Rogers Archaeology Lab

Resilience: Adaptation on the Rebound

The Maya didn’t just collapse, and neither did the other societies mentioned in my previous post about Jared Diamond’s book Collapse. The idea of collapse was a long-standing belief held by many scholars, but it just doesn’t make sense. Entire societies don’t just fall to pieces and vanish overnight, particularly ones that reach such high levels of sophistication. In fact, there are still Mayan people living in the same jungle regions, speaking the same languages, and carrying on similar traditions as their ancestors. The Maya didn’t disappear, leaving behind only ghostly pyramids covered in vines to show where they had been. In reality, they never even really left. Instead, they adapted to changes that were causing difficulties for their society and found a new way to live in the region.  No one knows exactly what caused the shift away from cities full of monumental architecture, but many suggestions have been put forward.  

 
Frederick Catherwood painting of the Pyramid of Kulkulcán in the Maya city of Chichén Itzá. (From the online archive of lithographs at the Frederick Catherwood House, Plate 22).

One of the most popular suggestions involves a drastic change in the climate of the region, specifically, a drought. There are, of course, many other theories involving everything from political mismanagement, and a souring of trade relations, to widespread war over resources and social turmoil. The mystery of what caused the Maya to move away from their cities may never be solved; but there are many other interesting aspects of the change in their society to consider. Among these, what mechanism allowed them to carry their language and culture to the present day, in the face of whatever changes forced the abandonment of their cities?

 
Modern day murals in Honduras depict traditional cultural elements of Mayan Ancestors.

The answer to that question is resilience in the face of change and quick adaptations. The Maya left their cities, instead choosing to live in smaller units, like towns or villages, which are still the social structure of the Maya people today. This move to a different organization technique allowed their society to absorb the stress of change and still maintain central elements of the culture, despite a structural shift. The ability to absorb the changes and reorganize into a new structure while still maintaining the original identity of the culture or system is called resilience and it plays a critical role in how social systems function over time.

Figure 1: General view of a resilient system and how the initial, current, and additional states are altered through resilience.

A resilient society will be made up of various interacting parts, which encourage “persistence, adaptiveness, variability, and unpredictability” within the overall structure of the organizational system (Gunderson & Holling, 2002: 27-28). This is referred to as “ecosystem resilience” and is best applied when dealing with a great deal of uncertainty. It also emphasizes understanding how much change can be absorbed into a system before the overall structure is altered. A resilient system can incorporate stresses into its structure without losing its stable or current state.

 
Figure 2: The black circle represents the society, and the arrows are stresses acting on it within its current, stable state (resting in the trough). The stresses try to push the ball up either side of the trough, but don’t succeed. As long as the society stays within the trough, it is absorbing stress and not losing its overall structural position. It is resilient. Even if one stress is significantly stronger than the other one, it would take a great deal to shift the society out of its stable position and tip it into an additional state (as indicated at the “threshold” peak on either side of the trough). Source: http://www.arctic-council.org/arr/resources/what-is-resilience/

In terms of a society, like the Maya, the organizational structure generally starts out as being one with fairly equal parts spread out over an area. As time passes, those parts (like villages or towns) unite into a more formalized group, with a central organizational point in one place. Eventually, this point or town grows in size (becoming a city) and holds more centralized power over the other, smaller towns that make up the system. Once power is centralized, certain stresses on the system as a whole are harder to handle because the resources are no longer spread around and immediately accessible by all the parts of the system.

Figure 3: When the society consolidates its resources and power too much, it can become brittle or weak. This would result in the society still maintaining its overall current organization (still within range of its trough), but shifting to a less stable state. In a brittle society, stress can be absorbed and allow the society to return to a more stable location (if the ball rolled back to the left) or it can be too strong and push society into a new position by crossing the threshold (the ball rolling over the peak and into a new position or trough). Source: http://www.arctic-council.org/arr/resources/what-is-resilience/

If a unified society is resilient, they can react accordingly to a change in their society or environment, using their centralized power structure as an advantage. The Mayan civilization was unified for more than one thousand years, suggesting that they were fairly resilient for quite some time. Much like the eventual weakening and final separation of the Mayan civilization, a system won’t always be strong enough to absorb changes like war, social unrest, or drought. Eventually, even a resilient system will lose its level of resilience and reach its threshold. This threshold is a tipping point, where the stress on the system can no longer be absorbed into the system without leading to change.

