Davenport

RELIGIOUS CONTROL IN TAWANTINSUYU

James A. Davenport ANTH532: Indigenous Peoples of South America May 8th, 2012

Davenport

In Andean South America, there is a long antiquity of state-level societies, dating as far back as the Preceramic period from 4900 BP to 3200 BP (Haas et al. 2005). Many states came and went, manifesting and expressing themselves in vastly different ways with a variety of artistic styles, cosmologies, and political structures over time. The collapse of Wari and Tiwanaku at the end of the Middle Horizon left the Andean world balkanized, with many small, competing polities that were culturally diverse existing in the power vacuum left by the absence of these states (Arkush and Stanish 2005). It was on this "fluctuating central Andean political landscape where populations of varying size created distinct ethnic identities, economic systems, and social structures" (Covey 2008:289), the Inka Empire emerged. The Inka Empire came to dominate the landscape during the Late Horizon (AD 1476 to AD 1534), incorporating over 12 million subjects and over eighty subject polities (D'Altroy and Bishop 1990). These polities varied greatly in terms of level of complexity, languages, ideologies, political systems, and geographic setting. As a result, to conquer and maintain control over their vast and diverse territory, the Inka adapted differing, flexible techniques for administration depending on "the complexities and capacities of indigenous societies, diversity in regional resources, and logistical and security considerations (D'Altroy and Bishop 1990:120). Some societies were easily brought into the Inka hegemony, while others with established elites, political hierarchies and belief systems were resistant to imperial control (Covey 2006). One particular strategy used by the Inka was ideological control. Ideological control is at the same time one of the most elusive and one of the most effective means in which an empire can control its subjects (Bauer and Stanish 2001). There is evidence that the Inka put a great deal

Davenport

of effort and resources into this control in an effort to pacify and govern the empire's subjects effectively.

RELIGION IN ARCHAEOLOGY

While ideology in its own nature is elusive, it is especially elusive to archaeologists, especially those that study societies that do not have developed writing systems. While physical remains of things like craft production and architecture are often readily available, the belief systems that peoples of the past held and lived by remain far more difficult to detect. Nonetheless, it can often be one of the most important facets of prehistoric societies, and in many cases can be the cause for why a ceramic is decorated in a certain manner, or why a structure is laid out the way it is. Even through today, ideology remains an important part of society as a "basis for intense solidarities, interwoven with, and often fundamental to, national and ethnic identities" (Edwards 2005:110). Despite this importance, there is a reluctance to address ritual and ideology in archaeological investigations. Many archaeologists treat ideology as "primarily intangible, elusive, and unknowable" (Howey and O'Shea 2006:261). Its transient and unverifiable nature make it hard to address within the realm of processual or scientific approaches. The theoretical framework of processual archaeology has been critiqued as adhering to an "extreme cultural materialism" (Spencer 1997:218) that ignores ideological factors as unimportant or epiphenomenal. Christopher Hawkes (1954) devised a four-tiered system of archaeological

Davenport

inference that was held in high regard in the field for a long time due to its logical nature, and came to be known as the "ladder of inference" (Robb 1988:330). Hawkes believes that archaeological phenomena can be ranked in order of easiest to infer to most obscure: 1) techniques for the production of archaeological phenomena; 2) the subsistence economics of human groups; 3) social and political institutions of groups; and 4) religious institutions and spiritual life of groups (Hawkes 1954:161-162). While Hawkes recognizes that religious institutions and spiritual life exist in the archaeological record, he deems the identification of these phenomena too difficult to be discussed with any certainty and should not be attempted (Hawkes 1954:162). Nonetheless, ideology remains both an important part of the lives of prehistoric peoples and a tangible part of the archaeological record, especially in the Andes. Jerry Moore (1996:122) writes:

"Based on the data from the ethnographic present and vast references to the ethnohistoric past, the central significance of Andean ritual is certain. Everything we know about the Andes points to the essential nature of rite, and the historical significance of Andean ritual is a simple fact whether or not archaeologists acknowledge it. Ritual is not insignificant, epiphenomenal, or unamenable to archaeological inquiry."

