"A Certain Herb Called Coca:"
A Study of Coca's Role in Andean Society
and Its Under-valuation by Scholars
Jeffrey Voris
Submitted in partial fulfillment of the requirements for the
B.A. in
Latin American & Caribbean Studies/American Culture, University of Michigan,
May, 1995.
"In certain valleys, among the mountains, the heat is marvellous,
and there do groweth a certain herb called Coca, which the Indians do esteem
more than gold or silver; the leaves thereof are like unto Zamake (sumach);
the virtue of this herb, found by experience, is that any man having these
leaves in his mouth hath never hunger nor thirst."
-Augustin de Zarate, contador real
under Viceroy Blasco Nuñez Vela [1]
Many writers, both colonial and modern, refer to coca in passing when they
examine the rise of complex societies in the Central Andes. They note its
prevalence and importance in ethnohistoric times, but they then practically
ignore it in consideration of the process by which complex societies arose
and maintained themselves. They most often write glowingly, albeit briefly,
of the use of coca in ceremonies or in trading, but fail to analyze the
depth or breadth of its influence in the pre-Hispanic and colonial Andes.
However, coca cannot be so easily divorced from relations of growth in social
complexity. In fact, coca was an integral economic and social unifier in
stratified Andean society.
For the purposes of this study we will consider the leaves of the shrub
called coca, of the genus Erythroxylum. Particularly, the types to which
we refer are the several cultivated South American varieties containing
the alkaline cocaine.[2] The low content of cocaine in the leaves precludes
the mind-altering and addictive effects of refined cocaine, and a great
many Andean people chew the leaves of the plant for their mild narcotic
effects. Because coca lessens high altitude stress, it essentially makes
life more bearable in the harsh vertical landscape of the Andean mountains.
In the words of María Rostworowski de Diez Canseco, "[c]oca
was used as medicine and stimulation, to allay cold, fatigue, pain, and
hunger, as well as for ritual and social purposes."[3] Further, according
to ethnographer Catherine J. Allen, "when masticated with calcium carbonate,
coca's effect is similar to that produced by a cup of coffee and an aspirin
tablet."[4]
Coca, then, is a very practical consideration in Andean life. Its importance
as an economic commodity has been recognized for many centuries, from pre-Incaic
to Incaic, to colonial and modern times. Because coca can only be grown
in certain regions, it is a prime candidate to have played an important
role within Murra's archipelago theory as well as other theoretical socioeconomic
systems. As a good with a limited range of production, coca was accessible
to many groups only through trade. The process of obtaining it offered massive
potential for social growth for those who could gain a relative monopoly
on the regions of production. Of course, inclusion in models such as Murra's
is contingent upon the provision that coca was a highly desired item in
Andean life, as we will shortly show it to have been. That is, in order
to be considered as having been vitally important, coca must be proven to
have been a greatly valued and sought-after item.
"The geographic zone favored above all others for coca production in
pre-Hispanic times," writes Patricia J. Netherly, "lies on the
western side of the Andean cordilleras."[5] Farther south, Rostworowski
discusses the chaupi yunga of the Chillón Valley, the "middle
valley zone" of coca production.[6] In both cases, the broadest total
range of elevation is from roughly 200m above sea level to 1,800m above
sea level, varying depending on distance from the equator. While this is
a fairly considerable range, we must also consider that coca requires tropical
growing conditions, as well as reasonably intensive labor input and irrigation.
The general consensus of researchers is that coca probably originated in
the North, and spread throughout the Andes as its benefits were recognized.[7]
In addition to its positive physical effects, coca chewing played an important
role in interpersonal relations.
Its benefits, both religious and social, afforded coca an honored place
in Andean cosmology, undoubtedly linked to its importance as a physiological
agent. As researcher Patricia J. Netherly notes, "We are becoming increasingly
aware of the importance of coca in the religious and cosmological beliefs
of Andean peoples."[8] This awareness is vital to our understanding
of coca's role in Andean life and therefore its potential power as a socioeconomic
unifier. As such, we must recognize its importance in Andean worldview as
a baseline from which to examine the archaeological and ethnohistoric records.
Netherly, though, refers to the modern anthropological importance of the
plant, not the kind of vitality which cemented social relations within pre-Hispanic
Andean life. This is a general problem in contemporary writings. Authors
often cite the fact that modern researchers have begun to understand how
integral coca is in modern social relations, while at once neglecting the
even more substantial part coca played before European cultures and economic
systems conquered indigenous organizational structures. Nonetheless, some
writers have laid claim to a history of coca which includes its ritual and
ideological roots.
