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ethnicsurvivalof00gome_0277.txt

THE ETHNIC SURVIVAL OF THE TENETEHARA INDIANS
OF MARANHAO, BRAZIL








BY

MERCIO PEREIRA GOMES


A DISSERTATION PRESENTED TO THE GRADUATE COUNCIL OF
THE UNIVERSITY OF FLORIDA
IN PARTIAL FULFILLMENT OF THE REQUIREMENTS FOR THE DEGREE OF DOCTOR OF PHILOSOPHY


UNIVERSITY OF FLORIDA


1977













































Copyright By Mercio Pereira Gomes


1977

























This dissertation is dedicated

to the memory of Eduardo Gustavo Eneas Galvgo (1921-1976) and to

Charles Wagley,

Ethnographers of the Tenetehara who have understood the plight of the Indian and the plight of the caboclo as problems of humankind.














ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS


The Lowland South American Program has sponsored my graduate

studies since I came to the University of Florida in the Fall of 1974. It also provided me with grants for travel and fieldwork in Brazil from June to December, 1975, and for the typing, editing and copying of this dissertation. I am most thankful to this Program and to its organizers, Drs. Charles Wagley, Paul Doughty, and William Carter.

I cannot count the many other ways in which Dr. Charles Wagley has

helped me. He has been a source of intellectual inspiration and challenge, of understanding and counsel. He and his wife, Mrs. Cecilia Roxo Wagley have extended their warm-friendship to my family and me. He has allowed me to read his and Dr. Eduardo Galvio's unpublished field notes of their visit to the Tenetehara in 1941-1945. He has done extensive editing and some important revision of this dissertation.

I want to thank the other members of my committee, Drs. Maxine

Margolis, Anthony Oliver-Smith, Paul Doughty, and Terry McCoy for their comments and editorial revisions of an early draft of this dissertation. I am thankful to Pride Hooper who carefullyedited the complete last draft of this dissertation. She and the members of my committee performed a service to me for which I am immensely grateful. Of course, the stylistic and theoretical shortcomings of this dissertation are my own responsibility.

In addition I want to thank Mrs. Vivian Nolan, secretary of the Center for Latin American Studies, and Mrs. Lydia Deakin, of the









Department of Anthropology for their kind help in lending their resources and knowledge of the University of Florida bureaucracy. I am grateful to Arlene Kelly for typing portions of an early draft, and particularly to Debbie Breedlove for typing the final copy of this dissertation.

My wife Ann Elizabeth Baldwin-Gomes helped me during the first

crucial months of fieldwork. She prepared the three maps presented here and also helped with suggestions for revisions of early drafts of this disseration.

I would like to thank the following people and institutions in

Brazil: Dr. Carlos Moreira Neto, of the Museu do Indio, Rio de Janeiro, who provided me with bibliographical and historical material which otherwise I would not have been able to obtain. The National Foundation for the Indian (FUNAI), for allowing me to live among the Tenetehara and to visit the Urubu-Kaapor and the recently contacted Guaja Indians. DeyseLob~o, Joao Moreira, Francisco Mour~o, Jose Carlos Meireles, Domingos Pereira, Francisco Renn6, all employees of FUNAI in Sao Lugs, for their help in various stages of field work.. The Curia Custodial of the Igreja de Sao Carmo in Sao Lu{s, and its secretary, Father Oswaldo, for letting me read an important part of their archive on the Alto Alegre Mission of 1895-1901. Dr. and Mrs. Carl Harrison, of the Summer Institute of Linguistics, for their help when I contracted malaria near their village and for sharing their experiences among the Tenetehara. Dona Maria Dolores Maia, who has been involved with the Tenetehara as a teacher since 1941, for her kindness and help while I was in Graja'. Raimundo Viana, also of Grajau, a former employee of the Servigo de Protegao aos Indios, for letting me use his personal files in addition to providing me with important personal information on the









history of local Brazilian-Indian relations.

Finally I want to thank the Tenetehara Indians, particularly Gentil, Antonio Guajajara, Joaquinzinho, Alderico, Virgolino and his family, Jose Lopes, and the Brazilians Maria Oliveira and Francisco de Assis who are married to Tenetehara, for their help, tolerance, and candor.














TABLE OF CONTENTS


ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS iv LIST OF TABLES ix

LIST OF FIGURES x

ABSTRACT xi CHAPTER I
The Field Situation

CHAPTER II
The Tenetehara in the Modern World 19
Indians and Brazilians 19 Indians and FUNAI 26 Indians and the New Economic Developments 30 CHAPTER III
Theoretical Orientation 34 C.CHAPTER IV
Formation of Inter-Ethnic Relations 53
The Phase of Slavery: 1613-1653 58 Serfdom Phase: 1653-1755 74 CHAPTER V
Freedom and the Rise of Patron-Client Relationships 85
Freedom and Transitional Contact: 1755-1840 86 Indians and the Economic Frontiers 93 The Period of Patron-Client Relationships: 1840-1910 95 The Provinical Indian Policy System: 1840-1889 97
The Alto Alegre Incident and the Graja'-Barro do
Corda Region 109
The Gurupi and Pindar6 Regions 121 CHAPTER VI
The Twentieth Century and the Role of the SPI/FUNAI 126
The Mediating Role of the SPI/FUNAI .. 130









CHAPTER VII
Tenetehara Economic System: An Overview 173
Production Forces 177 Production Relations 180 Trade Economies 184 Aboriginal Tenetehara Economy 187
General Changes in the Aboriginal Tenetehara Economic
System 191

CHAPTER VIII
Trade Economy Through Patron-Client Relations 196
Trade Economy in the Gurupi River Region 198 Trade Economies of the Pindare Region 202 Trade Economies in the Grajau' Region 223

CHAPTER IX
Tenetehara Economic System: Recent Developments 240
Tenetehara Internal Economy 252 Production Forces 252 Production Relations 257 Conclusions 266

- CHAPTER X
Conclusion 269

GLOSSARY 280

* BIBLIOGRAPHY 285

BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH 295


viii















LIST OF TABLES


Table 1
Tenetehara Reservations, Indian Posts, and Population 138

Table 2
Infant Mortality Rate of Tenetehara 149

Table 3
Trade Value of Tenetehara Production in 1862 200

Table 4
Tenetehara Sales in 1936 203

Table.5
Prices of Tenetehara Products, 1936-1945 207

Table 6
Prices of Brazilian goods sold to the Tenetehara, 1941-1942,
1945 210

Table 7
Trade Balance of Market Value of Tenetehara Transactions 215

Table 8
Receipts of Purchase and Sale of Lumber, April 1955 228

Table 9
Local Price Offers for Indian Products in 1954 233

Table 10
Prices obtained by the Grajau Agent 235














LIST OF FIGURES


Figure I.
Tenetehara Reservations 3

Figure 2.
Indian Groups in Colonial Times 67

Figure 3.
Tenetehara Migrations in the Nineteenth Century 104

Figure 4.
Hierarchical Levels of Economic Analysis 178

Figure 5.
Network of Traders in the Pindar6 Region 213

Figure 6.
Network of Settlements and Village Areas. 214














Abstract of Dissertation Presented to the Graduate Council
of the University of Florida in Partial Fulfillment of the
Requirements for the Degree of Doctor of Philosophy

THE ETHNIC SURVIVAL OF THE TENETEHARA INDIANS OF MARANHAO, BRAZIL
By

Mercio Pereira Gomes

August 1977

Chairman: Charles Wagley
Major Department: Anthropology

This is a study of the ethnic survival of the Tenetehara Indians of the State of Maranhao, Brazil. The Tenetehara are presently one of the largest Indian groups in Brazil, comprising a total population of about 4,300 people. There are over 40 Tenetehara villages located in five reservation areas in the State of Maranhgo. All of these areas have recently suffered invasions of Brazilian landless peasants. This, along with the aggressive interests of local landowners, has caused a great deal of anxiety on the part of the Tenetehara. They have been helped by the National Foundation for the Indian (FUNAI) in combating this threat to their lands, but the situation is still to be legally solved. In 1975, there was some friction between the Tenetehara and Brazilian peasants and landowners concerning the boundaries of Tenetehara lands and the expulsion of the peasants from these lands. The ownership of land looms as the greatest problem for the continuing existence of the Tenetehara as well as other Indian groups.









This dissertation focuses on the Tenetehara mode of production, of which the land question is but one basic factor. The Tenetehara mode of production is analyzed as an important element for the continuing existence of the Tenetehara ethnic group. This analysis is carried out in both historical and structural terms. The Tenetehara have been in contact with Western civilization for over 350 years. They have suffered but successfully survived the impact of Western diseases, the processes of predation, enslavement, serfdom, and the general dominance of the forming Brazilian society. They have modified their society and culture in order to survive this impact, but in this they have not simply stood as passive recipients. They have also reacted to this impact and in the process they have played a part in shaping the kind of contact relationship they have had with the Brazilian society.

This contact relationship has taken place because of the mutual

need of Brazilians and Tenetehara to obtain goods from each other. In this process the Tenetehara have modified their mode of production, and consequently their society and culture in general, to meet the market demands for their goods. However, they have continued, with some exceptions, to produce for internal consumption, thus keeping the economic basis upon which their ethnic autonomy rests. The process of acculturation and loss of ethnic identification has taken place when the conditions for the continuation of production for internal consumption were superseded by the conditions for production for trade and by the rapid increase of the Brazilian population in the area.

The Tenetehara have survived, and indeed have increased their

population since aboriginal times, becuase they have been able to maintain a distinct mode of production apart from that of the Brazilian









society. The future of the Tenetehara lies in continuing this strategy, a possibility which poses new problems in view of the recent developments of the rural Maranhao society.














CHAPTER I

THE FIELD SITUATION

"Those people are not real Indians! Indians are like the Canella!" This statement was made to me by the commissioner (delegado) of the Sixth Regional Office of the Fundago Nacional do Indio (FUNAI, or National Foundation for the Indian) in Sao Lu{s, state of Maranhao. He was referring to the Tenetehara Indians who are under his jurisdiction. The Tenetehara Indians are known in the region as Guajajara, a Tupi word which means "owner of the feathered head ornament" (wazai-zara in the Tenetehara language). In the state of Parg where there used to be two or three thousand Tenetehara in the nineteenth century (they now number less than 100 people) they are known as Temb6, also a Tupi word meaning "lower-lip"--probably from a kind of lip plug which they formerly used. But the Tenetehara call themselves by this name which, according to Dr. Carl Harrison (personal communication), means "we are the true people" (ten-ete-hara).

Why the Tenetehara, in contrast to the Canella, are not "real Indians" was further explained to me by the commissioner. "They are almost civilized," he said, "well acculturated," in short, "they live just like our caboclos" (Brazilian backwoodsmen). I was told that the Tenetehara spoke fairly good Portuguese, dressed in Brazilian style, and had few "primitive" customs left. They could not even manufacture decent bows and arrows, and their handicraft goods, like necklaces broke









easily because they used cheap mass-produced cotton string instead of the natural fibers that the Canella used.

Being "well acculturated" or leading a life in the manner of the caboclos are more or less synonymous statements, and they had been used to categorize the Tenetehara by two or three anthropologists with whom I had discussed my. project in Brazil. For those anthropologists such statements implied that I was probably wasting my time by going to a field situation in which I would not be able to procure much new data on a society whose culture had already been described (Wagley and Galvao 1949) and was at any rate very "caboclizado" (caboclo-like).

For the commissioner, the assumption that the Tenetehara were caboclizado colored his judgments and feelings about the Tenetehara as his charges. He described them as "troublemakers" (encrengueiros), very unyielding and disobedient. They no longer shared things with one another, and were generally not to be trusted as they themselves trusted. no one, not even their own people and relatives. They were neither Indians nor "civilized" people; they were a mixed breed, sort of cultural mestizos, which in the eyes of the commissioner made them, to put it mildly, a tough lot to administer.

Along with this subjective information I procured some more objective data while still in Sao Luls. According to a FUNAI census, the Tenetehara could now be numbered at some 4,300 people (excluding the Tembe of Para state) living in a vast area that ranged from the municfpios (counties) of Mongao and Pindare-Mirim in Northern Maranhao, south through the municipfos of. Amarante, Grajau, and Barra do Corda. There were now eight Indian Posts (postos indigenas) in these areas exclusively to take care of the Tenetehara. The number of Tenetehara villages had been












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counted in 1975 at approximately 40, which would give us an average of 110 people per village.

This was welcome news for me as I had'come to reexamine the

Tenetehara some 34 years after Charles Wagley, Eduardo Galvao, Nelson Teixeira, and Rubens Meanda first visited the Tenetehara of the Pindare and lower Zutiua Rivers (cf. Wagley and Galv~o 1949; 1961). In view of the prediction in their book that "It is only a question of a generation or so until the Tenetehara become peasants and Brazilians," (1949 edition, page 183) I was frankly expecting a much smaller population, if indeed a separate ethnic group at all!

As I spent more time in the offices of FUNAI in S~o Luis more

disturbing news was presented to me. In all the areas where the Tenetehara lived they were having disputes over land with Brazilian landowners and peasants. By law, land disputes are to be mediated by FUNAI as the legal guardian of Indian lands, but in some areas disputes were attaining proportions of potential armed conflict between the Tenetehara and the peasants or the landowners, as the case might be. Officials of FUNAI in Sao Luis were rather nervous about the recent developments of land disputes in the Indian Post areas of Bacurizinho, Anjico Torto, and Pindar,. The commissioner was busily sending cables to FUNAI headquarters in Brasilia, urging them to take more decisive and authoritative action to bring about an end to these problems. FUNAI was also in permanent contact with the Federal Police in Sao Luis in the eventuality of an armed conflict between Tenetehara and Brazilians. There was fear of genocidal warfare on the part of the peasants, and there was fear of Tenetehara guerilla warfare in all-iance with the G speaking Krikati and Gavilo Indians, as was rumored to have happened in the Anjico Torto area.





5



The intervention of the Federal Police would be called upon in case of aggression from stubborn Brazilian peasants who refused to leave Tenetehara land or Tenetehara who decided to resolve the matter on their own and expel the peasants. The job of the Federal Police would be to evacuate the invaders and keep them from getting in trouble.

In the meantime, the commissioner talked one day with a Tenetehara capitol (officially appointed headman), the next with a disgruntled landowner or peasant who claimed to have a stake in the supposed Tenetehara land. Each disputant would present his claims with a certain amount of deference due a high official of the governmentand with a high amount of defensiveness and assurance of the righteousness of his claim. The Brazilians often complained of the Tenetehara doing some mischief to their cattle or crops. In many of these cases, the Brazilians seemed to be gaining the commissioner's conviction that they were correct in their claim as they often were in possession of a land title duly certified and notorized in the cart6rios (record offices) of the municlpio where the disputed land was located. And the Tenetehara most often had only their word that some years back an SPI (Servico de Protego aos Indios--Indian Protection Service, the government agency that preceded FUNAI until late 1967) official had demarcated their land and set the limits with the concurrence of all the neighboring parties in question. The commissioner himself had copies of these land limitation settlements from SPI times but there was some doubt as to proper limits due to inexact legal descriptions used in the land settlements. Furthermore, as he had assumed his post in Sgo Lufs just six months previously, and therefore knew neither the Tenetehara nor their lands to an intimate degree, he was rather prone to believe that the Tenetehara were trying to








get the better of him. In one case where he had met with a large number of Tenetehara assembled at an Indian Post to discuss land limits, he had come out much impressed by the accuity of the Indians' knowledge of the limits to lands which had been granted to them twenty or more years back; on the other hand, he was unsure of their veracity. As a former SPI Indian agent used to announce publicly, "If it were by the Indians' account every piece of land in the state of Maranhao would belong to them."

Amidst the hustle and bustle of some 20 employees in the small

offices of FUNAI, I met a young woman who was in charge of the education program for the Indians of Maranh~o. She was the one who showed me the statistics on Indian populations, maps of the Indian areas" and she took her time to let me know that she was very happy that I had come to study the Tenetehara. The Tenetehara, she told me, were a great, friendly people, always amusing themselves with jokes, hard working, somewhat "disorganized," but intelligent and cunning, no one's fool; and they deserved to have an anthropologist come and live with them to know more about them--as the Canella have had for many years now. Furthermore, she told me that the Tenetehara were misunderstood by everyone who came in contact with them, including the high officials of FUNAI. Consequently the Tenetehara were always being neglected by FUNAI and looked upon as a nuisance. She was proud to say that the Tenetehara, against all odds, held their own as an ethnic group with a native language, customs, and worldview. And moreover, they wanted to continue to be a separate ethnic group, and only in this way become incorporated into the "national community."









The education program for which she was responsible had been started in 1972 when a Summer Institute of Linguistics linguist-missionary wrote a series of primers in Portuguese and Tenetehara, and FUNAI had decided to institute a bilingual education program for the Tenetehara, as they were doing for other Brazilian Indian groups. The program consisted of the training of bilingual teachers, or monitores, who were selected among the Tenetehara for their potential for learning how to read, write, and teach in both Portuguese and the Tenetehara languages. This period of training had started in the dry season of 1972 (June-November), and she had so far spent a total of nine months (in three yearly periods of three months) training some 40 Tenetehara to go back to their villages and begin teaching. Of the 40 students, nineteen had shown sufficient ability, learned the proper method, and were ready to begin work. In fact, many of them had already been teaching since late 1974 but so far they had not received a penny for their work, and had consequently stopped the classes. She was now, as she had been ever since she took on this job, fighting the FUNAI bureaucracy to release the money to pay the monitores and to continue with the program. These monitores had the equivalent of the Brazilian third grade education, and they were eager to get more education to be able to finish the equivalent of elementary school. There was, therefore, a need for more training. Moreover, according to personal reports from the teachers, she said that the classes that had been held were received most eagerly by Tenetehara of all ages. The complaints had been only that they had not had enough, that the teachers had not been paid, and that the promised school lunch had never been delivered.

I could not help but feel instant liking for this hard-working young








woman who was so enthusiastic about the Tenetehara. As I observed the way other employees moved about, she appeared to be an odd cog in the wheels of bureaucracy. They treated her with misgivings and in some cases, rather callously. As I found out later her salary was among the lowest salaries paid in all of FUNAI, superior only to the salaries of janitors, office boys, and manual workers, and lower even than the salaries that the Tenetehara monitores that she had helped train were supposed to get.

As I talked to her I found out that one of these Tenetehara monitores was going to arrive in Sao Luis in a couple of days. He was one of the few respected Tenetehara capit~es for his good command of Portuguese, his grasp of what was going on in the land dispute in his own area, and for his way of getting things done with the commissioner. I was told that his village was located in the upper Mearim River, municfpio of Graja'U, in an area which was not only centrally located in terms of Tenetehara territory, but was also having hotly contested disputes with neighboring Brazilians. Not quite a month had passed since some Tenetehara had supposedly slapped mud on the face of an ornery Brazilian landowner who had insulted and threatened the Indians to leave "his" land. This could be the best place for me and my wife, she said, because his village was fairly well "organized," with little or no competition between family groups because of his strong leadership. There was an Indian Post nearby and no missionaries in the area, two factors which in her mind would facilitate fieldwork and quick rapport with the villagers. Above all, in that area the Tenetehara still retained certain old customs, such as the girls' initiation rites, and they had been talking of performing the Honey Feast, the most beautiful and touching of the







Tenetehara social rituals (cf. Wanley and Galvao 1949:122-125). And finally, from there I could travel to a more "acculturated" area to the east, and to the least acculturated Tenetehara area to the northwest. I agreed. I would wait and talk to the capitol about staying in his village.

But to return to my first experiences in Sao Lu's, as I had first

walked into the front yard of the FUNAI office, I had noticed a small man with a copper brown complexion sitting in a chair, arms folded across his lap, and with stooped shoulders, in an attitude of dismay arid indifference. He looked about 55 to 60 years old, as far as I could tell. lie was dressed in a short-sleeved white cotton shirt and dark cotton pants, both of which had patches in several places and the underarm seam was ripped. He was very quiet, barely nodding agreement when addressed by people around him. Upon asking I was told that he was a Tenetehara named Manuel1 from Anjico Torto, an area which was having considerable trouble in terms of land invasion by Brazilian peasants. Manuel had been sent up to S~o Luis by the Indian Post agent of his area to be "disciplined." Apparently he had lost his temper over the fact that a Brazilian peasant was livinq on Tenetehara land, and he had gone to this man's place, killed one of his pigs and threatened to kill him too if he didn't "get the hell out" of Indian land. The Indian agent, though sympathetic with Manuel's feelings, had decided that a talk with the commissioner, a higher authority than he, was necessary to cool him off.

"Lucky break," I thought to myself excitedly for here was the first Brazilian Indian I had ever seen. I went up to Manuel, greeted him, and asked if I could come up and see him this evening. He was going to

IThe names of all Tenetehara informants have been changed to preserve their anonymity.









stay in the Casa do Indio (Indian House), a kind of hostel owned and run by FUNAI that lodges Indians who come to Sio LuTs for medical treatment or other business. A FUNAI jeep was ordered to take Manuel to his place and as our hotel was nearby in the downtown area we hopped in for the ride.

That evening my wife and I walked the three blocks of narrow and winding paved streets of downtown Sao Luls, and knocked on the door of a freshly painted green house that, like all downtown Sao Lugs houses, was separated from the street only by a three foot wide sidewalk. A Brazilian woman peeped through the door view and told us there was no Indian by the name of Manuel there. As I insisted that I had permission from FUNAI to come there another woman came up to the door and recognized me. She was a FUNAI nurse in charge of the health and treatment of the Indians who came there. We were led into what could be called the TV room: a portable TV was turned on, and two plastic-covered couches were placed on either side of it. The room smelled musty, as though it never got any fresh air. One husky Indian wearing prescription glasses, who I somehow sensed to be a Canella, was talking to some young children whom the Brazilian women were trying to put to bed. These children were two three year old girls, a seven year old and two adolescent boys. They were all Guaja Indians, one of the last remaining hunting and gathering tribes that speaks a Tupi language. They had been brought to Sao Lufs two or three years before. Two Guaja bands had been encountered somewhere on the Caru River and these children, along with two or three adults who later died, had contracted intestinal and pulmonary diseases. Their health was improving, but they were always recovering from occasional colds and diarrhea. Their diet was being








watched as well as, in the case of the boys, their sexual behavior and demeanor. The little girls were much appreciated and loved by all around them. They had been given Brazilian names and were being taught Portuguese: words like mam~e (mommy) and titia (auntie), etc. The boys were rather morose and steadfastly refused to speak Portuguese or talk to anyone but each other or one or another Tenetehara or Urubu-Kaapor Indian who resided in the Indian House.

Manuel was laying in a hammock in one of the rooms where the Indians were lodged. Someone went to fetch him as we were led into the dining room where there was a table, chairs and buffet. Manuel came into the dining room and as we were sitting'down we were joined by another Tenetehara Indian, Celestino, also from Manuel's village. Celestino called Manuel "cump" Manuel (from compadre, Portuguese for cofather), but he seemed to be acting more deferential to Manuel than the term "cump5" implies, perhaps because of the age factor. Celestino had come to Sao Lui's for an operation on a tumor that had grown on his back and for other minor ailments.

Our conversation began by my relating to them that I was not working for FUNAI and that I wanted to visit their village and learn about their way of life. They looked at me rather intently, with only an occasional nod or grunt as if to let me know that they were listening and wanted to hear the next utterance. We smoked and then we began talking about the land question and then Manuel's eyes were sparkling and he began to tell me why he had killed the karaiw's ("white man" in Tenetehara) pig. The karaiw had shot Manuel's brother one year ago leaving a widow and two orphans. He had also killed Manuel's grandmother at an unspecified time and through unspecified means. He had been taken to Amarante, the








municipio's seat where he had been jailed and badly beaten. But then he was released and had returned to Indian land and now Manuel wanted to kill him. When I mentioned that if he killed this man he would likewise leave a family without a father to support them, Manuel just retorted, "That's how it is

Manuel said where they live there used to be no Brazilians, except

one or two families, until two years ago when a road construction company bought a large area of land to the east of the Indian land and began to build a road right through the edge of the land from the town of Grajau to a Brazilian village called Arame, where there used to be a Tenetehara village. Then the caboclos started to come there in search of land, and-as all other land belonged to this company or established landowners, they had just settled on Indian land. There were about 6,000 families, I was told, with land cleared all around and settlements growing up by the day. Manuel said that game which used to be abundant was runni.ng away. from all the bustle and noise. The Indians were being pushed further back into the jungle, he felt.

But if I would come there I was going to like it for there was still plenty of game and an abundance (fartura) of produce (legumes): manioc, maize, yams, sweet potatoes, beans, fava beans, "everything you needed." Celestino said there was a big lake there, called Lago Branco, which was enchanted (encantado). You could hear dogs barking at night and once a flock of jandaia parrots had been seen flying over it and then to disappear into the waters. That is where the Tenetehara go hunting in the dry season to get meat to barbacue for the girls' initiation rite. Celestino and Manuel were longing for their land, to return to their families.









The next day we met Alberto, the minitor-capit~o of Bacurizinho

who had come to bring the commissioner a document to prove that the land in dispute had been bought by the SPI from a landowner in 1959, and therefore was Indian's land. He was a short, bulky man with a fat belly the like of which I have never seen on any other Indian. He had a drooping "Genghis Khan" moustache (another unique trait as most Tenetehara who sport moustaches prefer the 1940s "Clark Gable" style), a potentially heavy beard, squarish face and head, medium brown eyes with a slight epicanthic fold, and two of his lower incisors were missing, while two upper teeth were decorated with gold.

His personality was different, it seemed to me, from the personalities of the other two Tenetehara I had talked to in the Indian House. He listened attentively but with a touch of nonchalance, and answered in moderate tones, always observing how you would react. He was very proficient in Portuguese and could easily pick up on innuendoes and ironic statements. He knew how to be ironic or sarcastic and could also make direct critical statements to people, in this case, keeping a straight, serious face. If what he said was laughed at or challenged as of doubtful validity, he would look down to his feet or hands (if he was sitting), and mutter something like "Well, if you say so . " If someone made him laugh he would do so heartily or moderately as the occasion demanded.

Alberto had a way of prevailing upon some of the FUNAI functionaries, even the commissioner, that left them always with a bitter aftertaste. He was a bully in one case, and slightly cajoling in the other. He knew it and figured that he might as well keep doing it as long as it worked. He looked in his prime, about 36 years old and on the rise.









Alberto told me that he had been capitao of Bacurizinho since 1963 when a former SPI commissioner had appointed him as such. (Actually his appointment was made in 1973 although in 1963 he had been given the obscure task of taking care of a non-existent, Indian Post.) Previously his father had been the capitgo of Bacurizinho, but he had died in 1958 of intestinal or pulmonary diseases ("he used to smoke a lot of marijuana"). From 1958 to 1963 Bacurizinho had been "governed" by a council of adult men in lieu of a strong man that would lead the village. Now Bacurizinho was well ruled, well organized and disciplined. It had some 500 people, he said. As it turned out it had about 290 people which nonetheless places Bacurizinho as the largest Tenetehara village on record.

Yes, I could come and live there with my wife and learn how to

speak the Tenetehara language. We could take the bus Saturday night or Sunday morning to Graja', do some shopping there Monday and then go to Bacurizinho the next day by renting a pick-up truck that would take us to the nearby Indian Post.

Everything was pretty much decided and as a conclusion to our interview I asked him about kinship terms and got the uneasy picture that the Tenetehara had a mixture of lineal and bifurcate merging systems in the first ascending generation and a Hawaiian in ego's own generation. Wagley and Galvao (1949) had reported a bifurcate merging system--but at that moment I could not dispute the word of a principal informant. And at any rate, I was asking him questions not so much to gather ethnographic data, but only to get his view of the general situation. I was wary of what people were telling me and not ready to trust anyone in particular. I was.going to check everything out for myself, an attitude which came quite naturally under these circumstances. It was only








months later that I was able to confirm or dismiss the veracity of someone's information. In some cases I was pleasantly surprised to find that so and so's view of a situation had been truthfully stated or at least not purposely misstated. As a rule, it now seems to me, factual or analytically correct information was obtained only after the first month of my stay in the state of Maranhao--both from Tenetehara as well as Brazilian informants. It was necessary for me to have a certain amount of previous knowledge of a particular situation in order to get a complete picture of it. Whether because the problems I wanted to learn about were themselves unclear or controversial, such as the land question, ethnohistory, inter-ethnic relations, economic organization, and a changing social structure, or because of the character of my informants, the methodology I found most suitable was the dialogue, and in some cases, the debate. In either case the positions I took were generally consistent with my views whether I was talking to a Brazilian landowner about the land question or the Tenetehara about cosmological views. Straight data interviewing was done only in the case of demographical statistics.

Having been raised in a rural area of Brazil similar to that of interior Maranhao, I felt I had an advantage in that I have a similar Portuguese accent and had a certain "instinct" that would help present myself as an anthropologist without raising undue suspicion and lack of cooperation. Nevertheless it took some time before people in the town of Graja6 stopped addressing me as if I were a "paulista" (from Sao Paulo State) or "mineiro" (from Minas Gerais State) capitalist in search of land to buy. And on one occasion when I was stranded at the crossroads of a highway half sick with malaria and had to stay in the "hotel"








of a cearense (from Ceara State) jack-of-all-trades I never was able to convince this man that I was not a Federal Police investigator. Land buyers and undercover police, therefore, were apparently what the Brazilians were seeing the most of in those times. On the positive side, being an anthropologist and not a sociologist was what saved me from potential trouble when I was questioned by a Federal Police captain investigating the marijuana traffic of the area. He reasoned that sociology had something to do with socialism, while anthropologists are interested in innocuous things, like dances, rituals, and artifacts.

Among the Tenetehara, in the villages of Bacurizinho and Ipu, I

was fairly quickly accepted as a FUNAI employee of sorts. My position was enhanced when I participated in the meetings in Grajai arranged by FUNAI to mediate on the land question between the Tenetehara of the Bacurizinho Indian Post and a nearby landowner. There was a problem in interpreting the phraseology of a deed of agreement made in 1959 between. the SPI and an in-law of this landowner, and I was able to persuade the commissioner that the said landowner was trying to misinterpret the original deed. The good news of my taking a stance in favor of the Tenetehara soon spread among them, and that helped me when I began to question them about their ethnohistory. They became eager to tell me how they have been losing ground to the karaiw and how now it was time for them to take a stronger posture, if only FUNAI would be of some help.

Throughout the five months of field research (between July and

December, 1975) in four of the five Tenetehara reservation areas the situation was one of constant expectation that something drastic might break out. Eventually it did in the Anjico Torto Indian Post area where there wasa large number (perhaps as many as 2,000 families) of Brazilian








peasants settled on Indian land. In February, 1975, FUNAI had given these peasants until September to harvest their manioc and rice crops and pack up and leave. By the middle of November most of them had left either on their own or coerced by the Federal Police, but some stubborn families had remained, spurred on by local politicians and landowners, in the hope that the Tenetehara would relinquish or lose their claim. Finally the Indian Post agent, an extraordinarily energetic and fearless defender of the Tenetehara rights to their lands and way of life, had gathered some twenty or thirty Tenetehara men and driven to the invaded area to give a final notice of evacuation to the remaining peasant invaders. But one man and his son refused to budge and threatened to kill the agent if he did not leave immediately. Somehow the agent got a hold of the man's gun and was wrestling it away from him when the man's son came up from behind and managed to stick the point of a knife into the agent's back before he was pulled back. The Tenetehara immediately jumped on the two peasants and reportedly beat them to a pulp. The agent was taken to an airstrip and was flown to S~o Luis where he soon recovered from the wound.

Rumors and counter rumors of imminent attacks and further killing spread from both sides, leaving the whole area in more tension. But by the end of December only one more killing had been perpetrated by the Tenetehara. (I have not subsequently been able to gain any further news of this situation.) At the time of my departure in late December no Tenetehara had been brought to trial and it is unlikely that any ever will by virtue of their special immunity as wards of the Federal government. The peasants, at any rate, in most other situations as well, seemed to lack the benefit of a juridicial system.








Having come to Maranhjo expecting only a few Tenetehara to be still living as an ethnic group apart from the Brazilian society, I found, on the contrary, a growing population of Tenetehara who had become conscious of their ethnic identification, particularly in terms of holding their land. This was an experience which soon made me change not only previous notions of Tenetehara acculturation but also my views on the supposed inevitability of other Indian groups' ethnic extinction. Throughout the year 1975 several Indian groups had in various ways rebelled against their historical fate of miscengenation and ethnic extinction. The Xavante in the state of Mato Grosso, the Xokleng and Kaingang in Southern Brazil as well as the Tenetehara were making news almost weekly for their concerted action in protecting their respective lands. In most cases reported, the protection of their lands seemed to be the rallying cry against Brazilian encroachment.














CHAPTER II

THE TENETEHARA IN THE MODERN WORLD


These first impressions of my encounter with a few Tenetehara

Indians convey a sense of how an anthropologist approaches a confusing situation for field research. Further introductory information, however, is necessary before I can properly state the problem of this dissertation. One must understand the traditional relationship of the Tenetehara Indians with their Brazilian neighbors and the changing nature of these social and economic ties. Fundamental to the changing situation of the Tenetehara Indians is their dependency upon the increasing power of Brazilian governmental agencies, especially the National Foundation for the Indian (FUNAI), in the region. Furthermore, related to both the Indian and FUNAI is the rapid encroachment of modern agricultural and cattle raising enterprises into the region. This chapter will therefore focus upon these relationships, bureaucratic agencies, and the new economic trends in the region. The basic problem, as stated earlier, is the struggle for land in which the Indian, their Brazilian peasant neighbors, the governmental agencies, and the new capitalistic agricultural and cattle enterprises participate.



Indians and Brazilians

In the first place, the personalities of Manuel and Celestino can be analyzed in terms of their individual knowledge of, and position








relative to, the Brazilian society. Although they do not cover the whole continuum, Manuel and Celestino are representative of the vast majority of the Tenetehara people. They live mainly through their production in hunting, fishing, and agriculture--which activities are carried out by nuclear family, or extended family, groups (see Chapters VI, VII and VIII). With the surplus from these activities as well as from the extraction of forest products and recently the manufacture Of crafts, they enter into relations with the Brazilian society via a trade economy. In turn they obtain the necessary goods, such as for example iron implements, clothes, kerosene, guns, gun powder, and flash lights without which life-would be too uncomfortable. They may also occasionally hire themselves out as day laborers to Brazilian peasants or big landowners. Both the trade economy and the hire of one's labor involve a kind of social relationship which I call patron-clientship. This relationship entails a system of credit granted by the patron to his clients and the obligation of the client to do business with the creditor-patron. Credit is usually extended in the form of commodities, as most patrons are al:so owners of trade stores, but it can be in cash as well. Socially it entails the subordination of the client to his patron; this subordination is expressed in the low profile of Tenetehara behavior in Brazilian towns and the patronizing attitude of the patrons toward their clients both in the towns and in their visits to Tenetehara villages.

The difference between Manuel and Celestino is that the former is older (about 55 years of age) and hence less productive. He therefore has a more restricted sphere of relations with Brazilians, and hence less reason to relate to them, to know about them beyond the pragmatic aspects of the patron-client relationship. People like Manuel tend to be









conservative-minded as far as ethnic identification is concerned. When friction between Brazilians and Tenetehara arises they provide the leadership of Tenetehara reaction to Brazilians, whether or not this reaction manifests itself individually or through concerted action.

Celestino, on the other hand, is a middle age man of about 35 years which is, in fact, the most productive years of a man's life. He is at a point in his life when he must createa kin group of his own principally by marrying off his sons and daughters and keeping them under his control. Therefore he desires to have more of the Brazilian goods in order to pave his way to the status of head of an independent extended family. Thus people like Celestino tend to form larger networks of interaction with Brazilians and tend to know more of Brazilian ways. They are more flexible and less entrenched in their ethnic identification, perhaps having in mind the possibility that they may have to leave their village and live like a Brazilian peasant, at least for a time. People like Celestino are considered "good Indians" by Brazilians as opposed to people like Manuel who are viewed as "bad Indians."

In addition to the Manuels and Celestinos there is another main

type of Tenetehara man, the young married man. These men are structurally under the control of older men as heads of extended family groups. Even those young married men who, for demographic reasons, are not part of an extended family group, but live and produce their means of subsistence by the nuclear family arrangement, are nevertheless dependent upon the control of the rest of the society, i.e., the middle aged and older adult males. This control is expressed internally in how a particular village organizes communal projects, such as the moving of the village to another site, and externally by the way the Brazilians relate to them.









That is, Brazilians relate to them with the assumption that they can only rely on them through the sanction of the older men of the village. This sanction occurs in the form of the trust and reliability in which the older men, "responsible" for the young men, are held by the Brazilians.

In fact, the vast majority of the Tenetehara including the women irrespective of age, are generally treated by Brazilians as Indians who can be manipulated by dint of small favors and concessions which are granted in the process of ordering them-around and making them feel that they are under the power of the Brazilian society. This type of sOcial relationship, which will be analyzed historically in the next chapter, is essentially the same type which FUNAI uses in relating to the Tenetehara.

These social relations are changing somewhat, and this change has been brought about by the recent economic developments in the Tenetehara regions. These changes are epitomized in the problem of land invasions and the inability of FUNAI as the 'big patron" to solve it. The Tenetehara still feel that FUNAI should be their mediator in relation to this problem, but they no longer feel that they must accept the dictates of FUNAI, such as that of conceding portions of their land to effect a compromise and save FUNAI from national embarrassment. They demand of FUNAI the legal protection of their land, and some political support (e.g., the military support of the Federal Police), but the Indians themselves are willing to provide the grass roots protective measures such as attempting to prevent invaders on reservation land. This is a new attitude of consciousness of their problems as an ethnic group separate from the national society, and consciousness of the role which they must play in order to keep their separate identity.









This attitude is also reflected in the relations with local

Brazilians, particularly now that the credit basis of patron-clientship is being superseded by the appearance of credit agencies, such as the National Institute of Colonization and Land Reform (INCRA) and the Bank of Brazil, as the most important source of credit to Brazilian peasants. Local Brazilian store owners and compradores are no longer capable of providing the Tenetehara with credit, as before, because they themselves are now debtors to these credit agencies and cannot spare the meager liquid capital that they have because of the long term arrangement of accountability that is inherent in the patron-client credit system. Thus relations between Brazilians and Tenetehara are becoming more "business-like," as economic transactions take the form of transfer of commodities for cash and vice versa, rather than commodities for commodities. Moreover, all transactions are being carried out at one time, not stretched over a indeterminate period of time. Consequently, there is no economic basis for Brazilians and Tenetehara to interact in a superordinate-subordinate form as in the patron-client relationship.2 Thus, as far as the Brazilians are concerned, the Tenetehara are becoming more suspicious, less trustworthy, and even haughty in their socioeconomic relations with them. And in the eyes of the Tenetehara, the Brazilians are no longer patrons, or potential patrons, but only covetous people who want the Indians lands, and their labor and labor products for cheap prices without the former benefits of small economic consessions.


2This is not to say that a capitalist type of economic relations brings about the equality of unequal producers of capital and unequal sharers of the body politic. The inequality that comes from capitalist relations is, however, of a different kind, and they have not quite taken form in the area.








And as the Brazilians do not provide them with credit, they are resented even more for their supposed greed and lack of patronage.

The behavior of Alberto, the third of my early acquaintances among the Tenetehara, is a positive example of the new form of social relations that are arising from the dissolution of patron-clientship and the land problem. Resentment, suspicion, and impersonal transactions are translated into a relationship with Brazilians which involves the demand for more equanimity of treatment. Alberto is, of'course, an acknowledged leader, or capitao, of his village, and also a man capable of some influence in other villages nearby. He is also one of the nineteen monitores, or bilingual teachers, who are drawing a federal salary in the order of cr$1,200.00 per month (or U.S. $150.00 as of July, 1975). This brings with it the necessary cash for immediate purchases. Furthermore, his knowledge of Portuguese and of Brazilian society puts him in a position to challenge through Brazilian law the claims of Brazilian landowners and peasants to Tenetehara lands, as well as the patronizing claims of former patrons of having been "good" to the Tenetehara and therefore deserving of patron-like treatment. Alberto presses the same type of challenge against FUNAI, and he and a few people like him have been relatively successful in this new stance.

Tenetehara like Alberto are few in number. Most of the nineteen monitores who could be in such a position are rather young married men (there is one young woman) who cannot command the kind of respect from Brazilians that Alberto gets. But of the six or seven other Tenetehara in this position at least four are also monitores, although not capitaes of their villages. The other two are leaders of large extended families who, from 1972 to 1974, were earning quite a lot of money from the production








and sale of craft goods which were in great demand in the national market. In short, like Alberto, these Tenetehara make a living more through a salary or craft trade than through the production of an agricultural surplus. In fact, most of the nineteen monitores and five or six Tenetehara craft dealers did not even plant gardens in the years 1973 and 1974.

Nevertheless, the fact that these "respected" Tenetehara do not utilize the resources of the land to the same extent as their fellow tribesmen does not place them in a position to compromise the demands of Tenetehara land claims. In fact, partly because their economic position (salaried federal employees and craft dealers) is a result of their being Indians, partly because they know what it means to be a landless Brazilian peasant, and finally because of pressure from their fellow Tenetehara, these people became the spokesmen for Tenetehara land claims. And, in a larger sense, they are also leaders for Tenetehara claim to remain a viable society, a positive alternative to becoming landless peasants or rural proletarians. Consequently, while their fellow Tenetehara upset the Brazilians and FUNAI through their individual or concerted actions of aggressive behavior, these respected Tenetehara present themselves as leaders capable of redirecting these actions towards more peaceful resolutions. It should be pointed out that the commissioner as well as two or three local landowners had tried without success to buy off several of these Indian spokesmen by offering them money to persuade their fellow tribesmen to give up portions of their lands. On the other hand, in the area of the Anjico Torto Indian Post, in a village which lacked this kind of leadership, a large cattle company peacefully succeeded in convincing this village to let a road be cut








right through the middle of it, thus alienating some of the village's land which previously belonged to the reservation area of Ararib6ia, of which this Indian Post is a part.



Indians and FUNAI

The role of FUNAI as mediator between Tenetehara and Brazilians will be analyzed historically in.the next chapter. However, it may be germane in this introductory chapter to describe how FUNAI functions in terms of its internal structure. To begin with, when I speak of FUNAI in general terms I mean the general policy and actions of the Brazilian government toward the Tenetehara whether it is determined directly by the headquarters of FUNAI in Brasilia, or the Regional Offices, or the agents in the Indian Posts.

FUNAI is the agency of Brazilian Indian policy. It is supposed to formulate this policy and implement it on the regional and local levels. FUNAI was created, after the dissolution of the SPI, or Servigo de ProteqSo aos Indios (Indian Protection Service) by Law Number 5.371 of December '5, 1967 which set out the guidelines for the formation of this agency as distinct from the previous structure of the SPI. In 1972 the Regulamento Interno, or by-laws, and the general terms of Indian policy had been formulated and approved by the Ministry of the Interior.

FUNAI is under the jurisdiction of the Ministery of the Interior,

the secretariat level of the executive branch of the Brazilian government which is in charge of regulating the sale of national lands and creating programs of colonization and/or exploitation of these lands. Since these national lands are essentially the lands where the Indians live, FUNAI is in a rather paradoxical position as far as its claim to protect









the right of the Indians to full possession and usufruct of their lands is concerned. In numerous cases FUNAI has actually served the Brazilian government and the interests of private individuals and companies rather than the interest of the Indians by persuading the latter to disclaim possession of their territory or by simply removing Indian groups to other areas of less value or outside the orbit of economic and political interests. In every area where Indians live and which is considered national land, FUNAI functions in this paradoxical position.

As a bureaucracy FUNAI constitutesa structure of hierarchical levels of.decision making, management, and policy carriers. This structure can be described in brief terms. The highest level of decision making is constituted by the president of FUNAI, the Council of Curators (five members)and the Council of Indigenous Affairs (seven members), all of whom are appointed by the President of the Republic as recommended by the Minister of the Interior. The former council is in charge, among other things, of "assessing the acts of acquisition and alienation of the fixed assets of the Foundation [FUNAI]" (cf. FUNAI's "Legislago" 1975:38, art 10, para. 11, section 1. The description of FUNAI presented here is taken from this publication.). The latter council is in charge of creating Indian policy.

The second level is formed by the General Administration (SA), the Organs of Assessment (OA), which are in charge of juridical and security matters, and the Planning and Coordinating Junta (JPC)--all of which are presided over by the President of FUNAI. The JPC is formed by the directors of the following management departments: (1) the General Department of Operations (DG) under which are the regional executive units, i.e., the Regional Offices (delegacias), the Sub-Regional Offices








(ajudancias), and the Indian Parks (parques indigenas); (2) the General Department of Indian Patrimony (DGPI) which is in charge of surveying and demarcating Indian lands; (3) the General Department of Administration (DGA) which is in charge of allocating moneys and creating new positions; and (4) the General Department of Community Planning (DGPC) which is in charge of promoting anthropological research and developmental programs in Indian communities. Of these departments the DGO and DGA are the most powerful because the first appoints the personnel at the regional level, and the second because it controls the disposal of monies and positions.

At the regional level are the Regional Offices of which there are nine, three Sub-Regional Offices which are subordinated to the Regional Offices, and four Indian Parks. The latter are areas where the Indian population has only recently been contacted and where there is need of closer attention from FUNAI both in terms of protective measures in contact situations with the local segments of the national society and in terms of medical assistance and immunological programs in the case of epidemics and infectuous diseases.

Under the Regional Offices are the Indian Posts, which are the lowest level at which policy is carried out. The Indian Posts are administered by a chefe, or agent, who had some theoretical training in anthropology and administration in a three month course given in Brazilia, sponsored by FUNAI. A Post should also have a enfermeiro, or practical nurse, who is in charge of the Indians' health conditions. He or she is trained to implement sanitary conditions in Indian villages, to apply topical treatment, and to diagnose illnesses and prescribe medication for their cure. Each Post is equipped with a pharmacy containing medicines








of the sort that the enfermeiro is likely to use, such as I.V. sorum, medicine against intestinal parasites, cough syrups, and, the most common cure-all, antibiotics. Finally, a Post also has a trabalhador bragal, or manual worker, who is given the task of tending the patrimony of the Post whether it is cattle, orchards, or vegetable gardens.

The salaries of FUNAI functionaries are well above the national

average of salaries for equivalent positions. A commissioner earns at least US $1,250.00 (cr$10,000.00 as of July, 1975) per month, an agent about US $550.00, an enfermeiro about US $150.00, and a manual worker about US $90.00. Other employees in the Regional Offices earn salaries ranging from US $150.00 to about US $900.00. It should be pointed out that the lowest salary of those quoted here, all of which are monthly salaries, represents the equivalent of twice the monthly minimum wage as currently paid in the State of Maranhao. These relatively high salaries are presented here to dispel any ideas that the incompetency of FUNAI in the regional level is a result of corruption, due to low salaries.

What is important to note in the structure of FUNAI bureaucracy is that the Regional Offices, which are in charge of actually carrying out the act of demarcating Indian lands, are under the Department of General Operations/Department of Indian Patrimony (DGO). Thus when the Sixth Regional Office in Sao Luis attempts to survey and demarcate Tenetehara lands it must apply to the DGO in Brasilia to get the budget and to the DGPI to get permission to undertake the project. The DGPI sets the guidelines of a demarcation project and passes the project to the DGO which then forwards it back to the Sao Luis Office. The concatenation of these bureaucratic operations is very difficult to bring about, and in the








final analysis it is the DGO which tries to organize everything by itself. Frequently the DGO sends a representative to an area with a problem to determine ways in which to settle the dispute when the Sao Luis Office has already contacted everyone concerned in the dispute and has been acting upon it in an entirely differentmanner. That only brings about confusion in the minds of the Tenetehara, the agents of Posts and the Brazilians involved in the dispute, including the Federal Police.

Suffice it to say that in 1959 the reservation area of Bacurizinho was demarcated by the SPI, but, with a subsequent challenge of this demarcation by a local landowner in 1970, FUNAI had not been capable of finalizing the legalization of this area as national patrimony as of the end of 1975. The Tenetehara of this area, whose situation was not nearly as bad as that of the areas of Anjico Torto and Pindar', were rather anxious about their future and very critical of FUNAI.



Indians and the New Economic Developments

What is so crucial in the land question for the future of the Tenetehara is that forest lands in Maranh~o have recently become a high priced commodity. Medium and large size capitalist enterprises have been coming to Maranhjo to buy tracts of land that range from 20,000 to 500,000 acres, or even larger. When these enterprises began to arrive in 1971 they could buy an acre of land for as little as US $3.00. By 1975 the market price of land had shot up to US $20.00 to $30.00 per acre. By that year there were few large local landowners who had not already sold most of their lands. In the process they had displaced hundreds of peasant families who had been living as squatters or sharecroppers working for a share of the landowners' cattle and agricultural production.








And now these landowners were coercing the small independent peasants to sell their lands for a low price so that they could resell it with a profit to the incoming capitalists.

The result of this process of the rise of capitalism in rural

M~ranhao was doubly detrimental to the Tenetehara. First because there are now thousands of peasants invading or ready to invade Tenetehara lands, and second because the patron-client credit system upon which the Tenetehara had relied for over one hundred years is rapidly crumbling.

From a perspective of the economic development of rural Maranh~o, it seems clear that the more efficient techniques of cattle raising and rice cultivation characteristic of these new capitalist enterprises will soon displace the local mode of production based on peasant techniques of cultivation and cattle raising, on patron-client relationships, and on.a small margin of profit.3

Both the new capitalists as well as the displaced landless peasants believe that the Indians are a barrier to economic development. They believe that the Indians are inefficient in the utilization of their supposed vast lands and they realize that the Indians do not even pay taxes like everyone else. These feelings caused a great deal of anxiety among the Tenetehara not only because they are not able to dispute these arguments, but also because they realize that these arguments represent a potential threat to them, as an ideology of land seizure.

In short, the situation of the Tenetehara in 1975 was troublesome and-one of potential conflict. The land question was a problem which needed to be urgently solved. It symbolized to the Tenetehara their


3Cf. Velho 1976 for an analysis of the mode of production of a similar area in the State of Parg.





32


very existence and future. They consequently blamed most of their problems and anxieties on it. The Tenetehara claimed that they were not producing enough food for themselves because they were insecure about their lands, when the problem was rather that they had neglected their agricultural production to work on craft production for sale.

But it was because of land problems that they were being rallied together into a new, strong bond of cohesion, particularly between villages which traditionally had functioned as independent political units. And they were planning to revive their social rituals with a new, defiant pride in their Indian heritage. For example, the ceremonies for the girls' initiation rites performed in the villages of Bacurizinho, Ipu, Anjico Torto, and Cururu were much more elaborated and traditional than they had been when Wagley and Galv~o (1949:81-87) visited the Tenetehara in the early 1940s. Twelve Tenetehara, led by the capit~h of Anjico Torto had come from their village located as far away as 100 km in order to participate in one of these ceremonies performed in the village of Ipu.

Thus, there were both personal (as in the case of Alberto's attitude to the Brazilians) and social symbols for what Barth (1969) called "the formation of ethnic boundaries." Given the objective conditions existing between Brazilians and Tenetehara, one can refer to this process as the raising of consciousness of ethnic identification. This process does not entail the preclusion of acceptance of Brazilian cultural traits. The Tenetehara continued to dress in Brazilian style, to buy guns, salt, kerosene, soap; they were eager to have radios, wrist watches, and other manufactured goods; they wanted to play soccer, to hold Brazilian style dances, and to learn how to read and write in both Portuguese and Tenetehara.








They recognized that these traits and objects are Brazilian and therefore that they were dependent upon the Brazilian society for their acquisition. This constituted a slight paradox in the articulation of their ethnic consciousness. Such a paradox, however, which is found among all peoples who are in a conflict situation with a more powerful society, is a necessary one not only for the rise of ethnic consciousness but also because the resolution of this paradox fosters the internal development of the society in question.

The Tenetehara, of course, do not articulate this paradox in this manner but simply brush it aside as a fact they can do nothing to alter. It is clear that the dependency relationship of the Tenetehara on the Brazilian society will be exacerbated to the degree that the economy of rural Maranhao becomes more and more capitalist oriented. Even if one assumes that the Tenetehara will be able to retain their lands, they will have to change their mode of production and consequently their society and culture in general in order to be able to produce in sufficiently competitive terms to acquire the goods they need.

The Tenetehara have been in contact with the Brazilian society for over 350 years. They have faced many such challenges before and they have been able to modify their society to meet these challenges. But every new challenge seems to prove greater than the last, and this most recent one appears to be more destructive than the others. This dissertation will attempt to show how the Tenetehara have survived these many' years of contact and managed to maintain their autonomy as a separate ethnic group.













CHAPTER III

THEORETICAL ORIENTATION


The empirical problem to which this dissertation addresses itself is the ethnic survival of the Tenetehara. The term ethnic stands for ethnic group or a societal system that identifies itself and is identified by other such systems as a separate and unique entity. Traditionally, an ethnic group has been defined in terms of a self-maintaining population, a field of interaction and communication, and a set of behavioral patterns and cultural symbols. As will be seen below, these items may not all be present in a unique form within a certain population in order for it to be considered an ethnic group. The term survival is specifically used here because comparative studies on the history of the contact relationship between such societal systems as the Tenetehara and the Brazilian show that the more powerful system tends to incorporate or destroy the less powerful system. In sum, by ethnic survival is meant the continuing existence of a self-identifying societal system in a contact relationship with another such system.

I have already quoted Wagley and Galvao's (1949:183) statement to the effect that by the present time (1975) the Tenetehara Indians were expected to have become Brazilian peasants, to no longer constitute an ethnic group separate from the mainstream of rural Brazilian society. Essentially this development has not taken place and it is the goal of this dissertation to demonstrate why it did not take place and to show what factors are responsible for the phenomenon of Tenetehara ethnic survival.








The analysis of Tenetehara ethnic survival will begin with a

theoretical discussion of the changes and continuities of the Tenetehara ethnic group between the period of Wagley and Galvao's visit in 1941-45 and the time when the present anthropologist visited them in 1975. This will be done both for the Tenetehara ethnic group in general, including the Tenetehara not living in areas visited by the earlier anthropologists, and in particular for the Tenetehara living in the area of the Pindare and lower Zutiua Rivers with which the earlier anthropologists were most closely acquainted. Such a task can be achieved, at least to the extent that is necessary to present a comparative study of the survival of the Tenetehara living in different areas, because the present writer became acquainted with the contact situation of all five Tenetehara areas.

It should be stated at once that the prediction made by Wagley and Galvao was not entirely off the mark, as far as the Tenetehara of the Pindare and Zutiua are concerned. Indeed, of the ten villages with a total population of about 800 people which they visited, only one can be said to be in existence at the present time, while two new villages have since been formed. The total population of the Tenetehara of that region does not presently exceed 350 people. This population decline of the order of sixty percent was lost partly because of epidemiological diseases, but also partly through acculturation. The process of Tenetehara acculturation, or rather, of the peasantization of the Tenetehara, was the theoretical basis from which Waley and Galvao ventured their prediction.

Thus in order to critically discuss Wagley and Galvao's prediction it is necessary to critically discuss acculturation theory. The theory of acculturation was formulated in the 1930s by several American








anthropologists, notably Ralph Linton, Melville Herskovitz, and Robert Redfield. It was an attempt to explain the process of Westernization which the aboriginal societies of the New World, Oceania, and Africa had been experiencing ever since their first contact with European colonization. As an extension this theory purported to explain the phenomenon of culture change through assimilation and internal restructuring that any culture will develop when in close contact with another. As stated in the classic formulation presented by Redfield, Linton, and Herskovitz (1936:149-150),

Acculturation comprehends those phenomena which result when
groups of individuals having different cultures come into continuous first-hand contact, with subsequent changes in
the original cultural patterns of either or both groups.

(NOTE: Under this definition, acculturation is to be
distinguished from culture-change, of which it is but one
aspect, and assimilation, which is at times a phase of
acculturation. It is also to be differentiated from
diffusion, which, while occurring in all instances of
acculturation, is not only a phenomenon which frequently takes place without the occurrence of the type of contact
between peoples specified in the definition above, but
constitutes only one aspect of the process of acculturation.

Basic to this concept of acculturation is the concept of culture,

presumably viewed in a Tylorian sense as the totality of customs, behavior, and organization of a population as a self-identifying, self-maintaining unit. No provision is made to distinguish the concepts of society as the structural-functional organization of a population into groups, and the concept of culture as the ideological and normative level of organization of a population. Subsequently these two concepts have been more clearly delineated, and the changes that occur within a defined population group have been distinguished between social change (for changes pertaining to the social structure through internal reorganization) and cultural change (for those of the culture through the mechanisms of








diffusion).

Had this distinction been made by Wagley and Galv~o, it is possible that their prediction would have been couched differently. These anthropologists were much impressed by the degree of adoption of certain Brazilian traits, such as house types, production tools, clothes, knowledge of the Portuguese language; as well as the decline of aboriginal Tenetehara customs, such as the boys' and girls' initiation rites, the maize festival, the Honey festival. On this basis, coupled with the intensity of contact between Tenetehara and Brazilians, Wagley and Galvao projected a continuation of this trend into a situation in which the Tenetehara ethnic group would no longer be distinguishable from the rural Brazilian society. Their description of the social organization of the Tenetehara, though correctly perceived and implicitly contrasted with that of rural Brazilian society, was not analyzed in terms of its role in keeping the Tenetehara together as a separate ethnic group. Here the basic factors of descent and marriage were in full operation in the Tenetehara society. Descent being bilateral, the offspring of cross-cultural marriage could claim Tenetehara status whenever they so wished, whether their residence was within or outside Tenetehara society. As long as other variables such as the resources of land remained available to them, the mechanisms of descent and social organization would be suffient to maintain the Tenetehara as a distinct ethnic group.

Social change, in short, does not necessarily occur parallel to cultural change. That, of course, already had been implicitly stated in the theory of acculturation when it qualified the process of adoption of foreign cultural traits by a particular society as one of modification of the function of these traits to fit in with the structure of the








culture. But once again culture and society were not operationalized in terms of different analytical levels of integration and cohesion.

On the other hand, numerous empirical examples of societies in close contact with one another and therefore in the process of mutual acculturation showed that the distinction between the social and the cultural as different categories of cohesion and of change was too hairsplitting and only obfuscated the analysis of the process of acculturation. Barth (1969:9ff), in criticizing the theory of acculturation, suggested that an ethnic group in close contact and intercourse with other such groups might borrow cultural and social traits from the others and still retain self-identification as a separate ethnic group, as long as a constellation of features of this group was retained. This constellation of features he called the "culture core." Barth suggested that the culture core might be constituted of any kinds of traits, whether social or cultural, and that the choice of these traits was up to the circumstances of interaction of the ethnic groups in mutual relationship with one another. Thus, in a certain area composed of two or more ecological niches which were exploited by different ethnic groups the culture core of each group would be composed of the features that were utilized for the adaptive exploitation of the particular ecological niches in question. The other features outside these culture cores could be shared by the other ethnic groups without thereby causing the undifferentiation of the groups. In Barth's terminology, the culture core was the unit of selfascription for the particular group as well as the unit of ascription of the group by other particular groups.

The problem with Barth's scheme is that the culture core was

essentially an empirical unit. For the self-ascription of an ethnic group









there was no one feature that was sine qua non, predictable ona scientific basis. So that if one were to study the dynamic interaction of two or more ethnic groups, and even if one knew the historical background of this interaction, one could not assume any feature of culture core of any and every group. One would just have to determine it in loco. Thus, Barth's scheme is essentially descriptive and empiricist. His culture core lacks the promised theoretical use that would go beyond the theory of acculturation and the operational distinction between the social and the cultural.

A particular shortcoming of Barth's empiricism is that there is no one basic socio-cultural component that brings about the self-identification and perpetuity of an ethnic group. Such a component has been identified by many anthropologists who have studied the problem of minorities in plural societies (cf. Wagley and Harris 1958) as the rule of descent. Whether or not a particular ethnic group shares the culture of another ethnic group, it is indeed hard to imagine the continuation of this ethnic group without a rule of descent. Even an ethnic group that uses a cultural norm, such as a ritual of incorporation, to recruit and absorb members, it needs as well to incorporate the offspring of its own members. Otherwise the ethnic group would be no more than a special corporation within a larger self-maintaining unit. A rule of descent which ascribes membership is, therefore, the basic component of the formation and maintenance of an ethnic group. Other socio-cultural components are intended to reinforce membership in the group, such as rituals to mark the biological necessities of growth, reproduction and death. Finally, and on a higher level of integration, more specifically cultural forms exist, such as norms of behavior, ideology, worldview,









religion, and so on.

In short, if one were to follow and systematize Barth's scheme, the culture core of any ethnic group would be defined as constituting the basic feature of a rule of descent ascribing membership and a superstructure of ideological reinforcement. Or to put it in more common anthropological'terms, the culture core is formed of certain elements of a social structure and a cultural structure in mutual relationship to one another. These structures constitutea skeleton of forms, the contents of which would be determined by other circumstances. In the case of an ethnic group, such as the Jews in the United States, the contents that fill these structures come from both an historical tradition already given and the actual mode of subsistence which they have created in the process of adapting to the socio-economic niches available to them in the United States.

The idea of a culture core as an operational category to define the minimal components of an ethnic group in contact with other ethnic groups seems to defeat its purposes in both Barth's definition and in its re-elaboration, presented here. In the first instance, the culture core is merely an empirical category which lacks predictive and comparative value. In the second instance, it assumes the existence of descent rules upon which other categories are built, all of which derive ultimate existence and functionality from another basic category, the mode of subsistence. This re-elaboration, therefore, assumes the structural definition of an ethnic group, of the conjunction of the concepts of economic organizations, society and culture.

To transcend the theory of acculturation and Barth's culture core, the theoretical orientation of this dissertation will be based upon the









application of the theory of historical materialism. This theory, as found in Marx's writings, specifically for the purposes of this study in The German Ideology (1970) and Pre-Capitalist Economic Formations (1964), takes the view that a societal system has two basic functions: to reproduce itself and to produce its means of existence. In the category of self-reproduction or the superstructure are found the modern anthropological concepts of society and culture; and in production is found the Marxian concept of mode of production. These two societal categories, the superstructure and the mode of production are in a dialectical relationship to one another. A relationship between two entities, A and B, is called dialectical when A and B are mutually dependable and mutually deterministic of one another. Thus,

A jIB U A(B)- B(A)

The importance of the use of the term dialectical relationship,

as opposed to functional or reciprocal relationship, is that it implies both synchronic and diachronic dimensions. In the case of a societal system, the mode of production and the superstructure are at any one point functionally congruent and potentially incongruent with one another. When, for external or internal reasons one of these categories suffers a modification in its structure it will cause a deterministic influence upon the other.

It is well known that Marx placed primary stress upon the role of the mode of production as the'determinant of the suprestructure and therefore of the societal system in general. What is not so well discerned is that Marx's concept of the mode of production involves much more than technological forces or the economy, in the bourgeois sense of the word









(cf. Godelier 1977). The recent debate between Marxist and non-Marxist anthropologists (cf. Berger 1976 with commentators; Godelier 1977; Legros 1977; Terray 1972) on the concept and relevance of the mode of production for anthropological studies is taken into account for the definition of the mode of production used here.

The mode of production is a category constituted by all the factors that are structurally linked to each other which are concerned with the material production and maintenance of the societal system. The mode of production is conceptualized on two levels: 1) the production forces: natural resources, technical norms, production units (in other words, land, capital and labor), and the level of productivity required to maintain the socio-cultural system at a given time; and 2) the relations of production: division of labor, forms of distribution and consumption, and the relationship between production units as it refers in particular to the distribution of goods and services. Production forces and production relations are but two concepts that can be operationalized as separate. However, together they form a single dialectical structure. These factors will be further defined and operationalized in the chapters on the Tenetehara economy. If the factors in this structure suffer a modification, the other factors will be modified accordingly. This causal modification might not take place immediately; in this case there will be a time lapse in which the structure does not work as a congruent entity. This incongruence is referred to as the contradiction between the factors of the structure.

The superstructure is concerned with the biological reproduction and the social maintenance of a societal system. It can be analyzed in terms of various categories, such as society and culture, or social









organization, political and legal organizations, ideological organization, and so on. The analysis of the superstructure in these forms depends on the preference of the analyst and of course on the traditional division of intellectual labor and academic discipline. The various subfields of anthropology, such as social, political, and cognitive are concerned with the study of the superstructure.

In this dissertation I will focus on the Tenetehara mode of production and the role it plays in bringing about the ethnic survival of the Tenetehara. A holistic study of the ethnic survival of the Tenetehara can only be complete with an analysis of the superstructure. Specifically such a study should be concerned with kinship organization in its broadest sense and with the ideological components that are most conspicuous in furthering the cohesion of the Tenetehara social system. These components will be dealt with here only to complete the analysis of the Tenetehara mode of production. They can be found in descriptive form in the work of Wagley and Galvao (1949).

Given this brief conceptualization of a societal system as a

structure formed by the dialetics of the mode of production and the superstructure, I now return to a discussion on the theoretical basis of the ethnic survival of the Tenetehara. This study begins with the fact that the Tenetehara have survived ethnically through the 350 years of contact with the Brazilian society. It assumes the presence of the minimal components of an ethnic group, i.e., the rules of descent, mechanisms of incorporation and cohesion, and a material base of production. The question is how have the Tenetehara survived when so many other similar ethnic groups have become extinct? This will be answered in empirical terms throughout this dissertation. Here I am concerned








with formulating a theory for the ethnic survival of the Tenetehara which can be extended to explain both the survival and the extinction of other Indian societies in Brazil.

In the above critical discussion of the acculturation theory, it was seen that the contact relationship between a Western society and a non-Western society is invariably one of superordination-subordination. The superordinate society is seen as effecting the greatest amount of modification on the subordinate society, the effect tending to be of ultimate incorporation of the latter by the former. The subordinate society is seen as a passive entity, absorbing cultural traits and adapting itself to the powerful demands of the superordinate society. On the face of it, the historical records indicate that this process of adaptation indeed happened. On the other hand, the records also show that many other such subordinate societies became extinct. Presumably this extinction could be explained either because the societies did not adapt and therefore were destroyed, or because they adapted only too well to the point of losing their ethnic identification. Such a theory of social adaptation which stands by itself and is also implied in the theory of acculturation explains survival or extinction as a post factum observation and by the terms of its very meaning. Thus in one case, one can say that a society survived because it adapted; in another, a society did not survive because it did not adapt; and in still another, a society did not survive because it adapted. Logically, there is still another possibility which is that a society might survive because it did not adapt.

The logical error of adaptation theory is that it assumes a functional relationship between two entities, for example, culture and environment,









two cultures in mutual relationship to one another, or a culture trait within a larger culture system. Adaptation theory works for the explanation of interaction systems which are static or which change only due to extraneous factors. In regard to the important question of the relation between a culture and its environment, I use the term adaptation to represent this relation, but I should qualify my use of this term from its current use in the literature of anthropological ecology (cf. Rappaport 1968:3-5; Harris 1974).

Adaptation as used here means that a culture at a particular time is utilizing the natural resources, or the environment, available for its mode of production. The environment places a constraint on the productivity of the mode of production of a culture, but it does not determine a particular kind of mode of production in the absolute sense. The mode of production is partly determined by the environment itself and partly by other socio-historical circumstances, such as the evol'utionary level of the culture and of the other cultures in contact with it, and the nature of this contact (cf. Marx 1964:82). The factors of a mode of production, including the forms of utilization of a particular environment, as stated previously, together with the forms of social organization of a culture and its ideological superstructure and the kinds of interaction of this culture with neighboring cultures form a system of interaction, a dynamic entity of parts in dialectical relationship with one another, and therefore carrying in themselves the instability which results in change. This system should not be analyzed as an ecosystem, i.e., a biological system of interaction, because the human element is different from the other biological elements. This difference lies in the fact that man is a self-conscious animal, to put it in philosophical terms,









and that he relates to the environment in a different way than do animals and plants. Man procures from the environment not only his basic necessities, as an animal, but also the necessities that create culture. And as man creates culture and in it a division of labor (initially only along sex or age lines), a higher productivity, an exchange system, the fragmentation of the society in families, lineages, political groups, etc., he creates a system of inherent contradictions. A major contradiction that exists in culture and that propels change is that between the mode of production and the social organization. When one of these factors change, either for "accidental" reasons or because of rearrangements of its components in order to resolve an internal contradiction, then it causes a change in the other factor and then a new rearrangement of these two factors as a system. An "accidental" type of reason can be of the order of an increase in population of the culture, which will then increase the need for a change in the mode of production, or can be an historical event, such as a new contact with a different culture, as in the case of the arrival of the Europeans. In short, a culture is never completely adapted to its environment, whether physical or social environment, because it carries the contradictions in the arrangement of the factors that make it a system. One can, however, speak of adaptation to an environment at a given period of time, provided that it be understood that this adaptation is not of the same order as biological adaptation.

