chapter one
Introduction
This study is about cultural change, specifically political evolution in the Valley of Oaxaca during the Xoo phase (ca. 650–850 CE). It also encompasses economic change insofar as it relates to political evolution. The data for this study come from the archaeological site of Lambityeco, a secondary center during the seventh to ninth centuries CE, when Monte Albán was the primary center in the Valley of Oaxaca. Lambityeco provides a perspective from a secondary center, some 25 km1 from Monte Albán, into the rise of the capital of Classic period Zapotec civilization to its highest peak during the Xoo phase and ultimately to its collapse at the end of the same phase.
As this study concerns cultural evolution, it is appropriate to comment on our approach. Cultural evolution, and not the naïve “Laws of Cultural Evolution” proposed by some archaeologists in the 1970s, is the outcome of two universal processes: one ecological and one sociocultural. Ecological processes may bring about cultural transformations through either natural or human-engendered changes in the environment. A society affects its habitat and, in turn, is affected by it. Sociocultural dynamics both within a society and external to it may also bring about cultural change. External variables may foster change by the interaction of one society with others. Internal pressures may induce change through competition and conflicts among individuals and among groups within the society.
In recent years, archaeologists have turned to agency and ideology to explain cultural evolution, pointing out that humans are not passive respondents to cultural evolutionary processes but active agents of cultural change (Hodder and Hutson 2003). We, as well, do not view humans as passive respondents to the cultural evolutionary processes outlined above. Humans actively engage their environments and one another and, in turn, are affected by ecological and sociocultural processes. By using simultaneously two analytical levels, we do not see a conflict between agency and the cultural evolutionary processes outlined above. We do object, however, to those who consider agency and ideology the sole forces of cultural evolution. In the concluding chapter, agency in the context of broader processes will be applied to political evolution in the Valley of Oaxaca during the Xoo phase.
Although cultural evolution deals with change, it does not treat evidence of cultural continuity in the archaeological record (Hodder and Hutson 2003:139). There is archaeological evidence for long-term cultural continuity in certain practices that indicates that the ancestors of the present-day Zapotecs inhabited the Valley of Oaxaca over a long period of time. In excavations at Lambityeco and the nearby Postclassic site of Yagul (Bernal and Gamio 1974:41) bowls covered with a shallow bowl as a lid have been found interred beneath patios and room floors of houses. Present-day Zapotecs place the umbilical cord of newborns in a bowl covered with a shallow bowl as a lid and bury it beneath the courtyards or room floors of their houses (see Chapter 9). This cultural practice or “custom,” then, can be followed uninterrupted at least from the Late Classic at Lambityeco through the Postclassic at Yagul to the present-day Zapotec inhabitants of the region (see also Markens, Winter, and Martínez 2008:206 for examples from Macuilxóchitl). This exemplifies the continuity of a practice over a period of at least 1,400 years despite changes in the political, social, economic, and religious organization and even the types of ceramics used by the Zapotecs who inhabit this region. This practice also has been found at the “Oaxaca barrio” in Teotihuacan during the Xolalpan phase, ca. 350–550 CE (Michael Spence, personal communication, 1994).
Although this example may seem trivial, it alerts us to the importance of taking cultural continuities into account even while studying cultural evolution. Knowing that the present-day Zapotecs have a long cultural evolutionary history in the Valley of Oaxaca strengthens the use of ethnographic analogies and ethnohistoric models that may be tested against the archaeological remains. Examples are a model of the Formative period Zapotec cosmos (Flannery and Marcus 1976), lauded by Hodder and Hutson (2003:32–33), and Flannery’s interpretation of Classic Monte Albán’s political system, based on ethnohistoric documents, with regard to which he states, “I would not even attempt this reconstruction were the archaeological continuity in the Valley of Oaxaca not so remarkable” (Flannery 1983:132).
ARCHAEOLOGICAL APPROACHES TO CULTURAL EVOLUTION
Traditional archaeological undertakings of the study of cultural change involve the use of stratigraphic test pit excavations and surface or settlement pattern surveys. Long, continuous archaeological sequences are broken up into discrete blocks of time or phases on the basis of observed changes in artifact types found in stratigraphic test pits. Collections of diagnostic artifact types are used to determine the number of sites in a region and their size, complexity, and geographical spacing for each phase. The changes in these settlement patterns from one phase to the next have served as the basis for interpreting the cultural evolution of ancient civilizations.
