“His Majesty’s Most Loyal Vassals”: The Indian Nobility and Tuúpac Amaru
2004; Duke University Press; Volume: 84; Issue: 4 Linguagem: Inglês
10.1215/00182168-84-4-575
ISSN1527-1900
Autores Tópico(s)Politics and Society in Latin America
ResumoOn November 4, 1780, the cacique of Tungasuca, Don José Gabriel Túpac Amaru, seized Don Antonio de Arriaga, the Spanish governor of Tinta province (Peru), as he passed through the pueblo. For the next six days, Túpac Amaru held Arriaga prisoner, as a huge crowd assembled in the pueblo. Proclamations were read denouncing Arriaga's abuses and claiming that "[t]hrough the King it has been ordered that there no longer be sales tax, customs, or the Potosí mita and that Don Antonio Arriaga lose his life because of his harmful behavior."1 Túpac Amaru forced Arriaga to send for weapons and money in order to arm the cacique and his followers. On November 10, Arriaga was hanged in front of the crowd; immediately after, the rebels headed north down the Vilcanota Valley toward the city of Cusco, sacking the great textile factory of Pomacanchis on their way. Caciques from nearby pueblos actively joined or were caught up in the rebellion, and the forces grew dramatically.2 Within a week of Arriaga's capture, the upper Vilcanota Valley was in open revolt.After receiving news of Arriaga's execution, Cusco's city council met on November 12 and sent a regiment to quash the rebellion. At the forefront were Cusco's Inca nobles, who rejected Túpac Amaru almost to a one.3 To the south, the Indian nobility of the Titicaca basin also proved staunch foes of the rebellion. It was not for want of appeals from Túpac Amaru: as he marched down the Vilcanota he sent letters—alternatively cajoling and threatening—to leading Inca nobles and highland caciques asking them to join him.4 Don Pedro Sahuaraura Tito Atauchi Ynga, the cacique of Oropesa and the commissary of Cusco's regiment of Indian nobles, immediately forwarded the letter he received to the bishop, saying, "I leave marching with my people in search of the rebel, the infamous José Tupa Amaro, cacique of Tungasuca, who deserves an exemplary punishment for the perpetual discouragement of others."5 Sahua-raura and his troops, along with the city's Indian nobility, joined the royalist regiment and met Túpac Amaru's forces at Sangarará on November 19. The royalists were routed, Sahuaraura was killed, and the pueblo church was torched, killing those who had sought refuge inside. Túpac Amaru proclaimed himself Inca, the legitimate heir of indigenous imperial authority. So began the Great Rebellion, which lasted for three years and constituted the largest open challenge to Spanish rule in the Americas between the conquest and independence, in large part because it helped to spark, and converged with, a parallel rebellion started in Upper Peru by the Cataris (a Potosino cacical family) in January 1781.6While Túpac Amaru was vilified in the remaining decades of Spanish rule and largely ignored for the following century, since the 1940s, historians of all stripes have viewed him heroically.7 To nationalists, Túpac Amaru shines as a protonationalist, anticolonial leader who embraced both creole and Indian followers while rejecting Spanish rule. Some see the episode as a precursor to the wars of independence.8 To Marxists and neo-Marxists, Túpac Amaru stands as a revolutionary leader at the head of an Indian peasantry that rose en masse against colonial exploitation.9 Scholars of a more indigenist bent have viewed the rebellion as a rejection of both colonial and creole rule; the inevitable result of the profound injustices of colonial society, the Great Rebellion represents the reassertion of indigenous Andean ideals of time, space, and social relations or an eighteenth-century revival of Inca identity among Andean indigenous elites.10 Others have combined these two strains to locate the rebellion in a larger "Age of Andean Insurrection," in which violent rejection of the colonial order by Peru's indigenous peoples was endemic.11 In this view, the Great Rebellion represents the culmination of an indigenous anticolonialism that helped to provoke, and stands in counterpoint to, the creole anticolonialism of the wars of independence.12At the same time, scholarship over the past two decades has exposed the complexities of allegiance among the indigenous population and problematized the simple Indian-Spanish dichotomy. Scarlett O'Phelan Godoy, Magnus Mörner, Efraïn Trelles, and Leon Campbell first demonstrated that most of the leadership of the Peruvian stage of the rebellion was creole and that the overwhelming majority of the Indian elite (along with much of the Indian peasantry near Cusco) either actively supported the crown or did not join in the rebellion.13 Over the past decade, several works have directly addressed the role of indigenous elites in the rebellion and in so doing have expanded our understanding of the complex dynamics that drove it, as well as the hierarchies and tensions of Bourbon