In his landmark 1901 study entitled Peru: History of Coca, "the Divine
Plant" of the Incas, W. Golden Mortimer paid tribute to coca's cosmological
value to Andean peoples. As he says, coca
was considered the greatest of all natural productions and as such was offered
in their
sacrifices. Their ceremonial offerings were made to their conception of
deity-the sun, which
they held to be the giver of all earthly blessings.[9]
Mortimer bases his claim on the testimony of modern ancestors of the Inca,
but his point validates the claim that Andean peoples have valued coca as
a sacred good since time immemorial. Likewise, Netherly notes that in "[a]n
origin myth for coca, . . . [it] is described as having been the exclusive
prerogative of the Sun, a reflection of the great religious importance of
the crop."[10] In both cases, these quotes appear to place a great
deal of value on coca. In fact, Mortimer's entire book is dedicated to the
plant. Still, his study is more ethnocentric and less scholarly than we
might hope, and the age of the book limits its use as a source of substantial,
proven evidence. Netherly, while she does attribute some status to coca,
uses it only as a small part of a greater argument about research methodology,
and does not support her claims at any length.
As such, researchers need to regard coca as far more than a simple economic
or even ritual good. In fact, it was a vital part of the adhesive which
helped to create and bind together complex societies in the early Andes.
According to ethnographer Catherine Allen Wagner, today "[c]oca is
[still] chewed all over the Andes. Even its most routine uses are everywhere
hedged about with ceremony."[11] Anthropologist Joseph W. Bastien similarly
notes that "[g]reetings and all activities are initiated with an exchange
of coca, and contracts are sealed with it. Indians work for coca; its currency
value is more stable than any Andean country's money."[12] This importance
is not a modern invention. If anything, the widespread cultural value of
coca has lessened with centuries of European cultural domination and with
the advent of modern medicines to alleviate high altitude stress.
As these quotes have shown, writers tend to note coca's importance in passing,
but fail to recognize it as a basic social unifier. In these cases, as in
those that follow, the writers understate how integral coca may have been.
Though they realize how important coca is today, scholars have not yet more
completely detailed its longstanding value in Andean society. The sheer
weight of evidence points to a much larger role than scholars have previously
elucidated. From little pieces of evidence from a wide variety of sources,
we can see that writers and researchers have not yet seen coca in its total
spectrum of uses and values.
Some researchers have at least tacitly subscribed to a mainly physiological
explanation for coca use. According to this model, coca's benefits as an
agent of stress relief were the catalyst for its acceptance and use. This
model is simply inadequate. If coca were valued mainly for its physical
properties, then it would have been more accepted in the European community.
Historian Noble David Cook, for instance, treats coca as if the extent of
its value were purely physiological and economic. He suggests that coca
use only became popular to lessen fatigue, and (quite incorrectly) that
Indians became addicted to the leaf.[13] Certainly, though, they went to
great lengths to obtain it. As Juan de Matienzo wrote, "Coca is the
money of the Indians of this land, as cacao is in New Spain."[14]
Karen Spalding mentions that coca was extremely important to Andeans, but
that "[c]oca, highly valued in the south [of Peru], does not seem to
have found such a ready market in Lima, a center of European rather than
Andean population."[15] This fact clearly shows that coca was a fundamental
part of Andean life, not just life in the Andes. Coca had a tradition and
status in Andean society beyond its value as a medicinal plant. Even though
Europeans were living in the same environment as native Andeans, coca was
not a major part of European society. In fact, as we shall see, coca was
heavily frowned upon by European authorities, who tolerated it mainly for
its economic value. Spalding addresses coca briefly, but never places strong
emphasis on the leaf, perhaps partly because of her interest in social relations
between Indians and Spaniards, not within indigenous Andean populations.
As an integral factor in Andean cosmology, coca played an enduring part
in Andean ritual. Ritual, loosely defined, is a social activity designed
to strengthen community bonds, or "a drama designed to produce a change
in the condition of the subject."[16] A number of rituals in the Andes
relied upon coca as a vehicle of veneration, and a few even centered around
it. For example, Andean cultures taught, as Spalding has shown, that "the
ancestors had to be fed, honored, and propitiated with offerings of chicha
and coca, for their good will ensured good harvests and the increase of
the llama herds, just as their ill will could bring illness and death."[17]
Similarly, Wagner wrote that "[s]tructurally, coca provides a link
between . . . the human and the sacred . . . [T]his makes coca a crucial
cultural focus, and loads its uses with symbolic significance."[18]
Of course, ritual use implies more than just a display of faith, since it
integrated religious beliefs with social realities. Obviously, many communities
could not cultivate coca due to their location at high altitudes, and because
it was vital to Andean ritual beliefs, they were forced to make links with
other groups to obtain it. The potential for social growth is readily available
in such a situation, where it is possible to obtain a virtual monopoly on
production, thereby gaining control of an important good and, by extension,
a degree of control over those who need it.
By the Late Horizon, these links between polities were well established
and exploited by the Inca, for whom coca was a basic good of social control.