This traditional approach might be labeled “stratigraphic or sequential segregation” because it involves the use of stratigraphically or sequentially segregated phases or time periods. Although each phase is frequently from 200 to 400 years long, archaeologists treat it as if it were a static and unchanging time period within the history of an ancient civilization. The study of cultural change, then, has meant interpreting the changes from one sequentially segregated phase to the next and, as Hodder and Hutson (2003:130) point out, “there is little notion of history as a continuous process.”
In a seminal article on archaeological chronology, Michael Smith (1992: 29) has pointed out the need for recognizing different time scales for different research designs. “Studies of large-scale demographic patterns or subsistence strategies can be carried out successfully with phases of several centuries’ length, while analyses of the changing social or economic conditions of states or empires require finer phases, on the order of a century or less.” We know that a considerable amount of political, social, and economic change may take place in a civilization within a phase of 200 to 400 years’ duration. “Archaeology needs a construct that can treat 200–400 year intervals in a dynamic, not static, framework” (Smith 1992:25). Nevertheless, few archaeologists have developed research strategies for elucidating the changes within a phase.
The archaeological approach in this study could be called “stratigraphic or sequential integration” because it focuses on transformations within a phase. Change is revealed in the stratigraphic patterning of the archaeological remains. Stratigraphic patterning is the sequential interrelationships among features and artifacts. A simple example is house remains. A house may be built, remodeled, added to, and rebuilt. These continuous remodelings, additions, and rebuildings of the house, together with the artifacts and features associated with it, constitute stratigraphic patterning in the archaeological remains; and because the persons who effected the successive changes found in the house remains were functioning members of an ancient culture, these changes reflect the ongoing changes in their cultural system (Lind 1977, 1979, 1987). As Smith (1992:28) observes, “structures which exhibit a high degree of modification and rebuilding can produce relatively fine chronological controls.”
Applying a sequential integration approach can reveal changes within a phase that a static sequential segregation strategy cannot. Archaeologists who excavate Xoo phase sites in the Valley of Oaxaca are blessed with a constellation of features that are conducive to a sequential integration approach. All Xoo phase houses, elite and commoner, have household tombs in which successive generations of married couples2 who headed the household were interred (Winter 1974; Lind and Urcid 1983). Counting the number of interments in a tomb allows for calculating the number of generations a house—or, more commonly, a stratified series of houses—was occupied. Generally, each successive generation of married couples who headed households remodeled or rebuilt the house above the tomb. Therefore, it is usually possible to trace the ongoing cultural changes generation by generation.
Excavations in Mound 195 at Lambityeco have uncovered a series of superimposed elite houses and associated tombs dating to the Xoo phase, a time period during which the community reached its maximum size, then ceased to exist as a functioning aggregate, and was largely abandoned. During this same time period, the capital center of Monte Albán reached a peak of political and economic growth and then collapsed. Later in this study, the excavated remains from Lambityeco will be analyzed in accordance with a sequential integration approach to provide a new perspective on political evolution in the Valley of Oaxaca during these two centuries.
ANCIENT POLITIES
The question of identifying polities from archaeological remains is an important one if we are to discuss political evolution in the Valley of Oaxaca during the Xoo phase. Over the past few decades, archaeologists have used settlement pattern data to interpret the nature of ancient polities. These interpretations are usually done on a “biggest is best” principle whereby the largest site in a region, the primary center, is viewed as the capital of a unified state, and second-, third-, and fourth-ranking sites are viewed in descending order of political importance. However, no simple one-to-one correlation exists between the size of an ancient community and its political importance.
Ethnohistoric data from the Nochixtlán Valley in the Mixteca Alta immediately north of the Valley of Oaxaca make it clear that attributing political importance to sites on the basis of gross population size or a “biggest is best” principle is an inadequate approach to interpreting the nature of ancient polities from settlement pattern data. At the time of the Conquest, the Nochixtlán Valley communities included one primary center with a population of 24,000 persons, two second-ranking towns between 4,000 and 6,000 in population, a number of third-ranking villages with populations between 1,000 and 2,000 persons, and fourth-ranking hamlets with populations of 500 persons or less (Lind 1979:5). An archaeologist using a “biggest is best” approach would conclude that the primary center was the capital of a territorial state in the Nochixtlán Valley, which included a couple of large towns that served as important “secondary administrative centers” and numerous smaller third- and fourth-ranking villages and hamlets. However, this simplistic interpretation would be incorrect.