Though it is clear that ritual is important, there still is not consensus amongst archaeologists how it should be investigated. Several recent attempts at creating both a theoretical framework and approach in which to view ritual and ideology as well as a set of

Davenport

archaeological expectations for the manifestation of ritual in ideology in archaeology are discussed here. John Robb (1998) has more recently addressed Hawkess ladder of inference and the study of symbols in archaeology. He has criticized the reduction of signs or symbols as purely material and the forced dichotomy between a visible, tangible material world and invisible ideas and feelings, between hard scientific approaches and soft humanistic approaches, and between objective knowledge and subjective opinion (Robb 1998:330). He believes that there is a double standard present between symbolic and economic archaeologies. The division of archaeology into categories of material and symbolic is detrimental to the understanding of prehistoric society, and denies that economy can be fundamentally cultural, and that ideas are embodied in material practices (Robb 1998:331). Indeed, ideology can be seen as a central element of a cultural system and a source of social power (DeMarrais et. al. 1996:15). Robb further gives an example of this double standard to further illustrate his point:

If we understand how a prehistoric rock carving was made technologically without knowing why it was made culturally, the effort is considered a failure and symbolic archaeology is pronounced impossible. But if we understand how prehistoric people produced their food technologically without knowing the cultural reasons why they produced what and how much they did in the way they did, the effort is considered a successful demonstration of economic archaeology; never mind that we have reduced a complex, value-laden set of social relations to a simple faunal inference [Robb 1998:331].

Davenport

In this reevaluation of the role of symbols in archaeology, symbols become inseparable from economic and material use, and symbols should not be seen as irrational or ethereal but as rationalized and concrete (Robb 1998:331). It should be noted that Hawkes never intended his ladder of inference to be a blanket statement for all of archaeology. Rather, it was intended to apply only to contexts where there were no relevant historical or ethnohistorical sources (Fogelin 2008:129). In his defense of the necessity of symbolic archaeology, Robb outlines three main views for the consideration of symbols in archaeology: symbols as tokens, symbols as girders, and symbols as tesserae (Robb 1998:332). In the symbols as tokens, or information transmission view, the main purpose of symbols is to serve as instruments of communication. Binford (1962) argued that a symbol in material form may indicate predictable economies of representation. In this model, an exotic artifact can indicate long-distance exchange, a monumental structure can show the ability to command labor, different (and elaborate) clothing can indicate special societal status (Robb 1998:332). In a sense, all symbols are created with the purpose of conveying a message to those that look upon them. This model of symbols has proved useful in evaluating strategies of political leadership (DeMarrais et. al. 1996) and prestige goods exchange (Saitta 2000). In the symbols as girders, or the mental reality approach, is a structuralist approach into how symbols constituted and structured the mental and social world of ancient people (Robb 1998:334-335). This has sometimes been called cognitive archaeology, and focuses on symbols as mental structures for framing the cultural world and structuring thought process (Robb

Davenport

1998:335). The most important component of this model is that humans will think and act through learned, culturally specific structures that recur wherever they organize themselves and their material productions (Robb 1998:335). Thus, in this model, through symbols we can begin to understand the framework in which all decisions of a society are (consciously or subconsciously) made. Robbs final model for the archaeological interpretation of symbols, symbols as tesserae or the poststructuralist critique, rejects the notion in both approaches that symbols are imbued with meaning. Meaning resides neither in artifacts nor people, but rather it resides in the moment of interaction between both of them (Thomas 1996:97), and the meanings of symbols do not exist outside of this moment. This ethereal nature of the meaning of symbols means that there is a constant variation in the interpretation of important symbols through time. This view rejects structuralist interpretations of symbols as essentializing or totalizing (Robb 1998:338), and archaeologists are required to carry out close contextual analysis with regard to symbols, as their meanings can and do change. This discussion of symbols is important in the archaeological investigation of ideology. With the exception of societies with written records or societies that made contact with other literate people, symbols are one of the few avenues of evidence available for understanding ideology. Fogelin (2008:130, emphasis in original) argues that religions are systems of symbols and not unconstrained, free-floating units, an idea originally proposed by Geertz (1966). Geertz argues that this system of symbols acts to establish powerful, pervasive and long-lasting moods in motivations in men by formulating conceptions of a general order of existence, and clothing these conceptions with such an order of factuality that the moods and motivations seem uniquely

