15
Corporate Power Strategies, Collective Action, and Control of Principals
A Cross-Cultural Perspective
Lane F. Fargher
In two pathbreaking publications, Blanton and his colleagues (Blanton 1998a; Blanton et al. 1996) introduced the concept of corporate power strategies as an additional pathway to complexity. In the original Current Anthropology article, they somewhat vaguely defined corporate power strategies as the sharing of power “across different groups and sectors of society in such a way as to inhibit exclusionary strategies” (Blanton et al. 1996:2). The definition and identification of corporate power strategies in complex societies had to be vague to some degree precisely because research and theory building in neoevolutionism and much postmodern theory focused nearly exclusively on elites and their despotic strategies (Flannery 1972; Fried 1967; Gilman 1991; Kristiansen 1991; Patterson 1991; Shanks and Tilley 1982; Sanders et al. 1976; Service 1975). In his 1998 book chapter, Blanton set out to some degree to remedy this theoretical deficiency. He defined five characteristics of corporate power (assembly government, corporate regulation of sources of power, “reflexive communication,” ritual sanctification of corporate cognitive code, and “semiautonomy” of lower-order subsystems). Building on this work, we (Blanton and Fargher 2008) evaluated the utility of collective action theory for explaining variation in premodern states using a worldwide cross-cultural sample of 30 states. The theory used in this study was largely taken from economics and political science (Levi 1988; Lichbach 1995, 1996; Olson 1965). While Blanton’s work on corporate political strategies informed the development of our coding scheme, we did not explicitly code for or consider the role of corporate political strategies in collective action. Consequently, we lack a clear understanding of the role of corporate power strategies in the construction of collective polities. For example, does corporate power correlate with collectivity or do they vary independently? Can collectivity arise in the absence of power-sharing?
As such, in this chapter, I set out to better define the relationship between corporate political strategies and collective action. First, I review the philosophical roots of power-sharing in both Europe and China. I selected these two cases because they are the two most important politico-philosophical traditions in human history, as well as being highly sophisticated and antithetical, according to European thinkers. Accordingly, they offer an excellent basis for examining the different ways that state builders confront problems associated with power-sharing. I then use this information to build on and modify Blanton’s (1998a) classification of corporate strategies to develop a concise measure of corporate power. Next, I consider the relationship between corporate strategies and collective action using our worldwide sample of premodern states (Blanton and Fargher 2008). Finally, I test my conclusions regarding corporate strategies using two diachronic cases: the rise and decline of the Sui-Tang dynasty and Terminal Formative/Early Classic Valley of Oaxaca. I selected these two empirical cases because they offer a historical and an archaeological perspective on a similar problem faced by state builders (i.e., control of regional or local elites). The results of this study indicate that power-sharing can take various forms (assembly government or bureaucratization) and that it is an effective strategy for control over regional elites.
Power-Sharing in Two Civilizational Traditions
Europe
With the transition from feudalism to the “modern” nation-state, European (and Euro-American) scholars devoted much energy to reworking ideological and political theory to allow for wider participation by citizens in government, to curb the power of the aristocracy and monarchs, and to develop workable models for power-sharing in functioning governments. Assemblies, suffrage, and social contracts were at the center of much of this theorizing (e.g., Hobbes 1651; Jefferson 1999; Locke 2003; Rousseau 1764). The general premise shared by these Enlightenment thinkers emphasized the existence of inherent rights among men (and women, as recognized in modern thinking) living in a state of nature. Thus, the civil state forms when a community of free men gives up certain rights to the body politic in exchange for the protection of other inherent rights. Because all men in the body politic are equal in terms of rights, the limits and powers of the civil state must be set by the members of the body politic through “majority will” (democracy) and cannot be dictated by a monarch or privileged aristocracy. According to Jefferson (1999) and Rousseau (1764), educated men with access to information are able to govern rationally, and it is through reason that they are able to establish order and protect the rights of the members of the body politic. In practice, this theory was translated into men voting on policy and selecting representatives for legislative assemblies.
What emerges from these works is an ideological focus on the equality of men and the importance of merit in the selection of governing officials, especially principals. Thus, these thinkers believed that education, enlightenment, and reason were the capacities that individuals had to acquire in order to govern properly. Moreover, they concluded that legitimate government or the civil state emerges because rational men govern together (shared power) as members of the body politic. Thus, their theory emphasized voice and participatory government as a remedy for monarchy and other forms of totalitarian government that did not respect the inherent rights of free men.