Sixteenth-century documents do not record the presence of a territorial state headed by a primary center in the Nochixtlán Valley. Instead, the ethnohistoric data document the existence of six separate city-states. The capitals of these city-states included the primary center, the two “second-ranking” centers, and three of the “third-ranking” centers. Although the primary center was the capital of the largest city-state, the smallest “third-ranking” community was the capital of the second-largest city-state (Lind 1979:4–7).
The Nochixtlán Valley ethnohistoric data alert us to two potential problem areas in analyzing ancient settlement patterns to interpret the nature of ancient polities. First, the political importance of an ancient community cannot be determined solely by its gross population size, an observation also made by Flannery (1998:55). The capitals of Nochixtlán Valley city-states were as small as 1,200 persons and as large as 24,000 persons. As Feinman (1998:131–132) has noted, “ancient states were generally small.” Second, the existence of a territorial state cannot be determined solely by the presence of an exceptionally large primary center and second-, third-, and fourth-order sites ranked on the basis of gross population size. The Nochixtlán Valley was not unified into a territorial state by its primary center despite the fact that this settlement was four times as large as the next-largest community. Instead, six independent city-states with capitals of varying sizes coexisted in the region. Clearly, other factors must be taken into account in addition to population size when assessing the political importance of an ancient community and interpreting ancient polities from settlement pattern data.
In recent years, archaeologists have begun addressing the problem of interpreting ancient polities from these data. In the Maya region, Fox and colleagues (1996:795) have discussed the “disagreement about how autonomous, populous, and centralized such polities might have been.” They note two general models of Maya polities: “Decentralized models portray kinship-based states undergirded by religion, fluctuating political alliance, and regal-ritual centers of various sizes. Centralized models portray hierarchical states with bureaucracies, urbanism, and populations with political and economic differentiation” (Fox et al. 1996:801).
Using epigraphic evidence, Martin and Grube (2000:17–21) attempted to bridge these different models, especially for the Late Classic Maya, with their concept of “overkings.” Overkings were rulers of large and powerful centers who often established hegemony over leaders from some other centers, extracting tribute and labor services but leaving them in charge of their own centers. As Grube (2000:560) points out, “Even though large states such as Tikal and Calakmul managed to establish long-term ‘mini-empires,’ the city-state structure persisted as the principal political unit.”
Hansen (2000, 2002) compiled a comparative study of city-states throughout the world and introduced the concept of city-state culture. He defines a city-state as “a highly institutionalized and highly centralized micro-state consisting of one town . . . with its immediate hinterland . . . settled with a stratified population” (Hansen 2000:19). Although most of the population lives in the town, the rest populate nucleated villages and homesteads in the hinterland that are not more than a day’s walk from the town. “The urban economy implies specialisation of function and division of labor to such an extent that the population has to satisfy a significant part of their daily needs by purchase in the city’s market” (Hansen 2000:19). City-states are self-governing polities but may be under the hegemony of other city-states. A city-state culture refers to a number of neighboring city-states that occupy a region and whose members generally speak the same language and have a centuries’ long history of interacting with one another (Hansen 2000:16). Hansen’s model of the city-state and city-state culture clearly applies to the Nochixtlán Valley data cited above and to the Postclassic Mixtecs in general (Lind 2000). It also applies to the Maya (Grube 2000), the Aztecs (Smith 2000), and the Postclassic Zapotecs (Oudijk 2002) in the Valley of Oaxaca. Indeed, city-states seem to be the basic polity configuration throughout much of Mesoamerica (Smith and Schreiber 2006:8).
Trigger (2003:chapter 6) in an exhaustive comparison of seven early civilizations has identified two types of states—city-states and territorial states. Unlike city-states, territorial states are organized into provinces by a central government that appoints governors to rule over them (Trigger 2003:118). Also unlike city-states, territorial states control larger territories and have less populous cities, their rulers have much larger surpluses at their disposal, and there is centralized control over the economy (Trigger 2003:110–112). Trigger’s examples of territorial states include ancient Egypt, northern China (Shang and Zhou), and that of the Inka.
