The rise of the earliest civilizations in the Americas was closely intertwined with the development of agriculture. In many regions where early farming prevailed, the combination of maize, beans, and plants such as squash came to substitute for diets rich in animal protein. In time, these primary domesticates supported large populations and established the economic basis for the development of states and civilizations in several New World areas. Superficially, we can say that early New World cities, states, and civilizations are broadly comparable to those of the Old World. All shared some basic similarities: state economies based on agriculture and long-distance trade; powerful leaders and social stratification; human labor invested in large-scale constructions; public art styles; state religions; record keeping; and the prominent role of warfare. Still, there are significant points of contrast as well. For example, domesticated animals played only a small part in New World agriculture; the technological role of metal was limited; and the wheel had no important function, nor did watercraft. These differences reflect the unique historical traditions, resources, and geography of the continents on which the earliest civilizations developed. This section examines three New World civilizations that developed in very different regions— lowland Mesoamerica, highland Mexico, and Peru .
Lowland Mesoamerica Olmec
By roughly 3,500 ya, farming villages dotted the river valleys and lowlands of Mesoamerica. Local chiefdoms arose, and one of these groups, known as the Olmec, achieved prominence in the forests and swamps of the southern Gulf Coast of Mexico between about 3,200 and 2,400 ya . Richard Diehl (2004) and Michael Coe (Diehl and Coe, 1996) identify Olmec as “America’s first civilization” and contend that it exerted considerable influence on later Mesoamerican cultures. Other archaeologists (e.g., Flannery and Marcus, 2000; Spencer and Redmond, 2004) argue that Olmec polities were chiefdoms, not states, and that they were simply part of a web of interacting chiefdoms and early states. What’s more, Spencer and Redmond (2004) maintain that the most convincing archaeological evidence for the emergence of the earliest Mesoamerican state can be found not in the lowlands, but at the large Zapotec center of Monte Alban in the highlands of Oaxaca around 2,300 ya. The two best-known Olmec sites are San Lorenzo and La Venta (see Fig. 15-16), which Diehl (2004) identifies as the region’s first cities. At both sites, people extensively modified the natural landscape—without the aid of domestic animals or machinery—to convert them to proper settings for impressive constructions and sculptures of ritual significance (Coe, 1994; Diehl, 2004). Earthenmound alignments enclose the wide courtyards, plazas, and artificial ponds at San Lorenzo. A 100-foot-high coneshaped earthen pyramid dominates La Venta. Within and near the sites themselves, there are hundreds of smaller earthen platform mounds that once supported homes and workshops. In addition to ceremonial architecture, the Olmec produced remarkable monumental sculptures and smaller, well-crafted carvings of jade and other attractive stones (Cyphers and Di Castro, 2009). Anthropomorphic forms predominate, including some figurines and bas-reliefs that combine the features of humans with those of felines, probably jaguars. Olmec art and iconography are fascinating but poorly understood. Who or what did these anthropomorphic beings represent? We don’t know. Equally intriguing are the colossal Olmec heads, each of which seems to be an individualized portrait of a ruler in helmet-like headgear, carved from massive basalt boulders weighing up to 20 tons . Ten of these huge monuments have been found at San Lorenzo itself. Archaeologists estimate that the sustained effort of 1,000 workers was needed to drag and raft these boulders from their distant source, some 60 miles from the site (Lowe, 1989). Curiously, the Olmec intentionally buried caches of beads, as well as carved figurines and implements made from their highly valued jade. One pit offering at La Venta consisted of 460 green stone blocks, arranged into a giant mosaic design and then buried at a depth of more than 20 feet. Another held an assemblage of small jade figures set into place so that they all seem to be confronting one individual. Then, still in position, the group was buried . The latest Olmec controversy concerns the origins of writing in Mesoamerica. Several artifacts bearing signs reputed to be glyphs that could be part of an Olmec writing system have recently been reported from sites in the coastal states of Veracruz and Tabasco (Pohl et al., 2002; del Carmen Rodriguez Martinez et al., 2006). One of these artifacts, a serpentine block that bears 62 signs, or glyphs, could be as old as 900 b.c. Critics argue that these discoveries aren’t sufficient evidence of a fully developed system of writing (Stokstad, 2002; see also Bruhns and Kelker, 2007). To sum things up, the Olmec represent a fascinating early development of complex society in the lowlands of the Mexican Gulf Coast, but one about which archaeologists have more questions than answers. Most evidence supports the view that the Olmec chiefdoms of southern Veracruz and Tabasco were similar in many respects to their neighbors in the highlands to the south and west and to those throughout central Mexico. The archaeological evidence may or may not eventually live up to Diehl’s claim that they were America’s first civilization (Lawler, 2007).