 
Figure 4: While a society is effectively consolidating power, its resilience is higher, a deeper trough formed by the dotted resilience line (benefiting from consolidation and organized structure). When the centralized power begins to cause difficulties, the resilience is lowered and thus more susceptible to disturbance from both external and internal stressors, as shown by a shallower solid line trough. With less resilience, the threshold is easier to reach and cross, leading to an additional state. Source: http://www.arctic-council.org/ arr/resources/what-is-resilience/

The Maya reached their threshold during the final century of the Classic Period (AD 250 -900). Their resilience was no longer high enough to over-power stresses, and Mayan society was pushed over the threshold. An “additional state” (a new equilibrium – see Figure 1), became the new normal, and the Post-Classic Period began. Up to this point, Mayan society had been resilient enough to shape their cities from a wild jungle and establish vast trade networks across the region. Their resilience had allowed them to build up complex government and a recognizable social system, but nothing stays the same and change happens. Modern people look at the end of the Classic period in Mayan history as a fall from power, a collapse, but is this really the case? Is the move over a threshold into a different state always a bad thing, or is that shift really an integral part of all systems, even social ones? Our own society has plunged into what has been termed the “Great Recession,” and it affects every part of our culture. Does that mean we, like the Mayans and the Romans, are collapsing, or is it just a symptom of changes in our stable state?

~Margaret Mariani, Research Contractor.

Works Cited:

Diamond, Jared M. Collapse: How Societies Choose to Fail or Succeed. New York: Viking Press, 2005.

Gunderson, Lance H. and C.S. Holling, Eds. Panarchy: Understanding Transformations in Human and Natural Systems. Washington: Island Press, 2002.

Resilience Alliance and Santa Fe Institute. 2004. Thresholds and alternate states in ecological and social-ecological systems. Resilience Alliance. (Online.) URL: <http://www.resalliance.org/index.php?id=183.>

 

 

 

Travels in Mongolia, Part IV—The Northern Mountains

This is the fourth post in a 5-part series on Dr. Rogers' archaeological fieldwork in Mongolia. See Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 5. To see the ethnographic collection that Dr. Rogers brought back to the Smithsonian, see the post Collections from Mongolia!

The difference between the Gobi Desert and the northern valleys is about the same as that between Death Valley in the southwestern United States and Yellowstone Park in the northern Rocky Mountains of Wyoming. It is the difference between burning sand and cool, lush alpine meadows fringed by green forests. In a period of about two weeks we had slowly made this transition while passing through all the environmental zones in between. After leaving the ruins of the ancient capitols at Khar Balgas (Black Ruins) and Kharakhorum we drove west and then north, first to the palace site at Doityn Balgas  and then Undur Dov. Along the way we stopped at the town of Battsengel to pick up a few supplies.

The Tibetan-style Buddhist monastery at Battsengel.  Photo by J. Daniel Rogers.

Years ago the Soviet Union assisted the Mongolians in building wells scattered throughout the country.  Unfortunately, today if you are traveling long distances it is essential to bring extra water. Many of the wells have fallen into disrepair. One well we encountered was chained and locked, a decidedly un-Mongolian thing to do. Sukhbatar, Erdenebat, and Tuya look at the lock in disbelief. Hospitality and sharing with travelers is a deeply important tradition in Mongolia. In the days of the Mongol Empire it was actually the law that every herder household must set aside food and drink for any traveler who should happen by. Who would put a lock on a well? We wouldn’t mind having some clean cool well water, but we got by on more questionable sources.

