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Félix A. Acuto
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This document analyzes the expansion of the Inka Empire, examining motivations and strategies used. It also explores how the Inca justified their domination.
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EXPANSION AND THE LEGITIMIZATION OF INKA DOMINATION Félix A. Acuto Five topics have drawn the attention of students of ancient states and empires: 1. How and why ancient states emerged; 2. Why they expanded to oth...
EXPANSION AND THE LEGITIMIZATION OF INKA DOMINATION Félix A. Acuto Five topics have drawn the attention of students of ancient states and empires: 1. How and why ancient states emerged; 2. Why they expanded to other territories; 3. What strategies they deployed to conquer and occupy different lands and to control their subjects; 4. How domination was justified and legitimized; and 5. Why states and empires collapsed. In this chapter, I discuss some of these questions, analyzing, first, what motivated the Inkas to go beyond the cradle of their civilization in the Cusco Valley to conquer and colonize a variety of regions and peoples, and second, how a relatively small polity from the south-central Peruvian highlands, one among many others, managed to expand its territory once and again to become the largest pre-Hispanic empire and one of the largest ancient empires of the world. To examine this, it is paramount to explore what strategies the Inkas used to subjugate, control, organize, and administer different peoples and lands, but especially, and considering that no ancient empire was able to sustain its domination based solely on the use of force and repression, we need to understand how the Inkas convinced the colonized that their ruling was legitimate. Conventional Visions of Inka Imperialism There have been different and interesting explanations about Inka imperialism. For some scholars, securing the wellbeing of their lands and population was one of the main driven forces of Inka expansionism. All seems to have begun, at least according to Inka history, with the war against the Chankas. During the early fifteenth century, the Inkas were an emergent political organization struggling for power and lands in the south-central Andes of Peru (cf. chapter by S. Ramírez). Other polities in the area, some of which were larger and more complex than the Inkas, became hard competitors for the early Inkas, among them the Chankas from the neighboring Andahuaylas (pronounced as Andawailasu) region, who seriously threatened to absorb Inka lands and people into their political-territorial organization. The Inkas managed to defeat the Chankas in a war that became a foundational event in Inka history. This put them in an advantageous position to negotiate with the other polities of the area, or, if alliances failed, to advance over their lands. History tells that once the Inkas consolidated their control over Cusco and neighboring regions, they had no chance but to confront the powerful, and menacing, Kolla (pronounced as Koya), Lupaca, and Pacaje kingdoms of the Lake Titicaca Basin. The Inkas again managed to defeat these three kingdoms, occupying their lands, forcing them to abandon their fortified towns, moving them to accessible locations on the shores of the lake, and reorganizing politics and labor in the area. These bold actions catapulted the Inkas to a dominant position in the south-central Andes. New threats to Inka power would eventually arise from other regions and groups, threats to which the Inkas – now with a large and well-organized army – would respond in the same way: by striking the first blow, defeating these groups, and expanding the borders of the empire. Considering Inkas’ strength, other groups and political organizations, however, sought to avoid military confrontation and anticipated Inkas advances by offering their servitude to Tawantinsuyu. A series of fortresses placed along the eastern frontier of Tawantinsuyu, oriented to contain the advances of indomitable Amazonian and other lowland groups (see the chapter by I. Schjellerup), confirms that security was a major concern for the Inkas and that, conquering new lands to neutralize potentially menacing competitors, seems to have been a logical reason for Inka expansion. This was what Huayna (pronounced as Waina) Capac, one of the last Inka emperors, was doing in the northern edge of Tawantinsuyu against the Pastos, Cayambes, Caranquis and other indigenous groups from what is today Ecuador, when a foreign pathogen, apparently smallpox, that arrived in the region before their Spanish carriers, surprised and killed him, leaving the empire in a state of turmoil due to the war between two candidates to the Inka throne. Some years ago, Geoffrey W. Conrad and Arthur A. Demarest argued that Tawantinsuyu expansion was linked with royal politics of succession based on a system known as split inheritance. Becoming emperor of Tawantinsuyu was not an easy process. Inka emperors had different wives and many children, so when an emperor died, there were more than one candidate ready to be appointed or claim to be the head of the realm, Sapa Inka. With the active support of their mothers’ families, which were usually linked with previous emperors, the