In regard to the use of adaptation theory to study an historical

system of interaction between a superordinate and a subordinate society, one finds similar objections as in the study of the relationship between culture and environment. Such an historical study of adaptation would









lead to the following methodological positions: first, that the relationship of superordination/subordination is conceptualized only in regard to the system of interaction as a whole, not to the particular characteristics of each society. If the superordinate society appropriates half the resources from the subordinate society, thereby causing the loss of half its population, this process should be seen only in terms of the resiliency of this half population to continue in this relationship, not in terms of the human effects of this loss for the subordinate society. This is essentially a mechanistic and anti-humanistic approach, and therefore rejected by this author. Second, the theory of adaptation needs to provide a priori the catalystic elements of change within the contact relationship between two societies. In the biological theory of evolution, the catalyst element of change is mutation, which is essentially a category determined a posteriori. In studies of cultural adaptation, change catalysts are either assumed, in a deus-exmachina manner, or brought in from outside the system of interaction. In short, adaptation theory is merely an explanatory device that because of its functionalism lacks the theoretical basis to explain internal change.

The type of relationship conceptualized in this study for the

contact interaction between Tenetehara and Brazilians is a dialectical one. The Tenetehara ethnic group, as the subordinate societal system, is seen as being in the constant process of change in order to accomodate itself to the Brazilian society and the changes that take place within it. However, this process of change, or progressive restructuring of their society and culture in general, proceeds from the basis of the Tenetehara culture at any given point. The character of this culture imposes certain








constraints on the way it will be able to change as well as on the character of the contact with the Brazilian society itself. Thus the Tenetehara are not merely a passive entity receiving the impact of the dominant Brazilian society; they too react to this impact in both aggressive and non-aggressive ways because they constitute a system with mechanisms to perpetuate the interests and purposes of the membership. Moreover, even when no overt contradictions appear to exist between Tenetehara and Brazilians, the very relationship of superordination/ subordination stands in itself as a contradiction. This contradiction will be operationalized throughout this dissertation according to the types of relationship (slavery, serfdom, patron-clientship) that have existed throughout the history of contact.

Previous studies of Indian-Brazilian interethnic relations, such as Murphy's (1960), Oliveira's (1972), and Ribeiro's (1970), argue convincingly that these relations have historically been economic relations. In terms of this study, these relations pertain to the conjunction of two different modes of production. The Brazilian mode of production in rural Maranhgo has been until very recently one that could be called a peasant mode of production. It is based on agricultural, extractive, and cattle production intended both for self-consumption and for an external market. The external market is the most important catalyst of change, causing both the intensification and decline of production of a particular commodity and the shift towards production of other commodities. This is the well recognized phenomenon of "boom and bust" of the Brazilian economic history.

In a comparative study of the ethnic survival of Brazilian Indians, Ribeiro (1970) analyzed the rate of survival of these ethnic groups in









terms of the contact relationship between the ethnic qroups and the economies of various regions of Brazil. He called these economies and their social forms "expansion frontiers" (frentes de expansao), and characterized them according to the type of commodity produced. He recognized three main expansion frontiers: the agricultural, the pastoral, and the extractive. Each of these frontiers imposes a certain type of relationship on the ethnic group it encounters. Each type of relationship causes a lesser or higher degree of ethnic extinction of the ethnic groups involved. According to Ribeiro's data, the agricultural frontier is the most detrimental to the ethnic groups involved, causing the extinction of 60 percent of these groups; the extractive frontier follows with 45.7 percent of ethnic group extinction; and the pastoral economy with 30.2 percent. The agricultural economy is said to be more detrimental because of the demand for lands and labor of the ethnic groups. The extractive frontier demands only labor and access to certain commodity resources, and the pastoral frontier demands only land. Ribeiro's data clearly prove his theory, but the functional correlation of rate of extinction/expansion frontier seems too general to be taken at face value. What exactly should be the difference between a frontier that demands labor and land (the agricultural) and one that demands only land (the pastoral)? In both instances it is the land factor which actually demands the displacement of the ethnic groups involved. In the agricultural frontiers, labor is required and thus, there may be an implicit tendency in this type of frontier to destroy the population basis of an ethnic group by their labor recruitment in compulsory, indentured, or other forms. On the other hand, the need for land might be proportionately low, so that the ethnic groups might survive by providing only their labor products, not their labor per se. The








pastoral economy needs no extra labor, but only extensive tracts of land, and so the ethnic group will either be destroyed or relegated to certain undesirable areas. In both cases, therefore, there is a logical possibility for either extinction or survival.

Hence, Ribeiro's thesis must be reinterpreted in the light not of the type of commodity produced in an expansion frontier, but in the kind of mode of production of this frontier. This should involve the intensity of production, through the mechanisms of the market system, the types of production units (whether by independent peasants, landless peasants, large landowners, etc.), and the degree of intensity of the need for both land and labor. In addition, consideration should also be given to the type of mode of production and the superstructure of the ethnic group involved. Hunting and gathering ethnic groups, for example, seem to have a far greater resiliency to survival in agricultural frontiers that demand relatively small amounts of land, than the more permanent, agricultural groups. Indeed, in the case of the Guaj' Indians of Western Maranhao and the Sirion6 of Eastern Bolivia, it is quite possible that they became hunters and gatherers as a way to survive. Another example of the importance of considering the ethnic groups them-' selves is provided by the contrast in survival between the Tenetehara and some of the Eastern Timbira groups (cf. Nimuendaju 1946). At one point in the nineteenth century, both these ethnic groups faced a similar type of expansion frontier characterized by mixed farming and cattle raising. The Tenetehara, with their flexible, fissioning type of village formation, survived and even expanded, whereas many of the Eastern Timbira groups, with their rigid social structure and culture which demands a stable population for its continuation, became extinct








as separate units and were incorporated into the Brazilian peasantry.

In sum, a theory of ethnic survival must take into consideration the character of the societal systems in interaction and the kind of relationship that results from this interaction. This theory should also state the basic, minimal components for the continuation of an ethnic group, that is,the continuation of rules of descent, mechanisms of membership incorporation, and of ideological cohesion as well as the material basis of the ethnic group. Taking for granted that the minimal components of the Tenetehara ethnic group are at play, this dissertation will focus on the role of the mode of production of the Tenetehara through their history of contact.. My thesis is that given the circumstances of this contact, this mode of production is the main factor in keeping the Tenetehara from becoming assimilated into the rural Brazilian mainstream. And in the regions where the Tenetehara have become assimilated, the process of assimilation is viewed in terms of the disintegration of the Tenetehara mode of production.

The following chapters of this dissertation are conceptualized into two parts. The first part (chapters IV, V and VI) is concered with an analytical description of the historical contact of the Tenetehara and Brazilians, that is of Tenetehara ethnohistory. The analysis of Tenetehara ethnohistory will focus on the contact relationship between the Tenetehara and the various historical phases of the formation of the Brazilian society. This contact relationship is mediated through economic relations which I have called "trade economies." Some data on th contact relationship between the forming Brazilian society and other Indian groups in Maranhao will be presented in order to compare their rate of survival with the Tenetehara.









The second part (Chapters VII, VIII and IX) will deal specifically with the Tenetehara mode of production through, this historical contact. It will focus both on the economic relations of the internal economy of the Tenetehara and the relations pertaining to the various trade economies which were the mediators of the Tenetehara and the Brazilians.

If the analysis in toto presented here proves adequate in terms of an explanation of why the Tenetehara continue to retain their ethnic identification, there will loom a most important practical question as to the future of the Tenetehara ethnic group. Although wary of predictions on the Tenetehara, I will nevertheless try to argue for certain predictable changes, based on the structural elements of the Tenetehara mode of production, which may bring about the continuation of the Tenetehara ethnic group. This may prove to be only a theoretical exercise but it may have some practical significance for an applied anthropology of the Tenetehara.














CHAPTER IV

FORMATION OF INTER-ETHNIC RELATIONS


The earliest information we have on the Tenetehara Indians is

derived from the history of the state of Maranhao and the adjacent state of Para. In many instances the information concerning the Tenetehara is rather scanty and indirect, and I have brought analytical perspective to it by making careful inferences from it, helped by comparisons with more fully documented cases which were analogous to the Tenetehara situation. There have been no archaeological or linguistic studies to shed light on the Tenetehara of pre-Columbian times. One or two suggestions have been made concerning the "original" habitat of the Tenetehara, such as that of Nimuendaju (1937:48) who believed that they came from the state of Para or beyond to the west, but these suggestions cannot be supported by our present knowledge of the pre-historical migratory movements of Brazilian Indians.

Tenetehara ethnohistory, therefore, is essentially the history of the changes and developments in their society and culture, as the Tenetehara were brought into the sphere of influence of the forces of colonization of the state of Maranhio. To describe changes and developments is to describe a situation at a certain point in time, and what it became at a later point, and what brought about this new state of being. Hence, a study of social change is a dialectical study. The dialectical method used here is devoid of any elaboration on the philosophical aspects of such concepts as contradictions, opposites, structural









disequilibrium, and other such terms. These concepts will be developed in empirical terms, in the context of a set of problems which are viewed as forming a system. I use the dialectical method to describe an historical situation which ipso facto is not static, and which therefore cannot be analyzed, either in the short or in the long run, by a method that is concerned exclusively with equilibrium or adaptations.

My use of the dialectical method posits the Tenetehara as a sociocultural system in confrontation with the forces of colonization of Maranh~o, as another such system. Both these sytems, as social systems, contain the inherent potential for change independent of the influences which they exert upon one another, but it is basically the changes that are brought forth by the contact with one another that is of concern here. The influence which the Tenetehara had on the colonial system is rather minimal, mainly in the area of utilization of the environment, and it will not concern us here. The influence of the developing colonial society on the Tenetehara, however, is the main factor in Tenetehara ethnohistory, and therefore an analysis of colonial society and later of the emerging Brazilian society as it affected the Tenetehara society, will be the main concern of this chapter.

The two key analytical concepts in this chapter are, on the one hand, the Tenetehara society brought into the sphere of influence of the colonial society in the various stages of its history, and on the other, the resultant Tenetehara society at the end of these historical stages. In dialectical terms we have the historical flux of thesis (the Tenetehara society at a certain historical point), the antithesis (the confronting colonial society at a similar historical point), and the synthesis (the resultant Tenetehara society). Because this is not intended to be









a history of Maranh~o, the analysis of this colonial society will be focused on the points which bear on the Tenetehara in more direct ways, particularly its economic development, forms of labor recruitment, and the practical consequences of its Indian policy. Furthermore, as ethnohistory, the analysis of Tenetehara socio-cultural changes will be described here only in general terms. The details of these changes will be presented in the analysis of Tenetehara economy in Chapters VII, VIII and IX.

It should be stated here that I began the analysis of Tenetehara

ethnohistory after I had acquired a certain understanding of the present day Tenetehara society through my own field work among them and the reading of the ethnographic literature on them (Abreu 1931, Nimuendaju 1951, Snethlage 1931, Wagley and Galvao 1949, 1963, Wagley 1973). From the present day synthesis of Tenetehara society I tried to trace the previous thesis by looking at the antithesis and then searching for confirmation of this thesis in the history of Maranhao. In some cases this confirmation could not be procured in which case the solution presented is of the order of speculation or structural inference. But of course this method of tracing back socio-cultural changes was complemented by tracing these changes chronologically from a given point of reference. And it is in a chronological sequence that this chapter will

unfold.

Before I proceed to analyze Tenetehara ethnohistory, a word should be said about what the minimum requirements for the survival of Brazilian Indian societies are. The impact of the arrival of Europeans in the New World has been analyzed by many anthropologists before, and all of them have recognized the effect of European diseases as having the most








detrimental effect on the peoples of the Americas (cf. Ribeiro 1970;and Wagley and Harris 1958:15-19). The rate of population loss in the early years of contact, before some kind of natural immunization is acquired, determines to a large extent the future survival of Indian groups. Only those groups that retain a minimal self-reproducing biological unit through the many periodic epidemic outbreaks can continue to be a separate ethnic unit. This is the most basic and minimal requirement that determines ethnic group survival, and obviously the Tenetehara are included here as having successfully born out the impact of foreign diseases.

Two other factors to be overcome to ensure ethnic group survival

are miscegenation as an accultu-rative process and the loss of effective control of land as the Indian's basic economic resource. The processes of Indian miscegenation and appropriation of Indian lands are well known facts in the history of Brazil, and particularly In the history of Maranhgo, where the population that came to form its society was largely recruited from the Indian societies living in this region.

The appropriation of social capital and fixed capital from the Indians was made necessary by the very conditions of the colonization of Maranhao, which consisted of a small population of Portuguese colonists practicing a mode of production which required an expanding amount of land and a permanent large amount of labor. Land was expropriated from the Indians by conquest followed by the effective control of it through the establishment of sugar and tobacco plantations, population settlement, and colonial administration. Labor was expropriated from the tribal societies by the conquest of the societies or by war parties sent to bring back war captives. In both cases the defeated Indians were reduced









to conditions of slavery and/or serfdom. The recruitment of labor involved the recruitment of a population that, having lost its cultural means of reproduction, slowly become incorporated as a member of the incipient colonial society.

When these factors combined in an overwhelming way, of course, the Indian society became extinct. The Tenetehara society managed to avoid this whole process, and continued to reproduce itself within the confines of group membership and the effective control of its land. There were particular reasons for this turn of events, both having to do with the particular characteristics of the Tenetehara as a society, and with the socio-economic conditions of the colonization of Maranhao. Throughout this chapter the Tenetehara situation of contact will be contrasted with the situation of other Indian groups in Maranhao, to illustrate in chronological steps the reasons for the survival or extinction of particular groups.

Colonization and development are understood here as socio-economic demographic processes, the differences between the two being merely historical. As far as Maranhao is concerned, the former comprehends the period dating from the early date of 1535, but more exactly from 1612 to around the time of the independence of Brazil from Portugal in 1822. The latter follows this last date to the present times and is more or less linked to the process of modernization. But from the perspective of Tenetehara ethnohistory, this time span of 440 years (1535-1975) may be divided into four consecutive periods which are characterized by particular forms of Tenetehara-Brazilian (or Portuguese) inter-ethnic relations. These phases are: (1) Formation of inter-ethnic relations (1613-1755) which is subdivided in (a) phase of slavery: 1616-1653; and





58


(b) phase of serfdom: 1653-1755. (2) Freedom and transition: 17551840. (3) Patron-client relationship and the Provincial Indian Policy: 1840-1910. (4) The twentieth century and the role of the SPI/FUNAI: 1910-1975. The first period is the subject of the present chapter. The later periods will be discussed in later chapters.



The Phase of Slavery (1613-1653)

The colonization of Maranhao was first attempted in 1535 by a joint expedition organized by Joao de Barros, Ayres da Cunha, and Arvares de Andrade (Kiemen 1954:8). These men had been given the right to set up trading posts and colonial administration in two large tracts of land that stretched from the Rio Branco Cape westward to the mouth of the Amazon River. These two grants of land, or capitanias (captaincies) were part of the first Portuguese program to colonize the area of South America which had been partioned to Portugal by the Tordesillas Treaty of 1494.

This joint expedition was shipwrecked off the coast of Maranh^o, near the island which later became known as S'o Luls. This island was at that time inhabited by the "gentio tapuia," or non-Tupi speaking Indians, who were reportedly unfriendly to the colonization intentions of the survivors. Apparently many Portuguese stayed in the area and became incorporated as Indians (Salvador 1954:134). By the early seventeenth century these Indians had moved inland and became known as "Barbados" ("the bearded ones"). Several political and economic difficulties barred the Portuguese from making further attempts to colonize Maranh~o until the second decade of the seventeenth century, when control of that area was threatened by the French.









In 1612, a French expedition founded a colony on the northwest

corner of the island of Sao Lufs, thus initiating the history and development of Maranhao. By then the island was inhabited by the famous Tupinamba Indians who had come from the coast of Pernambuco sometime in the late sixteenth century and who had dislodged the island's previous inhabitants (Abbeville 1945:65; Metraux 1963:98, 1927). French sailors had been prospecting in the trade of Brazil wood and tropical exotica with the Tupinamba of the island and of the Serra do Ibiapaba (in present day Ceara State) for over forty years (Abbeville 1945:63). The French expedition was therefore well received by the Tupinamba.

There were several French turgimons, or speakers of the Tupi language, who were living among the Indians. These Europeans knew their customs well, and had been promising them the arrival of powerful caraiba, or prophets, who would teach them new ways to lead a peaceful life. The TupinambS, after all, had come all the way from Pernambuco not only in search of respite from Portuguese encroachment and enslavement, but also in search of a physical-spiritual salvation in the "Land Without Evil" (cf. Metraux 1950). They were also being enticed by the marvels of iron implements and other European trinkets (Abbeville, 1945:59-60, 74ff).

Claude d'Abbeville (1945), who was one of the four Capuchin friars in the French expedition, describes in interesting details the way the French set about to organize Tupinamba labor for the extraction of Brazil wood and the material provisioning of the colony. He also writes of how the Tupinamba felt about the Portuguese and about the new religion and mores that they were expected to follow as new vassals of the King of France (Abbeville 1945:234). For our purposes, however, it is Abbeville's description and account of the number of Tupinamba villages on the island









and elsewhere in Maranhao that is of special interest.

In 1612 the island of Sao Luls, which has an area of 22,000 square kilometers, contained some 27 Tupinamb5 villages which ranged in size from 200-300 to 500-600 people for a total of ten to twelve thousand people. Each village had at least one or two leaders and the larger ones could have four or five. The leader of the largest village, one Japiagu, was in some undetermined fashion recognized as the head leader (morubixaua) for this whole area. The French however, dealt with single family leaders irrespective of sanction or consent from JapiaCu, which may indicate that area leadership or chiefdom level leadership was nominal or at best inchoate (Abbeville 1945:58, 92, 234; cf. also Metraux 1963, 1950, Fernandes 1963, 1970).

In Tapuitapera, to the west of the Bay of Sdo Marcos which divides the island from the mainland, there were fifteen to twenty Tupinamba villages with a total population larger than that of the island (Abbeville 1945:148). Further westward, in the Bay of Cum., there were just as many Tupinamba villages, and from there to Caet' (in present day Pari State) there were twenty to 24 more Tupinamb5 villages. Altogether there may have been as many as 40,000 to 50,000 Tupinamb' along the coast west of and including the Sao Luis island.

Abbeville (1945:149) visited several villages on the island as well as in Tapuitapera and Cum , and reported that these areas formed a "confederation" against their enemies. It seems, however, that each village or group of villages made war on their own against other Tupinamb' and nonTupinamba tribes. Those of Cumi are reported to have gone as far west as the Lower Amazon, whereas those of the island fought the Tupinamba of the Mearim and Itapecuru Rivers, and of the Serra do Ibiapaba









(Abbeville 1945:67-70, 95, 120-121).

I have briefly described the Tupinamba of Maranhao for two reasons. First, because they were by far the largest Indian group in the region as well as along the coast of the rest of Brazil, and they contributed a great deal to the formation of colonial Maranhao (and Brazil in general) both in terms of demography and culture. Second, because it is necessary to know about the Tupinamba in order to set them apart from the Tenetehara.
Both the Tenetehara and the Tupinamb' spoke very similar dialects

of the Tupi-Guarani language (Rodrigues 1965) and they may have even been mutually intelligable. Father Antonio Vieira, the famous Jesuit who spoke the Tupi lingua geral and was acquainted with both the Tupinamba and Tenetehara dialects, says that the latter dialect was "more similar to that of the carijos [a Tupi speaking tribe also known as Guarani in Southern Brazil and Paraguay] than to any other in. Brazil" (Vieira 1925:394-395). This is a puzzling statement for, to make ethnographic sense, we would have to postulate that the Tenetehara were recent arrivals in Maranh-o as were the Tupinamba, the former having come a long way from Southern Brazil, and the latter from Pernambuco. At any rate, it is clear that both groups were very closely related linguistically which raises the question of cultural similarities between the two.

However much the two groups shared from the common culture in some time past, what is of interest here is to identify some basic cultural differences. First of all, it is postulated that the Tenetehara culture lacked the famous cannibalism complex of the Tupinamba which included the presence of a proto-idol-priest religion and large concentrations of people to maintain this complex (cf. Fernandes 1963, 1970; Metraux 1963, 1950). This conclusion is somewhat contradicted by a statement made by Vieira (1925:394) which is, however, to extrapolative to deserve much









credit. He stated that it was a "universal custom" of all Indian groups in Maranhao "not to take or have names" without the ceremony of "breaking the head of an enemy." Since breaking an enemy's head was part of the cannibalistic ritual of the Tupinamb5, this statement suggests that every Maranhao tribe was cannibalistic, something which can not be documented in the literature. In any event, without cannibalism, as it was known for the Tupinamba, Tenetehara society must have lacked a series of characteristics that made the Tupinamba so much the prize of Portuguese colonization. The Tenetehara seemed to be far less numerous within a given area, had smaller villages, and less social cohesion, or to put this in sociological terms, less social density. This Tenetehara social characteristic meant that their social structure was more flexible than the Tupinamba's, thus offering more potential for new realignments in case of population loss, and ultimately more chances forsurvival. In short, the Tenetehara society of the early period of contact can be postulated to be more or less similar to other Tupi tribes, such as the Urubu-Kaapor (Huxley 1956; Ribeiro 1974) the Assurini (Laraia 1972) among others, which are characterized by small villages formed by groups of extended families, without lineages and political offices either within the village or the supra-village levels. Such types of social organization do not need symbolic elements such as cannibalistic rituals to keep their members as consciously sharing the same culture.

The Tenetehara appear on the historical scene when the French began to explore the interior of Maranhao. In 1612, they contacted "a great nation" of Indians called the "Pinariens" on the Pindare River (Abbeville 1945:292, 295). Wagley and Galvao (1949:6) have already associated this Indian nation with the Guajajara (Tenetehara) Indians, as they were later








called by the Portuguese. The contact with the French was rather short and played little part in Tenetehara ethnohistory.

In 1614, the Portuguese arrived in Maranhao coming from Pernambuco with the purpose of expelling the French, which they accomplished a few months later. They took the island and the town of Sao Luls, and soon began to set up Portuguese colonization. By then the system of captaincies had been abolished and Portugal had set up a colonial administration of more central control located in Bahia. However, because it was easier to reach Maranhao directly from Lisbon (because of bad winds along the northern coast of Brazil) than from Bahia, the Portuguese Crown decided to set up a separate colonial government for Maranhao and Para. In 1621, the two small Portuguese settlements of S~o Luls and Belem along with the territory that ranged from the present Ceara State to the Lower Amazon became known as the State of Maranh~o and Gr~o Pars. It was ruled by a Crown appointed Governor (governador) and two Captain-generals (capit~o-mor) who would preside over the town council, or c-mara, of each town (Marques 1970:298). According to Jo~o Francisco Lisboa, a historian of Maranhao in the nineteenth century, the council had the following perquisites: 1) stipulate salaries for Indians and free workers. 2) Set up prices for craft goods, meat, salt, manioc flour, sugar rum, cotton fabrics and thread, medicines, and products coming from Portugal. 3) Levy taxes, organize Indian labor recruitment, fiscalize the missions, and declare war or peace toward particular Indian tribes. 5) Create settlements and outposts of Portuguese control (Marques 1970: 168). This administrative system continued through the period of Portuguese control of Brazil, although in 1772 the state had been divided into two separate entities, Maranhao and Para (Marques 1970:345).









As soon as the Portuguese had expelled the French, and even before the system of state government had been set up, they began to organize the economy of the region. Land was distributed by the capitao-mor to the nobel conquerors, who then took on the business of setting up tobacco and sugar plantations. They needed labor to work their plantations and to build the infrastructure of the colony, so they immediately looked to the Tupinamba. The Tupinamba of Tapuitapera and Cuma rebelled against this imposition, apparently as they had not been treated likewise by the French, but they were quickly and bloodily put down by the capitao-mor, Jeronimo de Albuquerque, and his lieutenants Bento Maciel Parente and Mathias de Albuquerque. This represession took place either in 1616 (Marques 1970:298) or 1619 (Kiemen 1954:22), and as many as 30,000 Tupinamb' are said to have been killed (Kiemen 1945:22 fn 10). In the words of Bernardino Berredo, a governor of Maranhao between 1718 and 1722 and one of its principal colonial historians, this repression "extinguished the last relics of the TupinambS" (Marques 1970:298).

To be more precise, Tupinamb' Indians continued to exist, albeit in progressively smaller numbers and weaker culture. Indeed, in 1654, there were only five villages left in the island of S o Luls (Vieira 1925:388), and by the end of the century just "two or three small villages (aldeotas)" (Bettendorf 1910:12). In 1730, there were still three Jesuit missions in S~o Luis, the largest of which had a population of 301 Christianized Indians, most of whom we may presume to be descedants of Tupinamba (Leite 1943:104-106). In short, the population decline of the Tupinamb' of the island, in the space of 120 years of contact, was in the order of ninety percent.








As far as the pre-contact population size of the Tenetehara is concerned, there is no other information but that of being "a great nation." In 1653, there were only a few (Vieira 1925:395; Moraes 1860:400 explicitly says five) Tenetehara villages on the upper Pindare River. Considering that the Tenetehara had suffered a bloody slave raid in 1616 and another sometime in the 1940s--both of which had made them rather fearful of the Portuguese (Prazeres 1891:43; Vieira 1925:395)--it is possible that their pre-contact population may have been as large as 3,000 people. In 1730, when the Jesuits had already set up two missions for the Tenetehara, Maracu and Sao Francisco Xavier, which may have included, at least nominally, most of the Tenetehara villages, there were 404 and 799 people, respectively. If these reconstruction inferences are valid, we may conclude that the Tenetehara did not suffer nearly as much population decline as the Tupinamb'; in fact, a population loss of no more than sixty percent.

There are four interrelated reasons that will explain this phenomenon. First, the Tenetehara were located far up the Pindar River, an area which was difficult to be reached by canoe because of fallen trees which impeded navigation. Therefore there were natural barriers to bringing Tenetehara Indians down to a location of easy access to their labor by means of war and captivity. Second, the putative small population living in small dispersed villages did not much encourage the Portuguese colonists to make periodic slave parties against the Tenetehara. It certainly could not have been as lucrative as organizing expeditions against the large area population concentrations of the Tupinamba even as far away as the Tocantins River, or the large villages of Ga-like peoples of Eastern Maranhao. Third, the Jesuits took an early interest in the Tenetehara








who in their turn responded to them in more trustful terms. This helped in protecting the Tenetehara from officially sanctioned Portuguese war parties (entradas), but not unofficial war parties (bandeiras) or the danger of epidemic outbreaks. Fourth, and most importantly, the territory of the Tenetehara, even the area of the lower Pindar6 was not suitable, or at least not as suitable as other areas, to the plantation system of the Portuguese colonists. Instead, the areas of colonization were mainly those of the lower Itapecuru and Monim Rivers where tobacco and sugar plantations were set up, while cattle was herded in the fields (perizes) of the lower Mearim and in Tapuitapera (Bettendorf 1910:19; Marques 1970:63).

Other Indian tribes of Maranhao suffered various degress of population loss and cultural disintegration during the same period. Those who lived in the areas of plantations, despite their ferocious resiliency at being "pacified," were progressively enslaved and/or missionized by the Jesuits. Tribes in other areas of Maranhjo were left undisturbed until the latter half of the eighteenth century when the cattle frontier moving from Piaui and the agricultural frontier moving up along the Mearim and Itapecuru Rivers began to tax them for their land, as we will see later on.

From the data found in Vieira (1925), Bettendorf (1910), Moraes

(1869), Leite (1943), as well as the encyclopaedic study of the history of Maranhao done by Marques (1970), we can reconstruct a picture (Figure 2) of the distribution of Indian tribes in Maranhao in the seventeenth
I
century. Many of these tribal names cannot be identified as to linguistic affiliation, although, following Nimuendaju (1937:58) it is likely that many of those not identified as Tupi speakers may have been of Timbira

(G;) affiliation. There is some question as to whether some of these Timbira tribes were inhabiting these areas prior to 1713 or whether they














OCEAN


KREYE


PARA


PARA

APINA'


PIU

KR 03

Figure 2. Indian Groups in Colonial Times

-- Timbira Boundaries GI AS 'Jesuit Missions S- , r I00 10 Scale








immigrated from Piaui after that date when the cattle frontier displaced the many tribes of that state (Alencastre 1857:23; William Crocker, personal communication). Immigration of other Indian tribes into Maranhao has been recorded, as already mentioned, for the Tupinamb' in the latter half of the sixteenth century, for tribes of unknown affiliation (possible Ge or Kariri as they were said to be "nomadic") in 1698 coming from the state of Rio Grande do Norte (Marques 1970:394), and for the Urubu-Kaapor in the late nineteenth century coming from Para (Ribeiro 1974:33).

The distribution of these tribes, as presented in Figure 2, remained more or less constant until the middle of the eighteenth century when the colonization of Maranhao experienced a new impetus. But of course it should be borne in mind that through this early period those Indian groups located on the coast and on to the northeast of the Itapecuru River were in a progressive stage of acculturation. By the beginning of the nineteenth century they had become totally acculturated as peasants except in areas of Jesuit missions (S~o Miguel, Aldeias Altas, S-ao Joao, and three villages on the island) where there remained Indian villages as corporate units separate from other Brazilian settlements (Spix and Martius 1938:462, 484).
It is not clear that the French used Tupinamba labor in a compulsory fashion, but the Portuguese took the opportunity to do so as soon as they had taken over the area by defeating the French and their Tupinamba allies. I have already mentioned the suppression by the Portuguese of a Tupinamb5 uprising in 1616 or 1619 and the outcome of it as far as Tupinamba culture is concerned. Regarding the Tenetehara specifically, at least two slave parties were sent against them and they brought a certain number of Tenetehara to live near the Portuguese under the conditions of slavery.









However, these slave parties did not destroy the basis of subsistence of the Tenetehara. Of the 1616(9) slave party, which was led by the notorious Indian slaver and later governor of Maranho (1638-1641) (Marques 1970:302), Bento Maciel Parente, it is said that he went to the upper Pindar6 in search of precious stones and "after a few months, he returned without finding anything but the Guajajara [Tenetehara] Indians, against whom he made cruel and devastating war" (cf. Prazeres 1'891:43 and also Wagley and Galv~o 1949:6). The slave party of the 1640s was organized by one Lucena de Azevedo, capit~o-mor of Para (not Maranhao) and he naively boasted in a letter to the King of Portugal that he had captured 600 Tupinamba and 50 couples of the "Pinar6 nation" (Kiemen 1954:67 fn 58). Confirmation of that slave party against the Tenehehara is found in Vieira (1925:395). No futher mention of slave parties against the Tenetehara is on record.

Slave labor in Maranhao was used in two ways. First, as domestic labor in the private homes of the Portuguese colonists. In 1637, there were 230 vizinhos, or propertied colonists (Kiemen 1954:57), and by 1693 their number had increased to 600. This excludes the poor, nonpropertied colonists who are reported to be quite numerous (Ferreira 1894:32). All of them, we may be certain, had Indian domestic slaves. Second, Indians were used as field slaves to work the sugar and tobacco plantations that sprouted in the island and in the drainage area of the Itapecuru and Monim Rivers, and later in the 1720s on the lower Mearim River. Sugar cane was first introduced in 1622 (Marques 1970:63) and by 1641, when the Dutch temporarily took control of Maranhao for three years, there were five sugar mills in Maranhio and seven more were soon to come (Marques 1970:63). For every sugar mill there was a mill owner, but









there were many more sugar cane plantation owners who were not rich enough to set up a sugar mill of their own. There is no information on the number of tobacco plantations but they must have been equally numerous, for the role of tobacco in the economy of Maranhao in the seventeenth century is as important as that of sugar. The Tenetehara brought to Sao Luis and to Azevedo's plantations worked both as domestic and field slaves.

The rate of survival of Indian slave labor was extremely low.

Cultural disruption caused anomie, a psycholoqical condition of apathy which has been documented for other Indian societies as of most deadly effect. Indian families were taken out of their villages to live in the houses of the colonists, and they became part of the retinue of colonial households, Field slaves worked under foremen--who were generally mamelucos or assimilated mestizos (Vieira 1925:308ff)--who felt no particular sympathy to the well being of their charges. And there were the periodic epidemics of small pox and measles that caused the greatest population losses among the Indians. In the seventeenth century there were at least four big epidemics: measles in 1615 (Gaioso 1970:70) and 1663 (Marques 1970:312); small pox in 1620 (Marques 1970:298)and 1695 (Bettendorf 1910:xliii). This last one is said to have been brought by an African slave ship; it caused the highest population losses among aldeado Indians (those living in villages near the Portuguese and controlled by them) from Sao Luis all the way to Belem.

There was, therefore, a constant need to replace the diminishing Indian labor power, since African slave labor, which was first brought in 1685 but was soon discontinued because of the lack of capital to pay for them, could not replace the Indians. Replacement of slave labor was









effected by organizing war parties against Indian tribes. Such parties were called entradas, if they were organized and sanctioned by the colonial administration, and bandeiras, if they were organized by private individuals. The latter were generally made up of paulistas, or people coming from the economically depressed colony of S6o Paulo, who roamed all over the country enslaving Indians for sale to plantations owners in Bahia and Pernambuco, or hiring themselves to colonists who needed experienced slavers to wipe out aggressive Indian groups near their plantations.
Royal policy on the matter of the status of Indians was rather

inconsistent through the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries. According to Kiemen (1954:162), it was stabilized in, the late 1680s. Indians had been declared "free" by a royal order as early as 1570 (Kiemen 1954:4), but through this .and many other regimentos, or royal orders (for example, those of 1595, 1605, 1609, 1649, 1652, 1655, 1680, and 1686; [cf. Kiemen 1954]), the proviso that parties and expeditions could be organized to make war against Indian tribes that were threatening Portuguese property or that had refused to accept the teaching of the Gospel, or other conditions, such as Indians who had slaves to be sacrificed in cannibalistic ritual, was a convenient loophole for slave parties (cf. Kiemen 1954).

Besides the Tupinamba and Tenetehara, as already mentioned, entradas and bandeiras were sent against the Barbados, Guanares, and Aracares in 1620 (Marques 1970:105-106), the Uruatis in 1649 (Leite 1943:144), Cahy-Cahy (or Caicais) in 1671 (Leite 1943:146), the Teremembes'in 1679 (Bettendorf 1910:318; Leite 1943:161.), and other tribes along the Parnalba River (Leite 1943:164). In the eighteenth century such predation continued against the Barbados in 1719, and 1721, and 1722, after









this tribe had destroyed three sugar mills on the lower Mearim River (Marques 1970:105-106), the Gamella in 1785 (Marques 1970:132), and the various Timbira groups along the middle Mearim and Itapecuru Rivers (cf. Nimuendaju 1946:4ff).

It must be noted, however, that not every defeated tribal Indian

was taken into slavery. Some of the tribes, as for instance the Barbados and Aracares (or Aranhes) were "reduced" to live in an area near a Portuguese settlement so that they could be recruited to work in the colonists' plantations as they were needed. Sometime in tie seventeenth century, four villages of non-Tupi Indians (possibly "Barbados") were brought down from the lower Graja3 to the Sao Luis island to live in one single village so that easy access to them be made possible (Almeida 1874:262). In the case of aldeados Indians, or Indians brought to live in a particular village, slave labor could not be exacted from them. In fact, they were considered as "free" Indians and their labor was to be paid for in wages. Such wages were stipulated by the colonial administration through the town council. Wages were paid monthly and consisted of two yards of cloth and one iron implement in the midseventeenth century (Kiemen 1954:69).

Free Indians lived in free villages, but they were administered by a Pai dos Crist~os (Father of the Christians), a colonial office that was filled by prelate until 1660 and then by a prelateappointed by the Governor acting as president of the Council. Such free villages had access to land for subsistence agricultural purposes, but they had little time of their own to pursue these activities to a satisfactory level. Indeed, as Vieira (1925:308ff) noted in 1653, the colonists of Maranhao used this form of free labor as corvee labor, particularly in public









service works. Before the royal order of 1655, free Indians could be obliged to work at least for seven months out of the year (Kiemen 1954:69). After 1655 they were obliged to work only two months at a time with two months' rest in between to pursue their own activities (Kiemen 1954:96ff). As late as 1808 (Gaioso 1970:111) descendants of the Tobajara (Tupinambg) and Cahy-Cahy Indians living in the former Jesuit mission of Sdo Miguel were annually recruited as corvee labor for public service jobs. Indians of- the Franciscan and Jesuit missions of Sao Luis were particularly used for such works throughout the colonial period. In fact, according to a contemporary witness, enslaved Indians were better treated than free ones because the former were like "something close to the Master" (Kiemen 1954:70).

Except for a brief period in the 1650s when Father Antonio Vieira, the famous Jesuit "defendor of the Indians", was playing an important role in the making of Indian royal policy, Indians living in the missions of the Carmelites, Franciscans, and Jesuits, were also made available to perform labor for the colonists and the town council. Exceptions to that regulation were granted to particular Indian villages, as requested by the missionaries. But in all cases, the missionaries, who were receiving royal salaries plus travel money, were required to pay wages to the Indians who worked for them, either privately or in their agricultural enterprises. Theoretically, therefore, most of the Indian labor in Maranh~o was supposed to be free, but in practice, labor conditions were either of the slavery type or the serfdom type. The latter was the characteristic case of mission Indians.









Serfdom Phase: 1653-1755

The year 1653 was chosen as initiating this period of Tenetehara

inter-ethnic relations because it was in that year that they were first contacted by the Jesuit Padre Veloso who had been sent by Antonio Vieira. But as far as other Indian tribes are concerned, missionization had started soon after the arrival of the Portuguese in 1615. The Franciscan friars of the Order of Saint Anthony were responsible for "reducing," or concentrating a large number of Indians, sometimes regardless of ethnic affiliation, into aldeamentos, or mission villages. But by 1637 the Franciscans had suffered many setbacks in the process of missionization and had practically given up (Kiemen 1954:44).

Meanwhile, through the 1620s and 1630s, the Jesuits, under the vigorous administration of Padre Luis Figueira, were organizing their missionary work in Maranho, and pulling their strings in Lisbon, particularly through the influence of Vieira. In 1638 they were given temporal control of the administration of the aldeias, and were receiving salaries from the tithes exacted from the sugar mills. From that date on the Jesuits became the most important and efficient missionaries in Maranhao and Para until their expulsion from Brazil in 1758. Throughout these years they were generally favored by the Portuguese Crown in their disputes with the colonists, the colonial administration, and the other religious orders (Kiemen 1954:169-170).

The Jesuits, and probably the other religious orders as well, had two methods of reducing Indiansto villages and establishing a mission system among them. The first was a kind of joint enterprise between the missionaries and the colonial administration in which these two groups were combined to persuade a particular Indian tribe to accept the teachings









of the Gospel and be available for labor recruitment. This method was a mixture of persuasion through gift distribution and coercion. It seemed to have been used particularly on Indian groups that did not speak the Tupi lingua geral, as in the case of the Uruatis, Barbados, Guanares, and Teremembes of north-central and northeast Maranhgo. Such tribes were considered rather bellicose and shifty. They were semi-nomadic, i.e., although having a permanent settlement, during the dry season the group disbanded in small units much like the G tribes of savannah-gallery forest area (cf. Maybury-Lewis 1974). This cultural trait made it only more difficult to reduce these groups in a peaceful way. In 1649, after a few months of contact, and having attempted to reduce the Uruatis to one settlement, three Jesuits and a lay brother were killed by them, allegedly because a young woman had been whipped by the missionaries (Bettendorf 1910:69). A war party was sent to punish these Indians but somehow they eluded their pursuers. In 1719 the Guanar's killed a Jesuit who was trying to missionize them. Incidents of Jesuits being killed by Indians are usually restricted to non-Tupi Indians.

The second method used by the Jesuits was that known as descimento. An Indian tribe would first be contacted by an emissary of the Jesuits, usually a Tupi-speaking Indian. He would talk about the Jesuits and the gifts that could be expected from them if the tribe accepted to come and live in a mission. Then a Jesuit would be sent with an entourage of mission Indians and loads of gifts to confirm these promises (Vieira 1925:395). In some cases the Indian tribe itself would send an emissary of their own to contact the Jesuits. Finally the Jesuits would persuade the tribe to come down to a place suitably located within easy access to a Portuguese town or settlement, but not too close as to be in constant









contact with the colonists. In this way some Indian groups living west of the lower Pindare River were brought down to Tapuitapera (Marques 1970:66) and later in 1755 the Tupi speaking Amanaj's of the upper PindareUpper Gurupi area were persuaded to come down to a place near S~o Luls (Leite 1943:195). Of course there are countless other examples for the state of Para.

A variation of the descimento method was applied in conjunction with the colonial administration. In this case the Jesuits acted as ambassadors for the colonists, and the result of this combination was rather efficient. In the 1660s, in three entradas that were joined by Jesuits (one of which included Vieira), over 3,000 free Indians had been persuaded to come with them and live near the town of Befem, and 1,800 Indians had been taken as slaves to the same location (Kiemen 1954:114). At least 2,000 of these Indians were Tupinamba from the Tocantins River (Vieira 1925:554-555). These free Indians were placed in aldeias to be Christianized and to serve as free laborers for the colonists.

It was by the method of descimento that the Jesuits persuaded a group of Tenetehara from the upper Pindare River to come and live in a new mission on the lower Pindare River. The Tenetehara were already known by the Portuguese of Maranhao from two previous slave parties, and there were some Tenetehara living in Sao Luis. A Tenetehara group was sent back to their territory to announce the arrival of the Jesuits in a few months' time. Padre Vieira then sent Padre Veloso with another group of Indians, including some more Tenetehara, to the upper Pindare, a journey which took 34 days by canoe and six more days on foot through the forest of the Pindare. When Padre Veloso arrived in a Tenetehara village he found that it was practically deserted, most of the people









having fled into the forest for fear of the Abare (A Tenetehara corruption of the Portuguese name Abade, or Abbot). By dint of persuasion, gift distribution, and the promise that the Tenetehara would not be recruited by the Portuguese to work in the plantations for at least two years, as the law prescribed (Southey 1970, vol. 111:370), 70 Tenetehara were brought down to a place on the lower Pindar6 called Itaquy, which was located about 360 kilometers (60 leagues) upriver from Sao Lufs.

In addition to their fear of colonists, the Tenetehara were also afraid of attacks from other Indian tribes, as they were outside their own territory. The Itaquy mission was therefore short-lived as the Tenetehara kept running away back to their territory on the upper Pindar4. A few years later they were moved further downriver to Cajuipe. The Jesuits kept trying to recruit more Tenetehara from a place called Capytiba, probably on the upper Pindar4. In 1673, the Cajuipe mission was attacked by unnamed Indians, and it took special military help from Sao Luis to defend it. Finally, in 1683, with over 200 Tenetehara, this mission was transfered to Maracu, a place on the shores of an ox-bow lake on the lower Pindar,. At one point in the 1680s, for unknown reasons, the Jesuits tried once again to move this mission, this time to the Monim River near Portuguese settlements, but most of the Tenetehara refused to go. Some that did go tried to return to Maracu, and on the way back nine of them were killed by another Indian group (Bettendorf 1910:80, 81, 83, 271, 456, 468-9, 505, 568; Vieira 1925:392, 394ff; Leite 1943:186, 188; Moraes 1860:400-1, 408-415).

The Maracu mission was located on the fringes of the swampy fields, or perizes of the Baixada Maranhense (the draineage area of the Pindare, Graja6, Mearim, Itapecuru, Monim, and other minor rivers) and the.Amazonic









forest. Thus it provided, in Vieira's words, "the best pasture land in Maranho"' (Kiemen 1954:113 fn 111), on which to raise cattle, as well as plenty of forest land to grow sugar cane. The Jesuits capitalized on these resources with the efficiency that is well known of them, so much so that by 1730, Maracu had 15,600 cattle, 500 horses and burroes, and a prosperous sugar mill as well as the available labor of 440 Tenetehara (Leite 1943:188).

Throughout its 72 years of existence the Maracu mission prospered above all other Jesuit missions in Maranhao, much to the envy of the colonists of the Itapecuru and Monim area, who from time to time tried to make the Jesuits defer to them the right to recruit Tenetehara labor from that mission. In 1712, there came a royal order for the Jesuits to share Tenetehara labor with the inhabitants of Icatu on the Monim River. This order was in fact a reiteration of a similar order which had been issued a few years before, and which the Jesuits had protested. Finally, in 1725, a royal order prohibited the colonists from attempting to recruit Tenetehara labor, except in case of war (Anais 1948, Vol 67:101, 211-212).

The colonists, however, continued to keep a close eye on the Jesuits and their relations with the Tenetehara. In 1730, seven years after a new Jesuit mission was set up among the Tenetehara of the upper Pindar', a royal order granted the Jesuits permission to move this new mission, called S2o Francisco Xavier, five days down the upper Pindare to a place near the confluence of the Caru River. But the permission specified that the Jesuits were not allowed to use Tenetehara labor as they had been doing in their sugar mill on Maracu (Anais 1948, Vol 67:237-238).

The organization of Tenetehara life in the mission has not been








described by the Jesuit chroniclers of the colonial times (Antonio Vieira, Joao Felipe Bettendorf, and Jose de Moraes), nor by the recent Jesuit and Franciscan historians (Serafim Leite and Mathias Kiemen). But following the anthropologist Elman Service (1974:10) who reviewed the literature on the Jesuit mission system of Paraguayan,and the historian C. R. Boxer (1962:281-284) who did the same for other Jesuit missions in Brazil, we can feel confident in assuming that a mission as prosperous as Maracu had a type of schedule and discipline similar to the Paraguayan and other Brazilian missions. There were hours to study the Catechism, hours for prayer, hours for recreational activities, and hours for work. Bettendorf (1910:272) says that recreational activities were mainly of a religious nature, as taught by the Jesuits. In one of these feasts, the Tenetehara are described carrying the image of the Virgin about the village while singing: "Tupa cy angaturana, Santa Maria Christo Yara," which means approximately, "Tup6 my step-father, Lord Christ and Saint Mary."

In terms of labor organization, Furtado (1963:75) has analyzed Jesuit labor practices in another part of the Amazon area as essentially of the "servitude" type. By that he means that the Jesuits had the Indians working in the extraction of forest products (vanilla, cacao, and other "hinterland drugs") for in exchange for a few "small objects." In the case of the Tenetehara in Maranhao where such hinterland drugs-were lacking, but where there were sugar cane plantations, a sugar mill to be operated, and cattle to be tended, it is likely that Tenetehara labor was organized in more efficient terms, i.e., by rules of a strict schedule and clear cut tasks allocated to particular individuals. I have chosen to likenthis type of labor organization to the serfdom type. By that









it is meant a system of labor organization in which the laborers work for their patrons as part of their social obligations rather than as free individuals engaged in economic transactions. There was no cash payment involved, but instead, probably a sytem of credit payment which was kept by the Jesuits until the time when'the Tenetehara laborer was in need of it. By the law of 1655, those free Indians who were recruited to work in plantations were paid in a similar way: they were paid before leaving their villages and the money was kept in a box, one key to which was kept by the village administrator (Jesuit or secular, as the case may be), and the other by the appointed head of the village (Kiemen 1954:96ff). On their return from work they were given their wages, in commodities as already mentioned.

Although a serf laborer is not allowed to share in the profits of his master's enterprises, in this case cattle and sugar, he is allowed to own part of his labor's products, in this case, the products of agriculture, hunting, and fishing. But even here the Tenetehara were expected to furnish the Jesuits with meat and fish without any recompensation. Work done for the general good of the mission, such as in the building of the missionaries' residence, the church and school, was also done for no payment (Kiemen 1954:110).

The Tenetehara were not totally isolated from contact with the colonists of other areas of Maranhao. At least they met in Sao Lufs when the Tenetehara would take beef cattle from Maracu to be sold in the market of Sao Luis (Moraes 1860:415). However, there is no indication that through this contact and by virtue of the fact that the Tenetehara were given the responsibility of moving goods to a market, the Tenetehara ever acquired the ability to become traders or brokers, or any other









skill that would raise them above the level of serf laborers and subsistence oriented Indians.

The fact that the Jesuits kept the Tenetehara and many other Indian groups in their missions away from contact with civilization and in ignorance of the "arts of civilization," has been charged against them by many Brazilian historians, notably Caio Prado, Jr. (Prado 1967:98-101) as being a great impediment to the colonization of Maranh'o and Par', and particularly the integration of the Indians in the colonial society. In my opinion, this is an incorrect analysis of the economic situation in these areas. First, I have already presented cases in which the Jesuits actually helped the colonists in bringing Indians into the colonial sphere of influence. Second, as Kiemen (1954) has shown, the Jesuits made a series of consessions to the colonists that allowed for almost full utilization of Indian labor from their missions. Third, in areas where the economy was vigorous and prosperous the Jesuits taught the Indians a few important skills with which they could earn a living. When Spix and Martius (1938, vol. 11:462) made their famous trip across the Brazilian northeast in the second decade of the nineteenth century, they reported that the Indians of Aldeias Altas who had been missionized by the Jesuits until the latter's expulsion in 1758 were making a living by manufacturing and selling pottery. It is important to note here that the region of Aldeias Altas (later the town of Caxias) was an important entrepot and market for cattle fairs since the 1730s and for cotton after the 1760s.

In short, it is my view that the Jesuits are not to be blamed for

the economic backwardness of the area and the lack of Indian integration. The socio-economic conditions of Maranh~o allowed no other course. On









the other hand, the Jesuits should not be unduly credited for the survival of many Indian tribes because of their alleged eagerness in protecting the Indians from colonial predation. It is true that the Jesuits abhorred the idea and practices of enslaving peaceful Indians, but not all Indians in general. And as to using Indian labor in conditions hardly conducive to the improvement of their lot as free human beings, the Jesuits had no particular qualms about it. Indeed, several of Viera's letters (ex. Vieira 1925:279) talk about allowing the Jesuits to own slaves.

In a letter to the king of Portugal, Vieira (1925:436) makes the suggestion that captive Indians should be allocated "firstmost to the poorest [of the colonists]." These were non-propertied Portuguese, in fact, Azoreans who had imigrated to Maranhao in 1619 as part of a program set up by the Crown to colonize Maranhao. Their number on arrival is reported as 400 families (Kiemen 1925:25), and by 1693 they constituted what a contemporary chronicler called the "poverty" of Maranhao (Ferreira 1894:32). In the same letter Vieira further suggested that the religious missions should not set up either tobacco or sugar cane plantations, nor that the Indians should be obliged to work in them. This was a suggestion that is hard to take seriously, and the Crown never ruled on the matter, nor for that matter did the Jesuits follow Vieira's suggestion.

At any rate, Vieira obviously thought that Maranhao should be

colonized by small enterprises that used a limited amount of extra labor beyond the family's labor capacity, not the large estates with large retinues. Vieira's philosophy was similar to that of another Jesuit, Padre Ferngo Cardim, who lived in Bahia and was Vieira's early mentor (Cardim 1939). This philosophy probably reflected the best of Jesuit enlightenment at that time.









During his long life (1608-1697) Vieira had considerable personal influence on the kings of Portugal, but it is likely that he was needed by the Crown only inasmuch as the Crown thought his suggestions Were feasible within a general policy of colonization. The Crown needed settlers in its colonies to produce an economy that brought wealth to herself. And such an economy could only function in an atmosphere in which the colonists would be subservient to the Crown. Hence, it is argued here that the Crown heeded the Jesuits in their conflicts with the colonists for political purposes, rather than humanitarian considerations. The Jesuits were more obedient to the Crown than the colonists who, as they became economically strong, sought to achieve more control of the economic conditions in which they lived, including the trade with the mother country. In fact, the Beckman rebellion of 1684 in Maranhio was directed against the Estanco (a trade monopoly granted by the Crown to a Portuguese company which went against the economic interests of the colonists) as much as against the Jesuits (Kiemen 1954:143-151ff; Marques 1970:320-322).

The Jesuits' consciousness of being vassals of the king of Portugal is illustrated in a letter of Vieira to the King concerning the "pacification" of the Nheengaibas of the Maraj6 island. In his words, with the pacification of these people "Para is now secured and impenetrable to all foreign power" (Vieira 1925:568-569). The modern Franciscan historian Kiemen (1954:170, 180, 186), whose book somewhat apologetically hails the system of missions as the best and most feasible experiment in dealing with the Indians, even in comparison with modern methods, acknowledges the close relationship between the Portuguese Crown and the Jesuits until the death of King Dom Joao V in 1750.









In conclusion, as far as the Indians are concerned, Jesuits, colonists, and the Portuguese Crown should not be viewed in terms of the disputes among and between themselves as part of their di.fferent outlooks on the Indian, but rather as one political body with different parts that sought to recruit the Indian natives into the lowest social class of a society in the process of being-created. They were successful inasmuch as the economic conditions of the times allowed. If it is true that had it not been for the Jesuits some Indian tribes still in existence would have perished, it is equally true that many tribes would never have had been contacted and brought into extinction, if it were not for the Jesuits' actions. What remains as a fact is that more Indians were destroyed in these first two phases of interethnic relations that afterwards. Indians, after all, were the only source of labor of the colony. They were, in the words of a later historian, "the wealth of Maranh~o" (Marques 1970:306).














CHAPTER V
FREEDOM AND THE RISE OF PATRON-CLIENT RELATIONSHIP


By the end of the phases of slavery and serfdom, the Tenetehara

numbered 1,200 people, perhaps a little more. This is the only population figure we have for them and it comes from a Jesuit census made in 1730 (Leite 1943:188). There probably was some population growth in the interval between 1730 and 1755 but it was more than likely drastically counterbalanced by the disastrous smallpox epidemics of 1747-1751 (Marques 1970:337). In 1730, four hundred or so Tenetehara were living in Maracu mission, and the rest of them in the area under the control of Sao Francisco Xavier mission on the upper Pindar6 River.

Throughout the Jesuit period of control it is postulated that the Tenetehara of the two missions were in contact with each other. This contact was not merely in the form of occasional meetings between Tenetehara men who paddled the Jesuit canoes up and down the Pindard, but actually a permanent contact that involved ties of kinship. The Sao Francisco Xavier mission was probably a simple outpost of Jesuit control, not a full-fledged socio-economic operation as was Maracu, because its terrain was not suitable to either sugar cane plantations or cattle breeding. That it in fact existed is confirmed by a report of a German missionary, Father Winckler, who found some pieces of brass candle holders and other such paraphernalia in 1860 (Marques 1970:184).


IBoxer 1962:291 states that these epidemics took place between 1743 and 1750.









It is difficult to assess the lasting influence of the Jesuits on

Tenetehara culture. At the very least the Tenetehara acquired the belief ~2
in a Superior Being, called Tup in the lingua geral and Tupan in Tenetehara, as part of their cosmology and religious belief system. However, Tupa was never incorporated in Tenetehara mythology. The belief in saints, Catholic ritual, and such other things was quickly forgotten. Changes in the Tenetehara social organization, however much they actually occurred within the mission village system of serfdom, were not of long duration once the mission system was ended. Certainly the characteristics of post-Jesuitic Tenetehara social organization can be said to have been formed more as an adaptation to the contact situation with the colonists in the seventeenth century than from earlier Jesuitic influence. By and large, the significant influences on Tenetehara society after the Jesuit period were as much a result of the abolition of the mission system as the onset of new developments in the economy of Maranhao. This is a period in which the Tenetehara had a "break," so to speak, from contact with the colonial system.



Freedom and Transitional Contact: 1755-1840

In 1755, the Portuguese Crown under the authority of its Plenipotentiary minister, the Marquis of Pombal, issued two important decrees. The first was that the Indians were once again declared free regardless of whether they were captured in "just wars" or bought as captives of other Indian tribes. Consequently, although punitive or defensive wars


2The symbol /a/ stands for a low back vowel; /y/ stands for a middle high vowel. Other Tenetehara phonemes used here have the same quality as the letters which represent them as used in Spanish.









could still be waged against aggressive Indian groups, they could no longer be taken into captivity. Rather, conquered or "pacified" Indians were to be located in certain areas and provided with the "means for advancement," or integration into the colonial society. These "means for advancement" pertained to religious indoctrination to be carried out by secular or monastic (but not Jesuit) priests, economic betterment by the introduction of new crops, and the teaching of crafts skills. Political "advancement" meant learning how to organize their societies in terms of the Portuguese system of village organization. These last two "means" were to be taught by Portuguese skilled labor and an officially appointed administrator of the Indian villages. A policy of inter-marriage between Indians and the colonists was to be implemented as much as possible. This set of regulations was known as the Diretorio of 1755 (Prado 1967:101-7).

The second royal decree cancelled the previous temporal control of the Jesuits over their aldeias. Instead, these aldeias were to be declared vilas, or townships, if they contained over 150 people, and lugares, or hamlets, if their populations were less than 150. The administrative status of vila entailed a set of juridico-political offices, such as those of vereadores (aldermen), officiais da justi~a (judges), and juiz ordinario (bailiff). Inasmuch as possible, these vilas were to be administered by their own people, and the fact that many actually did so indicates that the Indians were well acculturated and knowledgeable about the Portuguese colonial system of administration. The lugares, however, were to be regulated by a colonial administrator in conjunction with the local Indian leadership. The custom of appointing a native headman as capito (captain) to mediate between his villagers and

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THE ETHNIC SURVIVAL OF THE TENETEHARA INDIANS OF MARANHAO, BRAZIL BY MERCIO PEREIRA GOMES A DISSERTATION PRESENTED TO THE GRADUATE COUNCIL OF THE UNIVERSITY OF FLORIDA IN PARTIAL FULFILLMENT OF THE REQUIREMENTS FOR THE DEGREE OF DOCTOR OF PHILOSOPHY UNIVERSITY OF FLORIDA 1977

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Copyright. By Mercio Perelra Gomes 1977

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This dissertation is dedicated to the memory of Eduardo Gustavo Eneas Galvao (1921-1976) and to Charles Wagley, Ethnographers of the Tenetehara who have understood the plight of the Indian and the plight of the caboclo as problems of humankind.

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ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS The Lowland South American Program has sponsored my graduate studies since I came to the University of Florida in the Fall of 1974. It also provided me with grants for travel and fieldwork in Brazil from June to December, 1975, and for the typing, editing and copying of this dissertation. I am most thankful to this Program and to its organizers, Drs. Charles Wagley, Paul Doughty, and William Carter. I cannot count the many other ways in which Dr. Charles Wagley has helped me. He has been a source of intellectual inspiration and challenge, of understanding and counsel. He and hi,s wife, Mrs. Cecilia Roxo Wagley have extended their warm friendship to my family and me. He has allowed me to read his and Dr. Eduardo Galvao's unpublished field notes of their visit to the Tenetehara in 1941-1945. He has done extensive editing and some important revision of this dissertation. I want to thank the other members of my committee, Drs. Maxine Margolis, Anthony Oliver-Smith, Paul Doughty, and Terry McCoy for their comments and editorial revisions of an early draft of this dissertation. I am thankful to Pride Hooper who careful ly edited the complete last draft of this dissertation. She and the members of my committee performed a service to me for which I am immensely grateful. Of course, the stylistic and theoretical shortcomings of this dissertation are my own responsibility. In addition I want to thank Mrs. Vivian Nolan, secretary of the Center for Latin American Studies, and Mrs. Lydia Deakin, of the iv

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Department of Anthropology for their kind help in lending their resources and knowledge of the University of Florida bureaucracy. I am grateful to Arlene Kelly for typing portions of an early draft, and particularly to Debbie Breedlove for typing the final copy of this dissertation. My wife Ann Elizabeth Baldwin-Gomes helped me during the first crucial months of fieldwork. She prepared the three maps presented here and also helped with suggestions for revisions of early drafts of this disseration. I would like to thank the following people and institutions in Brazil: Dr. Carlos Moreira Neto, of the Museu do Indio, Rio de Janeiro, who provided me with bibliographical and historical material which otherwise I would not have been able to obtain. The National Foundation for the Indian (FUNAI), for allowing me to live among the Tenetehara and to visit the Urubu-Kaapor and the recently contacted Guaja Indians. Deyse Lobao, Joao Moreira, Francisco Mourao, Jose Carlos Meireles, Domingos Pereira, Francisco Renno, all employees of FUNAI in Sao Luis, for their help in various stages of field work. The Curia Custodial of the Igreja de Sao Carmo in Sao Luis, and its secretary. Father Oswaldo, for letting me read an important part of their archive on the Alto Alegre Mission of 1895-1901. Dr. and Mrs. Carl Harrison, of the Summer Institute of Linguistics, for their help when I contracted malaria near their village and for sharing their experiences among the Tenetehara. Dona Maria Dolores Maia, who has been involved with the Tenetehara as a teacher since 1941, for her kindness and help while I was in Grajau. Raimundo Viana, also of Grajau, a former employee of the Servigo de Protegao aos Indies , for letting me use his personal files in addition to providing me with important personal information on the V

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history of local Brazilian-Indian relations. Finally I want to thank the Tenetehara Indians, particularly Gentil, Antonio Guajajara, Joaquinzinho , Alderico, Virgolino and his family, Jose Lopes, and the Brazilians Maria Oliveira and Francisco de Assis who are married to Tenetehara, for their help, tolerance, and candor. vi

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TABLE OF CONTENTS ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS LIST OF TABLES ' ' , ' LIST OF FIGURES ^ ABSTRACT ' CHAPTER I , . The Field Situation I CHAPTER II The Tenetehara in the Modern World ]9 Indians and Brazilians ig Indians and FUNAI 26 Indians and the New Economic Developments 30 CHAPTER III Theoretical Orientation 34 CHAPTER IV Formation of Inter-Ethnic Relations 53 The Phase of Slavery: 1613-1653 58 Serfdom Phase: 1653-1755 74 CHAPTER V , Freedom and the Rise of Patron-Client Relationships 85 ^ Freedom and Transitional Contact: 1755-1840 86 Indians and the Economic Frontiers 93 The Period of Patron-Client Relationships: ' 1840-1910 95 The Provinical Indian Policy System: 1840-1889 97 The Alto Alegre Incident and the Grajau-Barro do Corda Region ]09 The Gurupi and Pindare Regions 121 CHAPTER VI The Twentieth Century and the Role of the SPI/FUNAI 126 ' The Mediating Role of the SPI/FUNAI . 130 , vii

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•> CHAPTER VII . Tenetehara Economic System: An Overview 173 Production Forces " •]77 Production Relations • "Igg Trade Economies . . -jg^ Aboriginal Tenetehara Economy 187 General Changes in the Aboriginal Tenetehara Economic System . igi CHAPTER VIII Trade Economy Through Patron-Client Relations 195 Trade Economy in the Gurupi River Region 198 Trade Economies of the Pindare Region 202 Trade Economies in the Grajau Region 223 CHAPTER IX • . Tenetehara Economic System: Recent Developments 240 Tenetehara Internal Economy 2B2 Production Forces 252 Production Relations 257 Conclusions 266 , CHAPTER X Conclusion 269 GLOSSARY , 280 • BIBLIOGRAPHY . 285 BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH 295 viii

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LIST OF TABLES Table 1 Tenetehara Reservations, Indian Posts, and Population Table 2 Infant Mortality Rate of Tenetehara Table 3 Trade Value of Tenetehara Production in 1862 Table 4 Tenetehara Sales in 1936 Table 5 Prices of Tenetehara Products, 1936-1945 Table 6 Prices of Brazilian goods sold to the Tenetehara, 1941-1942, 1 945 ' Table 7 . Trade Balance of Market Value of Tenetehara Transactions Table 8 Receipts of Purchase and Sale of Lumber, April 1955 Table 9 Local Price Offers for Indian Products in 1954 Table 10 Prices obtained by the Grajau Agent ix

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LIST OF FIGURES Figure 1. Tenetehara Reservations Figure 2, Indian Groups in Colonial Times Figure 3. Tenetehara Migrations in the Nineteenth Century Figure 4. Hierarchical Levels of Economic Analysis Figure 5. Network of Traders in the Pindare Region Figure 6. Network of Settlements and Village Areas

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Abstract of Dissertation Presented to the Graduate Council of the University of Florida in Partial Fulfillment of the Requirements for the Degree of Doctor of Philosophy THE ETHNIC SURVIVAL OF THE TENETEHARA INDIANS OF MARANHAO, BRAZIL By Mercio Pereira Gomes August 1977 Chairman: Charles Wagley Major Department: Anthropology This is a study of the ethnic survival of the Tenetehara Indians of the State of Maranhao, Brazil. The Tenetehara are presently one of the largest Indian groups in Brazil, comprising a total population of about 4,300 people. There are over 40 Tenetehara villages located in five reservation areas in the State of Maranhao. All of these areas have recently suffered invasions of Brazilian landless peasants. This, along with the aggressive ' interests of local landowners, has caused a great deal of anxiety on the part of the Tenetehara. They have been helped by the National Foundation for the Indian (FUNAI) in combating this threat to their lands, but the situation is still to be legally solved. In 1975, there was some friction between the Tenetehara and Brazilian peasants and landowners concerning the boundaries of Tenetehara lands and the expulsion of the peasants from these lands. The ownership of land looms as the greatest problem for the continuing existence of the Tenetehara as well as other Indian groups.

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This dissertation focuses on the Tenetehara mode of production, of which the land question is but one basic factor. The Tenetehara mode of production is analyzed as an important element for the continuing existence of the Tenetehara ethnic group. This analysis is carried out in both historical and structural terms. The Tenetehara have been in contact with Western civilization for over 350 years. They have suffered but successfully survived the impact of Western diseases, the processes of predation, enslavement, serfdom, and the general dominance of the forming Brazilian society. They have modified their society and culture in order to survive this impact, but in this they have not simply stood as passive recipients. They have also reacted to this impact and in the process they have played a part in shaping the kind of contact relationship they have had with the Brazilian society. This contact relationship has taken place because of the mutual need of Brazilians and Tenetehara to obtain goods from each other. In this process the Tenetehara have modified their mode of production, and . consequently their society and culture in general, to meet the market demands for their goods. However, they have continued, with some exceptions, to produce for internal consumption, thus keeping the economic basis upon which their ethnic autonomy rests. The process of acculturation and loss of ethnic identification has taken place when the conditions for the continuation of production for internal consumption were superseded by the conditions for production for trade and by the rapid increase of the Brazilian population in the area. The Tenetehara have survived, and indeed have increased their ' population since aboriginal times, becyase they have been able to maintain a distinct mode of production apart from that of the Brazilian

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society. The future of the Tenetehara lies in continuing this strategy, a possibility which poses new problems in view of the recent developments of the rural Maranhao society.