In Inca rituals, "enormous amounts of cloth, coca, foodstuffs, llamas,
and even young men and women were offered to the wak'as regarded as crucial
to the continued success of the Inca armies and the prosperity of the state,"
according to Spalding.[19] The Inca controlled production and distribution
of coca, and so those groups who subscribed to coca's cosmological importance
were beholden to the Inca. There is little doubt that many Andean peoples
circumvented this regulation, whether through outright dissent, or simply
through chewing the remaining coca after royal tributes had been paid. Nonetheless,
the Inca exercised a fair degree of control over coca prodution and consumption.
For instance, Murra relates that "[a]t Citua time" in the Inca
empire, "when illness was driven away by washing it down the river,
the priests threw into the water eviscerated llamas, much cloth of all colors,
coca leaf and flowers."[20] Coca, though, had been important in Andean
life for millennia before the rise of the Inca.
The early Spanish observer Francisco de Toledo related a myth of coca's
origin as follows:
Cocamama was first a beautiful woman whose body was evil so they killed
her, dividing her
in two. From these halves a tree was born, named Cocamama. Anyone eating
these leaves,
eats her. We carry her in a bag, which we cannot open until we have had
intercourse with a
woman in memory of her. This tree has many branches, so we call it coca.[21]
As Joseph W. Bastien notes, "Cocamama is Mother Coca, also referred
to as Mother Earth."[22] We see that the myth intertwines coca's vast
social importance with the beginning of the earth, perhaps as blatant an
indication of just how much value Andean societies placed on coca as we
might expect to find. Still, modern writers have tended to undervalue coca's
place, relegating it to the status of a single-function good.
Also, before 1532 the cult of Pachacamac was fairly influential and "the
first leaves of the coca harvest from [the Rimac Valley] were brought to
Pachacamac before the coca was chewed by the members of the community."[23]
Another example of coca's ritual use is one in which Michael Moseley discusses
"widespread veneration of Pacha Mama [under the Inca], who was offered
coca leaf, chicha beer, and appropriate prayer and ritual on all major agricultural
occasions by all who till the earth."[24] The discussion of chicha
is an important one in understanding coca's place in Andean life. Chicha,
an alcoholic beverage made from maize, was used in many Andean ceremonies,
often in conjunction with coca. Though the two are often listed together
as ritual items, the distinction between them is important. For instance,
consider the feast of Pariacaca in Huarochirí. There, coca was used
as a ritual offering before and during Inca times.[25] In its utilization,
though, coca seems to have been used more formally than chicha. Whereas
chicha was used liberally for ritual drunkenness in many different rituals,
coca seems to have been used almost exclusively as a formal offering.
This is perhaps a dichotomy worthy of note. Though both were used on a regular
basis by many Andeans, their ritual uses seem to have been quite different.
While average citizens participated in the (often heavy) drinking of chicha
in rituals, no records list coca chewing as an analogous function in ritual.
Rather, coca seems to have been used more as a solemn and occasional offering
than as a continued sacrament during rituals. Though both were associated
with rituals, people routinely drank chicha to excess, while moderating
their use of coca. As Gary Urton shows from modern ethnography, for example,
while both male and female workers, at least in Misminay, carry jugs of
chicha with them and drink it regularly, they only occasionally chew coca
and even then the women refrain.
According to Urton, "[a] woman in Misminay once carefully explained
to me that coca was an 'invention' originally intended for men, not women."[26]
Bastien notes an instance of women chewing coca, but he is careful to ascribe
a solemnity to the ceremony, which the Andeans considered more serious than
others involving alcohol and not coca.[27] The chronicler Bernabé
Cobo, in a section of his Historia del Nuevo Mundo dedicated to indigenous
"housing, clothing, and sustenance," wrote at length about chicha,
noting that
The Indians . . . never celebrate an event, whether joyful or sad, in any
way other than by
dancing and drinking to excess; thus, for them the funeral and burial of
their parents and
relatives is just as festive an occasion as the birth and weddings of their
children, for in both
cases the principal activity is to drink until they cannot stand up.[28]
Again, we see chicha used far more liberally than coca, which Cobo does
not even mention in this section. While chicha also alleviates the rigors
of high altitude life to an extent, it appears to have been much more widely
available and used than coca. Chicha, which can be produced locally in a
far greater latitude than coca, was used less formally than the more restricted
coca. Thus, while chicha was not an agent of Andean social control, coca
almost certainly was. Perhaps because it was more difficult to obtain, coca
gained an extra-ordinary value as a ritual good. At any rate, it is clear
that coca played a more fundamental, if not more vital role, in the growth
of Andean sociopolitical integration than chicha.
In all, these ritual uses point to the clear importance of coca within Andean
cosmology. Polities subscribing to coca's attributes, then, were able to
use it to maintain their legitimacy and authority by manipulating its access.
Likewise, polities which began with simple organizational structures may
have become more complex in the search for and use of coca as an economic,
social, and religious good. Now, having discussed coca's place in Andean
cosmology it is necessary to assess how coca's theoretical importance played
itself out physically. Though the archaeological record is fairly sparse
as yet in its information about coca's role in Andean socioeconomic integration,
some interesting data exist linking it to growth in social organization.