contenders to the Inka throne used politics and military power to prevail over the rest of the candidates and to become the new Sapa Inka. But royal succession in the Inka Empire came with a trick. The new emperor assumed his position empty-handed. His father’s possessions -lands, servants, royal estates palaces, and other resources- were kept by his royal family, or panaca, whose principal role was to conduct festivities and rituals in honor of the late emperor, and to feed and protect his mummified body. Without possessions and a family network of his own, the new emperor had to establish his own panaca, to obtain lands and other resources, as well as retainers, and to build his palaces if he wanted to sustain his position and build power. Insofar as Inka history moved forward, the new emperors found that the lands and people in the Cusco area, or nearby, were already taken by previous rulers, possessions that still belonged to their mummies. The new Sapa Inka had, therefore, to look for lands, resources, labor, and subjects that would pay tribute to him and his royal lineage in more distant regions. The split inheritance system then forced each Inka ruler to put their eyes on unconquered territories and peoples, expanding the limits of Tawantinsuyu. For those who understand social dynamics from a functionalist and cost/benefit standpoint, some sort of inertia seems to have been the reason for Tawantinsuyu’s growth and development. As I just explained, when the Inkas were just another polity in the Cusco region contending with other groups, some of which were even more powerful than them, they ought to defend themselves first, as they did to face the advances of the Chankas, and subjugate their competitors second, if they wanted to survive and thrive. Nevertheless, keeping other territories and peoples under their rule was not easy for the early Inkas since it entailed a great expenditure of energy and resources. The incorporation of new lands and peoples into the Inka realm not only involved their military control, but also their management. Once the new additions to Tawantinsuyu were secured, the Inkas sent state functionaries to oversee their administration, the reorganization of labor, and the production and extraction of resources. Large administrative centers, storeroom complexes, an impressive road system supported by lodging stations, the improving and expansion of local agriculture systems, mining complexes, and productive enclaves that harbored full-time specialists manufacturing different material goods (e.g., ceramics and textiles) for the Inkas are some of the most relevant facilities that the Inkas constructed in every corner of Tawantinsuyu. But this was not all. Expenditures in diplomacy were also very important. The Inkas channeled to conquered territories a plethora of resources for rituals and feastings aimed to lubricate the relationships with local elites. With the incorporation of new lands, the Inkas became involved in a series of commitments that required the capture of more and more energy that could only be generated by conquering new lands. The ever-growing imperial machinery seems to have forced the Inkas to continually expand the frontiers of Tawantinsuyu and thus to find the resources needed to finance and consolidate their authority over already occupied lands. The preceding perspective centered on Tawantinsuyu’s economy have taken scholars to affirm that the Inkas established their settlements and infrastructure near key resources – either labor or material goods – needed to finance imperial projects, or in strategic positions that facilitated communication and circulation of resources, people, and the imperial army to different locations within the Empire. In other words, it has been understood that Inka provincial landscapes were primarily the product of Tawantinsuyu’s economic and logistical concerns, especially provisioning Cusco and bringing support to imperial projects throughout Tawantinsuyu, and secondarily the product of the interactions the Inkas maintained with local elites to keep peace and to secure the delivery of labor for the Inka mit’a system (cyclical labor tribute required of all able-bodied household heads; akin to the corvée labor required of a vassal by a feudal lord). Rethinking Inka Expansion I would like to offer here an alternative explanation about what drove the Inkas to advance over, settle, and control diverse regions in South America that takes account of the Andean worldviews or beliefs surrounding supernatural entities and forces that inhabit and animate their world. Indigenous peoples from the Andes considered that certain places in their territories, especially those that highlighted from the surrounding landscape and drew people’s attention due to their height, shape, or distinctive colors, were sacred. River intersections, waterfalls, springs, lakes, prominent mountains (especially those with permanent snowed summits and that could be seen from great distances), unusual boulders, caves, volcanoes, salt flats, among others, were considered holy landmarks, or wak’as, and worshiped. In addition to these noteworthy natural features, old ruins, temples, ancient tombs, and mortal remains were also recognized as animated sacred entities. The relevance of these places resided, however, not