China
Classical Confucian political philosophy shares a number of fundamental concepts regarding power-sharing with its European counterpart. Confucius and Mencius maintained that all men (and women, as recognized in modern thinking) are born with an inherent capacity to do good regardless of social status, but this capacity has to be cultivated to reach maturity (summarized in Chan 2002:3). Through education in ethics, compassion, ritual, social etiquette, and history, a man could become virtuous and live rightly or righteously (rationally) (Rainey 2010:31, 34, 42–43, 45). Thus, Confucius transformed the concept of “gentlemen,” which had been applied exclusively to the nobility, to mean a man who lived virtuously (Rainey 2010:42). Those who lived virtuously regardless of social origin could be considered “noble,” whereas, those who did not could be considered low (Ivanhoe 2009:21–22, 33, 62, 74–75; Rainey 2010:42).
Mencius went on to espouse the view that, in order to be considered true kings, rulers had to be virtuous and take virtuous men into their service (Ivanhoe 2009:passim; see also Rainey 2010:49). Rulers who did not live virtuously were just lowborn individuals occupying the throne and, thus, could legitimately be overthrown by the people (Ivanhoe 2009:22). Virtuous men, on the other hand, should serve the king and advise him in policy formation. According to Confucius, a good minister constantly admonishes the ruler and points out his errors (Chan 2002:4; Rainey 2010:49). Conversely, the king should work with his ministers, consider their advice, and act wisely upon it. Thus, a respectful relationship arises between the king and his ministers and good government results from virtuous conduct (Ivanhoe 2009:34; Rainey 2010:52).
Moreover, the concept of a social contract is well developed in this tradition. Confucius and Mencius argued that the role of the government was to protect the people and respect their rights (Ivanhoe 2009:3–7, 51–56; Rainey 2010:48, 54). A good king should not interfere with the farmer, the craftsmen, or the merchant. He should create an environment where everyone can flourish, both biologically and socially. Just as the farmer trades grains with the craftsmen for goods, farmers and craftsmen provide their goods as taxes to the king and his ministers in exchange for the service of good government. Yet, as gentlemen, kings and ministers are admonished to collect in tax only what they need to pay the costs of governing and to justly compensate themselves for their services.
The Philosophical Roots of Power-Sharing
From an ideological perspective, the philosophical roots of power-sharing in Europe and China are highly analogous. Both traditions emphasized that an inherent equality existed among all men regardless of social status (Chan 2002:3; Hobbes 1651). For European thinkers, that quality was based in “natural law,” whereas Confucius and Mencius identified that quality as the capacity to do good or live virtuously. Both traditions emphasized the idea that education made men eligible to govern (Chan 2002:3; Ivanhoe 2009; Jefferson 1999; Rainey 2010:31). Thus, both traditions emphasized merit over adscription in the selection of governors. Finally, both traditions emphasized that educated men should govern together (share power). For Jefferson (1999) and Rousseau (1764), ruling together took the form of assembly government, whereas the Chinese tradition emphasized a reciprocal relationship between scholar-officials (literati) and a virtuous king (Rainey 2010:42, 49). Thus, both traditions rejected hereditary rule by oppressive and selfish individuals and called for the overthrow of such regimes.
Corporate Power Strategies, Collective Action, and Control of Principals
Bureaucratization is consistent with these philosophies (e.g., Levy 2009; Weber 1947:329–334, 392, 404–406; 1978:948), and to some degree both Europeans and the Chinese used it to materialize power-sharing. Bureaucratization serves to fragment power between many individuals (agents and/or principals), limiting the degree that any one individual can monopolize it. Fragmentation is achieved through hierarchization and specialization of duties/responsibilities (e.g., division of powers), the rationalization of bureaucratic routines, and the open and competitive selection of officials based upon merit (Weber 1947:329–341).
Combing the insights from the European and Chinese traditions with Blanton’s (1998a) discernments, I propose that corporate power is a complex construct consisting of three variables: (1) the number (or proportion relative to a polity’s population) of agents sharing powering within a single administrative territory or division; (2) bureaucratization in the selection and monitoring of agents; and (3) corporate cognitive code development (cf. Blanton 1998a:147). Each variable (which I discuss below) can be conceptualized as ranging from low to high, and, thus, corporate power can be characterized as a continuum. Thus, I propose that states high in corporate power will have large numbers of agents sharing power within single administrative divisions, a high degree of bureaucratization, and well-developed corporate cognitive codes. Conversely, low levels of corporate power can co-occur with network strategies, but higher levels are expected in collective states or where state builders seek to control the agency of principals.