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/ CHAPTER I THE FIELD SITUATION "Those people are not real Indians! Indians are like the Canella!" This statement was made to me by the commissioner ( delegado ) of the Sixth Regional Office of the Rinda^ Nacio^ or National Foundation for the Indian) in Sa~o Luis, state of Maranhao. He was referring to the Tenetehara Indians who are under his jurisdiction. The Tenetehara Indians are known in the region as Guajajara, a Tupi word which means "owner of the feathered head ornament" ( wazai-zara in the Tenetehara language). In the state of Par^ where there used to be two or three thousand Tenetehara in the nineteenth century (they now number less than 100 people) they are known as Tembe, also a Tupi word meaning "lower-1 ip"-probably from a kind of lip plug which they formerly lised. But the Tenetehara call themselves by this name which, according to Dr. Carl Harrison (personal communication), means "we are the true people" ( ten-ete-hara ). Why the Tenetehara, in contrast to the Canella, are not "real Indians" was further explained to me by the commissioner. "They are almost civilized," he said, "well acculturated," in short, "they live just like our caboclos" (Brazilian backwoodsmen). I was told that the Tenetehara spoke fairly good Portuguese, dressed in Brazilian style, and had few "primitive" customs left. They could not even manufacture decent bows and arrows, and their handicraft goods, like necklaces broke

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2 easily because they used cheap mass-produced cotton string instead of the natural fibers that the Canella used. Being "well accul turated" or leading a life in the manner of the caboclos are more or less synonymous statements, and they had been used to categorize the Tenetehara by two or three anthropologists with whom I had discussed my project in Brazil. For those anthropologists such statements implied that I was probably wasting my time by going to a field situation in which I would not be able to procure much new data on a society whose culture had already been described (Wagley and Galvao 1949) and was at any rate very " caboclizado " (caboclo-1 ike) . For the commissioner, the assumption that the Tenetehara were caboclizado colored his judgments and feelings about the Tenetehara as his charges. He described them as "troublemakers" ( encrengueiros ) , very unyielding and disobedient. They no longer shared things with one another, and were generally not to be trusted as they themselves trusted, no one, not even their own people and relatives. They were neither Indians nor "civilized" pfeople; they were a mixed breed, sort of cultural mestizos, which in the eyes of the commissioner made them, to put it mildly, a tough lot to administer. Along with this subjective information I procured some more objective data while still in Sao Lufs. According to a FUNAI census, the Tenetehara could now be numbered at some 4,300 people (excluding the Tembe of Para state) living in a vast area that ranged from the municfpios (counties) of Moncao and Pindare-Mirim in Northern Maranhao, south through the municipfos of Amarante, Grajau, and Barra do Corda. There were now eight Indian Posts ( postos indigenas ) in these areas exclusively to take care of the Tenetehara. The number of Tenetehara villages had been

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3

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counted in 1975 at approximately 40, which would give us an average of no people per vi llage. This was welcome news for me as I had come to reexamine the Tenetehara some 34 years after Charles Wagley, Eduardo Galvao, Nelson Teixeira, and Rubens Meanda first visited the Tenetehara of the Pindare and lower Zutiua Rivers (cf. Wagley and Galvao 1949; 1961). In view of the prediction in their book that "It is only a question of a generation or so until the Tenetehara become peasants and Brazilians," (1949 edition, page 183) I was frankly expecting a much smaller population, if indeed a separate ethnic group at all! As I spent more time in the offices of FUNAI in Sao Luis more disturbing news was presented to me. In all the areas where the Tenetehara lived they were having disputes over land with Brazilian landowners and peasants. By law, land disputes are to be mediated by FUNAI as the legal guardian of Indian lands, but in some areas disputes were attaining proportions of potential armed conflict between the Tenetehara and the peasants or the landowners, as the case might be. Officials of FUNAI in SSo Luis were rather nervous about the recent developments of land disputes in the Indian Post areas of Bacurizinho, Anjico Torto, and Pindare. The commissioner was busily sending cables to FUNAI headquarters in Brasilia, urging them to take more decisive and authoritative action to bring about an end to these problems. FUNAI was also in permanent contact with the Federal Police in Sao Lufs in the eventuality of an armed conflict between Tenetehara and Brazilians. There was fear of genocfda! warfare on the part of the peasants, and there was fear of Tenetehara guerilla warfare in alliance with the Ge speaking Krikati and Gaviao Indians, as was rumored to have happened in the Anjico Torto area.

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5 The intervention of the Federal Police would be called upon in case of aggression from stubborn Brazilian peasants who refused to leave Tenetehara land or Tenetehara who decided to resolve the matter on their own and expel the peasants. The job of the Federal Police would be to evacuate the invaders and keep them from getting in trouble. In the meantime, the commissioner talked one day with a Tenetehara capitao (officially appointed headman), the next with a disgruntled landowner or peasant who claimed to have a stake in the supposed Tenetehara land. Each disputant would present his claims with a certain amount of deference due a high official of the government, and with a high amount of defensi veness and assurance of the righteousness of his claim. The Brazilians often complained of the Tenetehara doing some .mischief to their cattle or crops. In many of these cases, the Brazilians seemed to be gaining the commissioner's conviction that they were correct in their claim as they often were in possession of a land title duly certified and notorized in the cartorios (record offices) of the municipio where the disputed land was located. And the Tenetehara most often had only their word that some years back an SPI ( Service de Protecao aos Indios -Indian Protection Service, the government agency that preceded FUNAI until late 1967) official had demarcated their land and set the limits with the concurrence of all the neighboring parties in question. The commissioner himself had copies of these land limitation settlements from SPI times but there was some doubt as to proper limits due to inexact legal descriptions used in the land settlements. Furthermore, as he had assumed his post in Sao Lufs just six months previously, and therefore knew neither the Tenetehara nor their lands to an intimate degree, he was rather prone to believe that the Tenetehara were trying to

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6 get the better of him. In one case where he had met with a large number of Tenetehara assembled at an Indian Post to discuss land limits, he had come out much impressed by the accuity of the Indians' knowledge of the limits to lands which had been granted to them twenty or more years back; on the other hand, he was unsure of their veracity. As a former SPI Indian agent used to announce publicly, "If it were by the Indians' account every piece of land in the state of MaranhSo would belong to them. " Amidst the hustle and bustle of some 20 employees in the small offices of FUNAI, I met a young woman who was in charge of the education program for the Indians of Maranhao. She was the one who showed me the statistics on Indian populations, maps of the Indian areas, and she took her time to let me know that she was very happy that I had come to study the Tenetehara. The Tenetehara, she told me, were a great, friendly people, always amusing themselves with jokes, hard working, somewhat ' "disorganized," but intelligent and cunning, no one's fool; and they deserved to have an anthropologist come and live with them to know more about them--as the Canella have had for many years now. Furthermore, she told me that the Tenetehara were misunderstood by everyone who came in contact with them, including the high officials of FUNAI. Consequently the Tenetehara were always being neglected by FUNAI and looked upon as a nuisance. She was proud to say that the Tenetehara, against all odds, held their own as an ethnic group with a native language, customs, and worldview. And moreover, they wanted to continue to be a separate ethnic group, and only in this way become incorporated into the "national community."

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7 The education program for which she was responsible had been started in 1972 when a Summer Institute of Linguistics linguist-missionary wrote a series of primers in Portuguese and Tenetehara, and FUNAI had decided to institute a bilingual education program for the Tenetehara, as they were doing for other Brazilian Indian groups. The program consisted of the training of bilingual teachers, or monitores . who were selected among the Tenetehara for their potential for learning how to read, write, and teach in both Portuguese and the Tenetehara languages. This period of training had started in the dry season of 1972 (June-November), and she had so far spent a total of nine months (in three yearly periods of three months) training some 40 Tenetehara to go back to their villages and begin teaching. Of the 40 students, nineteen had shown sufficient ability, learned the proper method, and were ready to begin work. In fact, many of them had already been teaching since late 1974 but so far they had not received a penny for their work, and had consequently stopped the classes. She was now, as she had been ever since she took on this job, fighting the FUNAI bureaucracy to release the money to pay the monitores and to continue with the program. These monitores had the equivalent of the Brazilian third grade education, and they were eager to get more education to be able to finish the equivalent of elementary school. There was, therefore, a need for more training. Moreover, according to personal reports from the teachers, she said that the classes that had been held were received most eagerly by Tenetehara of all ages. The complaints had been only that they had not had enough, that the teachers had not been paid, and that the promised school lunch had never been delivered. I could not help but feel instant liking for this hard-working young

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8 woman who was so enthusiastic about the Tenetehara. As I observed the way other employees moved about, she appeared to be an odd cog in the wheels of bureaucracy. They treated her with misgivings and in some cases, rather callously. As I found out later her salary was among the lowest salaries paid in all of FUNAI, superior only to the salaries of janitors, office boys, and manual workers, and lower even than the salaries that the Tenetehara monitores that she had helped train were supposed to get. As I talked to her I found out that one of these Tenetehara monitores was going to arrive in Sao Luis in a couple of days. He was one of the few respected Tenetehara capitaes for his good command of Portuguese, his grasp of what was going on in the land dispute in his own area, and for his way of getting things done with the commissioner. I was told that his village was located in the upper Mearim River, municfpio of Grajau, in an area which was not only centrally located in terms of Tenetehara territory, but was also having hotly contested disputes with neighboring Brazilians. Not quite a month had passed since some Tenetehara had supposedly slapped mud on the face of an ornery Brazilian landowner who had insulted and threatened the Indians to leave "his" land. This could be the best place for me and my wife, she said, because his village was fairly well "organized," with little or no competition between family groups because of his strong leadership. There was an Indian Post nearby and no missionaries in the area, two factors which in her mind would facilitate fieldwork and quick rapport with the villagers. Above all, in that area the Tenetehara still retained certain old customs, such as the girls' initiation rites, and they had been talking of performing the Honey Feast, the most beautiful and touching of the

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y Tenetehara social rituals (cf. Wanl.y and GalvSo 1949:122-125). And finally, fro. there I could travel to a n,ore "accul turated" area to the east, and to the least acculturated Tenetehara area to the northwest. I agreed. I would wait and talk to the capitSo about staying in his vi 1 lage. But to return to my first experiences in SSo Lufs, as I had first walked into the front yard of the FUNA, office, , had noticed a s™,, „,an with a copper brown complexion sitting in a chair, arms folded across his lap, and with stooped shoulders, in an attitude of dismay and indifference He looked about 55 to 60 years old, as far as I could tell. He was dressed in a short-sleeved white cotton shirt and dark cotton pants, both of which had patches in several places and the underarm seam was ripped. He was very quiet, barely nodding agreement when addressed by people around him. Upon asking 1 „as told that he was a Tenetehara named Manuel' fromAnjico Torto, an area which was having considerable trouble in terms of land invasion by Brazilian peasants. Manuel had been sent up to Sao Lufs by the Indian Post agent of his area to be "disciplined." Apparently he had lost his temper over the fact that a Brazilian peasant was living on Tenetehara land, and he had gone to this man's place, killed one of his pigs and threatened to kill him too if he didn't "get the hell opt" of Indian land. The Indian agent, though sympathetic with Manuel's feelings, had decided that a talk with the commissioner, a higher authority than he! was necessary to cool him off. "Lucky break," I thought to myself excitedly for here was the first Brazilian Indian I had ever seen. I went up to Manuel, greeted him, anci^_sk_edJ^^could come up and see him this evening. f,e was going to their'lnon^^nr' ^"'""^^^^^ ^^^^ ^^--^^'^ to preserve

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10 stay in the Casa do fndio (Indian House), a kind of hostel owned and run by FUNAI that lodges Indians who come to Sao Luis for medical treatment or other business. A FUNAI jeep was ordered to take Manuel to his place and as our hotel was nearby in the downtown area we hopped in for the ride. That evening my wife and I walked the three blocks of narrow and winding paved streets of downtown S~ao luU, and knocked on the door of a freshly painted green house that, like all downtown SSo Luis houses, was separated from the street only by a three foot wide sidewalk. A Brazilian woman peeped through the door view and told us there was no Indian by the name of Manuel there. As I insisted that I had permission from FUNAI to come there another woman came up to the door and recognized me. She was a FUNAI nurse in charge of the health and treatment of the Indians who came there. We were led into what could be called the TV room: a portable TV was turned on, and two plastic-covered couches were placed on either side of it. The room smelled musty, as though it never got any fresh air. One husky Indian wearing prescription glasses, who I somehow sensed to be a Canella, was talking to some young children whom the Brazilian women were trying to put to bed. These children were two three year old girls, a seven year old and two adolescent boys. They were all Guaja Indians, one of the last remaining hunting and gathering tribes that speaks a Tupi language. They had been brought to Sao Luis two or three years before. Two Guaja bands had been encountered somewhere on the Caru River and these children, along with two or three adults who later died, had contracted intestinal and pulmonary diseases. Their health was improving, but they were always recovering from occasional colds and diarrhea. Their diet was being

PAGE 24

watched as well as, in the case of the boys, their sexual behavior and demeanor. The little girls were much appreciated and loved by all around them. They had been given Brazilian names and were being taught Portuguese words like mamae (mommy) and titia (auntie), etc. The boys were rather morose and steadfastly refused to speak Portuguese or talk to anyone but each other or one or another Tenetehara or Urubu-Kaapor Indian who resided in the Indian House. . Manuel was laying in a hammock in one of the rooms where the Indians were lodged. Someone went to fetch him as we were led into the dining room where there was a table, chairs and buffet. Manuel came into the dining room and as we were sitting down we were joined by another Tenetehara Indian, Celestino, also from Manuel's village. Celestino called Manuel " cumpa " Manuel (from compadre , Portuguese for cofather), but he seemed to be acting more deferential to Manuel than the term "cumpa" implies, perhaps because of the age factor. Celestino had come to Sao Luis for an operation on a tumor that had grown on his back and for other minor ailments. Our conversation began by my relating to them that I was not working for FUNAI and that I wanted to visit their village and learn about their ' way of life. They looked at me rather intently, with only an occasional nod or grunt as if to let me know that they were listening and wanted to hear the next utterance. We smoked and then we began talking about the land question and then Manuel's eyes were sparkling and he began to tell me why he had killed the karaiw 's ("white man" in Tenetehara) pig. The karaiw had shot Manuel's brother one year ago leaving a widow and two orphans. He had also killed Manuel's grandmother at an unspecified time and through unspecified means. He had been taken to Amarante, the

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12 municrpio's seat where he had been jailed and badly beaten. But then he was released and had returned to Indian land and now Manuel wanted to kill him. When I mentioned that if he killed this man he would likewise leave a family without a father to support them, Manuel just retorted, "That's how it is . . . Manuel said where they live there used to be no Brazilians, except one or two families, until two years ago when a road construction company bought a large area of land to the east of the Indian land and began to build a road right through the edge of the land from the town of • GrajaJ to a Brazilian village called Arame, where there used to be a Tenetehara village. Then the caboclos started to come there in search of land, and^as all other land belonged to this company or established landowners, they had just settled on Indian land. There were about 6,000 families, I was told, with land cleared all around and settlements growing up by the day. Manuel said that game which used to be abundant was running away from all the bustle and noise. The Indians were being pushed further back into the jungle, he felt.' But if I would come there I was going to like it for there was still plenty of game and an abundance ( fartura ) of produce ( legumes ): manioc, maize, yams, sweet potatoes, beans, fava beans, "everything you needed." Celestino said there was a big lake there, called Lago Branco, which was enchanted (encantado ) . You could hear dogs barking at night and once a flock of jandaia parrots had been seen flying over it and then to disappear into the waters. That is where the Tenetehara go hunting in the dry season to get meat to barbacue for the girls' initiation rite. Celestino and Manuel were longing for their land, to return to their families.

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13 The next day we met Alberto, the minitor-capitao of BacurizTnho who had come to bring the commissioner a document to prove that the land in dispute had been bought by the SPI from a landowner in 1959, and therefore was Indian's land. He was a short, bulky man with a fat belly the like of which I have never seen on any other Indian. He had a drooping "Genghis Khan" moustache (another unique trait as most Tenetehara who sport moustaches prefer the 1940s "Clark Gable" style), a potentially heavy beard, squarish face and head, medium brown eyes with a slight epicanthic fold, and two of his lower incisors were missing, while two upper teeth were decorated with gold. His personality was different, it seemed to me, from the personalities of the other two Tenetehara I had talked to in the Indian House. He listened attentively but with a touch of nonchalance, and answered in moderate tones, always observing how you would react. He was very proficient in Portuguese and could easily pick up on innuendoes and ironic statements. He knew how to be ironic or sarcastic and could also make direct critical statements to people, in this case, keeping a straight, serious face. If what he said was laughed at or challenged as of doubtful validity, he would look down to his feet or hands (if he was sitting), and mutter something like "Well , if you say so . . ." If someone made him laugh he would do so heartily or moderately as the occasion demanded. Alberto had a way of prevailing upon some of the FUNAI functionaries, even the commissioner, that left them always with a bitter aftertaste. He was a bully in one case, and slightly cajoling in the other. He knew it and figured that he might as well keep doing it as long as it worked. He looked in his prime, about 36 years old and on the rise.

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14 Alberto told me that he had been capita~o of Bacurizinho since 1963 when a former SPI commissioner had appointed him as such. (Actually his appointment was made in 1973 although in 1963 he had been given the obscure task of taking care of a non-existent Indian Post.) Previously his father had been the capitao of Bacurizinho, but he had died in 1958 of intestinal or pulmonary diseases ("he used to smoke a lot of marijuana") From 1958 to 1963 Bacurizinho had been "governed" by a council of adult men in lieu of a strong man that would lead the village. Now Bacurizinho was well ruled, well organized and disciplined. It had some 500 people, he said. As it turned out it had about 290 people which nonetheless places Bacurizinho as the largest Tenetehara village on record. ' Yes, I could come and live there with my wife and learn how to speak the Tenetehara language. We could take the bus Saturday night or Sunday morning to Grajau, do some shopping there Monday and then go to Bacurizinho the next day by renting a pick-up truck that would take us to the nearby Indian Post. Everything was pretty much decided and as a conclusion to our interview I asked him about kinship terms and got the uneasy picture that the Tenetehara had a mixture of lineal and bifurcate merging systems in the first ascending generation and a Hawaiian in ego's own generation. Wagley and Galv^-o (1949) had reported a bifurcate merging system-but at that moment I could not dispute the word of a principal informant. And at any rate, I was asking him questions not so much to gather ethnographic data, but only to get his view of the general situation. I was wary of what people were telling me and not ready to trust anyone in particular. I was. going to check everything out for myself, an attitude which came quite naturally under these circumstances. It was only

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15 months later that I was able to confirm or dismiss the veracity of someone's information. In some cases I was pleasantly surprised to find that so and so's view of a situation had been truthfully stated or at least not purposely misstated. As a rule, it now seems to me, factual or analytically correct information was obtained only after the first month of my stay in the state of Maranhao-both from Tenetehara as well as Brazilian informants. It was necessary for me to have a certain amount of previous knowledge of a particular situation in order to get a ' complete picture of it. Whether because the problems I wanted to learn about were themselves unclear or controversial, such as the land question, ethnohistory, inter-ethnic relations, economic organization, and a changing social structure, or because of the character of my informants, the methodology I found most suitable was the dialogue, and in some cases, the debate. In either case the positions I took were generally consistent with my views whether I was talking to a Brazilian landowner about the land question or the Tenetehara about cosmological views. Straight data interviewing was done only in the case of demographical statistics. Having been raised in a rural area of Brazil similar to that of interior Maranhao, I felt I had an advantage in that I have a similar Portuguese accent and had a certain "instinct" that would help present myself as an anthropologist without raising undue suspicion and lack of cooperation. Nevertheless it took some time before people in the town of Grajau stopped addressing me as if I were a " paulista " (from Sao Paulo State) or "nmieiro" (from Minas Gerais State) capitalist in search of land to buy. And on one occasion when I was stranded at the crossroads of a highway half sick with malaria and had to stay in the "hotel"

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16 Of a cearense (from Ceara State) jack-of-all-trades I never was able to convince this man that I was not a Federal Police investigator. Land buyers and undercover police, therefore, were apparently what the Brazilians were seeing the most of in those times. On the positive side, being an anthropologist and not a sociologist was what saved me from potential trouble when I was questioned by a Federal Police captain investigating the marijuana traffic of the area. He reasoned that sociology had something to do with socialism, while anthropologists are interested in innocuous things, like dances, rituals/and artifacts. Among the Tenetehara, in the villages of Bacurizinho and Ipu, I was fairly quickly accepted as a FUNAI employee of sorts. My position was enhanced when I participated in the meetings in GrajaJ arranged by FUNAI to mediate on the land question between the Tenetehara of the Bacurizinho Indian Post and a nearby landowner. There was a problem in interpreting the phraseology of a deed of agreement made in 1959 between, the SPI and an in-law of this landowner, and I was able to persuade the commissioner that the said landowner was trying to misinterpret the original deed. The good news of my taking a stance in favor of the Tenetehara soon spread among them, and that helped me when I began to question them about their ethnohistory. They became eager to tell me how they have been losing ground to the karaiw and how now it was time ' for them to take a stronger posture, if only FUNAI would be of some help. Throughout the fi ve months of field research (between July and December, 1975) in four of the five Tenetehara reservation areas the situation was one of constant expectation that something drastic might break out. Eventually it did in the Anjico Torto Indian Post area where there was a large number (perhaps as many as 2,000 families) of Brazilian

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17 peasants settled on Indian land. In February, 1975, FUNAI had given these peasants until September to harvest their manioc and rice crops and pack up and leave. By the middle of November most of them had left either on their own or coerced by the Federal Police, but some stubborn families had remained, spurred on by local politicians and landowners, in the hope that the Tenetehara would relinquish or lose their claim. Finally the Indian Post agent, an extraordinarily energetic and fearless defender of the Tenetehara rights to their lands and way of life, had gathered some twenty or thirty Tenetehara men and driven to the invaded area to give a final notice of evacuation to the remaining peasant invaders. But one man and his son refused to budge and threatened to kill the agent if he did not leave immediately. Somehow the agent got a hold of the man's gun and was wrestling it away from him when the man's son came up from behind and managed to stick the point of a knife into the agent's back before he was pulled back. The Tenetehara immediately jumped on the two peasants and reportedly beat them to a pulp. The agent was taken to an airstrip and was flown to Sao Luis where he soon recovered from the wound. Rumors and counter rumors of imminent attacks and further killing ' spread from both sides, leaving the whole area in more tension. But by the end of December only one more killing had been perpetrated by the Tenetehara. (I have not subsequently been able to gain any further news of this situation.) At the time of my departure in late December no Tenetehara had been brought to trial and it is unlikely that any ever will by virtue of their special immunity as wards of the Federal government. The peasants, at any rate, in most other situations as well, seemed to lack the benefit of a juridicial system.

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18 Having come to Maranhao expecting only a few Tenetehara to be still living as an ethnic group apart from the Brazilian society, I found, on the contrary, a growing population of Tenetehara who had become conscious of their ethnic identification, particularly in terms of holding their land. This was an experience which soon made me change not only previous notions of Tenetehara acculturation but also my views on the supposed inevitability of other Indian groups' ethnic extinction. Throughout the year 1975 several Indian groups had in various ways rebelled against their historical fate of miscengenation and ethnic extinction. The Xavante in the state of Mato Grosso, the Xokleng and Kaingang in Southern Brazil as well as the Tenetehara were making news almost weekly for their concerted action in protecting their respective lands. In most cases reported, the protection of their lands seemed to be the rallying cry against Brazilian encroachment.

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CHAPTER II THE TENETEHARA IN THE MODERN WORLD' These first impressions of my encounter with a few Tenetehara Indians convey a sense of how an anthropologist approaches a confusing situation for field research. Further introductory information, however, is necessary before I can properly state the problem of this dissertation. One must understand the traditional relationship of the Tenetehara Indians with their Brazilian neighbors and the changing nature of these social and economic ties. Fundamental to the changing situation of the Tenetehara Indians is their dependency upon the increasing power of Brazilian governmental agencies, especially the National Foundation for the Indian (FUNAI), in the region. Furthermore, related to both the Indian and FUNAI is the rapid encroachment of modern agricultural and cattle raising enterprises into the region. This chapter will therefore focus upon these relationships, bureaucratic agencies, and the new economic trends in the region. The basic problem, as stated earlier, is the struggle for land in which the Indian, their Brazilian peasant neighbors, the governmental agencies, and the new capitalistic agricultural and cattle enterprises participate. Indians and Brazilians In the first place, the personalities of Manuel and Celestino can be analyzed in terms of their individual knowledge of, and position 19

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20 relative to, the Brazilian society. Although they do not cover the whole continuum, Manuel and Celestino are representative of the vast majority of the Tenetehara people. They live mainly through their production in hunting, fishing, and agriculture--which activities are carried out by nuclear family, or extended family, groups (see Chapters VI, VII and VIII ). With the surplus from these activities as well as from the extraction of forest products and recently the manufacture Of crafts, they enter into relations with the Brazilian society via a trade economy. In turn they obtain the necessary goods, such as for example iron implements, clothes, kerosene, guns, gun powder, and flash lights without which life would be too uncomfortable. They may also occasionally hire themselves out as day laborers to Brazilian peasants or big landowners. Both the trade economy and the hire of one's labor involve a kind of social relationship which I call patron-cl ientship. This relationship entails a system of credit granted by the patron to his clients and the obligation of the client to do business with the creditor-patron. Credit is usually extended in the form of commodities, as most patrons are also owners of trade stores, but it can be in cash as well. Socially it entails the subordination of the client to his patron; this subordination is expressed in the low profile of Tenetehara behavior in Brazilian towns and the patronizing attitude of the patrons toward their clients both in the towns and in their visits to Tenetehara villages. The difference between Manuel and Celestino is that the former is older (about 55 years of age) and hence less productive. He therefore has a more restricted sphere of relations with Brazilians, and hence less reason to relate to them, to know about them beyond the pragmatic aspects of the patron-client relationship. People like Manuel tend to be

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21 conservative-minded as far as ethnic identification is concerned. When friction between Brazilians and Tenetehara arises they provide the leadership of Tenetehara reaction to Brazilians, whether or not this reaction manifests itself individually or through concerted action. Celestino, on the other hand, is a middle age man of about 35 years which is, in fact, the most productive years of a man's life. He is at a point in his life when he must create a kin group of his own principally by marrying off his sons and daughters and keeping them under his control. Therefore he desires to have more of the Brazilian goods in order to pave his way to the, status of head of an independent extended family. Thus people like Celestino tend to form larger networks of interaction with Brazilians and tend to know more of Brazilian ways. They are more flexible and less entrenched in their ethnic identification, perhaps having in mind the possibility that they may have to leave their village and live like a Brazilian peasant, at least for a time. People like Celestino are considered "good Indians" by Brazilians as opposed to people like Manuel who are viewed as "bad Indians." In addition to the Manuels and Celestinos there is another main type of Tenetehara man, the young married man. These men are structurally under the control of older men as heads of extended family groups. Even those young married men who, for demographic reasons, are not part of an extended family group, but live and produce their means of subsistence by the nuclear family arrangement, are nevertheless dependent upon the control of the rest of the society, i.e., the middle aged and older adult males. This control is expressed internally in how a particular village organizes communal projects, such as the moving of the village to another site, and externally by the way the Brazilians relate to them.

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22 That is, Brazilians relate to them with the assumption that they can only rely on them through the sanction of the older men of the village. This sanction occurs in the form of the trust and reliability in which the older men, "responsible" for the young men, are held by the Brazilians. In fact, the vast majority of the Tenetehara including the women irrespective of age, are generally treated by Brazilians as Indians who can be manipulated by dint of small favors and concessions which are granted in the process of ordering them around and making them feel that they are under the power of the Brazilian society. This type of social relationship, which will be analyzed historically in the next chapter, is essentially the same type which FUNAI uses in relating to the Tenetehara. These social relations are changing somewhat, and this change has been brought about by the recent economic developments in the Tenetehara regions. These changes are epitomized in the problem of land invasions and the inability of FUNAI as the "big patron" to solve it. The Tenetehara still feel that FUNAI should be their mediator in relation to this problem, but they no longer feel that they must accept the dictates of FUNAI, such as that of conceding portions of their land to effect a compromise and save FUNAI from national embarrassment. They demand of FUNAI the' legal protection of their land, and some political support (e.g., the military support of the Federal Police), but the Indians themselves are willing to provide the grass roots protective measures such as attempting to prevent invaders on reservation land. This is a new attitude of consciousness of their problems as an ethnic group separate from the national society, and consciousness of the role which they must play in order to keep their separate identity.

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23 This attitude is also reflected in the relations with local Brazilians, particularly now that the credit basis of patron-cl ientship is being superseded by the appearance of credit agencies, such as the National Institute of Colonization and Land Reform (INCRA) and the Bank of Brazil, as the most important source of credit to Brazilian peasants. Local Brazilian store owners and compradores are no longer capable of providing the Tenetehara with credit, as before, because they themselves are now debtors to these credit agencies and cannot spare the meager liquid capital that they have because of the long term arrangement of accountability that is inherent in the patron-client credit system. Thus relations between Brazilians and Tenetehara are becoming more "business-like," as economic transactions take the form of transfer of commodities for cash and vice versa, rather than commodities for commodities. Moreover, all transactions are being carried out at one time, not stretched over a indeterminate period of time. Consequently, there is no economic basis for Brazilians and Tenetehara to interact in a superordinate-subordinate form as in the patron-client relationship.^ Thus, as far as the Brazilians are concerned, the Tenetehara are becoming more suspicious, less trustworthy, and even haughty in their socioeconomic relations with them. And in the eyes of the Tenetehara, the Brazilians are no longer patrons, or potential patrons, but only covetous people who want the Indians lands, and their labor and labor products for cheap prices without the former benefits of smal 1 economic consessions. This is not to say that a capitalist type of economic relations brings about the equality of unequal producers of capital and unequal sharers of the body politic. The inequality that comes from capitalist relations is, however, of a different kind, and they have not quite taken form in the area.

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24 And as the Brazilians do not provide them with credit, they are resented even more for their supposed greed and lack of patronage. The behavior of Alberto, the third of my early acquaintances among the Tenetehara, is a positive example of the new form of social relations that are arising from the dissolution of patron-cl ientship and the , land problem. Resentment, suspicion, and impersonal transactions are translated into a relationship with Brazilians which involves the demand for more equanimity of treatment. Alberto is, of course, an acknowledged leader, or capitao, of his village, and also a man capable of some influence in other villages nearby. He is also one of the nineteen monitores, or bilingual teachers, who are drawing a federal salary in the order of cr$l,200.00 per month (or U.S. $150.00 as of July, 1975). This brings with it the necessary cash for immediate purchases. Furthermore, his knowledge of Portuguese and of Brazilian society puts him in a position to challenge through Brazilian law the claims of Brazilian landowners and peasants to Tenetehara lands, as well as the patronizing claims of former patrons of having been "good" to the Tenetehara and therefore deserving of patron-like treatment. Alberto presses the same type of challenge against FUNAI, and he and a few people like him have been relatively successful in this new stance. Tenetehara like Alberto are few in number. Most of the nineteen monitores who could be in such a position are rather young married men (there is one young woman) who cannot command the kind of respect from Brazilians that Alberto gets. But of the six or seven other Tenetehara in this position at least four are also monitores, although not capitaes of their villages. The other two are leaders of large extended families who, from 1972 to 1974, were earning quite a lot of money from the production

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25 and sale of craft goods which were in great demand in the national market. In short, like Alberto, these Tenetehara make a living more through a salary or craft trade than through the production of an agricultural surplus. In fact, most of the nineteen monitores and five or six Tenetehara craft dealers did not even plant gardens in the years 1973 and 1974. Nevertheless, the fact that these "respected" Tenetehara do not utilize the resources of the land to the same extent as their fellow tribesmen does not place them in a position to compromise the demands of Tenetehara land claims. In fact, partly because their economic position (salaried federal employees and craft dealers) is a result of thei being Indians, partly because they know what it means to be a landless Brazilian peasant, and finally because of pressure from their fellow Tenetehara, these people became the spokesmen for Tenetehara land claims. And, in a larger sense, they are also leaders for Tenetehara claim to remain a viable society, a positive alternative to becoming landless peasants or rural proletarians. Consequently, while their fellow Tenetehara upset the Brazilians and FUNAI through their individual or concerted actions of aggressive behavior, these respected Tenetehara present themselves as leaders capable of redirecting these actions towards more peaceful resolutions. It should be pointed out that the commissioner as well as two or three local landowners had tried without success to buy off several of these Indian spokesmen by offering them money to persuade their fellow tribesmen to give up portions of their lands. On the other hand, in the area of the Anjico Torto Indian Post, in a village which lacked this kind of leadership, a large cattle company peacefully succeeded in convincing this village to let a road be cut

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26 right through the middle of it, thus alienating some of the village's land which previously belonged to the reservation area of Arariboia, of which this Indian Post is a part. Indians and FUNAI The role of FUNAI as mediator between Tenetehara and Brazilians will be analyzed historically in. the next chapter. However, it may be germane in this introductory chapter to describe how FUNAI functions in terms of its internal structure. To begin with, when I speak of FUNAI in general terms I mean the general policy and actions of the Brazilian government toward the Tenetehara whether it is determined directly by the headquarters of FUNAI in Brasilia, or the Regional Offices, or the agents in the Indian Posts. FUNAI is the agency of Brazilian Indian policy. It is supposed to formulate this policy and implement it on the regional and local levels. FUNAI was created, after the dissolution of the SPI, or Servigo de Protegao aos Indies (Indian Protection Service) by Law Number 5.371 of December 5, 1967 which set out the guidelines for the formation of this agency as distinct from the previous structure of the SPI. In 1972 the Regulamento Interne , or by-laws, and the general terms of Indian policy had been formulated and approved by the Ministry of the Interior. FUNAI is under the jurisdiction of the Ministery of the Interior, the secretariat level of the executive branch of the Brazilian government which is in charge of regulating the sale of national lands and creating programs of colonization and/or exploitation of these lands. Since these national lands are essentially the lands where the Indians live, FUNAI is in a rather paradoxical position as far as its claim to protect

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27 the right of the Indians to full possession and usufruct of their lands is concerned. In numerous cases FUNAI has actually served the Brazilian government and the interests of private individuals and companies rather than the interest of the Indians by persuading the latter to disclaim possession of their territory or by simply removing Indian groups to other areas of less value or outside the orbit of economic and political interests. In every area where Indians live and which is considered national land, FUNAI functions in this paradoxical position. As a bureaucracy FUNAI consti tutes a structure of hierarchical levels of. decision making, management, and policy carriers. This structure can be described in brief terms. The highest level of decision making is constituted by the president of FUNAI, the Council of Curators (five members) and the Council of Indigenous Affairs (seven members), all of whom are appointed by the President of the Republic as recommended by the Minister of the Interior. The former council is in charge, among other things, of "assessing the acts of acquisition and alienation of the fixed assets of the Foundation [FUNAI]" (cf. FUNAI's " Legislagao " 1975:38, art 10, para. 11, section 1. The description of FUNAI presented here is taken from this publication.). The latter council is in charge of creating Indian policy. " The second level is formed by the General Administration (SA), the Organs of Assessment (OA), which are in charge of juridical and security matters, and the Planning and Coordinating Junta (JPC)--an of which are presided over by the President of FUNAI. The JPC is formed by the directors of the following management departments: (1) the General Department of Operations (DG) under which are the regional executive units, i.e., the Regional Offices ( del egacias ) , the Sub-Regional Offices

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28 ( ajudandas ) , and the Indian Parks (parques indtgenas ) ; (2) the General Department of Indian Patrimony (DGPI) which is in charge of surveying ' and demarcating Indian lands; (3) the General Department of Administration (DGA) which is in charge of allocating moneys and creating new positions; and (4) the General Department of Community Planning (DGPC) which is in charge of promoting anthropological research and developmental programs in Indian communities. Of. these departments the DGO and DGA are the most powerful because the first appoints the personnel at the regional level, and the second because it controls the disposal of monies and positions. At the regional level are the Regional Offices of which there are nine, three Sub-Regional Offices which are subordinated to the Regional Offices, and four Indian Parks. The latter are areas where the Indian population has only recently been contacted and where there is need of closer attention from FUNAI both in terms of protective measures in contact situations with the local segments of the national society and in terms of medical assistance and immunological programs in the case of epidemics and infectuous diseases. Under the Regional Offices are the Indian Posts, which are the lowest level at which policy is carried out. The Indian Posts are administered by a chefe, or agent, who had some theoretical training in anthropology and administration in a three month course given in Brazil ia, sponsored by FUNAI. A Post should also have a enfermeiro , or practical nurse, who is in charge of the Indians' health conditions. He or she is trained to implement sanitary conditions in Indian villages, to apply topical treatment, and to diagnose illnesses and prescribe medication for their cure. Each Post is equipped with a pharmacy containing medicines

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29 of the sort that the enfermeiro is likely to use, such as I.V. sorum, medicine against intestinal parasites, cough syrups, and, the most common cure-all, antibiotics. Finally, a Post also has a trabalhador bragal, or manual worker, who is given the task of tending the patrimony of the Post whether it is cattle, orchards, or vegetable gardens. The salaries of FUNAI functionaries are well above the national average of salaries for equivalent positions. A commissioner earns at least US $1,250.00 (cr$10,000. 00 as of July, 1975) per month, an agent about US $550.00, an enfermeiro about US $150.00, and a manual worker about US $90.00. Other employees in the Regional Offices earn salaries ranging from US $150.00 to about US $900.00. It should be pointed out that the lowest salary of those quoted here, all of which are monthly salaries, represents the equivalent of twice the monthly minimum wage as currently paid in the State of Maranhao. These relatively high salaries are presented here to dispel any ideas that the incompetency of FUNAI in the regional level is a result of corruption, due to low salaries. What is important to note in the structure of FUNAI bureaucracy is that the Regional Offices, which are in charge of actually carrying out the act of demarcating Indian lands, are under the Department of General Operations/Department of Indian Patrimony (DGO). Thus when the Sixth Regional Office in Sao Lufs attempts to survey and demarcate Tenetehara lands it must apply to the DGO in Brasilia to get the budget and to the DGPI to get permission to undertake the project. The DGPI sets the guidelines of a demarcation project and passes the project to the DGO which then forwards it back to the Sao Luis Office. The concatenation of these bureaucratic operations is very difficult to bring about, and in the

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30 final analysis it is the DGO which tries to organize everything by itself. Frequently the DGO sends a representative to an area with a problem to determine ways in which to settle the dispute when the Sao Luis Office has already contacted everyone concerned in the dispute and has been acting upon it in an entirely different manner. That only brings about confusion in the minds of the Tenetehara, the agents of Posts and the Brazilians involved in the dispute, including the Federal Police. Suffice it to say that in 1959 the reservation area of Bacurizinho was demarcated by the SPI, but, with a subsequent challenge of this demarcation by a local landowner in 1970, FUNAI had not been capable of finalizing the legalization of this area as national patrimony as of the end of 1975. The Tenetehara of this area, whose situation was not nearly as bad as that of the areas of Anjico Torto and Pindare, were rather anxious about their future and very critical of FUNAI. Indians and the New Economic Developments What is so crucial in the land question for the future of the Tenetehara is that forest lands in Maranhao have recently become a high priced commodity. Medium and large size capitalist enterprises have been coming to Maranhao to buy tracts of land that range from 20,000 to 500,000 acres, or even larger. When these enterprises began to arrive in 1971 they could buy an acre of land for as little as US $3.00. By 1975. the market price of land had shot up to US $20.00 to $30.00 per acre. By that year there were few large local landowners who had not already sold most of their lands. In the process they had displaced hundreds of peasant families who had been living as squatters or sharecroppers working for a share of the landowners' cattle and agricultural production.

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31 And now these landowners were coercing the small independent peasants to sell their lands for a low price so that they could resell it with a profit to the incoming capitalists. The result of this process of the rise of capitalism in rural Maranhao was doubly detrimental to the Tenetehara. First because there are now thousands of peasants invading or ready to invade Tenetehara lands, and second because the patron-client credit system upon which the Tenetehara had relied for over one hundred years is rapidly crumbling. From a perspective of the economic development of rural Maranhao, it seems clear that the more efficient techniques of cattle raising and rice cultivation characteristic of these new capitalist enterprises will soon displace the local mode of production based on peasant techniques of cultivation and cattle raising, on patron-client relationships, and on. a small margin of profit.^ Both the new capitalists as well as the displaced landless peasants believe that the Indians are a barrier to economic development. They believe that the Indians are inefficient in the utilization of their supposed vast lands and they realize that. the Indians do not even pay taxes like everyone else. These feelings caused a great deal of anxiety among the Tenetehara not only because they are not able to dispute these arguments, but also because they realize that these arguments represent a potential threat to them, as an ideology of land seizure. In short, the situation of the Tenetehara in 1975 was troublesome and one of potential conflict. The land question was a problem which needed to be urgently solved. It symbolized to the Tenetehara their 3 Cf. Velho 1976 for an analysis of the mode of production of a similar area in the State of Parg. M'uuucuon or a

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32 very existence and future. They consequently blamed most of their problems and anxieties on it. The Tenetehara claimed that they were not producing enough food for themselves because they were insecure about their lands, when the problem was rather that they had neglected their agricultural production to work on craft production for sale. But it was because of land problems that they were being rallied together into a new, strong bond of cohesion, particularly between villages which traditionally had functioned as independent political units. And they were planning to revive their social rituals with a new, defiant pride in their Indian heritage. For example, the ceremonies for the girls' initiation rites performed in the villages of Bacurizinho, Ipu, Anjico Torto, and Cururu were much more elaborated and traditional than they had been when Wagley and Galvao (1949:81-87) visited the Tenetehara in the early 1940s. Twelve Tenetehara, led by the capitao of Anjico Torto had come from their village located as far away as 100 km in order to participate in one of these ceremonies performed in the village of Ipu. • . Thus, there were both personal (as in the case of Alberto's attitude to the Brazilians) and social symbols for what Barth (1969) called "the formation of ethnic boundaries." Given the objective conditions existing between Brazilians and Tenetehara, one can refer to this process as the raising of consciousness of ethnic identification. This process does not entail the preclusion of acceptance of Brazilian cultural traits. The Tenetehara continued to dress in Brazilian style, to buy guns, salt, kerosene, soap; they were eager to have radios, wrist watches, and other manufactured goods; they wanted to play soccer, to hold Brazilian style dances, and to learn how to read and write in both Portuguese and Tenetehara.

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33 They recognized that these traits and objects are Brazilian and therefore that they were dependent upon the Brazilian society for their acquisition. This constituted a slight paradox in the articulation of ., their ethnic consciousness. Such a paradox, however, which is found among all peoples who are in a conflict situation with a more powerful society, is a necessary one not only for the rise of ethnic consciousness but also because the resolution of this paradox fosters the internal development of the society in question. The Tenetehara, of course, do not articulate this paradox in this manner but simply brush it aside as a fact they can do nothing to alter. It is clear that the dependency relationship of the Tenetehara on the Brazilian society will be exacerbated to the degree that the economy of rural Maranhao becomes more and more capitalist oriented. Even if one assumes that the Tenetehara will be able to retain their lands, they will have to change their mode of production and consequently their society and culture in general in order to be able to produce in sufficiently competitive terms to acquire the goods they need. The Tenetehara have been in contact with the Brazilian society for over 350 years. They have faced many such challenges before and they have been able to modify their society to meet these challenges. But every new challenge seems to prove greater than the last, and this most recent one appears to be more destructive than the others. This dissertation will attempt to show how the Tenetehara have survived these many years of contact and managed to maintain their autonomy as a separate ethnic group.

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CHAPTER III THEORETICAL ORIENTATION The empirical problem to which this dissertation addresses itself is the ethnic survival of the Tenetehara. The term ethnic stands for ethnic group or a societal system that identifies itself and is identified by other such systems as a separate and unique entity. Traditionally, an ethnic group has been defined in terms of a self-maintaining population, a field of interaction and communication, and a set of behavioral patterns and cultural symbols. As will be seen below, these items may not all be present in a unique form within a certain population in order for it to be considered an ethnic group. The term survival is specifically used here because comparative studies on the history of the contact relationship between such societal systems as the Tenetehara and the Brazilian show that the more powerful system tends to incorporate or destroy the less powerful system. In sum, by ethnic survival is meant the continuing existence of a self-identifying societal system in a contact relationship with another such system. I have already quoted Wagley and Galvao's (1949:183) statement to the effect that by the present time (1975) the Tenetehara Indians were expected to have become Brazilian peasants, to no longer constitute an ethnic group separate from the mainstream of rural Brazilian society. Essentially this development has not taken place and it is the goal of this dissertation to demonstrate why it did not take place and to show what factors are responsible for the phenomenon of Tenetehara ethnic survival. 34

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35 The analysis of Tenetehara ethnic survival will begin with a theoretical discussion of the changes and continuities of the Tenetehara ethnic group between the period of Wagley and GalvSo's visit in 1941-45 and the time when the present anthropologist visited them in 1975. This will be done both for the Tenetehara ethnic group in general, including the Tenetehara not living in areas visited by the earlier anthropologists, and in particular for the Tenetehara living in the area of the Pindare and lower Zutiua Rivers with which the earlier anthropologists were most closely acquainted. Such a task can be achieved, at least to the extent that is necessary to present a comparative study of the survival of the Tenetehara living in different areas, because the present writer became acquainted with the contact situation of all five Tenetehara areas. It should be stated at once that the prediction made by Wagley and Galvao was not entirely off the mark, as far as the Tenetehara of the Pindare and Zutiua are concerned. Indeed, of the ten villages with a total population of about 800 people which they visited, only one can be said to be in existence at the present time, while two new villages have since been formed. The total population of the Tenetehara of that region does not presently exceed 350 people. This population decline of the order of sixty percent was lost partly because of epidemiological diseases, but also partly through acculturation. The process of Tenetehara acculturation, or rather, of the peasantization of the Tenetehara, was the theoretical basis from which Waley and Galvao ventured their prediction. Thus in order to critically discuss Wagley and Galvao's prediction it is necessary to critically discuss acculturation theory. The theory of acculturation was formulated in the 1930s by several American

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36 anthropologists, notably Ralph Linton, Melville Herskovitz, and Robert Redfield. It was an attempt to explain the process of Westernization which the aboriginal societies of the New World, Oceania, and Africa had been experiencing ever since their first contact with European colonization. As an extension this theory purported to explain the phenomenon of culture change through assimilation and internal restructuring that any culture will develop when in close contact with another. As stated in the classic formulation presented by Redfield, Linton, and Herskovitz (1936:149-150), Acculturation comprehends those phenomena which result when groups of individuals having different cultures come into continuous first-hand contact, with subsequent changes in the original cultural patterns of either or both groups. (NOTE: Under this definition, acculturation is to be distinguished from culture-change , of which it is but one aspect, and assimilation , which is at times a phase of acculturation. It is also to be differentiated from £L!lusion, which, while occurring in all instances of acculturation, is not only a phenomenon which frequently takes place without the occurrence of the type of contact between peoples specified in the definition above, but constitutes only one aspect of the process of acculturation. Basic to this concept of acculturation is the concept of culture, presumably viewed in a Tylorian sense as the totality of customs, behavior, and organization of a population as a self-identifying, self-maintaining unit. No provision is made to distinguish the concepts of society as the structural-functional organization of a population into groups, a_nd Jhe con^cept of culture as the ideological and normative level of organization of a population. Subsequently these two concepts have been more clearly delineated, and the changes that occur within a defined population group have been distinguished between social change (for changes pertaining to the social structure through internal reorganization) and cultural change (for those of the culture through the mechanisms of

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37 diffusion). Had this distinction been made by Wagley and Gal vao, it is possible that their prediction would have been couched differently. These anthropologists were much impressed by the degree of adoption of certain Brazilian traits, such as house types, production tools, clothes, knowledge of the Portuguese language; as well as the decline of aboriginal Tenetehara customs, such as the boys' and girls' initiation rites, the maize festival, the Honey festival. On this basis, coupled with the intensity of contact between Tenetehara and Brazilians, Wagley and Galvao projected a continuation of this trend into a situation in which the Tenetehara ethnic group would no longer be distinguishable from the rural Brazilian society. Their description of the social organization of the Tenetehara, though correctly perceived and implicitly contrasted with that of rural Brazilian society, was not analyzed in terms of its role in keeping the Tenetehara together as a separate ethnic group. Here the basic factors of descent and marriage were in full operation in the Tenetehara society. Descent being bilateral, the offspring of cross-cultural marriage could claim Tenetehara status whenever they so wished,. whether their residence was within or outside Tenetehara society.^ As long as other variables such as the resources of land remained available to them, the mechanisms of descent and social organization would be suffient to maintain the Tenetehara as a distinct ethnic group. Social change, in short, does not necessarily occur parallel to cultural change. That, of course, already had been implicitly stated in the theory of acculturation when it qualified the process of adoption of foreign cultural traits by a particular society as one of modification of the function of these traits to fit in with the structure of the

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38 culture. But once again culture and society were not operationalized in terms of different analytical levels of integration and cohesion. On the other hand, numerous empirical examples of societies in close contact with one another and therefore in the process of mutual . acculturation showed that the distinction between the social and the cultural as different categories of cohesion and of change was too hairsplitting and only obfuscated the analysis of the process of acculturation earth (1969:9ff), in criticizing the theory of acculturation, suggested that an ethnic group in close contact and intercourse with other such groups might borrow cultural and social traits from the others and still retain self-identification as a separate ethnic group, as long as a constellation of features of this group was retained. This constellation of features he called the "culture core." Earth suggested that the culture core might be constituted of any kinds of traits, whether social or cultural, and that the choice of these traits was up to the circumstances of interaction of the ethnic groups in mutual relationship with one another. Thus, in a certain area composed of two or more ecological niches which were exploited by different ethnic groups the culture core of each group would be composed of the features that were utilized for ' the adaptive exploitation of the particular ecological niches in question. The other features outside these culture cores could be shared by the other ethnic groups without thereby causing the undifferentiation of the groups. In earth's terminology, the culture core was the unit of selfascription for the particular group as well as the unit of ascription of the group by other particular groups. The problem with Earth's scheme is that the culture core was essentially an empirical unit. For the self-ascription of an ethnic group

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39 there was no one feature that was sinejua_r^, predictable on a scientific basis. So that if one were to study the dynamic interaction of two or more ethnic groups, and even if one knew the historical background of this interaction, one could not assume any feature of culture core of any and every group. One would just have to determine it in loco. Thus, earth's scheme is essentially descriptive and empiricist. His culture core lacks the promised theoretical use that would go beyond the theory of acculturation and the operational distinction between the social and the cultural . A particular shortcoming of Barth's empiricism is that there is no socio-cultural component that brings about the self-identification^and perpetuity of an ethnic group. Such a component has been identified by many anthropologists who have studied the problem of . minorities in plural societies (cf. Wagley and Harris 1958) as the rule of descent. Whether or not a particular ethnic group shares the culture of another ethnic group, it is indeed hard to imagine the continuation of this ethnic group without a rule of descent. Even an ethnic group that uses a cultural norm, such as a ritual of incorporation, to recruit and absorb members, it needs as well to incorporate the offspring of its own members. Otherwise the ethnic group would be no more than a special corporation within a larger self-maintaining unit. A rule of descent which ascribes membership is, therefore, the basic component of the formation and maintenance of an ethnic group. Other socio-cultural components are intended to reinforce membership in the group, such as rituals to mark the biological necessities of growth, reproduction and death. Finally, and on a higher level of integration, more specifically cultural forms exist, such as norms of behavior, ideology, worldview.

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40 religion, and so on. In short, if one were to follow and systematize Barth's scheme, the culture core of any ethnic group would be defined as constituting the basic feature of a rule of descent ascribing membership and a superstructure of ideological reinforcement. Or to put it in more common anthropological terms, the culture core is formed of certain elements of a social structure and a cultural structure in mutual relationship to one another. These structures constitute a skeleton of forms, the contents of which would be determined by other circumstances. In the case of an ethnic group, such as the Jews in the United States, the contents that fill these structures come from both an historical tradition already given and the actual mode of subsistence which they have created in the process of adapting to the socio-economic niches available to them in the United States. The idea of a culture core as an operational category to define the minimal components of an ethnic group in contact with other ethnic groups seems to defeat its purposes in both Barth's definition and in its re-elaboration presented here. In the first instance, the culture core is merely, an empirical category which lacks predictive and comparative value. In the second instance, it assumes the existence of descent rules upon which other categories are built, all of which derive ultimate existence and functionality from another basic category, the mode of subsistence. This re-elaboration, therefore, assumes the structural definition of an ethnic group, of the conjunction of the concepts of economic organizations, society and culture. To transcend the theory of acculturation and Barth's culture core, the theoretical orientation of this dissertation will be based upon the

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41 application of the theory of historicalmaterialism. This theory, as found in Marx's writings, specifically for the purposes of this study in Ih^GenianJ^^ (1970) and Pre^Capitai^^ (1964), takes the view that a societal system has two basic functions: to reproduce itself and to produce its means of existence. In the category of self-reproduction or the superstructure are found the modern anthropological concepts of society and culture; and in production is found the Marxian concept of mode of production. These two societal categories, the superstructure and the mode of production are in a dialectical relationship to one another. A relationship between two entities, A and B, is called dialectical when A and B are mutually dependable and mutually deterministic of one another. Thus, A ^ B U A(B)-> B(A) The importance of the useof the term dialectical relationship, as opposed to functional or reciprocal relationship, is that it implies both synchronic and diachronic dimensions. In the case of a societal system, the mode of production and the superstructure are at any one point functionally congruent and potentially incongruent with one another. When, for external or internal reasons one of these categories suffers a modification in its structure it will cause a deterministic influence upon the other. It is well known that Marx placed primary stress upon the role of the mode of production as the determinant of the suprestructure and therefore of the societal system in general. What is not so well discerned is that Marx's concept of the mode of production involves much more than technological forces or the economy, in the bourgeois sense of the word

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42 (cf. Godelier 1977). The recent debate between Marxist and non-Marxist anthropologists (cf. Berger 1976 with commentators; Godelier 1977; Legros 1977; Terray 1972) on the concept and relevance of the mode of production for anthropological studies is taken into account for the definition of the mode of production used here. The mode of production is a category constituted by all the factors that are structurally linked to each other which are concerned with the material production and maintenance of the societal system. The mode of production is conceptualized on two levels: 1 ) the production forces: natural resources, technical norms, production units (in other words, land, capital and labor), and the level of productivity required to maintain the socio-cul tural system at a given time; and 2) the relations . of production: division of labor, forms of distribution and consumption, and the relationship between production units as it refers in particular to the distribution of goods and services. Production forces and production relations are but two concepts that can be operational ized as separate. However, together they form a single dialectical structure. These factors will be further defined and operationalized in the chapters on the Tenetehara economy. If the factors in this structure suffer a modification, the other factors will be modified accordingly. This causal modification might not take place immediately; in this case there will be a time lapse in which the structure does not work as a congruent entity. This incongruence is referred to as the contradiction between the factors of the structure. The superstructure is concerned with the biological reproduction and the social maintenance of a societal system. It can be analyzed in terms of various categories, such as society and culture, or social

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43 organization, political and legal organizations, ideological organization, and so on. The analysis of the superstructure in these forms depends on the preference of the analyst and of course on the traditional division of intellectual labor and academic discipline. The various subfields of anthropology, such as social political , and cognitive are concerned with the study of the superstructure. In this dissertation I will focus on the Tenetehara mode of production and the role it plays in bringing about the ethnic survival of the Tenetehara. A holistic study of the ethnic survival of the Tenetehara can only be complete with an analysis of the superstructure. Specifically such a study should be concerned with kinship organization in its broadest sense and with the ideological components that are most conspicuous in furthering the cohesion of the Tenetehara social system. These components will be dealt with here only to complete the analysis of the Tenetehara mode Of production. They can be found in descriptive form in the work of Wagley and Galvao (1949). Given this brief conceptualization of a societal system as a structure formed by the dialetics of the mode of production and the superstructure, I now return to a discussion on the theoretical basis of the ethnic survival of the Tenetehara. This study begins with the fact that the Tenetehara have survived ethnically through the 350 years of contact with the Brazilian society. It assumes the presence of the minimal components of an ethnic group, i.e., the rules of descent, mechanisms of incorporation and cohesion, and a material base of production. The question is how have the Tenetehara survived when so many other similar ethnic groups have become extinct? This will be answered in empirical terms throughout this dissertation. Here I am concerned '

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44 with formulating a theory for the ethnic survival of the Tenetehara ' which can be extended to explain both the survival and the extinction of other Indian societies in Brazil. In the above critical discussion of the acculturation theory, it was seen that the contact relationship between a Western society and a non-Western society is invariably one of superordination-subordination . The superordinate society is seen as effecting the greatest amount of modification on the subordinate society, the effect tending to be of ultimate incorporation of the latter by the former. The subordinate society is seen as a passive entity, absorbing cultural traits and adapting itself to the powerful demands of the superordinate society. On the face of it, the historical records indicate that this process of adaptation indeed happened. On the other hand, the records also show that many other such subordinate societies became extinct. Presumably this extinction could be explained either because the societies did not adapt and therefore were destroyed, or because they adapted only too well to the point of losing their ethnic identification. Such a theory of social adaptation which stands by itself and is also implied in the theory of acculturation explains survival or extinction as a post' factum observation and by the terms of its very meaning. Thus in one case, one can say that a society survived because it adapted; in another, a society did not survive because it did not adapt; and in still another, a society did not survive because it adapted. Logically, there is still another possibility which is that a society might survive because it did not adapt. The logical error of adaptation theory is that it assumes a functional relationship between two entities, for example, culture and environment.

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45 two cultures in mutual relationship to one another, or a culture trait within a larger culture system. Adaptation theory works for the explanation Of interaction systems which are static or which change only due to extraneous factors. In regard to the important question of the relation between a culture and its environment, I use the term adapta' tion to represent this relation, but I should qualify .y use of this term from its current use in the literature of anthropological ecology (cf. Rappaport 1968:3-5; Harris 1974). Adaptation as used here means that a culture at a particular time is utilizing the natural resources, or the environment, available for its mode of production. The environment places a constraint on the productivity of the mode of production of a culture, but it does not determine a particular kind of mode of production in the absolute sense. The mode of production is partly determined by the environment itself and partly by other socio-historical circumstances, such as the evoTutionary level of the culture and of the other cultures in contact with it, and the nature of this contact (cf, Marx 1964:82). The factors of a mode of production, including the forms of utilization of a particular environment, as stated previously, together with the forms of social organization of a culture and its ideological superstructure and the kinds of interaction of this culture with neighboring cultures form a system of interaction, a dynamic entity of parts in dialectical relationship with one another, and therefore carrying in themselves the instability which results in change. This system should not be analyzed as an ecos:^. i.e., a biological system of interaction, because the human element is different from the other biological elements. This difference lies in the fact that man is a self-conscious animal, to put it in philosophical terms.

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46 and that he relates to the environment in a different way. than do animals and plants. Man procures from the environment not only his basic necessities, as an animal, but also the necessities that create culture. And as man creates culture and in it a division of labor (initially only along sex or age lines), a higher productivity, an exchange system, the fragmentation of the society in families, lineages, political groups, etc., he creates a system of inherent contradictions. A major contradiction that exists in culture and that propels change is that between the mode of production and the social organization. When one of these factors change, either for "accidental" reasons or because of rearrangements of its components in order to resolve an internal contradiction, then it causes a change in the other factor and then a new rearrangement of these two factors as a system. An "accidental" type of reason can be of the order of an increase in population of the culture, which will then increase the need for a change in the mode of production, or can be an historical event, such as a new contact with, a different culture, as in the case of the arrival of the Europeans. In short, a culture is never completely adapted to its environment, whether physical or social environment, because it carries the contradictions in the arrangement of the factors that make it a system. One can, however, speak of adaptation to an environment at a given period of time, provided that it be understood that this adaptation is not of the same order as biological adaptation. In regard to the use of adaptation theory to study an historical system of interaction between a superordinate and a subordinate society, one finds similar objections as in the study of the relationship between culture and environment. Such an historical study of adaptation would •

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47 lead to the following methodological positions: first, that the relationship of superordination/subordination is conceptualized only in regard to the system of interaction as a whole, not to the particular characteristics of each society. If the superordinate society appropriates half the resources from the subordinate society, thereby causing the loss of half its population, this process should be seen only in terms of the resiliency of this hal f, population to continue in this relationship, not in terms of the human effects of this loss for the subordinate society. This is essentially a mechanistic and anti-humanistic approach, and therefore rejected by this author. Second, the theory of adaptation needs to provide ^_^nor± the catalystic elements of change within the contact relationship between two societies. In the biological theory of evolution, the catalyst element of change is mutation, which is essentially a category determined a posteriori . In studies of cultural adaptation, change catalysts are either assumed, in a deus-exmachina manner, or brought in from outside the system of interaction. In short, adaptation theory is merely an explanatory device that because of its functionalism lacks the theoretical basis to explain internal change. The type of relationship conceptualized in this study for the contact interaction between Tenetehara and Brazilians is a dialectical one. The Tenetehara ethnic group, as the subordinate societal system, is seen as being in the constant process of change in order to accomodate itself to the Brazilian society and the changes that take place within it. However, this process of change, or progressive restructuring of their society and culture in general, proceeds from the basis of the Tenetehara culture at any given point. The character of this culture imposes certain

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48 constraints on the way it will be able to change as well as on thecharacter of the contact with the Brazilian society itself. Thus the Tenetehara are not merely a passive entity receiving the impact of the dominant Brazilian society; they too react to this impact in both . ' aggressive and non-aggressive ways because they constitute a system with mechanisms to perpetuate the interests and purposes of the membership. Moreover, even when no overt contradictions appear to exist between Tenetehara and Brazilians, the very relationship of superordination/ ' subordination stands in itself as a contradiction. This contradiction will be operationalized throughout this dissertation according to the types of relationship (slavery, serfdom, patron-cl ientship) that have existed throughout the history of contact. Previous studies of Indian-Brazilian interethnic relations, such as Murphy's (1960), Oliveira's (1972), and Ribeiro's (1970), argue convincingly that these relations have historically been economic relations. In terms of this study, these relations pertain to the conjunction of two different modes of production. The Brazilian mode of production in rural Maranha~o has been until very recently one that could be called a peasant mode of production. It is based on agricultural , extractive, and cattle production intended both for self-consumption and for an external market. The external market is the most important catalyst of change, causing both the intensification and decline of production of a particular commodity and the shift towards production of other commodities. This is the well recognized phenomenon of "boom and bust" of the Brazilian economic history. In a comparative study of the ethnic survival of Brazilian Indians, Ribeiro (1970) analyzed the rate of survival of these ethnic groups in

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49 terms of the contact relationship between the ethnic groups and the economies of various regions of Brazil. He called these economies and their social forms "expansion frontiers" ( frentes de expan.ao K and characterized them according to the type of commodity produced. He recognized three main expansion frontiers: the agricultural, the pastoral, and the extractive. Each of these frontiers imposes a certain type of relationship on the ethnic group it encounters. Each type of relationship causes a lesser or higher degree of ethnic extinction of the ethnic groups involved. According to Ribeiro's data, the agricultural frontier is the most detrimental to the ethnic groups involved, causing the extinction of 60 percent of these groups; the extractive frontier follows with 45.7 percent of ethnic group extinction; and the pastoral economy with 30.2 percent. The agricultural economy is said to be more detrimental because of the demand for lands and labor of the ethnic groups. The extractive frontier demands only labor and access to certain commodity resources, and the pastoral frontier demands only land. Ribeiro's data clearly prove his theory, but the functional correlation of rate of extinction/expansion frontier seems too general to be taken at face value. What exactly should be the difference between a frontier that demands labor and land (the agricultural) and one that demands only land (the pastoral)? In both instances it is the land factor which actually demands the displacement of the ethnic groups involved. In the agricultural frontiers, labor is required and thus, there may be an implicit tendency in this type of frontier to destroy the population basis of an ethnic group by their labor recruitment in compulsory, indentured, or other forms. On the other hand, the need for land might be proportionately low, so that the ethnic groups might survive by providing only their labor products, not their labor per se . The

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50 pastoral economy needs no extra labor, but only extensive tracts of land, and so the ethnic group will either be destroyed or relegated to certain undesirable areas. In both cases, therefore, there is a logical possibility for either extinction or survival. Hence, Ribeiro's thesis must be reinterpreted in the light not of the type of commodity produced in an expansion frontier, but in the kind of mode of production of this frontier. This should involve the intensity of production, through the mechanisms of the market system, the types of production units (whether by independent peasants, landless peasants, large landowners, etc.), and the degree of intensity of the need for both land and labor. In addition, consideration should also be given to the type of mode of production and the superstructure of the ethnic group involved. Hunting and gathering ethnic groups, for example, seem to have a far greater resiliency to survival in agricultural frontiers that demand relatively small amounts of land, than the more permanent, agricultural groups. Indeed, in the case of the Guaja Indians of Western Maranhao and the Siriono of Eastern Bolivia, it is quite possible that they became hunters and gatherers as a way to survive. Another example of the importance of considering the ethnic groups them' selves is provided by the contrast in survival between the Tenetehara and some of the Eastern Timbira groups (cf. Nimuendaju 1946). At one point in the nineteenth century, both these ethnic groups faced a similar type of expansion frontier characterized by mixed farming and cattle raising. The Tenetehara, with their flexible, fissioning type of village formation, survived and even expanded, whereas many of the Eastern Timbira groups, with their rigid social structure and culture which demands a stable population for its continuation, became extinct

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51 as separate units and were incorporated into the Brazilian peasantry. In sum, a theory of ethnic survival must take into consideration the character of the societal systems in interaction and the kind of relationship that results from this interaction. This theory should also state the basic, minimal components for the continuation of an ethnic group, that is, the continuation of rules of descent, mechanisms of membership incorporation, and of ideological cohesion as well as the material basis of the ethnic group. Taking for granted that the minimal components of the Tenetehara ethnic group are at play, this dissertation will focus on the role of the mode of production of the Tenetehara through their history of contact.. My thesis is that given the circumstances of this contact, this mode of production is the main factor in keeping the Tenetehara from becoming assimilated into the rural Brazilian mainstream. And in the regions where the Tenetehara have become assimilated, the process of assimilation is viewed in terms of the disintegration of the Tenetehara mode of production. The following chapters of this dissertation are conceptualized into two parts. The first part (chapters IV, V and VI) is concered with an analytical description of the historical contact of the Tenetehara and Brazilians, that is of Tenetehara ethnohistory . The analysis of Tenetehara ethnohistory will focus on the contact relationship between the Tenetehara and the various historical phases of the formation of the Brazilian society. This contact relationship is mediated through economic relations which I have called "trade economies." Some data on the contact relationship between the forming Brazilian society and other Indian groups in Maranhao will be presented in order to compare their rate of survival with the Tenetehara.

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52 The second part (Chapters VII, VIII and IX) will deal specifically with the Tenetehara mode of production throughthis historical contact. It will focus both on the economic relations of the internal economy of the Tenetehara and the relations pertaining to the various trade economies which were the mediators of the Tenetehara and the Brazilians. . the analysis irijoto presented here proves adequate in terms of an explanation of why the Tenetehara continue to retain their ethnic identification, there will loom a most important practical question as to the future of the Tenetehara ethnic group. Although wary of predictions on the Tenetehara, I will nevertheless try to argue for certain predictable changes, based on the structural elements of the Tenetehara mode of production, which may bring about the continuation of the Tenetehara ethnic group. This may prove to be only a theoretical exercise but it may have some practical significance for an applied anthropology of the Tenetehara.