in their static oddity, but in the fact that they embodied territorial and historical relationships and processes; relationships and processes that gave motion to life. People believed that some of these remarkable locations were pacarinas, or the places where the mythical founding fathers of local communities emerged. Others were understood as tinkuy (places of merging and encounter – violent but productive – of forces, elements, times, and entities; centers where different social and symbolic spheres, both complementary and oppose, united and were mediated), taypi (axis mundi, central places of origin and diffusion), or as raki (places that expressed processes of separation and division and the sacrifice of the integrity of a previously existing unit) (see the Chapter by S. Kosiba). In addition, remarkable mountains were perceived as petrified ancestors or Apus. It is interesting to note that, even today, the names that Andean indigenous people give to some mountains, both in Quechua and Aymara languages, also mean grandfather or ancestor, procreator, or head of the family. However, these places were not just shrines. They were also vibrant forces that dwelled in the Andean territories alongside human communities. Indigenous peoples from the Andes believed (and still do) that they inhabited a fully animated landscape where different supernatural entities, with human-like characteristics, interacted, influenced on each other, and contributed to maintain the flow of the vital energy necessary to keep Andean territories in motion. As humans, these entities, including Earth Mother or Pachamama, one of the most important and overarching Andean wak’as, had personality, volition, changing moods, and the capacity to act and to exert their influence on other actors’ actions. They even had their own possessions, such as lands and livestock, and of course they had powers, such as the power to control water and the weather, to influence livestock and land fertility, and to impact on people’s health. They were also givers of protection and keepers of social order, and channels of communication with the supernatural levels. Due to their condition of owners and providers of the vital elements that human communities and families needed to guarantee their survival and reproduction, people of the Andes had to pay attention to the territorial supernatural beings, sometimes on a daily basis. Even though they brought many benefits, they could also be harmful when mistreated or neglected, or when people went through their lands or took resources (either firewood, clay, minerals, and the mud, rocks, straw, and wood logs people use to build their homes) without requesting their permission. To secure land productivity, livestock health and fertility, and human wellbeing, people had to treat non-human entities with respect, care, and affection, honoring them with rituals, prayers, and offerings. It was hence of great importance to maintain a reciprocal relationship with these entities: Give first in order to receive later. The potency and unpredictability of these beings made them very dangerous for humans, who avoided visiting their harsh territories or being too close to them. People of the Andes today assure that it is not rare to become ill when one takes wak’as’ resources or pass by their territories without requesting their permission. They swear that wak’as have swallowed those scatterbrained persons who dared going through their lands without permission. The riskiness that dealing with Andean non-human entities in their very territory entailed, took indigenous communities and families to elude going to their lands and to be in their proximity. Instead of visiting and honoring these powerful supernatural entities in their territories, people generally chose to keep a prudent distance, praising them at home and from safer places, summoning them to ceremonial events through the act of naming them, or using miniatures or objects that embodied these sacred beings, or that allowed the communication with them. I argue that the Inkas conquered, settled, and dominated different regions throughout the Andean highlands, the desertic Pacific coast, and even the tropical and subtropical forest of the eastern slopes of the Andes, also known as yungas, not because they were searching for new lands, resources, and labor to support their economic, political, and military activities and projects, or because they sought wealth to cover the expenses and conspicuous consumption of Inka nobility. Neither the Inkas embarked in some sort of holy crusade oriented to spread their religion and the cult of Inti, the Sun, their principal deity. Of course, the Inkas did need resources and labor to keep the imperial machinery functioning, especially to fulfill their political alliances with provincial elites, to support their own nobility and all those who worked for Tawantinsuyu, and to build and provision all their settlements and the road system. They also needed to neutralize opposite groups and bring security to their lands and subjects. Nonetheless, what motivated the Inkas to expand the frontiers of their empire and to append new lands to Tawantinsuyu once and again was none of this. The principal goal of the Inkas was: (1) to establish direct relationships with the