Number (or Proportion) of Individuals Sharing Power
Power-sharing can be achieved by dividing administrative tasks/policy making horizontally (e.g., dividing policing, tax collecting, judicial, and public goods administration into separate hierarchies) (cf. Weber’s rational legal authority [1947:328–341]), so that any single administrative or governing agent has limited powers that apply only within a specified political field. Further subdivision of powers along a vertical axis can be implemented to develop clear structural hierarchies that facilitate the capacity of the state to respond to petitions, appeals, and complaints from citizens or officials (cf. Blanton and Fargher 2008:167; Weber 1947:331; 1978:957). Weber referred to such vertical structures as “precise appeal hierarchies” (Weber 1978:957). Another strategy available to state builders is to assign administrative tasks/policy-making to committees or councils to achieve power-sharing (cf. Weber’s [1947:392–404] collegiality and Blanton’s [1998a:154–155] Assembly or Commonwealth Government). Finally, these strategies, or combinations thereof, can be applied at any hierarchical level from local administrations to principals. The degree to which these strategies are implemented across all hierarchical levels of the state will result in more power-sharing agents and higher degrees of corporate power.
Ideally, this variable should be calculated based on a raw count of the number of officials occupying public offices or administrative positions. However, such information is rarely available for premodern and ancient states. Furthermore, the raw count should be standardized based on the size of a polity’s population to facilitate comparison. Ultimately, highly accurate population estimates necessary for such calculations are difficult to ascertain or obtain. Thus, alternatively, coding, as in this case, can be based on qualitative descriptions and the construction of an ordinal variable (see below).
Bureaucratization
Previously, we (Blanton and Fargher 2008:166) developed a specific scale variable to measure bureaucratization “to assess the degree to which an administrative apparatus is consistent with the predicted requirements of collective action.” Here, I take a narrower view of bureaucratization (cf. Blanton and Fargher 2008:table 8-1). Thus, bureaucratization in this context is defined as the measure to which recruitment is open and competitive, the degree to which the actions of officials are monitored and evaluated/punished, and the degree to which officials are salaried (cf. Blanton 1998a:159–163; Blanton and Fargher 2008:168–169; Lichbach 1996:167; Weber 1947:312, 335–336; 1978:948, 963–964).
Political agents selected from diverse geographic, ethnic, and socioeconomic backgrounds are expected to be less likely to favor narrow sectorial, class, or family interests (Lichbach 1996:167; Weber 1947:333, 335). Once incorporated into the administrative hierarchy, they are monitored to ensure that they do not use their positions for personal gain or overstep the limits of their posts (e.g., corruption, malfeasance) (Weber 1947:334). Finally, the degree to which officials are paid a salary as opposed to owning or controlling their incomes (e.g., prebends or benefices) provides the state with more flexibility to control and, if necessary, dismiss corrupt officials (Weber 1947:333–336). Again, bureaucratization can be applied at any level in the administrative hierarchy from local officials to principals.
Corporate Cognitive Codes
Here, I define corporate cognitive codes as legal or moral codes that detail behaviors, actions, and ideologies consistent with corporate power strategies (cf. Blanton 1998a:159–163). Although, corporate cognitive codes may take a variety of forms, I identify three as the most important.
1. Ideological constructs that emphasize egalitarianism in the capacity to govern effectively regardless of geographic or socioeconomic origin. Such cognitive codes justify the open and competitive selection of political agents based on merit and serve to reduce the dominance of hereditary nobility (Weber 1947:331, 335).
2. Ideologies that emphasize a shared corporate identity that cross-cuts geographic, tribal, or ethnic divisions. Such ideologies serve to create inclusive identities (e.g., a corporate body politic) that reduce the potential for factions, ethnic divisions, and class distinctions to be used in the development of networks of power.
3. Codes that emphasize proper conduct on the part of governing officials and the equality of citizens in judicial and administrative proceedings (cf. “rationalization of bureaucratic routines” [Weber 1947:328–332, 340, 392]). Built around the previously described ideologies, these codes serve to ensure that political agents comply with power-sharing goals and limit the degree to which certain individuals or sectors of society receive preferential treatment by the state. Where egalitarian legal and administrative codes have been implemented to rationalize bureaucratic functioning, principals cannot act despotically when dealing with citizens because they are enmeshed in structures that require officials to follow codified procedures (Weber 1947:333; cf. Mann 1986:185). Thus, well-developed corporate structures divide and fragment power, making them antithetical to despotism.