Classic Maya
Some suggest that the roots of Classic Maya* rest partly with the Olmec, whose art, architecture, and rituals are reflected in several early Maya sites. However, the development of Maya civilization also clearly owed much to its competitive interaction with contemporary chiefdoms in several Mesoamerican regions, a process that ultimately resulted in some of them becoming true states and civilizations (Flannery and Marcus, 2000; Braswell, 2003). By roughly 2,100 ya, the elements of Maya civilization were coming together. Crucial materials that were lacking in most of the Maya lowlands, especially suitable stone for making tools and milling slabs, were exchanged for commodities such as salt and the feathers of colorful jungle birds, both of which highland groups desired. Control of trade routes or strategic waterways in northern Guatemala may have promoted the growth of the Late Preclassic† center at El Mirador, where archaeologists have found the earliest evidence of Maya palaces, and, later, at Uaxactun and Tikal . At these sites and others, Maya society came to be dominated increasingly by an elite social class. A host of Maya kings, each claiming descent through royal lineages back to the gods themselves, held sway over independent citystates centered on elaborate ceremonial precincts. Under the patronage of these kings, writing, fine arts, and architecture flourished in the Maya lowlands, as did chronic warfare among rival kingdoms (Sharer, 1996; Coe, 1999). Lisa Lucero (2003) argues that successful Maya rulers acquired and maintained their political power by skillfully manipulating domestic rituals, which in turn promoted political cohesion. The Maya are best known for their impressive Classic period urban centers, with Tikal, Copan (Honduras), and Palenque (Mexico) among them . These centers were essentially capitals of regional Maya city-states, despite their somewhat dispersed populace. Including the ruling elite and their retainers, crafters, other specialists, and farmers, some 27,000 people were attached to the important city of Copan (Webster et al., 2000), although two-thirds of them actually lived in farming compounds scattered through the Copan Valley, within walking distance of the Copan urban center. Formal, large-scale architecture dominated the largest cities. Tikal, with over 50,000 residents, boasted more than 3,000 structures in its core precinct alone. Most impressive were the stepped, limestone-sided pyramids capped with temples. Facing across the broad stuccoed plazas were multiroom palaces (presumably elite residences), generally a ritual ball court or two , and always elaborately carved stelae . Other features might include graded causeways leading into the complex masonry reservoirs for storing crucial runoff from tropical cloudbursts. The ancient Maya typically painted their structures in bold colors, so the overall effect must have been stunning. Maya writing was well developed by 300–200 b.c. (Houston, 2006), and scholars are now able to decipher many of the inscriptions found on Maya stelae, temples, and other monuments. Many stelae proclaim the ancestry and noble deeds of actual Maya rulers and provide a precise chronology of major events in lowland Mesoamerica (Schele and Miller, 1986). These inscriptions offer direct insights to Classic Maya sociopolitical organization, including the uneasy and frequently embattled relationships among leading ceremonial centers and their rival aristocracies (Schele and Freidel, 1990; Coe, 1992). Religion was a key component of Maya society, just as it was in all early civilizations. Architecture and art were dedicated to the veneration of divine kings and the worship of perhaps hundreds of major and minor deities. The nobility included a priestly caste that carefully observed the sun, moon, and planet Venus; predicted the rains; prescribed the rituals; and performed the sacrifices. Most of the priestly lore and learning faithfully recorded in the Maya codices, or books , was lost when the Spanish burned these ancient texts during the conquest. Archaeologists historically have devoted much of their attention to the most spectacular Classic Maya sites, but in recent decades they have also begun to learn a lot about the lives of ordinary people. For example, extraordinary discoveries, such as the buried Maya community at Ceren, in El Salvador, give us detailed glimpses of village life (Sheets, 2002, 