supernatural, sacred beings that lived in the Andes (and even beyond), or at least with the majority of them; and (2) to control wak’as cult and to mediate the relation between these sacred places/beings and their local worshipers. The Inkas were more interested in connecting with the sacred than interacting with human communities. The relationships they established with these communities were a consequence of, and were determined by, the relationships Tawantinsuyu set up first with the different regional wak’as. They did not always achieve these goals, in some cases the Inkas were more successful than in others, but they always tried it. When wak’as were portable things, they took them to Cusco and placed them in the Temple of the Sun (Korikancha; FIGURE 1). However, when wak’as were impossible to transport to the capital of Tawantinsuyu, the Inkas traveled to their territories and took control over the pilgrimages and ritual activities oriented to them. This was the case, for instance, of the Sacred Rock of the Island of the Sun in Lake Titicaca. According to indigenous mythology, the ancient people of the Andes lived in a world of darkness, lit by the dim light of the moon, until Inti emerged to light up the world and transform life. The sun rose from a specific location: a large, elongated rock known as Titikala (FIGURE 2), a paramount taypi in Inka culture. Once the Inkas conquered the Titicaca Basin after defeating the powerful Aymara kingdoms of the region, they seized the Copacabana Peninsula, the Island of the Moon, and the Island of the Sun, transforming the region into one of the most notable and famous religious and pilgrimage landscape of the Andes. To accomplish this task, the Inkas emptied the region repopulating it with people from Cusco, destroyed all signs of Aymara occupation, and built their own sites, roads, and ritual facilities, including a ceremonial plaza right next to the rock. According to colonial documents, the Inkas even cloth Titikala with fine textile and placed gold and silver plates on it to reflect the sunlight. They carried out similar actions both in Raqchi, in the south Peruvian highlands, where a well-known sculpture of God Viracocha (the creator) was located, and in the religious center of Pachacamac, in the central Peruvian coast, a place visited by pilgrims from every region to consult a carved wooden idol, one of the most prestigious oracles of the Andes. The Inkas intervened on both places, transforming their architecture and building ritual structures – a gigantic temple in the case of Raqchi – in direct association with these animated, sacred elements. Regions as ecologically and culturally diverse as the high-altitude plateau, or puna, and the forested eastern slopes, beginning of the Amazonian lowlands, were subject of the same policies. For the indigenous communities of the Junín area in Peru, Lake Chinchaycocha was a holy place from where their mythical ancestors emerged to found local lineages and to set the rules and traditions of the Chinchaycocha ethnic group. The Inkas took notice of the importance and reputation of Lake Chinchaycocha and decided to build close to it, on shores of the Upamayo River, one of the principal tributaries of lake, an immense settlement of 79 ha with hundreds of structures, including ritual platforms and a large ceremonial plaza. It is interesting to note that the Inkas placed this site in an area poor in resources and away from native communities, demonstrating that their goal was not to control labor or to exploit and extract resources, but to establish a direct physical and spiritual connection with the sacred pacarina. Samaipata is a large carved rock saddle (300 meters long and 60 meters wide) located in the transition between the highlands and the great plains of the eastern Amazonian lowlands in eastern Bolivia. These kinds of places, tinkuy or meeting points of different elements and forces, were of great significance and power for indigenous peoples. Traditionally, local communities approached this boulder to carve different designs on its surface (FIGURE 3). The Inkas co-opted this place, sculpted the rock with their typical trapezoidal niches, a trademark of Inka architecture, and erected a ceremonial complex right next to it (FIGURE 4). If we traveled to the northern and southern ends of Tawantinsuyu, we would find the same situation. The Cañari people from Ecuador had in high esteem a rock stela located in connection with a collective ancestral tomb, the resting place of an important Cañari female priest and of at least ten other people, buried with rich offerings. Archaeological studies showed that the stela was decorated with red paint and had an astronomical orientation. Once again, the Inkas appropriated this sacred element, ensuring for themselves a direct relationship with it by surrounding the wak’a with Inka constructions, including plazas and a temple of the Sun. Since Inka intervention, the stela and the collective grave became secluded and access to them controlled. Indeed, the Inkas transformed and re-signified the place, that today is known as Ingapirca or walls of the Inka. The Inkas designed and settled an impressive ceremonial complex in the South Andes, in an isolated and quite unreachable location at 4384 masl. Ascending to this site, known