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CHAPTER IV . FORMATION OF INTER-ETHNIC RELATIONS The earliest information we have on the Tenetehara Indians is derived from the history of the state of Maranhao and the adjacent state of Para. In many instances the information concerning the Tenetehara is rather scanty and indirect, and I have brought analytical perspective to it by making careful inferences from it, helped by comparisons with more fully documented cases which were analogous to the Tenetehara situation. There have been no archaeological or linguistic studies to shed light on the Tenetehara of pre-Columbian times. One or two suggestions have been made concerning the "original" habitat of the Tenetehara, such as that of Nimuendaju (1937:48) who believed that they came from the state of Para or beyond to the west, but these suggestions cannot be supported by our present knowledge of the pre-historical migratory movements of Brazilian Indians. Tenetehara ethnohistory , therefore, is essentially the history of the changes and developments in their society and culture, as the Tenetehara were brought into the sphere of influence of the forces of colonization of the state of Maranhao. To describe changes and developments is to describe a situation at a certain point in time, and what it became at a later point, and what brought about this new state of being. Hence, a study of social change is a dialectical study. The dialectical method used here is devoid of any elaboration on the philosophical aspects of such concepts as contradictions, opposites, structural 53

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54 disequilibrium, and other such terms. These concepts will be developed in empirical terms, in the context of a set of problems which are viewed as forming a system. I use the dialectical method to describe an historical situation which ipso facto is not static, and which therefore cannot be analyzed, either in the short or in the long run, by a method that is concerned exclusively with equilibrium or adaptations. My use of the dialectical method posits the Tenetehara as a sociocultural system in confrontation with the forces of colonization of Maranhio, as another such system. Both these sytems, as social systems, contain the inherent potential for change independent of the influences which they exert upon one another, but it is basically the changes that are brought forth by the contact with one another that is of concern here. The influence which the Tenetehara had on the colonial system is rather minimal, mainly in the area of utilization of the environment, and it will not concern us here. The influence of the developing colonial society on the Tenetehara, however, is the main factor in Tenetehara ethnohistory, and therefore an analysis of colonial society and later of the emerging Brazilian society as it affected the Tenetehara society, will be the main concern of this chapter. The two key analytical concepts in this chapter are, on the one hand, the Tenetehara society brought into the sphere of influence of the colonial society in the various stages of its history, and on the other, the resultant Tenetehara society at the end of these historical stages. In dialectical terms we have the historical flux of thesis (the Tenetehara society at a certain historical point), the antithesis (the confronting colonial society at a similar historical .point), and the synthesis (the resultant Tenetehara society). Because this is not intended to be

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55 a history of Maranhao, the analysis of this colonial society will be focused on the points which bear on the Tenetehara in more direct ways, particularly its economic development, forms of labor recruitment, and the practical consequences of its Indian policy. Furthermore, as ethnohistory, the analysis of Tenetehara socio-cul tural changes will be described here only in general terms. The details of these changes will be presented in the analysis of Tenetehara economy in Chapters VII, VIII and IX. It should be stated here that I began the analysis of Tenetehara ethnohistory after I had acquired a certain understanding of the present day Tenetehara society through my own field work among them and the reading of the ethnographic literature on them (Abreu 1931, Nimuendaju 1951, Snethlage 1931, Wagley and Galvao 1949, 1963, Wagley 1973). From the present day synthesis of Tenetehara society I tried to trace the previous thesis by looking at the antithesis and then searching for confirmation of this thesis in the history of Maranhao. In some cases this confirmation could not be procured in which case the solution presented is of the order of speculation or structural inference. But of course this method of tracing back socio-cuTtural changes was complemented by tracing these changes chronologically from a given point of reference. And it is in a chronological sequence that this chapter will unfold. Before I proceed to analyze Tenetehara ethnohistory, a word should be said about what the minimum requirements for the survival of Brazilian Indian societies are. The impact of the arrival of Europeans in the New World has been analyzed by many anthropologists before, and all of them have recognized the effect of European diseases as having the most

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56 detrimental effect on the peoples of the Americas (cf. Ribeiro 1970;and Wagley and Harris 1958:15-19). The rate of population loss in the early years of contact, before some kind of natural immunization is acquired, determines to a large extent the future survival of Indian groups. Only those groups that retain a minimal self-reproducing biological unit through the many periodic epidemic outbreaks can continue to be a separate ethnic unit. This is the most basic and minimal requirement that determines ethnic group survival, and obviously the Tenetehara are included here as having successfully born out the impact of foreign diseases. Two other factors to be overcome to ensure ethnic group survival are miscegenation as an accul turati ve process and the loss of effective control of land as the Indian's basic economic resource. The processes of Indian miscegenation and appropriation of Indian lands are well known facts in the history of Brazil, and particularly in the history of Maranhao, where the population that came to form its society was largely recruited from the Indian societies living in this region. The appropriation of social capital and fixed capital from the Indians was made necessary by the very conditions of the colonization of Maranhao, which consisted of a small population of Portuguese colonists practicing a mode of production which required an expanding amount of land and a permanent large amount of labor. Land was expropriated from the Indians by conquest followed by the effective control of it through the establishment of sugar and tobacco plantations, population settlement, and colonial administration. Labor was expropriated from the tribal societies by the conquest of the societies or by war parties sent to bring back war captives. In both cases the defeated Indians were reduced

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57 to conditions of slavery and/or serfdom. The recruitment of labor involved the recruitment of a population that, having lost its cultural means of reproduction, slowly become incorporated as a member of the incipient colonial society, When these factors combined in an overwhelming way, of course, the Indian society became extinct. The Tenetehara society managed to avoid this whole process, and continued to reproduce itself within the confines of group membership and the effective control of its land. There were particular reasons for this turn of events, both having to do with the particular characteristics of the Tenetehara as a society, and with the socio-economic conditions of the colonization of Maranhao. Throughout this chapter the Tenetehara situation of contact will be contrasted with the situation of other Indian groups in Maranhao, to illustrate in chronological steps the reasons for the survival or extinction of particular groups. Colonization and development are understood here as socio-economic demographic processes, the differences between the two being merely historical. As far as Maranhao is concerned, the former comprehends the period dating from the early date of 1535, but more exactly from 1612 to around the time of the independence of Brazil from Portugal in 1822. The latter follows this last date to the present times and is more or less linked to the process of modernization. But from the perspective of Tenetehara ethnohi story , this time span of 440 years (1535-1975) may be divided into four consecutive periods which are characterized by particular forms of Tenetehara-Brazi 1 ian (or Portuguese) inter-ethnic relations. These phases are: (1) Formation of inter-ethnic relations (1613-1755) which is subdivided in (a) phase of slavery: 1616-1653; and

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58 • (b) phase of serfdom: 1653-1755. (2) Freedom and transition: 17551840. (3) Patron-client relationship and the Provincial Indian Policy: 1840-1910. (4) The twentieth century and the role of the SPI/FUNAI: 1910-1975. The first period is the subject of the present chapter. The later periods will be discussed in later chapters. The Phase of Slavery (1613-1653) The colonization of Maranhao was first attempted in 1535 by a joint expedition organized by Joao de Barros, Ayres da Cunha, and Arvares de Andrade (Kiemen 1954:8). These men had been given the right to set up trading posts and colonial administration in two large tracts of land that stretched from the Rio Branco Cape westward to the mouth of the Amazon River. These two grants of land, or capitanias (captaincies) were part of the first Portuguese program to colonize the area of South America which had been partioned to Portugal by the Tordesillas Treaty of 1494. This joint expedition was shipwrecked off the coast of Maranhao, near the island which later became known as Sao Lu1s. This island was at that time inhabited by the "sentio tapuia ," or non-Tupi speaking Indians, who were reportedly unfriendly to the colonization intentions of the survivors. Apparently many Portuguese stayed in the area and became incorporated as Indians (Salvador 1954:134). By the early seventeenth century these Indians had moved inland and became known as "Barbados" ("the bearded ones"). Several political and economic difficulties barred the Portuguese from making further attempts to colonize Maranhao until the second decade of the seventeenth century, when control of that area was threatened by the French.

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59 In 1612, a French expedition founded a colony on the northwest corner of the island of Sao luU, thus initiating the history and development of Maranhao. By then the island was inhabited by the famous Tupinamba Indians who had come from the coast of Pernambuco sometime in the late sixteenth century and who had dislodged the island's previous inhabitants (Abbeville 1945:65; Metraux 1963:98, 1927). French sailors had been prospecting in the trade of Brazil wood and tropical exotica with the Tupinamba of the island and of the Serra do Ibiapaba (in present day Ceara State) for over forty years (Abbeville 1945:63). The French expedition was therefore well received by the Tupinamba. There were several French turgimons , or speakers of the Tupi language, who were living among the Indians. These Europeans knew their customs well, and had been promising them the arrival of powerful caraiba, or prophets, who would teach them new ways to lead a peaceful life. The ' Tupinamba", after all, had come all the way from Pernambuco not only in search of respite from Portuguese encroachment and enslavement, but also in search of a physical-spiritual salvation in the "Land Without Evil" (cf. Metraux 1950). They were also being enticed by the marvels of iron implements and other European trinkets (Abbeville, 1945:59-60, 74ff). Claude d 'Abbeville (1945), who was one of the four Capuchin friars in the French expedition, describes in interesting details the way the French set about to organize Tupinamba labor for the extraction of -Brazil wood and the material provisioning of the colony. He also writes of how the Tupinamba' felt about the Portuguese and about the new religion and mores that they were expected to follow as new vassals of the King of France (Abbeville 1945:234). For our purposes, however, it is Abbeville's . description and account of the number of Tupinamba' villages on the island

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60 and elsewhere 1n Maranhao that is of special interest. In 1612 the island of Sao Luis, which has an area of 22,000 square kilometers, contained some 27 Tupinamba villages which ranged in size from 200-300 to 500-600 people for a total of ten to twelve thousand people. Each village had at least one or two leaders and the larger ones could have four or five. The leader of the largest village, one Japiacu, was in some undetermined fashion recognized as the head leader ( morubixaua ) for this whole area. The French however, dealt with single family leaders irrespective of sanction or consent from Japiagu, which may indicate that area leadership or chiefdom level leadership was nominal or at best inchoate (Abbeville 1945:58, 92, 234; cf. also Metraux 1963, 1950, Fernandes 1963, 1970). In Tapuitapera, to the west of the Bay of Sao Marcos which divides the island from the mainland, there were fifteen to twenty Tupinamba villages with a total population larger than that of the island (Abbeville 1945:148). Further westward, in the Bay of Cuma, there were just as many Tupinamba villages, and from there to Caete (in present day Para State) there were twenty to 24 more Tupinamba villages. Altogether there may have been as many as 40,000 to 50,000 tupinamba along the coast west of and including the Sao Luis island. Abbeville (1945:149) visited several villages on the island as well as in Tapuitapera and Cuma, and reported that these areas formed a "confederation" against their enemies. It seems, however, that each village or group of villages made war on their own against other Tupinamba and nonTupinamba tribes. Those of Cuma are reported to have gone as far west as the Lower Amazon, whereas those of the island fought the Tupinamba of the Mearim and Itapecuru Rivers, and of the Serra do Ibiapaba

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61 (Abbeville 1945:67-70, 95, 120-121). I have briefly described the Tupinamba of Maranhao for two reasons. First, because they were by far the largest Indian group in the region as well as along the coast of the rest of Brazil, and they contributed a great deal to the formation of colonial Maranhao (and Brazil in general) both in terms of demography and culture. Second, because it is necessary to know about the Tupinamba in order to set them apart from the Tenetehara. Both the Tenetehara and the Tupinamba spoke very similar dialects of the Tupi-Guarani language (Rodrigues 1965) and they may have even been mutually intelligable. Father Antonio Vieira, the famous Jesuit who spoke the Tupi lingua geral and was acquainted with both the Tupinamba and Tenetehara dialects, says that the latter dialect was "more similar to that of the carijos [a Tupi speaking tribe also known as Guarani in Southern Brazil and Paraguay] than to any other in, Brazil" (Vieira 1925:394-395). This is a puzzling statement for, to make ethnographic sense, we would have to postulate that the Tenetehara were recent arrivals in Maranhao as were the Tupinamba, the former having come a long way from Southern Brazil, and the latter from Pernambuco. At any rate, it is clear that both groups were very closely related linguistically which raises the question of cultural similarities between the two. However much the two groups shared from' the common culture in some time past, what is of interest here is to identify some basic cultural differences. First of all, it is postulated that the Tenetehara culture lacked the famous cannibalism complex of the Tupinamba which included the presence of a proto-idol-priest religion and large concentrations of people to maintain this complex (cf. Fernandes 1963, 1970; Metraux 1963, 1950). This conclusion is somewhat contradicted by a statement made by Vieira (1925:394) which is, however, to extrapolati ve to deserve much

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62 credit. He stated that it was a "universal custom" of all Indian groups in Maranhao "not to take or have names" without the ceremony of "breaking the head of an enemy." Since breaking an enemy's head was part of the cannibalistic ritual of the Tupinamba, this statement suggests that every Maranhao tribe was cannibalistic, something which can not be documented in the literature. In any event, without cannibalism, as it was known for the Tupinamba, Tenetehara society must have lacked a series of characteristics that made the Tupinamba so much the prize of Portuguese colonization. The Tenetehara seemed to be far less numerous within a given area, had smaller villages, and less social cohesion, or to put this in sociological terms, less social density. This Tenetehara social characteristic meant that their social structure was more flexible than the Tupinamba' s, thus offering more potential for new realignments in case of population loss, and ultimately more chances forsurvival. In short, the Tenetehara society of the early period of contact can be ' postulated to be more or less similar to other Tupi tribes, such as the Urubu-Kaapor (Huxley 1956; Ribeiro 1974) the Assurini (Laraia 1972) among others, which are characterized by small villages formed by groups of extended families, without lineages and political offices either within the village or the supra-village levels. Such types of social organization do not need symbolic elements such as cannibalistic rituals to keep their members as consciously sharing the same culture. The Tenetehara appear on the historical scene when the French began to explore the interior of Maranhao. In 1612, they contacted "a great nation" of Indians called the "Pinariens" on the Pindare River (Abbeville 1945:292, 295). Wagley and Galvao (1949:6) have already associated this Indian nation with the Guajajara (Tenetehara) Indians, as they were later

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63 called by the Portuguese. The contact with the French was rather short and played little part in Tenetehara ethnohistory. In 1614, the Portuguese arrived in Maranhao coming from Pernambuco with the purpose of expelling the French, which they accomplished a few months later. They took the island and the town of Sao Luis, and soon began to set up Portuguese colonization. By then the system of captaincies had been abolished and Portugal had set up a colonial administration of more central control located in Bahia. However, because it was easier to reach Maranhao directly from Lisbon (because of bad winds along the northern coast of Brazil) than from Bahia, the Portuguese Crown decided to set up a separate colonial government for Maranhao and Para. In 1621, the two small Portuguese settlements of Sao Luis and Belem along with the territory that ranged from the present Ceara State to the Lower Amazon became known as the State of Maranhao and Grao Para. It was ruled by a Crown appointed Governor ( governador ) and two Captain-generals (capitao-mor) who would preside over the town council, or camara, of each town (Marques 1970:298). According to JoHo Francisco Lisboa, a historian of Maranhao in the nineteenth century, the council had the following perquisites: 1) stipulate salaries for Indians and free workers. 2) Set up prices for craft goods, meat, salt, manioc flour, sugar rum, cotton fabrics and thread, medicines, and products coming from Portugal. 3) Levy taxes, organize Indian labor recruitment, fiscalize the missions, and declare war or peace toward particular Indian tribes. 5) Create settlements and outposts of Portuguese control (Marques 1970: 168). This administrative system continued through the period of Portuguese control of Brazil, although in 1772 the state had been divided into two separate entities, Maranhao and Para (Marques 1970:345).

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64 As soon as the Portuguese had expelled the French, and even before the system of state government had been set up, they began to organize the economy of the region. Land was distributed by the capitao-mor to the nobel conquerors, who then took on the business of setting up tobacco and sugar plantations. They needed labor to work their plantations and to build the infrastructure of the colony, so they immediately looked to the Tupinamba. The Tupinamba of Tapuitapera and Cuma rebelled against this imposition, apparently as they had not been treated likewise by the French, but they were quickly and bloodily put down by the capitao-mor, Jeronimo de Albuquerque, and his lieutenants Bento Maciel Parente and Mathias de Albuquerque. This represession took place either in 1616 (Marques 1970:298) or 1619 (Kiemen 1954:22), and as many as 30,000 Tupinamba are said to have been killed (Kiemen 1945:22 fn 10). In the words of Bernardino Berredo, a governor of Maranhao between 1718 and 1722 and one of its principal colonial historians, this repression "extinguished the last relics of the Tupinambg" (Marques 1970:298). To be more precise, Tupinamba Indians continued to exist, albeit in progressively smaller numbers and weaker culture. Indeed, in 1654, there were only five villages left in the island of Sao Luis (Vieira 1925:388),' and by the end of the century just "two or three small villages ( aldeotas )" (Bettendorf 1910:12). In 1730, there were still three Jesuit missions in Sao Luis, the largest of which had a population of 301 Christianized Indians, most of whom we may presume to be descedants of Tupinamba (Leite 1943:104-106). In short, the population decline of the Tupinamba of the island, in the space of 120 years of contact, was in the order of ninety percent.

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65 As far as the pre-contact population size of the Tenetehara is concerned, there is no other information but that of being "a great nation." In 1653, there were only a few (Vieira 1925:395; Moraes 1860:400 explicitly says five) Tenetehara villages on the upper Pindare River. Considering that the Tenetehara had suffered a bloody slave raid in 1616 and another sometime in the 1940s--both of which had made them rather fearful of the Portuguese (Prazeres 1891:43; Vieira 1925:395)--it is possible that their pre-contact population may have been as large as 3,000 people. In 1730, when the Jesuits had already set up two missions for the Tenetehara, Maracu and Sao Francisco Xavier, which may have included, at least nominally, most of the Tenetehara villages, there were 404 and 799 people, respectively. If these reconstruction inferences are valid, we may conclude that the Tenetehara did not suffer nearly as much population decline as the Tupinamba; in fact, a population loss of no more than sixty percent. There are four interrelated reasons that will explain this phenomenon. First, the Tenetehara were located far up the Pindare River, an area which was difficult to be reached by canoe because of fallen trees which impeded navigation. Therefore there v/ere natural barriers to bringing Tenetehara Indians down to a location of easy access to their Tabor by means of war and captivity. Second, the putative small population living in small dispersed villages did not much encourage the Portuguese colonists to make periodic slave parties against the Tenetehara. It certainly could not have been as lucrative as organizing expeditions against the large area population concentrations of the Tupinamba even as far away as the Tocantins River, or the large villages of Ge-like peoples of Eastern Maranhao. Third, the Jesuits took an early interest in the Tenetehara

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66 who in their turn responded to them in more trustful terms. This helped in protecting the Tenetehara from officially sanctioned Portuguese war parties ( entradas ) , but not unofficial war parties ( bandeiras ) or the danger of epidemic outbreaks. Fourth, and most importantly, the territory of the Tenetehara, even the area of the lower Pindare was not suitable, or at least not as suitable as other areas, to the plantation system of the Portuguese colonists. Instead, the areas of colonization were mainly those of the lower Itapecuru and Monim Rivers where tobacco and sugar plantations were set up, while cattle was herded in the fields ( perizes ) of the lower Mearim and in Tapuitapera (Bettendorf 1910:19; Marques 1970:63) Other Indian tribes of Maranhao suffered various degress of population loss and cultural disintegration during the same period. Those who lived in the areas of plantations, despite their ferocious resiliency at being "pacified," were progressively enslaved and/or missionized by the Jesuits. Tribes in other areas of Maranhao were left undisturbed until the latter half of the eighteenth century when the cattle frontier moving from Piaui and the agricultural frontier moving up along the Mearim and Itapecuru Rivers began to tax them for their land, as we will see later on. From the data found in Vieira (1925), Bettendorf (1910), Moraes (1869), Leite (1943), as well as the encyclopaedic study of the history of Maranhao done by Marques (1970), we can reconstruct a picture (Figure 2) of the distribution of Indian tribes in Maranhao in the seventeenth century. Many of these tribal names cannot be identified as to linguistic affiliation, although, following Nimuendaju (1937:58) it is likely that many of those not identified as Tupi speakers may have been of Timbira (Ge) affiliation. There is some question as to whether some of these Timbira tribes were inhabiting these areas prior to 1713 or whether they

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67 BRAZIL / V KREYE (i. PARA ""'ATLANTIC OCEAN trCATU ^ T' (AfAANA^-; kJ?LVE ^\ ffc^ ^UA%RES fUKO£KA»l'£kRA v^^v q:1 \ \ 'i' cahy/ohy >/pOBZ£ APINAV PARA APINAYE igARRA DO 'KEN PIAUl GOfAS Figure 2. Indian Groups in Colonial Times ^'"^^ Timbira Boundaries * 'Jesuit Missions so c 5"0 /OO ISO Scale

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68 immigrated from Piaui after that date when the cattle frontier displaced the many tribes of that state (Alencastre 1857:23; William Crocker, personal communication). Immigration of other Indian tribes into Maranhao has been recorded, as already mentioned, for the Tupinamba in the latter half of the sixteenth century, for tribes of unknown affi 1 iation (possible Ge or Kariri as they were said to be "nomadic") in 1698 coming from the state of Rio Grande do Norte (Marques 1970:394), and for the Urubu-Kaapor in the late nineteenth century coming from Para (Ribeiro 1974:33). The distribution of these tribes, as presented in Figure 2, remained more or less constant until the middle of the eighteenth century when, the colonization of Maranhao experienced a new impetus. But of course it should be borne in mind that through this early period those Indian groups located on the coast and on to the northeast of the Itapecuru River were in a progressive stage of acculturation. By the beginning of the nineteenth century they had become totally acculturated as peasants except in areas of Jesuit missions (Sao Miguel, Aldeias Altas, Sao Joao, and three villages on the island) where there remained Indian villages as corporate units separate from other Brazilian settlements (Spix and Martius 1938:462, 484). It is not clear that the French used Tupinamba labor in a compulsory fashion, but the Portuguese took the opportunity to do so as soon as they had taken over the area by defeating the French and their Tupinamba allies. I have already mentioned the suppression by the Portuguese of a Tupinamba uprising in 1616 or 1619 and the outcome of it as far as Tupinamba culture is concerned. Regarding the Tenetehara specifically, at least two slave parties were sent against them and they brought a certain number of Tenetehara to live near the Portuguese under the conditions of slavery.

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69 However, these slave parties did not destroy the basis of subsistence of the Tenetehara. Of the 1616(9) slave party, which was led by the notorious Indian slaver and later governor of Maranhao (1638-1641) (Marques 1970:302), Bento Maciel Parente, it is said that he went to the upper Pindare in search of precious stones and "after a few months, he returned without finding anything but the Guajajara [Tenetehara] Indians, against whom he made cruel and devastating war" (cf. Prazeres 1891:43 and also Wagley and Galvao 1949:6). The slave party of the 1640s was organized by one Lucena de Azevedo, capitao-mor of Para (not Maranhao) and he naively boasted in a Tetter to the King of Portugal that he had captured 600 Tupinamba and 50 couples of the "Pinare nation" (Kiemen 1954:67 fn 58), Confirmation of that slave party against the Tenehehara is found in Vieira (1925:395). No futher mention of slave parties against the Tenetehara is on record. Slave labor in Maranhao was used in two ways. First, as domestic labor in the private homes of the Portuguese colonists. In 1637, there were 230 vizinhos , or propertied colonists (Kiemen 1954:57), and by 1693 their number had increased to 600. This excludes the poor, nonpropertied colonists who are reported to be quite numerous (Ferreira 1894:32). All of them, we may be certain, had Indian domestic slaves. Second, Indians were used as field slaves to work the sugar and tobacco plantations that sprouted in the island and in the drainage area of the Itapecuru and Monim Rivers, and later in the 1720s on the lower Mearim River. Sugar cane was first introduced in 1622 (Marques 1970:63) and by 1641, when the Dutch temporarily took control of Maranhao for three years, there were five sugar mills in Maranhao and seven more were soon to come (Marques 1970:63). For every sugar mill there was a mill owner, but

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70 there were many more sugar cane plantation owners who were not rich enough to set up a sugar mill of their own. There is no information on the number of tobacco plantations but they must have been equally numerous, for the role of tobacco in the economy of Maranhao in the seventeenth century is as important as that of sugar. The Tenetehara brought to Sao Luis and to Azevedo's plantations worked both as domestic and field slaves. The rate of survival of Indian slave labor was extremely low. Cultural disruption caused anomie, a psychological condition of apathy which has been documented for other Indian societies as of most deadly effect. Indian families were taken out of their villages to live in the houses of the colonists, and they became part of the retinue of colonial households. Field slaves worked under foremen--who were generally mamelucos or assimilated mestizos (Vieira 1925:308ff )--who felt no particular sympathy to the well being of their charges. And there were the periodic epidemics of small pox and measles that caused the greatest population losses among the Indians. In the seventeenth century there were at least four big epidemics: measles in 1615 (Gaioso 1970:70) and 1663 (Marques 1970:312); small pox in 1620 (Marques 1970:298)and 1695 (Bettendorf 1910:xliii). This last one is said to have been brought by an African slave ship; it caused the highest population losses among aldeado Indians (those living in villages near the Portuguese and controlled by them) from Sao Luis all the way to Belem. There was, therefore, a constant need to replace the diminishing Indian labor power, since African slave labor, which was first brought in 1685 but was soon discontinued because of the lack of capital to pay for them, could not replace the Indians. Replacement of slave labor was

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71 effected by organizing war parties against Indian tribes." Such parties were called entradas, if they were organized and sanctioned by the colonial administration, and bandeiras , if they were organized by private individuals. The latter were generally made up of paulistas , or people coming from the economically depressed colony of Sao Paulo, who roamed all over the country enslaving Indians for sale to plantations owners in Bahia and Pernambuco, or hiring themselves to colonists who needed experienced slavers to wipe out aggressive Indian groups near their • plantations. Royal policy on the matter of the status of Indians was rather inconsistent through the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries. According to Kiemen (1954:162), it was stabilized in, the late 1680s. Indians had been declared "free" by a royal order as early as 1570 (Kiemen 1954:4), but through this and many other regimentos , or royal orders (for example, those of 1595, 1605, 1609, 1649, 1652, 1655, 1680, and 1686; [cf. Kiemen 1954]), the proviso that parties and expeditions could be organized to make war against Indian tribes that were threatening Portuguese property or that had refused to accept the teaching of the Gospel, or other conditions, such as Indians who had slaves to be sacrificed in cannibalistic ritual, was a convenient loophole for slave parties (cf. Kiemen 1954) Besides the Tupinamba and Tenetehara, as already mentioned, entradas and bandeiras were sent against the Barbados, Guanares, and Aracares in 1620 (Marques 1970:105-106), the Uruatis in 1649 (Leite 1943:144), Cahy-Cahy (or Caicais) in 1671 (Leite 1943:146), the Teremembes in 1679 (Bettendorf 1910:318; Leite 1943:161), and other tribes along the Parnalba River (Leite 1943:164). In the eighteenth century such predation continued against the Barbados in 1719, and 1721, and 1722, after

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72 this tribe had destroyed three sugar mills on the lower Mearim River (Marques 1970:105-106), the Gamella in 1785 (Marques 1970:132), and the various Timbira groups along the middle Mearim and Itapecuru Rivers (cf. Nimuendaju 1946:4ff). It must be noted, however, that not every defeated tribal Indian was taken into slavery. Some of the tribes, as for instance the Barbados and Aracares (or Aranhes) were "reduced" to live in an area near a Portuguese settlement so that they could be recruited to work in the colonists' plantations as they were needed. Sometime in the seventeenth century, four villages of non-Tupi Indians (possibly "Barbados") were brought down from the lower Grajau to the Sgo Lufs island to live in one single village so that easy access to them be made possible (Almeida 1874:262). In the case of aldeados Indians, or Indians brought to live in a particular village, slave labor could not be exacted from them. In fact, they were considered as "free" Indians and their labor was to be paid for in wages. Such wages were stipulated by the colonial administration through the town council. Wages were paid monthly and consisted of two yards of cloth and one iron implement in the midseventeenth century (Kiemen 1954:69). Free Indians lived in free villages, but they were administered by a Pai dos Crista~os (Father of the Christians), a colonial office that was filled by prelate until 1660 and then by a prelateappointed by the Governor acting as president of the Council. Such free villages had access to land for subsistence agricultural purposes, but they had little time of their own to pursue these activities to a satisfactory level. Indeed, as Vieira (1925:308ff) noted in 1653, the colonists of Maranhao used this form of free labor as corvee labor, particularly in public

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73 service works. Before the royal order of 1655, free Indians could be obliged to work at least for seven months out of the year (Kiemen 1954:69).. After 1655 they were obliged to work only two months at a time with two months' rest in between to pursue their own activities (Kiemen 1954:96ff). As late as 1808 (Gaioso 1970:111) descendants of the Tobajara (Tupinamb^) and Cahy-Cahy Indians living in the former Jesuit mission of Sao Miguel were annually recruited as corvee labor for public service jobs. Indians ofthe Franciscan and Jesuit missions of Sao Luis were particularly used for such works throughout the colonial period. In fact, according to a contemporary witness, enslaved Indians were better treated than free ones because the former were like "something close to the Master" (Kiemen 1954:70). Except for a brief period in the 1650s when Father Antonio Vieira, the famous Jesuit "defender of the Indians", was playing an important role in the making of Indian royal policy, Indians living in the missions of the Carmelites, Franciscans, and Jesuits, were also made available to perform labor for the colonists and the town council. Exceptions to that regulation were granted to particular Indian villages, as requested by the missionaries. But in all cases, the missionaries, who were receiving royal salaries plus travel money, were required to pay wages to the Indians who worked for them, either privately or in their agricultural enterprises. Theoretically, therefore, most of the Indian labor in . Maranhao was supposed to be free, but in practice, labor conditions were either of the slavery type or the serfdom type. The latter was the characteristic case of mission Indians.

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74 Serfdom Phase: 1653-1755 The year 1653 was chosen as initiating this period of Tenetehara inter-ethnic relations because it was in that year that they were first contacted by the Jesuit Padre Veloso who had been sent by Antonio Vieira. But as far as other Indian tribes are concerned, mi ssionization had started soon after the arrival of the Portuguese in 1615. The Franciscan friars of the Order of Saint Anthony were responsible for "reducing," or concentrating a large number of Indians, sometimes regardless of ethnic affiliation, into aldeamentos , or mission villages. But by 1637 the Franciscans had suffered many setbacks in the process of missionization and had practically given up (Kiemen 1954:44). Meanwhile, through the 1620s and 1630s, the Jesuits, under the vigorous administration of Padre Luis Figueira, were organizing their missionary work in Maranhao, and pulling their strings in Lisbon, particularly through the influence of Vieira. In 1638 they were given temporal control of the administration of the aldeias , and were receiving salaries from the tithes exacted from the sugar mills. From that date on the Jesuits became ' the most important and efficient missionaries in Maranhao and Para until their expulsion from Brazil in 1758. Throughout these years they were generally favored by the Portuguese Crown in their disputes with the colonists, the colonial administration, and the other religious orders (Kiemen 1954:169-170). The Jesuits, and probably the other religious orders as well, had two methods of reducing Indians, to villages and establishing a mission system among them. The first was a kind of joint enterprise between the missionaries and the colonial administration in which these two groups were combined to persuade a particular Indian tribe to accept the teachings

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75 was of the Gospel and be available for labor recruitment. This method a mixture of persuasion through gift distribution and coercion. It seemed to have been used particularly on Indian groups that did not speak the Tupi lingua geral , as in the case of the Uruatis, Barbados, Guanares, and Teremembes of north-central and northeast Maranhao. Such tribes were considered rather bellicose and shifty. They were semi-nomadic, i.e., . although having a permanent settlement, during the dry season the group disbanded in small units much like the Ge tribes of savannah-gallery forest area (cf. Maybury-Lewis 1974). This cultural trait made it only more difficult to reduce these groups in a peaceful way. In 1649, after a few months of contact, and having attempted to reduce the Uruatis to one settlement, three Jesuits and a lay brother were killed by them, allegedly because a young woman had been whipped by the missionaries (Bettendorf 1910:69). A war party was sent to punish these Indians but somehow they eluded their pursuers. In 1719 the Guanares killed a Jesuit who was trying to missionize them. Incidents of Jesuits being killed by Indians are usually restricted to non-Tupi Indians. The second method used by the Jesuits was that known as descimento . An Indian tribe would first be contacted by an emissary of the Jesuits, ' usually a Tupi-speaki ng Indian. He would talk about the Jesuits and the gifts that could be expected from them if the tribe accepted to come and live in a mission. Then a Jesuit would be sent with an entourage of mission Indians and loads of gifts to confirm these promises (Vieira 1925:395). In some cases the Indian tribe itself would send an emissary of their own to contact the Jesuits. Finally the Jesuits would persuade the tribe to come down to a place suitably located within easy access to a Portuguese town or settlement, but not too close as to be in constant

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76 contact with the colonists. In this way some Indian groups living west of the lower Pindare River were brought down to Tapuitapera (Marques 1970:66) and later in 1755 the Tupi speaking AmanajSs of the upper PindareUpper Gurupi area were persuaded to come down to a place near Sao Lu1s (Leite 194.3:195). Of course there are countless other examples for the state of Para. A variation of the descimento method was applied in conjunction with the colonial administration. In this case the Jesuits acted as ambassadors for the colonists, and the result of this combination was rather efficient. In the 1660s, in three entradas that were joined by Jesuits (one of which included Vieira), over 3,000 free Indians had been persuaded to come with them and live near the town of Belem, and 1,800 Indians had been taken as slaves to the same location (Kiemen 1954:114). At least 2,000 of these Indians were Tupinamba from the Tocantins River (Vieira 1925:554-555). These free Indians were placed inaldeiasto be Christianized and to serve as free laborers for the colonists. It was by the method of descimento that the Jesuits persuaded a group of Tenetehara from the upper Pindare River to come and live in a new mission on the lower Pindare River. The Tenetehara were already known by the Portuguese of Maranhao from two previous slave parties, and there were some Tenetehara living in S~ao Lui's. A Tenetehara group was sent back to their territory to announce the arrival of the Jesuits in a few months' time. Padre Vieira then sent Padre Veloso with another group of Indians, including some more Tenetehara, to the upper Pindare, a journey which took 34 days by canoe and six more days on foot through the forest of the Pindare. When Padre Veloso arrived in a Tenetehara village he found that it was practically deserted, most of the people

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77 having fled into the forest for fear of the Abare (A Tenetehara corruption of the Portuguese name Abade, or Abbot). By dint of persuasion, gift distribution, and the promise that the Tenetehara would not be recruited by the Portuguese to work in the plantations for at least two years, as the law prescribed (Southey T970, vol. 111:370), 70 Tenetehara were brought down to a place on the lower Pindar^ called Itaquy, which was located about 360 kilometers (60 leagues) upriver from Sao Lufs. In addition to their fear of colonists, the Tenetehara were also afraid of attacks from other Indian tribes, as they were outside their own territory. The Itaquy mission was therefore short-lived as the Tenetehara kept running away back to their territory on the upper Pindare. A few years later they were moved further downriver to Cajuipe. The Jesuits kept trying to recruit more Tenetehara from a place called Capytiba, probably on the upper Pindare. In 1673, the Cajuipe mission was attacked by unnamed Indians, and it took special military help from Sao Lufs to defend it. Finally, in 1683, with over 200 Tenetehara, this mission was transfered to Maracu, a place on the shores of an ox-bow lake on the lower Pindare. At one point in the 1680s, for unknown reasons, the Jesuits tried once again to move this mission, this time to the Monim River near ' Portuguese settlements, but most of the Tenetehara refused to go. Some that did go tried to return to Maracu, and on the way back nine of them were killed by another Indian group (Bettendorf 1910:80, 81, 83, 271, 456, 468-9, 505, 568; Vieira 1925:392, 394ff; Leite 1943:186, 188; Moraes 1860:400-1, 408-415). The Maracu mission was located on the fringes of the swampy fields, or fienzes of the Baixada Maranhense (the draineage area of the Pindare, Grajau, Mearim, Itapecuru, Monlm, and other minor rivers) and the Amazonic

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78 forest. Thus it provided, in Vieira's words, "the best pasture land in Maranh~ao" (Kiemen 1954:113 fn 111), on which to raise cattle, as well as plenty of forest land to grow sugar cane. The Jesuits capitalized on these resources with the efficiency that is well known of them, so much so that by 1730, Maracu had 15,600 cattle, 500 horses and burroes, and a prosperous sugar mill as well as the available labor of 440 Tenetehara (Leite 1943:188). Throughout its 72 years of existence the Maracu mission prospered above all other Jesuit missions in Maranhao, much to the envy of the colonists of the Itapecuru and Monim area, who from time to time tried to make the Jesuits defer to them the right to recruit Tenetehara labor from that mission. In 1712, there came a royal order for the Jesuits to share Tenetehara labor with the inhabitants of Icatu on the Monim River. This order was in fact a reiteration of a similar order which had been issued a few years before, and which the Jesuits had protested. Finally, in 1725, a royal order prohibited the colonists from attempting to recruit Tenetehara labor, except in case of war (Anais 1948, Vol 67:101, 211-212). The colonists, however, continued to keep a close eye on the Jesuits and their relations with the Tenetehara. In 1730, seven years after a new Jesuit mission was set up among the Tenetehara of the upper Pindare, a royal order granted the Jesuits permission to move this new mission, called S?o Francisco Xavier, five days down the upper Pindare to a place near the confluence of the Caru River. But the permission specified that the Jesuits were not allowed to use Tenetehara labor as they had been doing in their sugar mill on Maracu (Anais 1948, Vol 67:237-238). The organization of Tenetehara life in the mission has not been

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79 described by the Jesuit chroniclers of the colonial times (Antonio Vieira, Joao Felipe Bettendorf, and Jose de Moraes), nor by the recent Jesuit and Franciscan historians (Serafim Leite and Mathias Kiemen). But following the anthropologist Elman Service (1974:10) who reviewed the literature on the Jesuit mission system of Paraguayan, and the hi storian C. R. Boxer (1962:281-284) who did the same for other Jesuit missions in Brazil, we can feel confident in assuming that a mission as prosperous as Maracu had a type of schedule and discipline similar to the Paraguayan and other Brazilian missions. There were hours to study the catechism, hours for prayer, hours for recreational activities, and hours for work. Bettendorf (1910:272) says that recreational activities were mainly of a religious nature, as taught by the Jesuits. In one of these feasts, the Tenetehara are described carrying the image of the Virgin about the village while singing: " Tupa cy angaturana, Santa Maria Christo Yara ," which means approximately, "Tupa my step-father. Lord Christ and Saint Ma ry . " In terms of labor organization, Furtado (1963:75) has analyzed Jesuit labor practices in another part of the Amazon area as essentially of the "servitude" type. By that he means that the Jesuits had the Indians ' working in the extraction of forest products (vanilla, cacao, and other "hinterland drugs") for in exchange for a few "small objects." In the case of the Tenetehara in Maranhao where such hinterland drugs -were lacking, but where there were sugar cane plantations, a sugar mill to be operated, and cattle to be tended, it is likely that Tenetehara labor was organized in more efficient terms, i.e., by rules of a strict schedule and clear cut tasks allocated to particular individuals. I have chosen to liken this type of labor organization to the serfdom type. By that

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80 it is meant a system of labor organization in which the laborers work for their patrons as part of their social obligations rather than as free individuals engaged in economic transactions. There was no cash payment involved, but instead, probably a sytem of credit payment which was kept by the Jesuits until the time when 'the Tenetehara laborer was in need of it. By the law of 1655, those free Indians who were recruited to work in plantations were paid in a similar way: they were paid before leaving their villages and the money was kept in a box, one key to which was kept by the village administrator (Jesuit or secular, as the case may be), and the other by the appointed head of the village (Kiemen 1954:96ff). On their return from work they were given their wages, in commodities as already mentioned. Although a serf laborer is not allowed to share in the profits of his master's enterprises, in this case cattle and sugar, he is allowed to own part of his labor's products, in this case, the products of agriculture, hunting, and fishing. But even here the Tenetehara were expected to furnish the Jesuits with meat and fish without any recompensation. Work done for the general good of the mission, such as in the building of the missionaries' residence, the church and school, was also done for no payment (Kiemen 1954:110). The Tenetehara were not totally isolated from contact with the colonists of other areas of MaranhSo. At least they met in SSo Luts when the Tenetehara would take beef cattle from Maracu to be sold in the market of Sao Luis (Moraes 1860:415). However, there is no indication that through this contact and by virtue of the fact that the Tenetehara were given the responsibility of moving goods to a market, the Tenetehara ever acquired the ability to become traders or brokers, or any other

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81 skin that would raise them above the level of serf laborers and subsistence oriented Indians. ' ' The fact that the Jesuits kept the Tenetehara and many other Indian groups in their missions away from contact with civilization and in ignorance of the "arts of civilization," has been charged against them by many Brazilian historians, notably Caio Prado, Jr. (Prado 1967:98-101) as being a great impediment to the colonization of Maranhao and Para, and particularly the integration of the Indians in the colonial society. In my opinion, this is an incorrect analysis of the economic situation in these areas. First, I have already presented cases in which the Jesuits actually helped the colonists in bringing Indians into the colonial sphere of influence. Second, as Kiemen (1954) has shown, the Jesuits made a series of consessions to the colonists that allowed for almost full utilization of Indian labor from their missions. Third, in areas where the economy was vigorous and prosperous the Jesuits taught the Indians a few important skills with which they could earn a living. When Spix and Martius (1938, vol. 11:462) made their famous trip across the Brazilian northeast in the second decade of the nineteenth century, they reported that the Indians of Aldeias Altas who had been missionized by the Jesuits until the latter's expulsion in 1758 were making a living by manufacturing and selling pottery. It is important to note here that the region of Aldeias ATtas (later the town of Caxias) was an important entrepot and market for cattle fairs since the 1730s and for cotton after the 1760s. In short, it is my view that the Jesuits are not to be blamed for the economic backwardness of the area and the lack of Indian integration. The socio-economic conditions of Maranhao allowed no other course. On

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82 the other hand, the Jesuits should not be unduly credited for the survival of many Indian tribes because of their alleged eagerness in protecting the Indians from colonial predation. It is true that the Jesuits abhorred the idea and practices of enslaving peaceful Indians, but not all Indians in general. And as to using Indian labor in conditions hardly conducive to the improvement of their lot as free human beings, the Jesuits had no particular qualms about it. Indeed, several of Viera's letters (ex. Vieira 1925:279) talk about allowing the Jesuits to own slaves. In a letter to the king of Portugal, Vieira (1925:436) makes the suggestion that captive Indians should be allocated "firstmost to the poorest [of the colonists]." These were non-propertied Portuguese, in fact, Azoreans who had imigrated to Maranhao in 1619 as part of a program set up by the Crown to colonize Maranhao. Their number on arrival is reported as 400 families (Kiemen 1925:25), and by 1693 they constituted what a contemporary chronicler called the "poverty" of Maranhao (Ferreira 1894:32). In the same letter Vieira further suggested that the religious missions should not set up either tobacco or sugar cane plantations, nor that the Indians should be obliged to work in them. This was a suggestion that is hard to take seriously, and the Crown never ruled on the matter, nor for that matter did the Jesuits follow Vieira's suggestion. At any rate, Vieira obviously thought that Maranhao should be colonized by small enterprises that used a limited amount of extra labor beyond the family's labor capacity, not the large estates with large retinues. Vieira's philosophy was similar to that of another Jesuit, Padre Fernao Cardim, who lived in Bahia and was Vieira's early mentor (Cardim 1939). This philosophy probably reflected the best of Jesuit enlightenment at that time.

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83 During his long life (1608-1697) Vieira had considerable personal influence on the kings of Portugal , but it is likely that he was needed by the Crown only inasmuch as the Crown thought his suggestions were feasible within a general policy of colonization. The Crown needed settlers in its colonies to produce an economy that brought weal th to herself. And such an economy could only function in an atmosphere in which the colonists would be subservient to the Crown. Hence, it is argued here that the Crown heeded the Jesuits in their conflicts with the colonists for political purposes, rather than humanitarian considerations. The Jesuits were more obedient to the Crown than the colonists who, as they became economically strong, sought to achieve more control of the economic conditions in which they lived, including the trade with the mother country. In fact, the Beckman rebellion of 1684 in Maranhao was directed against the Estanco (a trade monopoly granted by the Crown to a Portuguese company which went against the economic interests of the colonists) as much as against the Jesuits (Kiemen 1954: 143-151ff ; Marques 1970:320-322). The Jesuits' consciousness of being vassals of the king of Portugal is illustrated in a letter of Vieira to the King concerning the "pacification" of the Nheengaibas of the Marajo island. In his words, with the pacification of these people "Para is now secured and impenetrable to all foreign power" (Vieira 1925:568-569). The modern Franciscan historian Kiemen (1954:170, 180, 186), whose book somewhat apologetically hails the system of missions as the best and most feasible experiment in dealing with the Indians, even in comparison with modern methods, acknowledges the close relationship between the Portuguese Crown and the Jesuits until the death of King Dom Joao V in 1750.

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84 In conclusion, as far as the Indians are concerned, Jesuits, colonists, and the Portuguese Crown should not be viewed in terms of the disputes among and between themselves as part of their different outlooks on the Indian, but rather as one political body with different parts that sought to recruit the Indian natives into the lowest social class of a society in the process of being created. They were successful inasmuch as the economic conditions of the times allowed. If it is true that had it not been for the Jesuits some Indian tribes still in existence would have perished, it is equally true that many tribes would never have had been contacted and brought into extinction, if it were not for the Jesuits' actions. What remains as a fact is that more Indians were destroyed in these first two phases of interethnic relations that afterwards. Indians, after all, were the only source of labor of the colony. They were, in the words of a later historian, "the wealth of Maranhao" (Marques 1970:306).

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CHAPTER V FREEDOM AND THE RISE OF PATRON-CLIENT RELATIONSHIP By the end of the phases of slavery and serfdom, the Tenetehara numbered 1,200 people, perhaps a little more. This is the only population figure we have for them and it comes from a Jesuit census made in 1730 (Leite 1943:188). There probably was some population growth in the interval between 1730 and 1755 but it was more than likely drastically counterbalanced by the disastrous smallpox epidemics of 1747-1751 1 (Marques 1970:337), In 1730, four hundred or so Tenetehara were living in Maracu mission, and the rest of them in the area under the control of Sao Francisco Xavier mission on the upper Pindar^ River. Throughout the Jesuit period of control it is postulated that the Tenetehara of the two missions were in contact with each other. This contact was not merely in the form of occasional meetings between Tenetehara men who paddled the Jesuit canoes up and down the Pindar^, but actually a permanent contact that involved ties of kinship. The Sao Francisco Xavier mission was probably a simple outpost of Jesuit control, not a full-fledged socio-economic operation as was Maracu, because its terrain was not suitable to either sugar cane plantations or cattle breeding. That it in fact existed is confirmed by a report of a German missionary, Father Winckler, who found some pieces of brass candle holders and other such paraphernalia in 1860 (Marques 1970:184). ^Boxer 1962:291 states that these epidemics took place between 1743 and 1750. 85

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86 It is difficult to assess the lasting influence of the Jesuits on Tenetehara culture. At the very least the Tenetehara acquired the belief in a Superior Being, called Tupa in the lingua geral and Tupan ^ in Tenetehara, as part of their cosmology and religious belief system. However, Tupa was never incorporated in Tenetehara mythology. The belief in saints, Catholic ritual, and such other things was quickly forgotten. Changes in the Tenetehara social organization, however much they actually occurred within the mission village system of serfdom, were not of long duration once the mission system was ended. Certainly the characteristics of post-Jesuitic Tenetehara social organization can be said to have been formed more as an adaptation to the contact situation with the colonists in the seventeenth century than from earlier Jesuitic influence. By and large, the significant influences on Tenetehara society after the Jesuit period were as much a result of the abolition of the mission system as the onset of new developments in the economy of Maranhao. This is a period in which the Tenetehara had a "break," so to speak, from contact with the colonial system. Freedom and Transitional Contact: 1755-1840 In 1755, the Portuguese Crown under the authority of its Plenipotentiary minister, the Marquis of Pombal , issued two important decrees. The first was that the Indians were once again declared free regardless of whether they were captured in "just wars" or bought as captives of other Indian tribes. Consequently, although punitive or defensive wars 2 V The symbol /a/ stands for a low back vowel; /y/ stands for a middle high vowel. Other Tenetehara phonemes used here have the same quality as the letters which represent them as used in Spanish.

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87 could still be waged against aggressive Indian groups, they could no longer be taken into captivity. Rather, conquered or "pacified" Indians were to be located in certain areas and provided with the "means for advancement," or integration into the colonial society. These "means for advancement" pertained to religious indoctrination to be carried out by secular or monastic (but not Jesuit) priests, economic betterment by the introduction of new crops, and the teaching of crafts skills. Political "advancement" meant learning how to organize their societies in terms of the Portuguese system of village organization. These last two "means" were to be taught by Portuguese skilled labor and an officially appointed administrator of the Indian villages. A policy of inter-marriage between Indians and the colonists was to be implemented as much as possible. This set of regulations was known as the Diretorio of 1755 (Prado 1967:101-7). The second royal decree cancelled the previous temporal control of the Jesuits over their aldeias . Instead, these aldeias were to be declared vilas , or townships, if they contained over 150 people, and lu2ares_, or hamlets, if their populations were less than 150. The administrative status of vila entailed a set of juridico-political offices, such as those of vereadores (aldermen), officiais da justiga (judges), and juiz ordinario (bailiff). Inasmuch as possible, these vilas were to be administered by their own people, and the fact that many actually did so indicates that the Indians were well acculturated and knowledgeable about the Portuguese colonial system of administration. The lugares, however, were to be regulated by a colonial administrator in conjunction with the local Indian leadership. The custom of appointing a native headman as capitao (captain) to mediate between his villagers and

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88 the administrator (or colonists) had already been instituted in 1733 (Araripe 1958:111). The result of these two royal orders was that the Jesuits found themselves suddenly in the uncomfortable position of being merely parish priests to their former charges. Finally, in 1758, the Jesuits were ordered out of Maranhlo and the whole of the Portuguese kingdom, and their properties were confiscated by the Crown and auctioned off to colonist landowners and merchants. For the Tenetehara it meant that from then on they were free from bondage to the Jesuits, but not quite so free as to be able to pursue the life style of their choice. They were expected to become civilized by adopting the legal trappings of the colonial society, while the economic conditions for this adoption were expected to come in due course. Indeed by 1757 Maracu mission acquired the status of vila with the name of Viana. In the same year, a new vila, called MonfSo, was created in another Guajajara (Tenetehara) village located a few miles upstream from Viana (IBGE 1959:226-7; Leite 1943:188). Unfortunately, there are no records of how these politicojuridical changes were effected, and how the Tenetehara attained the status of citizen of Maranhao. However, in economic terms, these two vilas progressed rather slowly since the area in which they were located did not experience the economic growth which was taking place elsewhere in Maranhao. This whole area seems to have "vegetated" economically, exporting only salted fish and manioc to Sao Luis until the 1820's (Lago 1872:407). On the upper Pindarg, the mission of Sao Francisco Xavier was abolished in 1755 and did not acquire even the status of lugar. In fact, due to several circumstances, the Tenetehara of that area lost contact with the national society and,

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89 in a sense, reverted back to a social organization appropriate to an economy exclusively for subsistence. The circumstances for this new isolation were brought about by the social consequences of an unprecedented economic development in the eastern half of Maranhao. In 1755, concomitant with, and perhaps as a result of, the abolition of the temporal powers of the Jesuits, the Portuguese Crown granted monopoly rights to the Companhia Geral do Gao Para" e Maranhao , a joint-stock company created to promote the cultivation and exportation of cotton in Maranhao. The valleys of the lower Mearim and the Itapecuru Rivers, which are characterized by mata de transigao , or transitional forest containing both some Amazon forest flora as well as flora of savannah-like vegetation ( cerrado ) , were particularly suitable for cotton cultivation. Moreover, since the lower course of these rivers had .been the center of Maranhao economy from the very beginning, there was sufficient labor and capital to further promote the area. In 1760, four years after the creation of the Companhia, 651 a'^'^obas (15 kg. each) of cotton were exported from the port of Sao Luis. In 1771, it had increased to 4,055 arrobas, and by 1811, 298,582 arrobas were exported (Gaioso 1970:179) . Beginning in 1766, dry rice cultivation was initiated in areas contiguous to cotton cultivation. Initially, "red or brown rice" ( arroz vermelho or arroz da terra ) was the variety planted, but since the market for which it was destined, Lisbon, preferred "white rice" ( arroz branco ), the colonists in Maranhao were ordered in 1772 to cultivate only the latter variety (Marques 1970:91-93). From then on rice became second only to cotton in goods exported from Maranhao (Machado 1810:65). Both cotton and rice production had an enormous effect on the colonization of Maranhao, east of the lower and middle Mearim River. As the

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90 Indians had been declared free, labor was imported in the form of slaves from Africa. No attempts at colonizing the region by small agricultural enterprises were ever made. The first African slaves arrived in the region in 1761 (Marques 1970:265). Slave labor progressively became the main source of labor, particularly in the area around Cod5 on the lower Mearim until the abolition of slavery in 1888. African slaves changed the character of Maranhao not only in terms of demography, but also culturally. In the first instance, according to Koster (1942:250), by the second decade of the nineteenth century, the majority of the popula tion of Sao Luis (said to be 12,000 people) was Black. The town of Ribeira de Itapecuru (later Itapecuru-Mirim) in 1805, perhaps the most prosperous non-mercantile town in Maranhao at that time, had a total population of 13,672 people, which Gaioso (1970:164) divided in the following way: 11,775 were slaves, 306 were fazendeiros (plantation owners) who with their families numbered 1,606, 26 were businessmen, 174 were jornaleiros (journey-men, probably unpropertied farmers), 23 were artistas (craftsmen) and the rest were civil officials, clerics, and beggars. These figures, if correct, were probably not representative of other towns in the region. Nevertheless, they reflect the demographic changes occurring in Maranhao. In terms of class structure, Gaioso (1970:115-123) places the Black slaves above Indians but below mulatos/ mestizos , nacionais (or Creoles), and the "sons of the kingdom" ( filhos do reino , or Portuguese-born). Economically speaking. Blacks provided agricultural and domestic labor, mulatos were the craftsmen, Creoles owned plantations, and the Portuguese were representatives of the Crown and merchants of the export trade. Indians lived in their villages producing only for subsistence, and were viewed as one of the main

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91 barriers to the continuing development of Maranhao because they were controlling needed land (Gaioso 1970:227). The expropriation of land from the Indians of northeastern Maranhao had, of course, been in progress from at least the beginning of the eighteenth century (cf. Marques 1970:158). If the presence of Jesuits' missions is an indication of this process of expropriation (and I believe it is), this region was heavily missionized. There were three such missions on the lower Itapecuru (Itapecuru, Barbados Pequenos, and Barbados Grandes); one on the upper Itapecuru (Aldeias Altas), one on the lower Monim (Sao Jose); one on the lower Mearim (Gamella); three missions on Sao Luis island; and one in Tapuitapera (now called Alcantara) (Azevedo 1930, Map 1), All the same, there were still many "unpacified" Indian tribes in this economically booming region, and they had to be brought to submission. The great majority of these Indians were Timbira of the Ge linguistic family (cf. Nimuendaju 1946), while the Gamella were of undetermined affiliation although having a culture similar to the Timbira tribes (Nimuendaju 1937:66, 68-70). In 1747, the Gamella of the lower Mearim numbered eleven villages (Nimuendaju 1937:51). By 1796 there was only one village left. Apparently they had been "pacified" by two expeditions in 1762 and 1785 and some of them had been taken to Cajari (later Penalva) and Lapela, located on the lower Mearim and lower Pindare (Marques 1970:132, 344; Gaioso 1970: 231). However, they continued to harass the colonists of the area. In 1810 they attacked Cajari and threatened to attack Viana, the former Maracu mission (Paula Ribeiro 1841:194). It was this tribe as well as the groups believed to be Timbira living west of the lower Pindare that kept a constant pressure on the colonial population of that area and

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92 virtually cordoned off the Tenetehara from contact with the colonists. This continued until the second decade of the nineteenth century when the Game! la were effectively brought under control. By 1820 they were living in villages near Penalva, Mongao, and Viana (Lago 1872:396, 411, 412; Paula Ribeiro 1848:40). The Tenetehara's loss of contact with the colonial towns of the lower Pindare is illustrated in the literature of this period by the absence of any mention of this tribe throughout the last half of the eighteenth century, or the confusion of this tribe with other tribes in the early nineteenth century. In 1810, when captain Paula Ribeiro came to pacify the roaming Gamella of the lower Pindare, he reports that Guajaojara ( sic ) Indians were a Timbira group that roamed between the lower Mearim and the lower Grajau, but having their villages west of the Pindarg (Paula Ribeiro 1841:194). Gaioso (1970) who wrote his book during the second decade of the nineteenth century, never mentions the Tenetehara. Lago (1872:412-413, 421), who visited the area of the lower Pindare in 1820, mentions the Tenetehara only as "savages" "who are of the worst kind" roaming between the Pindare and the lower Grajau Rivers and on the Mearim River. It seems clear that none of these chroniclers saw a Tenetehara Indian, except those living in towns. The Tenetehara of Viana and Mongao had become relatively integrated into the national society. Lago (1872:407, 412) reports that Viana had a population of 843 souls of whom 400 were Indians "already civilized and obedient to our laws." Mongao is said to have had 90 souls of whom 40 were civilized Indians. Whereas he specifically mentions the name Gamella for the Indians living near these towns, the name Guajajara (Tenetehara) is not mentioned. Paula Ribeiro and Gaioso also do not

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93 refer to these civilized Indians as Guajajara. Clearly, then, the Tenetehara of these towns had become assimilated to the point of having lost contact with their "savage" brothers living upstream on the upper Pindare. They may even have lost their native language. Indians and the Economic Frontiers Beginning in the nineteenth century, the Indians of Maranhao were categorized as one of three types, according to the degree of contact . and integration with the national society. Gaioso (1970:119-120, 227, 110) implicitly recognized the following distinctions, even though he had placed Indians in general in one social class, but it was Lago (1872:411) who distinguished Indians in this way: (1) "civilized" Indians who "observe our laws, habits and custom"; (2) "domestic" Indians who live in villages, keep their customs, are agriculturalists, but lack "skills" ( habilidades ) ; and (3) "savage" Indians who are nomads and hostile. Progressively, this first category was abolished, as "civilized" Indians became peasants, but the other two remained in use' until the creation of the Indian Protection Service (SPI) in 1910. By the 1820s, most tribes of Maranhao had been brought under the control of the colonial and then provincial authorities, at least to the point of precluding aggressive behavior toward the colonists. There are only two or three cases of Indian groups attacking Brazilian settlements after that decade. This control had been brought about by planned warfare, such as Paula Ribeiro's expedition against the Gamella, as already cited, and his and Lieut. Col. Francisco Morais' expeditions against the Timbira tribes of southcentral Maranhao (cf. Marques 1970:80; Nimuendaju 1946). It was also the result of the colonization process in the areas of rice

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94 and cotton and in the cattle region of the upper Itapecuru and scattered savannah pockets in northeast Maranhao. Darcy Ribeiro (1970), using a large body of data in his study of the extinction of Indian tribes in Brazil between 1900 and 1957, demonstrated the differential damaging effects brought upon Indian groups by agricultural versus cattle frontiers. His conclusions that the former frontier destroyed more Indian tribes than the latter is on the whole correct, but in closer view of particular cases, these conclusions call for refinement. To begin with, both types of frontier situations demand the land of the Indians. The cattle raising frontier needs little labor, but on the agricultural frontier, Indian labor can be used, if the population of colonizers is not large enough to satisfy the requirements of the outside market. Thus Indian groups have a chance of survival provided that their labor is used in the context of their own mode of production, not in a mode of production that leads to socio-cul tural disruption. When their own mode of production is preserved, the Indian economy can be linked to the colonists' economy through the medium of a trade economy. For a trade economy to take place, of course, the colonists must be in need of goods which the Indians can provide. These goods can be either food staples which the colonizers, busy with other pursuits such as the production of cotton and rice for export, may not produce in sufficient amounts, or extractive goods, such as skins and forest products which the Indians may have an advantage in procuring. Labor can be a commodity in a trade economy, but it must be effected under special conditions so that the Indian society does not lose social cohesion. If a trade economy does not materialize, then there is little chance that the

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95 Indian group will survive for the lands will be taken and their labor will be sought with disregard for their socio-cultural cohesion. As stated above, the cattle frontier, with its labor-extensive mode of production and its use of vast tracts of land does not need Indian labor, and consequently Indian tribes are wiped out, or at best relegated to reservations. This was the case of the Indians of the State of Piaui in the eighteenth century. In Maranhao, the majority of the savannah Timbira groups living on the cattle frontier were also wiped out, but the Canella (Ramkokamekra and Apanyekra), the Western Gavioes, and the Krikati were spared, basically because their lands were bypassed by the cattle frontier. As to the forest Timbira groups living on the agricultural frontier, none survived this contact situation. They apparently were unable to adjust their socio-economic organization sufficiently to create a trade economy with the colonizers. By the end of the nineteenth century, there remained only a few families of formerly large forest Timbira groups. Thus Ribeiro's theory so far seems correct. The exception that leads us to refine it is the Tenetehara Indians. As they moved closer to this agricultural frontier, they were able to relate with the colonizers through a trade economy, which not only provided a buffer against largescale disruptive labor recruitment but also allowed the Tenetehara to expand territorially and demographically. This process will be demonstrated in the following section. The Period of Patron-Client Relationships: 1840-1910 This historical period begins with the re-establishment of interethnic relations between the Tenetehara and the newly independent Brazilian natian.

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96 These relations are characterized in general by the mediation of a trade economy. In fact, two kinds of trade economies, one based on the sale of agricultural products, and the other on extractive forest products took form. The anlysis of these trade economies will be carried out in detail in Chapter VIII. What is of interest here is how these trade economies brought the Tenetehara into social relations with the Brazilians, and what the consequences of these relations were. As an analytical concept, the term patron-client relationship is used here to represent the social relations between Tenetehara and Brazilians during this period. This term designates a type of social relation whose first principle is one of ascribed inegal itarianism. The Brazilians always relate to the Tenetehara from a superordinate position on the basis that they are superior politically and economically. Conversely, the Tenetehara relate to the Brazilians as inferiors to superiors. Economic superiority means here that the Tenetehara are more dependent on the goods they obtain in trading with the Brazilians than the other way around. Tenetehara trade goods are not crucial to Brazilians because they can be obtained by the Brazilians themselves; but in practice, because of the availability of Indian labor, the Brazilians rely on the Tenetehara for the acquisition of such commodities. On the other hand, only the Brazilians can furnish the Tenetehara with the kinds of manufactured goods that they need and cannot themselves produce. Political superiority is used in the sense that the Brazilians have the political power through which they can manipulate the Indians into submission. Such manipulations can take the form of missionary efforts to make them Christians, the organization of programs in their villages for the purpose of "civilizing" them, and even in threats to take away their lands, their means of livelihood, or their children.

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97 More specifically the patron-client relationship is a relation between a Brazilian trade, store owner, or landowner, and a Tenetehara man. The Brazilian is the patron ( patrao ) who sets up a socioeconomic relationship with his client, the Tenetehara, in such a way that they both are bound to each other in a system of rights and duties. The patron has the right of access to the economi c production intended for trade of his client, as well as, by virtue of the economic superiority of his society, to fix the prices for the goods which he buys and sells to his client. The patrao has the obligation to provide credit to his client even during the season in which the client's trade production is sparse or nil. The client, too, has the right to demand credit from his patron, and the obligation to buy from and sell to him exclusively. It should be stated here that this relationship seldom takes the form of fictive kinship ties (the compadresco system) between a Tenetehara and a Brazilian. In those few cases when Indians enter into the compadresco relationship, it is formed with a simple Brazilian peasant rather than a patrao. The Provincial Indian Policy System: 1840-1889 In addition to the institution of patron-client relationship operating through the trade economies, the Tenetehara related to the Brazilian society through the direct mediation of the provincial government. Brazil, of course, had become independent of Portugal in 1822, and Maranhao was now a province of the Brazilian empire. Through the first 23 years of independence, Brazil had retained the former Portuguese Indian policy which had been articulated in a Royal Letter of 1808. This policy con' sidered the aldeado Indians, i.e., Indians living in peaceful relations with the national society, as "useful vassals . . . who are subject to the sweet yoke of the laws," but for those Indians who were aggressive

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98 (" anthropophaqos ," literally "cannibals," in the terms of the Letter), offensive wars should be carried out to bring them to submission and even a ten-year slave period (cf. Moreira 1967:177). Such a proviso had been used against several Indian tribes such as the Timbira of Maranhao, the Botocudos of Espirito Santo, and the Kaingang of Southern Brazil (cf. Moreira 1957, 1971). It was only in 1845 that an imperial decree was promulgated that prohibited, for the first time in Brazilian history, the organization of war parties against any kind of Indian tribe. That this legal injunction was not followed in practice where circumstances called for has been demonstrated by Moreira (1967, 1971). The Decree of 1845 set up a system, called the directory ( diretoria ). to administrate the affairs of the Indians, and it remained in operation until the fall of the monarchical regime in 1889, The purpose of the system was to integrate the Indians into the national society by providing them with the proper means to become civilized. The actual administration of the system was to be in the hands of the provincial governments, which were given a yearly budget of 2$000:000 (two million rei s , the Brazilian currency of the times), later decreased to 1$000:000 (Marques 1970:206). The president of each province would appoint a Director-General for the Indians ( Diretor Geral dos Indios ) with the military title of brigadier. He in turn would appoint local directors ( diretores parciais ) , with the title of lieutenant-colonel, for every Indian village which he could bring into his sphere of influence. This local administrative unit was called the local directory ( directoria parcial ) . A treasurer, a steward (almoxarife) , and a surgeon, were to be appointed for the most important villages, whereas remote villages should benefit from the presence of a missionary. The duties of the local directors, as the upholders of

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99 imperial policy, were to: (1) protect the Indians' rights to their land; (2) care for the foundation, tranquility, and development of Indian villages; (3) provide the Indians with civil, religious, and artistic instruction; (4) fiscalize and make use of the income of the villages "according to governmental policy" (Araripe 1958:64-66). The local directors also appointed the headmen of Indian villages who received the miliatry title of capitSo, a custom that, as already noted, started in 1733, and which has been continued to the present time by FUNAI. Having started in 1845, there were at least 14 local directories by 1858. Seven of these directories may have been Tenetehara (Relatorio do Diretor-Geral 1858:155). In 1887 (Relatorio do Diretor-Geral 1887: 40-47) there were 24 such directories of which 12 were Tenetehara. The directory system, in its legal and practical terms, was a system of patron-client relationship. The local directors could and did move villages at their convenience. The Indians had to ask permission ultimately of the director-general to move their villages to another location (Relatorio do Presidente 1854, 1856). Except for a few missionaries who visited one or another Indian village, there was no instruction of any sort given to the Indians. As to the "fiscalization" of village income, the directory system was quite exploitative. In fact, most of the local directors were involved in the trade economy as patrons to the Indians, and what "fiscalization" amounted to was the private business of the local directors. In any event, when fiscalization was done and reported to the provincial authorities, exploitation was still the order of the day, as an example provided below will show. As part of the directory system, the provincial government of Maranhao created several so-called "colonies" (colonias) for both Indians and

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TOO Brazilians. The purpose of such colonies was to form a community of farming peasants in order to populate and exploit a particular area as well as bring it into economic and political articulation with the provincial government. These colonies received credit in the form of agricultural implements and seeds. If the colonists ( colonos ) were Indians, they were provided with an administrator who was either a missionary or a prominent man from the nearest town. In 1840 a Tenetehara village was organized as the first colony, called Sao Pedro do Pindare, on the lower Pindare River about 48 kilometers upstream from Moncao. The organizer was a lieutenant-colonel Fernando Luis Ferreira (Ferreira 1842). With the support of the provincial government he purchased 36 square kilometers of land from a citizen of Mongao for 2:000$000 in order to legalize the colony (Marques 1970:206). This village consisted of "one hundred and some" people. It is clear, therefore, that by that date some Tenetehara had moved down to the lower Pindarg and settled there. In Ferreira's report he asks for a missionary to catechize and a school to educate the Indians. He wrote against the local custom of taking young Indians into private homes as not being conducive to the civilization of the whole tribe. Instead, he proposed that a few Indians be educated in a Brazilian town, in unspecified ways, and then be brought back to influence the rest of their tribesmen. Ferreira's exposition of the "cultural dispositions" of the Tenetehara was rather sensitive and culturally relativistic. He was particularly sympathetic to the "mutual cooperation" by which the Tenetehara conducted their economic affairs. He praised the village headman ( chefe ) as hard-working and an example to his fellow villagers.