Perhaps the most obvious and readily accessible form of recognition of coca's
importance in Andean life is in its iconographic representation. As concrete
examples, consider the following five pieces, from different periods and
places in the Andes, each bearing an intimate link to coca. First, consider
an artifact that Netherly describes as a "Chimú-Inca face jar"
depicting a man with a large coca quid in his cheek.[29] She feels that
"[t]he peculiarities [of the jar] may have been the fruit of a passive
resistance," an interesting theory which nods in part to coca's social
function. The quality of the jar and its lack of status-distinguishing markers
(i.e., ear spools, etc.) point toward the interpretation that "this
individual represents a local personage."[30] The mere fact that the
person is depicted on a jar at all probably means that he was of some local
importance, and thus it is particularly relevant that he is associated with
coca. It is possible that the coca quid is merely an indicator of the prevalence
of coca chewing, but a more likely explanation is that the coca delineated
a modicum of status in itself.
Another archaeological example is a Moche portrait vase of a one-eyed man
chewing a wad of coca, found at Chepén. As Netherly says, "coca
and coca chewing are frequent themes in Moche iconography usually in religious
contexts, indicating the importance of coca to this North Coast civilization."[31]
The fact that representations of coca would be included on a high quality
portrait vase is perhaps indicative of coca's more ritual uses rather than
its mundane ones. Moreover, the fact that this vase is from the Moche is
a reminder of the long-standing place of coca in Andean society and history.
Netherly notes that "[i]n Moche iconography such individuals"
as the one-eyed man chewing coca "seem often to have fulfilled ritual
functions, perhaps as shamans."[32] Again, coca is linked not only
with people of status, but with religious importance. It is fairly clear
by now that coca is bound together with a vast range of Andean systems,
from religious to social to economic.
Michael Moseley shows another example of Moche coca iconography in ceramic,
this one a painting from a pot depicting a scene in which people are chewing
coca "with lime kept in small gourd vessels."[33] Coca use with
lime is referred to occasionally throughout ethnohistoric accounts as well,
and a few implements have been found which would seem to have been paraphernalia
for such a process. The lime facilitates the slow release of the cocaine
in the coca, and is in limited use even today.
According to Moseley, it was "kept in small gourd vessels, . . . [and]
removed with a thin spatula."[34] As Noble David Cook detailed, the
leaves are often chewed with "llipta, a mixture of ground bone, ash,
and lime."[35] Clearly, not every person who chewed coca combined it
with llipta, so it is possible, then, that the paraphernalia were prestige
goods, markers of status among local elites and others.
Similarly, but on a much larger scale, consider the stone statue known as
el coquero, at the modern-day El Tablon site near San Andrés de Pisimbalá,
Tierradentro, Colombia. As anthropologist Antonil describes it,
Though the head and limbs of the monolith have been completely destroyed,
it is still possible
to discern without any difficulty the representations of both coca pouch
and lime gourd
hanging on either side of the figure - at about the height of the hips,
as they are worn today.[36]
In the region, the statue is well known, and Antonil notes that the Paez
Indians still use coca bags and gourds strikingly similar in design and
pattern to those depicted on the statue. Thus, not only has the ritual lived
on, but it seems that the indigenous peoples even today fashion their accessories
to conform to ancient representations.
The final iconographic representation of our study is a figurine from the
Late Horizon. Instead of ceramic, this is a silver figurine of an Inca aristocrat
with "a large quid of coca in his left cheek."[37] This must certainly
indicate something about the status of coca chewing. If coca chewing were
merely a mundane adaptation to high altitude stress, it would seem unlikely
that it would be represented in a depiction of nobility. If it were simply
a ritual of the common man, then it would not have appeared in the context
of an Inca aristocrat. As before, Netherly notes that the figure is associated
with coca, but she fails to give relevance to the fact.
Overall, each of these works is of very fine quality, probably indicating
some level of societal complexity and at least part-time specialization
(quite probably full time under the Inca), and they are strongly tied to
the societal importance of coca. The fact that artisans, who were fairly
rigidly controlled by the Inca (as well as some earlier groups), were instructed
to include representations of coca in their depictions indicates that coca's
value was recognized as well as exploited even at the time. The fact is,
though, that contemporary writers all too often fail to ascribe to coca
its true place in the system of Andean cosmology. Even though the scholars
detailed above all note the physical evidence for coca's importance, they
do not detail the nature in which it infused Andean life. While they all
show parts of the evidence supporting coca's vast value, they do not link
that evidence together in a substantive way.