A Test of the Corporate Construct
Using the data amassed by the collective action project (Blanton and Fargher 2008), I assembled the quantitative data for my corporate power variable by summing the scores for four of the variables previously developed for bureaucratization (feasibility of commoner appeals and complaints, detection and punishment of malfeasance, officeholder recruitment, and degree of salaried officials) (see Blanton and Fargher 2008:table 8-2; cf. Blanton 1998a:147) and a new variable (degree of horizontal power-sharing) (table 15.1).
Table 15.1. Corporate power variables
Variable | Coding Construct | Code in Blanton and Fargher (2008) |
---|---|---|
Number of Individuals Sharing Power | Precise Appeal Hierarchy | Feasibility of Commoner appeals and complaints |
Number of Individuals Sharing Power | Degree of Horizontal Power-Sharing | |
Bureaucratization | Office Holder Recruitment | Office Holder Recruitment |
Bureaucratization | Monitoring of Officials | Detection and Punishment of Malfeasance |
Bureaucratization | Degree of Salaried Officials | Degree of Salaried Officials |
Data were insufficient to code for corporate cognitive code development. The simple variables in my construct for corporate strategies have strong internal correlation (Cronbach’s α = .904) and thus my construct is empirically valid.
The “degree of horizontal power-sharing” variable was developed from the cultural summaries for each case in the collective action data set. Specifically, I coded the degree to which state builders divided powers among functionally distinct departments or placed power in the hands of supervisory boards or assembles consisting of multiple individuals (table 15.2). I assigned a low score in cases where there was no functional division of powers and individual agents were the exclusive decision-makers in their administrative territories or divisions; an intermediate score when functional specialization or collegiality was present in part of the administrative hierarchy but not across the entire structure; and a high score when functional specialization or collegiality was present throughout the administrative hierarchy.
I then evaluated the relationship among the corporate power construct and the public goods, resource emphasis, and modes of control of principals constructs (the reader is referred to Blanton and Fargher 2008:tables 6–3, 7–2, 9–2 for descriptions because space limitations do not allow for their detailed reproduction in this context). Corporate power strategies correlate strongly with public goods (rs = .707, p < .001, n = 30) and modes of control of principals (rs = .754, p < .001, n = 30), as well as to a lesser degree with resource emphasis (rs = .573, p < .001, n = 30) (figure 15.1). Alternatively, treating resource emphasis as a dichotomous variable (external vs. mixed) verifies the strength of the last correlation. States with an external revenue emphasis score significantly lower on average in corporate power (mean = 7.79, SD = 2.43) as compared with states with an internal or mixed revenue emphasis (mean = 11.1, SD = 2.38) (Kruskal–Wallis Test s = 143, z = –3.07, p < .01; Kolmogorov–Smirnov Asymptotic Test KS = .258, KSa = 1.42, p < .05).
Table 15.2. Degree of horizontal power-sharing codes
Case | Degree of Horizontal Power Sharing Code | Sources |
---|---|---|
Tio | 1 | Vansina 1973 |
Bali | 1 | Geertz 1980; Schulte Nordholt 1991 |
Aceh | 1 | Hurgronje 1906; Reid 1975 |
Perak | 1 | Gullick 1958 |
Bakitara | 1 | Beattie 1971; Roscoe 1923 |
Pudukkottai | 1 | Dirks 1987 |
Nupe | 1 | Nadel 1942 |
Japan | 2 | Bolitho 1991; Hall 1991; Perez 2002; Tatsuya 1991 |
England | 1.5 | Cam 1950; Haven Putnam 1950; Holmes 1962; Morris 1940; Morris and Strayer 1947; Waugh 1991; Wilkinson 1940 |
Bagirmi | 1.5 | Reyna 1990 |
Tibet | 2 | Carrasco Pizana 1959 |
Thailand | 2.5 | Rabibhadana 1969 |
Yoruba | 1.5 | Law 1977; Lloyd 1971 |
Vijayanagara | 2 | Saletore 1934 |
Inca | 2 | D’Altroy 2002; Julien 1982; Malpass 1996; Murra 1980 |
Kuba | 2 | Vansina 1978a, b |
Buganda | 1.5 | Roscoe 1965; Southwold 1961; Wrigley 1996 |
Java | 2 | Moertono 1981 |
Egypt | 2.5 | Brier and Hobbs 1999; David 1998; James 1984; Kemp 1989; Kitchen 1982; Montet 1964, 1981; Murnane 1998 |
Asante | 2.5 | McCaskie 1995; Rattray 1929; Wilks 1975 |
Lozi | 2 | Gluckman 1941, 1943, 1961 |
Swahili Lamu | 2 | Horton and Middleton 2000; Prins 1971; Ylvisaker 1979 |
Ottoman | 3 | Inalcik 1994; Lybyer 1966 |
Aztec | 3 | Davies 1987; van Zantwijk 1985 |
Burma | 3 | Koenig 1990 |
Mughal | 3 | Habib 1963; Hasan 1936; Sarkar 1963 |
Rome | 3 | Birley 2000; Burton 1996; Eck 2000a, b, c; Galsterer 2000; Griffin 2000; Hopkins 1980; Levick 1996 |
Venice | 3 | Lane 1973; Norwich 1982 |
Ming China | 3 | Huang 1998; Hucker 1998 |
Athens | 3 | Gulick 1973; Hansen 1999 |
Discussion
State builders interested in achieving collective action (e.g., the delivery of public goods in response to taxpayer compliance with internal revenue demands) or limiting the power of principals to act arbitrarily can implement corporate power strategies. In his classic study, van Zantwijk (1985) argued that the altepetl (native state of the Basin of Mexico) divided responsibilities for various functions among constituent calpolli (neighborhood-scale political subdivisions of the state) in such a way that the various calpolli had to work together in order for the altepetl to function. As such, no single calpolli could dominate the altepetl and make the remaining calpolli subservient.