2006). Ceren—once a hamlet of mud-walled, thatched huts—lay entombed for 1,400 years beneath 18 feet of ash from the eruption of a nearby volcano. The inhabitants fled their homes, which were quickly buried by the volcanic ash. Remarkable traces of Maya peasant life survived, including a plentiful harvest of maize, beans, squash, tomatoes, and chilies stored in baskets and pots, arranged as if they had just been gathered from nearby garden plots. The rise and fall of Maya city-states continued for centuries, and we now know a great deal about the historical events that figured in the changing fortunes of Maya kings. Things came to a head around a.d. 900, after which artisans no longer turned out their distinctive decorated ceramics, nor did they carve and erect inscribed stelae. The construction of palaces, temples, and other major works ceased altogether, and nearly all major Classic Maya sites were abandoned. The remarkable collapse of Classic Maya civilization has intrigued scholars for decades. Archaeologists are not yet sure what happened, let alone why. Proposed explanations, none of which are adequate by themselves to explain every case, include devastation by hurricanes or earthquakes, insect infestations, epidemic diseases, malnutrition, overpopulation, an unbalanced male/female sex ratio, peasant revolts against the elite, and mass migrations. Other researchers argue that Classic Maya city-states collapsed primarily because they failed to integrate into a single unified political system, such as that achieved by the Aztecs in central Mexico and the Inca in highland South America (Cioffi-Revilla and Landman, 1999, pp. 586–588). Recent evidence also points to possible climatic factors, including multiple major droughts and widespread deforestation, as important elements in the demise of many Classic Maya cities (Pringle, 2009).
Highland Mexico
In central Mexico, far to the northwest of the Maya area, the convergence of two mountain ranges forms a great highland of some 3,000 square miles, commonly called the Valley of Mexico . An elevated plateau rimmed by mountains and volcanic peaks to the west, south, and east, the rich agricultural soils of the Valley of Mexico were watered by several rivers and large lakes. This broad semiarid valley, which is today dominated by Mexico City, was the stage on which several important prehistoric states and civilizations developed. Teotihuacán, the earliest citystate to dominate the region, became one of the largest urban centers in the New World up to the nineteenth century (Cowgill, 2000). Teotihuacán With its fields nourished by a system of irrigation canals, Teotihuacan was a successful, growing community around 2,200 ya. Its closest competitor, Cuicuilco , had a population of around 20,000 at its peak but vanished from the scene around 2,000 ya, when it was buried by a lava flow. This unfortunate event worked to Teotihuacan’s advantage, and it soon was the most important polity in the Valley of Mexico. Its influence can be archaeologically recognized in many parts of Mesoamerica, as far away as Guatemala, after 1,700 ya (Spencer and Redmond, 2004). At its height between 1,700 and 1,400 ya, Teotihuacan had more than 100,000 residents and covered nearly 8 square miles. Somewhat in contrast to the Maya centers, Teotihuacan’s layout was more orderly and its population more highly concentrated. Built on a grid pattern with a primary north-south axis, its avenues, plazas, major monuments, and homes alike—and even the San Juan River—were aligned to a master plan. The city’s inhabitants lived in some 2,000 apartment compounds, arranged into formal neighborhoods based on occupation or social class and ranging from merchants to military officers and even foreigners. Civic and religious leaders enjoyed more luxurious facilities in the central district (Millon, 1988). Artisans laboring in hundreds of individual household workshops produced ceramic vessels, obsidian blades, shell and jade carvings, fabrics, leather goods, and other practical or luxury items. An impressive civic-ceremonial precinct covered nearly 1 square mile in the heart of the city. Imaginative Spanish explorers assigned the name Avenida de los Muertos (literally, “Avenue of the Dead”) to the main thoroughfare, which extends northward 2.8 miles to a massive structure, the Pyramid of the Moon. An even greater Pyramid of the Sun, its base equal to that of Khufu’s pyramid at Giza