Results by title

The Casma Valley of Peru’s north central coast contains the largest New World structure of its time period---2500 to 200 BC---as well as one of the densest concentrations of early sites. In this detailed and thought-provoking volume, Sheila and Thomas Pozorski date each major early site, assess this important valley’s diet and subsistence changes through time, and begin to reconstruct the development of Casma Valley society.Fifteen sites are surveyed, including Pampa de las Llamas-Moxeke, the earliest planned city in the New World. The Pozorskis then synthesize their own fieldwork and previous work in the Casma Valley to chart its development during the critical time when civilization was emerging. The result: a scenario which is somewhat revolutionary in the context of more traditional views of Andean prehistory.Early Settlement and Subsistence in the Casma Valley, Peru adds substantially to the growing body of evidence that the earliest development of Andean civilization occurred on the coast rather than in the highlands. This volume presents comparative data for students of emerging civilizations worldwide and will be of value not only to Andean and New World archaeologists but also to everyone interested in the emergence of complex societies.

Garcilaso de la Vega, the great chronicler of the Incas and the conquistadors, was born in Cuzco in 1539. At the age of twenty, he sailed to Spain to acquire an education, and he remained there until his death at Córdoba in 1616. As the natural son of a noble conquistador and an Indian woman of royal blood, he took immense pride in both his Spanish and Inca heritage, and, living as he did during a bewildering but stimulating epoch, he personally witnessed the last gasp of the dying Inca empire, the fratricidal conflicts that accompanied the Conquest, and the literary growth as well as the political decline of the Spain of Philip II and Philip III.

Garcilaso left for posterity one of the earliest accounts of the ancient Incas, a reliable though admittedly biased chronicle of Spanish conquests in Andean America and a glowing story of Hernando de Soto’s exploration of North America. Though he never lost pride in his Spanish heritage, continued rebuffs in caste-conscious Spain strengthened his pride in his Indian heritage and his sympathy for his mother’s people. Thus his histories, while ennobling Spaniards, also ennobled the Incas, and eventually were to have some influence in the struggle of South Americans for political independence from Spain. In both blood and character El Inca Garcilaso was a true mestizo. He is generally considered to have been the first native-born American to attain the honor of publication.

This was the life, and these were the times, that Varner has evoked so richly in his narrative. It rings and glitters with the sounds and colors of festivals, pageantry, and battle; it listens to the murmur of prayers, the defeated mutter of the Incas, the scratch of the scholar’s quill; it pictures both highlights and shadows. For the reader already acquainted with Garcilaso’s chronicles, this book will be a welcome complement; for those who are meeting El Inca here for the first time, it will be a rewarding and satisfying introduction.

Fifty years of violence perpetrated by guerrillas, paramilitaries, and official armed forces in Colombia displaced more than six million people. In 2011, as part of a larger transitional justice process, the Colombian government approved a law that would restore land rights for those who lost their homes during the conflicts. However, this restitution process lacked appropriate provisions for rural women beyond granting them a formal property title.

Drawing on decades of research, Elusive Justice demonstrates how these women continue to face numerous adverse circumstances, including geographical isolation, encroaching capitalist enterprises, and a dearth of social and institutional support. Donny Meertens contends that women's advocacy organizations must have a prominent role in overseeing these transitional policies in order to create a more just society. By bringing together the underresearched topic of property repayment and the pursuit of gender justice in peacebuilding, these findings have broad significance elsewhere in the world.

Embodied Protests examines how Bolivia's hesitant courtship with globalization manifested in the visceral and emotional diseases that afflicted many Bolivian women. Drawing on case studies conducted among market- and working-class women in the provincial town of Punata, Maria Tapias examines how headaches and debilidad, so-called normal bouts of infant diarrhea, and the malaise oppressing whole communities were symptomatic of profound social suffering. She approaches the narratives of distress caused by poverty, domestic violence, and the failure of social networks as constituting the knowledge that shaped their understandings of well-being. At the crux of Tapias's definitive analysis is the idea that individual health perceptions, actions, and practices cannot be separated from local cultural narratives or from global and economic forces.

Evocative and compassionate, Embodied Protests gives voice to the human costs of the ongoing neoliberal experiment.

Tracing the Fight Against Malaria and the Making of Modern Argentina.

Enemy in the Blood: Malaria, Environment, and Development in Argentina examines the dramatic yet mostly forgotten history of malaria control in northwest Argentina. Carter traces the evolution of malaria science and policy in Argentina from the disease’s emergence as a social problem in the 1890s to its effective eradication by 1950. Malaria-control proponents saw the campaign as part of a larger project of constructing a modern identity for Argentina. Insofar as development meant building a more productive, rational, and hygienic society, the perceptions of a culturally backwards and disease-ridden interior prevented Argentina from joining the ranks of “modern” nations. The path to eradication, however, was not easy due to complicated public health politics, inappropriate application of foreign malaria control strategies, and a habitual misreading of the distinctive ecology of malaria in the northwest, especially the unique characteristics of the local mosquito vector. Homegrown scientific expertise, a populist public health agenda, and an infusion of new technologies eventually brought a rapid end to malaria’s scourge, if not the cure for regional underdevelopment.

Enemy in the Blood sheds light on the often neglected history of northwest Argentina’s interior, adds to critical perspectives on the history of development and public health in modern Latin America, and demonstrates the merits of integrative social-environmental research.