society more generally. Foremost has been O'Phelan's work, which has highlighted the benefits accruing to the uppermost ranks of the cacical elite under the Bourbon reforms.14 She has posited a loyalism among the indigenous elite that was rooted in royal recognition of claims of Inca ancestry and proprietary rights to cacicazgos, as well as the positioning of Indian nobles in the church and military. As a result, throughout the south Andes, powerful caciques who descended from the Inca emperors "did not participate in the Inca Nationalist Movement of the eighteenth century."15 Luis Miguel Glave and Ward Stavig have revealed the central importance of local and provincial politics in the development of a "pan-Andean" rebellion. Their work has focused on the particular case of Eugenio Sinanyuca, the powerful, non-Inca loyalist cacique of Coporaque (40 miles from Tungasuca). Here they have exposed how allegiances, enmities, and relations of patronage between caciques, corregidores, and Cusco's bishop determined affiliations in the rebellion, even in Túpac Amaru's home province.16 Working on the bishopric of La Paz, Roberto Choque Canqui and Sinclair Thomson have also examined the pronounced loyalism of the cacical elite there; in particular, Thomson has analyzed the radicalization of the Túpac Catari rebellion in light of the socioeconomic structure of the region and its communities and the division it produced in Indian communities.17Focusing on the loyalist Indian nobility of the bishopric of Cusco, this article seeks to contribute to this reevaluation by examining indigenous actors' patterns of rebellion and royalist loyalty, locating them in the social geography of the late colonial highlands, and excavating their various strategies of negotiation with the crown. In particular, it questions the identification of "self-interest" as the motivating force of loyalist elites and instead examines their actions as the articulation of ideologies fashioned by their positions in colonial society and their diverse colonial histories. The conditions of indigenous actors in late colonial Cusco were varied: the rebellion engulfed a vast region of indigenous communities and societies with varied social structures and positions in the colonial economy. The widespread loyalism of the Quechua-speaking agricultural communities near Cusco contrasts dramatically with the broad support Túpac Amaru enjoyed in the Vilcanota highlands, and again with the clear class differentiation (elite indigenous loyalism versus popular rebellion) seen around Lake Titicaca. Such divisions reflected numerous fault lines in the colonial highlands. Highland cities and their immediate hinterlands, bastions of Spanish settlement and privileged through the flow of rent and tribute, generally remained loyal to the crown. So too did Quechua-speaking Indians, whose communities were less internally stratified, suffered less burdensome colonial demands, and had more complex and personalized ties to Spanish society than did Aymara-speaking communities.The diverse histories of indigenous communities in the region also greatly informed both their sociopolitical organization and their allegiances in the rebellion. Cusco's history as the Inca capital left the city and its environs with a large population of Indian nobles, whose privileged position in colonial society was acknowledged and defended by the royal courts. For the entire length of Spanish rule, this Inca nobility used the courts to negotiate the demands of colonial rule and to assert its own rank and authority in the República de Indios. As concerned with indigenous pretensions to limit or rival Inca authority as with the demands of creole Peru and the crown, this Inca nobility (and the villages it dominated) had more shared interests and history with creole Cusco than with the provincial, non-Inca populations of the upper Vilcanota Valley. Túpac Amaru's claims to the mantle of Inca authority threatened the very hierarchies that the Incas of Cusco and the great cacical dynasties of the Titicaca basin so carefully maintained. Moreover, Túpac Amaru's violent rejection of royal authority (after his own legal efforts failed) was profoundly at odds with the Indian noble tradition of negotiating and contesting Spanish hegemony through the courts.18 Colonial Cusco did not divide simply into "Spanish" and "Indian." Túpac Amaru—and his foes among the Indian nobility—occupied particular positions. The actions of the latter should not be understood as simple creole collaborationism; rather, they manifest a distinct understanding of both how colonial society ought to be structured and how colonial authority ought to be negotiated.The Spanish policy of indirect rule in the Andes required an indigenous elite to preside over the Indian villages that were home to 80 percent of the highland population. Under the Toledan reforms of the 1570s, the basic material relationship of the indigenous population to the crown was defined as one of tribute, with adult Indian men