Marcus (1998:92) suggests that territorial states are the only true states and that city-states are simply the result of the breakdown of earlier territorial states. She cites the Valley of Oaxaca as one of her examples in which she posits that Monte Albán was the capital of a territorial state that broke down in the Terminal Classic and Postclassic, resulting in numerous small principalities (Marcus 1998:68–71). Marcus (1998:92) goes on to state that “we should avoid the term ‘city-state’ whenever possible, substituting instead a more appropriate regional or indigenous term such as cuchcabal, ahaulel, altepetl, hesp, nome, cacicazgo, curacazgo, or señorío.” Finally, she notes that archaeologists should not think that “city-states” are states “simply because their rulers drew heavily on the ideology and symbolism of their more powerful predecessors” (Marcus 1998:93). Trigger, however, disagrees with Marcus, pointing out that “the long persistence of both types in different regions of the world suggests that territorial states and city-states are stable alternatives rather than sequential stages in the development of more complex societies” (Trigger 2003:93).
Although Marcus does not address the political nature of empires, she notes that states involved “only one ethnic group (such as the Maya) and ‘empires’ . . . involved the conquest of foreign peoples (such as the Aztec or Inka)” (Marcus 1998:91–92). Recently, Smith and Montiel (2001) tackled the problem of identifying empires from archaeological remains, clearly distinguishing hegemonic empires, such as the Aztecs, from territorial empires, such as the Inka (Smith and Montiel 2001:251). They identify three principal archaeological criteria, each with subcategories that can be used to identify an empire: the imperial capital, the domination of a territory, and the projection of influence in a larger interregional context (Smith and Montiel 2001:247). Applying their model to the Central Highlands of Mesoamerica, they found that Teotihuacan and Tenochtitlan met the criteria for empires but Tula did not; there was no Toltec empire (Smith and Montiel 2001:269). However, they suggest the possibility that other Central Highland empires might also have existed, among them a possible Zapotec empire with its capital at Monte Albán (Smith and Montiel 2001:270, 272).
The question of whether Lambityeco and Monte Albán were autonomous city-states that participated in a Zapotec city-state culture in the Valley of Oaxaca during the Xoo phase or Lambityeco was a provincial center of a territorial state headed by Monte Albán will be discussed in Chapter 2 and returned to in the concluding chapter. Whether Monte Albán was the imperial capital of a Zapotec empire during the Xoo phase will be discussed in the concluding chapter.
WORLD SYSTEMS AND THE CORE PERIPHERY STRUCTURE
In recent decades, there has been much discussion of world systems and core periphery structures. As Smith and Montiel (2001:250) point out, “The world-systems approach, as modified for premodern societies, provides a useful framework for viewing the role of empires within their larger international context.”
Santley and Alexander (1996) applied such an approach to Classic Mesoamerica as a whole with Teotihuacan as the core. They postulated that Teotihuacan was a hegemonic empire with a dendritic political economy in which “the core dominates the periphery economically but there is little or no direct political control over it” (1996:176). They found that
[t]he core-periphery system centered at Teotihuacan . . . was one that was probably largely oriented to Central Mexico. Spatially, its “world” was comparatively small-scale and involved the distribution of large quantities of basic goods and secondary products only within a limited radius of the city (ca. 150 km). Teotihuacan also had a secondary periphery that incorporated most of Mesoamerica. . . . Teotihuacan interests in this secondary periphery were probably mainly political in nature, although the city may have been associated with the movement of certain basic and secondary products and preciosities produced there. (Santley and Alexander 1996:194)
Smith and Berdan (2003) applied a world-systems approach to Post-classic Mesoamerica as a whole with Tenochtitlan as a core and found the model lacking. Instead, they developed a much more enriched model in which core zones, affluent production zones, resource extraction zones, unspecialized peripheral zones, exchange circuits, interregional trade centers, and style zones make up the spatial components of the world system (Smith and Berdan 2003:24–25). In the concluding chapter of this volume, certain aspects of these models will be examined with regard to Monte Albán’s “world system.”
ANCIENT ZAPOTEC POLITICAL ORGANIZATION
Ancient Zapotec political organization has been characterized in the broadest, vaguest, and most general of terms. Some scholars considered Monte Albán to have been a ceremonial center ruled by priests (Bernal 1958b:3; Paddock 1966:151). Blanton’s surveys (1978) demonstrated that Monte Albán was not simply a ceremonial center with a small resident ruling priesthood but a densely populated urban center with political, religious, and economic functions. However, Blanton was equally as vague as others in his characterization of ancient Zapotec political organization. He considered that, throughout its existence, Monte Albán functioned as a “disembedded political capital” ruled by a military confederacy. If we are to study political systems archaeologically, it is clear that we need better models than vaguely conceived ruling priesthoods or military juntas.