Other archaeological evidence for coca's place in Andean society is not
always so clear. For example, Craig Morris' findings at Huánuco Pampa
point toward a somewhat obscured place for coca. He found storage for coca
in this huge region of quollqa storehouses and proposed that the site may
have been a center of regional state-sponsored hospitality, possibly even
a capital of one of the quarters of Tawantinsuyu.[38] If this were so, then
coca use may have played a role in the regional as well as supra-regional
integration of Huánuco Pampa. If Huánuco Pampa were a quarter
center of the empire, then the presence of coca distribution centers there
is all the more important in proving coca's value as a pillar of the complex
structure of Inca society.
W. Golden Mortimer offers a more concrete archaeological example of coca's
Andean importance in his description of burials. He records burials in which
the body was wrapped heavily in cloth and "[o]n the shoulders, breast
and back there are commonly a number of little pouches fastened together,
filled with Coca leaves, while strings of such bags are often found in the
tombs."[39] Mortimer also cites Cieza, who noted the same burial customs
centuries earlier.[40] In cultures which obviously place a great deal of
importance on burial rites, as do most Andean societies, such information
would logically indicate a prominent place for coca in the ritual scheme
even and perhaps especially after death. The fact that the bodies were wrapped
in great amounts of cloth, which in itself held such inherent value to most
Andean societies, points toward the interpretation that the deceased was
a personage of some status, and therefore the presence of large amounts
of coca as burial goods again suggests a great deal of ritual value placed
on coca.
Another bit of archaeological evidence concerns three Inca coca fields at
Collambay walled with tapia, an interesting fact because, as Netherly writes
"tapia walls around fields are not common outside Chan Chan."
The anomaly is worthy of note especially in its association with coca production
Netherly hypothesizes that in addition to the reason given in the historic
period that the walls were built to "prevent the foxes from entering
and urinating on the coca, perhaps a desecration," the Inca may have
ordered the walls erected as a show of Inca might. "Walling the fields
was a means of displaying the Inca presence in a hostile, coastal zone.
This seems to be the best explanation for bringing workmen from so far away
as Túcume to build the wall."[41] As Netherly notes, Túcume
aligned itself with the Chimú, and so the forced work may have been
a sort of punishment combined with the Inca resettlement policy for hostile
groups, commonly known as mitmaqkuna.
As an example of ongoing debate considering, at least peripherally, coca's
role, consider the case of Huancayo Alto, a site in the chaupi yunga of
the Chillón Valley. Ethnohistorian María Rostworowski de Diez
Canseco notes that Dillehay found coca leaves in the excavations at Huancayo
Alto dating to the Late Intermediate/ Late Horizon.[42] As Rostworowski
shows, Huancayo Alto was under the influence of the Inca during this period,
perhaps an important note in its relation to coca production, storage, and
distribution. She relates that locally produced "Inca[-style] ceramics
were recovered in three areas: (1) the administrative sector, (2) the drying
terraces, and (3) the storage units nearest the drying terraces."[43]
In referring to "the drying terraces," she is citing a series
of terraces at the site, of as yet undetermined use. Though Rostworowski
seems convinced that they were used to dry coca for preservation and storage,
Spalding is not so positive of the function of the features. While she says
that the terraces "may well have been drying platforms for coca,"
she also proposes other uses, mainly ritual, for them.[44] Similarly, Jeffrey
R. Parsons and Charles M. Hastings note that the terraces "may have
functioned for drying coca,"[45] but that their use is still not completely
known. Thus we see that even the precise nature of the terraces is in contention.
If they were used for drying, it would by extension suggest that Huancayo
Alto was perhaps a center of distribution of the leaf, a relatively important
position for a settlement to hold within the tiered Inca hierarchy.
Aside from the debate over the exact use of the terraces, Parsons and Hastings
also argue against Dillehay, who asserted that Huancayo Alto was not an
influential site in the region. On the contrary, Parsons and Hastings believe
that the evidence indicates that the site was important in the Chillón,
perhaps especially during the Late Intermediate. They feel that Huancayo
Alto's
key features . . . are suggestive of a rather complex organization through
which goods such as
coca and camelid products were stored, processed, and redistributed throughout
the valley
from this strategic locus.[46]
This alludes to coca's value as an item for distribution, which implies
a formal system of channeling resources, most likely from above. It also
acknowledges that people wanted coca and therefore the potential for growth
in social organization through access to coca.
In sum total, these data from Huancayo Alto point to the interpretation
that coca almost certainly played a role in the social, if not economic
structure of the region. Now consider a bit of ethnohistoric evidence to
support such an interpretation of the site, and it will become clearer just
how important coca might have been. In doing so, however, we must note that
ethnography is no better a tool for learning about the past than archaeology,
if no worse. For instance, Parsons and Hastings disagree with Dillehay,
whose conclusions were based on ethnohistoric evidence. Dillehay's ethnohistoric
basis would seem to contradict the archaeological record to which Parsons
and Hastings choose to subscribe. Dillehay seems to have given precedence
to the ethnohistoric data, but the debate is still open.