One of the sites we mapped on our way north was Kheremiin Tal (Steppe Walls). This is one of those large sites about which little is known. It consists of three square-walled enclosures with a few mounds inside each. The mounds were probably the foundations for public buildings. This general site arrangement is typical of fortified sites built by several of the different empires—a fortification with lots of open space inside the walls. When the sites were lived in, the open spaces were full of tents. Tents leave little for archaeologists to find, so the space inside just looks vacant.

One of my favorite river crossings of all my visits to Mongolia was on the Tamir River near Kheremiin Tal.  Where the road tries to cross the river, there is a tall wooden toll bridge of extremely questionable construction. As you look at the bridge you weigh the odds of making it safely or crashing down to the rocks, sand, and water below. It is plainly obvious that some people choose not to cross the bridge by instead driving down into the river bed when the flow is low. We were brave so we paid the toll and took our chances.

On July 2^nd, 2002, we arrived in Hovsgol Province at the palace site of Möngke (Mangu), who was the great Khan from 1251 to 1259. This is a small palace, with a single central mound to support a palace building and a low square wall surrounding it, about 500 meters from the Delger Mörön River. Möngke Khan had a series of outlying palaces in addition to his principal abode at Kharakhorum. Like the other khans, he traveled from palace to palace according to the seasons. His movements mirrored those of the typical herder family. The weather is hot and this is a dusty place. After one day we move on.

   A trench from an earlier excavation at the Möngke palace site. Photo: J. Daniel Rogers

After a hard day of rocky travel we reached the site of Baibalik (Uighur empire, ca. 700-800) at about 8:30 pm on the third of July.  July Fourth is another hot and dry day. To celebrate American Independence Day, Matt and I sing a breakfast rendition of the National Anthem. Singing is a common social activity in Mongolia and many people are good singers. Our colleagues were not impressed with our singing abilities. As we move out onto the site we prepare a map of the defensive walls, and begin a systematic transect survey of the interior of the largest of the three large square enclosures (Fortress 1). Amazingly, we found absolutely no artifacts on the surface relating to the period of site construction. Surface artifacts, like pottery or roof tiles, are scarce on most of the sites but Baibalik set a new standard for scarcity!

 Dr. Rogers sitting on a wall at Baibalik Fortress 1. Photo by Mathew Gallon.

We left the next day and headed further north, this time into the mountains. As the day progressed, dry lands give way to fields prepared for wheat planting, on the remnants of collective farms established in the Soviet era. Our trail rises in elevation and we see stands of larch covering the slopes. We stop at a mountain pass to make an offering at an Obo and we feel the cool breeze almost as if it is coming straight down to us as a welcome gift from Siberia, which it is. A few hours more and we reach the green valley of the Egiin Gol (“Gol” is Mongolian for river). 

Picture of Egiin Gol valley.  Photo by Albert Russell Nelson.

Erdenebat, and my good friend, Bill Honeychurch, from Yale University spent multiple years in Egiin Gol, covering nearly every square inch of the valley, recording every site. No one had ever done this kind of intensive survey in Mongolia before, mainly because no one believed there was much to find.  Erdenebat and Bill made a huge breakthrough as they found site after site. They even found evidence of the ephemeral herder camps up and down the valley!  Not only camp sites, but sites with “U” shaped walls, many dating to the period around the time of the Xiongnu Empire (ca. 200 BC to AD 150).  At one site, a Chinese bronze mirror was found; at another, a bronze helmet.

We camped on a high ridge above the river. We were told there was a French expedition studying Paleolithic sites camped only a few hundred meters down the river. In the evening we washed our clothes and swam in the swift cold river. No Frenchmen in sight. After dark, the rain and winds came.  The tent stood, but it did not make for a restful night’s sleep. The next day we learned that the French team had left the day before.   

View of Egiin Gol valley, taken through my tent door. Photo: J. Daniel Rogers.

 

-J. Daniel Rogers

In the final episode of the 2002 travels in Mongolia, the team motors back in the direction of Ulaanbaatar as the fieldwork draws to a close.