Davenport

realistic (Geertz 1966:4). Furthermore, even in those societies with written records, there remains the strong possibility for bias from the observer, especially in the case of those societies who were observed by Spanish missionaries, whose main objective was to convert the indigenous population to Christianity and regarded the extant faiths as paganism or idolatry (de Landa 1978 [1566]). In a separate analysis of Hawkes treatise, Fogelin (2008) argues that the archaeological study of religion is conceptually simple. Arguing that religions are systems of deliberate, connected symbols, he suggests that the study of ideology can begin with the aspects of a past religion that are the most obvious or manifested clearly materially, and the easiest to identify. From there, one can move onto the next easiest repeatedly. Though this systematic analysis, key symbols might be identified that can orient and constrain large portions of a religious system (Fogelin 2008:130-131). Ultimately, he concludes that the archaeology of religion is as easy or as difficult as any other branch of archaeological research and should proceed in pretty much the same way (Fogelin 2008:131). Critics of the archaeology of religion have focused on the aspects that are most unknowable, and as a result have applied unreasonable standards for its acceptance (Fogelin 2008:132). This focus on the abstract relates back to Robbs (1998) argument of a double standard present between symbolic and material archaeologies. While there are certainly aspects of religion that cannot be understood archaeology, the same is true about economies and other more common focuses for research. A recent study by Meghan Howey and John OShea (2006) has challenged commonly accepted strategies of reviewing religion and ideology in archaeology. An overwhelming majority of archaeological research dealing with religion draws from ethnology, ethnohistory,

Davenport

and oral traditions or forklore. Indeed, it is commonplace for archaeological material to be interpreted directly in terms of either ethnology, folklore, iconography, or astronomy (Brown 1997:470). Even Hawkes suggests this as a possible means of uncovering the obscure nature of ritual in the archaeological record (1954:162). Howey and OShea suggest that these sources are viewed as superior because they are derived from living people who can describe intangible beliefs and cosmologies (2006:261). This is viewed at times as essentialist, because it assumes that primitive, non-world religions and peoples are static and unchanging, stuck in time like Saids orientalism (Rowan 2011). In their analysis of the Missaukee earthworks in northern lower Michigan, Howey and OShea reject this dependence on ethnographic or ethnohistoric analogy in the study of ritual and religion in archaeology. Despite being able to see similarities in their archaeological site with ethnohistoric descriptions of ritual and connect it to its meaning, they maintain that the meaning itself is not important, and the purpose of the site could be discerned without this ethnographic analogy. They argue that

through the rigorous analysis of this kind of patterning, prehistoric archaeology has the potential to discover and understand ancient ritual. This is not the meaning of ritual, as we cannot know the name of the ritual, or what each of the features and activities specifically symbolized, or document the story that makes sense of the specific symbols. We can, however, build up a structural understanding of what was involved in the ritual activity, who and how many people attended, how often it occurred, during what season, from how far the

Davenport

10

participants traveled, and what kinds of social or integrative functions the ritual might have served (Howey and OShea 2009:195).