I think van Zantwijk’s insightful description of the altepetl provides a useful analogy for understanding corporate power strategies. They divide power in such a way that political agents are forced to work together, in a reciprocal fashion, in order for the state to function (cf. Weber 1947:393). Thus, state builders employing a corporate strategy create an institutional structure that distributes power among numerous individuals and makes it impossible for any individual political agent, despite his or her position in the hierarchy, to effectively monopolize power because any and all actions must abide by the functional rules of the structure. Consequently, the most powerful agents in the structure (principals) have command over (or direct) the infrastructural power of the state (e.g., Mann 1986), but relinquish personal power in the process.
Conversely, principals wishing to maintain individual power must develop personal relationships with their agents, which can only be achieved by breaking down corporate strategies or operating outside the official structure (Blanton et al. 1996). Principals who operate outside the official structure usurp and undermine corporate political agents and can cause collapse if these activities are sufficiently persistent. For example in dynastic China, a persistent problem for corporate state builders (literati) was the use of eunuchs as personal retainers by the emperor to bypass the official bureaucratic structure (e.g., Twitchett 1979:16). Thus, the personal ambitions of powerful individuals create a constant tension between corporate power strategies and interpersonal power strategies (e.g., network strategies).
Figure 15.1. Correlation plots for corporate power with (top) public goods and (bottom) control of principals.
Corporate Power Strategies in Two Diachronic Cases
The cross-cultural patterns in corporate power strategies indicate two pathways for sharing power: (1) horizontal functional specialization and the development of precise-appeal hierarchies, and (2) collegiality. Each pathway is coupled with the development of corporate cognitive codes and bureaucratization in the selection of political agents. In this section, I propose that, in some cases, state builders implement corporate strategies to reduce the personal power of elites (e.g., aristocrats) and exclusionary strategies as pathways to power. In the following discussion, I examine this hypothesis with two diachronic cases, Sui-Tang China and the Valley of Oaxaca. Like Feinman and Nicholas (chapter 13, this volume) and Earle (chapter 14, this volume), my case selection focuses on strategies and financing and does not seek to make typological distinctions between pristine and secondary states. States are constantly reconstructed, reorganized, and reformed as principals confront ever-changing problems associated with setting revenue policies, responding to voice, controlling agency, and achieving political goals. Thus, at the very moment a state is funded it is essentially “secondary,” and comparisons between any “types” of states in terms of political strategies and financing provides insights into human agency, cooperation, and political relationships.
Sui-Tang Dynasty
Following the disintegration of the Later Han (AD 220–581), political power fragmented among numerous petty kingdoms dispersed across the length and breadth of China. In the north, “powerful local magnates with personal control over extensive lands and numerous clients, families of cultivators and military retainers,” dominated local politics (Twitchett 1979:2–3). Kings cobbled together decentralized states by linking these magnates into loose networks. In Southern China, a similar pattern emerged where aristocratic lineages and their generals dominated the courts of petty states (Twitchett 1979:5). Rule during this period was highly unstable and coup after coup placed one lineage after another on the many thrones of China (Twitchett 1979:5, 9).