owing a sum of money twice a year.19 To collect tribute from each pueblo, Spanish bureaucrats turned to local Andean lords (curacas, later denominated caciques). These caciques undertook extensive commercial dealings in the complex market economy that revolved around the mining cities of the Bolivian altiplano, thereby converting the surplus of their largely self-sufficient communities into cash.20 Many of them further extended their control over local economies by controlling factors of production that required investment, and building up networks of debt.21 Philip III's 1614 decree that cacicazgos should be hereditary through the male line further consolidated the authority of elite indigenous families.22That decree reflected a broader commitment to the hidalguía of indigenous elites. The formal recognition of Indian nobility had a profound effect on the organization of colonial Cusco. The patents of hereditary nobility that Charles V issued to Inca nobles in the 1540s left, by the eighteenth century, more than a thousand Indians in Cusco and its environs exempt from tribute and personal service.23 And although viceroy Francisco de Toledo's order for the execution of Túpac Amaru I in 1572 was an attempt to end the dynastic line of Inca monarchs, he also institutionalized the predominance of Cusco's Incas in the city's indigenous politics.24 This Inca nobility made up less than one-tenth of the Indian population of Cusco and its immediate hinterland, but they were of great importance in the region for three reasons. First, Inca nobles occupied the overwhelming majority of cacicazgos in the nine parishes of Cusco city and in the 20 or so pueblos within a 30-mile radius.25 Second, while only a fraction of the Inca nobility held cacicazgos, their privileges left them well situated in Cusco's urban economy.26 As merchants and skilled craftsmen, Inca nobles ranked among the city's respectable classes, while those in the surrounding agricultural villages constituted a small yeoman class. Finally, the Inca nobility had a strong sense of their history as "the descendants of the natural lords who were of these kingdoms of Peru in their gentility."27 Cusco's creole population, too, cherished its Inca past (and nursed a grievance against the predominance of Lima) and generally recognized the Incas' preeminence in Indian Cusco.28The size of Cusco's Indian nobility, and their possession of formal patents of nobility, were unique in the Andes; indeed, the proportion of nobles in Cusco's indigenous population rivaled that of nobles in Spain.29 But colonial Indian communities in general were stratified in ways that were recognized by Spanish officials and courts and that translated into the language and privileges of nobility.30 Since the basic privileges of Indian nobility—exemption from tribute and personal service and access to royal courts—were also enjoyed by caciques, the distinction between those who derived their privileges through blood and those who derived them through cacical office was fluid. Referred to in documents as principales, members of an Indian community's upper ranks often enjoyed the honorific "Don," a linguistic marker of their status and of the deference they expected and generally received.31 In 1762, the fiscal of the Audiencia of Chuquisaca declared that Don Lorenzo Mango Turpa of Azángaro, in recognition of his status, was "a principal Indian, and in consequence exempt from the obligation to [perform] lowly services in conformity with the [royal] ordinance which so orders."32 In some cases, these local elites were clearly the descendants of preconquest elites—among them, the Inca nobility of Cusco and the cacical dynasties of the Titicaca basin. Others were noble in the eyes of their communities. Whatever their standing in the eyes of crown officials, these were the de facto local Indian elites.If indigenous elites were ubiquitous in Andean pueblos, however, their organization, identity, and relation to their communities varied dramatically. Indeed, even between pueblos—or within parishes—the extent of Spanish settlement, the stability of indigenous communities, and the penetration of Spanish properties varied dramatically.33 Still, within this diversity, broad patterns do emerge. Cusco itself was a bastion of Spanish settlement and home to a complex trading, artisanal, and industrial economy dominated by creoles and Indian nobles. The agricultural valleys around the city contained scores of well-established Indian communities dominated by the Inca nobility, but they also contained sizable Spanish colonies and many Spanish properties. Economic colonization had created both haciendas and textile factories, some employing hundreds of workers. More than anywhere else in the southern highlands, this area saw the intermixing of Spanish and Indian.Up the Vilcanota, things changed dramatically. The provinces of Tinta, Chumbivilcas, Cotabambas, and Aymaraes were the most "Indian" in the region: in 1689, 59 out of every 60 inhabitants in Tinta were