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101 Sao Pedro do Pindare as a Tenetehara colony was not successful. By 1849 it had incorporated several non-Tenetehara Indian families, probably remnants of the Gamella and lower Mearim Timbira groups, and it numbered only 120 people. In 1861 there were 76 Indians, in 1870, 44, and in 1887 only 24 Indians in the colony (Relatorio do Diretor Geral 1887: Anexo 4). In the provincial terminology and economic sense of the word, it was in "decadence" (Marques 1970:205). Clearly these Indians, Tenetehara or Timbira/Gamella had become assimilated or, and this pertains mostly to the Tenetehara, they had returned to their villages where they entered into relations with the national society without the supervision of provincial authorities. Another colony, Januaria, which was set up for the Tenetehara living on the upper Pindare River in 1854, fared much better than SHo Pedro for its population remained constant throughout its existence, i.e., until the end of the monarchical period in 1889. A total of six colonies had been established for the Indians in MaranhSo by the end of this period, five of which were for the Tenetehara. Three of those, which had respectively 150, 517, and 149 Tenetehara in 1881 (Relatorio do Presidente 1881:109) had been founded only after 1872 (Relatorio do Presidente 1872). At various times the Tenetehara colonies were administered by Catholic missionaries from whom they received religious instruction rather than local landowners or ci vi 1 -mi 1 i tary officials. In terms of economics the provincial reports ( Relat6rios ) hardly ever mention how the economies of these colonies were being managed, although the Tenetehara are always spoken of as having a "strong disposition" toward work and civilized manners (Relatorio do Presidente 1854, 1855, 1859, 1883). Concerning the colony of Sio Pedro, in 1855 (RelatSrio

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102 do Presidente 1856) inhabitted by 119 Tenetehara, there were an ironsmith and a carpenter (apparently non-Tenetehara) , while six Tenetehara men were engaged in sawing lumber for sale in the town that was being formed near the colony. The rest of them planted manioc, rice, corn, and were engaged in producing castor oil for sale. In other colonies the Tenetehara were engaged in the trade of copaiba oil (Relatorio do Presidente 1855, 1867, 1883), selling manioc flour to local townspeople (Relatorio do Presidente 1856:68) and working in the construction of roads. An assessment of how the economy of these colonies was "fiscal ized" by the provincial government is candidly stated in the Relatorio do Presidente of 1866. It says that the colony of Leopoldina (located on the middle Mearim River and which was constituted of Ge speaking Crenzes and Pobzes groups) had exported 32 sacks of cotton in November, 1865, and 16 more sacks in February, 1866, to the offices of the Director-General. This cotton had been sold, the income from it had been computed against the expenses of providing the colony with certain unspecified goods, and the net profit of 1:175$217 had been "collected by the provincial Treasury." Nothing seems to have been returned to the Indians. The economic system operating in the colonies therefore resembles the Jesuitic serfdom system. Under the new conditions of a continually expanding economy of nineteenth-century Maranhao such a system was quite anachronistic and doomed to failure. The Indians consequently preferred to deal directly with traders and local store owners (patrons) who were at least less inequitable in economic transactions. From the earliest provincial Relatorio (1852) concerning the Indians of Maranhao (as well as from other data: IBGE 1959:86; Plagge 1858) it is evident that the Tenetehara had expanded into areas beyond their early

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103 habitat on the upper Pindare River, even into a new ecological zone, the mata de trans iggp. Tenetehara migration had probably begun in the second decade of the century, first toward the lower GrajaG River, as can be inferred from the information found in Lago (1872:413, 421) and Paula Ribeiro (1841:194). This migration was carried on by groups of families which could maintain even in such small numbers as 30 or 40 people, all the socio-cul tural ingredients of a Tenetehara village life and culture (cf. Wagley and Galvao 1949). There are two reasons for the migration of the Tenetehara to the lower GrajaG River and subsequently up this river and thence to the upper Mearim River region (See Figure 3). The first is that, after an interlude of some 70 years, the Tenetehara probably wished to enter into economic relations with the Brazilian colonists. It is likely that during the Jesuit period the Tenetehara had become accustomed to the use of iron implements, particularly axes and machetes, and now they wanted to obtain these goods on a permanent basis. In other words, the Tenetehara were in search of a market. The second reason is that the tribes of the lower GrajaG River had now become so small in numbers and powerless that they could not defend their territory and so they left vast areas uninhabited which were not too far from Brazilian settlements. The Tenetehara capitalized on this situation and progressively began to move up the Grajau River. By the 1840s they had reached the region that was economically controlled by the towns of Barra do Corda (founded in 1836) on the Mearim River and GrajaG (founded in the 1810s) on the GrajaG River. At the same time that they migrated towards this region of mixed agricultural and pastoral frontier the Tenetehara were also migrating toward the Gurupi River and into the State of Par'a, a region which was rich

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104

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105 in copaiba oil, an extractive product which was beginning to have export value (Nimuendaju 1951:181 fn. 6). These contemporaneous migrations could only be effected if the Tenetehara had a fairly large population, perhaps . as many as 2,000 people living on the upper Pindare River in about 1800. ' This population continued to increase through this expansionary phase so that by the 1870s there were from 2,000 to 3,000 Tenetehara in the Gurupi-Para region and 2,500 in the Barra do Corda-Grajau region (Relatorio do Presidente 1856). At the same time there were close to 1,000 Tenetehara living on the Pindare River (Relatorio do Presidente 1856), their aboriginal habitat which had not been depopulated by this migration. Thus there was a total population of about 6,000 Tenetehara as a distinct ethnic group by the end of the nineteenth century. This is, I believe, a conservative estimate. A liberal estimate would place the number of Tenetehara at some 10,000 people for in the second to the last Relatorio do Diretor-Geral (1887:40-47) the total number of Indians of Maranhao is estimated at 25,000. The Tenetehara constituted by far the largest tribe. The estimate of this Relat5rio can be contrasted with Paula Ribeiro's estimate of 80,000 "savage" Indians and Spix and Martius' estimate of 9,000 aldeado Indians for the second decade of the nineteenth century. The majority of "savage" Indians was of Timbira affiliation who, of course, had suffered high population loss in the interval between the 1810s and the 1880s (cf. Spix and Martius 1938:463 where Paula Ribeiro's estimate is found, and page 462 for the authors' own estimate). Whichever estimate is closer to the truth it represents the largest population of Tenetehara in their history as well as the largest territory occupied by them. Throughout the nineteenth century there were periodic outbreaks of smallpox as in 1836, 1840-42, 1846, 1855, and measles in 1839,

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106 considering only the period to 1870 when Marques (1970:194) published the first edition of his book. Nevertheless, the Tenetehara continued to grow in numbers. In terms of territory, the Tenetehara inhabited the regions of the Gurupi, Guama, and Capim , Rivers in ParS; the upper and lower Pindare River, the Zutiua River (a tributary of the Pindare), and the lower and upper Grajau River. These regions were in the Amazon forest ecological zone. The Tenetehara had also moved into the upper Mearim River region which is part of the transitional forest zone. These regions were only sparsely populated by Brazilians with the exception of the lower Pindare and portions of the upper Mearim. In most of these regions, therefore, the Tenetehara were in contact with Brazilians only through the extractive trade economy of copaiba oil transacted through middlemen as canoe traders (re^atoe^), who would visit Tenetehara villages to deal with them. These canoe traders had their permanent homes in the towns of Gurupi, Vizeu, and Carutapera-for the Tembe-Tenetehara of Para (cf. Dodt 1939:167; Brusque 1862:15; Marques 1970:178), and Mongao for those of the Pindare River (Marques 1970:398). The Tenetehara of the upper Mearim River, however, dealt with Brazilians in a more direct way, as they were involved in the trade of agricultural goods, for there are no copafba trees in this region. The town of Barra do Corda was the fulcrum of Tenetehara contact with Brazilians in the upper Mearim River region (cf. Marques 1970:106-7 for the population, and economy of Barra do Corda in the 1860s). These two types of trade economy will be analyzed in Chapter VIII, but we may conclude here that the system of patron-client relationship, as defined above, was the form of social relations between the Tenetehara and Brazilians throughout the nineteenth century and into this century.

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107 During this expansionary movement the Tenetehara had to defend themselves in their encounters with the forest Timbira tribes. Of course if the forest Timbira tribes had not suffered the "pacification" raids of the early 1800s and had not been "reduced" to the conditions of laborers for the agricultural frontier, it is very likely that the Tenetehara would not have been able to do battle successfully against these tribes. This is because the Timbira tribes are so organized socially that aggressive behavior toward outsiders is channelled more systematically and effectively (cf. Nimuendaju 1946; Maybury-Lewi s 1974) than it is in Tenetehara society. The Tenetehara are organized in loosely structured extended family groups with no explicit supra-vi 1 lage ideology to give these groups a social cohesion as strong as the Ge (Timbira) tribes. The Tenetehara, therefore, being in a state of constant emergency, restructured their society so as to defend themselves against Timbira attacks. The way they did that seemed to have been, if Plagge's account (1857:206), is believable, by organizing the young and unmarried men as the warrior group of a particular village. Plagge's account stresses that these men slept outside their huts at night so as to protect the village from surprise attacks. It is possible that a men's association was instituted at that time, but it became unfunctional after the decline of Timbira aggression, probably in the latter quarter of the century. The result of these inimicable relations between Tenetehara and Timbira groups was the mutual distrust that has prevailed", although in progressively attenuated forms, to this day. The last confrontation between them took place in 1901 and it was instigated by the Brazilians, as we will shortly see. In the Pindare and Gurupi River regions, the Tenetehara had difficulty

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108 not only with Timbira groups but also with fugitive Black slaves who had settled between the Pindari and Maracassume Rivers since the early IBGOs. These settlements, called quilombos , were finally destroyed in 1853 (Marques 1970:377). The Tenetehara call Blacks by a special term, Earana_, which contrast with the term karaiw used for other Brazilians. The term awa_ is used for all non-Tenetehara Indians. All these terms have derogatory connotations. It was the Urubu-Kaapor Indians who were moving into the territory between the Pindare and Gurupi Rivers in the latter half of the century who hindered , Tenetehara expansion most. The Urubu-Kaapor were very aggressive warriors, and their aggression against the Tenetehara culminated in 1918 when they attacked a Tenetehara village near the recently founded Indian Post on the lower Pindare River (Ribeiro 1970:' 178). One other tribe with which the Tenetehara were in contact was the Guaja Indians, a Tupi group living in small nomadic bands between the upper Gurupi and the upper Pindare Rivers. The Guaja^ however, were rather easy prey for the Tenetehara and other Indian tribes of the region (cf. Brusque 1862:17; Huxley 1956:94; and personal data). Of course the Tupi Amanajos. who lived on the upper Pindare above the Tenetehara had by the end of the century become reduced to one single village. It is possible to ascertain the number of Tenetehara villages at the close of the century in only one region, that of the upper Mearim River, in between the towns of Barra do Corda and Grajau. In terms of location of villages we can only state that they were found either along the cited rivers or near a lake or such permanent sources of water. In 1897 (Arquivo da Curia 1897-1901) there were 22 Indian villages in the upper Meriam region of which eighteen were Tenetehara with a total population of probably 1,500. This census had been taken by Italian Capuchin friars who

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109 in 1895 set up a colony in the form of a mission town with the purpose of creating "a city of Indians." This mission was called Alto Alegre and was located on the fringes of the Amazon forest and the transitional forest, at an almost equal distance between Barra do Corda and Grajati. The development of Alto Alegre, albeit of short duration (1895-1901), played a most important role in the formation of Tenetehara-Brazilian interethnic relations in both detrimental and beneficial ways for the Tenetehara. It should be remembered that since the proclamation of the Republic in 1889, the previous Indian policy of directories and colonies had been abolislied, and no other Indian policy had been instituted. Moreover, the constitution of 1891 had separated the Church from the State, and antireligious, or more precisely anti-Catholic, feelings, translated through Masonic lodges and positivistic temples, were acquiring popularity among the educated groups in Brazil, even in such remote places as Barra do Corda. Such feelings, as far as Indian policy is concerned, were finally institutionalized with the creation of the Servigo de Protegao aos tndios (SPI), in 1910 (cf.' Stauffer 1959-1960; Ribeiro 1962). The Alto Alegre Incident and the Grajau-Barra do Carda Region In the interval preceding 1910, however, the control of the Indians of Maranhao was in the hands of landowners and storeowners in the patronclient relationship or of missionary groups. The Capuchin Order of Lombardy, Italy,came to Maranhao in 1894, and, after receiving permission from the provinical government to catechize and civilize the Indians of Maranhao as well as the Brazilians, they came to Barra do Corda in 1895. There they soon set up the Indian Institute ( Institute Indlgena ) for

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. • no Indians of less than 14 years of age who might be persuaded to leave their i villages. Both Tenetehara and Canella (savannah Timbira) and Matteiros (forest Timbira) were brought in to Barra do Corda, and in 1900 there [ were 58 Indian boys in the Institute. But the Capuchins, pressured by local Brazilians (who frightened the Indians by telling them that if their children studied at the Institute they would eventually be drafted by the army), and to avoid a recent decree that prohibited them from ministering the catechism in the public schools, decided to set up another ' mission in Indian territory to protect the Indians from the influence of these "masons." So the missionaries bought, with financial help from the provincial government, 36 square kilometers of land near several Tenetehara villages. The Alto Alegre mission was founded in 1897 to lodge Indians of over 14 years of age. All of them were Tenetehara and the majority seemed to have been actually younger than the prescribed age. At first there were two Capuchin friars and a lay brother in charge; and after 1897, five to seven Capuchin sisters joined the staff in Alto Alegre. The population of the mission consisted of both Tenetehara and 3 Brazilians in numbers that shifted periodically from 70 to 150 people. In the beginning there was some difficulty in attracting Indian villages to move near Alto Alegre but soon three Tenetehara villages and apparently one of Matteiro Indians had been persuaded to settle nearby. The Caphuchins thought that to civilize the Indians they had to "dismember the Indian villages and reduce them into family groups." In fact, the sacrament of baptism, or any other sacrament, was not to be administered to any Indians for whom "there was not moral assurance that they would 3 The Capuchin' friars considered these Brazilians "Christians, but little' better than the Indians" (" christiani , poco neglionri dei cabocli ").

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Ill no longer live in their villages." Any Indian wishing to leave Alto Alegre would have to have the permission of the friars or else incure their punishment. The friars were against polygyny as well as against marriage not blessed by the Catholic ritual, which custom they viewed as "scandalous." Scandalous, too, in the eyes of these Lombardian friars, was the Indian custom of spending ^l^JioUljnUeriJn Je^^^^ („^p,^.^ entire nights, partying, dancing, and singing"). To supervise the Indians in their everyday life, the friars had a network of informants, most of them Brazilians living in the mission. There was also supervision of the young Indians in the institutes of Barra do Carda and Alto Alegre. These institutes had regulations and a schedule reminiscent of the Jesuit mission system. At 5:30 in the morning the students were to wake up and wash up; at 6:00 they attended Mass and then ate breakfast; at 7:00 they went to work; at 9:30 they had class; at 11:15 they had lunch and then recreation; at 13:00 they went back to the classroom; at 14:00 they had a light meal and then went back to work; at 17:30 they watered (the plants or garden vegetables), swept and filled water containers; at 18:00 they had supper and rested; at 20:30 they had night prayer and afterwards they went to bed. Corporal punishment should be applied after the third consecutive offense. Finally, the students who applied themselves diligently to school and scored good grades in their examination before the principal and the local judge were to be rewarded with money. But once again, as with the Jesuit system, this money would be kept by the friars until the rewardees graduated from the school . • The Capuchin system seemed to be all too anachronistic for it to be necessary to elaborate on why it could not civilize the Indians. Their

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112 economic organization, however, seemed to have worked for they built a sugar mill and hired a shoemaker and a smith to reside permanently in Alto Alegre. There is no mention in their records of paying the Indians for work in sugar cane fields or for any other tasks. The economic success of Alto Alegre was one of the main causes of the disruption of it in 1901, for it attracted the "envy" of the local landowners who felt threatened by the drainage of peasants and Indians who were moving into Alto Alegre and possibly also the "envy" of the storeowners and citizens of Barra do Corda and GrajaG who may have felt that Alto Alegre was challenging the predominance of these towns over the economic life of the region. The Capuchins themselves also accused these people of being masons, protestant sympathizers, and anti-Catholic (cf. Nembro 1955:40-42). At any rate, through envy or hatred, it is clear that the local Brazilians instigated the Tenetehara to destroy Alto Alegre. An epidemic outbreak in January, 1900, which killed at least 28 out of the 82 Indian boys living in Alto Alegre caused considerable tension between the Indians and the friars. In addition, the imprisonment of an important Indian, precipitated the crisis. The Indian, called Joao Cabore, spent four weeks inside a room chained " ora pelos bragos, ora pelos pes, ora pelo pescogo" ("sometimes by his arms, other times by his feet, and still other times by his neck") because he committed the offenseagainst the injunction of the friars-of abandoning his religiously-wed wife (Brazilian?) for an Indian woman. The friars' network of informants warned them against an impending attack by the Tenetehara, but they did not believe it. So, on April 13, 1901, Joao Cabore accompanied by 34 other family heads and probably many more younger, men, came to Alto

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113 , ATegre in the early morning at Mass time, and killed everyone there, / friars, sisters, and Brazilians, perhaps as many as 200 people as was charged later. One woman escaped and warned the people of Barra do Corda. The incident is known in the region as the "massacre of Alto Alegre." The Tenetehara simply call it "the time of the Alto Alegre." How Joao Cobare and Manuel Justino, the two Tenetehara who were charged by the Brazilians as leaders of the massacre, organized so many Tenetehara and planned the attack is not clear. The Arguivo da Curia has a record of the judicial prosecution of the Tenetehara, and it names 34 men and six village areas as being involved in it. It is very possible that all the villages of the region between the upper Mearim and the .upper Grajau Rivers and even the villages of the upper Zutiua River were involved in it. Tenetehara informants have told me that some family heads (particularly their own ancestors) did not participate, but this • may simply be a statement of self-protection since there is still some apprehension about talking about the Alto Alegre. They have told me that Joao Cabore (whom they call Kawire) actually went from village to village inviting people to get involved in his plans. Those who showed reluctance feared for their lives and fled from their villages. As the Arquivo records that Cabore went to Sao Luis in November-December, 1900, for unknown reasons (Tenetehara say he went to plead with the state authorities to stop the Capuchins from taking away their children), it is clear that the actual planning for the attack was carried out at most in four months ' time. Among the cited names of the 34 culprits in the Arquivo, three of them have the surname "Gaviao," which means "hawk." To my knowledge, there have been no such surnames, or any surname of birds, ever given to

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114 Tenetehara men. Furthermore, as these three men were from a village called "Pau-Ferrado"--a name never mentioned by Tenetehara to me as having been a village of their own--which is now a Brazilian town located in former Apanyekra (Timbira) territory (William Crocker, personal communication), I believe these men were actually Timbira Indians. A Tenetehara informant has also, without receiving a request for confirmation, told me that Timbira Indians were involved in it, too. There is no reason to doubt that, since their children were also brought in to Barra do Corda, and some of them are reported in the Arquivo to have died of tetanus and the epidemics of 1900. What the involvement of a few Timbira men means here is that this planned attack did not rise out a nativistic or revival istic movement, as one might expect among an ehtnic group like the Tenetehara living in social conditions of potential disruption to their society. These Timbira and the Tenetehara were in the same boat, so to speak, but they shared no common culture or symbols to unite them in the fashion of a nativistic movement. The so-called "War of the Castes" between the Yucatan Maya and the local Mexicans in the 1840s, a war that was organized on the intervillage level, resembles on a grander scale the Tenetehara attack. But it was spurred on by the "Speaking Cross" in a nativistic movement (Reed 1964). Tenetehara informants have never alluded to me of any signs of nativism at that time, and only much later in the 1950s do we find the Tenetehara trying to work out a potential nativistic ideology. In sum, although this question deserves more attention, I shall leave it open here. What should be stressed is the point that even a society as loosely organized as the Tenetehara can find ways to crystallize itself in a

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115 single bloc for temporary and emergency situations. After the Tenetehara killed the inhabitants of Alto Alegre they stayed there and fought two police attacks from Barra do Corda before they were routed out by a force of 70 soldiers coming from Barra do Corda, one militia unit from Grajau, and above all, 40 Canella Indians who had been recruited to fight them. The Canella Indians, who, according to William Crocker (personal communication), had no previous history of fighting the Tenetehara, since they lived too far away from the Tenetehara, were actually the ones who broke the Tenetehara siege. An unrecorded number of Tenetehara, Brazilians, and Canella were killed in this confrontation. Several Tenetehara were captured after they dispersed from Alto Alegre, including Manuel Justino viho. was killed when brought to Barra do Corda in an alleged attempt to escape, and Joao Cabore who was jailed, interrogated, and condemned to the maximum penalty of life imprisonment in Barra do Corda. However, he died in jail in November of the same year. Cabore' s deposition before his interrogators illustrates a characteristic attitude Of the Tenetehara toward Brazilians who accuse them of some malfeasance. He denied any participation in the killings, but admitted being present in Alto Alegre on that fateful morning when he had, by coincidence, gone to the nearby lake to take a bath. The dispersal of the Tenetehara is considered by them as a veritable exodus. Mothers are said to have smothered their crying babies to death if they were near the persecuting soldiers. They suffered starvation and when they came to a Brazilian farm to beg for food, they were simply killed. The Arquivo and a Tenetehara informant report that some wandering bands plundered some farms, particularly, in my informant's version, those farms that had young Tenetehara among their retinue of servants. Local

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116 lore says that a Tenetehara band took along from Alto Alegre a young Brazilian girl named Perpetua who, on the way to the forest of the Pindare, kept carving on trees: "Prepretinha [little Perpetua] came through here." The Tenetehara confirm this story in these very terms but I suspect that they are simply repeating what they have heard from Brazilians. The dispersal of the Tenetehara was massive. Apparently none of the previous villages stayed in the same place. The majority of them seemed to have moved to the middle Grajau River where as late as 1924 there are reports of "wild" uncontacted Tenetehara (Snethlage 1931). Another group moved beyond the upper Zutuia River and even as far as the Gurupi River. And the rest scattered about, some bands going to hidden areas away from the rivers, and others even into the savannah area, a rare case for a forest tribe. Needless to say this lasted only a few months. One of these bands that ventured into the savannah later moved into an area between the upper Mearim and its tributary the Enjeitado Creek. This area is now called Bacurizinho for a village founded there in 1950. We shall hear 'more about it because that is where half of my fieldwork time was spent. The mutual animosity between Brazilians and Tenetehara after Alto Alegre was, in view of the gravity of this event, rather short-lived. In fact, soon after the dispersal at least one Brazilian landowner lent ' a helping hand to a group of Tenetehara and took them to an estate of his own near the Gurupi River. This group had been part of a village that was located on one of his estates and relations between them had been rather warm, as far as patron-client relationships go. There is little point in arguing that he was simply trying to get rid of these people; in fact, it is rumored that this landowner was one of the principal

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117 instigators of the Tenetehara attack on Alto Alegre. In any event, apparently his motives were good for he gave some education to some of the young boys of this group. Two of them, brothers who were probably . his natural children, took this man's surname for themselves and later became well-known in the region as intelligent and articulate Tenetehara and protectors of their village's interests against neighboring Brazilians. Their sons have continued in their fathers' footsteps. So brief was the animosity between Tenetehara and Brazilians that within five year's time most of the Tenetehara who had fled returned to the very same places. When E. Snethlage visited this region in 1924, he calculated the Tenetehara population living between the Mearim and Grajau Rivers at between 750 and 800 people. Three of the twelve to fifteen reported villages, however, were located further down the Grajau River so there were some nine Tenetehara villages in comparison with eighteen or more of the pre-Alto Alegre time in the same region. S. Frees de Abreu (1931:105) who surveyed this region in 1928, confirms Snethlage's report. This population has continued to grow despite the loss of much of their former territory and the continuing epidemics of measles and smallpox, and now numbers over 2,000 people or half the total Tenetehara population. What were the real consequences of the Alto Alegre if, as seems to be the case, things had returned to normal in such a short time? The most important one was that the Alto Alegre temporarily halted a process of acculturation-translated here in terms of Tenetehara peasantization and loss of land-which was on the increase as more and more Brazilian peasants were immigrating into the region and dispossessing the Tenetehara with impunity. The Great Drought of 1877-1880 in the Northeast

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118 brought many peasants not only to this region but also to the lower Pindare River region (cf. Cunnif 1970:259, 266). Modern Tenetehara have a standardized way of explaining how the Brazilians of those times dispossessed them of their land and their women by guile and the trick of .offering some tobacco, a little salt, and a few other trinkets for these precious goods. Most of the Brazilian genes found in the Tenetehara gene pool-which seems quite mixed-apparently dates back to the nineteenth century, to the times of a 70 year old person's mother and grandmother. Coupled with the inevitable animosity or, at the very least, suspicion of the Brazilians and their covetousness , this temporary halt allowed the formation of an ideology of a common cause, a united front, us against Brazilians. This is not to say, of course, that in opposition to Brazilians and other Indian tribes, the Tenetehara did not feel a bond of sharing a culture before the Alto Alegre. They certainly did, as the Alto Alegre proves, but not to the extent that this identification precluded a particular family from cutting off relations with their fellow villagers to align themselves with a Brazilian landowner or peasant of medium sized holdings for economic as well as social reasons. The Alto Alegre did away with alignment with Brazilians for social reasons. . ' To put it in other terms, no longer did Tenetehara families feel that they would profit socially (in terms of lifestyle) by living with Brazilians. This realization-actually a conscious realization during at least the first 20 years of this century-was an important step toward preventing the breaking up of villages into independent families and thus slowing down the process of acculturation. For it is a characteristic of Tenetehara social organization that rivalry between families (even nuclear families within a "weak" extended family) generally

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119 culminates in the exit of one rival to another place. Now that they were unwilling to become Brazilians, new social ways came about to minimi: village splits (not inter-family quarrels). Or, if the village split, at least the exiting family(ies) moved to another Tenetehara village or a new place near one and not to a Brazilian settlement. Without social reasons for acculturation, economic reasons could not be as important anymore. Indeed, except for cattle raising there is nothing among the Brazilian local peasantry that the Tenetehara living in their villages cannot do. Their land is as fertile as the peasants ' , th^ir crops and the slash-and-burn techniques of cultivation are the same. Their respective modes of production and consequently their levels of productivity are different, of course, because of the different social divisions of labor and their different cultural incentives. The Brazilian peasants are more productive and generally have more manufactured goods than the Tenetehara. The Tenetehara can only increase their productivity by restructuring their production units of labor, but this is only possible in times of economic booms of goods which they can produce. Hence their desire for manufactured goods is not fulfilled to the extent that the peasants' desires are, which makes the peasant way of life somewhat alluring for an ambitious Tenetehara man. On the other hand, the social conditions of the peasant, the small peasant living on the land of a landowner, sharing the fruits of his labor with his patron, are rather demeaning and inferior to life in a village and the sole ownership of one's labor's products. The Tenetehara are conscious of this social advantage, while the Brazilian peasant clings to the illusion of his superiority through his claim to civilization, his flea-infested wattle-and-daub houses, and his Christianity.

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120 These considerations are present nowadays among the Tenetehara and I believe they were first articulated after Alto Alegre, as I detect from the accounts of old informants about the early years of this century. The Tenetehara, however, never cut off relations with Brazilians, with the exception of a few villages which remained in isolation up until the 1920s (Snethlage 1931). Since at least the middle of the nineteenth century (Plagge 1857; Dodt 1939) the Tenetehara had acquired the need for iron implements such as machetes and axes, and whenever possible, of muzzle-loading guns, gun powder and shot, and clothes. But these last three commodities had been hard to obtain because of their high prices and small supply. This was particularly so in the upper Mearim River region where there was no extractive product that was of trade value and where only agricultural products, notably cotton, rice, and manioc, had worthwhile trade value. Although it is a region which had some cattle since it is on the fringes of the savannah zone, the Tenetehara seem to have had no desire to modify their mode of production to include cattle raising. Moreover, the upper Mearim River region (or rather the ' Grajau-Barra do Corda region) had very poor infrastructure to foment development and trade. The Mearim River had been cleared of obstacles to motor launches since the 1860s. In 1897 it took 15 days to travel to Barra do Corda from Sao Luis (Arquivo da Curia 1894-1901). One bad, unkempt road connected Barra do Corda to Caxias, the entrepot of cotton and cattle business, in 1858, but in 1870 it needed repair (Marques 1970:106, 191). Worse still was the situation of GrajaC which was connected to Barra do Corda by a road but to other towns such as Carolina to the west on the Jocantins River, and settlements to the south, only by cattle trails. In fact, its easiest means of access to Sao Lufs was

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121 via a cattle trail, the famous "estrada do sertao" ("hinterland road") opened in 1863 (Marques 1970:180), which went from Carolina to Moncao first along the Buriticupu River, later (probab.ly in the 1910s when a telegraph line linked Grajau to Moncao) along the Zutiua River. The Grajau River is a shallow river, passable in the dry season only by canoes pushed by the paddling crew. This was very tough work and was ' actually routinized around 1920. By then, apparently the Grajau-Barra do Corda region was experiencing enough economic impet^js to warrant the appearance of canoes on the Grajau River. In any event, it is clear that up until the 1920s the economy of the region was quite sluggish. This actually helped the Tenetehara regain their abandoned lands since the Brazilians did not capitalize on this temporary vacancy. Before the 1920s the only items of trade value ' to the Tenetehara were cotton and manioc and some babagu nuts which were beginning to be sought in trade (Snethlage 1931). Cultivation of cotton and manioc was aboriginal among the Tenetehara and they found no difficulty in increasing production for trade purposes. By the 1920s they were engaged in this trade as Snethlage (1931) and Abreu (1931:115) witnessed. Abreu (1931:115) lists also the trade of wild skins and some lumber among the upper Mearim River villages, and Snethlage (1931) lists babacu nut production where babacu trees are found in groves, apparently on the Grajau River. The Gurupi and Pindare Regions To conclude our description of the period of patron-client relation-' ships, however, we must takeafinal look at what was happening on the Pindare

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122 and Gurupi Rivers/ Through the last quarter of the nineteenth century the Tenetehara of the upper Pindare and Gurupi Rivers became engaged in the trade of copatba oil, while those living near Pindare-Mirim were engaged in the trade of manioc and other food staples. This town had grown out of the Sao Pedro colony as it attracted Brazilian peasants coming from other states. After the Great Drought of 1877-1880, as already mentioned, the provincial government had set up a new colony there for the immigrants. In 1888 a modern sugar mill was installed nearby and the town seemed to have progressed enough to be connected to SSo Lufs by a railroad. However, by 1915 the mill had been closed and the area was "in decadence" (Lopex 1970:136). During this brief period of economic growth many Brazilians had moved into Pindare-Mirim and even up the Pindare River where two small settlements were founded. These settlements had. been founded not only to obtain copaiba oil directly from the Tenetehara but also to produce agricultural goods to sell in Pindare-Mirim. Apparently the decadence of Pindare-Mirim put an end to the demand for agricultural goods, and copafba oil was not enough to keep these settlements going. As in the upper Mearim River region this period brought a great deal of racial intermixture. Brazilians moved in with Tenetehara on friendly terms and even in permanent arrangements. A few of Wagley and Galvao's informants in 1941-45 said that their fathers were " cearenses " (Brazilians from the State of Ceara which was hard hit by the Great 4 It should be stated here that the region of the Zutiua River-which became progressively populated by Tenetehara throughout the nineteenth century-is divided up, in terms of trade economies and relations to Brazilian towns, into the lower Zutiua which is part of the Pindare Tu^^^onn"^ relates to the towns on the lower Pindare River (Moncao until the 1880s, and Pindare-Mirim afterwards), and the upper Zutiua which is part of the Grajau-Barra do Corda region and relates to these towns and the town of Amarante after the 1920s.

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123 Drought) who had married Tenetehara women and had actually become important men in the trade economy (Wagley 1942). In 1918 a Tenetehara village on the lower Pindare River was attacked by the Urubu-Kaapor and, according to one informant, many Tenetehara families left this area for the lower Grajau River. But soon the area was repopulated. In any event, we find the Pindare Tenetehara already in close contact with Brazilians and permanently engaged in the trade economy. The fact that there was not an Alto Alegre in the region left the Tenetehara with little chance to create a posture of ethnic identification equivalent to the one developed among the Grajau-Barra do Corda Tenetehara. The economic stagnation of the region, in the period from about 1915 to / 1935 gave them a certain respite from total involvement, but it was not of the kind to provide them with a reflection toward more cautious relations. Eventually this region began to be more populated and when Wagley and Galvao visited them in 1942 and 1945 there was apparently a favorable feeling for Brazilian ways, an explicit and outward attitude to negate their Indian ethnicity. This feeling, the Brazilian population increase, and the permanent economic relations were the reasons, in my opinion, which caused Wagley and Galvao to predict the final assimilation of the Tenetehara within the time span of a generation or two. As it turned out, they were to a large extent correct in this prediction but only for the Pindare Tenetehara, not Tenetehara society in general. In 1975 there remained two Tenetehara villages with about 80 people on the upper Pindare and one main village and a few hamlets in a small area of the lower Pindare River with a total population of about 230 people. In 1942 there had been close to 1,000 Tenetehara in the Pindare region.

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124 On the Gurupi River the tembe-Tenetehara , with a population of about 2.500 people in 1872, as already mentioned, seemed to have been in a situation of such intense economic transaction and miscegenation that their numbers progressively declined to less than 300 in 1943 (SPI 1943: 10, 47) and no more than 100 in 1975. The Gurupi River was much visited by canoe traders in search of copaiba oil as well as by gold miners during this last part of the patron-client period. There were no Brazilian towns close to Tenetehara village areas. The towns of Vizeu and Gurupi are located far down on the lower Gurupi River, and Carolina and Imperatriz on the Tocantins River. This made it necessary for canoe traders to live a great part of the year among the Indians. Brusque (1862:13-14) reports that some Canoe traders actually were in control of Tembe-Tenetehara villages. He also reports one incident in which seven Tembe men killed several canoe traders who had stolen some married women and beaten other Indians. But the^ canoe traders had taken revenge by burning the village and taking away seven Tembe children to live among the Brazilians down river in Vizeu. In addition to the 2,500 Tembe, 300 to 400 Amanajos Indians and 400 to 500 Timbira Indians, according to Dodt (1939:172-175), were living in the Gurupi River region. All these groups were in contact with canoe traders and apparently there was little animosity between them. Earlier in 1862, Brusque (1862:16) reports that in one Timbira village the headman was actually a Tembe man. Apparently this Timbira group had arrived on the Gurupi many years ago from the Turi-Pindare region. Another Timbira group, called Carajes (actually Kr~eye) had arrived recently from the Tocantins River region, whence they had had to flee from an imminent attack by local Brazilians (Dodt 1939:175).

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125 It is interesting to note that the Gurupi region where the Tembe live was not at all populated by Brazilians. Thus there was no intensive agricultural production or Brazilian immigration as on the Pindare. This fact makes it hard to explain the Tembe depopulation through this period. As a tentative explanation I argue that the lack of Brazilian towns in the vicinity, the brutal control of the canoe traders, and probably gold miners as well, were important reasons, as effective as the density of Brazilian population, for this depopulation. In addition, there were the aggressive Urubu-Kaapor Indians with their famous iron-tipped arrows who by 1872 were attacking Tembe villages and canoe travellers on the Gurupi River (Dodt 1939:176). The Tembe certainly were no longer a match against them, and consequently this increased the acculturation factor by making Tembe villages and families seek protection from them near Brazilian settlements in Para. Nowadays, the Tembe of the Gurupi River number only about 50 people, while there are barely fifteen Timbira. There is an Indian Post on the Gurupi but it caters more to the 100 or so Urubu-Kaapor than the other groups. In the State of Para there is another Indian Post near the town of Capitao Pogo on the Guama River where there are a few Tembe; A reservation for the Tembe exists on the Para side of the Gurupi River, but recently a great part of it was sold or granted to the American Swift Company for the raising of cattle. The Tembe-Tenetehara of the Gurupi River region are so few that I shall not include them in the analysis that follows.

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CHAPTER VI THE TWENTIETH CENTURY AND THE ROLE OF THE SPI/FUNAI In the preceding chapter I discussed the patron-client relationship in terms of the effects it had on Tenetehara population change and assimilation into the national society. I contrasted two main regions of Tenetehara settlements in Maranhao, the Pindare River region and the Grajau-Barra do Corda regionj in terms of the circumstances that led to population decline or ethnic entrenchment and population growth. It should be made clear here that the division between the Pindare and the Grajau Tenetehara is an empirical reality, not just a descriptive construct. The difference between these two areas lies in the different kinds of inter-ethnic relations which are based upon the kinds of trade economies that prevail in each area, as well as on the event of Alto Alegre. Moreover, there is a certain consciousness among Tenetehara of each area of being either from the Pindare or the Grajau region. This consciousness, of course, is translated in terms of direct contact, kinship ties, personal knowledge of individuals of their own particular region, and the kinds of relationships which each region has with Brazilians. This is also recognized by the SPI/FUNAI as the history of the creation of Indian Posts indicates. The Tenetehara Indians within each of these regions have permanent contact with one another, either. because of physical proximity, kinship ""Henceforth for the purposes of brevity I shall refer to this region simply as the Grajau region. 126

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127 ties, or accidental encounter in the Brazilian towns of their region. Almost all Tenetehara of the GrajaG region visit GrajaG or Barra do Corda each year for economic purposes and those of the Pindare region visit Santa InSs, Pindare-Mirim or ColSnia Pimentel for similar reasons. A Tenetehara from any of the present-day 35 or so villages of the GrajaG region is able, either through personal knowledge or hearsay, to identify a Tenetehara (and to varying degrees his kin group) from another village in the same region. The same is true for the Pindare Tenetehara with their five or six villages; this was also reported by Wagley and GalvSo (1949:15) in the 1940s when there were about ten villages in the region. On the other hand, it is much more difficult for a Tenetehara of the Grajau region to identify a Tenetehara from Pindare, unless he originally came from that region, has close relatives there, or has visited with the people there. The Pindare-GrajaG division, however, does not in any form, social, cultural, or political, make each region a discrete cultural or ethnic unit. The social behavior and cultural symbols which identify the Tenetehara as a people and as an ethnic group are present in both regions, with minor variations. The Tenetehara everywhere recognize themselves as a people, to put it in Wagley and Galvao's terms (1949:15), and in turn are ubiquotously seen as such by Brazilians. It is interesting to note that the Tenetehara of the Grajau region live in two kinds of environment: the Amazon tropical rain forest environment which extends across the Pindare River along the Zutiua River and to the GrajaJ River as far south as th^ town of GrajaJ; and the transitional forest environment which begins as the tropical forest ends and extends along the upper Mearim River (see Figure 3). In the first

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128 environmental zone live not only the Pindare Tenetehara but also the Grajau Tenetehara of the Arariboia reservation located on the upper Zutiua River. ^ In the second environmental zone are located the reservations of Bacurizinho and Guajajara. This environmental zone which was populated in the latter half of the nineteenth century has the largest concentration of Tenetehara today, over 2,500 of them (See Table I, page 138). Clearly then, the Tenetehara have been able to adapt to this new environment without having to modify their culture to any distinguishable degree. That the Tenetehara culture of the transitional forest environment did not become different from that of the tropical rain forest has to do with the fact that the new environment was not different enough to require significant culture change. Those changes that did take place are restricted to techniques of production which however did not affect the basic patterns of Tenetehara production units, and therefore their total mode of production, Both the rain forest and the transitional forest environments have the same seasonal cycle, the same kinds of fauna with probably comparable population densities, and generally the same kinds of flora which are utilitized by the Tenetehara. , On the other hand, rain precipitation is higher, and the fish population and the quality of soil in general are more productive in the tropical forest. Consequently there are potentially more available recources and, because of soil quality, less of a fallow period for the recurrent utilization of garden lands by the slash-and-burn method in the tropical forest. As the Tenetehara moved into the transitional forest environment they therefore had to find complementary sources of protein and more lands in order to plant gardens-or else control their ratio of population growth. That their population has increased to a higher degree than in the tropical rain forest proves that they found

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129 ways to make up for these lesser resource potentials. The Tenetehara of the transitional forest prefer to make gardens in low areas, called baixoes in Portuguese, which are both more fertile than other lands in the transitional forest environment and retain some moisture throughout the dry season (for manioc plants which are cultivated all year round) because the water table remains relatively high. Whereas in the rain forest the Tenetehara prefer to make gardens above the flood level of the rivers and in areas which have good drainage. These different techniques in soil utilization balance out in terms of productivity. The size of gardens reported by Wagley and Galvao (1949:44-45) for the Pindare Tenetehara correspond to the size of gardens I found in Grajau, i.e., between two to five linhas (about 2,500 square meters each), according to size of family and economic incentive (from the trade economy) Insteadof the abundant fish resources of the Pindare, the transitional forest Tenetehara have complemented their protein needs with a more efficient way of hunting namely the technique of espera or tocaia . In an espera (literally a "wait") a hunter hangs his hammock on the branches of a tree at night and waits for the deer, wild pigs, tapirs, and agoutis to come to eat the fruits and flowers of nearby trees or to drink from the few waterholes in the dry season. In this way the Tenetehara can secure a greater amount of game in the dry season (June to December). This meat is more or less equivalent in nutritional terms to the amount of fish the rain forest Tenetehara catch in the same season. In the rainy season the Tenetehara of the transitional forest hunt by stalking the game, a technique which is less productive than that of driving game to high, unflooded areas, or "islands," used by the rain forest Tenetehara (cf. Wagley and GalvSo 1949:57). However, during this season the

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130 transitional forest Tenetehara hunt wild forest fowl (jacus and jacutingas ) that migrate south from the rain forest. Beginning in April comes the season of abundant agricultural products. Thus, the basic mode of production of the Tenetehara, particularly the way the production units are organized, have not changed as a result of expansion to the transitional forest environment. Production by nuclear family and extended family groups are present in both environments, the predominance of one or the other being a matter of the intensity of the demands of the trade economy. Consequently, the mode of production being the same, the social organization of the Tenetehara remains the same in both the rain forest and the transitional forest environments. The " • principal items that are necessary to Tenetehara material and symbolic culture, such as manioc flour, game meat, honey, cotton, tobacco, etc., are obtainable in both environments. The difference that exist among and between the Tenetehara of the Bacurizinho and Guajajara reservations of the transitional forest and the Tenetehara of the AraribSia, Pindar^ and Gurupi reservations of the rain forest can be explained in terms of Tenetehara ethnohistory (i.e., the different patterns of interaction with the Brazilian society) and not by ecological adaptation. The Mediating Role of the SPI/FUNAI The Service de Protegao aos tndios (SPI) was founded in 1910 by an idealistic group of Brazilians who considered the Indian an important element in the formation of the national society. This group of Brazilian intellectuals were associated with a philosophy of Positivism, following the teachings of Auguste Comte. The SPI was an answer to the situation of the Kaingang Indians of Southern Brazil who were being exterminated

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131 by colonists moving into, the rich coffee lands of Sao Paulo and Parana in the first decade of the twentieth century. The basic raison d'etre of the SPI was to protect the Indian from the detrimental effects of the contact with the various segments of Brazilian society. Its ideology, couched in positivistic terms, was that given the protection provided by the SPI and a certain amount of secular education, the Indians would eventually evolve from their supposed stage of matriarchical organization and animistic religion to a contemporary Western type of society. One of its founders and the leader of the movement was Col. (later Marshall) Candido Mariano Rondon, who became the head of the SPI virtually until his death in 1957. In his lifetime and after his death Rondon became a national hero, a "father" to the Indians, with a national prestige and admiration that has been only partially matched by the prestige of the late medical doctor Noel Nutels and the Indian protectors ( indiqenistas ) Orlando and Claudio Vilas-Boas. The story of the creation of the SPI has been told by David Stauffer (1959-1960), and its development through 1960 has been assessed by Darcy Ribeiro (1962). Earlier in this dissertation, I have outlined the formal structure and policies of FUNAI, the organization which replaced the SPI in:i967 and today carries on its functions. In this Chapter it will be sufficient for us to assess the role of the SPI in regard to the Tenetehara. It' is my judgment that this role is one of mediation of TeneteharaBrazilian relations. In fact, the action of the SPI was the most important element determining the nature of these inter-ethnic relations in the twentieth century. This does not mean that the SPI has been able to dissolve direct contact, in the form of patron-client relationship, between Tenetehara

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132 and Brazilians, nor that the official power of the SPI has always been deferred to by local Brazilians in their relations with the Indians. Yet, the mere presence of the SPI has been an obstacle to the exploitative nature of Brazilian frontier society, and has provided the Indians with • an official means with which to counteract the unofficial demands and impositions of the Brazilians with whom they are in contact. Both Brazilians and Tenetehara are conscious of the presence of the SPI/FUNAI and its official power of mediation. The SPI/FUNAI has not been able to create a situation of equitability between Brazilians and Tenetehara for several reasons. First, its programs have been rather incoherent and both theoretically and practically unworkable. Second, its membership has always been made up exclusively of Brazilians with no participation by the Indians. Third, the SPI/FUNAI is an organ of the Brazilian government and therefore follows the dictates of its current policies which more often than not do not include the interest of the Indians. Fourth, many of the Brazilian administrators of SPI/FUNAI programs, the commissioners of the Regional Offices and the agents of Indian Posts have been incompetent and sometimes corrupt. Although there is and always has been an urgent need to overhaul the character and structure of the SPI/FUNAI, and thus to create a more Indian-oriented official Indian policy, the abolition of this organ seems inadmissable given the present situation of BrazilianIndian relations. In practical terms the most basic function of the SPI/FUNAI has been the attempt to protect Indian lands from Brazilian expropriation. The continuing ownership and control of land by the Indians has been recognized by everyone with knowledge of Indian problems as a sine qua non for Indian survival. A landless Indian soon becomes a peasant or a rural wage worker.

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133 He is no longer an effective member of an ethnic group even though he may still be described as one by virtue of his physical features or social demeanor. Conversely, a group of self-ascribed Indians who claim ownership of a piece of land by virtue of possession and legal rights are recognized effectively as an ethnic group, as Indians, by Brazilians, even though the group does not speak an aboriginal language, nor has a culture which differs from non-Indians, and consequently cannot be distinguished from local peasants. I have recorded one such case of a group of Indians who migrated from Ceara State in the 1950s and settled on the Pindare reservation near the Tenetehara. The Tenetehara called them "cearenses," but they could not deny their purported ethnicity. This ethnicity was manifested in the bare form of a clannish type of organization, in the popular sense, of the word. The 80-odd people in the group were lineally related to one old man who organized and directed the activities of the group. Their system of production, beliefs, and recreation were essentially like that of Brazilian peasants. They claimed to be Timbira Indians, which in this region meant simply that they were not Tenetehara, yet the only non-Portuguese words they could remember were Tupi words, like pako for banana and chiram for manioc flour. They had come from the Serra Grande, near the Serra do Ibiapaba, which historically has been the home of both Tupi (Tupinamba) and non-Tupi (Teremembes) Indians who were probably not of Timbira affiliation (cf. Metraux 1963b:573-574) . But in any case, they were "Indians" and actually were trying to be fully recognized as such by FUNAI by marrying their young women to Tenetehara men, instead of attracting young Brazilians to be part of their group, as they had done for the generation who was the scion of the old man. At the time of my visit to this group in November-December, 1975, no marriages

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134 men with Tenetehara had as yet taken place, but two young Tenetehara were courting several of the old man's marriageable granddaughters with his obvious approval. The SPI/FUNAI regulates the affairs of the Indians by virtue of a constitutionally granted right. THE SPI was an organ of the Ministry of Agriculture until 1967 when it was replaced by FUNAI, now an organ of the Ministry of Interior. As far as can be discerned no change of policy or views on the Indian have resulted from this change of ministries. The regulation of Indian affairs is juridically sanctioned by virtue of the fact that the Indians are considered minors and thus, wards of the State. This status is applied generically to all Indians regardless of the degree of acculturation to Brazilian ways and their inter-ethnic relations with the Brazilian society. As far as the Tenetehara are concerned, at this point in time, this status of minor has both advantages and disadvantages. Their legal position as minors protects them from Brazilian encroachment on their lands and also means that they cannot be punished directly by civilmilitary authorities for offenses against the state, such as public nuisanceand even theft and murder. These prerogatives are not, of course, followed strictly although they can always be claimed. But being minors precludes the Tenetehara from entering into official relations with credit agencies which nowadays are overshadowing the previous credit system of patron-clientship. Furthermore, the Tenetehara cannot vote in elections, something which could give them a certain leverage in the politics of the small towns near their areas. But the status of minor does not foreclose the participation of the Tenetehara in the welfare system, such as pensions for people over 65 years old, and medical care which is provided by the National Institute of Social Providence (INPS).

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135 Given these considerations let us proceed to see how the SPI/FUNAI related to the Tenetehara in practical terms. The presence of the SPI in Maranhao dates to 1911 when the Regional Office was established in Sao Luis (Ministerio de Agriculture 1913:19). By 1918 there was an Indian Post for the lower Pindare River region, serving the Tenetehara, the Timbira, the non-contacted Urubu-Kaapor and the Guaja. This Post and a nearby Tenetehara village were attacked by the Urubu-Kaapor in 1918. Because the records of the SPI were burned in a fire in the SPI headquarters in 1966 in Brasilia, there are very few reports left of those times. Therefore it is not possible to ascertain when the Pindare Post was re-established although we know of its existence from 1927 on. In the Grajau region, a Sub-Regional Office was created around 1920 in Barra do Corda to look after the interests of the Canella and Tenetehara. In 1923 this office had obtained a reservation of about 300,000 acres (865 square kilometers) of land between the Mearim River and its tributary the Corda River. There were six Tenetehara villages in this area. Seven other Tenetehara villages in the immediate vicinity were outside this reservation. The Sub-Regional Office apparently tried to move some of them onto the reservation but without any success (cf. Abreu 1931:119). This reservation area was legalized by the State Law of 25 April 1923. It was reconfirmed by the State Decree of 15 December 1936 as being comprised of 164,557 hectares or about 411,392 acres (cf, SPI 1942). Either more land was added to the reservation or, more likely, the 1936 figures are wrong because the FUNAI census of 1975 estimated the reservation to have 127,648 hectares, or about 300,000 acres, as in the A map of this area showing reservation limits is to be found in Abreu 1931.

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136 1923 figure. This reservation is now called Guajajara and presently comprises two Indian Posts, Guajajara and Cana Brava. The seven Tenetehara villages which were just outside the reservation in the 1920s have since moved into this area. By 1942, in addition to the Sub-Regional Office located in Barra do Corda to take care of the Tenetehara of the Guajajara reservation as well as the Canella Indians of Barra do Corda county, one more Indian Post, called Arariboia, had been founded for the Tenetehara living in the Grajati county. This county comprised then the Tenetehara areas which are now the Bacurizinho reservation on the upper Mearim River (above the Guajajara reservation) and the Arariboia reservation on the upper Zutiua River (see Figure 3 and Figure!). The Post itself was located on the upper Zutiua River, but the agent lived in Grajau. Later in the 1940s the Sub-Regional Office expanded to include two newly created Indian Posts, one for the Tenetehara of the Guajajara reservation and the other for the Ganella Indians. In the early 1970s the Guajajara Indian Post split into two, the other being the Cana Brava Indian Post. The Arariboia Indian Post which used to be supervised by the Indian agent in Grajau split into four: AraribSia, Anjico Torto and Canudal Indian Posts being located in the present reservation of Arariboia, and the Bacurizinho Indian Post located in the Bacurizinho reservation. Finally the Pindare Indian Post (then called Gonjalves Dias) split into two, the other being the Caru Indian Post located on the upper Pindarl River near the Caru River. The creation of these Posts seems to be a response both to the number of Tenetehara villages and population concentration in a particular area as well as the degree of isolation of certain Tenetehara village areas. Thus the Caru and Canudal Indian Posts, with populations numbering less than

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137 100 Tenetehara, were created because these areas were located far away from Brazilian towns and therefore were more susceptible to land invasion by Brazilian peasants without the knowledge of FUNAI. I he creation of reservations, however, follows a more haphazard plan. In addition to the Guajajara reservation originally made legal in 1923-36, plans were being made in 1942 to acquire land for the rest of the Tenetehara in the following ways: three villages were to have 52,272 hectares of land; two villages, 41,382; three villages, 85,282; and four villages, 121,968. Apparently these villages, which were neither named nor located in particular areas, were located in the general region of Grajau (SPI.1942). The same source for these plans states that plans were also being made to create a reservation for the Pindare region, which included the Tenetehara, Urubu-Kaapor , and Guaju Indians, whose area was calculated at 353,889 hectares (SPI 1942). Unfortunately these plans were not carried out in the 1940s. In fact, in 1948 the SPI paid a land engineer to once again delimit the Guajajara reservation area which they had obtained by the Decree of 1936. For this, new arrangements were made with local landowners who claimed to own portions of it, and new expenses accrued. Moreover, the engineer never finished his job, claiming at one point that he lacked the money with which to pay the workers. In the 1950s the SPI made new plans to set up reservation lands for the Tenetehara. Apparently the 1942 plans were dropped for we find no mention of them in the SPI report of 1959 (SPI 1959). In that year the SPI bought a piece of land between the Mearim River and its tributary Enjeitado Creek for Cr$100,000. 00 from a local landowner who claimed to own it even though the Tenetehara had been living there since the turn of

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138 the century.. X This area now comprises the Bacurizinho reservation. This same report states that there were plans to buy land for the Tenetehara of the lower Pindare River, and in 1962 this was indeed done; this is now the Pindarg reservation. In 1961 the Federal government decreed the establishment of a national park located between the Gurupi and Pindare Rivers; this is now the Gurupi reservation. Finally, the Arariboia reservation was created sometime in the late 1960s. ^^^'^^ ^= Tenetehara Reservations, Indian Posts, and Population Reservation Area Size (in hectares) Indian Posts Population Gurupi : (between Gurupi , Turi , and Pindare Rivers) 845,000 (Turiagu) Caninde Caru (UrubuKaapor and Guaja 40 Tembe 69 Arariboia : (between upper Zutiua and Buriticupu Rivers) 387,000 Arariboia AnjicQ Torto Canudal 592 662 9-9 Guajajara: (between Corda and Mearim Rivers, extending NW of latter) 127,648 Guajajara Cana Brava 831 869 Bacurizinho: (between Mearim River and Enjeitado Creek) 76,336 Bacurizinho 828 Pindar^: (on lower Pindare) 40,000 (estimate sic) Pindare 272 (formerly Gongalves Dias) Totals : 1 ,475,984 4,272 Source: Sixth Regional Office of FUNAI, Sao Lufs, 1975.

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139 / The problem of reservation lands for the Tenetehara, however, is far from solved. In fact, FUNAI, as of 1975, had not been able either to demarcate these lands (i.e., open a path along their borders) or to make them legal reservations (i.e., declare them Federal lands in the possession of the Tenetehara). These reservations are de jure federal lands under the jurisdiction of FUNAI. The Indians, therefore, have no right to sell or lease portions of it, which is, indeed, when we compare this with the case of the North American Indian reservations, an advantage for the preservation of Indian land. However, FUNAI can lease parts of these lands or the right to exploit certain of their natural resources without asking the Indians' permission. Moreover, FUNAI can, by federal decree or simply federal order, sell or transfer parts of these lands to private individuals or other federal agencies. This has happened in Maranhao to a portion of the Gurupi reservation inhabited by Urubu-Kaapor Indians which was transferred to SUDENE (a federal agency in charge of making programs to relieve the population pressure in the Northeast) for one of its colonizing projects. FUNAI had, therefore, to move the Urubu-Kaapor to another portion of the reservation, a task which involved persuading the Indians that there they would be better off and better assisted by FUNAI. In addition to the five reservation areas inhabited by the Tenetehara (and the Urubu-Kaapor and Guaja Indians), FUNAI had established one reservation each for the Canella Ramkokamekra , the Canella Apanyekra, the Krikati, and the Gavioes Indians. Of all these reservations only that of the Canella Ramkokamekra has been demarcated and legalized, even though the reservations of Bacurizinho and Pindare has legal documents of purchase from Brazilian landowners, and the reservations of Gurupi and Guajajara has legal documents of State and Federal decrees. Furthermore, the limits

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140 of all of these reservations, including Arariboia, even though they had ' been settled at one point, were being challenged legally by Brazilian landowners. More importantly, they were all being invaded to various ' degrees by Brazilian peasants. The worst situations were taking place in Pindare and Arariboia (particularly near the Anjico Torto Indian Post) where over 2,000 Brazilian peasants had recently moved into Indian lands to plant rice and manioc crops, and were threatening to settle permanently. I have already mentioned the friction between Brazilians and Tenetehara in Anjico Torto. The Tenetehara of the Pindare reservation were not taking matters into their own hands but were leaving them to be decided by FUNAI, although they were eager to help in the process of evacuating the invaders, as they did in October, 1975. The vast Gurupi reservation was by far the least densely populated even counting about 425 UrubuKaapor and perhaps 100-150 uncontacted Guaja'. Therefore, invasion was proceeding at a rapid pace, coming in on three fronts: from the Gurupi, the Turi, and the Pindar^ Rivers. Parts of the Bacurizinho reservation were being challenged by a landowner and by several peasant families who had bought land plots from a landowner who claimed to own large portions of the reservation area. The Guajajara and Pindare reservations had been divided into two parts by the recent construction of state highways, and that, too, was attracting invaders. The situation of the Guajajara reservation was even more problematic because part of it was located on lands of the Capuchin Alto Alegre mission and the town of Sao Pedro do Cacete. The Capuchins were willing to defer ownership of their 36 square ki lometers of land to FUNAI, as I found out in. a converstation with the secretary of the Monastery of Sao Carmo in Sao Luis, but FUNAI had not capitalized on that offer. The inhabitants of Sao Pedro do Cacete, however, were

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141 unwilling to move their town outside the reservation. As of the end of 1975 there were plans and projects to demarcate and legalize these reservation areas, but they had not been realized. The officials of the Sixth Regional Offices and the DGO (Department of General Operations) of FUNAI headquarters, were apparently not working as a team. The former were trying to evacuate the invaders by giving them time to move out on their own and compromising on the size of the reservation, whereas the DGO had plans of forcing the invaders out even though they were unaware of how many invaders there were and what parts of the reservations they occupied. The Tenetehara were impatient with the lack of concerted action from FUNAI, and this served only to increase the low esteem in which they held FUNAI. In addition to the function of protecting Indian lands, the SPI/FUNAI has the important function of taking care of the physical well being of the Indians, i.e., of seeing that the Indian population is not decimated by the ravages of European diseases. These protective measures have been carried out by means of immunization programs against such diseases as tuberculosis, small pox, measles, whooping cough, and diphtheria, as well as by treatment programs against tuberculosis, venereal disases, influenza, malaria, and the many varieties of diseases that attack the internal organs of an individual, particularly the stomach, intestines, liver, and kidneys. In their immunization program the SPI/FUNAI can claim a certain amount of success, particularly among the tribes of the Xingu Park and among such tribes as the Xavante, Bororo, Karaja, and others. Many other Indian groups, however, have not had this benefit, such as the Urubu-Kaapor who have suffered a population loss on the order of 70 per cent from their pre-contact population of about 1500 in 1927 to less than 450

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142 in 1975 (Ribeiro 1970:276; 1974:34; and personal data 1975). Other tribes have been effectively wiped out by such diseases before any such immunization was carried out (cf. Ribeiro 1970:Ch. 2). The treatment programs of SPI/FUNAI have been all but ineffective, because of the disjointed, incompetent infrastructure provided by the SPI/ FUNAI. The permanent, regional medical staff of the SPI/FUNAI (and here I should limit my references to FUNAI, since during the SPI period a' medical staff hardly existed) is composed of practical nurses ( enfermeiros ) residing in the Indian Posts, who are under the supervision of a part-time doctor and a dentist in the Regional Office. The doctor is informed by the practical nurse of the state of health of particular villages and serious individual cases. The physician is supposed to diagnose and prescribe treatment for the illness. In practice, however, the practical nurse does the diagnosing and treatment of most ill individuals, except in such cases when hospitalization is called for as in surgical operations, dementia, and prolonged infection of internal organs which the practical nurse has been unable to cure with the available antibiotics, dosages of vitamins, and other medicines. In the 1940s, the SPI began to provide some medical assistance to the Tenetehara both in the Grajau and Pindare regions. Until then the Tenetehara had had no medical assistance at all except for occasional help from a Brazilian doctor or nurse In the nearby towns. The Tenetehara of the Bacurizinho Indian Post told me of two major epidemics prior to the 1940s: one in the early 1910s which is described as measles and another in the early 1930s as smallpox. The latter epidemic is confirmed by the pock marks on the face and shoulders of some of the survivors whom I met. Both epidemics are spoken of as having had a devastating effect, killing

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143 children and adults alike. In 1929, Abreu (1931:111) visited the village of Bananal, located on the Bacurizinho reservation where there were several people suffering from tuberculosis and venereal diseases. It is possible that throughout the SPI period these latter diseases were in an endemic state in a great number of Tenetehara villages of the Grajau region. Wagley and Galvao, however, do not report such conditions in the villages of the Pindare region. In the late 1940s and early 1950s there were several measles epidemics on the Grajau and Pindare Rivers. In fact, a great cause of Tenetehara population loss in the Pindare seems to have been whooping cough and measles epidemics, according to several of my informants. The earliest medical assitance provided by the SPI in the 1940s was limited to treatment. Initially it consisted mainly in giving Tenetehara heads of family a few tablets (three to six, according to local SPI records in my possession) of anti-malarial medicine. The SPI practical nurse for the whole region of Grajau prescribed one tablet a day for an adult patient and one half tablet for a child. These tablets were provided by the National Anti-Malarial Service (SNCM) in conjunction with the SPI. In the 1950s an immunization program was set up against smallpox and tuberculosis, the latter through the BCG vaccine. These programs have been continued by FUNAI in a more consistent fashion. As far as FUNAI is concerned, smallpox has been eradicated among the Tenetehara. But a local report from the Bacurizinho Indian Post indicates suspicion of five cases of smallpox in 1973. The incidence of tuberculosis is considered of manageable proportion. Among a population of 800 Tenetehara of the Bacurizinho Post there were fourteen cases recorded in 1974 (six of which were in Bananal village) and only one of them has since died from it.

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144 Tuberculosis treatment is applied by the practical nurse and supervised by the FUNAI doctor, and it conforms to the plan used for Brazilians. The incidence of tuberculosis among the Tenetehara (roughly 1.5 percent as extrapolated from the data from the Bucurizinho Post) contrasts unfavorably with the percentage among the Brazilian population of .5 percent (Dr. Elisa S^, personal communication).' In 1974, out of a population of about 800 in Bacurizinho Post 152 were vaccinated against polio, 154 received the DPT vaccine (against diphtheria, tetanus, and whooping cough) and 145 against measles. The other Indian Posts probably carried out similar programs. In 1975, 26 people received injections of DPT and polio vaccine, but there were no records of whether these injections were applied to different people or were follow-up injections to people who had received the first dosage. In August 1975, almost every Tenetehara who made the trip to either Grajad, Amarante, or one of the three key villages where the medical crew of FUNAI decided to set up a temporary make-shift clinic, was vaccinated against meningitis as part of a nation-wide campaign. Yet, these programs cannot be said to be as thorough as they might be principally because the medical staff does not keep close records of who was vaccinated or who suffered a reaction from the vaccines. Diseases, therefore, remain a constant threat to the Tenetehara. In 1973, a time when it is to be expected that DPT vaccination programs had been initiated, there were epidemics of whooping cough in the villages of Bacurizinho and Ipu and at least eight people were reported to have died from it. Two adults are included here. It is clear, nevertheless, by the incidence of contraction and the rate of survival, that the Tenetehara have acquired a certain number of antibodies against these diseases of Old World

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145 origin which plague them (and the Brazilian population as well). However, it has not been possible to ascertain if the natural defenses acquired by the Tenetehara compare favorably with that of the rural Brazilian population. The medical treatment provided by FUNAI in recent years continues to be highly ineffective. Every Indian Post has a pharmacy stocked with medicine which is manufactured and provided gratis by the Brazilian government. This pharmacy and the practical nurse are expected to attend to the needs of the five or six villages, Or on the average of 500 Tenetehara, who live under the jurisdiction of the Post. Often, however, the practical nurse is missing either because of the frequent transfer of practical nurses from one Post to another which FUNAI makes for one reason or other, or because of the personal irresponsibility of practical nurses who take long vacations away from the Post to go to Brazilian towns. In addition, most practical nurses hardly ever visit all the villages in the Post area as he or she is supposed to do at least once a month. Therefore, a sick Tenetehara must come to the Indian Post or else send a relative to get medicine for him. The FUNAI doctor and dentist come at most twice a year to each Post and they spend no more than a couple of days in each. Their consultations, moreover, are intended only to prescribe a medication to cure a particular symptom, not as a check-up of one's state of health. In short, the knowledge of the state of health of individual Tenetehara is of the most rudimentary kind, as the FUNAI doctors give short, five minute consultations only to individuals who are suffering visibly from some disease. -The practical nurse diagnoses a physical complaint of a Tenetehara by the description which the patient or his proxy provides. The most

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146 common descriptions of illnesses lead to these kinds of diagnoses: anemia, cough, liver pains, dysentery, fever, rheumatism, gland inflammation intestinal parasites, headaches, colic, vomiting, and conjunctivities. He then prescribes treatment by following the directions on the label of the medicines which he has in the Post pharmacy. Thus if a patient complains of "weakness" the practical nurse gives Vitamin B in liquid or an iron compound; for cough, a potassium iodide is given along with a high dosage of an antibiotic; for dysentery, diarrhea, or stomach pains (or what the practical nurse diagnoses as amoeba) either " Kaopec " or "Iioxine" is given. I cannot, of course, evaluate with any expertise the effectiveness of these treatments, but I can say that administering 200,000 units of an antibiotic to a six month-old infant with a cold and runny nose--as I witnesses several times— hardly contributes to the overall health of the child. Perhaps a more reliable source of treatment to the Tenetehara is provided by a hospital in the town of Graja^. This hospital is funded by the Beretta family of Italy and is run by a Capuchin friar, known locally as Frei Alberto, who is himself a medical doctor. This hospital is a non-profit organization, and as such attends to the medical needs of everyone (Indians and poor Brazilians) who comes to it. It was founded in the late 1950s and since then the Tenetehara have come to rely on it .• and the friar-doctor for any type of emergency treatment. In fact, upon notice, Frei Alberto may send an ambulance to the Bacurizinho Post to transport a Tenetehara who is in need of medical attention. Usually such emergencies are those of difficult parturition, accidents with firearms, and such other cases of life and death when the time factor is important. Although recently FUNAI entered into an agreement with the hospital

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147 whereby the hospital can charge the expenses of treating a Tenetehara to FUNIA, no Tenetehara had ever been refused admittance and treatment because of lack of money previous to this agreement. , • This medical assistance has been carried further by Frei Alberto himself who visits the Bacurizinho Post every third Sunday of the month. Frei Alberto takes this occasion not only to briskly visit every house of the villages of Ipu and Bacurizinho and to distribute medicine, generally malaria pills, cough medicine, and antibiotics, but also to celebrate Mass in each of the small churches which he had built in the two named villages. The Tenetehara generally attend these Masses—although the pressure to do so comes only from a nun who accompanies Frei Alberto— and they speak of themselves accordingly as "Catholics." It should be stated that previous to the arrival of Frei Alberto, the Tenetehara of the Bacurizinho Post considered themselves "Protestants" because in the 1930s there was a Protestant missionary living among them. Other Tenetehara from villages not visited by Frei Alberto and even from villages where Protestant missionaries are working, are equally welcomed in the hospital. Despite the short time dedicated to the Tenetehara by Frei Alberto, the Tenetehara feel more secure in being his patients, than in being patients of the FUNAI medical team. Hence they esteem the friar for his assistance and good will, and their Catholicism is more a function of this relationship than of conviction. Among the Tenetehara Indians, as well as among Brazilians of almost all classes and backgrounds, there is a high degree of trust in pharmaceutical medicine. In fact, there is an assumption that antibiotics can cure everything and that application by injection is the most effective way of bringing about a cure. As an example, I was asked by two Tenetehara

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148 to provide them with penicillin injections to cure bruises which they suffered from a fall and from being hit by a falling tree. Moreover, it is felt that the more an injection or topical treatment hurts a patient, the more effective it is. The misuse, or I should say the fetishistic use, of medicine coupled with the symptomatic approach to pathological treatment whereby a particular disease is treated as a separate unit as if it were not part of a pathological syndrome, has, and can only, bring about partial cure and in some cases, detrimental results. I cannot evaluate the overall health conditions of the Tenetehara and the results of the FUNAI health program, but I can make two general' statements in this regard. First, the Tenetehara do not seem to be threatened by population decimation as resulting from epidemics, and when such an epidemic strikes, as the whooping cough epidemic of 1973 in Bacurizinho, they seem not to be massively affected by it. This is partly a function of their acquired immunity and partly a function of SPI/ FUNAI medical assistance. This relatively (i.e., in comparison with other Indian groups) lesser vulnerability to epidemics is attested by the population growth of the Tenetehara which has increased from about 3,000 people in the early 1950s (my own estimate based on local SPI records) to 4,300 people in 1975. Second, I made a statistical survey of 66 Tenetehara women in the villages of Ipu and Bacurizinho which shows with fair accuracy that the rate of survival of children born to them has not changed over the last forty years or so. Thus, FUNAI medical assistance has so far brought little or no amelioration to the high infant mortality rate of the Tenetehara. It is generally recognized that a low rate of infant mortality is one of the basic indicators of the health conditions of a population group.