Ethnohistorically, Netherly discusses the coca grown at Huancayo Alto, particularly
in terms of the evidence offered from tribute records. While she makes no
claims about the site's status in the valley at large, she does describe
the great importance placed on coca within the site under Inca rule. "The
waranqa of Huancayo," in addition to supplying the rather large amounts
of coca demanded by the Inca state, "also cultivated a small garden
of coca which was harvested and taken fresh as an offering for the cult
of the Sun."[47] As before, the correlation between coca and ritual,
as well as between coca and status, is an issue. This piece of information,
combined with the coca found in the storage structures at the site, suggests
the interpretation that the coca was a factor in the regional integration
of the site. If coca were a product for valley-wide distribution, as Parsons
and Hastings hypothesize, then its role in sociopolitical integration becomes
even more influential.
In a tribute record for a different area, Murra lists among the items recorded
on a khipu "5 small reed boxes of coca leaf." At the same time,
he details an Andean ritual in which that coca was used to venerate the
Sun.[48] Again, the relationship of coca to tribute and ritual is suggestive
of the integration of different peoples. If the conquering polities maintained
a local interest in coca and controlled its production and use, it could
also theoretically control relations within the group, as well as between
the group and others.
Netherly, in her own discussion involving tribute records, also talks of
the fact that the coca fields were worked by mitmaqkuna.[49] This is an
important datum in that in addition to defining the groups who provided
the means of production, it recognizes that not all mitmaqkuna were hostile
to the Inca. In fact, many authors mention that the Inca used friendly mitmaqkuna
to cultivate coca, both as a deterrent to hostile groups and as keepers
of the Inca trust in the vitally important coca crop. For instance, Spalding
notes that the highland people of Huarochirí "sent mitmaq to
cultivate coca and other lowland crops in Quives, in the Chillón
Valley three rivers to the north."[50]
The potential here for social integration is fairly obvious. The settlers
from Huarochirí would almost necessarily have had contact with the
people living in the Chillón, contingent upon population density
data for the valley. Archaeologist Terence D'Altroy also notes that "[t]hese
colonists were . . . widely employed to produce specialized agricultural
goods, such as maize, coca, and peppers."[51] Again, coca's position
as a specialized good gave it a particularly powerful role in societal organization.
As a "specialty crop,"[52] coca may even have been afforded entire
settlements of attached specialists especially for its production, to an
even greater extent than may have been the case at Huánuco Pampa
or Huancayo Alto.
At any rate, the idea of friendly groups as settler mitmaqkuna offers the
potential for being a major social, as well as possibly economic, unifier.
Mortimer discusses the same phenomenon in general terms of required labor
turns and coca production throughout the Andes,[53] and Murra, too, relates
that mitmaqkuna were not always hostile polities, and that friendly groups
were often used to grow important crops like coca and maize.[54]
In other ethnographic evidence, Mortimer makes the interesting point that
in studying burials that "though Coca is not to-day commonly used by
the Indians on the coast, these graves all contain Coca among their relics."[55]
This suggests important economic and social pre-Hispanic links between the
coast and other regions, links which were facilitated at least in part by
coca. The fact that contemporary peoples did not chew coca seems to indicate
that those Andean intergroup links were no longer as important by the beginning
of the twentieth century as they were before European conquest.
As before, we see that coca worked as a particularly Andean unifier. For
the Europeans, coca was merely a plant, but for Andean peoples it was far
more important than mere flora. Interestingly, Cobo makes almost no note
whatsoever about coca, though the archaeological and other ethnohistoric
records show clearly that coca was still in use by the time he came to Peru.
Before contact with the Old World, Andean peoples had used coca to facilitate
social relations. Marriages and alliances were arranged across ecological
zones, unions were formed, and societies grew more complex, in part because
of the use and exchange of coca.
For the purposes of this study, these social links are the crux of the matter,
particularly as they relate so strongly to coca's growth and consumption.
In her study, Netherly shows that
The similarity of the patterns [of domination] reported from Quivi and Collambay
suggests a
highly consistent Inca policy toward a particular ecozone, . . . the coca-producing
chaupiyunga,
because of the ritual and political significance of the coca crop. This
uniformity in policy can
be contrasted with the variable Inca treatment of the defeated valley states
of the North, Central, and South Coast regions.[56]
That is to say that coca, in particular, was a line-item on the agenda of
the Inca empire. Surely the Inca were not the first to try to gain control
over coca, and so we can infer that other polities, as far back as the Mochica
and beyond, also had interests in coca for its importance in the lives of
the common people.
In a related manner, Murra also explains that groups often made and maintained
links with other vertical zones, in a process somewhat similar to that of
mitmaq, where puna peoples would exchange products of their region (i.e.,
charqui and quinoa) for lowland products like coca.[57] Again, we see a
scholar addressing the issue of coca's importance on almost purely economic
terms, and ignoring its greater context as a sort of social glue. If Murra
notes it, he does so only in passing.