Indians; a century later the ratio was still 7 out of 8.34 Outside the heartland from which the Incas had expanded in the 1400s, the pastoral highlands as a region did not fall under the sway of the Inca nobility during the viceregal era, although some pueblos were ruled by lineages who claimed Inca ancestry. These provinces were both peripheral to the Spanish economy of Cusco and central to the larger colonial economy.35 Subject to the distant mining mitas in Potosí and Huancavelica, they had suffered enormously from the burdens of colonial rule and had high rates of migration, although Indian elites and the few Spanish settlers profited from fleeting the colonial trade.36 Finally, indigenous societies further south in the Titicaca basin descended from the Aymara kingdoms that had been incorporated into the Inca realms in the fifteenth century. With a mixed pastoral-agricultural economy, this region was a pillar of the Potosí mita and saw little Spanish settlement.37 Far from urban markets, these large pueblos entered the colonial economy through the sale of livestock, agricultural goods, basic manufactures, and labor.38This variegated regional economy produced a variegated Indian elite. The cacical families of small Inca agricultural pueblos near Cusco and of the great Titicaca basin towns like Azángaro and Copacabana all claimed descent from Inca emperors, but their roles in the economy, and relation to their pueblos, differed greatly. Urban Cusco loomed large in the Inca noble economy, as successful merchants and manufacturers amassed fortunes of thousands of pesos.39 In contrast, even the dominant Inca families in nearby agricultural communities were rarely worth more than three thousand pesos.40 Inca-dominated pueblos tended to be small, with Indian populations under five hundred. Since caciques' wealth depended largely on their role as tribute collectors and intermediaries between the village economy and the Andean market, the opportunities for accumulating wealth were correspondingly small. Moreover, the large concentration of Inca nobles around Cusco produced an Indian yeomanry—with small freeholdings and a strong sense of their privilege—that limited cacical dominance of local economies. Indeed, many Inca pueblos did not have established cacical dynasties, and the office instead passed between a number of Inca noble lineages.41 Finally, the large Spanish population of the area and their extensive agricultural holdings prevented the Inca nobility from dominating the regional economy. Much agricultural production and employment took place on properties removed from the República de Indios; the great and wealthy of Cusco were creole, not Inca.42In contrast, the cacical elite of the southern highlands, and especially the Titicaca basin, were among the richest Indian families in the viceroyalty. In general, the pastoral pueblos of Tinta did not produce vast fortunes; while in the absence of markets and Spanish settlements caciques did dominate local economies, these pueblos were again small and many did not have strongly entrenched cacical dynasties. In contrast, dozens of communities around Lake Titicaca had ruling families who had held power for more than a century, and often since before the conquest. The greatest of these—like the Choque-huanca of Azángaro Anansaya and the Quispe Cavana of Cavanilla—had fortunes of well over 10,000 pesos, at times approaching 20,000.43 While these fortunes paled next to those of creole aristocrats in the cities, they were by far the largest in their provinces. This wealth, coupled with tribute collection, the right to exercise corporal punishment, and generations of authority, made the cacical nobility the dominant force around Titicaca.In its organization, initial success, and scope, the Túpac Amaru Rebellion stands apart from all other riots and rebellions in eighteenth-century Peru, and certainly by late November—when Túpac Amaru's forces defeated the loyalist Indians and Spaniards of Cusco—the enormity of the uprising was apparent. But in its initial stages the rebellion followed a pattern increasingly common in the bishopric during the previous two decades. Arriaga was not the first corregidor in the bishopric of Cusco to have lost his life to an angry crowd of his subjects. Three years earlier, the Indians of Velille (Chumbivilcas) had killed the corregidor when he jailed the pueblo's cacique; in the same year a riot broke out against the corregidor in Maras (Urubamba). And in 1771 an angry mob had burned the house of Arriaga's predecessor.44O'Phelan has counted more than one hundred riots and rebellions in the viceroyalty of Peru between 1700 and 1780.45 The vast majority of these well fit the pattern of village riots described by Taylor in eighteenth-century Mexico: directed against specific grievances and particular officials but not intended, or understood by the crown, as challenges to Spanish rule.46 Corregidores and their assistants were the most frequent targets: a sign of widespread anger at the