After AD 581, the Sui dynasty began to consolidate political power through military conquest (Twitchett 1979). However, early on the Tang lineage took control of this process through a coup and completed the unification and centralization of power. In order to bring about integration and political stability, the Tang sought to reduce the power of other aristocratic linages and elite clans (Twitchett 1979:9–12). They did this by implementing a political structure consistent with Confucian political philosophy (Wechsler 1979a:190–191). Central government was divided into three departments (Chancellery, Secretariat, and State Affairs), which in turn were subdivided into numerous bureaus and boards (Twitchett 1979). Provincial and local governments were brought into this administrative structure, creating a “precise appeal hierarchy” (Twitchett 1979:13). An examination system, modeled on that of the Han, was instituted along with state schools and a national university to prepare Confucian scholars for political service (Twitchett 1979:15; Wechsler 1979b:179). This system began to supply Confucian scholar officials by the middle of the second Tang emperor’s reign (Twitchett 1979:9, 14–15). These officials were initially placed in prefecture and local government positions, displacing local magnates, and later came to dominate high offices.
All officials, in both the central and local administrations, were subject to monitoring by an independent department, the Censorate (Hwa 2008:9). The second Tang emperor, Tiazong (626–649), also reorganized provincial government, reducing the power of governor-generals by placing much of their supervisory and monitoring responsibilities in “circuits” (Wechsler 1979a:188, 205). Thus, central officials were regularly dispatched from the capital to directly monitor prefectures grouped into circuits. Finally, the emperor personally appointed and reviewed all prefects (Wechsler 1979a:205–206).
Initially, Tiazong worked closely with his ministers to develop and evaluate political policy. A relatively large number of high-level ministers participated in daily council meetings (Twitchett 1979:12–13). Officials were encouraged to submit policies, participate in the debate over them, and to criticize (remonstrate) the emperor (Hwa 2008). The emperor also expected his ministers to accept criticism in turn (Hwa 2008:13). He rewarded officials who remonstrated for the benefit of the state and the people, but severely punished those who agreed with the emperor solely to curry favor or used their positions to enrich/empower themselves. This system of power-sharing was no mere show to legitimate the emperor’s rule. All edicts had to be cosigned by both a high minister and the emperor before they could be published (Hwa 2008:10).
Tiazong and his ministers worked to create just and equal legal and administrative procedures. They reformed and rationalized criminal codes, removing harsh punishments (execution or amputation) for many lesser crimes (Twitchett 1979:18; Wechsler 1979b:178). They developed and implemented administrative codes (statues, regulations, and ordinances) to govern the conduct and activities of officials. Both the criminal and administrative codes were regularly updated about every 15 years (Twitchett 1979:18). These reforms created an ideology of equality within Chinese society. For example, landowners and renters entered into contracts on equal terms and responsibilities were limited to the economic sphere, as in rental contracts today in the United States (Twitchett 1979:26).
The system they developed at the beginning of the dynasty persisted with little change until about AD 755. During the reign of Hsuan-tzung (713–755), the central government was modified and the Chancellery and Secretariat were merged into a single department (Twitchett 1979:15). Hsuan-tzung reduced the number of chief ministers and increased their administrative powers, but he excluded them from policy formation. The emperor began using eunuchs and special commissions to bypass the regular bureaucracy, thereby increasing his personal power (Twitchett 1979:15). Finally, after a prolonged rebellion that ended in AD 763, military and financial power were transferred to the governor-generals, who by the end of the eighth century became largely autonomous (Twitchett 1979:17–21). They controlled revenue collection, appointed officials based on personal connections, and directly oversaw military personal. At the local and prefect levels, powerful landlords began to replace Confucian scholar-officials.
Valley of Oaxaca
As described in Joyce and Barber’s chapter (chapter 2, this volume), Monte Albán experienced a shift from a corporate political economy in the Middle–Late Formative (500–150 BC) to an exclusionary network-based political economy in the Terminal Formative (150 BC–AD 250) (see also Joyce 2010:ch.5; Winter 1984). At the height of the Terminal Formative, principals at Monte Albán were probably receiving imperial revenues from conquered regions outside the Valley of Oaxaca and funneling them into a prestige economy centered on the hilltop capital (Blanton et al. 1996; Redmond 1981; Spencer 1982). Perhaps one of the most visible material correlates of this pattern are elaborate cream wares decorated with elite iconography, such as step frets, which were produced in and around the North Platform and distributed to powerful provincial elites, probably during elaborate feasts that linked these elites with Monte Albán (Elson 2007:61–66; Elson and Sherman 2007; Joyce 2010:144, 157; Kowalewski et al. 1989:180, 181–182).