Parsons and Hastings point to persistent patterns of inter-zonal trade in
coca and maize even in the Colonial period as a facet of the desire for
coca control. They cite Chinchaycocha tribute records published by Rostworowski
which detail requirements of coca leaves as tribute even from polities where
coca could not be grown.[58] Thus, in order to provide the leaves for tribute,
the polities would have to arrange their own trade relationships even under
the umbrella of Spanish domination. Indicative of a vertically-oriented
economy, this tribute requirement was in all likelihood a carryover from
pre-Hispanic times, as were many other European tribute demands.
Just as the tribute record shows that coca was ingrained in the Andean worldview,
so too does the record of religious struggle. As Catherine J. Allen illustrates,
"[m]issionaries quickly recognized coca's importance to indigenous
religion and called for its extermination. By 1551 coca had been condemned
by the first ecclesiastical council in Lima."[59] Further, she argues
that "coca use came to signify indianness" in the face of European
oppression,[60] and so indigenous peoples found a further ground to attach
social importance to coca even after indigenous social structures were dismantled
by the Spanish. As we have seen several times, coca use was a particularly
Andean, and not European, trait. In addition to its physiological uses,
it had profound and deep social meanings for Andeans that were lost on Europeans.
Consider the evidence offered by Mortimer. He refers to the chronicler Cieza,
who tells of Inca Mayta Capac, the fourth Inca. The Inca's queen was distinguished
by being given the title of "Mama Coca," which was
the most sacred title which could be bestowed upon her. From so exalted
a consideration of
the plant by royal favor, it was but a natural sequence that the mass of
people should regard
Coca as an object for adoration worthy to be deemed 'divine.'[61]
Thus, Mortimer argued that coca's importance to the ruling class translated
into reverence from the general public. In all probability, the importance
placed on coca was actually derived from a long tradition of believing coca
to be a vital part of everyday spiritual life in the Andes, as opposed to
a newly-instituted Inca declaration. Nonetheless, his point is valid in
delineating the royal Andean importance of coca, and we can hardly imagine
Spaniards taking such distinctions seriously as legitimate honors to their
own rulers.
Like other authors, Mortimer emphasizes the role coca played in gift giving,
particularly from royal Inca to royal Inca. As we might infer, the importance
placed on coca by policy makers generally has an impact on the role it played
in the lives of the general populace. If the rulers attached great pomp
and circumstance to the exchange of coca, it likely had the net effect of
raising the status afforded by coca even higher. These Inca "grants"
were important in maintenance of the state, and were used as socio-economic
integrators.
Murra explains Inca grants as having begun "as part of an institutionalized
'generosity' [dealing] usually in ceremonial and semi-economic goods like
cloth or coca leaf."[62] Spalding details in her study the same type
of state-sponsored hospitality in describing the role of a kuraka in providing
gifts of coca and other goods to those of high status.[63] Murra, too, tells
of a rigid social obligation of high-status Inca in providing important
ritual goods such as coca to those from whom he asked favors.[64]
Along with giving coca, the Inca often took it, not only in the form of
tribute. Sometimes, the Inca annexed the means of production in the form
of land expropriations. T'upa Inca Yupanqui, for example, took coca fields
from Quives to expand royal coca-producing lands. Likewise, Huayna Capac
also took fields to expand royal coca lands.[65] These expropriations are
important because they were often worked by mitmaqkuna, which not only furthered
state goals in the production of coca, but reinforced coca's pervasive societal
value.
This ethnohistoric evidence, when combined with the archaeological record
and the knowledge of coca's importance on Andean cosmology, proves rather
conclusively that coca played a much more important role in Andean history
than that for which most writers and researchers seem to give it credit.
Undoubtedly, more research needs to be carried out to determine exactly
how vital coca was in Andean life and integration. Still, though Murra suggests
that "[i]n Inca times this bush was grown primarily for religious purposes,"[66]
it is clear that coca had a much more fundamental impact on Andean culture
than this simple categorization would imply.
Generally, writers use complimentary but often all too vague terminology
to describe the role that coca played (and continues to play, to an extent)
in Andean life. They label it in one specific category and leave its interpretation
there, examining coca only in terms of its economic or physiological values
in the region. Few scholars, though, have analyzed the sometimes overt and
sometimes subtle ways in which coca was used to influence and maintain complex
sociopolitical structures in the Andes.
Of the evidence presented here, the two scholars who attribute the most
value to coca are Allen and Bastien, both of whom are ethnographers dealing
with modern-day Andean peoples, not those in the precolombian or Colonial
periods. Scholars tend to grant coca a more marginal position when considering
earlier periods. It is clear, though, that coca was in actual point of fact
more important in Andean life before the modern era. As a social unifier,
an economic tool, and a cosmological icon, it enjoyed far greater respect
and power before European thought and practice came to dominate the New
World. Scholars, whether from the discipline of history or anthropology,
ethnohistory or archaeology, need to make an effort to more fully recognize
and acknowledge the fact that coca exhibited far greater influence on a
greater breath of society than previously elucidated.