In 1999, Venezuela became the first country in the world to constitutionally recognize the socioeconomic value of housework and enshrine homemakers’ social security. This landmark provision was part of a larger project to transform the state and expand social inclusion during Hugo Chávez’s presidency. The Bolivarian revolution opened new opportunities for poor and working-class—or popular—women’s organizing. The state recognized their unpaid labor and maternal gender role as central to the revolution. Yet even as state recognition enabled some popular women to receive public assistance, it also made their unpaid labor and organizing vulnerable to state appropriation.

Offering the first comprehensive analysis of this phenomenon, Engendering Revolution demonstrates that the Bolivarian revolution cannot be understood without comprehending the gendered nature of its state-society relations. Showcasing field research that comprises archival analysis, observation, and extensive interviews, these thought-provoking findings underscore the ways in which popular women sustained a movement purported to exalt them, even while many could not access social security and remained socially, economically, and politically vulnerable.

An expansive biography of William (or Guillermo, as he is known in South America) Miller, a soldier well-recognized and loved not just in modern Peru but across the swath of nations liberated from Spanish rule during the nineteenth century. 

During Admiral Thomas Cochrane’s demolition of imperial Spain’s naval presence in the Pacific amid the revolutionary wars for Spanish South America, all the raids were carried out by his marines under a young officer called William Miller. One of three sons of a baker in a small village in Kent, with no family influence, money, or even secondary education, he came from nowhere, but he went on to have a meteoric rise in the armies that liberated the nations of Chile and Peru. By the time of Ayacucho in 1824, the large battle that ended Spanish rule in South America, there were seven generals in the royalist Spanish army and five on the patriot side. Eleven of these generals were Hispanic; Miller was the only foreigner.

Set in the context of the great European powers’ weakening grip over their global empires and the ensuing wars of independence in Spanish South America, John Hemming’s gripping narrative spans Miller’s time as a teenage soldier in Wellington’s Peninsular War, his contribution to the liberation of the new nations Chile and Peru, and his years in diplomacy thereafter. Drawing on written accounts by many of Miller’s contemporaries in addition to a wealth of modern research, Hemming casts the anti-imperialist, anti-slavery soldier as highly regarded by all the leaders of independence and popular with ordinary people and peasant farmers due to his own humble origins—a legacy evidenced by his burial in the Pantheon of founding fathers of Peru decades after the battles in which he made his name.
 

Brazil was one of the emerging world powers to be invited to the Paris Peace Conference in 1919. Having jettisoned her empire just thirty years before, the Portuguese-speaking nation was showed signs of becoming one of the financial powerhouses not just of Latin America, but of the world. Helped by abundant natural resources, cheap labour and large-scale immigration, Brazil’s economy had grown massively – and now it wanted to take its proper place in the society of world nations. In Paris, the country’s delegation was led by Epitacio Pessoa, a brilliant lawyer who had made his mark in national politics and was also a committed Europhile. It was a shrewd choice; helped by the Americans, Pessoa negotiated a deal to rescue Brazilian coffee from the German ports where it had languished since the middle of the war. He also helped win a place at the top table for Brazil in the new League of Nations. Pessoa was then rewarded by being elected president of Brazil – even though he was in Paris at the time. Yet even as Brazil enjoyed its moment of triumph on the international stage, the country’s political system was starting to unravel. Pessoa’s presidency ended in failure in 1922, its modest achievements overshadowed by bitter army revolts. And as Pessoa embarked on a new career as an international judge, his country slipped further into political infighting between elite oligarchies until the ageing republic finally folded in 1930. This, then, is the story of Epitacio Pessoa, the Treaty of Versailles and the rise and fall of Brazil’s tumultuous First Republic.

A family’s flight from Nazi terror to an unexpected refuge in Chile.

Escaping Hitler is the personal story of Eva Wyman and her family’s escape from Nazi Germany to Chile in the sociohistorical context of 1930s and 1940s, a time when the Chilean Nazi party had an active presence in the country’s major institutions.

Based primarily on interviews with German Jewish refugees and family correspondence, Eva Goldschmidt Wyman provides an intimate account of Jews in Germany in the 1930s as Nazi controls tightened and family members were taken to Riga concentration camp. Wyman recounts Kristallnacht in Stuttgart, where her father was principal of the Jewish school, his imprisonment in Dachau, and his release and immigration to Great Britain. Escaping Hitler details the family’s escape from Germany and subsequent life in Chile, providing an intimate look at daily life on the steam ship Conte Grande during the voyage from Italy to Chile in 1939, Nazi espionage and anti-Semitic activity in Chile, and the Nazi influence in South America in general.

Recounted in an intimate and personal style, Escaping Hitler immerses the reader in an extraordinary chapter of contemporary Jewish history both inside Germany and South America.

In Spain and Argentina during the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries, anarchists sought to build their ideal society in the present rather than wait for the revolution. These radicals built their daily lives around their beliefs—a far-sighted cultural project that shaped education, family life, leisure time, and moral values.

Nathaniel Andrews looks at life in four communities to explore how anarchists fused radical politics with the everyday. As Andrews shows, anarchists created networks across the Atlantic that not only shared people and ideas, but practices, too. Small actions—picnics, childrearing, using time differently—became a part of pursuing larger political goals. But these practices also revealed tensions within the movement by highlighting the gap separating ideas and actions, particularly in matters of gender.

Vivid and surprising, <i>Everyday Anarchism</i> reveals a daring program to model a radical society within the very world anarchism hoped to transform.

Exemplary Violence explores the violent colonial history of the New Kingdom of Granada (modern-day Colombia and Venezuela) by examining three seventeenth-century historical accounts—Pedro Simón’s Noticias historiales, Juan Rodríguez Freile’s El carnero, and Lucas Fernández de Piedrahita’s Historia general—each of which reveals the colonizer’s reliance on the threat of violence to sustain order.