in Egypt (though it rises only half as high), occupies a central position along the same avenue. Archaeologists have come to recognize that the Teotihuacan rulers built this immense structure to resemble a sacred mountain, and they raised it directly over a natural cave that symbolized the entry to the underworld. Flanking the south end of the Avenida de los Muertos, the Ciudadela was the administrative complex, and the Great Compound served as Teotihuacan’s central marketplace. Unlike Maya art, that of Teotihuacan doesn’t show identifiable rulers or personalized representations. There also are no Teotihuacan counterparts of Maya stelae commemorating the conquests and lineages of a given king. Artistic expression is both impersonal and repetitive, the same elements or motifs appearing again and again; this pattern is particularly evident in Teotihuacan architecture, the repetitive nature of which was relieved mostly by the use of bright colors . Although social differentiation clearly existed in Teotihuacan society, it was mostly expressed in art by differences of costume, not by representations of the human body (Cowgill, 2000). Warfare appears to have been common among Mesoamerican states, but cultural differences determined how war was expressed artistically (Brown and Stanton, 2003). These differences went unappreciated by archaeologists for a long time, and it was believed that Teotihuacan was a relatively peaceful state. Now that researchers better understand Teotihuacan culture, we can see that warfare was an important part of this early state. Mention of warfare leads us logically to examine the possible influence that Teotihuacan wielded throughout Mexico’s central region and beyond. The society’s fine orange-slipped ceramics, architectural and artistic styles, and obsidian products are said to be present at distant contemporary centers, such as Monte Alban in Oaxaca; the Maya site of Kaminaljuyú in the Guatemalan highlands; and Tikal, Uaxactun, and Becan in the Maya lowlands (Berlo, 1992). Some also argue that Teotihuacan played a large role in the development of Maya states (e.g., Sanders and Michels, 1977; Sanders et al., 1979). As with many—if not most—archaeological generalizations, the more we learn, the more complex the picture gets. And while no one doubts that Teotihuacan interacted with other regions, the precise nature of this interaction is still being explored (Braswell, 2003). Some scholars point to the Escuintla region on the Pacific coast of Guatemala, where evidence was recently found of a Teotihuacan colony that established itself at several sites and soon made itself felt throughout this region as well as in southern Chiapas and western El Salvador (Bove and Busto, 2003). Other scholars, many of them Maya specialists, view the whole notion of Teotihuacan “influence” as greatly exaggerated; in cases where there is indisputable material evidence of contact, they argue that it hasn’t yet been proved that Teotihuacan had a significant local impact or that it changed anything (e.g., Iglesias Ponce de Leon, 2003). The truth probably lies somewhere between these opposed views, but precisely where we’ve yet to discover. Like the Classic Maya collapse, Teotihuacan’s demise remains an archaeological mystery. After prospering for more than 600 years, conditions became unfavorable. Human remains excavated from the site’s later features show common skeletal indicators of nutritional stress and disease as well as high infant mortality rates. Still, the city endured and population levels remained stable for another century or so before declining rapidly. The end came in flames and havoc about 1,350 ya (Cowgill, 2000). The entire ceremonial precinct blazed as temples were thrown down and their icons smashed, though residential areas remained unscathed. In the frenzy, some of the nobility were seized and dismembered, apparently by their own people. As archaeologist George L. Cowgill (2000, p. 290) puts it, “What ended was not just a dynasty, it was the belief system that had supported the state.” The city may even have been abandoned, or nearly so, for a brief period, but researchers still have much to learn about this period of the city’s past. Regardless, the destruction ended Teotihuacan’s political and religious preeminence, and many of its residents scattered to other communities. Toltecs Teotihuacan’s collapse did not leave a political, economic, or religious