However, at the outset of the Classic period (AD 250–750), Monte Albán’s exclusionary political economy came under threat. Probably in the face of Teotihuacan’s expansion during the Early Classic, Monte Albán’s imperial domain outside the Valley of Oaxaca apparently collapsed, and with it, imperial revenues (Redmond 1981; Spencer 1982). At the same time, principals at Monte Albán faced an increasingly powerful regional elite that dominated emerging secondary centers across the valley (Elson and Sherman 2007; Kowalewski et al. 1989:180, 181–182). Faced with shrinking revenues and rising competition from provincial elites, principals at Monte Albán implemented corporate political strategies to reestablish control over the valley. Here, I postulate that the central political strategy of the Early Classic was the development of bureaucratic structures, which centralized power but divided it among many officials (cf. the assembly government of the Late Formative [see Joyce and Barber. chapter 2, this volume]). Essentially, comparatively faceless and impersonal infrastructural power replaced the personal power and prestige-goods system (exclusionary strategies) of the Terminal Formative. These changes were coupled with a shift from external revenues to internal revenues and, probably, a more collective state. In the following discussion, I marshal archaeological and epigraphic data to support my conjecture.
Terminal Formative settlement patterns indicate a relatively decentralized regional organization. Large settlement nodes (segments) dominated the eastern and northern sections of the valley and smaller nodes proliferated at the edges of the valley, in the southern section and around Monte Albán (Kowalewski et al. 1989:162, figure 7.2). Settlement nucleation increased and relatively more people lived in defensive hilltop sites than in previous periods (Kowalewski et al. 1989:153–156). High-status individuals distributed small amounts of luxury cream ware ceramics through political channels (Kowalewski et al. 1989:171, 173, 180–181). Mound groups throughout the Valley of Oaxaca were relatively closed but showed little uniformity in orientation or layout (Blanton 1989:444). The impression generated by these data is of a segmentary state integrated through elite interaction, including the exchange of prestige goods, the construction of elaborate residences, two-room temples, and tombs, as well as frequent warfare (cf. Kowalewski et al. 1989:199).
Excavations at three of the most important secondary sites occupied during this period indicate that political agents enclosed formerly open public spaces and placed burials either under central temples (e.g., Monte Albán, Dainzu; see also offerings in Structure 35 at San José Mogote) or possibly under private “plazas” (e.g., Cerro Tilcajete) (Bernal and Oliveros 1988; Elson 2007:40; Marcus and Flannery 1996:185; Martínez López et al. 1995:237). Apparently, an emergent hereditary elite “walled off” public spaces and appropriated them as personal and ancestral property. Thus, these elites were claiming large, extremely elaborate architectural complexes that included palaces, temple mounds, and plazas as personal patrimony.
The transition from the Terminal Formative to the Early Classic (AD 250–500) in the Valley of Oaxaca was marked by a massive political reform that extinguished the careers of the provincial elite. The decline of these elites is evidenced by the abandonment of the elite architectural complexes controlled by these individuals and a major shift in settlement locations (e.g., Dainzu, Magdalena Apasco, Tejalapan, San José Mogote, Cerro Tilcajete, Tlatinango, Tlalixtac), probably as a result of state policy that created new bureaucratic centers in their place (Kowalewski et al. 1989:156, 206, 229, table 8.4). Thus, the most important Early Classic centers were newly founded (or were only occupied by hamlets during the preceding Terminal Formative) (e.g., Jalieza, Tlacochahuaya, El Palmillo, Santa Cruz Mixtepec, Tilquiapan) and none were seats of entrenched local power (Kowalewski et al. 1989:229, table 8.5). A massive area encompassing Monte Albán, all of the southern arm of the valley, and the central portion of the eastern arm of the valley now formed the core of a highly integrated regional system (Kowalewski et al. 1989:210, figure 8.1).
The new system deemphasized elite lineages, as evidence by the paucity of highly elaborate Early Classic tombs in excavations at Monte Albán, El Palmillo, San Jose Mogoté, and Dainzu-Macuilxochitl (one possible exception is Monte Albán Tomb 112) (Bernal and Oliveros 1988; Feinman and Nicholas 2003, 2007, 2011a, 2011b; Marcus and Flannery 1996:230). Construction on the Main Plaza at Monte Albán continued and the architectural arrangement became more formal and more closed (Joyce 2010:figure 7.2). Several high-status residences were built along the edges of the Main Plaza at this time (Joyce 2010:218). However tombs remained confined to household contexts and were not placed in monumental platforms (cf. the Terminal Formative and Epiclassic tombs in Oaxaca).