as La Ciudacita, via its western slope and descending through its eastern one involved crossing, in only 70 km, diverse ecosystems: pre-puna (2000 to 3400 masl), high Andes (above 3400 masl), foggy meadows (3400 to 3200 and 2800 to 2500 masl), mountain forest (2500 to 1500 masl), subtropical mountain forest (1500 to 600 masl), mountain foot forest (600 to 400/300 masl), and the Chaco plain (below 300 masl). The merging of different ecological floors in La Ciudacita (basically the encounter of the yungas and the Andean highlands), the confluence of two rivers near the site (the Jaya River coming from the east and the Las Pavas River from the north), and the position of this settlement at an ethnic frontier that separated the eastern plain groups from highland civilizations, made this location a tinkuy. There is a meaningful difference between the east and the west in Inka mythology: the east, the direction of the jungle, represented the past, the disordered and chaotic archaic times, the time of the uncivilized tribes that inhabited the Earth before the sun was born. The west, on the other hand, represented the present, the time of Inka civilization. In this sense, not only cultures and spaces merged in La Ciudacita, but also time cycles. Here, the present time (Kay Pacha) met the past (Ñawpa Pacha). High and noteworthy mountains, creators of rivers, providers of water, and controllers of the weather and winds, were highly respected and venerated throughout the Andes. People considered them ancestors and tutelary beings, and their summits pacarinas. These mighty entities were dangerous when people mistreated and disregarded them though. When this happened, they harmed communities in different ways, for instance by denying the water needed for human subsistence and bringing storms and diseases. Climbing these mountains, entering their unstable and rugged terrains, and especially reaching their summits was a dangerous enterprise that people preferred to avoid. The Inkas were particularly interested in sacred, tutelary mountains. They built roads toward their peaks, sites to lodge pilgrims and to conduct ceremonies, and ritual platforms on their summits, honoring them with high-quality Inka style material offerings and human sacrifices that constituted the highly sacred ritual known as qhapachucha or capacocha (see below; also see the photos of the gold human and llama figurines used in the ritual in this catalogue; FIGURES 5, 6). Mountains such as Misti, Sara Sara, and Ampato in Peru, Chuscha, El Toro, Aconcagua, Meléndez, and Lullaillaco in Argentina, and Esmeralda and El Plomo in Chile, among others, testify Inka intention to appropriate the Pan-Andean mountain cult. The Inkas had the prowess to settled right on the body of these sacred entities, and even on their heads, as the summits were considered, and to restructure the way people worshiped them, making a powerful declaration. They showed everyone that they were able to modify the territory of the wak’a and to live in its lands without consequences or harm. Qhapachucha, one of the most important and compelling rituals the Inkas developed, had wak’as as main protagonists. It began in Cusco, where pilgrims from all over Tawantinsuyu arrived, bringing presents, to participate in several days of ceremonies. During these events, the Inka emperor decided the amount and type of tribute each wak’a would receive, according to its hierarchy and power, and the importance of its native worshipers to the Inkas’ political strategy. Among these presents were special children from different parts of the empire, generally the sons and daughters of provincial rulers, who were sanctified as “sons of the Sun,” Inka mythical ancestor, becoming hence part of the Inka lineage. When these ceremonies came to an end, groups of pilgrims proceeded to different corners of Tawantinsuyu carrying material and/or human offerings to an assigned wak’a. Qhapachucha did not involve honoring supernatural entities from afar, as it was generally done in indigenous rituals. Qhapachucha entailed visiting the very sacred entities and making a direct physical connection with them. In this way, and by incorporating all wak’as into one large network under Inka control, the Inkas sent a strong message about their hegemonic position in the Andean world and the privileged relationship they had with all the entities that dwelled in it. Natives probably continued interacting with local sacred entities in their own ways, worshiping them from a certain distance, in the safety of their homes and towns, using objects that acted as representatives or proxies of the wak’as, or ritual devices that allowed communication with them. But pilgrimage through wak’as’ lands, direct physical experiences of these entities, and honoring them in close proximity was under Inka control. The Inkas redesigned the way worshipers traveled through holy territories, as well as the way they reached and interacted with wak’as. Frequently, they demolished local architecture, destroying all material memories of previous interactions. In the cases that this was too difficult, they constructed alternative circuits away, and ignoring, local settlements and roads. Everyone who undertook a pilgrimage to these sacred landmarks found ritual scenarios that bore Tawantinsuyu’s