vacuum in highland Mesoamerica. Of the many groups contending for control over the region during the next few centhe Toltecs eventually emerged as the most powerful. They established a capital at Tula, in the northern Valley of Mexico some 40 miles northwest of Teotihuacan. By 1,200–1,100 ya, the city may have had as many as 50,000 to 60,000 residents. This city-state covered about 5 square miles and included several pyramids and ball courts in two ceremonial precincts (Healan and Stoutamire, 1989). Although its more modest ceremonial precincts scarcely rivaled those of Classic period times, Tula does show some artistic and architectural continuities with Teotihuacan (Cowgill, 2000). The Toltecs also briefly enjoyed a commercial and military enterprise that expanded through trade and tribute networks, colonization efforts, and probably conquest (Davies, 1983; Healan, 1989). Toltec prestige reached in several directions. We even recognize their influence in the copper bells, ceremonial ball courts, and other exotic products found on Hohokam sites in the American Southwest, from which the Toltecs acquired their valued blue turquoise stone, probably by making long-distance exchanges (see pp. 367–368). As Toltec power declined around 850 ya, a prolonged drought was withering many of the farming communities in northern Mexico and the American Southwest, bringing streams of refugees into the Valley of Mexico and throwing the region into chaos once more. One of the groups that appeared on the scene at this point was the Mexica, better known historically as the Aztecs (Smith, 2003, 2008). They built many city-states, the best known of which is the imperial capital of Tenochtitlán, and dominated the Valley of Mexico until 1519, when the Spanish conquered them.
Peru
At first glance, Peru seems an unlikely region for nurturing early civilizations . Its narrow coast is a dry fringe of desert broken by deeply entrenched river valleys that slice down from the mountains to the sea. The Andes Mountains rise abruptly and dramatically behind the coastal plain, forming a rugged, snowcapped continental divide that extends the length of South America . These geographical contrasts figured prominently in Peru’s prehistory (Bruhns, 1994). In fact, the dynamic tension between coast and highlands—between fishers and farmers—provides a key to understanding the region’s cultural past.
Fishing, Farming, and the Rise of Civilization
Most of the world’s early civilizations were built on the shoulders of farmers. However, in the central Andes region—that is, in Peru and parts of Bolivia and Ecuador—things played out a little differently, and archaeologists continue to explore the relative contributions of both fishing and farming to the development of Peruvian civilization (Moseley, 1975; Wilson, 1981; Bruhns, 1994). Archaeologist Michael Moseley points out that the deep, cold Pacific currents off the Peruvian coast that create the richest fishing waters in the Western Hemisphere are also responsible for the climatic conditions that make the central Andes coastal plain one of the world’s driest deserts (Moseley, 1992, p. 102). Marine resources surely supported people in this region from the earliest period of human settlement. Between 6,000 and 4,500 ya, when farming was already under way in a few highland areas, coastal fishing groups settled as permanent residents at sites such as Paloma (see pp. 365–366). The productive fisheries may have delayed farming in this dry coastal region for some time, until the long-term effects of a stronger, recurring El Nino pattern and other factors promoted the development of a simple form of agriculture. In early farming efforts near the coast, people planted squash, gourds, and beans in the damp beds of seasonal streams flowing down from the Andes. Social differentiation and the intensification of agriculture spread widely in western South America between 5,500 and 3,800 ya, and evidence can be found at coastal sites in Ecuador and Peru (Pozorski and Pozorski, 2008). For example, the coastal site of Aspero, located in the Norte Chico region to the north of Lima and dated to 5,000– 4,500 ya (see Fig. 15-24), depended on marine resources as well as several domesticated food crops plus cotton. Aspero covers about 37 acres and includes six platform mounds. It provides good evidence that social differentiation and a certain amount of centralized power was present in some coastal