Joyce Marcus (2007) discusses in detail proposed archaeological constraints for identifying and studying ritual. Building off of work by Catherine Bell (1992, 1997), Marcus suggests that the following criteria be defined as components of ritual: 1) one or more performers; 2) an audience (humans, deities, ancestors); 3) a location (a temple, field, patio, stairway cave, top of an altar); 4) a purpose (to communicate with ancestors, sanctify a new temple); 5) meaning, subject matter, and content; 6) temporal span (hour, day, week); 7) actions (chanting, singing, playing music, dancing, wearing masks and costumes, burning incense, bloodletting, sacrificing humans or animals, smoking, making pilgrimages to caves or mountaintops); and 8) foods and paraphernalia used in the performance of rites (Marcus 2007:48). These criteria are intended to strictly define rituals, and as such are intentionally broad. Additionally, Marcus suggests that the components most likely to be recovered are locations and paraphernalia, as opposed to meanings, songs, dances, etc. (Marcus 2007:48). Marcus also suggests strategies of excavation and techniques that archaeologists can use to aide them in the identification of ritual. These include 1) collecting ritual data from more meaningful contexts; 2) documenting the diverse roles played by ritual; 3) explaining the fit (or lack thereof) between ethnohistoric and archaeological data on ritual; and 4) use residue analyses to determine the perishable contents of ritual vessels, caches, offering boxes, and tombs (Marcus 2007:43). Through the employment of these guiding principles, Marcus argues that

Davenport

11

archaeologists will be better equipped to identify ritual in the archaeological record and to study and discuss the purpose, nature, utility and function of ritual in prehistoric societies. A recent perspective presented by Mark Aldenderfer (2011) presents a pragmatic approach for the archaeology of religion. Aldenderfer suggests that archaeologists should be more interested in what religion does than what it is (2011:24). He proposes that archaeologists should attempt to view religion in the archaeological record as an enabler used by agents, and as transformative. In examining this, he proposes that archaeologists use a combination of techniques. The first of these techniques is philosophical pragmatism. Aldenderfer believes that no single theoretical perspective can nor should hope to capture what religion and its material representation mean, precisely because religion sits at the nexus of multiple social, cognitive, and behavioral domains (2011:25, italics in original). In addition to philosophical pragmatism, Aldenderfer argues that the use of any theory must take place within a context of evidential constraints and accepted bodies of independent data that can be used to test and examine the assumptions, linking arguments, and contents of these theories (2011:26). Framing these theoretical frameworks in context can inform the archaeologists of how to look for the multiple roles of religion in past societies and when the manipulation of religion might take on heightened significance (Aldenderfer 2011:28). Lastly, Aldenderfer argues for the use of contrasts as a way to examine how artifactual assemblages or archaeological evidence differs or changes and thus are significant in illuminating religion through material culture. Also relevant to this study, Jerry Moore (1996) and Alan Covey (2006) have defined several archaeological markers for imperial control. Among these markers are: 1) the emergence of a four-tier settlement hierarchy; 2) emergence of increasing centralization; 3) the construction

Davenport

12

of palace and estates for the ruler; 4) the development of standardized and specialized religious and administrative architecture; and 5) evidence of lasting territorial control. Specifically relating to the development of standardized and specialized religious and administrative architecture, Moore suggests that it exhibit permanence, centrality, ubiquity, scale, and visibility. All of these things would demarcate a structure as an important religious symbol, being permanent and unmoving, as well as large, centrally located, and visible on the landscape to serve as a constant reminder to all who see it. This is by no means an exhaustive review of theoretical literature about the presence of religion in the archaeological record, but it is meant to examine several frameworks under which ritual and ideology can be discussed, and provide a platform in moving forward to examining religion in the archaeological record of the Inka empire.