material stamp. In these scenarios, the Inkas defined the way people connected with the sacred, keeping for themselves the role of mediators between natives and their own wak’as, linking them through their performative bodies and their ritual devices. Some cases serve to illustrate this point. Illustrative Cases Archaeological studies in the Island of the Sun in Lake Titicaca have demonstrated that the Inkas erased from the island all material traces of previous occupations, setting their own pilgrimage circuit to Titikala. This circuit had different stations and checking points, and not everyone was allowed to go through them. The road that led to the Sacred Rock was intercepted by a gateway and a checkpoint where visitors were divided between those who could access the public space to be in contact with Titikala, and those who could only observe the rituals and astronomical events that took place there from a nearby platform, obligated to keep a respectful distance from this entity. The stela and collective tomb of the Cañari people, elements closely linked with their identity and memory, is a good example of how the Inkas developed a hegemonic stance toward the sacred. The Inkas not only built a whole settlement with classic Inka architecture to contain these animated forces, but also, they redefined the interaction with them. With the onset of Inka domination, the stela and tomb became secluded among walls, and people, if permitted, had to go through a long hallway that led to a narrow door to finally get inside a building compound where the stela and tomb were honored, but also trapped. A final example comes from a site located in the Calchaquí (pronounced as Kalchaki) Valley, Argentina, that I personally studied for some years. Cortaderas is an archaeological site with three Inka areas and a pre-Inka defensive settlement located on top of a hill. The central sector of this site presents Inka style building compounds, a large plaza, and a classic Inka ritual platform called ushnu, on top of a round knoll on the southeastern side of the public space, from where Inka ritual specialists conducted ceremonies (FIGURE 7). Those who came to Cortaderas to participate in ritual events used a road that led them directly into the plaza. Once inside this open space, the roofs and walls of the buildings around the plaza enclosed people, restricting the views of the surrounding landscape and forcing them to focus on what happened in the plaza and on the ushnu. Inka ritual hosts were easily seen and heard by the public below, due to the topographic and acoustic properties of this place. From their position on the ushnu, the Inkas were able to connect with the spectators, but also they could see, talk to, and summon the Meléndez mountain, the central wak’a of the region (FIGURE 8). The Inkas situated themselves as visual intermediaries between the great Calchaquí wak’a and the visitors gathered in the plaza below, who, from their location, were not able to contemplate the sacred mountain. Conclusion The question that begs to be answered to fully understand Inkas’ almost obsessive quest to connect with the animated sacred beings of the Andes is why they did this, why to keep advancing through different territories and investing in wars, roads, waystations, administrative centers, storage facilities, the production of specialized goods, diplomacy, alliances with local elites, and so on. Why did the Inkas search and engage with highly prestigious and widely revered sacred places, but also, with more modest provincial wak’as? I argue that through conquering and ruling different lands and peoples, and by establishing a direct interaction with the supernatural, the Inkas brought order to chaos, built, and communicated their status as powerful more-than-human entities, and became the ancestors of all peoples in the Andes. During the first decades of the European conquest of the Andes, in the second half of the sixteenth century, the Inkas explained to Spanish authorities that, before them, barbarism reigned in the Andes, because, like what happened in the eastern, tropical lowlands, everything was unstable and out of control in the highlands. The Inkas came into play as the civilizers of the Andean world – or at least this is how they represented themselves –, bringing order, wisdom, and prosperity. But for civilization to thrive, all beings needed to be organized and tamed, and the people and supernatural forces of the eastern lowlands contained. This was the principal goal of the Inkas: to establish a direct interaction with the wak’as in order to organize and appease them through ritual and offerings, and, in this way, to keep them under control, restraining and channeling their powers. Thanks to them, the highlands became civilized and balanced, in sharp contrast with the eastern tropical forests, which got stranded in the uncivilized past, remaining in wildness and chaos. Through the relations they established with the powerful supernatural entities of the Andes, by taking them to Cusco, settling right next or on top of them, or by surrounding them with architecture, the Inkas showed that they had transcended humanity. Differently from other people, they had the capacity of penetrating the dangerous territories of the wak’as, of changing and