centers at a very early date (Haas and Creamer, 2004). Recent research at inland sites in the Norte Chico region has revealed more than 20 major preceramic sites with monumental architecture and large residential areas between 5,000 and 3,800 ya (Haas et al., 2004). The large urban center of Caral in the Supe Valley covers roughly 270 acres and includes sunken circular plazas, large and small platform mounds, and many residential and other building complexes. Although Caral lies 14 miles inland, the faunal remains found in excavations of this site are all marine animals, principally small fishes such as anchovies and sardines (Haas and Creamer, 2004). Haas and Creamer (2004) argue that when you consider Norte Chico sites such as Caral and Aspero together, it’s evident that a sort of symbiotic economic relationship existed between inland and coastal sites. Coastal sites like Aspero provided the region’s main source of animal protein, mostly in the form of anchovies and sardines, and inland sites like Caral provided the main source of plant resources, including cotton for fishnets and gourds for net floats. The inland sites also appear to have had the upper hand in the emergence of leadership and political power in the region. At the inland sites, we find archaeologically identifiable status differences, larger monumental architecture, motifs and features such as sunken circular plazas that appear to be precursors of pan-Andean patterns, control over agricultural resources, and evidence of agricultural intensification (Haas and Creamer, 2004, pp. 46–47). Peru’s coastal regions were wholeheartedly committed to subsistence agriculture after about 3,800 ya. Farming communities are found in river valleys such as the Moche, where irrigation was feasible . There, local communities dug canals to irrigate crops of maize, peanuts, and potatoes, plants originally domesticated in Mexico and the Andean highlands. Such staple crops made farming a worthwhile endeavor, especially considering the periodic unreliability of coastal resources due to El Nino. The success of these lowland communities may be measured by the imposing size of ceremonial complexes found in more than two dozen coastal valleys and several upland sites in central and northern Peru. Sechin Alto, on the Casma River, is an early example of the “corporate construction” projects that became common in Peru at this time. At Sechin Alto and other sites, huge U-shaped arrangements of temples, platforms, and courtyards— as well as irrigation networks in many instances—represent the efforts of large labor forces. Sites of this kind became important ceremonial and possibly market centers for several neighboring valleys (Pozorski and Pozorski, 1988). What inspired the collective efforts that produced the early Peruvian civic architecture and art styles? Most archaeologists interpret these developments as evidence of greater social complexity and greater authority invested in civil or religious leaders. Under their direction, public energies were applied to large-scale construction projects. But what motivated individuals to participate in these collective enterprises? And what guided their leaders? What was the source of their persuasive or coercive powers? In Peru, as elsewhere, archaeologists have considered such factors as militarism, religion, and control of resources to explain the rise of civilizations (e.g., Haas et al., 1987).
Chavín
Around 3,200–2,850 ya, the peoples of the northern Peruvian highlands and coast came together in a religious fervor that brought a degree of cultural unity to this broad region. Underlying their unity was some form of centralized authority (Kembel and Rick, 2004), with a shared ideology that the people expressed especially through their ritual art. Chavín de Huantar, an intriguing civic-ceremonial center set in a high Andean valley, is the best-known archaeological example of this iconography (Burger, 1992, 2008). There, raised stone tiers flank sunken courtyards where ceremonies took place near a temple riddled by underground chambers and passageways. Anthropomorphic stone sculptures and other art at the site combine human characteristics with the features of jaguars, snakes, birds of prey, and mythological beings. Although Chavin may have been an agent of widespread cultural change in the region, at least on a stylistic and ideological level, its influence had faded considerably by about 2,500 ya.