INKA EXPANSION

The Inka Empire experienced a meteoric expansion during its brief existence, encompassing a geographic region from Ecuador to northern Chile and northwestern Argentina. By all accounts, the Inka empire was one of a number of small, regionally important polity in the Cuzco basin during the Late Intermediate Period after Wari collapse. Chronicles refer to the earliest manifestations of the Inka polity as "controlling small territories, with little or no political control over neighboring groups" (Covey 2006:112). Indeed, the area around Cuzco "witnessed a proliferation of small polities, which established themselves in locations that

Davenport

13

provided defense, as well as access to a wide range of agropastoral resources" (Covey 2006:106). The defensive nature of settlements in these polities during this time period reflects a political balkanization that occurred, with many competing groups struggling to maintain control over adequate and sufficient resources. As population grew in the basin, increased economic pressures strained the Inka. Lack of sufficient food production and resources caused the Inka to begin militarily raiding their neighbors in the Cuzco basin. With the reign of the fourth Inka ruler, Mayta Capac, the Inkas began consolidating political control over the Cuzco basin, taking control of resources and lands of neighboring groups and turning them into subordinates with appointed Inka leaders, usually the ruler's sons (Covey 2006:112). This increased militarization and the fact that the Inka were now in control of populations that were not ethnically Inka needed to be justified. As a result, there were several changes in the ideology and religious power of the state. First, chronicles describe an increased importance placed on the ancestor cult. Additionally, there was the promotion of sun worship as the state religion (Covey 2006:118). With this promotion came the additional caveat that the Inka ruler was the descendant of the sun, and that any ruler who did not accept this divine lineage and nature of the Inka's power was insulting the sun itself. This provided a means by which the empire could both justify its control over subject populations that were not ethnically Inka as well as justify additional imperial expansion and conquest of other polities. The establishment of the Inka ruler as a descendant of the sun itself had important implications that lend themselves well to the establishment of ideologies useful in empire building. In an effort to create this lineage, many stories were created about early Inka rulers interacting directly with the sun, moon, and other deities. These stories created an artificial

Davenport

14

antiquity for the empire, such that the Spanish chroniclers and modern scholars speak of the earliest Inka rulers in uncertain terms. The Inka empire had a temporal span of only about a century, but the creation of these myths and legends and this antiquity gave it much more of a permanence. This artificial antiquity would have served to both justify and reinforce the Inka's position as superior and in control over other ethnic groups, as well as provide a useful propaganda tool amongst subjugated groups to exhibit proof of the inevitability of Inka imperial control. At this point, when the Inka empire adapt their ideology to justify its militaristic conquests, expansion was no longer done out of necessity for resources. New motivations drove expansion, including access to other resources not available in the Cuzco basin (such as coastal resources like shell, fish, and foods only capable of being grown in lowland coastal valleys) as well as a desire to generate an increased surplus and wealth. As the Inka expanded into different geographic regions, they encountered different polities, some of which adapted very easily to imperial hegemony. Others, however, were more resistant. In many cases, especially on the central coast of Peru, the Inka encountered small, state-level polities that were much more resistant than the stratified non-state-level societies of the central highlands. These small states were resistant to imperial control. As a result, the Inka would modify their ideological strategies to coexist beside extant local ones (Covey 2006), as opposed to forcing the imperial cult of sun worship onto these populations. Cobo (1990 [1653]) describes a practice of the Inka where, once a polity was conquered, the idols or most important idol of that region would be removed from its local context and taken to Cuzco. In the event that any person in that polity should transgress, whether it be against the