In developing such models, Mesoamerican archaeologists could benefit from a direct historical approach whenever possible (Spores 1972; Lind 1979). The Valley of Oaxaca with its long history of Zapotec occupation is an ideal setting for generating ethnohistoric models that can be tested against the archaeological data. In the sixteenth century, Spanish priests and bureaucrats recorded information on Zapotec culture as it existed at the time of the Spanish Conquest. Among these documents are the Zapotec-Spanish vocabulary compiled by Fray Juan de Córdova (1987 [1578]) in the first half of the sixteenth century in Teitipac, some 10 km west of Lambityeco and present-day Tlacolula, and the Relaciones Geográficas, reports produced from questionnaires ordered by King Phillip II of Spain from 1579 to 1581 CE that pertain to several Zapotec towns in the Valley of Oaxaca and beyond. Especially important, however, are the lienzos, or pictorial genealogies, prepared by the Zapotecs themselves (Whitecotton 1977, 1982, 1983, 1990, 2003; Oudijk 2002, 2008). In these lienzos, the Zapotecs list the genealogies of their Prehispanic rulers back as far as seventeen generations to the real or mythical founders of their royal house (Oudijk 2008:107).
At the time of the Spanish Conquest, the Valley of Oaxaca was divided into some thirteen city-states (Oudijk 2002:80–81). Each city-state, queche in Zapotec, was headed by a hereditary ruler, coqui, who resided in a palace, quihui, in the capital and appointed nobles, xoana, to rule subject communities (Oudijk 2002:77). The Lienzo de Guevea portrays coqui with small, pointed beards to distinguish them from the xoana (Paddock 1983b:18).
In the pictorial genealogies, each coqui is pictured together with his principal wife, who was given the title xonaxi (Whitecotton 1983). Coqui and xonaxi were named after their days of birth in the Zapotec divinatory calendar of 260 days. A glyph for the name of the day together with a sign for the number of the day in the calendar were recorded to give the number-day combination, or day-of-birth, name. In sixteenth-century Spanish documents, these calendar names are sometimes written in Zapotec using Spanish orthography. Thus, in one document, coqui-xonaxi couples are identified as Coqui 7 Flint and Xonaxi 12 Monkey, Coqui 7 Grass and Xonaxi 1 Flower, and Coqui 2 Reed and Xonaxi 7 Grass (Whitecotton 1983:66–67). Because only 260 number-day combinations were possible in the divinatory calendar, different individuals sometimes had the same calendar name, such as Coqui 7 Grass and Xonaxi 7 Grass, who were actually separated in time by ten generations (Whitecotton 1983:66).
The coqui and xonaxi also had personal names and birth-order names (Whitecotton 1983). Personal names recorded for xonaxi include Pink Flower and Little Jaguar, whereas personal names of coqui include Lightning and Eagle (Whitecotton 1983:66–67). The use of birth-order names shows that each coqui-xonaxi couple was very concerned that each of their children be formally identified in accordance with his or her birth-order rank (Paddock 1983b:21; Whitecotton 1990:156).
In addition to a principal wife or xonaxi, each coqui may have had secondary wives. In Codex Tonindeye or Nuttall, a Prehispanic Mixtec manuscript, two successive generations of rulers, apparently coqui of Zaachila, are each shown with two royal wives (Oudijk 2008:102–103). Although none of the known Zapotec pictorial genealogies portrays a coqui with more than one spouse, the Relación de Guaxilotitlán (now Huitzo) (see Fig. 2.1 for location of Huitzo) states that coqui married fifteen to twenty wives (Çarate 1581:198), and the Relación de Tecuicuilco (see Fig. 10.1 for location of Teocuicuilco) reports that coqui could have as many wives as they wanted but only one was the principal wife and only her children inherited from the coqui; the children of the other wives were considered bastards and did not inherit even if the principal wife had no children (Villagar 1580:93). One of the entries in Córdova (1987:52v), xìni huàho, means “bastard offspring” and specifically refers to the offspring of lords with commoner women. Thus, it is apparent that the secondary “wives” to whom Spanish bureaucrats referred actually may have been concubines, making it difficult to assess the extent of polygyny practiced by coqui.
The Relación de Tecuicuilco also states that the principal wife of a coqui had to be the daughter of another coqui (Villagar 1580:93), which means that she had to come from a different city-state than her husband. It is also evident that she was the eldest daughter of her royal parents (Whitecotton 1990:54). The genealogy of the city-state of Macuilxóchitl names fifteen successive generations of coqui-xonaxi couples and identifies the different city-states from which each xonaxi came. As Whitecotton (1990:17) points out, these marriages were arranged to establish political alliances between city-states.