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149 For the survey mentioned above, I divided the sample of 66 women ' into three categories: (1) women generally beyond child-bearing age (i.e., over forty years old); (2) women who already have had several children and are still within the child bearing age (i.e., between ages 31 and 40); and (3) women in their first 10 to 15 years of child-bearing capacity (i.e., between 15 and 30 years of age). Table 2: Infant Mortality Rate of Tenetehara Number of Women Number of Pregnancies Number of Infant Deaths Mortality Rate Category 1 17 157 48 303/1 ,000 Category 2 7 51 11 216/1 ,000 Category 3 42 170 48 282/1 ,000 Total 66 378 107 283/1,000 As Table 2 shows, women in category 1 have had an average of nine children each, of whom three died at age one or less; those of category 2 have had 7.3 children of whom 1.6 died; and the women in category 3 so far have had four children of whom 2.8 died in their infancy. These are, of course, high rates of infant mortality. This data does not show how many children survive to adulthood. However, further data shows that, on the average, one more child of the women in category 1 died before reaching puberty and one more died in early adulthood. Thus it can be concluded that out of nine children at least four reached adulthood. If we assume that out of these four young adults one more will die or otherwise not marry or bring up a

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150 family as Tenetehara, we will come up with a rate of growth of population reproducers in the order 2, 3, 4.5, 6.75 . . ., in short, a population growth that should at, least double every two generations or every 30 to 40 years. This is congruent with the comparative data of Tenetehara population statistics for 1942 (about 2,500, not 2,000 as Wagley and Galvgo estimated), 1953 (3,000), and 1975 (4,300). To be more precise, since these statistics include the Pindare region which has suffered a population loss (due not only to deaths but also to assimilation to the Brazilian society) from about 800 people in 1942 to about 340 in 1975 (Pindar^ and Caru Posts), we should compare the statistics for the villages of the Bacurizinho Post. In 1953 this Post had a population of about 500 people and today it has 820 people which shows a population growth on the order of 60 percent in 22 years. Thus it should double from the 1953 figure in nine to twelve more years, or by 1987. Of course if the health conditions of the Tenetehara are improved by FUNAI, and barring the dismemberment of Tenetehara society, this population will increase at a higher rate than has been the case in the past, unless methods of birth control are introduced. • To conclude, the SPI/FUNAl program of medical assistance to the Tenetehara has not been very successful; in fact it has been no more effective than the program of protecting Tenetehara lands. Yet, both programs have slowed down two trends which would probably have destroyed the Tenetehara had they continued through the last 30 years. However, these programs have neither neutralized these trends nor brought forth a positive development of the Tenetehara as an ethnic group. If these programs--which can Ije seen as promoting the basis for Tenetehara ethnic survival--have not been fully effective, neither has the

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151 program of economic incentives to develop Indian economy created by the SPI. T}^e idea behind providing certain means for the economic development of the Tenetehara is part of the ideology of the SPI/FUNAI which favors the ultimate integration of the Tenetehara into the "national community." This concept of integration, of course, is couched in terms of a gradual process in which the culture of the Tenetehara (and Brazilian Indians in general) should not be controlled or otherwise modified by SPI/ FUNAI. It should be made clear, however, that if the Tenetehara economy were to become entirely like the Brazilian peasant economy, substantial cultural changes would occur. Furthermore, if these changes were to destroy the subsistence economy of the Tenetehara they would eventually place the Tenetehara, like the peasant, under the control of the credit system of Brazilian society. This could only result in the disintegration of Tenetehara society and reduce them to a collection of peasant families. Under certain conditions, however, Tenetehara economic development will not ipso facto cause Tenetehara ethnic disintegration. These conditions will be outlined in the final chapter of this dissertation. ' The implementation of economic incentives for the Tenetehara must have been initiated in the very early years of SPI activity in MaranhSo, i.e., in the 1920s. . The first and most basic kind of such incentives was in the form of gifts of iron implements, such as axes, machetes, and sickles. Through such gifts the SPI established its function as the mediator between the Tenetehara and Brazilian society. In fact, the SPI came to think of itself as the "super patron" of the Indians. Part of this role of super patron was to protect the Tenetehara from economic exploitation by Brazilian traders. The officials of the SPI thought that the way to neutralize such exploitation was by obliging the Tenetehara

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152 to sell their products to Brazilians only indirectly, i.e., through the SPI Post agent. This way the Tenetehara could obtain better prices for their products than by selling directly to the traders (see Chapter VIII for an analysis of Tenetehara trade economic relations). The Tenetehara, however, saw things differently and as much as possible they continued to do business directly with Brazilian traders with impunity (cf. Wagley and Galvao 1949:62). t Axes and machetes were given to the Tenetehara of the Pindare region from the 1930s until the early 1960s. These gifts were distributed to individual heads of family, and gift giving was the way the Indian Post agents promoted obligations of patron-cl ientship with the Tenetehara. ' Although Wagley (1942) and Galvao (1945) witnessed such gift distribution in the early 1940s, it is from an Indian agent of the Grajau region in the early 1950s that I have obtained precise data on the amount of gifts and the social significances thereof. The Tenetehara of the Grajau region, too, began to receive gifts in the 1930s but probably in smaller amounts than those of Pindare. The economy of the Grajau region was rather precarious and the Sub-Regional Office located in Barra do Corda did not generate an income as did the Pindare Post in its role of economic broker. The SPI could only provide economic incentives in areas where there were reasons for it. But from the late 1940s on the Tenetehara of Grajau, particularly in the Bacurizinho area, began to improve their economic situation as the economy of the Grajau region began to expand. This expansion was brought about by the increase of the Brazilian population of the region through immigration and the contruction of roads connecting Grajau to Barra do Corda and thence to Caxias and Sao Lufs. There was an increase in demand for

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153 agricultural as well as extractive products, and the Tenetehara soon began to dedicate more of their time to produce such goods for trade. The Indian Post agent residing in the town of Grajau highly promoted these activities by extending credit to the Tenetehara of his jurisdiction. This agent was also instrumental in the creation of a lumber "industry" for the Tenetehara of the villages of Bacurizinho, Ipu, and Mangueira located in the Bacurizinho area. , ' In July 1953, at least 211 sets of axes, machetes, and sickles were distributed by the Grajau agent to the Tenetehara of the Bacurizinho area and the upper Zutiua area (Arariboia reservation). In addition, one manioc grater and one copper griddle for manioc processing were given to each of seven Tenetehara villages as well as to the Gavioes Indians' village. Such distribution continued in December 1954 with 48 machetes, 72 knives, and 24 axes and in March 1955, when 121 sets of machetes, ' axes, and sickles were distributed. After that the distribution of such goods was considerably curtailed, in 1957 it amount to only six machetes, five axes, two hoes, and one pick. The last distribution for which I have records comes from a report from the Pindare agent in 1963. The number of goods distributed is not specified which indicates that they were probably relatively few, for one thing, and that the agent distributed the available goods to people whom he liked or otherwise needed favors from. At least this is how the Tenetehara explained to me how Post agents allocated such few goods. At any rate, FUNAI has abandoned the practice of distributing tools and implements as a form of economic incentive. From 1953 to about 1955 the Tenetehara of the Bacurizinho area were persuaded by the Grajau agent to organize themselves into production units to cut hardwoods found in the area into lumber. They were provided'

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154 with two large hand saws and with cash or commodity credit by the agent. They were expected to cut and saw the lumber and to sell it to the GrajaJ agent who would then ship it to the SPI Regional Offices in Sao Luis. The details of this operation are found in Chapter VIII. Suffice it to say here that as long as it lasted it was a successful operation. In fact, it was the only operation of the kind in the whole region of Grajad and caused the envy of many local Brazilians. Several Tenetehara men of the Bacurizinho area became involved in the lumber industry and one of them was for awhile a kind of entrepreneur who organized the production groups and a credit system for the Tenetehara. However, he did not come to monopolize this production and several Tenetehara men continued to deal directly with the Indian agent. The lumber industry tapered off in 1957 when the agent was relocated to another town in Maranhao. In the final analysis, the main consequence of the lumber industry for the Tenetehara of the area was of a social rather than economic nature. During this minor "boom" several Tenetehara men accumulated considerable cash and consequently began to adopt certain Brazilian customs which required the expenditure of this cash. A few Tenetehara men learned how to play the accordion and Brazilian parties began to substitute for Tenetehara dancing and singing used in the girls' initiation rites. They also began to hunt exlusively with muzzle-loading guns and to dress in Brazilian clothes. These habits brought forth a permanent need for relating with Brazilians for economic purposes. In the upper Zutiua (Araribdia) area the Grajau agent became the principal promoter of the Tenetehara trade economy of forest products, particularly skins, copafba oil, cumaru nuts, and .iutaicica and iatoba resins. During the 1950s, these extractive forest products were in high

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155 demand by the Brazilian compradores in coastal towns and the Grajau agent organized several villages on the Zutiua and Grajau Rivers to reliably obtain these goods for him. Forest products and the lumber industry, therefore, brought the whole Grajau region into "high" productivity. The Grajau agent, as well as the Barra do Corda Sub-Regional Officer who also reorganized these economic activities on a smaller scale for the Tenetehara of his jurisdiction, were very important in enhancing the mediating role of the SPI in the minds of both Brazilians and Tenetehara. In the records of the Grajau agent, one often finds mention of problems between Tenetehara and Brazilians concerning land use, theft, economic exploitation, and fights. The agent seems consistently to have taken the side of the Tenetehara and often made threats of "judicial sanctions" against the Brazilians. It is fair to say that during the 1950s these two SPI officers, even though they did not settle the basic problem of land in a conclusive manner, were responsible for the fact that the Tenetehara of the region did not suffer persecution either personal or as a group by Brazilians, nor did they have Tenetehara lands taken away from them. The economic incentive program of the SPI in the Pindarg region] however, brought disastrous consequences to the Tenetehara. In the late 1930s and 1940s this program was in the form of gift distribution, including here gifts of canoes with which the Tenetehara of the upper Pindare River would bring their products down river to the Post, or more often, to the towns of Pindare-Mirim and the burgeoning settlement of Santa Ines and the settlement of Colonia Pimental. The increasing population density of Brazilians in the region brought unmitigating pressure upon Tenetehara lands and the Tenetehara mode of production. This caused the dispersal

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156 of villages and the process of apadrlnhageni ("becoming godchild to someone") whereby a Tenetehara family would become attached to a Brazilian patron who would supposedly provide them with their means of economic survival. The Pindare Post agent, or rather agents, since the turnover ' rate of agents was rather high, were unable to check this process of deculturation. In fact, the various other measures of economic incentive only exacerbated this process. X In addition to gift distribution, the Pindarl agents allowed Brazilians to live in Tenetehara villages as traders and store keepers on the assumption that they would motivate the Tenetehara to higher productivity. Store keepers had small stores stocked with basic necessities , such as gun powder, clothes, kerosene, salt, sugar, and sugar rum for sale or from exchange for Tenetehara products. Whereas in the 1930s and early 1940s a great portion of Tenetehara trade goods were surplus agricultural products, which favored Tenetehara economic development and social cohesion, with the onset of World War II (i.e., after 1942) the production of b abagu nuts became foremost in the Tenetehara trade economy of the Pindare region. The production of babagu nuts, which is an extractive product, is done exclusively by nuclear families with no need at all for ' economic cooperation with other family groups. A great number of Tenetehara villages of the lower Pindare River and even of the upper Pindare, therefore, dispersed into small groups. They became either attached or dependents of Brazilian local residents or lingered on on the Pindare reservation in a state of existence which a missionary linguist visiting the area in 1962 called "utter social and moral apaty" (Samuel BendorSmith, personal communication). Furthermore, beginning at least in the early 1960s, the Pindare

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157 agents began the practice of renting Tenetehara lands to local Brazilians. Apparently this practice was sanctioned by the SPI Regional Office in Sao Lu1s as part of the new SPI policy of economic self-support of every Indian Post--a policy which has been called the "administrative 'mentality' of the SPI." By imitation the dispersed Tenetehara families also began to make use of this new source of income, thus increasing and sanctioning the invasion of their lands by Brazilian peasants. FUNAI recently has prohibited this practice as part of its efforts to evacuate Brazilian invaders. This prohibitionhas brought complaints on the part of some , Tenetehara family heads who-like former Post agents-became accustomed to easy revenues from this form of rent. --f The "administrative mentality," or the policy of economic selfsupport, of the SPI, was actually initiated in Maranhao in the 1940s in the form of cattle raising. The SPI invested some capital from its budget to purchase a few head of cattle from local Brazilians. These cattle were then placed on the Indian Post lands under the supervision of the agent and a hired cowboy. The Tenetehara living near the Post were excluded from this enterprise; and in any case, they lacked interest in it since the returns from their participation would amount only to free access to cow's milk. The SPI cattle were considered the exclusive property of the SPI (and by extension of the national patrimony of the Brazilian government), and thus the offspring of the cattle could not be shared by whomever took care of them. This went against the local Brazilian custom by which a cattle owner grants one out of every four calves born to whomever tends the herd. In short, the SPI provided no incentive for getting involved with cattle raising. To enable the salaried cowboy to make ends meet he consequently had to both be an agriculturalist and make illegal use of

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158 the cattle. Selling cattle to local Brazilians, therefore, became the norm of both the cowboy and the Post agent who were more often than not were on close terms with one another. The easiest and safest way to do so was to. report zero growth of the cattle population and make exchanges of healthy, prize cattle for calves or old cows with local Brazilians, thus obtaining cash to balance out the trade value of the cattle. The cash, of course, would be pocketed by the Post agent and the cowboy. Both Tenetehara and Brazilians, including the SPI commissioner, were aware of such corruption, but no measures were taken to stop it. In the 1940s the SPI had cattle placed on the lands of the Pindare Post, the Guajajara Post (then called Manuel Rabelo), the Arariboia Post, the village of Geralda on the Grajau River, and in the Bacurizinho area. These last two places had neither a resident Indian agent nor a cowboy. The Tenetehara were not paid for tending this cattle, which consisted simply of given some salt provided by the SPI, as the cattle roamed at will. The Tenetehara had been indoctrinated or intimidated enough by the SPI to believe that it was their obligation to see to it that the "national patrimony" be taken care of. That they did not comply with this obligation as expected is certain. In 1956, the 19 head of cattle in the Bacurizinho area were transferred to the Guajajara Post. The cattle from village Geralda had previously been transported to the Arari' boia Post. The written correspondence between the Grajau agent and the SPI commissioner in the 1950s records their concern with the question of where to place the cattle of the Arariboia Post since apparently they were not being well cared for there. In 1956 the commissioner wrote the Grajad agent that the SPI had 20 cattle in the Arariboia Post (which had been reduced from 52 head in

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159 previous years), 230 at the Guajajara Post (plus 41 horses, nine mules, ' 68 donkeys, 78 sheep, 110 goats, 876 pigs, and 915 chickens-although it is not clear if all of these belonged to the SPI or to individual Tenetehara), and over 100 cattle in the Pindare Post. Nowadays, the Pindare Post still has about 250 head of cattle, and the Guajajara Post has less than 50 head. The Bacurizinho Post recently acquired two bullocks from the latter Post and has about 18 more cattle that belong to individual Tenetehara and the Post agent. It is to the corrupt practices of agents and commissioners (after 1963) that we can attribute the destruction of this patrimony. Particularly scandalous was the action taken by a commissioner in 1964 who visited the Tenetehara Indian Posts and sold the great majority of the remaining cattle, allegedly for his own profit. The 250 cattle herd at the Pindare Post has remained a source of revenue for almost all agents and commissioners. Punitive actions against these plunderers were occasionally taken by a commissioner who was at odds with the Post agent but no substantial changes have come about. What is most detrimental to the Tenetehara in this cattle enterprise is not necessarily the fact that the Tenetehara are exploited because their lands are used without any compensation, nor the corrupt examples set by the SPI/FUNAI authorities, nor even the fact that this practice only continues the ideology of paternalism and political control over the Tenetehara. What is most detrimental to the Tenetehara is the fact that often the cattle wander into Tenetehara gardens and destroy the whole of one's seasonal labor in a matter of hours. There is no compensation when that happens because the Tenetehara themselves are expected to fence their gardens to protect them from such an eventuality. Moreover, if in an outburst of anger, a Tenetehara maims or kills a cow caught

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160 in flagrante in his garden, he is expected to pay the SPI/FUNAI the value of the damage. Although this policy is not enforced, it nevertheless places the Tenetehara culprit on the defensive and in the potential situation to receive other forms of punishment. This is one more cause of the insecure state in which the Tenetehara of the Pindare Post find themselves, and which contributes to the general low agricultural productivity and the consequent state of social apathy of the area. But even in areas such as Bacurizinho which has only 20 cattle, fences must be constructed and problems constantly arise over the trespass of certain cattle (called gado roceiro because they always manage to get into the ro£as or gardens) into the gardens. In 1965 some Tenetehara of the Bacurizinho area acquired some cattle through the calf sharing practice, perhaps as many as 100 head, by allowing a local cattleowner to graze his cattle on Tenetehara lands. By 1972, the great majority of this herd had been killed by Tenetehara neighbors who had had their gardens invaded. In short, it seems unfeasible for the Tenetehara themselves to own cattle under present practices of raising and tending them; the cattle enterprise of the SPI/FUNAI, therefore, becomes an imposition on the Tenetehara, with only adverse effects on their subsistence activities. Having seen the limited results of the programs of land security, health maintenance, and economic incentives, we may now briefly examine the education program, or rather programs, of the SPI and FUNAI for the Tenetehara. The idea behind "educating" the Indian dates back to the mission system of colonial times. Through this period as well as the period immediately preceding the creation of the SPI, to educate the Indian meant to integrate the Indian into the lov;er strata of the Brazilian society; it meant, in fact, to transform the Indian into a peasant. The

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161 positivistic ideology of the SPI appears to have given margin to reelabora tions of previous concepts of Indian integration into the national society As formulated by an early SPI director, Luiz Bueno Horta Barbosa, the purpose of the SPI was not to make a peasant out of the Indian, but "to make the Indian a better Indian" (in Ribeiro 1962:133). Notwithstanding the elusiveness of this formulation it seems to have meant that the Indian should be given some education so that he could function in his society as well as have knowledge of the Brazilian society, or better, of Western civilization (cf. Ribeiro 1962:155-158). It seems to have been in this idealistic spirit that the SPI instituted an education program for the Tenetehara In 1940. A Brazilian teacher was sent to the Pindar^ Indian Post in 1941 to set up a school in the Post village to teach Tenetehara children. When Wagley and Galvao visited this village the teacher was trying her best to stimulate interest in her pupils for such subjects as geography, Brazilian history, arithmetic, as well as writing and reading Portuguese. Considering that the teaching methods and textbooks that she used were the same as those used for Brazilians she was obviously not successful in this endeavor (Wagley and Galvao 1949:13). In 1943, she was transferred to the Guajajara Indian Post near Barra do Corda and subsequently to the Arariboia Post in 1948, and finally to the Tenetehara village of Ipu located in the Bacurizinho area in 1953. There she taught until her retirement in 1970. During this period (1941-70) this woman was practically the only Brazilian who became a permanent teacher for the Tenetehara. Other Brazilians taught in other Posts for shorter periods of time, in general no more than two or three years. During her tenure in the Ipu village she managed to make at least four Tenetehara men literate in Portuguese. These men are now among the

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162 17 monitores, or bilingual teachers, presently teaching their fellow Tenetehara under the education program recently created by FUNAI. In Chapter I, I briefly outlined the creation of the FUNAI bilingual education program in 1972 and some of the problems involved in administering it. Foremost among these is the question of allocating funds to pay for the school lunch and the salaries of the monitores. In addition, there exists considerable difficulties with the question of monitores filling out monthly reports of their activities in the classroom. These reports must include statistics on the percentage of student attendance versus days taught, a task which involves more knowledge of mathematics than the monitores have. During the months of August to December, 1975, the . monitores took at least five days to fill their reports out; in fact, they could not compute the percentages required and had to ask someone else to do it for them. A few of them had to go to Sao Luis exclusively for the purpose of filling out those reports. Such a waste of time and money caused distress and anxiety for the monitores, and one of them had to be eliminated by FUNAI because he was unable, after a great deal of instruction, to fill oii his reports to the satisfaction of the program coordinator. These problems apart (and it seems to me that they could be easily overcome by elimination), the bilingual education program has been highly regarded by the Tenetehara themselves. The fact that the teachers are themselves Tenetehara and that classes are taught in both Portuguese and Tenetehara are the main reasons for the success of the program. In and of itself this is an unprecedented event in the history of Indian-Brazilian relations, and FUNAI can duly claim credit for creating it. It remains to be seen how long it will continue and what effects it will have on the next generation of Tenetehara. At the present time, the

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163 appearance of Tenetehara salaried employees is being felt principally in the economy of the Tenetehara, as we will see in Chapter VIII. To illustrate the mediating role of the SPI/FUNAI on the other aspects of Tenetehara-Brazilian relations, a few examples will be presented. Until the late 1940s, the transportation facilities in the town of Grajaci, as center of the economy of its vast county, were very undeveloped and slow. One way of transporting its agricultural products and obtaining manufactured goods was through muleteering, that is, transporting goods by mule trains back and forth to towns of commercial entrepot, such as Caxias on the Itapecuru River and Carolina on the Tocantins River. The other means of transportation was man-powered canoes going up and down the Grajau River to the town of Vitoria on the Mearim River, which was a stopping point on the way to Sao Lufs. Muleteering was carried out exclusively by Brazilians, although Tenetehara and other Indians might help at certain intervals along the way, particularly if cattle were being transported. Canoe transportation on the Grajau River, however, was powered by Tenetehara Indian labor, although poor Brazilian peasants were also involved. The canoes were actually quite large, measuring about 60. feet by 10 feet, and were manned by 16 paddlers and one captain who steered and who was in charge of the operation. From Grajau they carried bales of cotton, wild skins, hides, and babacu nuts, and from Vito^ria they brought salt, kerosene, fabrics, guns, and other such necessities. The canoes were owned by local storeowners and sometimes by an enterprising landowner of Grajau. In the 1940s each of the 16 paddlers were paid 30$000 (about U.S. $1.50) per round trip, which took 15 to 30 days depending on the water level of the Grajau River. Food was also part of the crew's

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164 wages but sugar rum, a necessary item of consumption, was charged to the crew by the owner of the canoe, or the captain, as the case might be. According to my informants, the 30$000 wages could buy only a set of clothes for a man and a woman and some gun powder and gun shot (See also Wagley 1942). Invariably every crew member became indebted to the canoe owner because these wagers were never quite sufficient to pay for other commodities bought on credit in the canoe owner's store. What was most appalling about the canoe transportation system, however, was not that it was a form of indentured labor, but the conditions of work. The Grajau River is rather shallow in its middle and upper courses, and even during the rainy season it has many shallow spots and rapids through which such heavily loaded canoes must pass. The risk of overturning, therefore, is rather high. Moreover, on the way upriver, the sheer power of paddling is not sufficient to move the canoes up through these obstacles. Therefore, at many points up and down the river, the crew of paddlers had to get out of the canoe and into the water in order to push it up or move it down safely. To push the canoe up river the crew had to use poles 15 feet long by four inches in diameter, one end of which was placed in notches on each side of the canoe and the other was firmed against the breast of the paddle-pusher. One can imagine the pressure of such canoes on the pectoral muscles of the crew, and when the canoe accidently moved to one side the crew on that side would receive the full pressure of it. Many crewmen, therefore, were literally impaled or lost an arm, broke a jaw, or were tossed downriver when such accidents happened. Moreover, malarial fevers and other diseases picked up through such extreme work conditions, with poor diet and little rest, added up to take a heavy toll on the crew. Almost every Tenetehara family of the

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165 Grajau region, including those living along the Zutiua and Mearim Rivers, can name a close relative who died "pushing canoes." And those crewmen who survived bear the scars of this toil in a visible roundish depression on their pectoral muscles. To counteract this form of labor the SPI, after many complaints from the Tenetehara of the region first made it obligatory as part of the contract of recruitment that the canoe owner provide four meals a day to the Tenetehara crewmen, and that two of these meals should have coffee and sugar. This was actually an improvement recognized by the Tenetehara themselves, and apparently it was carried out. Finally, perhaps two or three years later, that is, by 1950, the Tenetehara were forbidden by the SPI to hire themselves out as crewmen. This order entailed also the annulment of any and all debts that the Tenetehara had incurred to the storeowners through the canoe business. It is not clear whether or not the SPI paid these debts, but the Tenetehara talk of this time as a "liber ation" for they had indeed run up large debts. The SPI agent in Grajau and the commissioner in Sao Lufs who were responsible for this action have since boasted of it as an act of courage and of genuine concern for the welfare of the Tenetehara. The canoe business is referred to by them as the "Indian murdering machine" ( maquina de matar fndio). Indeed one may say that this is a positive example of the mediating and protective role of the SPI/FUNAI. But one should not be blind to the fact that this action was taken only after some 30 years of labor recruitment. Moreover this was done at precisely the time when the means of transportation of the region were being improved with the construction of dirt roads, when canoe transportation was actually on the decline. It seems that it was finished altogether by 1951 or 1952, as there are no more records of it after that time.

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166 Another example of the SPI/FUNAI mediating role is taken from the Grajau region. It seems that as a result of .labor recruitment for the canoe business, several Tenetehara families moved permanently to a place across the river from the town of Grajau in the 1920s. There they planted their gardens and even sugar cane to sell to local storeowners and of course the men became engaged in the canoe business. There, was a close relationship between Tenetehara and local Brazilians, a relationship that involved not only economic transaction but also social intercourse. Several Brazilians married Tenetehara women and many Tenetehara families became assimilated as peasants on the lands of the local landowners. And while their Tenetehara husbands were away on the canoe trips, many Tenetehara women were used sexually by local Brazilians who would throw parties in the Tenetehara village for this purpose. Thus a certain proportion (in addition to the intermixture of the late nineteenth century) of Brazilian genes in the Tenetehara population dates to this period between 1920 and 1950. With the growth of the town of Grajau, even such growth as was brought by the canoe business, the Tenetehara across the river were progressively forced to move to another locality a couple of miles away from the town itself. This new site, called Morro Branco, became not only a permanent village, but also a place where Tenetehara from other villages would lodge when they came to Grajau to trade or work in the canoes. In the 1940s and early 1950s, Morro Branco had a population of perhaps 60 to 80 Tenetehara living in ten to fifteen houses. When the SPI became established in Grajau" in the 1940s, and after the end of the canoe business in the early 1950s, it began to be pressured by local townspeople to abolish this settlement and to move

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167 the Tenetehara farther away from the town. Although the land on which Morro Branco was located was municipal land, the townspeople and incoming Brazilians began to demarcate plots around the village and register these plots as private property. The Tenetehara progressively lost their de facto right to use this land and therefore began to move away. Those who stayed were able to make a living only by hiring themselves to the townspeople to do such jobs as fetch water and firewood, as domestics, and as wage laborers in clearing and planting the gardens of the townspeople or the landowners nearby. Three Tenetehara women in the mid1950s became prostitutes for the townsmen even though they continued to live in the last permanent houses of the village. Coupled with this prostitution, a few Tenetehara men apparently resorted to begging in the streets, thus causing a scandal in the SPI Regional Office since the agent from Barra do Corda began to accuse the Grajau agent of being responsible for this situation. Indian prostitution itself, if effected inside the village may not be a matter for great moral alarm on the part of local SPI ideology, but accusation that one's Indians are begging for food shakes the whole credibility of an agent and ultimately the image of the SPI in the eyes of local Brazilians. This accusation against the Grajau agent, the validity of which was probably unfounded, caused the agent first, to try to marry off the Tenetehara prostitutes , two of whom he seemed to have succeeded with, and second, to eliminate Morro Branco. However, as he was transferred to another town, he did not succeed in the second instance. To this day Morro Branco continues to be a place of lodging for the Tenetehara, but it has now shrunk to one single house structure with a roof and no walls. Even the nearby water source is now within

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168 the confines of a fenced plot belonging to a Brazilian peasant. The importance of Morro Branco or a place for the Tenetehara to stay in Grajau has been stressed by every Tenetehara to the SPI/FUNAI authorities. Nothing has been done about it and in fact, FUNAI, like SPI, thinks that it should be eliminated. In this respect, the ideology of SPI was that the Indian would only be corrupted by living near Brazilian towns. The FUNAI ideology is also built on this assumption—whether or not it applies to the Morro Branco case--and is furthered by the policy that the Tenetehara should live on reservation lands and that no other lands should be allocated to them, whether or not this land is and has been theirs de facto There is no provision in the FUNAI land program for the legalization of Morro Branco as Indian land. One can interpret this lack of concern not only as an attitude of convenience since the legalization of Morro Branco would be one more job to do, but also as an attitude of holding to a rigid policy which excludes the point of view and special interests of the Tenetehara. A final example of the mediating role of FUNAI also comes from the Grajau region. In June 1972, a labor recruiter from Imperatriz, a town on the Tocantins River which was experiencing stupendous economic and population growth due to the construction of the Beleln-Brasi 1 ia Highway which passes through it, came to Grajau and convinced ten Tenetehara men to come with him to work on the cattle ranch of a rich man near Imperatriz. They were to be paid the standard regional daily wage plus room and board. Their work would be to cut down the forest of the ranch land in order to turn it into pasture land. Such offers and conditions of work are no cause for alarm, and labor recruitment of this sort has been a common occurrence in Northern Brazil for the last six or

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169 seven years. It is part of the national program to develop that area of Brazil by means of large capitalist enterprises. Clearing the forest to make pasture lands for cattle raising is the most common enterprise in this development. X The ten Tenetehara men were taken by truck to the ranch near Imperatriz, a distance of about 150 miles from Grajau. A few days later local Brazilians spread rumors that the Tenetehara had been "enslaved," that they were not going to receive any money for their work, and that they might even be killed by the ranch's foreman. This was a possibility with basis in fact, according to many of my Brazilian informants, since it had happened to a number of Brazilians who had been recruited to work in far-away places. Soon the wives and daughters of these men began to pressure their fellow-villagers to take this matter to FUNAI. The Post agent then contacted the Sixth Regional Office in Sao Luis which then reported the matter to the Federal Police. Finally, fifteen days after the "kidnapping" of the ten Tenetehara men, the Federal Police, with the FUNAI commissioner and. assistants , marched onto the ranch to rescue the Tenetehara. Then a truck was hired to take these men back to Grajau. FUNAI later claimed that the Tenetehara men were paid for their work, but the Tenetehara themselves disclaim this assertion. Here, once again, is an example of the positive role of FUNAI. And, once again, one should take notice of the elements of this role: pressure from the Tenetehara, public opinion, the need to save face, the claim to patronage, and the undertones of financial self-interest on the part of the individuals who form FUNAI. Politically speaking, what is most interesting in the present situation of the Sixth Regional Office of FUNAI is its alliance with the Federal Police. During SPI

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170 times there was no such help except from the Army in more remote areas. In fact, the SPI was always clashing with local interest and the local police departments. The Federal Police has played a most ruthless role in defending the interests of the old and new landowners against the dispossessed peasants in Maranhao in recent years. It has played a more attenuated role in defense of the Tenetehara concerning these conditions of labor recruitment and against the Brazilian peasants who invaded Tenetehara lands. FUNAI finds in the Federal Police a most helpful hand in these situations and tries its best to please them. Thus when the Federal Police began to crack down on the production and traffic of marijuana in Maranhao, FUNAI allowed it to make any raids or arrest of Tenetehara villages and villagers suspect of selling marijuana. This of course goes against the FUNAI policy that Indian cultural ways should not be tampered with. In fact, as far as Tenetehara use of marijuana is concerned, the policy-making body of FUNAI in Brasilia was divided on the issue: one group continued to uphold the liberal policy of interpreting this matter as part of Tenetehara culture, while the other proposed a strict prohibition of marijuana use. At any rate, it is quite clear that the Sixth Regional Office is eager to continue its close relations with the Federal Police. If the threat of imprisonment and death from the Federal Police were to end, the Brazilian peasants at the present time would probably use violence, even annihilation, against the Tenetehara. On the other hand, FUNAI, or should I say the liberal elements that comprise it, should be aware of the function of the Federal Police as an enforcing organ of Brazilianpolitical power. Were the present policy to tip towards the peasants or

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171 even more toward the indiscriminate "developmental" strategy that favors cattle ranching and agribusiness, the Federal Police would not have any qualms about turning against the Tenetehara. FUNAI, becauseof the many contradictions that plague it, is therefore merely a passive organ of protection. Its mediating role, its actual power to mediate between the Tenetehara and the changing Brazilian society, has become less and less autonomous. This decreasing influence is one not only in absolute terms, that is, in comparison with other organs of the Brazilian government, but in relative terms, that is, in comparison with the influence of the SPI in the 1940s and 1950s. This decline can be seen in the slowness with which FUNAI is able to legalize Indian lands, in the debacle of its program to improve the economic conditions of the Indians (craft industry or cattle raising, but not agriculture), in the lack of an efficient health program for the Indians, in the policy of excluding Indian partici pation in the policy making process--and ultimately in the low esteem with which it is held by Brazilians and Indians alike. All of this-but with the exception of the bilingual education program— makes one want to agree with the claims of former SPI agents that despite the smaller staff and budget, the SPI at least until the 1950s was more effective than the present day FUNAI. But in the final analysis the SPI and FUNAI are but one organ at different times of Brazilian Indian policy. They are determined by the conditions of the Brazilian political structure and there is no escaping the fact that the Indian plays a small part in the modern Brazilian society, as far as the national policy makers are concerned. Therefore, the SPI/FUNAI should always be seen as an organ of contradictions:

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172 purported to be "in favor" of the Indian, it is and can only be in favor of the Indian inasmuch as it does not affect the power structure of a society which does not favor the Indian. Throughout the 65 years of SPI/FUNAI history the resolutions of this contradiction have been generally to the detriment of the Indian. On the other hand, without ,the SPI/FUNAI, there would not be even a contradiction, only a clear negative attitude toward the Indians, and the consequences thereof. The SPI/FUNAI, in sum, is the lesser of two evils, and as such it is needed by the Indian. ' , Thus the Tenetehara have been brought to the present conditions in which they find themselves, conditions which were sketched in Chapters I and II. The purpose of these last three chapters was threefold: first, to illustrate the ethnohi story of the Tenetehara, i.e., the changes and developments of their society through the 362 years of contact with the encroaching (Western) Brazilian society. Second, to show that these changes occur in response to these forces of contact, a response that contains an important element of reaction, not just passive adaptation. And third, the body of data presented here will serve as a point of reference from which the analyses presented in the following chapters will proceed.

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CHAPTER VII TENETEHARA ECONOMIC SYSTEM: AN OVERVIEW In. the preceding three chapters the ethnohi story of the Tenetehara has been analyzed in terms of the dialectical relations between Tenetehara and Brazilian society. The analysis has focused on the kinds of relations that, developed between these two societies according to the social and economic conditions existing during various historical phases of the formation of the Brazilian society and according to the reaction of the Tenetehara society to these particular conditions. This reaction was' interpreted both in terms of adaptation and conflict. On a different level of analysis this reaction expressed itself through the kinds of social and economic relations that developed between Tenetehara and Brazilians. It need not be further elaborated that these relations stem from the structures of each society and that these structures are in a constant process of change due to both internal and external causes. The distinction between "social" and "economic" activities of a society is necessarily an analytical, not an empirical, one. It arises from a basic concept of society as an entity that needs to reproduce itself (hence the social) as well as to produce its means of livelihood (thus the economic). In each of these basic societal functions one can perceive a structure of regulation of the mechanisms that constitute them. The components of each of these structures can be the same for both but there can also be other analytical components in one 173 •

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174 which are not present in another. Hence there is a need to analyze them separately. Keeping in mind, therefore, the distinction between the "social" and the "economic," this chapter is concerned with the economic relations of the Tenetehara both within their society and in relation to Brazilian society. By economic relations it is meant the relations among the Tenetehara and between Tenetehara and Brazilians, which are strictly concerned with the production, distribution , and consumption of those goods and services which provide the material maintenance of Tenetehara society. Economic relations are the empirical level of the analysis presented here; they concern the behavior between two persons or categories of persons. On the analytical level, the totality of economic relations form the economic system, or the system that is concerned with the material provisioning of the society. The economic system of the Tenetehara is formed by two structures which are in a dialectical relationship to one another. The first is the internal Tenetehara economy or the set of economic relations that take place exclusively among the Tenetehara. The second is the trade economy or the set of economic relations which have resulted from the contact between Tenetehara and Brazilians. One can, for analytical purposes, describe each structure as an entity separate from the other, but in empirical reality they are a single totality, and in the minds of the Tenetehara they constitute a single reality. Moreover, the structural categories of the economic system, i.e., production, distribution, and consumption (of goods and services), vary and are changed according to the changes in the two economic structures. Although these two economies are in a dialectical relation to one another, with the

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175 basis of the trade economy resting upon the internal economy, it is the trade economy which plays the most important role in determining the mechanisms of the internal economy and consequently the Tenetehara economic system as a whole. X The categories of production, distribution, and consumption are interlinked with one another as phases of a single process. Theoretically, in the internal economy of the Tenetehara, the categories of production and consumption are one and the same, since every unit of production is potentially self-sufficient, and therefore, the consumer of its products. This, however, does not preclude the exchange of goods between production units, notwithstanding the theoretical rudundancy of such action. Goods are exchanged between production units, or the category of distribution is at play, because of other factors such as social ones which are not necessarily economic. These social factors, such as reciprocity and marital alliances, have to do with the process of integrating the. independent production units into a social body, a society, and preventing them from dispersing as a logical conclusion of their self-sufficiency (cf. Sahlins 1972: Ch. II and III). . Thus in the analysis of the internal economy of the Tenetehara, the ' categories production (consumption) and distribution will be analyzed as structures of a system which will be referred to as "the mode of production." To be congruent with the Marxist terminology then, what has been so far called here "production" and "distribution" are equivalent to Marx's production forces and production relations. These latter concepts are more general and encompassing, and therefore, will be used here. Production or production forces encompass several factors:

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176 (1) natural resources which are utilized by the society and which encompass the ecological factors of availability of land, land fertility, flora, fauna, climate, and so on; (2) production units or the groups of people who actually go about the process of producing; (3) technical norms which encompass not only the given knowledge of the natural resources utilized but also the techniques and tools by which these resources are transformed into consumable economic and cultural goods; (4) the level of productivity, that is, whether or not the production units can manage an economic surplus beyond the internal needs of the society. In a similar sense, production relations constitute a structure composed of the following factors: (1) division of labor within the production units, in the case of the Tenetehara (until recently), along sex and age lines. (2) Social division of labor, that is, the existence of production units as separate entities, each with a different function. This is essentially the economic, basis of what one might call social stratification and until recently it existed only in the person of the shaman who performed a special kind of labor function. (3) Forms of distribution, that is, the mediation between the independent production units through reciprocity (generalized, balanced, and negative [cf. Sahlins 1972: Ch. V]), redistribution and exchange (cf. Polanyi, 1957). (4) Economic alienation of labor, or the disparity between production and consumption, as consumption units begin to differentiate in certain aspects from the production units, due to the rise of a trade economy. This factor essentially relates to the expropriation of the labor power of an individual £er se^ or a production unit without due recompensation of the value of this labor, whether the value

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177 is determined by the internal or the trade economy. (5) Ethnic system or the relations between Tenetehara villages within a particular area as caused by economic factors such as variability in the resources of villages, and the consequent different kinds of relations which particular villages have with Brazilians through the trade economy. To sum up this theoretical framework, Figure 4 illustrates how the categories, concepts, and factors are interrelated as structures in hierarchical levels. Before proceeding to analyze the Tenetehara economic system we need to define the factors enumerated above in terms of their constituent elements which form the reality of Tenetehara society through history: Production Forces (1) Resources : The elements that constitute this factor have already been listed in general terms. Suffice it to mention further that the avail-, ibility of land has become in modern times an element with problematic aspects, as the question of land competition intensifies. (2) Production Units : (a) Nuclear family: formed by a man, his wife (or wives), unmarried children, one parent (of either the man or his wife), and one or several unmarried relatives. The minimal unit is formed by the man, one wife, and unmarried children, but the existence of the other three components, which could be called polygynous, stem, and composite families, is analyzed here as nuclear family because in Tenetehara society these variants work all the same as a single production unit.

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178 ^^'S^'^e 4Hierarchical Levels of Economic Anal v SI s Economic System Economic Relations Internal Economy Trade Economy Mode of Production Production Forces (1) Resources (2) Production Units (3) Technical Norms (4) Productivity Production Relations (1) Division of Labor. (2) Social Division of Labor reciprocity (3) Distribution redistribution exchange (4) Economic Alienation of Labor (5) Ethnic System

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179 (b) Extended family: formed by two or more nuclear families who produce jointly under the direction of the head of one of the nuclear families.. This joint production does not have to include all the economic activities of the Tenetehara nuclear family but it must include the production of gardens and the use of garden products and/or the production of goods intended' for the trade economy. (c) Communal production: this is the largest production unit of Tenetehara society and concerns the joint labor of all men and women of a village. This type of production is directed to such activities as fishing with poison sap, hunting to obtain game meat for ceremonial purposes, and, in modern times, demarcating the boundaries of Tenetehara lands (the last two activities are exclusively male endeavors). ( 3 ) Technical Norms : (a) Knowledge of the environment: soils, climatic changes,, flora, fauna. (b) Tools: stone axe, iron implements (ax, machete, sickle); bow and arrow, muzzle-loading guns, shot guns; basketry. (c) Techniques: slash-and-burn cultivation; food processing; hunting by tocaia , by stalking, by driving game to dry i.slands; fishing by poison sap; by hook and line; by bow and arrow; collecting fruits, resins, and tree oils; weaving. (4) Productivity : The quantification of this factor is presented in the economic

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180 analysis at various historical phases. The basic level or productivity is defined as the quantity of goods produced to support the internal economy. The concept of economic surplus is analyzed in terms of the excess production of the internal economy in relation to the demands of the trade economy. Surplus of the internal economy in itself, whether it occurs accidentally or intentionally, is disregarded and considered non-existent in this analysis because there are no social mechanisms to capitalize on it (cf. Pearson 1957; Dalton 1962). . ' Production Relations Division of Labor : (a) In the nuclear family unit it is determined by sex: the men hunt, clear and plant gardens and construct houses; the women harvest, process food, do basketry, and make hammocks. Fishing and collecting is done by both sexes. In modern times this division tends to be less delineated particularly in the areas of production for the trade economy, as will be seen. (b) In the extended family unit the age factor comes into play. The head of this unit is in charge of pooling labor for particular activities and disposing of the labor produce as he sees fit. When this production is intended for the trade economy, then one can speak of alienation of the labor products of the producers by the head producer, although this is not a necessary development. (c) In the communal production the division of labor is along sex lines as in the nuclear fmaily unit; division along age lines also takes place.

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181 (2) Social Division of Labor : This has been identified as the economic basis of social stratification. The presence of shamans as specialists, however, does not bring about stratification. This office of shaman is not transmitted through lines of succession but is acquired by men and, to a lesser extent by women, according to personal proclivities. The office of village chief ( capitao ) is not an aboriginal trait of the Tenetehara, as far as can be determined, but rather an imposition by the Brazilian society through the trade economy; although it is most often transmitted through the extended family it does not take on characteristics of class or rank. Recent developments of the trade economy have brought forth the appearance of economically influential headmen of extended families, a basis for rank stratification. However, the fluctuations of the trade economy (the "boom and bust" cycle) together with mechanisms of economic levelling preclude the crystallization of rank formation. The very recent appearance of moni tores, or salaried bilingual teachers, can give rise to rank formation, but there are too many other variables present for it to be possible to assume such a development. (3) Distribution : This is the mechanism for circulating goods internally and externally in, the Tenetehara economic system. In the internal economy, goods are circulated by generalized and balanced reciprocity between production units. The latter type is postulated to have arisen due to the trade economy. Within the extended family production units redistribution is the norm, but it may come in the form of

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182 negative reciprocity since economic alienation of labor may take place. However, that occurs only due to -the production of a surplus and the personal amibition of the head producer. Within the nuclear family, distribution is effected through both positive . reciprocity and redistribution, the distinction between these two forms being rather unimportant in this analysis. Between the internal and the trade economies, negative reciprocity is historically the first form to arise. As the Tenetehara begin to become aware of the market and the competition between Brazilian traders, balanced reciprocity comes into play, first in the form of patronclient economic relations and then through market exchange. From the point of view of the value of Tenetehara labor, of course, patron-clientship and market exchange are forms of expropriations of this labor. By reason of the class structure that underlies the market mechanism in the Brazilian society, the labor of Indians and peasants are most often undervalued and underpriced. Patronclientship and market exchange are viewed here as balanced reciprocity only from the standpoint of the necessary economic relations that exist in the Brazilian class society. If one were to speak in an absolute and critical sense, these relations should be termed negative, particularly as far as the Tenetehara are concerned. However, keeping in mind the relative sense used here, negative reciprocity occurs only in the early stages of patronclientship at a time when the Tenetehara were unaware of the exchange value of the goods in trade. Negative reciprocity is also used in the sense of theft, plunder, and other kinds of • economic coercion.

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183 Economic Alienation of Labor : Alienation of one's labor products can exist within the production units, as for instance when a woman makes a hammock which is sold by her husband to buy a gun. But this type of alienation is not sufficiently charged with social consequences beyond the production unit because the gun is used to obtain game to feed the family. What is considered here is the alienation of the labor product of a nuclear family by the head of the extended family of which the former is a part. This has occurred in certain phases of high productivity of the trade economy. One of the consequences of this alienation is the eventual breakdown of the extended family. One can speak of the contradiction of the nuclear versus the extended family precisely in this context. The expropriation of Tenetehara labor as a whole by the Brazilian society, as stated in factor 3 above, is included in economic alienation of labor. Ethnic System : The largest production unit of the Tenetehara is the village which is, with minor exceptions, self-sufficient in its interal economy. But economic relations between villages are carried on through nuclear or extended family units. Due to circumstances of variability of resources and/or the type of trade economy certain villages acquire a' superior economic position in relation to other villages. Here lies the economic basis for the rise of village ranking. But as with social ranking the process never becomes established. Under this heading will be seen also how "territory" is delimited by each village in relation to another nearby. Of course the population size and density during particular historical phases

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184 has already been seen in the preceding chapters. Economic relations between villages through their production units are subsumed under social relations and take place in social ceremonies. Trade Economies The concept of trade economy has been defined in Chapter II as the economic as well as social mediator between Tenetehara and Brazilian society. The modes of economic relations in the trade economy have been described also in terms of the phases of slavery (1613-1652), serfdom (1653-1755), and patron-cl ientship ([1755] 1840-1975). In the first two modes of economic relations the predominant characteristic is the use of Tenetehara labor as labor alienated from the mechanisms of the internal economy, that is, as non-free labor. This does not mean that during these times the Tenetehara internal economy stopped operating; rather it became ancillary to the trade economy. Tenetehara labor in these trade economies provided almost absolute surplus-value to the controllers of the trade economies, whereas their internal economies continued to exist in order to maintain the bare livelihood of the Tenetehara. With the rise of patron-client economic relations, Tenetehara labor was, in a sense, set free. Thus the internal economy becomes the predominant economy, the trade economy being anci 11 ary to it . Tenetehara labor used in this trade economy is Tenetehara surplus-labor. In other words, the conditions of unfree versus free labor make the relations between the internal and the trade economies the exact opposite in the mode of patron-client economic relations from the preceeding modes. In the mode of patron-client economic relations (defined in Chapter V)

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185 one can distinguish two types of trade economies: one in which the production of agricultural goods predominate, and the other which is. directed toward the production of extractive forest goods. Although there has always existed some overlapping in the types of production for exchange in all areas where the Tenetehara have entered into economic relations with the Brazilian society, one can nonetheless distinguish areas of Tenetehara trade economies according to the predominance of the agricultural trade economy or the extractive trade economy. It will be recalled that the agricultural trade economy is found in areas near Brazilian towns or settlements, such as on the lower Pindare River and on the upper Mearim River near Barra do Corda and Grajau. Extractive trade economies are found on the upper Pindare and Zutiua Rivers, the Gurupi River, and in the State of Para. The features that distinguish these two types of trade economies have been described as of a predominantly social nature. In the agricultural type the Brazilian agents (compradores and store owners) of this trade economy impose obligations of exclusive exchange without affecting the Tenetehara agents within their own society. Moreover, the relative abundance of patrons in these towns gives the Tenetehara a certain leeway in shifting allegiance. On the other hand, the extractive trade economy generally tends to affect the mechanisms of the internal economy because it demands goods that are outside the orbit of the internal economy. _A Tenetehara production unit that goes into the forest to obtain copaiba oil, resins, babagu nuts, or skins, cannot at the same time produce gardens to maintain the internal economy. Thus there is a tendency for the rise of dependency on agricultural goods that are not produced by the interal economy. This process has

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186 been well documented by Murphy (1960:18-23) for the Mundurucu who were engaged in the production of rubber, and one can safely say that many other Indian groups in rubber areas suffered a similar type of constraint. For the Tenetehara the extractive trade economy was less destructive because the external demand for the extractive products found in their area was not as forceful as the demand for rubber in other regions of lowland Brazil. In this analysis I will present some economic data on the mechanisms of the extractive trade economy which will illustrate both the differences between this type of economy and the agricultural type, as well as the progressive integration of the Tenetehara into the market system through their increased knowledge of the mechanisms of market exchange. This knowledge is expressed here in terms of the distinction between production for use-value and production for exchange-value, or simple circulation of commodities versus circulation of commodities as capital. One need not elaborate on the fact that circulation (or distribution) of goods in the Tenetehara internal economy is of the simple type of circulation: the Tenetehara produce use-value goods and exchange them for similar goods with use-value. Historically, this exchange is effected first through generalized reciprocity and later through balanced reciprocity. In the latter form, to give an example, a Tenetehara man may slaughter a pig and sell parts of it for money, but this money is used to obtain another equivalent good, which can be any commodity, such as a gun. This is how the Tenetehara conceive of such economic activities. However, in terms of overall analysis of the latent structures of this behavior, one may say that part of the money obtained can be used for investment into the production (not consumption ) of another

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187 commodity. Particularly when this commodity has no use-value in the internal economy, such as copafba oil, lumber and handicrafts, indeed one can speak of production for exchange-value. As a matter of fact, such production does exist among the Tenetehara. Hence there exists the potential for capital accumulation and the rise of social stratification. This will be discussed in the last section of Chapter IX, when the Tenetehara economy will be compared with the peasant economy of Maranhao. In order to understand the changes that have taken place in the Tenetehara economy we need to present a model of the aboriginal Tenetehara economy. This model will be described in terms of the factors of a putative mode of production. The historical changes in this model will be analyzed in terms of changes in this mode of production, particularly in the factors of production units, technology, and production surplus; distribution, forms of labor (unfree labor, free labor, cash labor, indentured labor), knowledge of market, money, and price mechanisms (i.e., supply and demand). The ultimate effect of these changes is the modification of the Tenetehara social organization and society in general . Aboriginal Tenetehara Economy The only scientific bases from which a model of the Tenetehara economy in pre-Columbian times can be constructed are those of analogy and inference. The two tribal socieites v/hose economic systems can serve as analogical models are the Tupinamba during the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries and the Urubu-Kaapor in the present times. These are not by any means perfectly analogous systems to the Tenetehara. In Chapter IV the Tupinamba society was briefly reviewed and contrasted

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188 with the Tenetehara. The conclusion drawn from this review was that these two societies were significantly different from each other, particularly in the matters of superstructure (ritual cannibalism in the case of the Tupinamba) and the higher population density of the Tupinamba. It follows from these differences that the modes of production of the two societies were different, too. Nevertheless, the following Tupinamba characteristics •are found among the Tenetehara: communal and extended family production units; generalized economic reciprocity between production units; and a similar division of labor. On the other hand, the higher level of productivity and of population density in Tupinamba society allowed for the rise of inter-village economic exchange. In the seventeenth century Abbeville (1945:188) observed that Tupinamba villages of different districts traded with one another, using pepper apparently as a medium of exchange. It is unlikely that any such currency existed among the Tenetehara, not only for reasons of structural necessity but also because there are no records of such activity. The Tenetehara economic model is complemented by analogy with the Urubu-Kaapor. Here we find the same natural resources, technical norms, level of productivity, and a similar ethnic system that involves little competition but also little cooperation between villages. Moreover, as regards the social division of labor and the economic alienation of labor, they are nonexistent among the Urubu-Kaapor, as they must have been among the aboriginal Tenetehara. These two components of a mode of production depend upon the rise of exchange beyond the village unit, the presence of certain strategic goods in certain areas but not in others and high population density.

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189 Among the Urubu-Kaapor and probably the aboriginal Tenetehara, villages were relatively small, probably not exceeding 150 people. The Tenetehara lived in a rather uniform riverine tropical forest ecological zone, utilizing the natural resources through slash-and-burn agriculture, communal fishing, communal and individual hunting with the bow and arrow and collecting. As with the Tupinamba the cutting tool was the stone ax. The process of clearing forest for gardens with stone axes is rather time-consuming, as Salisbury (1962) has demonstrated for the Siane of New Guinea. Among the Tupinamba the forest was cleared communally in a single plot, but the planting and harvesting were carried out by extended family units (cf. Fernandes 1963:139). Modern Tenetehara informants recalling their grandparents' tales of times past concur with this statement as being applicable to them as well. In this type of organization of agricultural production, ideally each extended family had access to a garden plot, the returns of which would be sufficient for its survival. Hence one can speak of an economic equality among production units. Distribution of goods, therefore, was in the form of generalized reciprocity essentially for purposes of social cohesion. Relations between Tenetehara villages, small as they were, must have been essentially of a social nature; they were linked to one another by the mechanism of the kinship system. With one possible exception, that of the stone ax, Tenetehara villages were economically self-sufficient. Each village produced everything that was used as food, but also everything that was used as artifacts, such as basketry, bows and arrows, and feather ornaments. The acquisition of stone axes, however, poses an interesting question. As far as I could gather while in the field, stones can only be found in the Serra do Tiracambu, which is

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190 located between the upper Pindare and the Gurupi Rivers. The Tenetehara of the upper Pindare River not to mention the possible villages on the middle Pindare, had to make periodic trips to procure this basic commodity. If this is the case, it is not too far-fetched to assume that the villages nearest to stone quarries had an advantage over those farther away from them. This advantage could be translated into social terms by assuming that the favorable villages were larger and politically dominant over the others. In economic terms one can only assume the presence of an exchange mechanism either in the form of a trade network on the individual (that is, the extended family unit) level or in the form of communal trade, or both. In the first instance this trade had dimensions of kinship exchange, in the latter, of inter-village alliances. It is possible that inter-village alliances, formed by the trade of stone axes for the pledge of military support, were the predominant mechanism, of the distribution of these tools. This postulate rests on the fact that further up the Pindare River lived the Amanajos Indians, also a Tupi group of close linguistic affiliation with the Tenetehara, who must also have used the Serra do Tiracambu for their source of stone axes. The Amanajos are described in the colonial literature as a strong people ' who were much sought after by slaving expeditions; they were also the traditional enemies of the Tenetehara. An objective, economic element of this enmity might well have been the competition for stone. The Tenetehara villages nearest to the Amanajos and the stone quarries needed the military help from other Tenetehara villages, and this help was obtained through the trade of stone axes. In short, economic advantage was balanced out by political disadvantage. Thus one may conclude that under these circuWtances there were no strategic predominances of one

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191 Tenetehara village over another, no formation of political areas with connotations of dominance, no possibility for the rise of incipient chiefdoms and, economically speaking, no basis for the rise of commodity exchange. InterviTlage exchange was then merely an extension of the exchange between production units in the form of generalized reciprocity. General Changes in the Aboriginal Tenetehara Economic System It has already been seen that during the phases of slavery and serfdom, the Tenetehara internal economy and the trade economies (i.e., the economic relations of serfdom and slavery) were already two separate systems virtually unconnected to one another. This separation is most clear in the relations of slavery, for here Tenetehara labor is separated entirely from Tenetehara society economically and spatial ly . Apart from this slave labor the Tenetehara economy continued to exist as an exclusive internal economy. . To a lesser extent the distinction between the internal and the trade economy occurred also during the serfdom phase, although not in spatial terms. Here Tenetehara labor power was expropriated from the internal economy to produce exclusively for the controllers of the trade economy per se , in this case, the Jesuit mission. Whatever economic compensation was given for their labor by the Jesuits, it obviously was not equivalent to the value of the products which this labor produced and which were sold in the market in Sao Lufs. Although there are no available data on the market prices of cattle and sugar sold by the missions in Sao Lufs to bake up this assertion, the fact that the Tenetehara villages under the control of the mission did not in any sense rise economically as independent producers is sufficient evidence for the

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192 validity of this assertion. It is likely that the Jesuits reasoned that their provision of the teachings of Christian doctrine and the knowledge of the "arts of civilization," compensated for this labor which the Tenetehara provided for the mission economy. But since this purported "compensation" resulted in social disintegration in the form of individual assimilation into the regional Brazilian society, it is even more valid to speak of the mission system as an economic as well as cultural expropriation. This formulation brings into focus an important economic facet of the continuing development of the Tenetehara as an ethnic group in contact with the Brazilian society. That is, for the survival of the Tenetehara society there must be a close interrelationship between their internal economy and the trade economy through which they relate with the Brazilian society. Moreover, this interrelationship must be one in which the internal economy predominates over the trade economy, making the latter a function of the former. This function should be expressed in the economic category of surplus labor power, in other words, the production of goods for the trade economy should come from the surplus of the internal economy. The history of the Tenetehara indicates that for this interrelationship to occur the basic economic category of labor must be free from direct control by the Brazilian society. Socially this freedom is expressed in the lack of outside regulations imposed on the social organization of the Tenetehara, and economically in the predominance of their internal economy. Neither of these components existed during serfdom times, as seen in Chapter IV. In Chapter IV the conclusion was reached that the consequences of the serfdom phase on the Tenetehara society as a whole were minimal.

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193 This is due to the fact that apart from the disintegrating influence of the Jesuit mission of Maracu on the Tenetehara living there, most of the Tenetehara continued to exist almost as in aboriginal times. It . was this majority of the Tenetehara that, without contact with the Tenetehara of Viana (Maracu), expanded and continued to be identified as the Tenetehara society. One may ask, therefore, what were the "minimal" permanent consequences of the serfdom phase on the Tenetehara society? To attempt an answer one has to analyze some of the factors of the mode of production prevalent in the mission system. We have already seen that the trade economy under serfdom and the respective internal economy were not integrated with one another, other than through labor. But the products of this labor were, in the trade economy, expropriated from it, and in the internal economy, were consumed internally. Moreover, it should be recalled from Chapter IV that part of the labor expanded in the internal economy was also expropriated by the mission: The Tenetehara were expected to provide the Jesuits with free fish and game, and possibly agricultural foods as well. We might try to speculate on the changes that occurred in the Tenetehara internal economy due to the mission system. It is not too far-fetched to assume that the internal economy changed its technical norms in an appreciable way through the introduction of iron implements by the Jesuits. These implements were axes, machetes, and hoes, and they brought about the potential for a higher productivity of the basic production unit, the extended family. But the way the Jesuits distributed these implements, as economic compensation for particular favors such as the provision of fish and game, and as positive

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194 reinforcement to individuals who were following the religious policy of the Jesuits, probably caused the rise of the nuclear family as an important production unit of the internal economy. The rise of the nuclear family production unit by the introduction of more efficient agricultural tools and the regligious influence (or coercion) of the Jesuits brought about the decline of the most important function of the communal production unit: the clearing of land, and the most important social function of the extended family unit: the elaboration of social ceremonies. Henceforth, these functions are performed by the nuclear family although with the help of close relatives. Since the form of distribution of these units was generalized reciprocity, one might ask if the rise of the nuclear family production did or did not bring about the appearance of balanced reciprocal relations. The answer to that should be negative, and it is based on the structural relation involved in the presence of balanced reciprocity: for balanced reciprocity to arise it is necessary that the exchange of goods take the form of exchange-value and that this exchange be mediated by a standard of value, by money. During the serfdom phase money, even in the Brazilian economy, was restricted to the operations of the export market in Sao Luis. Even in areas of high intensity of production for export, such as on the Itapecuru River valley, the medium of exchange was rolls of spun cotton, a commodity which did not exist in the mission economy. It is very likely that in the trade economy of the mission system the use of pricing goods was nonexistent. Thus it seems unlikely that the Tenetehara internal economy would develop a price mechanism without outside influence. Indeed, as will be analyzed in Chapters VIII and IX, the basis of balanced reciprocity of the Tenetehara internal economy remains dependent on the

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195 outside market system of prices, with no internal developments of determination of value of labor and labor products. These were essentially the main changes in the internal economy of the Tenetehara as brought forth by the phases of serfdom. With the abolition of serfdom and thus the rise of patron-client relations these changes are consolidated and form the basic mode of production of the Tenetehara as we find it through the nineteenth and twentieth centuries. The appearance of the nuclear family production unit does not eliminate the extended family and the communal production units. Rather the first two units are present in the same village but alternate in predominance according to the types of trade economies and the intensity of the demands exerted by them. The intensity of demands of the trade economies cause a higher productivity of the internal economy and consequently the predominance of the production unit which best brings about this productivity. In most cases the extended family unit is more productive but at least in the case of extraction of babaQu nuts the nuclear family proves superior. The productivity of the internal economy is increased not only because of the introduction of new technical norms (iron implements and knowledge of market mechanisms) but also because of new forms of resources as in the extraction of copaTba oil, resins, wild skins, and lumber. All these introductions come from the trade economies so it is imperative that a full description of these economies in conjunction with the kind of relations involved in them be presented. This will be the subject of the next chapter. ,

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CHAPTER VIII TRADE ECONOMY THROUGH PATRON-CLIENT RELATIONS The distinction between a trade economy based on the production of agricultural goods and one based on the extraction of forest products has already been made in terms of the location of Tenetehara villages vis a vis Brazil i an settlements, and the respective consequences which each type of trade economy has on the internal economy and hence, on Tenetehara society in general. One other distinction needs to be made in terms of the degree of exploitation or, in other terms, the degree of economic alienation of labor, which each type of trade economy effects upon the Tenetehara internal economy. In this regard, the distinction is a function of the knowledge of the market mechanisms (supply and demand, money, value, and price of trade goods) which in turn is a function of the intensity of contact with the Brazilian society through history. Thus, the more contact the Tenetehara have with Brazilians, the more they learn about market mechanisms, and hence the less exploited they become. When the areas of agricultural trade economy and the extractive trade economies are compared it becomes clear that the former involves more direct contact and. hence more knowledge, more options to chose trade partners, and hence less exploitation. In the extractive trade economy the reverse is the case. As the Brazilian population begins to increase near Tenetehara areas, this distinction becomes less and less conspicuous as competition 196

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197 between Brazilian traders for extractive goods allows for a choice of . trade economy, such as that of lumber in the Bacurizinho area in the 1950s, where sale prices of lumber were set in advance by the SPI agent, all the distinctions so far presented between the two types of trade economy become inoperative in recent times. One further distinction, however, remains and becomes rather important as far as the survival of Tenetehara society is concerned. The agricultural trade economy, by virtue of the fact that it rises directly from the internal economy as surplus production, brings forth the internal development of Tenetehara society as self-sufficient in food production. The extractive trade economy, however, rises from the labor power extended to areas outside the production of food and thus makes at least part of the Tenetehara village dependent upon the Brazilians for the acquisition of food. In this case, a substantial portion of one's income obtained from the production of extractive goods is used to buy food. As will be seen, this situation is not detrimental to the Tenetehara society as long as the particular goods of the trade economy hold up in the market. But when the market no longer demands these goods the Tenetehara find themselves with little means to subsist. They thus return to the production of agricultural goods; or, if possible, they become involved in the collection of new extractive products in demand by the market. Seen in this light the characteristic lack of internal development of the extractive trade economy can be extended to every other nonagricultural production through which the Tenetehara obtain an income from outside. Here one can include not only the lumber industry and the handicraft industry, but also labor hired for cash, thus indentured labor, and the salary of the monitores. This point will be elaborated later.

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198 We will now turn to the analysis of the trade economies as they have developed since the latter half of the nineteenth century. The general data for this analysis have been presented in the preceding chapters, so here we are concerned exclusively with the precise economic data found in the literature. These data come from Brusque (1862), Dodt (1939); Wagley's (1942) and Galvao's (1945) unpublished notes, the personal files of an SPI agent of Grajau in the 1950s, and my field notes. Trade Economy in the Gurupi River Region In the 1860s, in the Gurupi region which includes the Gurupi River basin and the Capim and Guama Rivers in the State of Para, the Tenetehara were involved in the production of copaiba oil for trade. This is a fine oil obtained from the copafba tree^ by making a deep incision in its trunk, an incision which often results in the destruction of the tree (Dodt 1939:161). Copafba oil had begun to acquire trade value around the middle of the cenutry and by 1872 fifteen tons per year were being exported from the port in Sao Lufs. The copafba oil collected by the Tenetehara of the Gurupi region was at first taken down the Gurupi River to Vizeu, a small Brazilian settlement, whence part of it went to Sao Lufs and the rest to Belem. 'it is likely that the Tenetehara of the upper Pindare and the middle Grajau Rivers were also involved in this trade. The production of copafba oil was undertaken by Tenetehara men ^The identification of this tree as well as other items presented can be found in the GLOSSARY.