Davenport

15

deity or against the empire, he or she would have to come to Cuzco to ask forgiveness at the idol. This practice not only solidified Cuzco's position as the capital and center of power of the empire, but it signified the control that the Inka had over its subject polities. By capturing their religious figures, it demonstrated that these local beliefs were secondary to the state cult, and that the populations adhering to them were in turn subservient to those following the state cult. The veracity of this practice cannot be confirmed or disproven, but nonetheless it provides an example of the image of the Inka empire portrayed to the chroniclers, that they were masterful manipulators who managed to maintain control over their subjects through a number of different ways. It should be noted that Conrad and Demarest (1984) propose a somewhat different view for the motivations behind Inka imperial expansion. As opposed to resource pressure, they argue that expansion was fueled by the traditional institution of split inheritance. When a ruler died, his title would be transferred to his successor, but his wealth and material possessions were not. As a result, each new ruler "would find conquests desirable as means of accumulating his own wealth" (Conrad and Demarest 1984:94). This necessity to accumulate one's own wealth and greatness would have escalated exponentially to the point where the empire became as large as it was. This alternative view differs most importantly in that the rulers themselves are the ones being manipulated by ideological constraints. This is different from the previous scenario, in which they are the agents who are performing the manipulation and control of ideology over subjugated populations. In Conrad and Demarest's scenario, the rulers do not have to exclusively be constrained. They could very well have been both manipulated by these constraints as well as

Davenport

16

manipulating themselves in the control of other groups. There is also the possibility that they could have used the constraint of split inheritance as a justification of increased militaristic expansion of the empire as well. Regardless of the degree of application, ideological control appears to have been paramount to imperial strategies in subjugation of non-Inka polities and populations. It served an important role in both the justification of imperial expansions and subjugation of polities, and in the pacification and acceptance of the imperial hegemony amongst conquered and subjugated populations.

PACHACAMAC

One particularly interesting case study is the site of Pachacamac. Pachacamac was a ritual and pilgrimage center located on the central coast of Peru. It is noted as having panregional importance that extended as far back as the Early Intermediate Period (900 BC - AD 200) (Shimada 1991). While having a large residential component, it was also one of the most important pilgrimage sites in Andean South America, and was the location of one of the most consulted oracles. The site was highlighted by the prominent Temple of Pachacamac. In general, the Inka conquest of the coast was much different than that of the highlands. As the coast provided more resistance to the idea of imperial Inka conquest, for a long period of time there was only loose association between coastal polities and the Inka empire for mutually beneficial trade. Once the empire eventually expanded to include coastal polities, it adapted

Davenport

17

complementary political and ideological systems without providing much change to established local systems (Covey 2006, Marcone 2010, Stanish 2001). Pachacamac seems to be an exception to this rule, experiencing profound changes in the design of the site, including the construction of new buildings and the repurposing of others (Eeckhout 2004). The Inka occupation at the site is most dense between the Tauri Chumpi Palace and the Temple of the Sun, as they constructed a number of new structures and heavily modified old ones, including the Convent of the Mamacona, the Pilgrims' Plaza, the Tauri Chumpi Palace, and the Temple of the Sun itself (Shimada 1991). The Temple of the Sun was built adjacent to the pre-Inka Temple of Pachacamac. Cobo writes that the Temple of the Sun at Pachacamac was second only to the Sun Temple in Cuzco (1990 [1653]) He also notes that during Inka control at Pachacamac, the Temple of the Sun was the site of feasts and many sacrifices, as well as the home to a resident population of priests and attendants. The Inka decision to build the Temple of the Sun represents a deliberate, political demonstration of control over Pachacamac. Durkheim (1965 [1912]) postulates that cults and rites are integral to the establishment and maintenance of society and, therefore, to the legitimization of dominance and an established hierarchy. In Durkheim's model, religion is a hegemonic vehicle used to reinforce societal status and authority. With this in mind, Inka occupation of an important ritual site like Pachacamac and the construction of new Inka facilities in the presence of existing ritual structures sent a powerful message of cultural dominance or legitimate succession (Bauer and Stanish 2001).