Here we would like to point to possible gender bias with regard to the ethnohistoric interpretations of Zapotec rulership, which consistently mention males as the rulers of city-states. Colonial Zapotec pictorial genealogies repeatedly depict both the coqui and the xonaxi together and both are portrayed as equal in size, suggesting that they are equal in status (Urcid, Winter, and Matadamas 1994:34). This indicates that coqui and xonaxi shared the rulership of city-states as king and queen and governed the city-state together as co-rulers. Later in this study we will present archaeological evidence that not only extends the Zapotec practice of coequal male-female rulership back to the Xoo phase but also demonstrates that household heads among commoners as well as nobles were married couples who were coequals, and each couple included a direct descendant from the married couple who had founded the household.3
Whitecotton (1977:144) suggests that the Zapotecs probably had a preference for primogeniture in which a coqui was generally succeeded by his eldest son, a practice that, of course, reflects the concern with birth-order rank. With regard to a Zapotec pictorial genealogy from Etla, he reports: “In the early generations on the Etla document—where all individuals have only Zapotec names—first born males . . . always marry first born females” (Whitecotton 1990:54).4 This indicates that the eldest son (yobi) of a coqui and xonaxi married an eldest daughter (zaa) of another coqui and xonaxi and that the married couple became co-rulers. An eldest son inherited his father’s city-state, and he became co-ruler with his wife who was the eldest daughter of the coqui-xonaxi couple who ruled another city-state. Although this is technically primogeniture, such a rule places an emphasis on the role of the male. Perhaps the term “coprimogeniture” could be coined because the eldest son’s eldest sister was also most likely destined to become a co-ruler of a city-state.
Following death, a coqui was generally succeeded by his eldest son.5 Fray Pedro de los Ríos, who was in the southern mountains of Oaxaca in 1547–1548 CE (Quiñones-Keber 1995:131), noted that the Zapotecs from Coatlán (see Fig. 10.1 for location) “honored their dead in a way almost like the Spaniards for they built a tomb . . . and placed much food around it” (Quiñones-Keber 1995:254). He further states that “after the bodies had been eaten away, they unearthed the bones from the tomb and put them in ossuaries made of mortar in the patios of their temples” (Quiñones-Keber 1995:254). However, he only reports burial practices in general and does not specify the treatment of deceased local coqui. As far as burial practices in the Valley of Oaxaca between 300 and 850 CE is concerned, there is no evidence of secondary burials and their eventual placement in masonry ossuaries within the courtyards of temples.
As mentioned above, the coqui and xonaxi appointed nobles (xoana) to rule the subject communities of the city-state (Whitecotton 1977:144). These nobles also traced their descent from a real or mythical founder of their noble house that was a secondary line of descent or cadet lineage from that of the real or mythical founders of the royal house of the coqui (Oudijk 2002:77). The coqui and xoana also “had intermediaries who collected tribute, organized the work force, controlled the fields, and were in charge of military divisions” (Oudijk 2002:77–78). The Relación de Miguatlan (see Fig. 2.1 for location of Miahuatlán) refers to the tribute collector and procurer of labor services as a golave. “The Indians of Miahuatlán . . . have golaves, which are like bosses; each golave is in charge of a barrio . . . of ten Indians, some more others less: he collects tribute . . . and assigns them the personal services to which they must attend” (Gutiérrez 1609:296; English translation by the authors).6 Elsewhere these individuals have been referred to as golaba (Flannery and Marcus 1976:376; Lind and Urcid 1983).
Although the ancient Zapotecs had a hierarchical priestly organization, the extent to which priestly roles were separate from the ruling and administrative offices is unclear. The high priest was called huíatào (Córdova 1987:367), literally “great seer” (Burgoa 1934, II:350; Smith Stark 2002:138–139), and played an important role in the enthronement ceremonies of coqui (Córdova 1987:92v). The next echelon in the professional priestly organization was occupied by the huezàyèche, described explicitly by Córdova (1987:299v) as “minor priests,” although the term literally means “builder of temples” (Smith Stark 2002:139–140). According to Burgoa (1934, II:168), the positions of priests were filled by the second sons (tini) of coqui and xoana, referring generically to these priests as vijanas. The Relación de Miaguatlan refers to these priests as bigañas (Espíndola 1580:128). Such a term literally means “priestly apprentice” (Seler 1904:277; Smith Stark 2002:141–142) but was evidently used metonymically in sixteenth- and seventeenth-century documents as “servants of god.”