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199 within the extended family production unit. Copaiba trees are not found in groves but rather individually dispersed in the forest above the annual flood level. They are tapped during the dry season months (June to December) at precisely the same time when gardens need to be cleared. Thus the need for the coordination of these contemporaneous activities by the headman of an extended family is apparent. It is likely that each such production unit claimed the right of usufruct of the trees which it discovered. Inasmuch as copaiba trees are few and far between in a certain area and as a great number of these trees could not be re-tapped the next season, there was a constant need for the dislocation of extended families to new areas of untapped trees. Tenetehara villages therefore, were either small with a more or less permanent location or temporarily large with the potential for fission into smaller settlements The seasonal production of copaiba oil, as well as of jutaicica and Mubreu resins to a lesser extent, gathered by an extended family was traded for iron implements, muzzle-loading guns, powder and shot, and cotton fabrics to make clothes. These commodities became progressively necessary items of Tenetehara culture, having both economic and social dimensions. The trade of copaiba oil was carried out through the headman of the extended family with the Brazilian trader who provided these manufactured commodities. It is unlikely that any Tenetehara man ever became a trader himself or a culture broker, not only because the Tenetehara did not have full knowledge of the market mechanisms at the ' time, but also because the Brazilians had monopoly access to the manufactured commodities coming from the town of Vizeu and other settlements. This lack of full knowledge and this monopoly explain why the value of the Tenetehara production of copaiba oil was so low in comparison

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200 to the value of the trade commodities of the Brazilians. Table 3 shows this discrepancy in values: Table 3. Trade Value of Tenetehara Production in 1862 Tenetehara Traded Price in Bel em R pp p 1 \/prl Price in DC 1 em 1 barrel jl6 kg) of copaiba oil 20$000* 1 piece of cotton for a pair of pants 1$000 3 barrels 60$000 1 muzzle gun 5$000 8 barrels 160$000 1 barrel of gun powder 17$000 Total s : 240$000 23$000 Source: Brusque (1862:202) *20$000 = twenty thousand reis , the Brazilian currency until 1942. This means that the Tenetehara were receiving about 9.5 percent of the value of their copaiba oil in terms of prices in Belem. Even considering the expenses and risks taken by the trader to make these deals (allowing him for example, a 200 percent price increase over what he paid for commodities in Bel^m, and a decrease of 50 percent below the Bel^m price of copafba oil) the Tenetehara were still receiving no more than 40 percent of the market value of their trade goods. Gustavo Dodt (1939) who visited the Gurupi River in 1872 confirms Brusque's information of the degree of exploitation to which the Tenetehara were subjected by Brazilian traders. These traders ( regatoes ) travelled by canoe up and down the Gurupi and other rivers dealing with the headmen of extended families. Some of the traders lived temporarily in Tenetehara

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201 villages in which case they acquired more control over the production of trade goods. At the same time, however, the Tenetehara were beginning to react to their economic control as the competition between traders increased with the increasing demand for copafba oil. Since the Tenetehara lacked the internal mechanism for the concept of exchange-value of their goods and since they were dependent upon these traders for the determination of this value and price, they could not demand better prices or trade values for their goods. But at least the Tenetehara began to demand of the traders the extension of credit prior to the time when copai'ba oil was produced and given to the trader. This was true by 1872, for Dodt (1939:205-211) states that no Tenetehara producer would engage in the trade of copaiba with a Brazilian trader without first receiving a certain amount of trade commodities. This meant that a trader needed to have a larger amount of fluid capital to invest, and thus it is likely that capital became concentrated among fewer traders. It is impossible to determine what actually happened in terms of the value of the Tenetehara trade products between 1862 and 1872 for Dodt does not give exact data on these transactions. On the face of it, it seems that the reputedly smaller number of traders offset the Tenetehara gain in the demand for credit, and thus the value of the Tatter's products remained about the same as in 1852. Furthermore, there are other variables, such as coercion by Brazilians and the increasing knowledge of Brazilian ways and of bargaining, which could sway the trend of Tenetehara trade values one way or another. What remains certain is that the extractive trade economy of the Tenetehara on the Gurupi River became more and more detrimental to them. As a result, the Tenetehara (Tembg) decreased in numbers during the late

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202 nineteenth century and the first decades of this century. Copaiba oil as well as resins and the skins of wild animals continued to have trade value for the Tenetehara along the Pindare and Grajau Rivers throughout the early years of the twentieth century. But as time passed, the Indians became more knowledgeable of the mechanism of trade and as the numbers of Brazilians increased along these river systems, trade in agricultural products also became important. Our best data for the first half of the twentieth century comes from the region of the Pindarg River system. Trade Economies of the Pindare Region By 193& the Tenetehara of the Pindare region lived in some 12 villages, seven along the Pindare River itself and fiveon the lower Zutiua River. There was a population of at least 750 people, perhaps more. The SPI Indian Post, located on the lower Pindare, was in charge of regulating the economic transactions between Tenetehara and Brazilians. Indeed, the Post was supposed to act as intermediary of all such transactions, but in fact much trading went on between Tenetehara and canoe traders and local compradores without the Post's involvement. In contrast to the situation in the nineteenth century it seems that changes in the economy of Maranhao and the presence of the Indian Post had minimized the dichotomy of extractive economy versus agricultural economy on the Pindare River. Babacu nuts, a new extractive product, had become an important economic item in Maranhao. It is principally found in areas of transitional forest, and particularly in areas of secondary forest growth. As far as the Tenetehara were concerned, babafu was found only on the lower Pindare-lower Zutiua area and they,

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203 like the neighboring Brazilians, were increasingly exploiting it. Copaiba oil, found only on the upper Pindare River was as late as the 1920s sold principally on the Gurupi River apparently because canoe transportation on the Pindare River had not become a common event as yet, according to one of Wagley's (1942) informants. The Indian Post's influence on the Tenetehara economy was seemingly due to the fact that it provided the Tenetehara with canoes as part of its economic incentive policy. Thus those upriver villages were able to bring down agricultural products as well as copaiba oil and skins for sale at the Post. Canoe traders, from what we can only presume to be profit motivation, frequently made trips upriver at least through the 1940s. Table 4 shows the sale of products from eight villages of the Pindare and lower Zutiua Rivers for the year 1936. This was recorded by the Indian Post agent and represents only the amount of sale effected through him, thus leaving out extra official deals. Wagley and Galvao (1949:61-62) registered such transactions for the years 1941-42 and there is reason to believe that this was a common occurrence. Table 4. Tenetehara Sales in 1936 Vi 1 lage Price Kri viri (at the Indian Post) 374 kg babasu $800 32 Kg deer skin 10$000 60 wild pig skin 6$000 14 capivara skin 10$000 69 alqueires (30 kg each) . of manioc flour 100 large squash $200 3 guarima baskets 4$000 Total Sale 299$000 320$000 360$000 140$000 414$000 20$000 12$000 1 :565$200

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204 Table 4. Tenetehara Sales in 1936 (Continued) V 1 1 1 d y c Price Total Sale Ilhinha (lower Pindare) 144 kg babagu 17 kg deer skin 13 wild pig skin 45 alqueires manioc 28 "hands" maize $600 10$000 , 7$000 10$000 $500 86$000 170$000 91 $000 450$000 14$000. Pedrinho (upper Pindar^) 811 $000 48 kg jutaicica resin n kg deer skin 8 wild pig skin 6 alqueires tapioca 4 arrobas (15 kg each) tobacco $400 10$000 7$000 14$000 45$000 18$000 noiooo 56$000 84$ 000 180$000 11 guarima baskets 1 nafilllluLNb 4$000 T f & r\r\r\ 1 6$000 44$000 64$000 Gabriel (upper Pindare) 556$000 30 kg jutaicica resin 11 kg deer skin 10 wild pig skin 8 peccary skin 6 alqueires manioc $400 7$000 6$000 8$000 9$000 12$000 77$000 60$000 64$000 54$000 Marcel ino (upper Pindare) 267$000 35 kg deer skin 11 wild pig skin 9 peccary skin 7 alqueires manioc 8 alqueires tapioca 6 arrobas tobacco 7$000 6$000 8$000 10$000 12$000 41$000 245$000 66$000 72$000 70$000 96$000 246$000 rdiineira flower /.utiuaj 795$000 18 kg deer skin 29 wild pig skin 10 peccary skin 1 ocelot skin 1 jaguar skin 8 alqueires manioc 1 arroba tobacco loSooo 1 \J ^ \J \J \J 7$000 8$000 50$000 35$000 5$000 42$000 1 Rn"tnnn 1 OU4)UUU 203$000 80$000 50$000 35$000 40$000 42$000 LimS'o (lower Zutiua) 630$000 12 kg deer skin 18 wild pig skin 2 ocelot skin 10$000 7$000 20$000 120$000 126$000 40$000

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205 Table 4. Tenetehara Sales in 1936 (Concluded) Village Price Total Sale Limao (lower Zutiua) (Continued) 10 alqueires manioc 8$000 80$000 2 arrobas tobacco 38$0Q0 76$000 Ciqana (lower Zutiua) 442$000 12 kg deer skin 10$000 120$000 11 wild pig skin 7$000 • 77$000 4 peccary skin 9$000 36$000 19 baskets 3$600 63$000 296$500 TOTAL: 6:295$000 Source: 1936 Report of the Indian Post agent (in Wagley 1942) Although we cannot estimate the total amount of cash income obtained by the Tenetehara in 1936 because of extra-official deals, we should try to determine the trade balance of the Tenetehara economy, that is, the value of their products in relation to what they were getting. Unfortunately this sales report does not show what articles the Tenetehara bought in return, from whom, and at what price. The total amount of 6:295$000 (six million, two hundred and ninety-five thousand reis, the currency of Brazil until 1942 when it changed to one cruzeiro for 1,000 reis) does not tell us much in terms of buying power. If we compute thus sum in terms of US dollars, at the rate of 17$000to US $1.00 (an estimate derived from the 1942 rate of 20$000 to US $1.00), we would come up with a figure of US $370.00 as a conservative income of eight Tenetehara villages, or some 550 to 600 people for the year 1936. The only other information found in that report is that the price of

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206 skins had increased in September, 1936, and subsequently decreased due to the prohibition of exporting wild game skins, as decreed by the Federal Government (this law has never stopped sale of skins to this date). It should be made clear at this point that the Tenetehara sold extractive forest products and/or agricultural surplus in order to obtain manufactured goods, not for the cash per se. There is no indication that the Tenetehara were making investments from their cash income for further income. Indeed, as far as agricultural products were concerned, Tenetehara producers were carefuT to reserve a portion of their harvest for the next year's planting. When unforseeable events occurred, such as the breaking apart of a village, newcomers would rely on relatives of their new residence area for support while they planted . their own gardens. At times the Indian Post would help, either by gift or credit, with planting seeds, particularly rice. It should also be added that only in a few of the economic transactions recorded by Wagley (1942) and Galvao (1945) do we find mention of prices and purchase of such agricultural implements as axes, machetes, and sickles. This may be because the SPI Post probably distributed gratis such implements on various occasions, a policy we find in effect until about 1963. From ' this we may conclude that the Tenetehara were not ready to transfer their income from sales to a pattern of investment in their economy. This is hardly an unexpected fact for even the neighboring Brazilian peasants lived the same way. When the Tenetehara did now and again receive an extra large amount of money for their products it was spent in "conspicuous consumption." ., . ^ Two points should be made from the data in Table 4. First, that the villages with the largest income were Kriviri and Ilhinha, precisely

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207 those on the lower PindarS near the Brazilian settlements of Santa Ines and Colonial Pimentel and the town of Pindare-Mirim. Baba^u nuts and manioc flour were the most important items for these villages with wild pig and deer skins following behind. The upriver villages, as well as those on the Zutiua River, relied heavily on skins and tobacco. There is no information on copaiba oil sales which may indicate either a decrease in trade at that time or more probably the presence of special, ized copaiba traders and buyers. Second, we can retrieve a list of trade items and their prices from this table which we can use for comparative purposes with similar items for the years 1941-42 and 1945 (Table 5). This will tell us what items changed prices and which remained more or less the same. Obviously inflation played some part in the change of prices, but we cannot tell to what extent. Table 5. Prices of Tenetehara Products , 1936-1945 Item kg babagu kg deer skin wild pig skin peccary skin alqueire manioc alquiere tapioca arroba tobacco kg jutaicica resin alqueire rice barrel of copaiba oil 1936 Prices 1941-42 Prices $600-800 7$-10$000 6$7$000 8$9$000 5,8,9,10$000 12$-14$000 38$-45$000 $400 Source: Wagley (1942) and Galvao (1945) $8001$200 9$000 12$15$000 7$12$000 60$-120$000 6$12$000 1945 Prices 12$000 67$000 56$000 24,40,60$000 18$-40$000 150$000 4$000 70$000 The changes in prices between the years 1936 and 1941-42 tell us very little that cannot be accounted for by inflation or seasonal fluctuations

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208 of the market. We know that the 1$200 price per kg of babafu occurred in 1942 and levelled back to $800-l$000 the fol lowing year. The double and almost triple price jump for tobacco remains unaccountable. Ihe appearance of rice as a trade item is very significant since it came to provide a new source of income, in fact an exclusive source of income since rice was rarely consumed by the Tenetehara themselves. Furthermore, it did not require much extra labor since it can be planted in between rows of manioc shoots. The 1945 prices are more indicative of changes in the trade economy. They show that agricultural products, particularly manioc and tapioca, continued to rise in the market. The 500 percent rise in these prices, however, was due to a great shortage of these products during 1945, apparently throughout the state of Maranhao (Wagley and Galvao 1949:33). ,In the lower Pindard area this shortage was exacerbated partly by the fact that the rise of babagu prices during the war years made many people, including the Tenetehara, neglect their manioc gardens for the extraction of this product. According to Wagley and Galvao (1949:33, 45) food was even imported from Sao Lufs, and there was even some starvation. This shortage of foods was also caused by the rise in the cost of living ' which disrupted the local system of credit (Wagley and Galvao 1949:33). For the Tenetehara this rise in the prices of agricultural products meant an increase in their revenues and consequently a stimulation for increased production. Indeed, this seems to have been the case in many Tenetehara villages. Since an increase in production could not be procured by (an investment in) a more efficient technology of production (fertilizers, mechanization, etc.), nor by the introduction of better seeds, both of which were not available to them, the Tenetehara attempted

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209 to increase production by organizing their labor power. Instead of nuclear families planting their own gardens with the help of kinsmen, several nuclear family groups would jointly clear land and plant. These joint enterprises were organized by the headmen' of an extended family, and he would also serve as liaison with the Indian Post and local traders for the joint crop. This was a pattern particularly found in villages located at a distance from Brazilian settlements for in such villages it would be more efficient for the transportation of trade products to take place in bulk. In villages near towns and settlements, nuclear family production seemed to have continued to be more common. The most successful village that organized its trade economy along the lines of extended family production was known as Camirang, named after its most important headman. This village was located on the upper Pindare River and apparently had been formed by the coming together of several nuclear families of former villages, including that of Gabriel of 1936. Wagley and Galvao (1949:xii) were particularly impressed with Camirang 's ability to organize production by extending kinship ties to many distant kinsmen, thus bringing them into his sphere of influence. According to SPI books, Camirang sold cr$2, 350.00 (US $117.50) worth of copaiba oi 1 , manioc flour, skins, and tobacco in 1942; in 1943 it had decreased to cr$l,076.00 (US $51.00); in 1944 it had shot up to cr$7,188.00 (US $360.00) of which cr$7,000.00 (or US $350.00) had been acquired by the sale of copaiba oil alone (Wagley and GalvSo 1961: 70; 1949:51-62). Such amounts of money as well as the analysis so far carried out can only become significant by complementing it with an analysis of buying power. A list of items which were purchased by the Tenetehara and their prices for the years 1941-42 and 1945. are shown in Table 6.

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210 It should be stated that Wagley and Galvao (1949:33), when describing the rise in the cost of living, mentioned that such indispensable manufactured goods as axes, machetes, and cloth had doubled or tripled their prices by 1945, thus offsetting the increase in revenues. Table 6. Prices of Brazilian goods sold to the Tenetehara, 1941-42, 1945 Item I machete I ax I straight sickle ( cutelo ) 1 small knife I muzzle gun 1 box gun flint "spoonful" gun powder 3 gr. gun powder kg gun powder "spoonful" gun shot kg gun shot m calico ( riscado ) m calico ( chita ) m denim ( mescla ) piece sail cloth (5 m 7) package thread (15 bobs) 2 needles roll cheap thread kg salt kg sugar kg crude soap bottle kerosene box matches comb Source: Wagley (1942) and Galvao (1945) This table shows that indeed prices had almost doubled during this three-year period, particularly those for muzzle gun, fabrics, crude soap, and salt. It is unfortunate that we cannot say the same for other items for lack of data, or in the case of gun powder and shot because the 1941-42 1945 22$-25$000 20$-25$000 10$-r2$000 7$000 110$-13Q$000 10$000 2$3$000 3$900 3$000 4$000 3$00G 4$00G 26$G00 1$000 $800-l$2GG 3$G00 4$0GG $3G0 4$00G 2$G00 25G$-300$GG0 5$8$G00 40,60,50$000 2G,12,15$00G 5$6$000 5$7$0G0 14$4G0 2,2$50G,3$0GG $3GG 1$6GG 5$00G 5$GGG $5G0

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available measures are not comparable. It is not possible to tell what a "spoonful" of shot or gun powder means in terms of weight. Obviously the 13 grams of gun powder were sold in retail and for a very high price; the total amount of 1,000 grams, equivalent to 1 kg, would have come to 300$000--at least four times the price in 1945. Once again our purpose of calculating the overall trade balance (i.e., the relationship between the total market value of what the Tenetehara sold and the total market value of what they obtained in return) of the Tenetehara trade economy cannot be concluded with precision. But in comparison to the situtation in 1862 (see Table 1), this balance was much more favorable to the Tenetehara. Whereas in 1863, it took the sale of one barrel of copaiba oil to obtain material for one pair of cotton pants, in 1945 the proportion had reversed to one barrel of copafba oil to seven pairs of cotton (denim) pants (at 2 1/2 m of material per pair of pants; See Tables 5 and 6). Although there rarely existed a cash surplus from this trade, the cash derived from the sale of copafba oil, babagu nuts, rice, manioc flour, tapioca, tobacco, . and skins seems to have been more than sufficient to buy such commodities as guns, gun powder and shot, fabrics, crude soap, kerosene, salt and the like. We are bearing in mind, of course, that the Indian Post was distributing gratis machetes and axes, as Wagley and Galvao (1961: 49) witnessed on one occasion. The reason why a trade surplus balance, either in cash or in extra commodities was so rare and in the cases of some Tenetehara families even non-existent, is found in the trade mechanisms, i.e., the relations between seller and buyer. In my analysis of the trade economies of the nineteenth century trade, whether carried out through canoe traders or

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212 local compradores, was essentially based on patron-client relationships. This pattern continued until very recently., despite the efforts of SPI/FUNAI Indian' agents. It was the dominant pattern during the period in question. The patron-client relationship apparently was not limited to the towns and settlements where the Tenetehara might go to trade, but existed also in a network of intermediaries located in strategic places near or even in Tenetehara villages. Such intermediaries were representatives of local compradores with whom of course they were engaged in patronclient relationships. The intermediaries could be canoe traders, generally for the villages along the Pindare River or mule traders ( viageiros ) for the most distant villages along the Zutiua River which were serviced by a cattle trail that went from the town of Mongao on the lower Pindare River way up to Amarante and to Carolina on the Tocantins River. In the villages near Brazilian settlements, intermediaries were themselves local farming peasants who probably also served the same function for other Brazilian peasants. In addition, there were intermediaries who lived in Tenetehara villages. These were either Tenetehara Indians who were headmen of extended families or Brazilians who had married Tenetehara women. In one case a Tenetehara extended family headman was given charge of bringing otherTenetehara villagers into the orbit of his patron, thus competing with other, intermediaries. Figures 5 and 6 show graphically the network of patron-client relationships and how it operated in terms of settlements and villages in the 1930s and 1940s. This Tenetehara intermediary was given credit in the form of fabrics, gun powder and shot, gun flint, and machetes in exchange

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213 for mainly rice but also manioc flour which he was expected to obtain from the villages on the middle Zutiua River. However, because of a rumor that forest Timbira Indians were attacking those villages, this man never made the necessary trips to trade, and consequently remained in debt to his patron (actually patroness). Apparently his debt was not extremely large for he was planning to pay up by selling his own rice. Figure 5. Network of Traders in the Pindare Region Major Comprador Comprador Comprador Tenetehara Source: Taken from Wagley (1942) and Galvao (1945)

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214 Figure 6. Network of Settlements and Village Areas Pindarg-Mirim Middle Zutiua Villages Source: Taken from Wagley (1942) and Galvao (1945) The extent to which the possible positive surplus trade balance of the Tenetehara trade economy was offset by the patron-client relationships and the debt-credit mechanisms involved in these relationships is illustrated by Table 7. This table contains the transactions of four Tenetehara headmen of nuclear families who were living in Lagoa Comprida (about a five hour walk from Colonia Pimentel on the lower Zutiua River, and near the small settlements of Naja and Morada Nova). Part A of Table 7 concerns transactions with intermediaries who had their own patrons in Santa Ines and Colonia Pimentel, and part B, unfortunately rather short, has to do with direct transactions with local compradores of those settlements. It should be noted that the transactions of Joao in part A are not shown in detail as I did for the others. The reason for this was simply to save space as Joao had

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215 oooooooooooooooooooooo oooooooooooooooooooooo OOOOOCMOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO b^ -t^ -eq-fa^ -fe^}^ w -fao-be-fa^ ^ -(^ -be-bq-fc^ w uDOuooLnooLnLnooi — criLnoi-ncoirjocnoLr) CM 1— CM 1— r— CM CM CM o o o o o o o o o o CM o o o o fa's<^-b^-b<^ faoO O Ln CTl CM CM T3 CD > O c/i c: o •r— +-) U ro ShfO sro jr QJ +-> O) C Q) O QJ SO) o c CD QJ s_ 03 I — a OJ E CU s I/) CV. , — .. E E E E E E UD CM ro CM ^CM o o -C o s: to o •4-> 00 QJ r— c O CM c: 1/1 o — 'CM r— :3 1 — •St o o O CnT3 o O ro u •T— E c E u E o QJ •1 — in r— QJ fO •1 — *l — *I~ o +-> CZ c: 1 — c: QJ ro O +J CU N 5ra QJ o ro QJ x: O (/I O u OJ "O N QJ to E "O -C o o -a QJ tj U ra CD +-> :3 -o to •1 — -M ra 'r— 0) Q) QJ QJ E QJ E E '1 — OJ QJ a; E o u O n3 fO CJ o O QJ Mu u fO +-> Q) QJ O so QJ 5 CL QJ -o CM o QJ QJ CJ -a o +J n3 *i — QJ cn r— '1 — x: X sz Ci. CL E to E cx C 'q. E E E (/I o ro E to +J n3 ro 1 — CD r— tn CM ro O 1 CO O LjJ O (0 o o o o CO +-> ro 0) -~E O +-> QJ 13 •rJD o — cn SQJ -1O T3 =3 SO QJ O-i Q) O .— c: ra s_ -foetsj •rX3 O N — ro QJ Ln :3 X3 =3-^ E O cr I — o O cni — cn-o ro O O rc -rI — O -bqQ. O LO -b^ O O CO I — LO I — CM I — I — J3 a o o (J ro J2 O 4-> QJ QJ cr — o c^(J :3 3 3 cn (J Oi tJi ro ro ro ra ro J3 X! J3 J3 i — O ro ro to ro ^ +J XI J3 JO r1— O Cn Cn CD Cjii — 1 — O jsc: jid ^ o o o o o o o Ln CM I — CM 1 — 1 — 1— — O o o o o o o O -b=>o O b^ 1— LO Ln •faqb=>CU hLn o 4-= ro ro CO •1 — ro LD iJ:^: =3 QJ 3 to Ol (Ji ro •1 — ro Sro QJ -Q Qj ra -M ro QJ -Q O CT -Q T3 +J CD rC ro +-> -p LD CM 00 o CM to CM CM LU 1— QJ O TD -a ro s_ f— to Raim rQJ 23 cr ro Ol ro Ol 13 O J3 £3 CJ ro rd •r— h> s: 2: ro ro •rre to 00 QJ CO to o O X O ro i+-> o •p+J N 01 •r— x: QJ o T" 13 r— QJ o QJ o c: 1— QJ o ro U. +J U_ +-> r— o U_ tn 0) LO to +-> ro -o O O r— to Q) 4-1 O o i_ sl to s_ c: o ro T3 ro CD S= ro -a -a QJ Q) > QJ > ro E QJ Q) -(-> Q_ LU o. UJ <: s: o ro 00 E rd SCU Q) o CJ O 5^ o •I — •1 — LO u ssrd XI OJ QJ O iSCQ +J •r— •1 — QJ QJ O +-> Z5 O Scr cr O rd o r™ Q. s_ ro ro CO CO Ln r" to QJ E E 1 — 1 CU E rd "r— -l-> QE rd • 00 O 00 rd ro E X < OJ • C/1 Q O E E VCU CL o o 3 O C Jro ro O -M SrO QJ 3 ro > CsJ OJ cn T3 ro S_ 1— >. QJ O cn ro QJ 3 CD rd +-> E QJ QJ O CJ 1. s_ QJ O d.

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216 transactions with some ten intermediaries at different periods of time in 1941-42. The total computations in Table 7 come from the actual prices obtained for what was sold (last column), and from the possible value of what was sold, had the Tenetehara sellers been able to charge the market price for their products. These market prices were estimated from Table 5, as follows: 1 alqueire (30 kg) rice 6$000 1 kg babagu 1$000 1 alqueire (30 kg) manioc 6$000 1 kg tobacco 6$000 These were the main products sold and in the great majority of cases the prices paid by the patrons were considerably lower. The prices of other products were computed as charged in the transactions. For example, two pigs were sold by two different Tenetehara, one for 30$000, the other for 50$000. The price of "fixing the butt of a muzzle gun" was computed as 7$000 or about twice the daily wage in 1941-42 (cf. Wagley and Galvao 1961:47), while the prices of "making a pair of pants" and an "old muzzle gun" were computed in terms of what was exchanged for them. Thus the final computations of prices are, in my view, fairly accurate. We can immediately see from the total computations of the prices of what were given and the prices of what were received that the Tenetehara were not getting full value for their products. In fact, for part A the Tenetehara were receiving only 65 percent of the value of their products according to current market prices, whereas in part B the percentage was 75. Altho-ugh the data for part B are considerably smaller than for part A, nevertheless I believe that they indicate a pattern. The logic of economics would indicate that the presence of

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217 intermediaries, who themselves are looking for profit and are taking risks, does lower the exchange ratio of the Tenetehara trade economy. One more point should be made. The Tenetehara were aware that they could obtain better prices for their products if they went directly to Colonia Pimentel, Santa Ines, or Pindare-Mi rim. Their failure to do so frequently may be due to convenience (lack of transportation and feelings of inadequacy when facing town dwellers) and probably also to the fact that there were certain social benefits in linking oneself to a Brazilian intermediary living nearby. The existence of fifteen odd intermediaries with whom the Tenetehara traded shows that the Tenetehara had a certain amount of choice in trading partners. In fact, one Tenetehara, not shown in the above table, voiced his opinion that if "so and so" paid only 5$000 per alqueire of manioc flour he would go down to Colonia Pimentel where he could certainly get a better price. Another, upset by an unfulfilled promise from a mule trader, had vouched that he no longer would make deals with such people (Wagley 1942). It is not possible to follow up the' trade balance and percentage value of the Tenetehara trade economy to 1945. The data we have available for that year are not as detailed as for 1941-42. Moreover, the data we have available concerns mainly two villages of the upper Pindare for which we have little data for 1941-42. The upper Pindare villages traded in bulk. Once or twice a year a cargo was organized by the headman of an extended family or the official leader of several such units who brought it down in two or three canoes to trade in Colonia Pimentel. Thus they would obtain generally better prices than those of the lower Pindare and lower Zutiua River. But occasionally canoe traders would go up to these villages, and as expected, there

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218 was considerable decrease in the trade balance for the Tenetehara. The lower prices for manioc flour and tapioca shown earlier in Table 6 come from data concerning transactions with such traders. Our economic data for the Tenetehara of the Pindare region ends in 1945. I will attempt to explain the present (1975) situation of the remaining Tenetehara of that region mainly from sociological inferences of the developments in that region since that time. As already noted earlier, there remain only about 250 Tenetehara located on the Indian reservation of the lower Pindare, and perhaps 80 others in three villages on the upper Pindare (Caru) reservation. For each area there is an Indian Post whose main functions nowadays seem to consist of trying to ward off invaders of the reservations and to offer a certain amount of medical services to the Tenetehara. The former policy of "protecting" the economic interest of the Indians is practically nonexistent. In 1945 when Eduardo Galvao returned to the region to get further data on the Tenetehara, the inherent tensions involved in the organization of villages into extended family production units found on the upper Pindare seemed to have begun to take their toll. The village of ' Camirang had split into three groups because two other headmen of extended families became distrustful of Camirang's apparent mishandling of the village's trade economy. Galvao reported (personal communication) that Camirang had begun to assume "airs of a minor despot," including the acquisition of a large number of wives, "perhaps as many as eight," an unprecedented number in Tenetehara society. He tried to dress well, sporting sail cloth suits, panama hats, and a wrist watch (he is said to have been unable to read time). He had acquired a portable record

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219 player and a few records of current popular songs, indeed at that time a very expensive item. (All of this was reaffirmed to me by several informants of the Pindare Indian Post when I visited the area in 1975). In short, Camirang was using the "large" trade surplus obtained from the sale of copafba oil for "conspicuous consumption." The use of this term of course does not imply that Camirang had become a "capitalist, in the sense used by Veblen. On the contrary, it is used as a convenient term to dramatize the fact that the Tenetehara trade economy was essentially unable to grow beyond the level of subsistence trade, that is, trade for the few essential items. The mechanisms of generalized reciprocity within and between production units of the Tenetehara internal economy together with the patron-client economic relations of the trade economy foreclosed any possibility of the use of surplus for capital investment. Indeed it is contended here that this surplus disrupted the previous social economic organization of the Tenetehara based on independent, self-sufficient family units (whether nuclear or extended) linked to each other by ties of kinship and economic reciprocity and the demands of that culture's rituals. The process of disruption of those villages followed a full cyclic development: trade economic opportunities led to the formation of large economic units of production organized through pooling of the labor products of extended family units and capitalized by a leader, the headman of one of these units. The functional limit of such organization was reached with a high trade surplus and its partial alienation for conspicuous consumption. As a result of the alienation of other production units, this organization disintegrated, reverting to the original independent family organization. This analysis does not, however, explain the fact that thirty

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220 years later there were only 80 people in that area (and at least one third of those people came from somewhere else). If the explanation is simply that of a cyclic phenomenon we should expect that the cycle could be restarted. One reason why this did not happen in the upper Pindare area may have been because that basis of the trade economy of the Tenetehara had completely collapsed: in other words, copafba oil ceased being a trade item either because the resources were exhausted or because prices fell, or perhaps because local compradores were no longer buying it. We know, however, that copafba oil continued to be exploited by the Tenetehara. of the upper Zutiua area and was sold to compradores fromGrajauas late as 1957. If the copafba oil market indeed stopped for the Tenetehara of the upper Pindare in the early 1950s,' then instead of postulating a cycl ic explanation for the disruption of those villages based on high trade surplus, we should perhaps look at the possibility of a decrease in trade surplus as the reason for this disruption. The decrease in the production of copafba oil occurred concomitantly with a decrease in the production of agricultural goods for trade purposes. Thus the decline in population of the Tenetehara of both the upper and lower Pindare areas was partly caused by the breakdown of their trade economies. In both cases the increase of the Brazilian population in the region really accelerated this process. Brazilian peasants began to move into this region in progressively larger numbers after the end of World War II. They began to compete with the Tenetehara not only for lands but also for credit. As was the case in the 1940s, the Brazilian peasant was more productive than the Tenetehara Indian, and as federal credit agencies (particularly SUDENE after 1958) came on the

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221 scene, the peasants were able to acquire needed credit and easier terms than through patron-clientships. The pressure against their lands together with the difficulty in obtaining credit hastened the decline of agricultural production for trade. Dependent as they were on manufactured commodities the Tenetehara began to rely more and more on the production of baba^u nuts. As a result, the nuclear family production unit became all important in detriment to extended family and communal (or village) production units. ' In the upper Pindare area the majority of the Tenetehara moved down to the lower Pindare by the middle of the 1950s. And elsewhere on the lower Pindare where there were no groves of babagu trees, the Tenetehara villages began to lose cohesion both socially and economically. Through economic necessity, nuclear families became attached to Brazilian peasants and/or comprador-landowners in a more dependent way than ever before. This process of attachment is known in the region as " apadrinhagem , or "becoming godchild to someone." It is a variation of patron-clientship in which total economic dependency is involved, including credit and the loss of ownership of land. Thus, as nuclear families moved off out of their villages, the social and ritual elements of village cohesion, particularly the matter of descent (marriage), labor exchange, rites of passage for boys and girls, and the performance of the Honey Feast, were neglected and forgotten. This process of deculturation intensified through the 1960s as cross-cultural marriages became more corrmon, with the added fact that the new couples would live among Brazilians. Nowadays the 250 Tenetehara living in the estimated 40,000 hectares of land on the Pindare reservation obtain trade commodities generally through the production

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222 of babaqu nuts. As of 1975, babagu nuts were sold at a price of cr$1.50 per kilo, which is equivalent to the retail price of 1 1/2 kg of salt (or in comparative terms just about what it was in 1942). Usually only women produce babagu nuts, an average of six to ten kilos per day. Converted into cash, this amounts to about the standard daily wage of a rural worker in the area, or cr$15.00. This contrasts unfavorably with the ratio of a kilo of babagu nuts to the daily wage in 1942 which was cr$1.00 to cr$2.50 (See Wagley and Galvao 1949:33; 1961:47). Thus the Tenetehara nuclear families of this area must at least own small subsistence gardens and occasionally work as wage laborers. But those families that can still be organized as extended family units rely on other means of cash income such as the renting of lands to Brazilian peasants or the renting of rights to exploit the babagu groves of the reservation. Due to the recent prohibition of this practice by FUNAI it is likely that the trade economy of the area is going to depend more and more on babagu nuts. On the other hand, given the increasing high prices of rice and manioc flour it is possible that a resurgence of agricultural production may take place--barring the eventuality of loss of land. The 80 Tenetehara of the (upper Pindare) Caru Indian Post are living in three villages which are located within a large reservation area (perhaps as large as 1,500,000 acres of land) which is also the home of some 420 Urubu-Kaapor Indians, and perhaps 100-150 Guaja Indians. There is no economic articulation between these Indian groups, but there is an undeterminate number of Brazilian peasants, including a settlement with over 1,000 people located on the fringes of the reservation. It is very likely that the Tenetehara are engaging in economic transactions

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223 with this settlement, much as they did on the lower Pindare in the 1940s although I do not have precise data to state this with assurance. The trade economy of these Tenetehara seems to be based on agricultural products, as is the economy of the Brazilian settlement of the area. There is no copafba oil exploitation, but lumber has become important in the last four or five years. This information came to me only accidentally when I witnessed a complaint from a Tenetehara Indian at the FUNAI Regional Office in Sao LuTs, to the effect that Brazilians were exploiting cedro woods in alleged reservation land without the permission of the Indians or of FUNAI. I could not determine whether rent was charged of Brazilians who had asked permission, or whether this complaint had arisen simply from concern for the protection of their land resources. It is unlikely that the Tenetehara themselves are involved in the lumber industry for FUNAI knows nothing about that. In contrast to the important role wich the SPI played in the creation of a lumber industry operated by the Tenetehara of Bacurizinho in the 1950s, FUNAI offers no economic incentives for Such a potential industry in this region, such as credit in the form of saws and transportation facilities. Trade Economies in the Gra.jau Region In contrast to the Tenetehara of the Pindare region, the Tenetehara population o^the Grajau region has doubled since the 1940s. The main reason for this lies in the fact that the Brazilian population of this region has not increased as dramatically as that in the Pindare. The economy of Grajau had always been less dynamic than that of Pindare. Furthermore, until recently it had neither the infrastructure to grow

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224 nor the economic aid of the Brazilian government. Thus inspite of the fact that the Tenetehara trade economies of Grajau were organized in similar lines of production and trade relations as in Pindare, they never collapsed in times of decline of market demands for particular goods because they could revert to low levels of agricultural production for trade. And if periodically Tenetehara nuclear families became attached through apadrinhagem relationships to Brazilian landowners, they could and always did return to their lands in better times. The first economic information we have about the Grajau Tenetehara dates from the 1920s. At that time the Tenetehara of the upper Mearim River were engaged in producing manioc flour, tapioca, lumber and cotton for sale in the town of Barra do Corda (Abreu 1931). Part of this production was sold to traders who had their residence in Barra do Corda. One interesting incident witnessed by Abreu (1 931:140)shows that this trade was carried out through patron-client relations.. A Tenetehara man visiting Barra do Corda became enchanted with the dummy figure of the bull used in the bumba-meu-boi festivities traditional of such towns . as Barra do Corda. He promptly "purchased" it from its owner who was a local store owner. However, this purchase was made totally on credit ' to be repaid with the products of his gardens. Abreu (1931:142) remarks that this form of credit-debt relation was quite common and that it would place the debtor "forever" in the hands of his creditor. In addition to these agricultural products, beans, fava beans, squashes, corn, and game meat were also produced for trade and sold in other towns, such as Grajau and Amarante (the latter only became the seat of a municipio in the 1950s). According to my informants, the surplus of agricultural production was the main source of income with

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225, which to acquire manufactured goods. During the period between 1920 and 1950 this production was organized through extended family units. Agricultural products that were not sold to traders were taken on burros to the towns. The little lumber that was produced consisted of logs which were cut down and shipped down to Barra do Corda. Lumber production was also organized by headmen of extended families. Wild game skins were sold to traders and compradores, an activity performed on the level of nuclear family production without the intermediary role of the headmen. Also outside the supervision of the headmen was the hiring of one's labor to the owners of canoes. The details of this operation were presented in Chapter VI. Suffice it to say that the Tenetehara who hired themselves out for such hazardous work were generally men between the ages of 18 and 40 years. This age span comprises the age group of young married men who are still living matrilocally and thus under the supervision of headmen, and the age group of middle age married men who are trying to make it on their own as future headmen. Thus although the small wage of cr$30.00 (or 30$000 before 1942) per round trip could only buy a change of clothes for one's nuclear family, it nonetheless brought new status to the earner. On these trips he would acquire personal knowledge of Brazilian ways, and thus the experience for headmanship of a future extended family unit. Most of the present headmen of the villages of Bacurizinho, Ipu, Taiado, Olho d' Agua, and Lagoa Comprida, located in the Bacurizinho Indian Post area, were former canoe paddle-pushers. The end of cash income from the canoe business, which was abolished around 1950, was succeeded by new sources of income, most of which were organized directly by the SPI agent in Grajau. During times of high

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226 productivity of these new resources, agricultural production suffered a slump both in terms of surplus for trade and for subsistence purposes. The production of these new resources, however, continued for the most part to be organized by extended family units. In the region of the upper Zutiua area, the SPI agent living in Grajau organized several Tenetehara headmen to extract copafba oil, jutaicica and jatoba resins, almecega wax, cumaru nuts, and to obtain wild skins. In the Bacurizinho area where such forest products were rare or non-existent but where there was an abundance of cedro and other hardwoods, several Tenetehara men were given charge of four large handsaws with which to cut and prepare the logs into lumber, posts, and house poles. As the lumber industry progressed there, the Grajau agent was asked by another village on the Grajau River to do the same for them, but the SPI commissioner in Sao Lufs vetoed the project. In the Guajajara Indian Post near Barra do Corda, the Tenetehara continued to produce only agricultural surplus, and whatever wild skins they, could procure. The SPI agent there was actually involved with an agricultural colony set up by the Federal Government for the peasants of the region. Furthermore, he also had to contend with the two Canella villages of the region, so that he had little time to organize the Tenetehara like his colleague in Grajau. The organization of the extractive trade production of the Tenetehara of the upper Zutiua and Bacurizinho took considerable time and effort on the part of the SPI agent, particularly in dealing with the bureaucratic difficulties emanating from the commissioner's office in Sao Lufs. The SPI agent, who himself owned some land and a trade store in Grajau, worked very hard because he was profiting from the Indian production. In the matter of the lumber industry he was supposed to be

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227 merely an agent of the SPI, and the Indian production (the only one of the kind in the area) was to be sold to the SPI or through it. A rather voluminous correspondence ensued between the Grajau agent and the SPI commissioner concerning the lumber industry and other extractive goods acquired by the SPI. . The lumber industry started in February, 1954, and in June, ten dozen boards had been prepared and transported from Bacurizinho to the town of Barra do Corda by the SPI truck. At the end of the year nearly 170 dozen boards had been prepared and were ready to be transported. Some of it was taken by the Tenetehara themselves down the Mearim River to Barra do Corda (whence it would be shipped down to Sao Luis) while ' the rest was taken by truck to that town. With the existing difficulties and delays of transportation the lumber business quickly peaked in 1955 and stopped abruptly in 1957. Exhaustion of cedro woods was probably one reason but the fact that the Grajau agent had to move out temporarily from his post also played a part. In April, 1955, the Grajau agent wrote up a series of receipts of payment to several Tenetehara lumbermen, and an equivalent series of receipts of sale to the SPI Regional Office in Sao Luis. Table 8 illus-' trates the discrepancy of these receipts and the profit which the agent accrued from it. It is likely that the receipt of sale of 427 boards at cr$25.00 was an error on the part of the agent. There was an agreement between the agent and the commissioner that the SPI would pay the former cr$40.00 per board. Thus his profit should have been larger than it shows, in fact, cr$15.00 per board, or 40 percent over the price he paid the Tenetehara producers. This percentage of trade value (i.e. 60 percent) of Tenetehara production contrasts somewhat unfavorably with

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228 the same percentage presented in Table 7 (65 percent and 75 percent), but quite favorably with that presented in Table 3 (9.5 percent) for the year 1862. ^^^'^^ Receipts of Purchase and Sale of Lumber, April 1955 Item 2,827 boards Purchase from Tenetehara Price cr$25.00 Amount Paid cr$75,625.00 Item 2,400 boards 427 boards TOTAL: Sale to SPI Regional Office Price Amount Paid ct"$40.00 cr$96,000.00 cr$25.00 cr$10, 675.00 cr$106,675.00 Total Profit: cr$31 ,050.00 Average Rate of Profit per board: cr$11.00 Source: SPI agent in Grajau, personal files, The Grajau agent, of course, had his own expenses with this business, although not in transportation as that was paid by the SPI. Among his expenses there was the annual food bill which Tenetehara visiting Grajau accrued upon him. This food bill was calculated by the agent at about cr$2,555.00 in 1953 and cr$2,836.00 in 1954, but despite his charging it to the SPI, he seems not to have received any of it. The SPI commissioner, who was a good friend of the agent, seemed to have the quite

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229 correct view that such expenses were part of the agent's patron-client relationship with the Indians of the region. It seems that 1955 was the golden year of the Tenetehara lumber industry for in 1956 the agent recorded only the purchase of 50 house poles at cr$50.00 a piece. In 1957, the agent himself bought 40 boards and 26 posts for his own use. Apparently the SPI headquarters in Rio had given up on this project. But the Tenetehara continued to produce lumber to sell on demand to the Grajau townspeople. With the lack of transportation facilities, the Tenetehara lumbermen are reported by the Grajau agent to have brought lumber on their heads from the village of Bacurizinho located at a distance of 30 km from Grajau! It is impossible to determine the value of the Tenetehara labor spent on the lumber production because the amount of time spent on it could not be ascertained. The Tenetehara themselves had no choice but to accept the price imposed on them by the agent or the local demand (which seemed to have been the same). Of course, this situation is repeated not only for other kinds of Tenetehara trade economies elsewhere, but also for the Brazilian peasants themselves. The sum of cr$75, 675. 00 obtained in 1955 was equivalent to the total price of 150 muzzle loading guns (at about cr$500. 00 a piece). To compare this sum with the equivalent amount in 1975, with the price of a muzzle loading gun at cr$130.00, the figure would be cr$19,500.00. At the July, 1975, exchange rate of cr$8.00 per US $1.00, the equivalent in dollars would be US $2,187.50. Whether or not this illustrative ' computation is valid, it nevertheless gives an idea of the amount of money earned by some 15 Tenetehara men in one year's time. Part of this money never reached the Tenetehara producers as it was

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230 "lost" to the SPI agent as part of the credit system. The rest of it was used to buy commodities in the patrons' stores. In one case for < which records have remained, a Tenetehara man is listed as having received cr$5,000.Q0 for the sale of 200. boards. However, this man told me that he actually received a four-bass accordion for 144 boards, and the rest in fabrics, sewing thread, sandals, and shoes as the equivalent for 56 boards. -Now, 144 boards should have brought cr$3,600.00 or the equivalent of seven muzzle loading guns. In 1975, such an accordion cost from cr$300.00 to 400.00, or the price of three muzzle loadi ng guns. Another part of this income was capitalized by an enterprising Tenetehara man named Virgilio. Although the son of a headman of a large extended family, he was too young when his father died so that the leadership of this extended family was taken over by one of his older brother-in-laws who himself formed a new unit, Virgilio had married a woman with few kinsmen in his village so that he was quite short of in-laws with whom to organize an extended family. In addition he was only 24 years old in 1955 and therefore has no possibilities of creating an extended network of dependent relatives. Nevertheless, he had learned to read and write as a child with the help of an English missionary who lived in his village between 1930 and 1940. When the opportunity for the lumber production arose he was one of the first Tenetehara men to become involved with the SPI agent. Soon he was organizing other men to cut lumber for him by extending credit to them. He then set up a small trade store stocked with manufactured goods which he obtained on credit from the agent. His fellow Tenetehara bought heavily on credit at retail prices much higher than in Grajau. The basis for the functioning of this store was clearly the boom of the lumber industry

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231 for when the boom busted in 1955 due to lack of support from the SPI (since local demand for lumber was small), so did the store. The debts that had been piled up both on the part of Virgilio to his creditor in Grajau and to creditors among the Tenetehara, and on the part of the Tenetehara to the store, remained unpaid. Shortly afterwards, at the request of the Grajau agent, Virgilio moved to the upper Zutiua area to organize the production of extractive forest goods. He returned to Bacurizinho in 1966 and in 1972, with the rise of the handicraft boom, he once again became a key figure of this trade economy. Thus the lumber industry was organized through the nuclear family .unit. Besides Virgilio there were some ten or fifteen other men who are listed in the records of the Grajau agent. The extended family unit continued to produce agricultural surplus through this period and afterwards until the early 1970s. Many members of the extended families in fact hardly ever became involved in producing lumber, one of the reasons being that there were only four handsaws available in the village. Meanwhile, in the upper Zutiua area the trade economy had become one of exclusively extractive forest products: copafba oil, jutaicica and jatoba" resins, almecega wax, cumaru nuts, and wild skins. Because of difficulties of transportation and the long distance between this area and Grajau, the agricultural trade economy had practically stopped. Nevertheless, the production of these extractive goods was done by extended family units, partly because such production can be done efficiently by the extended family, and partly because the Tenetehara of this region had had less contact with Brazilians and few of them could be counted as reliable by the SPI agent and other Brazilians. Beginning in 1952 or earlier, the main patron to the Indians of

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232 that area (and here the Ge Krikati and Gaviao are included) was the Grajau agent. He dealt both directly and indirectly with his clients. He travelled extensively to Indian villages where he would arrange transactions and exhort the Indians to watch "his" cumaru trees, "his" copafba trees, "his" ocelot skins, and the like. The agent also had three or four intermediaries who were SPI functionaries in three strategic villages. Two of them were part-Tenetehara , and one other was his own sister who had married a Tenetehara. Notwithstanding this advantage, the agent had competition from other small itinerant traders who at times offered better prices for the Indian's products than his intermediaries could afford without losing their commission's profits. For example, in March, 1954, the agent sent to one of his intermediaries a list of the prices he was willing to pay for various extractive goods. With these prices he made many deals throughout 1954, but we have record only of four. His intermediary, however, wrote him in May and later in November saying, in the first letter, that traders were offering better prices for ocelot skins and, in the second letter, that the traders' prices for most of the products were enticing Indians away from him. Table 9 shows some of the transactions between the agent and Indians (direct transactions) or between the agent's intermediaries and the Indians (indirect transactions), as well as the prices offered to the Indians by the agent, and his competitors. The intermediary may have been exaggerating the traders' competition, probably to get a raise in his commission, for despite his warning that the competitive price for ocelot skin was cr$560.00 in November, 1954, the agent offered him no more than cr$500.00 two months later. Another point that helped dispense with competition in the area is the fact that these traders

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233 were rather small local peasants with few if any trade goods to enter into patron-client relationships with the Tenetehara. They were treated by , the Tenetehara as compadres (co-fathers), a term that implies a relationship of mutual dependency but also equality in that area. Table 9. Local Price Offers for Indian Products in 1954 Agent's offer price No. of transactions ^^^""^h 1954) (D:direct; I:indirect) Competitor's prices Deer skin cr$23.00 8 (D) cr$30 00 peccary skin 28.00 20 (,D (327.00) 5 (I:@30.00) 3o'oO wild pig skin 25.00 11 (D and I) 26*00 ocelot skin 400.00 (500.00 in Jan. 1955) 450.00 (May); (560.00 Nov) peludo skin 40.00 -v j' / ' \ ^uv; anaconda skin 8.00 1 (3 m long) Ijaguar skin 80.00 2 teju skin 10.00 barrel copafba 230.00 22 (I); 3 1/2 (D) 300.00 (Nov) jatob^ resin (kg) 2.50 500 kg (D (32.00) ;2, 300 kg (I) 3.00 Nov alm^cega (kg) 1.50 -__ Source: SPI agent in GrajaCi, personal file. The agent's capital, on the other hand, was quite considerable for not only did he have a trade store, but he was also fortified with SPI money (for lumber transactions and apparently to some extent for copafba and resins which the SPI was buying). Moreover, between 1953 and 1956 the SPI made many donations of axes, machetes, and sickles to the Tenetehara which the agent most probably used to strengthen his patron status. In his 1954 annual report to the SPI commissioner, the Grajad agent claimed that the Indians extracted about 3,742 (undiscriminated kinds of) skins, two (metric)tons of copafba oil, five tons of jatoba resin.

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234 and three tons of almecega wax, besides 2,168 units of lumber from the Bacurizinho area. This considerable amount of extractive production goods cannot be entirely an exaggeration for in his 1957 annual report he listed 1,468 deer skins, 2,146 peccary skins, 1,082 wild pig skins, 48 ocelot skins, 200 kg of copaiba oil, 100 kg of cumaru nuts, and five tons of jutaicica resin. What is important in this comparison is that copaiba, jatoba, and almecega declined or totally disappeared while cumaru and jutaicica came into unprecedented prominence. We cannot account for the disappearance of jatoba and almecega from the last report for their prices seemed to have remained stable at cr$11.00 and cr$13.00 per kilo, respectively, during 1955, but it may have dropped subsequently. The price of jutaicica rose from cr$8.00 to cr$11.00 per kilo between March and November, 1955. Copaiba oil was at one point in 1955 cr$55.00 per kilo, but had declined to cr$40.00 at year's end; this trend may have continued from then on. The rise of cumaru nuts, however, was most impressive, going from cr$15.00 to cr$55.00 per kilo in that same period of time. Thus the 100 kg reported in 1957 was probably understated. (We have no concrete data for 1956 for in that year's report the agent merely says that there was a "very large production of skins, cumaru nuts, copaiba oil, and the resins."). To give an idea of the profit margin earned by the agent on the sale of these products bought from the Tenetehara we can compare the prices of Table 9 with those presented in Table 10. But we should note that the latter prices were for 1955 and therefore the agent may have paid better prices for the Tenetehara's products in that year than those shown in Table 9 for 1954. This is regrettably the best that can be done in terms of a comparison since the agent apparently left

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235 no accounts of his transactions with the Tenetehara for 1955, Table 10. Prices obtained by the Grajau agent Item Copafba (kg) Jutaicica (kg) Jatoba (kg) Cumaru (kg) Almecega (kg) Deer skin Peccary skin Wild pig skin Ocelot skin Peluda skin Pintadinho skin Teju skin Anaconda skin (meter) Prices obtained by the Grajau agent cr$55. 00-40. 00 8.00-11 .00 11.00 15.00-55.00 13.00 65.00-50.00-55.00 (1956) 85.00 60.00 1 ,300.00-700.00-800.00-1 ,300.00 210.00-150.00 150.00-100.00 20.00-30.00 11.00 Sold to local buyers 50.00 50.00 900.00 100.00 100.00 15.00 6,00 If we compare the price differences of the products found in both Table 9 and Table 10 we will arrive at the fact that the Tenetehara were getting only 40 percent of the prices of their products as obtained by the Grajau agent. This percentage contrasts unfavorably with the trade economies of Pindare and Bacurizinho. I need only say a few words about how the agent disposed of his goods. He had four or five buyers in Belem, Sao Lufs, Fortaleza, and Recife, and it was from the correspondence between them that these prices are known. In the case of the first five items above the buyer was from Belem and these prices were paid upon delivery. Transportation cost quite a lot and in this case the SPI truck or the air service was of no avail. In one recorded letter the agent wrote to a buyer in Sao Lufs saying that although he had an offer from Belem for cr$45.00 per kilo of delivered copafba, he was willing to settle for cr$30.00 if the buyer would come and get it himself. The

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236 majority of the skins' prices come from a buyer in Fortaleza. Apparently the value of ocelot skins fluctuated, considerably for the 50 percent movement back and forth occurred in one month's time (between July and August, 1955). ' . Finally, the agent seemed to have had another buyer who was probably from a nearby city (Terezina, Barra do Corda, or the towns on the Toncantins River) for the prices he was offered by this buyer were considerably lower (right column) . It is not possible to tell exactly what happened to the extractive trade economy of the upper Zutiua area after 1957. The agent continued representing the SPI until 1962 when the commissioner retired and new functionaries replaced them. It is most certain that other store owners took over the space which had been pratically monopolized by the former agent. This occurred at least for the trade of skins, which still exists to this day albeit in a much smaller degree, but the market for forest products seemed to have disappeared by the middle 1960s, according to my informants. . Difficulties in transporting agricultural products in bulk made the trade economy of that area enter into a period of depression. The production of wild skins was the main source of cash income for the area. Nuclear family production, therefore, became as important as the extended family production, particularly on the fringes of this area where there were Brazilian peasants and landowners. To earn some extra cash several of these nuclear families entered into apadrinhagem relationship with local peasants. They hired themselves out as agricultural laborers to farmer-landowners, and some families even moved into Brazilian lands to work as squatters, tending, the cattle of the landowner, on the

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237 basis of the sharing system of one calf out of every four. But the great majority of the Tenetehara, and particularly those functioning within the extended family unit continued to live on their lands. Because of the depressed state of their trade economy as well as the slow growth rate of the Grajau economy until 1970 or so, the Tenetehara of this area remained the most conservative of all other Tenetehara. In many villages the men hardly ever dressed in anything more than some kind of a loin cloth and the women went around bare breasted as during the nineteenth century. Bows and arrows continued to be used more often than the muzzle loading guns. The necessities without which they could not do were iron implements, some clothes for a trip to the outside world, and salt. Muzzle loading guns, powder and shot, kerosene, and crude soap, the three next most important necessities of the Tenetehara of all areas, became harder to come by. This situation was improved only after 1972 when the handicraft boom occurred. In the Bacurizinho area, however, at the time that the upper Zutiua Tenetehara were in an economic slump, they were becoming involved with cattle raising. Around 1965, or 1966, two or three local cattleowners asked the Tenetehara to allow them to graze several dozen cattle on their land and to take care of them for the usual calf-sharing price. Perhaps as many as ten Tenetehara men were trusted with these cattle, and at least five of them became rather successful at it. At one point in the early 1970s, one man had some 40 cattle, another 30, and two other about a dozen each. But at about that time FUNAI prohibited such arrangements and by 1975 no one had more than two or three cattle, about a total of 15 for a population of 840.

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238 What happened to cattle raising was essentially the reverse of what happened to the large production unit pattern on the upper Pindare River in the 1940s: it led to the formation of nuclear family production on an unprecedented scale. It is well known that cattle raising is labor extensive. In that region of Maranhao cattle needs little caring for beyond taking the herd back and forth from the home base to pasture and occasionally to salt licks. The nuclear family production unit caused similar types of tension as did the extended family in the upper Pindar^ case. First, the cattle roamed about beyond the pasture areas and invaded many garden plots of the Tenetehara. This problem was partly solved by putting up fences around the gardens or by making gardens in places farther away from the wandering range of the cattle. Those who took the time to do so obviously succeeded in creating larger production units than the cattle raisers and could have continued doing so if the results of their agricultural production were satisfactory compared to the results of cattle raising production. It seems that at that time agricultural prices were in relative decline in relation to prices of manufactured goods, with the result that this investment in extra labor time did not result in the agriculturalists earning as much as the cattle raisers. The latter were obviously getting more out of their production and consequently were getting more manufactured goods than the former. Moreover, they began to use beef (instead of game meat) to promote the girls' initiation rites, and with the extra money from selling a head of cattle they could hold very prestigious parties similar to those of neighboring Brazilian peasants with an accordion, flute,, and drum players, and dancing in couples. 2 By that time there were a few Tenetehara men who could play these instruments so that this borrowed trait per se_ did not become a threat to vi llage cohesion .

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239 But the tensions between cattle raisers and agriculturalists took their toll in such a community where equality of status is essential for its continuation. In one case, one cattle raiser moved off to a nearby area by himself; another tried to move all of his cattle to another area but as a result of hoof-and-mouth disease all the cattle died on the way out. It appears that in the majority of cases agriculturalists sabotaged the cattle raisers by several means, the most conspicuous being outright slaughter of cattle that had invaded their gardens. The cattle raisers themselves were aware of this tension and the only way they could ease it was by progressively slaughtering or selling their cattle to Brazilians; this way at least they could get something out of their last heads of .cattle.

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CHAPTER IX TENETEHARA ECONOMIC SYSTEM: RECENT DEVELOPMENTS In 1972, a new source of income became available to the Tenetehara, namely a handicraft cottage industry. In early 1972 when FUNAI created ARTINDIA, a sort of public relations bureau in charge of promot ing the value of Indian cultures by selling Indian handicraft. objects , many Indian tribes were encouraged to produce their saleable traditional handicraft objects in order for them to get some cash income. ARTINDIA would buy them in bulk, paying the Indians at once and, as it turned out, at good prices. The Brazilian public was eager for "Indian art" and very willing to pay well. For this mass of consumers bows and arrows, feather bonnets, necklaces, and rattle gourds seem to have been the favorite Indian objects d'art . Particularly in demand were goods from the Xingu tribes, the Ge tribes of Para and Maranhao, and the beautiful feather work and iron-pointed arrows of the UrubuKaapor. Tenetehara handicraft was very poor^ in the 1970s, but that did not deter them from organizing handicraft production, and pouring out more saleable "Indian art" than any other Brazilian tribe. Seed necklaces and feather bonnets were turned out by the thousands, and on Cf. Wagley and Galvao 1961 for a description of Tenetehara artifacts in the 1940s. 240

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241 a smaller scale bows and arrows, rattle gourds, bamboo flutes, carved wooden animals, wood clubs, wood harpoons, woven handbags, and skirts made out of bamboo slivers and seeds. With the exception of bows and arrows and rattle gourds, and the latter used to be the exclusive property of shamans and ritual singers, none of these handicraft objects are mentioned in Wagley and Galvao's book nor^, according to informants, are they said to have been made before the handicraft boom. Indeed most of these objects were imitations of the neighboring Ge peoples' artifacts, and in most cases poor imitations indeed. Such Tenetehara Indian . craft, therefore, sold for considerably less than the value of other Indian tribes' artifacts, but the demand for Indian handicraft was so large that the Tenetehara continued making their goods and selling them, . . , The handicraft boom lasted from 1972 through 1974. With the exception of the Tenetehara of the Pindare and Caru Indian Posts, all the other areas participated heavily in this bonanza. The Tenetehara of Bacurizinho who had had the previous experience of organizing the lumber production were especially^ prominent and it is for this area that this analysis will be made and generalized to the other areas. When ARTINDIA placed its first order of Tenetehara handicraft, a few families responded by making bows and arrows, rattle gourds, and simple seed necklaces. These objects were received by the Indian Post agent who air-mailed them to Sao Luts whence it was mailed to Brasilia. Prices were paid at cr$10.00, cr$5.00, and cr$5.00, respectively. Soon afterwards, local store owners in nearby towns, particularly those located right on the bus route, began to buy Tenetehara handicraft to sell to passing bus travellers. And at the same time Tenetehara individuals

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242 began to take the initiative of selling their goods directly to these travellers at better prices than through ARTINDIA or local store owners. The demand continued to increase so that those Tenetehara men who had a knack for organizing large-scale production did so by commissioning their fellow villagers to make Indian objects payable as soon as the final sale would be made. In 1973, not satisfied with local and regional prices and frustrated by the slowness of the FUNAI Regional Office in Sao Luis, these entrepreneurs began to make trips to large Brazilian cities in order to get higher prices and bring back manufactured goods with which to repay their fellow villages. Four such trips were made. , Two were to Brasilia, and the other two were to Rio and Brasilia by way of several cities such as Terezina, Salvador, and smaller cities on the way. All trips were made by groups of people varying from two men to eight people (on one trip a boy and a woman allegedly went to get special medical treatment in Brasilia). Three of the trips were headed by Virgilio, who carried the largest bulk of handicraft goods. With his extensive experience acquired during the lumber boom and in organizing the extractive production of one or two villages in the upper Zutiua area, Virgilio was now a man in his early forties and had become a headman himself. He had a large family (three unmarried daughters and four young married sons who lived with him, as well as three little children), a very hard working wife (he had abandoned his first wife in T955), and a network of relatives, all of whom were producing for him. In addition, he extended his production network to other distant relatives in such a way that they all came to depend on him for the acquisition of manufactured goods. Whereas in 1971 he and his sons were earning some cash money by hiring themselves

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243 out to a local peasant with medium-sized holdings, by 1973 he had set up a trade store in the village of Bacurizinho. He no longer planted gardens, and even discouraged his sons from doing any heavy manual labor, including such simple tasks as getting firewood. One of his sales trips brought him as much as cr$70,000.00 (about US $10,000 in 1973); the two other trips garnered cr$45,000.00 and cr$30,000.00. On each trip he returned loaded with such goods as accordions, portable radios, record players, guitars, wrist watches, and clothes, not to mention the usual commodities such as kerosene, soap, gun powder and shot, rubber thongs, canned foods as delicacies, and staple foods with which to supply his rather wel 1 -assorted store. When he arrived from one of these trips in GrajaJ, he would pay his creditors in town, buy store goods, hire a pick-up truck, and go to the village. As he approached the village he would begin to fire firecrackers in the air to let everyone know of his return. As the pick-up truck could not go all the way to the village but had to stop about three miles away, when he reached that point there were already some people awaiting him. He would then distribute more firecrackers to some boys who would post themselves at intervals along the path to the village and light the fire crackers as the man progressed toward the vi llage. When one of his sons got married Virgilio spent cr$7,000.00 (US $1,000), on a wedding suit bought in Sao Luis, the hiring of two trucks to take people back and forth to Bacurizinho and Grajau (where his son was married in the church, an unprecedented event), and on the celebration party in the village which consisted of a dance played by a local Tenetehara band with accordion , tambourine and drum. Much beef and

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244 coffee was served but no alcoholic beverages were allowed by FUNAI in the village. A less elaborate party was held on the occasion of his daughter's initiation rite. As in the case of Camirang on the upper Pindare" River of the 1940s, Virgilio spent his profits on "conspicuous consumption." The differences between the two men were first, that Virgilio never acquired the political status of Camirang, basically because he was not the sole representative of his village. Other unattached families continued to produce handicrafts and sell on their own, either directly to bus travellers, or to local store owners and ARTINDIA. Some families even moved to Grajau during certain periods where they practically lived off their handicraft sales. Other men tried to organize large scale production, often successfully. In one case one man had five looms set up in his house to make the cotton bands for the feather bonnets, and these looms were worked by five women in a way that is reminiscent of the pre-capitalist cottage industry. The women were not paid daily wages but according to the quantityof bands each had produced at the time that the "master" was going to sell his goods; in other words, they engaged in piece work. Of course Tenetehara looms are very simply and easy to make, so that the master's investment consisted primarily of the cotton thread which he bought in bulk in Grajau and of the feathers which he bought from Tenetehara and Brazilians alike. The second difference between Camirang and Virgilio is that the latter tried to invest his money in a store, something which he knew could bring him more money. His store sold heavily on credit to both his circle of relatives and other Tenetehara even from another village. The prices he charged for food staples were essentially the same as those

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245 in Grajau, but since he bought staples in bulk and sold in retail he accrued some profit from these sales. But his major profit came from the sale of portable radios (cr$700.00 a piece). At one point every Tenetehara family in the villages of Bacurizinho and Ipu had at least one. He sold these radios sometimes for cash but most often on credit to be paid by handicraft goods at a price which was about half of what he would get by selling them in the cities. In some cases when he would buy a head of cattle for a celebration or for slaughter and retail sale, he would allow the cattle owner credit in his store. He himself could write Portuguese rather poorly but the accounts of his store were written by one of his sons or a Brazilian man who was married to a Tenetehara and lived in the village and whom he had hired as a clerk. In the middle of 1974 the handicraft boom collapsed, apparently due to market saturation. At that time ARTINDIA became reluctant to buy any more Tenetehara handicraft, with the result that Virgilio's store immediately closed for he no longer had money to buy trade goods and he likewise lost all of his credit in Grajau. In fact, it turned out that he had been buying all the radios, accordions, record players, and other goods on credit from a store in Sao Lufs on the basis of large down payments. Now he could not even pay up his own debts. He . apparently had made credit purchases also in Brasilia, and ultimately these stores came to charge FUNAI for this man's debts. FUNAI of course did not feel responsible for this matter but nevertheless if offered to buy a load of handicrafts with which it would pay Virgilio's creditors. Virgilio hesitated, however, to ask the Tenetehara handicraft producers to viprk for him, since he was sure that FUNAI would use the funds to '•J pay his debts, and therefore he would not have been able to pay the

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246 producers themselves. Furthermore, since Virgilio never felt threatened by a lawsuit since as an Indian he is legally a minor, he seemed to have decided not to take any action concerning his debts. Meanwhile, in the village his debtors were also at a standstill for they too could not pay their debts to Virgilio for lack of cash. Those who still had credit with him either from handicraft goods or from the sale of a cow or a pig were getting nervous but unable to do anything about it. In both cases nothing was ever done since Tenetehara etiquette does not permit a man to charge another in his presence for some past favor let alone for money debts. On my arrival at Bacurizinho in late July, 1975, the situation remained unresolved. There was much whispered gossip and wondering from everyone, but no backbiting. People still seemed to think that the handicraft demand would pick up, particuarly since FUNAI in Sao Lufs would periodically announce that they were ready to get a new shipment. Eventually in September, they bought a shipment worth about cr$32,000.00 from two villages of which about cr$20,000.00 (about US $2,300) were from Bacurizinho. Since Virgilio owed a store in Sao Luis cr$7,500.00 and cr$5,000.00 in Brasilia, he received only about cr$7,000.00. Since much of the handicraft shipment had been entrusted and taken to Sao Luis by Virgilio and another important man who was also his step son-in-law, when they returned they told everyone that FUNAI had not accepted their goods or that it had accepted only about cr$l,500.00 worth. He explained this to an audience of several Tenetehara who had come to Grajau to receive their share, despite the fact that Virgilio and his companion were wearing brand new panama hats, and one of them a set of new dentures. They had stayed in Sao

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247 Luis for about a month. Since I left Bacurizinho soon afterwards I cannot tell what happened subsequently. But a conversation with one of his Tenetehara creditors revealed that, although he was highly suspicious of that explanation, he felt that nothing could be done about it. He vouched that he would never again trust Virgilio, and he himself was on the way to a city in the state of Para on the Belgm-Brasilia Highway to try to sell some handicrafts that his family and other Tenetehara had made. Throughout 1975 most Tenetehara continued making handicraft either for sale to ARTINDIA, for sale to local stores, in cities not too far away, or occasionally to tourists passing through, Grajau. But prices had decreased drastically and the Tenetehara realized that the market had been flooded. An unsuspecting tourist would occasionally buy a necklace for cr$5.00 or cr$10.00, but to post oneself at a bus stop or the gas station was too time consuming. Local stores were buying a necklace at best for cr$1.00 and a feather bonnet for cr$2.00, and most of them were giving no more than cr$,50 and cr$1.00 and even as low as cr$.20 and cr$.50. The Tenetehara of the two Indian Posts in Barra do Corda were in a similar situation as those of Bacurizinho: they were still trying to sell their handicrafts to. tourists and local store owners. But those of the upper Zutiua area whose nearest town, Amarante, was not connected to the Grajau-Barra do Corda Highway had almost given up on handicraft production by the middle of 1975. And on the Pindare Indian Post the handicraft boom had touched them only in the early months when ARTINDIA had commissioned them for bows and arrows and necklaces. Their craftsmanship of necklaces was of even lesser quality than that of the

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248 upper Zutiua, Bacurizinho, and Barra do Corda Indian Posts, because they had not had the influence of Timbira handicraft. At the same time that the handicraft boom occurred there arose a large demand from the Brazilian cities for marijuana. As with the local peasants, the Tenetehara are traditional consumers of cannabis indicus , and they became one of the main sources of supply to the itinerant buyers. Many Tenetehara, who until then only planted for private consumption, took advantage of this opportunity and planted more plants than they normally needed. Prices in 1973-74 were ranging from cr$80.00 to cr$100.00 per kilo, but the Tenetehara generally traded marijuana for radios, hand and shot guns, clothes, and other manufactured goods. But by mid-1975 everyone was very freightened of being caught even with a single budding plant among his herbs, for the Federal Police was waging a fierce crackdown on this trade. Villages near the highways were easy targets for both traders and the Federal Police, and several Tenetehara were interrogated and beaten for suspected dealings in marijuana. In one case which occurred in late 1975 a Tenetehara man was taken to Barra do Corda by the Federal Police who had been tipped off by a marijuana buyer that he had sold him cr$2,000.00 worth of marijuana. Other Tenetehara later commented to me that this man, despite all the beating he suffered, never, in characteristically Tenetehara fashion, confessed his involvement in any sale of marijuana. On his release he returned to the village, rented a pick-up truck to carry his belongings, and moved to another village with his money. All the Tenetehara areas were affected by the outside demand for marijuana, but the Tenetehara of the upper Zutiua and Barra do Corda areas were the ones who most profitted from it. Those of Bacurizinho

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249 were particularly involved in the handicraft industry, whereas on the lower Pindar^ the large Brazilian peasant population had capitalized on the marijuana trade before the Tenetehara. /j Another source of cash which had appeared during the handicraft boom (but was unrelated to it) was cash labor. Beginning in 1972 new cattle ranchers had come into the region of Grajau-Barra do Corda-Amaronte and bought fairly large tracts of land from the large landholders as well as the small peasant landholdings . They had come from different states of Brazil with capital and were planning to clear land for pasture for their cattle. They needed labor and several Tenetehara responded to this opportunity. An Indian might work either for a daily wage of cr$15.00 (which remained unchanged from 1973 to mid-1975 when it increased to cr$20.00), or for a set price of cr$600.00 for every 2 1/2 acres of dry forest land that he cleared. These arrangements were not optional, but rather one or the other was chosen by the employer, most often the latter. In a few cases which I recorded, six men hired themselves out to work on the basis of cr$600.00 per 2 1/2 acres of cleared land. Since they had to travel to the place of work they took their families along and fed them by buying on credit from the employer's store. In five out of six cases they left their jobs in considerable debt to the employer, one as much as cr$600.00. Only one man quit with a positive balance of about cr$9,000.00, but allegedly he only received cr$7,400.00. Throughout 1975 he tried to get the remainder of his balance without success. FUNAI refused to do anything to compensate the employer for those who left debts or to force the employer to pay ' up the exceptional Tenetehara who was underpaid. The basis of FUNAI 's lack of action was that FUNAI had not granted the Tenetehara men

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250 permission to work for this employer since such arrangements must be made according to constitutional law. In another case (related earlier) a group of ten Tenetehara had been lured by a labor recruiter and taken to work on a very large ranch on the Tocantins River. As their wives complained to FUNAI that they had not heard from their husbands for two weeks, FUNAI, correctly suspecting that the Indians were being used as "slave" labor (a known practice in the region), moved into the ranch with the Federal Police and had the Indians released and transported back to their vil lage. Although it is unlikely that both the handicraft and the marijuana trade economies will survive in the next two or three years, the demand for hired labor by the forming of new cattle ranches will continue until these ranches become established with pasture lands. All the same the prospects for the Tenetehara to obtain a valuable source of income, comparable to the handicraft and marijuana trade in 1972-1974, are rather bleak. It seems very likely that the Tenetehara will have to return to agricultural production as their main trade economy. Rice and manioc flour were experiencing a production boom among the Maranhao peasants, as their prices were rising at least in the same proportion as the prices of other commodities. The Tenetehara were aware that the recent trade economies in which they had involved themselves were no longer bringing the returns which they had experienced in 1972-1974. They were also aware of the lack of prospects in the future, as well as of the damaging effects which these trade economies had had on their agricultural production. During the handicraft boom a great number of Tenetehara families had neglected planting gardens and without the handicraft money 1975 had been a difficult year. Now the great majority

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251 of nuclear families were clearing at least two acres of land, while a few extended families were thinking of clearing up to ten acres in order to plant half of it in rice. Two men were even trying to get a small loan from the local bank to finance the labor expenses of rice planting and harvesting, but no one town patron was willing to risk co-signing the loans without the written guaranty of FUNAI. In July, 1975, 17 Tenetehara (including one woman) were receiving cr$l,130.00 per month (US $140.00) as employees of FUNAI. This sum of money was about 2 1/2 times more than the regional monthly minimal salary, hence even in urban terms a lower-middle class salary. Needless to say, this money was spent on the purchase of luxury items as well as of food staples, since none of these people had the time or felt the need to plant gardens. By the time they received their salaries at the end of the month most of it went to pay the town stores for the bills they had run up during the month. In the two villages of Bacurizinho and Ipu where there were six of these Tenetehara working as bilingual teachers (monitores), their total annual incomes would come up to about US $10,000.00. This considerable sum of money could be invested in agriculture but it most likely would not be, because these monitores were, with one exception, young married men with little social prospects of becoming headmen of extended families. To invest in agriculture one needs labor power which, in Tenetehara society, can only be procured through ties of kinship at the extended family level. Of course the possibility that nuclear family production for an agricultural surplus might arise with the potential for investment should not be excluded. Nonetheless for such an event to take place the agricultural demand must not only be at least steady, but the internal economic

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252 relations of the Tenetehara will have to change. We shall now turn to this subject. Tenetehara Internal Economy The strong influence of the Tenetehara trade economy on their internal economy has been noted several times throughout this dissertation. We have seen how new resources are exploited, new technical norms introduced, productivity increased, and how the production units change, all due to the influence of the trade economy. This influence has also been seen to affect the social division of labor, the rise of economic alienation of labor both internally and externally, and the forms of mode of production/distribution. In this section these factors relating to production forces and production relations which constitute the Tenetehara mode of production will be analyzed in greater detail in regard to the mechanisms of the internal economy of the Tenetehara of recent . times. Production Forces (1) Resources : The Tenetehara exploit two kinds of ecological zones: the tropical rain forest and the transitional forest. With the exception of a few products such as copafba oil, jutaicica and jatoba" resins, and cumaru. and babacu nuts, all other flora and fauna products are found equally in both ecological zones. Of these exceptions, only babagu nuts and jutaicica resin are presently used in the internal economy, the former as a source of food, the latter as a cultural item in the preparation of

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253 girls' initiation rites. In areas where jutaicica resin is missing it is obtained through trade. Most Tenetehara villages nowadays have fruit. trees planted near their houses. Many of these fruit trees like mangoes, oranges, lemon, and bananas are non-aboriginal whereas cashew, jack tree and papaya are pre-Columbian domesticates. Mangoes, oranges, bananas, and papayas are often sold to obtain cash. Otherwise these fruit trees provide a reliable source of vitamins and minerals, thus minimizing the need for collecting other such sources in the wild. With the exception of rice and sugar cane, Tenetehara gardens, contain the same aboriginal cultigens as in former times. Manioc, processed as "wet flour" ( farinha d'agua ) and "sour" flour ( farinha azeda) as well as Tapioca, are the basic source of carbohydrates. At least one half of every two acre garden is planted with manioc. In addition they plant several kinds of squash, beans, corn, sweet potatoes, yams, watermelon, peanuts, and cotton. Rice is general ly , pi anted as a cash crop, whereas sugar cane is planted in small quantities for internal consumption. Peanuts are now rarely found in most Tenetehara villages, whereas cotton is planted only as there is a need for new hammocks and slings to carry babies. Game meat and fish are the main sources of animal protein. Comm'unal hunting occurs only when meat for the girls' initiation rites is needed. Fishing is done by the nuclear family except on the lower Pindare area where fishing by poison can be done. In the latter case extended family units are organized for that. In addition, cattle and pigs are raised for internal consumption as well as outside trade. Chickens are also generally raised for outside trade but they can be consumed internally.