Davenport

18

Inka imperial strategies are also expressed in material culture, and architecture and artifacts following the styles of Cuzco can be seen in many subjugated areas. Cuzco styles are both distinctive and standardized, and many of these objects (including fine clothing and serving vessels used at state-sponsored feasts) would have been highly visible. By providing these objects in imperial styles, the Inka conveyed a clear, repeated message that imperial rulers were the providers of food, drink, and hospitality (Morris 1991). Inka style objects were manufactured in state workshops and production enclaves located at or near provincial centers (like Pachacamac) where local or hybrid style objects may have been made as well (Hayashida 1998, D'Altroy and Bishop 1990). In addition to the local reproduction of imperial styles, imperial pottery may have been imported from Cuzco. Recent research on materials excavated at the Temple of the Sun has provided grounds for this possibility (Davenport 2012). A number of stylistically Inka ceramics found at a midden from the Temple of the Sun were compositionally different from other stylistically pre-Inka ceramics found in the same contexts. A majority of these different Inka ceramics were finely decorated serving vessels such as plates and karos. This suggests that the Inka could have been transporting these vessels long distances, possibly from Cuzco, in an effort to produce highly visible symbols of Inka imperial authority. The presence of imperial pottery from the capital itself would reinforce the idea that the Inka intended to provide the image of themselves as the literal provider of food and drink for state-sponsored ceremonies.

CONCLUSION

Davenport

19

Religion appears to have played a very important role in the lives of prehistoric Andean peoples. It is precisely this importance that allowed it to be of such utility to the Inka. There are several clear markers, both archaeologically and in the ethnohistoric literature that point to the manipulation of ideology, ritual, and religion by the Inka. It appears that religious control was among the most important strategies used by the Inka in their pacification, subjugation, and control of subject polities and populations. This control was manifested in different ways depending on the nature of the subject population's structure and pre-existing beliefs, but was always adapted to be most effective in its application.

Davenport

20

WORKS CITED Aldenderfer, Mark 2011 Envisioning a Pragmatic Approach to the Archaeology of Religion. Archaeological Papers of the American Anthropological Association 21(1):23-36. Arkush, Elizabeth and Charles Stanish 2005 Interpreting Conflict in the Ancient Andes. Current Anthropology 46(1):3-28. Bauer, Brian S. and Charles Stanish 2001 Ritual and Pilgrimage in the Ancient Andes: the Islands of the Sun and the Moon. University of Texas Press, Austin. Bell, Catherine 1992 Ritual Theory, Ritual Practice. Oxford University Press, Oxford. 1997 Ritual: Perspectives and Dimensions. Oxford University Press, Oxford. Binford, Louis 1962 Archaeology as Anthropology. American Antiquity 28:217-225. Cobo, Bernabe 1990 [1653] Inca Religion and Customs. Translated by Roland Hamilton. University of Texas Press, Austin. Conrad, Geoffrey W. and Arthur A. Demarest 1984 Religion and Empire: The Dynamics of Aztec and Inca Expansionism. Cambridge University Press, Cambridge. Covey, R. Alan 2006 How the Incas Built their Heartland. University of Michigan Press, Ann Arbor. 2008 Multiregional Perspectives on the Archaeology of the Andes During the Late Intermediate Period (c. A.D. 1000-1400). Journal of Archaeological Research 16: 287-338. D'Altroy, Terence N. and Ronald L. Bishop 1990 The Provincial Organization of Inka Ceramic Production. American Antiquity 55 (1):120-138. Davenport, James A. 2012 Inka Ceramics at Pachacamac: Neutron Activation Analysis of the 1941-1942 Strong Collection at the American Museum of Natural History. Paper presented at the 77th Annual Meeting of the Society for American Archaeology, Memphis.