general abusiveness of these royal agents and more particularly at the expansion of the reparto and aggressive efforts to increase tribute rolls in the 1760s and 1770s.47 In the 1770s, the division of the viceroyalty of Peru into Lower and Upper Peru (with a land border at Titicaca) and the imposition of new internal customs levies provoked widespread unrest in highland cities hit hard by the taxes. These riots and local rebellions were fundamentally reformist, decrying perceived abuses of power by royal officials but doing so through appeals (however violent) to the crown to redress grievances. Insofar as the Túpac Amaru rebellion was a local riot spun out of control, these earlier uprisings are its forebears.Moreover, whatever its Andean aspirations, Túpac Amaru's rebellion caught fire due to the particular frustrations of the highlands south of Cusco. The provinces at the core of the rebellion—Tinta, Quispicanchis, and Chumbivilcas—were ill served by the Bourbon reforms. All three contributed to distant mining mitas. Indeed, the Great Rebellion was, above all, a mass rising of the area subject to the Potosí mita and began in the areas farthest from the mines, where the costs of transit made the burden heaviest. Adding in the reparto and tribute (which Túpac Amaru proposed reducing but not abolishing), the colonial burdens on these provinces were unusually heavy. Chumbivilcas and Tinta had also witnessed disproportionate population growth in the eighteenth century, with the Indian population doubling and the Spanish population increasing 30-fold.48 The division of the viceroyalties hurt the trade passing through the upper Vilcanota and the access to the altiplano market that provided some compensation for the annual migrations to Potosí. The rebellion drew heavily from the ranks of muleteers.49 While the third quarter of the eighteenth century saw an increase of open discontent in the viceroyalty, the Vilcanota and Apurímac highlands were a focal point. With the exception of the 1777 riots in Urubamba and the Silversmiths' Conspiracy of 1780, all the disturbances in the bishopric of Cusco from 1768 to 1780 took place in these three provinces: each had witnessed one substantial riot directed at the corregidor and colonial burdens following 1770.50Despite their clear roots in the local and regional grievances of the southern highlands, the interrelated phases of the Great Rebellion were also the culmination of an indigenous anticolonialism manifested in ideologically driven conspiracies and movements that developed in the mid–eighteenth century. Stern's assertion that from 1742 until 1782 colonial authorities "contended with the more immediate threat or reality of full-scale civil war, war that challenged the wider structure of colonial rule and privilege" exaggerates the situation, but in the half-century before 1780, opposition to the colonial order was increasingly conceived on the extralocal level.51 Only one such insurgency met with any success. From the 1730s into the 1750s, Juan Santos Atahuallpa, claiming descent from the eponymous Inca emperor, established a raiding "kingdom" in the central sierra, along the semitropical eastern slopes of Tarma and Xauxa.52 This insurgency did have a discernible anticolonial ideology, articulated through an anti-Spanish, Andean (and Inca) messianism. At the same time, Santos Atahuallpa established a territory outside Spanish hegemony by moving to the fringes of Spanish rule, not by overthrowing Spanish authority in the colonized territories of the Andes. And this took place hundreds of miles from Cusco, with little impact on the southern highlands.But two conspiracies in Cusco, which took place in the years just before Túpac Amaru seized Arriaga, suggest threats to the colonial order closer to home. The first, in 1776 and 1777, appears to have been more the intersection of Inca messianism and a local riot against the corregidor in Urubamba than a full-fledged conspiracy.53 As 1777 approached, there was widespread talk in the highlands of a prophecy by Santa Rosa that in the year of the three sevens an Inca would be crowned as king of Peru. In 1776 Don Domingo Navarro Cachaguallpa (a member of a prominent Inca noble family in urban Cusco) was arrested, along with Juan de Dios Espinoza Orcoguaranca, for plotting rebellion. In turn, they said that "one named Sierra" had told them that "[in] the year of . . . 