branding these territories with their roads, structures, objects, and bodies, of secluding these entities inside buildings, of being near them, touching and, in some cases, dressing them. The Inkas set and materialized one-on-one interactions with sacred entities, showing to everyone in Tawantinsuyu that they had the ability to be with, manipulate, and negotiate with every wak’a without suffering any damage, as it was the case with other persons. Inka authority dwelled on their condition of more-than-human beings, of tamers of the supernatural, since controlling the wak’as, or the relationships with them, entailed controlling their human worshippers. Natives from the Andes know what they can see and that which remains hidden from the eye is unfamiliar. For example, for modern, Western people, one walks forward, toward the future, and, at least partially, one can foresee the future that one builds for him/herself, leaving the past behind. According to Andean traditions, the past is in front of people because it is visible, while the future lies behind since it cannot be seen and, therefore, is unknown. For indigenous peoples of the Andes, history had two main characteristics: (1) it was cyclical; and (2) it was entangled with geography. The past was not a series of lineal events in a chronological sequence, but on the contrary, it was cyclically experienced and relived in the landscape (see the chapter by S. Ramírez on a similar cyclical conception of the Inka dynastic history). History thus was present; present in the double sense of being present in the territories, in certain locations, and in the present time, in specific moments. Andean indigenous people believed (and still do) in the regeneration of the world, of living beings, but also in the regeneration of history. Thereby, past events were expected to occur more than once, following similar patterns. Circulation through the Andean landscape was not just about moving through space, but also through time. There were many places connected with mythical events across the Andes. This was the case of pacarinas: locations where mythical ancestors emerged to found local communities and lineages, and where they returned to dwell as tutelary entities. During particular times, and through specific rituals, people could relive these events. It was not a reenactment of past events, but rather they happened again. When the Inkas intervened and modified these types of places, constructing roads and Inka style architecture, and when they left offerings composed of Inka elements, including children of the Sun, they became part of the past. The Inkas appropriated and introduced changes in the mythical history of their subordinates, inscribing themselves in local mnemonic devices (what was visible and, hence, known) and, therefore, in indigenous history. Qhapachucha pilgrimage from Cusco to these mythical places may have represented the return of ancestors to their pacarinas. Through these actions, the Inkas transformed their status from foreign conquerors to returning ancestors, legitimating in this way their domination. FIGURE CAPTIONS Figure 1: Emperor Tupa Inka Yupanqui dialoguing with the provincial wak’as that the Inkas brought to Cusco (drawing by Felipe Guamán Poma de Ayala, 1615, Nueva Crónica y Buen Gobierno, downloaded from http://www5.kb.dk/permalink/2006/poma/263/es/image/?open=idm327&imagesize=XL Figure 2: Sacred Rock and Inka public space, Island of the Sun, Lake Titicaca, Bolivia (photo by Félix A. Acuto). Figure 3: View of Sampaipata boulder (photo courtesy of Iván Leibowicz). Figure 4: Inka trapezoidal niches carved in the boulder (photo courtesy of Iván Leibowicz). Figure 5: Meléndez mountain, Nevados de Cachi, Argentina (photo by Félix A. Acuto). Figure 6: Rock platform on the summit of Meléndez mountain (6020 masl) (photo courtesy of Ricardo Moyano). Figure 7: View to the public space from the ritual platform or ushnu at the site of Cortaderas, Calchaquí Valley, Argentina (photo by Félix A. Acuto). Figure 8: View to sacred mountain Meléndez from the ritual platform or ushnu at the site of Cortaderas, Calchaquí Valley, Argentina (photo by Félix A. Acuto). RECOMMENDED READINGS: Alconini, S., and Covey, R.A. (eds.). 2018. The Oxford Handbook of the Inkas. New York: Oxford University Press. D'Altroy, T.N. 2014. The Inkas. 2nd Edition. Oxford: Willey-Blackwell. Hayashida, F.M., Troncoso, A., and Salazar, D. (eds). 2022. Rethinking the Inka. Community, Landscape, and Empire in the Southern Andes. Austin: University of Texas Press. Hyslop, J. 1990. Inka Settlement Planning. Austin: University of Texas Press. Steele, P.R., and Allen, C.J. 2004. Handbook of Inka Mythology. Santa Barbara, CA: ABC-CLIO. BIOGRAPHY OF FELIX A. ACUTO Félix A. Acuto: Full-time researcher at the Instituto Multidisciplinario de Historia y Ciencias Humanas (CONICET), and professor at the Universidad Nacional de la Matanza, Argentina. He has edited two books on archaeological theory in Latin America and contributed with chapters in edited books such as Rethinking the Inka. Community, Landscape, and Empire in the Southern Andes (2022), The Oxford Handbook of the Inkas (2018), Distant Provinces in the Inka Empire: Toward a Deeper Understanding of Inka Imperialism (2010), and Handbook of South American Archaeology (2008).