Davenport

21

de Landa, Diego 1978 [1566] Yucatan: Before and After the Conquest. Translated by William Gates. Dover Publications, New York. DeMarrais, Elizabeth, Luis Jaime Castillo and Timothy Earle 1996 Ideology, Materialization, and Power Strategies. Current Anthropology 37(1):15-31. Durkheim, Emile 1965 [1912] The Elementary Forms of Religious Life. Translated by Joseph Ward Swain. The Free Press, New York. Edwards, David N. 2005 The Archaeology of Religion. In The Archaeology of Identity: Approaches to Gender, Age, Status, Ethnicity and Religion, edited by Margarita Daz-Andreu, Sam Lucy, Sta!a Babi" and David N. Edwards, pp. 110-128. Routledge, New York. Eeckhout, Peter 2004 Reyes del Sol y Seores de la Luna. Inkas e Ychmas en Pachacmac. Chungara 36(2): 495-503. Fogelin, Lars 2008 Delegitimizing Religion: the Archaeology of Religion as ... Archaeology. In Belief in the Past: Theoretical Approaches to the Archaeology of Religion, edited by Kelley Hays-Gilpin and David S. Whitley, pp. 129-165. Left Coast Press, Walnut Creek. Geertz, Clifford 1966 Religion as a cultural system. In Anthropological Approaches to the Study of Religion, edited by Michael Banton, pp. 1-46. A.S.A. Monographs 3. Tavistock Press, London. Haas, Jonathan, Winifred Creamer, and Alvaro Ruiz 2004 Power and the Emergence of Complex Polities in the Peruvian Preceramic. Archaeological Papers of the American Anthropological Association 14:37-52. Hawkes, Christopher 1954 Archaeological Theory and Method: Some Suggestions from the Old World. American Anthropologist 56(2):155-168. Hayashida, Frances 1998 New Insights into Inka Pottery Production. In Andean Ceramics: Technology, Organization, and Approaches, edited by Izumi Shimada, MASCA Research Papers, pp. 313-335, Volume 15 supplement, University Museum Press, Philadelphia. Howey, Meghan C. L. and John M. O'Shea

Davenport

22

2006 2009

Bear's Journey and the Study of Ritual in Archaeology. American Antiquity 74(1): 193-201. On Archaeology and the Study of Ritual: Considering Inadequacies in the CultureHistory Approach and Quests for Internal Meaning. American Antiquity 74(1):193-201.

Marcone, Giancarlo 2010 Highland Empires, Lowland Politics: The Central Peruvian Coast and its Relation to PanAndean Empires. In Comparative Perspectives on the Archaeology of Coastal South America, edited by Robyn E. Cutright, Enrique Lpez Hurtado and Alexander J. Martin, pp. 127-146. Center for Comparative Archaeology, Pittsburgh. Marcus, Joyce 2007 Rethinking Ritual. In The Archaeology of Ritual, edited by Evangelos Kyriakidis, pp. 43-76. Cotsen Advanced Seminars 3. Cotsen Institute of Archaeology, Los Angeles. Moore, Jerry 1996 Architecture and Power in the Ancient Andes. Cambridge University Press, Cambridge. Morris, Craig 1991 Signs of Division, Symbols of unity: Art in the Inka Empire. In Circa 1492: Art in the Age of Exploration, edited by J. A. Levenson, pp. 521-528. National Gallery of Art, Washington, D.C. Robb, John E. 1998 The Archaeology of Symbols. Annual Review of Anthropology 27:329-346. Rowan, Yorke M. 2011 Beyond Belief: The Archaeology of Religion and Ritual. Archaeological Papers of the American Anthropological Association 21(1):1-10. Saitta, Dean J. 2000 Theorizing the Political Economy of Southwestern Exchange. In Archaeology of Regional Interaction, edited by Michelle Hegmon, pp. 151-166. University Press of Colorado, Boulder. Spencer, Charles S. 1997 Evolutionary Approaches in Archaeology. Journal of Archaeological Research 5(3): 209-264. Shimada, Izumi 1991 Pachacamac Archaeology: Retrospect and Prospect. University Museum Press, Philadelphia.

Davenport

23

Spencer, Charles S. 1997 Evolutionary Approaches in Archaeology. Journal of Archaeological Research 5(3): 209-264. Stanish, Charles 2001 Regional Research on the Inca. Journal of Archaeological Research 9(3):213-241. Thomas, Julian 1996 Time, Culture and Identity: an Interpretive Archaeology. Routledge, New York.