Ruler glorification during the Early Classic was also minimal. Urcid (2005:22) identified one small shrine that showed a named ruler (Lord 5 Jaguar) and his father with 14 unnamed “secondary personages” (possibly bureaucrats governing sections of Monte Albán). At the end of the Early Classic, Lord 13 Night dismantled the shrine and used the carved stones in a resplendent construction commemorating his enthronement and military success (Joyce 2010:213; Urcid 2005:22). However, this building was also dismantled, sometime during the Late Classic, and yet another ruler reused the stones in the foundation of the South Platform (Urcid 2005:23). I argue that repeated dismantling of these monuments suggests a lack of hereditary continuity in rule throughout the Classic. I would expect that persistence in lineages would have resulted in preservation of previous monuments and the construction of new ones alongside them or the careful burying of previous monuments (cf. the North Acropolis and Temples 1 and 2 at Tikal [Sharer and Traxler 2006:302–303]).
Away from Monte Albán, public architecture, although exhibiting a high degree of conformity in orientation in accordance with centralized control, emphasized numerous open and accessible plazas possibly associated with functionally specialized buildings that were not personal residences of political officials (Blanton 1989:444, 446). Consistent with the deemphasis of tombs and more open public architecture, elaborate cream wares were replaced by standardized and relatively plainer gray wares (e.g., G-23 and G-35) that were widely distributed across the Valley, as well as across socioeconomic classes (Caso et al. 1967:311; Kowalewski et al. 1989:213–214).
Hereditary power only again became a dominant theme in architecture and iconography with the transition to the Late Classic/Epiclassic (AD 500–900). High-status lineages began to commemorate genealogies in mural paintings within elaborate residential tombs constructed below houses (e.g., Tombs 104 and 105). Highly elaborate tombs abound from this period at Monte Albán (e.g., Tombs 103, 104, 105, 112, Atzompa Edificio 6) as well as many other sites (e.g., Reyes Etla, El Palmillo, Lambityeco, Yagul) (Bernal and Gamio 1974; Bernal and Oliveros 1988; Feinman and Nicholas 2003, 2007, 2011a, 2011b; Joyce 2010:204; Lind and Urcid 2010:ch. 7; Marcus and Flannery 1996:211–216; Miller 1995:68–73; Robles García et al. 2014; Urcid 2005:50, 63–64, table 1-1). At provincial sites, political elites begin to encroach on the open plazas of the Early Classic, reducing their area and closing them off with buildings containing subfloor tombs (e.g., El Palmillo [Feinman and Nicholas 2003, 2007, 2011a, 2011b]). Also, Terminal Formative elite complexes at Dainzu and Cerro Tilcajete were reoccupied and new tombs were constructed (Bernal and Oliveros 1988; Elson 2007:89, 92).
I argue that the patterns in architecture, epigraphy, and artifacts suggest that power was centralized during the Early Classic using corporate strategies that broke down traditional provincial elite domains. Based on the cross-cultural comparative data presented above as well as the specific case of the Tang dynasty, I hypothesize that corporate strategies centered on the establishment of horizontal divisions of power and the development of precise-appeal hierarchies that bypassed traditional elite power bases. Within this context, open and competitive selection for “bureaucratic” positions would have been an important strategy to reduce hereditary power. The decline of venerable elite lineages throughout the valley (evidenced by the abandonment of elite architectural complexes), the dramatic reorganization of the regional political system with entirely new administrative seats, and the largely faceless nature of power throughout the Early Classic correspond with this hypothesis.
Conclusions
Power-sharing is an important feature of many states across cultures and through time and is not limited to modern European nation states. In this chapter, I used power-sharing philosophies from two distinct cultural traditions (Europe and China) to guide the development of a cross-cultural measure of corporate (shared) power. I concluded that corporate strategies involve the division of power among functional specialized hierarchies or assemblies, as well as open selection and monitoring of officials and the development of corporate cognitive codes that emphasize egalitarian administrative and judicial philosophies (Unfortunately extant data are insufficient to evaluate corporate cognitive codes, indicating an area that requires more intensive cross-cultural research). I then evaluated the correlation among corporate power strategies and collective action, as well as control of the behavior of principals, using the 30-state sample coded for the collective action project (Blanton and Fargher 2008). The results indicate that corporate political strategies are strongly correlated with both collective action and control of principals. I then went on to examine the deployment of corporate power strategies and their results in Sui-Tang–dynasty China and Terminal Formative/Early Classic Valley of Oaxaca. In both cases, corporate strategies helped to centralize power and reduce the influence of hereditary provincial elites. The outcome in both cases was a high degree of power-sharing that lasted for about 200 to 250 years.