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254 (2) Production Units : Communal production units are nowadays formed generally for social purposes, such as hunting for the girls' initiation rites and demarcating Tenetehara lands. Collective hunting by the method of driving animals to certain areas is still found in the rain forest zone, as is collective fishing with poisin. However, the products of these activities are not held communally. Moving a village from one location to another is done by extended family units in the process of the splitting up of a village. Communal decisions are made in regard to combating Brazilian encroachment, as in the cases of land disputes as I have described in Chapter I. The change in predominance of extended family versus nuclear family, and vice versa, has already been considered in detail in the chapter on the trade economies. The predominance of one or the other of these production units is articulated concomitantly in the internal economy. It should also be said that whenever these two production units are found together they are part of the domestic cycle of the Tenetehara socioeconomic structure. Extended family units are formed by the close articulation of nuclear family units. The headman of an extended family breaks down, either by the death of the headman or the influence of the vicissitudes of the trade economy, the component nuclear families lose close economic articulation. As a nuclear family begins to grow and absorb new relatives, particularly sons-in-law, its senior male member begins to take the position of a headman. (3) Technical Norms : ' ' " The method of planting continues to be that of si ash-and-burn . The time for cutting and burning a forest patch varies slightly from one ecological zone to another according to the variations in the beginning

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255 of the rainy season. Generally, families begin to cut the forest in August and finish it by November. Planting then takes place. Manioc is the first cultigen to be planted, followed by rice, beans, and the root plants, according to the growth rate of each plant. Corn and rice are harvested around June-July and by September most of the other plants also have been harvested. Manioc matures in six to twelve months, but it can be left in the ground for continuing use for up to eighteen to twenty months. The Tenetehara of the rain forest zone plant in soils that are above the flood level of the rivers and which have good drainage. The fallow periods of this soil ranges from five to eight years. The Tenetehara of the transitional forest recognize four types of soil according to the type of vegetation and the moisture retention: ikaiweru , or brush (" carrasco " in Portuguese) and otororon , or savannah are not amenable to cultivation; yka'akureru , or virgin forest, is considered good land for manioc and rice; and yapyru , or lowlands ( baixao in Portuguese) is the best land because it retains moisture. The fallow period of yka'akureru varies from between seven to ten years, but yapyru-lands have a fallow period of about six years. In both cases the fallow period is determined by the time it takes for secondary forest to grow to a height of two to three meters. In the rain forest zone, game is hunted by the method of stalking in the daytime during the dry season. In the rainy season when game moves up to areas above flood levels, hunting can be done by several men together as a communal activity. However, the results of this activity are not shared communally but belong to the persons who killed the animals (Wagley and Galvao 1949: 57). In the transitional forest zone, the latter method is not used. Instead, game is stalked by individuals in the rainy season; and in the

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256 dry season they are hunted by the method of espera whereby a man hangs his hammock at night in a tree near a waterhole or a flowering tree and waits for the tapirs, deer, wild pigs, agoutis, and birds to come by. When there are plans for the elaboration of the girls' initiation rite a group of men might go to areas where game is abundant for a couple of weeks and the results of the hunt are turned over to those who are preparing the rites. Such areas of abundance of game are exploited only during the dry season. They are guarded jealously by the Tenetehara from the intrusion of Brazilians. This is a conscious policy of game preservation on the part of the Tenetehara. They call wild game "our cattle." Muzzle-loading guns and shot guns are used much more often than bows and arrows. The latter are still used mainly to shoot big fish in shallow ponds. The Tenetehara also fish with poison in ponds formed by the receding waters of the rivers, by hook and line, and by small casting nets ( tarrafas ). Gathering activities are restricted to the collecting of honey and some wild fruits, as well as palm fronds for the production of basketry and for house roofs. All Tenetehara villages are located at walking distance (15 km at the most) from groves of palm trees. These can be babagu, inaja , or buriti . (4) Productivity : In regard to the internal economy, its basic productivity is the amount of goods produced needed to maintain the Tenetehara production unit and the society in general. Surplus of productivity results from the demands of the trade economy. The introduction of iron implements increased the potential for an internal surplus, provided that the time, spent on producing as well as the aboriginal type of production unit

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257 remained the same. However, neither of these provisions are in operation at the present time. In fact, the agricultural production of the Tenetehara often falls below the basic productivity level whenever there is high demand from the non-agricultural trade economies. The lack of fertilizers and other better methods of agricultural production leave the Tenetehara in a position which prevents them from dedicating their time to both agricultural and nonagricul tural activities without getting their subsistence means in jeopardy. Production Relations ("I) Internal Division of Labor : In aboriginal times one of the objective reasons for the division of labor in the nuclear family production unit was the need for politicomilitary labor. The defense in such societies as the Tenetehara is the exclusive province of men. As this activity began to lose its purpose in the nineteenth century, coupled with the rise of the agricultural trade economy, the men began to take on some of the tasks which had been exclusively performed by women. The men continued to clear garden plots as their exclusive realm of labor, but they now help the women in the planting, harvesting, and even processing of foods. This is particularly the case for manioc and rice produced for trade. In addition, the men collect fruits for both trade and internal consumption. And in some nuclear families the women might even accompany their husbands on the hunt. Both men and women fish by means of the hook and line as well as poisoning, but only the men own and fish with casting nets. The care of infants and children continues to be women's and young siblings' activities as is the preparation of everyday meals..

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258 (2) Social Division of Labor : The only aboriginal specialist labor was that of the shaman. Shamanistic practices nowadays are performed by both men and women. Women are rarely the main performers of a shamanistic cure, but they serve as back-up in the singing during cures. In one case recorded in the village of ipu there was a woman who was actually a main performer in such cures. Shamanistic seances have changed considerably in some areas where the ' culture of rural Blacks is strong. In these areas, such as near Barra do Corda and on the lower Pi ndare, the Tenetehara have adopted such tracts as candles, sugar rum, drum playing, and Brazilian songs into . their shamanistic practices. Elsewhere shamans work in the way reported by Wagley and Galvao (1949:110-118) except that now women can be helpers in the singing. Shamans are well paid for their work if it is successful. In one case a shaman was paid a burro worth about cr$500.00 for the successful cure of a little girl. Shamans are feared for their capacity to do harm, and consequently they are sometimes killed, when suspected of witchcraft. ^1"^"^"^'^ is not transmitted in any line of descent but is actually acquired. The first sign that makes a person want to learn how to. become a shaman comes through dreams or semi-conscious trances. This person then decides to pursue his proclivity by learning shaman songs and curing rituals. He may or may not have a teacher; in the latter case he learns by observing other shamans. Although in times past (See Wagley and Galvao 1949:30) shamans were often important headmen of extended families, nowadays this office is in the hands of lesser men. The trade economy brought forth the rise of headmen who became representatives of several production units in relation to Brazilian

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259 society. Their social status rose during times of economic boom but they fell from such heights in times of stagnation. The cases of Camirang and Virgilio illustrate this phenomenon. The recent appearance of bilingual teachers, or monitores, brought about the rise of intellectual labor as opposed to manual labor. When a monitor is also a headman in his own right or an important official leader (capitao) of a village, his status increases and he takes on new perquisites of his double office. In the case of Alberto, the monitor-capitao mentioned in Chapters I and II, he became the spokesman of several villages of the Bacurizinho Indian Post area. In his own village he was envied by many of his fellow villagers because of his material possessions and his contempt for shamanistic beliefs. The other monitores are all young ' men whose status has increased only as a function of their permanent source of income, not particularly because of the nature of their labor. (3) Economic Alienation of Labor : Thi£factor is a function of the rise of trade economy. Labor is alienated directly by the low wages paid the Tenetehara by the Brazilian landowners. In this case, of course, the Tenetehara is in the same situation as the Brazilian rural worker. Tenetehara labor is economically alienated because of the small prices paid for its products by Brazilian patrons. This also applies to the Brazilj[an peasants. In addition, labor products are alienated also by Tenetehara headmen and entrepreneurs, particularly during times of economic boom. Examples for that have been given in the cases of Camirang and Virgilio. In these cases production was organized by these men by pooling the labor power of their relatives. Camirang's production unit was essentially within his extended family (See Wagley and Galvao 1949:26-27), but Virgilio extended his production

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260 unit to other distant relatives who otherwise did not belong within his extended family. He was able to do that because the production of handi. craft could be done in a complete fashion by each nuclear family. One other individual, however, organized handicraft production in the model of an assembly line, several people working at different parts of the product. In all these cases the labor products of the members of these production units were alienated by the organizers. They in turn would sell these products and pay back the producers by distributing part of the capital investment, expenses and profits. Taken at face value this is essentially the economic behavior of an entrepreneur. However, in all these cases, the procurement of profit was intended principally for consumption. Virgilio invested part of his large profits in a trade store with the intent of increasing his profits. However, the unstable trade economic base on which. his profits rested and the egalitarian ideology of Tenetehara society did not allow for the continuation of this trade store. In short, the economic alienation of labor among the Tenetehara is effected through the trade economy. It is defined as the rise of the distinction between production units in that the labor products of some of these units are not consumed or fully enjoyed by them. Part of these labor products are in fact alienated from these units and capitalized by another such unit. Thus, the rise of economic alienation of labor marks an inchoate situation of non-egal itarianism. (4) Forms of Distribution : In a society whose predominant mechanism of distribution is generalized reciprocity, one can speak of economic egal itarianism and the conjunction of production units with consumption units. With the rise of the trade economy and consequently of the economic alienation

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261 of labor, generalized reciprocity gives way to negative reciprocity. It is postulated here that such a change can be seen as a pattern, indeed as a law of economic change among societies such as the Tenetehara. This is due to the fact that there are no mechanisms in the internal economy of the Tenetehara to mediate between the value of two different products to allow for the rise of balanced reciprocity. For the Tenetehara individual the 'value of his labor products, say 200 kg of manioc flour, might as well be equivalent to one muzzle-loading gun or one radio. What actually brings about equivalency of different commodities is the price mechanism of the external market. When this process of becoming aware of price mechanisms takes place, negative reciprocity can change to balanced reciprocity with the exchange of products of equivalent prices through the medium of money. Relations between Brazilian patrons and Tenetehara clients are interpreted here as relations characterized by a progressive continuum from negative to balanced reciprocity. If these relations reach the point of balanced reciprocity, it means that in practice the basis of patron-cl ientship is abolished. Transactions would then be effected solely through exchange of equivalent price/values. Extension of credit would assume a business-like character with official pledges of reimbursement and deadlines which must be met; in other words, it becomes a capitalist transaction. Capitalist credit systems of course are organized to obtain profit at the cost of the debtor although they take the form of balanced reciprocity as determined by the market. This distinction between patron-client credit and capitalist credit can be phrased in the following terms: patron-client credit takes the form of negative reciprocity while allowing for balanced reciprocity, and capitalist

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262 credit takes the form of balanced reciprocity while allowing for negative reciprocity. • In the internal economy of the Tenetehara with reference to its production for trade, negative reciprocity is found in the organization of production units in times of economic boom. People like Camirang and Virgilio become patrons to their Tenetehara producers. In contrast ' to outside patron-client relations, however, Tenetehara patron-clientship allows for generalized, not balanced, reciprocity. This can be seen in the way in which Virgilio's debtors never paid him when their source of income was finished. One year after his store closed no one felt an obligation to settle accounts with Virgilio nor did Virgilio feel that he owed anything to anyone else. Generalized reciprocity, therefore, remai^ns the predominant ideology of the economic relations of the Tenetehara internal economy. This is particularly so in the production for agricultural subsistence. Extended family units still pool their labor to clear gardens in a single plot. But the planting, weeding, and harvesting is done by nuclear families and the products of this labor are consumed internally. Labor power may be exchanged between nuclear family units which are not organized as an extended family unit, and in this case balanced reciprocity is the norm. Sometimes this balanced reciprocity is effected by letting. one of the labor partners have usufruct to portions of the garden's product. However, since there are no mechanisms of equivalence to determine the value of one's labor power spent in someone else's garden in relation to a certain portion of the garden's product, this relation can be called generalized reciprocity. But, if parts of the gardens are planted for trade, the equivalence of labor power and the share of the products is

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263 determined before the laborer is actually asked to lend his labor power; thus balanced reciprocity takes place. Generalized reciprocity is the norm in the distrubtion of garden and hunting products among nuclear families who view themselves as closely related by ties. of kinship and friendship. Friendship is defined here as a relationship of mutual liking and mutual support. It is a relationship that must be constantly reinforced, and sharing through generalized' reciprocity is the main means of reinforcement. Political support is another means. The distribution of subsistence goods among nuclear families which do not have such ties of friendship, even if they are the closest of relatives, such as siblings, is effected through balanced reciprocity. This obviously came about after the rise of trade economy and the knowledge of the market price system. In this case these goods are distributed or exchanged as equivalent according to their prices as found in the markets of the nearby Brazilian towns. Thus, for example, two kilos of venison might be exchanged for the equivalent price of a certain quantity of sweet potatoes. Frequently, however, a man might obtain two kilos of venison from another to be paid for with the equivalent in sweet potatoes, but he might never pay it. In this case the creditor might complain to other Tenetehara but he should never charge his debtor to comply with their agreement. Neither can the society in general, through social pressure and gossip, ever force this compliance. What is clear here is a societal ideology that still cannot bring itself to change from generalized to balanced reciprocity. However, in effect, this change is taking place through a new kind of economic behavior: whenever a Tenetehara obtains a potential source

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264 of income, say he has a quarter of a wild pig he wants to sell, he announces that product for sale at a price which is the retail price in a Brazilian town. Many other Tenetehara come to look at the pork and offer to buy on credit or at a lower price on the pledge of exchange for another product. Sometimes these offers, looked at from the point of view of rational market behavior, are quite fair. Instead, knowing that he might in fact not get the exchange value of his pork because of the ideology of generalized reciprocity, this man prefers to make the trip to a Brazilian town (sometimes as much as 30, km away) where he will sell his pork for cash at a price lower than the one he was asking in his village because in the town he can obtain only the wholesale rather than retail price for his pork. And in the town he might use this cash to buy a certain amount of goods whose prices were less than the price of other goods which the Tenetehara in his village was offering to exchange for his pork. In other words, counting the cost of his trip to the town, the expense of eating there, and the actual price which he obtained for his product, he obviously seems to be acting irrationally in terms of market behavior. This seems even more bizarre because this man knew he was losing money by doing that. Nevertheless, in terms of the risk which he had in selling on credit or exchanging his product on credit for other products, he was acting rationally. As this kind of economic behavior is quite regular among the Tenetehara, this can be interpreted as an unconscious attempt on the part of Tenetehara society to resolve a contradiction that exists between the ideology of generalized reciprocity and the economic reality that demands balanced reciprocal relations.

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265 (5) Ethnic System : Tenetehara villages have been generally self-sufficient. Trade takes place between villages that lack certain goods necessary for its survival. It has been postulated that in aboriginal times certain villages traded stone axes for political alliance. In modern times trade is done exclusively in economic terms. Bird feathers, jutaicica resin, and sometimes tobacco and cotton may not be found in one village, and so nuclear families have to obtain them from other nuclear families in other villages. This trade is effected in the parameters of generalized/balanced reciprocity found in the internal economy of a village, i.e. according to the presence or lack of friendship ties. More importantly, economic articulation between villages can be seen in the question of "village territory." Wagley (1942) states that a Tenetehara man defined the boundary of the territory of his village at the point where the sun. sets. On further inquiry the village territory was defined as the area which is actually exploited by the village. This is of course a dynamic concept of territory, a function of the activities of the village group. It reflects a situation in which land was abundant, practically without boundaries, as was the situation ' of the Pindar^ in the early 1940s. Wagley and Galvao (1949:16-17) further mention that if a Tenetehara from one village wanted to move to another he would have to ask permission of the most important headman of his new village before he could clear a garden of his own. At present the Tenetehara, with the exception of those 1 iving on the Gurupi reservation, do not have an overabundance of lands and they have become very aware of territorial boundaries. These boundaries are most clearly delimited in regard to the distinction between Tenetehara and

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266 Brazilian lands. Practically every Tenetehara individual knows these boundaries and the stories behind the demarcation of them. Inside Tenetehara reservation lands, villages have become more conscious of ownership of a certain territory than they were in the 1940s. Every village now claims, control of areas for agricultural production and areas for communal hunting in the dry season. These , vi 1 1 age areas have been established by traditional usufruct. When one village that has traditionally exploited certain areas splits up into two or more villages, each of these new villages retains portions of these areas as their control areas. This partition is done solely on the basis of previous usufruct of the extended families which now form the new villages. Let us say that village A splits into villages B and C and village B moves to the north and village C to the south. If village C is composed of certain families that traditionally hunted in an area to the north of former village A, i.e., nearer village B than village C, village C nevertheless will continue hunting in this area and with time will claim it as its control area. This claim, however, rests on traditional use not on an acknowledged land tenure system. A man may hunt in another village's control area but he usually prefers to go with a relative of this village, if only because the relative will know the best spots to hunt. However, communal hunting groups should not hunt in another village's area without the consent of the headman of that village. Concl usions Since the middle of the nineteenth century the Tenetehara economic system has been a mixture of an economy oriented towards trade and an economy oriented towards internal subsistence. The organization of

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267 the trade economy has rested on the mode of production, or the organization of the internal economy. This mode of production has been changing as the relations of the trade economy change. The change in the Tenetehara mode of production, however, has not been one of total adaptation to the trade economy and still contains many factors of aboriginal times. These factors enter into contradiction with the changing reality of the trade economy, thus making the Tenetehara economic system in general appear to be irrational. But it is these very factors which mark the Tenetehara economic system, and by extension Tenetehara society, as distinct and apart from the regional Brazilian economic system, thus its rationality. In comparison with the economic relations of the regional Brazilian peasantry, the Tenetehara economic relations of their trade economy are essentially the same. Both the Tenetehara and the Brazilian peasant, particularly the small independent peasant and the squatter peasant living on someone's land, relate to the regional market controlled by compradores-store owners and the big landowners through patron-cl ientship. On the other hand, the mode of production of the Tenetehara differs significantly from the mode of production of the Brazilian peasant. Although the factors of resources, technical norms, and internal and social division of labor are comparable, the factors of productivity, production units, forms of distribution, and economic alienation of labor are entirely different. What is important in these distinctions is that the Tenetehara society and culture are an independent and egalitarian entity, whereas the Brazilian peasants are socially and culturally part Cf. Godelier 1972 for a full discussion on the internal rationality of an economic system.

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* • , . 268 of the regional Brazilian society. Thus both socio-economic and cultural factors combine to keep the Tenetehara a society distinct from Brazilian peasant society.

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CHAPTER X CONCLUSION I began this dissertation by presenting some crucial aspects of the situation of the Tenetehara Indians in relation to the Brazilian society. Foremost among these is the question of land ownership, upon which hinge the basic objective factors for Indian ethnic survival. In the chapters on the ethnohistory of the Tenetehara it was seen that the pattern of expropriation of Tenetehara lands, and of the lands of other Indian groups, has been a continuing one since the French and Portuguese colonists first came to Maranhao. However, the forms of this expropriation have varied through history, according to the particular modes of production of the colonial Portuguese and the Brazilian society in Maranhao. Thus during the phases of slavery and serfdom, lands were overabundant and therefore sufficient for both Brazilians and independent Indian groups. What in fact constituted wealth from the viewpoint of Brazilians was labor, particularly Indian labor, for the operation of the sugar and tobacco plantations of the colonists. In the process of procuring this labor, many Indian groups were enslaved or placed into conditions of servitude, with the result that their modes of production and ultimately their cultures were destroyed. The Tenetehara were spared this pervasive onslaught because the majority of them lived in an area with limited access to the economic center of colonial society. 269

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270 By about the middle of the eighteenth century, the non-aggressive Indians of Maranhao were declared free and therefore not subject to slave parties or parties of reprisals of the so-called "just wars." Aggressive Indian groups, such as the Ge Timbira groups, continued to suffer organized attacks for purposes of displacement from their lands and enslavement. Although this juridical freedom did not change the character of dominance of the Brazilian society over the Indians, it did change the form in which this dominance would be effected. Furthermore, with the increasing importation of African slaves to work the plantations of rice and cotton, as well as cattle, the new export commodities of Maranhao, Indian labor became for the most part unnecessary to the new mode of production of Brazilian society. Indian groups that were not totally annihilated by the aggressive expansion of the Maranhao economy entered into a contact relationship with Brazilians which I have termed patron-clientship. This relationship was effected through trade economies. The Indians, and particularly the Tenetehara, became engaged in producing certain commodities which had both use-value and exchangevalue for the economy of the Brazilian societies. Agricultural products and extractive goods were the principal commodities produced by the Tenetehara for trade with the Brazilian patrons. In turn the Brazilians provided the Tenetehara with manufactured goods, principally clothes, guns, ammunition, salt, and kerosene, upon which the Tenetehara culture became increasingly dependent. The search for contact with a Brazilian market and Brazilian patrons was the main reason for the expansionary movement of the Tenetehara in the first half of the nineteenth century. From their aboriginal habitat on the upper and middle Pindare River, the Tenetehara migrated westward

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271 to the Gurupi River and beyond, and down river to the lower Pindare and Grajau Rivers and thence up the Grajau to the upper-middle Grajau and Mearim Rivers and the upper Zutiua River. This migration was made possible because the various Ge Timbira groups that had up until then inhabited these latter areas were suffering a fatal decrease in their populations and their culture. By the last quarter of the nineteenth century the Tenetehara had a population of about 6,000 people, possibly the largest they ever attained in their history. In the last years of the nineteenth century, the Tenetehara began to lose control of some of their lands, as the Brazilian population of Maranhao began to increase through immigration and began to exploit newjands. The number of marriages between • Brazi 1 ians and Tenetehara increased concomitantly, with the result that the Tenetehara population decreased by at least fifty percent, as the newly wedded couple, their offspring, and other relatives moved into the sphere of Brazilian lifeways as peasants. In addition, this close contact brought forth the dissemination of foreign diseases. In the Barra do Corda region, in 1901, there occurred the infamous massacre of Alto Alegre perpetrated by the Tenetehara on a colony of Brazilian peasants and Italian Capuchin friars. The revenge that the Brazilians took against the Tenetehara caused an additional loss of population for the Tenetehara of the region. On the other hand, this caused the rise of Tenetehara ethnic self-consciousness which resulted in a higher degree of cautious relations with the Brazilians than had been the case previously. Whereas in other regions the patron-client pattern of expropriation of Tenetehara lands continued, in the Barra do Corda-GrajaQ region it was considerably curtailed by the attitude of sel f-defensi veness of the Tenetehara. This is one of the main

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272 reasons why the Tenetehara of this latter region have increased their population by close to one hundred per cent throughout the last three decades, while the Tenetehara population of the Pindare and Gurupi regions have since decreased by ninety and sixty percent, respectively. The mediation between the Tenetehara and Brazilian society through patron-clientship, which was objectified through the trade economies, has been extended into the twentieth century. But now the Brazilian Indian Agency, the Servigo de Protegao aos Indies (SPI) which was created in 1910, and the Fundagao Nacional do Indio (FUNAI) which replaced the SPI at the end of 1967, stepped in to provide an official role in this mediation. The purpose of the SPI/FUNAI was partly to protect the Indians from the over-powering dominance of Brazilian patrons and partly to bring about the incorporation of the Indians into Brazilian society. This double, and somewhat contradictory, purpose cannot be said to have been realized because of the paradoxical functions of the SPI/FUNAI as mediator between the Indians' interest and the interests of the Brazilian governmental policies of colonization. The extreme inefficiency of the body of administrators and the guidelines of Indian policy of the SPI/FUNAI also contributed to this lack of success. Nevertheless, as far as the Tenetehara are concerned, the SPI/FUNAI have played a considerably valuable role in curtailing the extent of Brazilian expropriation of their lands. This conclusion, drawn from historical data, is contrary to the thesis of Moreira Neto (1967) which states that the mediating agency or actors of Brazilian-Indian relations have not changed in content since the arrival of the Europeans in Brazil. The historical pattern of land expropriation, of racism, and of ethnic extinction to which Moreira Neto refers as indigenato , indeed holds true.

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273 but the forms, contents, and the results of this pattern have changed. Plus sa change, plus c'est la meme chose is not, in my view, the correct maxim to represent the indigenato. I do believe that a somewhat optimistic note can be inserted into the records of Brazilian-Indian relations at least for the time of the creation of the SPI/FUNAI. Nonetheless, the recent development of the capitalist mode of production in rural regions of Brazil where there are Indian groups, poses a new set of problems, the solution of which requires a more efficient and more Indian-oriented set of guidelines on the part of FUNAI. It remains to be seen how FUNAI will do that. To analyze Brazilian-Indian relations only from the perspective of the Brazilian mediation agencies and actors is a one-sided proposition. The Indian groups have (and do) played an important role, if not in determining, at least in shaping the character of this mediation. Every Indian society, let it not be forgotten, is a self-conscious system with interests of self-maintenance and self-reproduction. Although the Indians realize the advantage of adopting some of the Brazilian cultural traits and they even adopt other traits which are in the long run detrimental to the self-maintenance of their societies, such as the use of clothes and the Brazilian style of housing, nevertheless they too realize that the social conditions of their existence are superior in many ways to the social conditions of the Brazilian peasants with whom they are acquainted. Moreover, they are aware of certain aspects of the historical processes of expansion of the Brazilian society, particularly those of land expropriation, labor exploitation, and the position of landless peasants to which they are frequently relegated. All these factors are part of the Indians', and particularly the Tenetehara ' s , knowledge

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274 of their past, present, and future relative to the dominant Brazilian society. Thus these factors constitute, along with the inherent need of self-reproduction of any ethnic group, the set .of norms and positions for that which Barth (1969) called "the formation of ethnic boundaries." In an attempt to discern the most basic factor which has brought about the continuing survival of the Tenetehara over a period of over 350 years of contact with Brazilian society, this dissertation focused upon the analysis of the Tenetehara mode of production. This analysis began with the reconstruction of the aboriginal mode of production of the Tenetehara, and proceeded to account for the changes therein which took place during the historical phases of the Tenetehara-Brazi 1 ian contact relationship. It was seen that this mode of production changed in some ways in order to produce for the type of trade economy in question. Because this change was effected through a restructuring of some of the factors of this mode of production, the former structure was never completely destroyed. However, some factors, such as the forms of distribution as well as the decline of communal production seem to have changed irrevocably, making it unlikely that the modern Tenetehara mode of production will ever again operate as in oboriginal times. But more importantly, the ideology of egalitarianism, or in other words, the social constraint of equal access to resources and production goods, makes the Tenetehara mode of production not only distinct from that of the Brazilian peasants, but also constitutes a contraction to the structure of their trade economy. Recent developments in this trade economy, such as the Indian handicraft boom and the concomitant rise of entrepreneurs to coordinate the production and sale of the handicraft goods, have brought forth the potential for the emergence

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275 of differentiation of politico-economic status. Such differentiation of status, however, has not become institutionalized, both because of the "boom-and-bust" nature of the trade economy itself, and because of the social constraint of equal status. The latter stabilizing, or leveling mechanism, has been operationalized here by the contradiction between the mode of production of the internal economy and the unstable forms of production of the trade economy. In the final analysis, and returning to the exposition presented in Chapters I and II on the modern Tenetehara face to face with Brazilian society, the situation of the Tenetehara is one of institutional and existential impasse. In this too, the Tenetehara situation is similar to that of other Brazilian Indian groups. Recent crucial developments in the socio-economic structure of the Brazilian rural society warrant the reference to the Tenetehara situation as being on the threshold of a new era. Finally, we might ask the question: What lies ahead for the Tenetehara as an ethnic group. By phrasing the question on the future of the . Tentehara in this manner, I am implicitly working under the assumption that there is a distinct possibility that the Tenetehara will continue to be an ethnic group in the future. This assumption contrasts with earlier assumptions on the part of other anthropologists that the Tenetehara, and for that matter, all and every Brazilian Indian group, were doomed to ethnic extinction. In the view of these anthropologists, history and the inexorable march of Western civilization foreclosed any other course. Darcy Ribeiro's (1970) records, showing a forty percent extinction rate for the Brazilian Indian groups between 1900 and 1957, and the extinction of other groups after 1957, are seen as undeniable

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276 evidence for this historical trend. On the other hand, the Tenetehara Indians, and. many others, such as the Potiguar of Paraiba State, the Fulnio of Pernambuco State (See Pinto 1956), other tribes in the States of Minas Gerais and Mato Grosso, all of which have had 200 or more years of contact with the Brazilian society, have survived and have even increased in numbers (See Kietzman 1972). There is a need to study the conditions that favored the survival of these Indian groups, to contrast them with the conditions that cause ethnic extinction. I hope that this dissertation has been an empirical and theoretical contribution to such a study. It is not possible, of course, following the theoretical framework of this study which takes the view that history is consciously made by man although under conditions he is often unaware of (See Marx 1970), to attempt to predict the future of the Tenetehara. For it has been demonstrated here that this future must be, as was the past and is the present, inextricably woven with the future of Brazil. Nonetheless, it does seem to this author that given one basic factor, that of the continuation of ownership of land by the Tenetehara, one can make some predictions on how the Tenetehara ethnic group might come to grips with their present and their future in relation to the Brazilian society. These predictions will focus, as has this study, on the Tenetehara mode of production, with the assumption that the changes that occur in this basic structure will cause changes in the superstructure of the Tenetehara ethnic group. A final assumption must be made that the emergence of a capitalist mode of production in rural Maranhao will displace the type of peasant mode of production hitherto in existence in this state. This new mode of production entails the

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277 presence of large to medium cattle ranches, medium to medium-small farms of mixed agriculture (rice, manioc, and local vegetables) and animal (cattle, pigs, and chicken) raising, and inevitably a large rural proletariat, the socio-economic function of which will potentially cause the instability of this mode of production. At any rate, faced with these conditions, the Tenetehara mode of production will be changed in order to bring about an increase in their productivity and the emergence of a strong political leadership to counteract the potential political threat of Brazilian capitalists and rural proletariat. Although the situation of present-day peasants of this state is structurally similar to that of the Tenetehara, the possibility of an alliance between these two groups is rather small for the near future. The Tenetehara must increase their economic productivity because they continuously need an economic surplus in order to obtain the basic goods which they need. Moreover, the capitalist credit system for agriculture demands accountability through surplus production. It is likely, too, that the demand for these goods will continue to increase and become more diversified as the possibility for their acquisition increases. Furthermore, the increase must be effected because the regional capitalist mode of production will be much more competitive than that of the Brazilian peasants has been. Agricultural production remains the only stable and viable economic activity of the Tenetehara. To increase their agricultural productivity the Tenetehara must develop or obtain new techniques for this purpose, such as scientific knowledge of soils, fertilizers, and machinery. They must also organize their production units more efficiently. There are

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278 two possible ways in which this can be done. One is to make the nuclear family production unit predominant in their mode of production. This can only be done if these new techniques of production are available to them. The consequences of such a development is not hard to imagine, at least as a hypothetical model. There would be a diversification of economic activity by individual nuclear families. Some of them would also concentrate on raising animals, especially pigs and chickens. The form of distribution would change to balanced reciprocity and economic status would become congruent with political status. Leadership would then rise from this conjunction, and if an ideology of egal itarianism were to continue, it would be institutionalized through some kind of democratic, majority rule decision-making. There is however, a more likelihood that production would be organized by the extended family unit in conjunction with the communal production unit. Here the labor needed for making gardens, raising pigs and chickens, and coordinating the distribution appear to need less of some of the new techniques than in the former case. And certainly the relatively small amount of these techniques available to the Tenetehara could be more efficiently utilized. The forms of distribution would be predominantly positive reciprocity except in the acquisition of manufactured goods from the outside in which case balanced reciprocity would be the norm. Leadership, moreover, could continue to be provided by • the more traditional, if not necessarily more stable, personae of the senior headmen of the extended family unit. Political decision making would proceed by consensus. Given the traditional instability of alliances between extended families, which this dissertation only touched upon, the need to make stability possible would arise. This author cannot

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279 think of one such solution, but it would obviously come from the very process of efficiently organizing this form of production. In either the nuclear or the extended family solutions or a combination of the two, for increased productivity, there remains the possible need to organize a form of land distribution. At the present time there is enough land in all Tenetehara areas for their populations to utilize land by a relatively unstructured land tenure system. However, with population increase and potential high productivity of land through new techniques, the need for land allocation to the production units will become imperative. But, whether land plots will be allocated on a permanent, yearly, or other periodic time basis, and whether they will be allocated to communal use, nuclear or extended family units, there should always be the stipulation that these lands are inalienable and that ultimately ownership is lodged in the entire body of the Tenetehara ethnic group. For such to become a legal possibility, of course, the relationship between the Tenetehara and the Brazilian government, through FUNAI or other agencies, must be one of autonomy as well as based on the ideology and legality of ethnic and cultural plurality.

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GLOSSARY ALDEADO: An Indian living in aldeamentos , or in villages which were under the control of the colonial administration. ALDEAMENTO: Concentration of Indian groups in a village (aldeia) or villages under the jurisdiction of a colonial missionary. ALDEIA: An Indian village. ALMECEGA: A large tree ( Protium icicariba ) from which a resin is obtained. ALQUEIRE: A unit of weight equivalent to about 30 kg, ALTO ALEGRE: A colony of Brazilians and Tenetehara created by the Capuchin Friars of Lombardy in 1895. It was destroyed by the Tenetehara in 1901. ANACONDA: In Portuguese, jibgia ( Constrictor constrictor ). APADRINHAGEM: The relationship of patronage which a Brazilian extends to a Tenetehara regardless of whether or not there is a religious sanction to it. It entails a great deal of dependency on the part of the Tenetehara. ARROBA: Unit of weight of about 15 kg or 32 pounds. ARTINDIA: An agency created by FUNAI to promote Indian handicrafts and art. BABACU: A palm tree ( Orbygnia speciosa ) whose nuts are used for food and for the manufacture of cooking oil. BAIXADA MARANHENSE: The area of Northern Maranhao characterized by swampy fields, where the rivers Itapecuru, Monim, Mearim, Grajad, and Pindard are drained. BANDEIRAS: Expeditions organized by private individuals to search for precious stones and Indian slaves. BUMBA-MEU-BOI : A Brazilian folk drama in which a papier mache ox is one of the leading characters. BURITI: A palm tree ( Mauri ti a vinifera ) used for its fruits and fronds. 280

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28T CABOCLO: Generic term applied to the Brazilian peasant. In Maranhao this term is applied to the Indians by the Brazilians. CANELLA: An Indian group of the Ge linguistic family and the Timbira sub-family. They live in southcentral Maranhao and are sub-divided into two groups: The Cannel la-Ramkokamekra and the Canella-Apanyekra. CAPITAO: Captain. Term used for a Tenetehara headman who has been appointed by the Brazilian authorities (FUNAI, SPI, or colonial agencies) as leader of his village. CAPIVARA: The largest South American rodent ( Hydrochoerus hydrochoeris ) . CEDRO: A large hardwood tree ( Cedrella sp. ) used for lumber. Not to be confused with the true cedar tree. COLONY: A system created by the provincial government in the nineteenth century to bring in immigrants to colonize and develop a particul area. Nowadays colonies are set up by the federal government through several agencies of development, notably SUDENE (Superintendencia para o Desenvol vimento de Nordeste, or Agency for the Development of the Brazilian Northeast) and SUDAM (Superint§ndencia para o Desenvol vimento da Amazonia, or Agency for the Development of the Amazonia). COMPRADOR: Entrepreuneur from a rural town who buys and sells to local peasants and Indians. Usually also owns a trade store in a local town. COPAIBA (OIL) CRUZEIRO (CR$): A large tree ( Copaifera Langsdorff i ) from which a fine oil is obtained. The Brazilian currency since 1942. It replaced the rgis and the rate of cr$1.00 for 1$000 r^is. CUMARU: A large tree ( Coumarouna odorata Aubl or Dipterix odorata Wild) whose fruits (nuts) are used for the manufacture of perfumes. In French, "fgve tonka." DEER: In Portuguese, veado . Two main species are found in the forest: veado mateiro ( Mazama americana ) and veado catingueiro ( Mazama simplicicornis ) . DESCIMENTO(S) Expeditions organized by colonial missionaries (princi^ pally Jesuits) to bring Indian groups to aldeamentos located near colonial centers. DIRECTORY SYSTEM: A system created in, 1845 to promote the integration of Indian groups into the Brazilian society. The general directory was located in the provincial capital while the local directories took charge of Indian villages. It lasted until the end of the Brazilian empire in 1889.

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282 ENTRADAS: Expeditions organized and sanctioned by the colonial administration to explore the hinterlands and obtain Indian slaves. ESPERA: Literally "a wait." A technique used by both Brazilians and Tenetehara to hunt game. EXPANSION FRONTIERS: In Portuguese, frentes de expansao . Term coined by Darcy Ribeiro to mean frontiers of rural Brazil which are in contact with Indian groups. FEDERAL POLICE: In Portuguese, Policia Federal . A federal and state organ of police control with military powers. FUNAI: Acronym for Fundaeao Nacional do Indio , or National Foundation for the Indian. The Brazilian federal organ in charge of Indian affairs. It was created in 1967 to replace the SPI. GAVIAO(OES): An Indian group of the Timbira sub-family presently located in southwest Maranhao near the town of Montes Altos. GAMELLA: Indian group possibly of Ge linguistic affiliation that until the early twentieth century lived on the Baixada Maranhense . GUAJA: A Tupi group of hunters and gatherers living between the upper Pindarg and the Gurupi Rivers. GUAJAJARA: Name applied by the Brazilians to the Tenetehara living in '. Maranhao. See Tembe. GUARIMA: A tree ( Ischnosiphon aruma ) from whose bark baskets are made. ' HECTARE: An area measurement equivalent to 2 1/2 acres or 10,000 square meters. HONEY FEAST: A Tenetehara social ritual celebrated in the dry season. After enough honey is collected and hung in gourds in a house, men and women dance and sing around it for two or three days. Other villages are invited and ritually welcomed. INAJA: A palm tree ( Maximiliane sp. ) used principally for its fronds. INDIAN POSTS: The smallest and most direct administrative unit in charge of Indian affairs. It is located in or near an Indian village. There are twelve such units under the FUNAI Regional Offices in Maranhao, eight of which serve the Tenetehara, INDIAN INSTITUTE: A boarding school created by the Capuchin Friars in Barra do Corda to missionize the local Indians (Tenetehara and Timbira groups). JACU: A bird the size of a small chicken ( Penelope sp. ) .

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283 JACUNTINGA: A bird ( Pipile jacutinga Spix) smaller than the jacu. JAGUAR: In Portuguese, onga pintada ( Panthera onga ). JATOBA: A large tree ( Hymenoea courbaril ) from which a resin is obtained, JUST WAR: Juridical term used in colonial times for the war perpetrated ^ on Indian groups that were in conflict with the Brazilian society. JUTAICICA: A resin apparently obtained from the jatobS tree. KAINGANG: Indian group of the Ge linguistic stock living in the states of Santa Catarina, Sao Paulo, Parang, and Rio Grande do Sul. Also known as Xokleng. KARAIW; In the Tenetehara language, a "white man" ("white woman" is karaiw kuza ). A Black man is called £§r|na. LINGUA GERAL: Lingua franca , or a trade language created by Jesuit missionaries in the sixteenth century from the Tupi language spoken by the Tupinamba Indians of the Brazilian coast. It was used in the aldeamentos to teach the Gospel to Indian groups. LUGAR(ES): Indian villages with fewer than 150 people that become part of the colonial jurisdiction after 1755. See also vila . MANIOC: Portuguese, mandioca ( Manihot utilissima ) . Generic term for various kinds of edible roots which form the staple food of Indians and rural Brazilians. MARIJUANA: A bush tree ( Cannabis indicus ) whose leaves and flowers are smoked as an intoxicant. MATA DE TRANSICAO OR MATA SECA: Transitional forest characterized by the presence of mixed forest and savannah vegetation. MONITOR(ES): Indian bilingual teacher. ' MUNICIPIO: County. The majority of the Tenetehara live in the municipios of Amarante, Barra do Corda, GrajaCi, MongSo, and Pindar^Mirim. OCELOT: In Portuguese, maracajg or jaguatirica ( Jaguarius pardalis ). PAU-BREU: Probably the same as almgcega . PECCARY: In Portuguese, queixada ( Tayassu pecari ). Peccaries run in large herds of between 20 to upwards of 100 animals. PELUDO: A wild cat, probably Pel is Herpailurus yaguarondi Lac.

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284 REGIONAL OFFICES: The administrative unit of FUNAI located in areas where there are Indian groups. FUNAI has nine Regional Offices in the country, the one in Maranhao being the Sixth. RELATOrIOS: Reports. In the nineteenth century the presidents of the provinces and the directors of the directory system wrote yearly relatorios on the situation of the Indians. The documents of the SPI are also spoken of as such. SUB-REGIONAL OFFICE: An administrative unit of FUNAI located in a town to supervise several Indian Posts. REIS (1$000 = one thousand reis): The Brazilian currency until 1942 when it became cr$1.00. SPI: Acronym for Servigo de Protegao aos Indios , or Indian Protection Service. It was created in 1910 to protect and promote the integration of the Brazilian Indians into the Brazi 1 ian .society. In 1967 it was replaced by FUNAI. TAPIR: In Portuguese, anta ( Tapirus terrestris ), the largest South American mammal . . TEJU: An iguana like lizard ( Tupinambis teguixim ) whose skin is marketable. TEMBE: Name applied by Brazilians to the Tenetehara living in Para State. TIMBIRA: Indian groups that form a sub-family of the Ge linguistic family. Formerly they lived in both forest and savannah environments but most of the forest Timbira have become extinct since the late nineteenth century. Timbira groups living in Maranhao include the Canella^ Gavioes, and Krikati. Those living in Para are the Apinaye, the Western Gavioes, and the Kraho. TUPI: Generic term used for Indian groups who speak languages of the Tupi linguistic family. Included in it are the Tenetehara, Guaja Amanjos, Tupinamba, and Urubu-Kaapor .. URUBU-KAAPOR: A Tupi Indian group presently living in an area between the rivers Turiagu and Gurupi . VILA: Township in colonial times. Many Indian villages with more than 150 people became vilas after 1755. WILD PIG: In Portuguese, caititu ( Tayassu angulatus ) . Wild pigs run in small herds of from six to twenty animals. XAVANTE: Indian group of the Ge linguistic family living in the state of Mato Grosso. XINGU: An Indian area located on the upper Xingu River; also an Indian reservation. XOKLENG: See Kaingang.

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BIBLIOGRAPHY Abbeville, Claude d' 1945 Historia da Missao dos Padres Capuchinhos na Ilha do Maranhao e Terras ci rcunvizinhas . Sao Paulo: Livraria Martins Editora. [Originally published in French in Paris, 1614.] , Abreu, Capistrano de 1930 Caminhos Antigos e Povoamento do Brasil. Rio: Livraria Briguiet. . , • 1954 Capitulos de Historia Colonial (1500-1800). 4d. Edijao anotada. Rio: Livraria Briguiet. Abreu, S. Froes 1931 Na Terra das Palmeiras; estudos brasileiros. Rio: Oficina Industrial Graphica. Alencastre, Jose Martins Pereira de 1857 Memoria chronologica , historica e corogr^fica da ProvTncia do Piauhy. lri_ Revista do Institute Historico e Geografico Brasileiro, Vol. 20, pp. 5-164. Almeida, Candido Mendes de 1874 Memorias para a historia do extincto estado do Maranhao, Vol. 2. Rio: Nova Typographia de Joao Paulo Hildebrandt. Anais da Biblioteca Nacional 1948 Livro Grosso do Maranhao, 1647-1745. Vols. 66 and 67. Rio: Biblioteca Nacional. Araripe, Tristao de Alencar 1958 Historia da Provincia do Ceara (Desde os Tempos Primitives ate 1850). 2a. Edicao anotada. Fortaleza: Tipografia -Minerva. Arquivo da Curia Custodial 1894-1901 Alto Alegre. Sao Luis: Igreja do Carmo. Azevedo, Joao Lucio de 1930 Os jesuitas no Grao-Para; suas missoes e colonizacao. 2a. Edigao anotada. Coimbra: Imprensa da Universidade. Barth, Fredrick 1969 Introduction. In_ Fredrick Barth (ed.) Ethnic Groups and Boundaries: The Social Organization of Culture Difference, pp. 9-38. Boston: Little, Brown and Company. 285

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286 Berger, Allen H. 1976 Structural and Eclectic Revisions of Marxist Strategy: A Cultural Materialist Critique. Iji Current Anthropology, Vol. 17, no. 2, pp. 290-305. Bettendorf, Joao Felipe 1910 Cronica da Missao dos Padres da Companhia de Jesus no Estado do Maranhao. Jn^ Revista do Instituto Historico e Geografico Brasileiro, Vol. 72, Part I. Boxer, C. R. 1962 The Golden Age of Brazil: 1695-1750. Berkeley and Los Angeles: University of California Press. Brusque, Franci sco^Carl os Araujo 1862 Relatorio Apresentado a Assembleia da ProvTncia do Para, 1862. Belem: Typographia Carlos Rhossard. Cardim, Fernao 1939 Tratado da Terra e Gente do Brasil. Rio: Biblioteca Pedagogica Brasileira, Serie 5a. Brasiliana, Vol. 168. Cunnif, Roger Lee 1970 The Great Drought: Northeast Brazil, 1877-1880. Ph.D. Dissertation. The University of Texas at Austin. Dal ton, George 1963 Economic Surplus, Once Again. In. ^n^erican Anthropologist, Vol. 65, pp. 389-394. Dodt, Gustavo 1939 Descrigao dos rios Parnaiba e Gurupy. Sao Paulo: Co. Editora Nacional. [Originally published in 1872.] Fernandes, Florestan 1963 Organizagao Social dos Tupinamba. Sao Paulo: Difusao Europeia do Livro. . 1970 A Fungao Social da Guerra na Sociedade Tupinamba. Sao Paulo: Livraria Pioneira, Ferreira, Fernando Luis 1842, Exposigao a cerca da civilizagao dos Guajajara no Rio Pindare no Maranhao. MS. Rio: Biblioteca do Instituto Historico e Geografico Brasileiro. Ferreira, Joao de Souza 1894 America abreviada; suas noticias e de seus naturaes e em particular do Maranhao hi Revista do Instituto Historico e Geografico Brasileiro, Vol. 48, Part I.

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287 FUNAI: Fundagao Nacional do Indio 1975 Legislagao. Brasilia: Assessoria da Relagoes Publicas do Fundagao Nacional do fndio. Furtado, Celso 1963 The Economic Growth of Brazil. A survey from Colonial to Modern Times. Translated from the Portuguese by Suzette Macedo. Berkeley and Los Angeles: University of California Press. Gaioso, Raimundo Jose de Sousa 1970 Compendio Historico-Politico dos Principios da Lavoura do Maranhao. Rio: Editora Livros do Mundo Inteiro, Colegao Sao Luis, no. 1. [Originally published in 1810.] Galvao, Eduardo 1945 Unpublished Notes on the Tenetehara Indians. 1957 Estudos sobre a aculturagao dos grupos indigenas do Brasil. _In_ Re vista de Antropologia , Vol. 5,' no. 1. Godelier, Maurice 1972 Rationality and Irrationality in Economics. New York and London: Monthly Review Press. 1977 Perspectives in Marxist Anthropology. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Gross, Daniel 1975 Protein Capture and Cultural Development in the Amazon Basin. ^American Anthropologist, Vol. 77, pp. 526-549. Harris, Marvin 1974 Cows, Pigs, Wars, and Witches: The Riddles of Culture. New York: Vintage Books. Huxley, Francis 1956 Affable Savages: An Anthropologist among the Urubu Indians of Brazil. London: Rupert Hart-Davis. IBGE: Institute Brasileiro de Geografia e Estatistica 1957 Enciclopedia dos Municipios Brasileiros, Vol. 3. Rio: IBGE. 1959 Enciclopedia dos Municipios Brasileiros, Vol. 15. Rio: IBGE 1966 Atlas Nacional do Brasil, 1966. Rio: IBGE. Junqueira, Carmep 1975 Os Indios de Ipavu. ^Um Estudo sobre a Vida do Grupo Kamaiura Sao Paulo: Editora Atica. Kiemen, Mathias C, O.F.M. 1954 The Indian Policy of Portugal in the Amazon Region, 16141693. Washington, D.C.: The Catholic University Press.

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288 Kietzman, Dale 1972 Indian Survival in Brazil. Ph.D. Dissertation. University of Southern California. Koster, Henry 1942 Viagens ao Nordeste do Brasil. Sao Paulo: Companhia Editora Nacional, Brasiliana, Vol. 221. Lago, Antonio Pereira do . 1872 Itinerario da^Provincia do Maranhao. In_ Revista do InstitutoHistorico e Geografico Brasileiro, Vol. 35, Part I. Laraia, Roque de Barros 1972 Organizagao Social dos tupis contemporaneos . Ph.D. Dissertation. Universidade de Sao Paulo. Laraia, Roque^de Barros and Roberto da Matta 1967 Indios^ Castanhei ros : A empresa extrativa e os indios no medio Tocantins. Sao Paulo: Difusao Europeia do Livro. Legros, Dominique 1977 Chance, Necessity, and Mode of Production: A Marxist Critique of Cultural Evolutionism. Jn_ American Anthropologist, Vol. 79, pp. 26-41. Leite, Serafim 1943 Historia da Companhia de Jesus no Brasil, Vol. 3. Rio: Institute Imprensa Nacional. Lopes, Raimundo 1970 Uma Regiao Tropical. Rio: Cia. Editora Fon-Fon e Seleta. Machado, Francisco Xavier 1854 Memorias relativas as capitanias do Piaui e Maranhao (1810). Xn Revista do Instituto Historico e Geografico Brasileiro, Vol. 17, pp. 56-69. . Marques, Cesar Augusto 1970 Dicionario Hi storico-Geograf ico da Provincia do Maranhao. 3a. Edigao. Rio: Cia. Editora Fon-Fon e Seleta. [Originally published in 1870.] Marx, Karl 1964 Pre-Capitalist Economic Formations-. With an Introduction by Eric J. Hobsbawm. New York: International Publishers. Marx, Karl and Frederick Engels 1970 The German Ideology: Part One with Selections from Parts Two and Three. Edited, with an .Introduction by C. J. Arthur. New York: International Publishers. Maybury-Lewis , David 1974 Akwe-Shavante Society. New York: Oxford University Press.

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289 Mel lati , Jul ig Cesar 1967 Indios e Cri adores: A Situagao dos Kraho na area pastoril do Tocantins. Rio: Institute de Ciencias Sociais, Monografia 3. Metraux, . Al fred 1927 Migrations Historigues des Tupi -Guarani . Paris: Librairie Orientaliste et Americaine. 1950 A Religiao dos Tupinamba. Sao Paulo: Companhia Editora National . 1953a The Tupinamba. jn_ Julian Steward (ed.) Handbook of South American Indians, Vol. 3, pp. 95-134. New York: Cooper Square Publishers. [Originally published in 1948 by the Smithsonian Institute, Bulletin 143.] 1963b The Teremembe. Julian Steward (ed.) Handbook of South American Indians, Vol. 1, pp. 573-574. New York: Cooper Square Publishers. [Originally published in 1946 by the Smithsonian Institute, Bulletin 143.] Ministerio de. Agricultura., Industria e Comercio 1913 Exposigao sobre o Servigo de Protegao aos Indios e Localizagao de Trabalhadores Nacionais relativo ao Ano de 1911. Rio: Imprensa Nacional. Moraes, Jose de 1860 Historia da Companhia de Jesus do Para, e Maranhao. Edited by Candido Mendes de Almeida. Vol. 1. Rio: Typographia de Comerico de Brito e Braga. Moreira Neto, Carlos 1967 Constante Historica do 'Indigenato' no Brasil. XH ^^as do Simposio sobre a Biota Amazonica, Vol. 2, pp. 175-185. Rio. 1971 A PoltticaIndigenista Brasileira durante o Seculo XIX. Ph.D. Dissertation. Faculdade de Filosofia, Ciencia e Letras do Rio Claro. Murphy, Robert 1960 Headhunter's Heritage. Berkely and Los Angeles: University of California Press. Nembro, Metodio da, O.F.M. Cap. , 1955 Sao Jose de Grajau-: primeira prelazia do Maranhao. Fortaleza Edigoes 'A voz de Sao Francisco'. Nimuendaju, Curt 1937 The Gamella Indians. Primitive Man, Vol.10, no. 3-4. 1946 The Eastern Timbira. Berkeley and Los Angeles: University of California Press.

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290 Nimuendaju, Curt 1951 Mitos dos Indies Tembe do Para e Maranhao. D]_ Sociologia, Vol. 13, no. 2, pp. 174-182; no. 3, pp. 274-282. Oliveira, Roberto Cardoso de 1960 0 processo de Assimilagao dos Terena. Rio: Museu Nacional. 1972 0 Indio e o Mundo dos Brancos. Uma interpretagao sociologica da situagao dos Tukuna. Sao Paulo: Livraria Pioneira Editora. Pearson, Harry . 1957 The Econoiny has no Surplus-: Critique of a Theory of Development. In Karl Polanyi, Conrad Arensberg, and Harry Pearson (eds.) Trade and Market in the Early Empires, pp. 320-341. Glencoe, 111.: The Free Press. Pinto, Estevao 1956 Etnologia Brasileira (Fulnio: os uTtimos tapuias). Sao Paulo: Companhia Editora Nacional. Paula Ribeiro, Francisco de 1841 Memoria sobre as nagoes gentis que. presentements habitam o continente do Maranhao. Escrita no ano de 1819 pelo Major Graduado ln_ Revista do Institute Historico e Geografico Brasileiro, Vol. 3, pp. 184-197; 297-322; 442-456. 1848 Roteiro da viagem que fez o Capitao Francisco de Paula Ribeiro as fronteiras da capitania do Maranhao e da de Goias no ano de 1815.... Tn Revista do Institute Historico e Geografico Brasileiro, Vol. 10, pp. 58-80. 1849 Descrigao do Territorio de Pastes Bens nos sertoes do Maranhao. ln_ Revista do Institute Historico e Geegrcifico Brasileiro, Vol. 12, pp. 41-86. Plagge, C. 1857 Reise in das Gebeit der Guajajara-Indianer . ln_ Petermanus Metteilungen aus Justhus Perthes Geographischer Anstalt. Gotha III, pp. 204-206. 1858 Die Brasil ianische Provinz Maranhao. Iri_ Petermanus Metteilungen aus Justhus Perthes Geographischer Anstalt. Gotha III, pp. 73-74. , Polanyi , Karl . 1957 The Economy as an Insti tuted Process . K^'^l Polanyi, Conrad Arensberg, and Harry Pearson (eds.) Trade and Market in the Early Empires, pp. 243-270. Glencoe, 111.: The Free Press. Prado, Caio Jr. 1967 The Colonial Background of Modern Brazil. Translated from the Portuguese by Suzette Macedo. Berkely and Los Angeles: University of California Press.

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291 Prazeres, Frei Nossa Senhora dos 1891 Poranduba Maranhense. In Revista do Institute Hist5rico e Geografico Brasileiro, Vol. 54. Rappaport, Roy A. 1968 Pigs for the Ancestors. Ritual in the Ecology of a New Guinea People. New Haven and London: Yale University Press Redfield, Robert, Ralph Linton, and Melville Herskovitz 1936 Memorandum for the Study of Acculturation. _In_ American Anthropologist, Vol. 38, pp. 419-152. Reed, Nelson 1964 The Caste War of Yucatan. Stanford, California: Stanford University Press. Relatorio do Diretor Geral dos Indios da Provincia do Maranhao . 1958 Relatorio do Dr. Francisco Paes Barreto. MS. Rio: Biblioteca Nacional . 1887 Relatorio de Jose Carlos Pereira de Castro, Anexo 4. MS. Rio: Biblioteca Nacional. Relatorio do Presidente da Provincia do Maranhao, 1854-1883 Relatorio do Dr. Eduardo Olimpio Machado. MS. Rio: Biblioteca Nacional . Relatorio do Dr. Eduardo Olimpio Machado. MS. Rio: Biblioteca Nacional. Relatorio de A. Candido da Cruz Machado. MS. Rio: Biblioteca Nacional . Relatorio do Dr. Joao Lustosa da Cunha Paranagua. MS. Rio: Biblioteca Nacional. Relatorio do Dr. M. Jansen Ferreira. MS. Rio: Biblioteca Nacional. Relatorio do Dr. Silvino Elvidio Carneiro da Cunha. MS. Rio: Biblioteca Nacional. Relatorio do Dr. Cincinnato Pinto da Silva. MS. Rio: Biblioteca Nacional . Relatorio do Dr. Jose Manoel de Freitas. MS. Rio: Biblioteca Nacional . Ribeiro, Darcy 1962 A Politica Indigenista Brasileira. Rio: Ministerio da Agricultura, Service de Informagao Agricola. 1854 1855 1856 1859 1867 1872 1881 1883 1970 Os Indios e a CivilizaCao. Rio: Civilizacao Brasileira.

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292 Ribeiro, Darcy 1974 Uira sai a procura de Deus. Ensaios de Etnologia e Indigenistno. Rio: Paz e Terra. Rodrigues, Aryon Dall'Igna 1965 A Classificagao do Tronco Lingufstico Tupi. In Revista de Antropologia, Vol. 12, Nos. 1 and 2. Sahlins, Marshall 1972 Stone Age Economics. Chicago: Aldine. Salisbury, R. F. 1962 From Stone to Steel, Melbourne: University of Melbourne Press. Salvador, Frei Vicente do 1954 Historia do Brasil (1500-1627). Sao Paulo: Edigoes Melhoramentos. Service, Elman R. ' 1971 Spanish-Guarani Relations in Early Colonial Paraguay. Westport, Conn.: Greenwood Press. SPI: Servigo de Protegao oas Indies 1941-44 Bol§tim, nos. 1 to 31. MS. Rio: Bioblioteca do Museu do Indio. 1941 Relatorio annual . MS. Rio: Biblioteca do Museu do Indio. 1942 Relatorio annual . MS. Rio: Biblioteca do Museu do >• Indio. 1943 Relat5rio annual . MS. Rio: Biblioteca do Museu do Indio. 1954 Relatorio annual . MS. Rio: Bibl ioteca do Museu do Indio . 1959 Relat5rio annual . MS. Rio: Biblioteca do Museu do Indio. 1960 Relatorio annual . MS. Rio: Bibl ioteca do Museu do Indio. Siskind, Janet 1973 To Hunt in the Morning. New York: Oxford University Press. Snethlage, H. 1931 Unter Nordostbrasil ianische Indianer. Iri Zeitschrift fur Ethnologie, Vol . 62. Southey, Robert 1970 History of Brazil, Vol. 3. New York: Burt Franklin. Spix, Johan Baptist von, and Karl Friedrich Philip von Martius 1938 Viagem pelo Brasil (1817-1820), Vol. 2. Rio: Imprensa Nacional.

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293 Stauffer, David Hall 1959-1960 Origem e Fundagao do Service de Protegao aos fndios. In Revista de Historia, no. 37 (1959), pp. 73-95-, no. 42 TT960), pp. 435-453; no. 43 (1960), pp. 165-183; no. 44 (1960), pp. 427-450. Terray, Emmanuel 1972 Marxism and "Primitive" Societies. New York and London: Monthly Review Press. Unknown Author 1900 Roteiro do Maranhao a Goias pela provincia do Maranhao. In Revista do Institute Historico e Geografico Brasileiro, Vol . 62, Part 1 , pp. 6-161 . Velho, Otavio Guilherme 1976 Capitalismo Autoritario e Campesinato. Sao Paulo e Rio: DIFEL. Viana, Raimundo 1953-1958 Arquivo Pessoal . Grajau, Brazil. Vieira, Padre Antonio 1925 Cartas. Coordenadas e anotadas por Joao Lucio de Azevedo. Coimbra: Imprensa Uni versitaria. Wagley, Charles 1942 Unpublished Field Notes on the Tenetehara. MS. 1964 The Peasant. _Iri_ John J. Johnson (ed.) Continuity and Change in Latin America, pp. 21-48. Stanford, California: Stanford University Press. 1973 Cultural Influences on Population : A Comparison of Two Tupi Tribes. Jji Daniel Gross (ed.) Peoples and Cultures of Native South America, pp. 145-156. Garden City, N.Y.: The Natural History Press. Wagley, Charles, and Eduardo Galvao 1946 0 Parentesco Tupi-Guarani . ^n Boletim do Museu Nacional, no. 6. Rio. 1949 The Tenetehara Indians of Brazil. A Culture in Transition. New York: Columbia University Press. 1961 Os Indies Tenetehara (Uma Cultura em transigao). Rio: Ministerio de Educagao e Cultura. 1963 The Tenetehara. In Julian Steward (ed.) Handbook of South American Indians, Vol. 3, pp. 137-148. New York: Cooper Publishers. [Originally published in T948 by the Smithsonian Institute, Bulletin 143.]

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294 Wagley, Charles, and Marvin Harris 1958 Minorities in the New World. Six Case Studies. New York: Columbia University Press, Wolf, Eric 1966 Peasants. Englewood Cliffs, New Jersey: Prentice-Hall, Inc.

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BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH M§rcio Pereira Gomes was born on November 10, 1950, in Currais Novos, State of Rio Grande do Norte, Brazil. He received his primary and secondary education in Currais Novos and Natal, and graduated in 1969 from North Eugene High School in Eugene, Oregon. In 1970, Mr. Gomes attended classes at the Federal University of Rio Grande do Norte and at the School of Sociology and Political Science, in Natal, Brazil. In the same year he transferred to the University of Oregon in Eugene, where he received hi,s Bachelor of Arts degree in Anthropology, in 1973. A year later he took a Master of Arts degree in Latin American Studies from Tulane University in New Orleans, Louisiana. Mr. Gomes has been a graduate student in Anthropology at the Univerity of Florida since the fall of 1974. He is married to Ann Elizabeth Baldwin-Gomes and they have a son, Gabriel Thomas. 295

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I certify that I have read this study and that in my opinion it conforms to acceptable standards of scholarly presentation and is fully adequate, in scope and quality, as a dissertation for the degree of Doctor of Philosophy. Charles Wagley, Chairman Graduate Research Professor of Anthropology I certify that I have read this study and that in my opinion it conforms to acceptable standards of scholarly presentation and is fully adequate, in scope and quality, as a dissertation for the degree of Doctor of Phi losophy. Maxine L. Margolis Associate Professor of Anthropology I certify that I have read this study and that in my opinion it conforms to acceptable standards of scholarly presentation and is fully adequate, in scope and quality, as a dissertation for the degree of Doctor of Philosophy. Anthony Oliver-Smith Assistant Professor of Anthropology I certify that I have read this study and that in my opinion it conforms to acceptable standards of scholarly presentation and is fully adequate, in scope and quality, as a dissertation for the degree of Doctor of Philosophy. Paul L . Doughty Professor of Anthropology

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I certify that I have read this study and that in my opinion it conforms to acceptable standards of scholarly presentation and is fully adequate, in scope and quality, as a dissertation for the degree of Doctor of Philosophy. Terry McCoy Adjunct Assistant Professor of Sociology This dissertation was submitted to the Graduate Faculty of the Department of Anthropology in the College of Arts and Sciences and to the Graduate Council, and was accepted as partial fulfillment of the requirements for the degree of Doctor of Philosophy. August 1977 Dean, Graduate School