1777, the next to come . . . all of the Indians of this kingdom must rise against the Spaniards and kill them, beginning with the corregidores, alcaldes, and other people of white faces and blond hair, that there is no doubt since the Indians of Cusco have named a king who will govern them."54 This "plot" came to nothing, however, and it is not even clear that Navarro Cachaguallpa and Orcoguaranca were punished.55In the following year, Don Joséf Gran Quipsi Tupa Ynga of Quito wrote to the captains of the Indian militia in Urubamba, advising them that "he had to crown himself [king] because the time in which the prophecies of Santa Rosa and San Francisco Solano would come true was arriving."56 In a reminder of the complexity of Inca identity—even in its millenarian form—he continued that, if the English invaded Quito, it was essentialThe effect of Joséf Quispe Tupa's appeal is unclear. That a riot against the corregidor of Urubamba began in the Inca stronghold of Maras in November 1777 is certain, and remarkable, since such riots were almost unheard of in Inca pueblos.58 In Maras's jail, Joséf Quispe Tupa confessed to a massive plot, and certainly letters had been sent far and wide in an attempt to build support for his claims.59 However, the actual tumult did not spread beyond the tiny province of Urubamba, and in its events and trajectory it resembled other local uprisings—the corregidor's house and furniture were burned, along with grain that he had collected from the province. The Spanish population participated alongside the Indian, and the riots did not draw much support from the Inca nobility.60 Despite widespread talk of an apocalyptic return of Inca authority in 1777, the Inca nobility of Cusco appear to have been uninterested in fostering the prophecy's fulfillment.The Silversmiths' Conspiracy of 1780 drew from a more elite segment of society and was overwhelmingly urban and creole, but it did have an Inca at its head and clearly manifested a creole-Inca political identity.61 Spearheaded by members of the silversmiths' guild (hit hard by a 1776 royal decree that they work only with minted silver), the conspiracy was betrayed by a conspirator in confession to his priest.62 Alongside the prominent Cusco creoles hung for their role in the conspiracy was Don Bernardo Tamboguacso Pomayalli, the 24-year-old Inca cacique of Pisac (Calca y Lares), who was married to Doña Francisca Ynquiltupa, daughter of an Inca nobleman and former standard bearer of the Indian cabildo.63 What provoked Tamboguacso to participate in the conspiracy is unclear. In December 1779, he had been jailed, at the request of the church, for a matter involving his wife.64 More generally, like all whose interests were tied to Cusco's grain, coca, and sugar trade, he suffered from the introduction of the La Paz customs and the increase in the alcabala. Tamboguacso himself stated that these created common cause between creole and Indian and led him to conspire, if not against the crown, at least against the reformed Bourbon order in Cusco.65Túpac Amaru's rebellion thus built on traditions of protest that were well established in the 1700s: local riots against abusive officials and an anticolonial Inca messianism. And he spectacularly succeeded in moving from local uprising to widespread rebellion, challenging not simply particular officials but colonial rule generally, and not from the margins of colonial Peru but from its very heart. This success, in turn, gave Túpac Amaru the opportunity to articulate his larger political ideology, something that, in their failure, the earlier insurgencies in the bishopric had been unable to do. But the extraordinary success of Túpac Amaru also exposed fissures in indigenous society that had remained hidden with the failure of earlier movements. Strikingly, one of those who exposed the Silversmiths' Conspiracy was Pedro Sahuaraura, a reminder that Cusco's Inca nobility by no means united behind the goals of Inca messianism or restoration.66 In general, though, people did not have to take sides in uprisings that failed to materialize. In November 1780, the populations of Cusco—creole, Indian noble, and commoner—were forced to choose their allegiance; in their overwhelming rejection of Túpac Amaru, the Inca nobility and cacical elite of the bishopric performed their own, complex colonial ideology.At Sangarará, Indian forces dealt Spanish rule its most significant defeat since the 1530s and shook Cusco's colonial society correspondingly. After this victory, Túpac Amaru turned south and west, and by early December the rebellion had engulfed the highlands all the way to Lake Titicaca. Success brought recruits: by the end of the year the rebel forces numbered perhaps 50,000.67 A handful of Indian nobles joined Túpac Amaru.68 Don Juan Pablo Huaman Sullca of Crusero (Caravaya) wrote to Túpac Amaru on December 9, 1780, advising him to beware of Spaniards and sending a book that showed the Spaniards had killed Túpac Amaru I.69 From an Aymara-Inca cacical lineage, Huaman Sullca claimed descent from the penultimate Inca emperor; he asked that Túpac Amaru "give me some title in the militia, since I enjoy such privileges as a descendant of Túpac Yupanqui." He also requested guns for his followers. Intriguingly, these he wanted so that they might "make war against the infidel Chunchos in the pueblo of Inabari," not against the Spaniards of the highlands.70But Huaman Sullca was the exception. Few others heeded Túpac Amaru's calls, and, like the Incas of Cusco, the cacical elite of the Titicaca basin remained overwhelmingly l
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