Ethnohistoric documents provide a model of ancient Zapotec political organization on the eve of the Spanish conquest that is more nuanced than vaguely conceived “ruling priesthoods” or “military confederacies.” Taken together with the above discussion of ancient polities, the model suggests that if Monte Albán was a city-state that exerted hegemony over other smaller city-states in the Valley of Oaxaca during the Xoo phase, then we would expect to find evidence of a local royal lineage of coqui and xonaxi who enjoyed a degree of political autonomy in ruling their small city-state. On the other hand, if Monte Albán had established a territorial state in the Valley of Oaxaca, we would expect to find evidence that the rulers of Monte Albán had appointed governors to rule over provincial centers like Lambityeco.
In the chapters that follow, the nature of ancient Zapotec political organization and its evolution from ca. 650 to 850 CE will be assessed with regard to the archaeological researches at Lambityeco. Lambityeco is the only Xoo phase community outside Monte Albán that has been the subject of intensive archaeological investigations. Chapter 2 provides some background on Classic period Zapotec civilization and then focuses on Lambityeco’s role within the Valley of Oaxaca during the Xoo phase. Chapter 3 discusses the economic basis of Lambityeco during that time. Chapter 4 examines the structure of the community of Lambityeco. Chapter 5 presents background information on excavations at the site and discusses the most ancient structures within Mound 195—the Structures 195-6, 195-5, and 195-4 of Mound 195 Sub. Chapter 6 describes the last elite residence built atop Mound 195 Sub—Structure 195-3. Chapter 7 presents an analysis and interpretation of Tomb 6—an elite tomb associated with the last three structures of Mound 195 Sub. Chapter 8 describes the Houses of Tomb 3 and Tomb 4—two neighboring households of commoners located near the elite residences of Mound 195 Sub—and assesses their relationship to these elite households. Chapter 9 discusses the transformation of Mound 195 into a civic residential complex and describes the final structures built atop the mound, Structures 195-2 and 195-1. Finally, Chapter 10 explores the changes in Xoo phase political organization in the Valley of Oaxaca as revealed by a sequential integration approach to the successive elite residences of Mound 195. It also examines the relationship between Lambityeco and Monte Albán during that time and postulates a hypothetical model for the collapse of Lambityeco and Monte Albán at the end of the Xoo phase.
NOTES
1. All distance measurements are given in metric terms and include a number followed by an abbreviation of the metric unit: km = kilometer; m = meter; cm = centimeter; and mm = millimeter.
2. Only human skeletal remains of adult males and females occur in household tombs and they usually include approximately equal numbers of males and females. As will become evident in subsequent chapters, it is clear that these individuals were married couples who headed the household and were buried in the household tomb.
3. No term for “a coequal male-female married couple who head a household” exists in English. Instead, we are stuck with the one-sided term “household head,” which usually implies a male or paterfamilias. Although the institutionalized male household head was apparently common among Nahua groups (Carrasco 1964), there do not appear to have been institutionalized male household heads among the Zapotecs either during Postclassic / Early Colonial times or during the Late Classic Xoo phase. Wherever possible, we have been careful to use the more cumbersome “married couples who headed households” instead of using the androcentric term “household heads.”
4. The Etla genealogy shows that nobles (xoana) also married eldest sons to eldest daughters (Whitecotton 1990). However, it is unclear whether or not commoners also followed this practice, although it is likely that they did whenever possible.
5. Two carved Xoo phase stones, Stela MA-VGE-2 from Monte Albán and the Noriega Stone, appear to depict xonaxi as sole rulers following the death of a coqui. In one example, the Noriega Stone, it appears that the eldest son and heir to the coqui is a child who was too young to govern (Urcid 1999). In Stela MA-VGE-2 several xonaxi are depicted in the rulership role or as legitimators in the transference of such an office (Urcid, Winter, and Matadamas 1994).
6. “Los indios de Miguatlan . . . tienen golaves, que es tanto como mandones; cada golave tiene a su cargo vn barrio . . . de diez indios, vnos mas y otros menos: este cobra el tributo . . . y les rreparte los seruicios personales a que an de acudir” (Gutiérrez 1609:296).