Certainly, the body of evidence supporting the prevalence of coca is growing.
Molina, Torres, Belmonte, and Santoro have discovered coca leaves in the
Arica valleys in northern Chile dating back to Tiwanaku times. Moreover,
they detail the preliminary findings of Cartmell et al., who have determined
through analysis of "stable metabolic products of cocaine (BZE)"
that precolumbian populations in the Camarones River Outlet chewed coca.[67]
This is important not only because it demonstrates how our own increasing
technology can help to prove how important coca was, but also because it
offers concrete physical evidence to complement historical data and interpretations.
In any event, it is clear that coca was a vital factor in the process of
growth of complexity in the Andes, both in pre-Hispanic and post-contact
times. It played a basic and important role in Andean cosmology, as an item
of religious significance as well in its capacity as an agent of high-altitude
stress relief. Still, coca was not limited to its ideological uses. It fit
into systems of local and imperial economies, and it facilitated sociopolitical
growth.
At this point, the lack of a major synthesis of the evidence for coca's
importance is sorely lacking in modern scholarship. There is no single culprit
toward whom to point the blame, since scholarship in general has neglected
this part of Andean life and history. Now, however, we must look toward
rectifying the problem if we wish to better understand Andean interpersonal
and sociopolitical modes of interaction. As Zarate wrote, Andean peoples
"esteem [coca] more than gold or silver," and if it is not true
that "the virtue of this herb, found by experience, is that any man
having these leaves in his mouth hath never hunger nor thirst," it
is nonetheless certainly true that it aided in the growth of empires in
the Andes.
Footnotes
1 Quoted in Mortimer [1901], 1978:p. 158.
2 Rostworowski 1988:p. 6.
3 ibid.
4 Allen 1988:p. 221. Allen is also cited here as Catherine Allen Wagner.
5 Netherly 1988:p. 263.
6 Rostworowski 1988:p. 2.
7 Moseley 1992:p. 96; Rostworowski 1988:p. 6
8 Netherly 1988:p. 262.
9 Mortimer [1901] 1978:p. 20.
10 Netherly 1988:p. 264.
11 Wagner 1978:p. 150.
12 Bastien 1978:p. 19.
13 Cook 1981:p. 223.
14 Quoted in Cook 1981:p. 223.
15 Spalding 1984:p. 170-1.
16 Spalding 1984:p. 61.
17 ibid.
18 Wagner 1978:p. 150.
19 Spalding 1984:p. 96.
20 Murra 1980:p. 78.
21 Toledo [1570?] 1882:p. 197-98.
22 Bastien 1978:p. 19.
23 Burger 1988:p. 115.
24 Moseley 1992:p. 55.
25 Spalding 1984:p. 68-9.
26 Urton 1981:p. 19.
27 Bastien 1978:p. 112.
28 Cobo [1653] 1979:p. 28.
29 Netherly 1988:p. 273.
30 ibid.
31 Netherly 1988:p. 272.
32 ibid., from personal communication with E.P. Benson.
33 Moseley 1992:p. 43.
34 ibid.
35 Cook 1981:p. 223.
36 Antonil 1978:pp. 41, 44, 47.
37 Netherly 1988:p. 268.
38 Morris and Thompson 1985:Chapter 5; see also Spalding 1984:p. 91.
39 Mortimer [1901] 1978:p. 82.
40 Mortimer [1901] 1978:p. 160.
41 Netherly 1988:p. 271-5.
42 Rostworowski 1988:p. 8.
43 Rostworowski 1988:p. 23.
44 Spalding 1984:p. 100.
45 Parsons and Hastings 1988:p. 22.
46 ibid.
47 Netherly 1988:p. 269; Rostworowski 1988:p. 27 also quotes this tribute
list.
48 Murra 1982:p. 252-3.
49 Netherly 1988:p. 269.
50 Spalding 1984:p. 37.
51 D'Altroy 1992:p. 178.
52 D'Altroy 1992:p. 195.
53 Mortimer [1901] 1978:p. 36.
54 Murra 1980:p. 144, 175, 177.
55 Mortimer [1901] 1978:p. 80.
56 Netherly 1988:p. 275.
57 Murra 1982:p. 49.
58 Parsons and Hastings 1988:p. 214.
59 Allen 1988:p. 220.
60 Allen 1988:p. 221.
61 Mortimer [1901] 1978:p. 152.
62 Murra 1980:p. 153.
63 Spalding 1984:p. 55.
64 Murra 1980:p. 90.
65 Spalding 1984:p. 81, 104.
66 Murra 1980:p. 91.
67 "productos metabólicos estables de la cocaína (BZE)."
Molina, et al. 1989:p. 47. My translation.
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All contents of this document are Copyright © 1995, Jeffrey Voris.
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