Early States
Several Peruvian kingdoms, or states, including the Moche culture of Peru’s north coast, formed between 1,900 and 1,300 ya (Stanish, 2001). The Moche rulers consolidated their hold over neighboring valleys initially through warfare and then by greatly expanding irrigated agricultural lands in the conquered areas. The archaeologist Charles Stanish (2001, p. 53) suggests that the Moche capital (of the same name) may have been “the first true city in the Andes.” Among this city’s monumental works, the Huaca del Sol, or Pyramid of the Sun, incorporated some 100 million hand-formed bricks and was one of the largest prehistoric structures in the Americas. Artistic specialists created remarkable objects that served the elite as status symbols in life and in death. Unique polychrome ceramic vessels modeled to represent portraits, buildings, everyday scenes, or imaginative fantasies were a Moche specialty . Metalsmiths also hammered, alloyed, and cast beautiful ornaments, ceremonial weapons, and religious paraphernalia from precious gold, silver, and copper. Unlike Old World societies, those in the Americas seldom employed metal for technological purposes, generally reserving it for ornamental use as a badge of social standing. The contents of excavated tombs of Moche warrior-priests rival those of the rulers of Egypt or Mesopotamia (Alva and Donnan, 1993). These high officials, both male and female, officiated over the human sacrifice ceremony that was an important component of Moche state religion. Upon their own deaths, these officials were dressed in the elaborate and distinctive regalia of their elevated position. Protected by dead attendants, llamas, and dogs, their tombs have yielded ceremonial headdresses, earrings, necklaces, and goblets. As Moche influences faded around 1,400 ya, the Wari and Tiwanaku states emerged in the central and southern highlands (Isbell, 2008). The name Wari (also spelled Huari) derives from the capital city of Wari, the urban core of which covered roughly 2 square miles in an architectural plan that was repeated in other Wari centers (Stanish, 2001). Like Wari, Tiwanaku, which was situated near Lake Titicaca, in Bolivia , used trade, control of food and labor resources, religion, and military conquest to extend its interests from the Andes to the coast (Isbell and Vranich, 2004). Wari and Tiwanaku shared similar expressions of religious art, including the prominent Staff God deity , the origins of which can be traced back before Chavin to early representations known from the Norte Chico region around 3,250 ya (Haas and Creamer, 2004, pp. 48–49). Beneath these similarities, however, their architecture, lifeways, and cultural landscapes appear to have been fundamentally different (Isbell and Vranich, 2004). The rise and fall of highland states was not limited to Moche, Wari, and Tiwanaku. Peru’s north coast, for example, became the center of yet another episode of expansion beginning around 1,100–1,000 ya. The Chimor (archaeologically called Chimu) kingdom of the north was centered in the Moche Valley (Moore and Mackey, 2008). The eroded mud-brick architecture of its capital, Chan Chan , still blankets several square miles of coastal desert there. Among its ruins are nearly a dozen walled compounds, each of which served as a grand palace, storehouse, and tomb for the successive monarchs of ruling lineages. By contrast, the insubstantial quarters of tens of thousands of urban peasants once crammed the spaces below the massive compound walls (Moseley and Day, 1982). The pattern of conquest and control set by Chimor was seen again in their successors—the Inca, the last native empire builders of ancient Peru. From its beginnings in the Cuzco area around 1,000 ya, this highland society used bold military initiatives and strategic alliances to dominate the southern highlands by 550 ya. The aging Chimor kingdom itself was conquered by the Inca about a.d. 1470. The Inca soon controlled all of modern Peru and the neighboring region, briefly becoming the largest empire in the pre-Hispanic Americas (Covey, 2003, 2008), only to succumb in the 1500s, like Tenochtitlan in the Valley of Mexico, to the invasion of the New World by the Old.