Conflicting evidence? Weapons and skeletons in the Bronze Age of south-east Iberia.
Aranda-Jimenez, Gonzalo ; Monton-Subias, Sandra ; Jimenez-Brobeil, Silvia 等
Introduction
According to an important body of social theory, the emergence and
institutionalisation of violence and warfare are inherent to processes
of increasing social complexity. Prehistoric Europe--and most
specifically its Bronze Age--has provided a suitable scenario to fuel
this belief. The warrior as a new social character appears during this
period, progressively expanding across the different landscapes of the
European continent.
The Argaric societies in south-east Iberia (corresponding to the
Bronze Age in southeastern Spain and spanning from c. 2250 to 1450 cal
BC) have traditionally been interpreted as conforming to this general
principle. Specialised weaponry such as halberds and swords have been
correlated with evidence of the existence of warriors and--more or less
implicitly--warfare. But, in common with similar examples throughout
Europe, the emergence of warriors and warfare has been pronounced rather
than explained.
Despite the leading role accorded to the warrior as a new figure,
it seems to us that the necessary connections between the rise of
warriors and their social practice and context have remained largely
unexplored. In recent years, several archaeological works have
concentrated on this remarkable phenomenon (Carman 1997; Martin &
Frayer 1997; Carman & Harding 1999; Parker & Thorpe 2005; Arkush
& Allen 2006) putting forward different causes for it, such as the
need to pacify the past (Keeley 1996; Vankilde 2003; Guilaine &
Zammit 2005).
We are also convinced that assertions about the rise of warriors
are related to the dominant discourse employed to explain past social
dynamics, centered on the construction of grand narratives and abstract
social categories and tendencies. In the particular case of warriors and
warfare, the emphasis on macro-scale explanations has ironed out
fundamental aspects of specific social interactions. That is also why,
in the literature on Argaric societies, concepts such as warriors,
conflict, instability, warfare and militarism are widely used but poorly
theorised.
In this essay, the main lines of archaeological evidence that
allegedly illustrate warfare in the Argaric culture will be re-assessed.
Up to now, the emergence of specialised weaponry has been deemed
conclusive proof of the rise of a new, warlike elite comprised of male
warriors. The other main source of empirical support for the prevailing
views is supplied by the characteristics of Argaric settlements
themselves, in relation to their location and some of their structures,
interpreted as defensive (Siret & Siret 1890; Cuadrado 1950;
Schubart 1973; Gilman 1976; Molina 1983; Castro et al. 1993-94;
Contreras e, al. 1995). While retaining the validity of such lines of
evidence, we will show how signs of intentional trauma in human remains
can shed new light on the debate. Building from these various sources,
we will offer an interpretation that reconciles seemingly conflicting
evidence. As applied to the Argaric culture, we will suggest that the
campaign linking specialised weaponry with the occurrence of generalised
war and institutionalised bodies of warriors deserves an armistice.
Argaric material culture: settlements and defence
Argaric culture is defined by a combination of elements including a
specific settlement pattern, the presence of certain kinds of metal
tools and ceramic vessels, and a distinctive burial rite. As a general
rule, Argaric sites tended to be strategically located in mountains and
hills with natural defensive features and a commanding view of the
surrounding area. In addition, some of these sites were also fortified by the construction of diverse and complex defence structures such as
stone walls, towers, bastions, forts and stone enclosures protecting the
higher areas of the settlements, as well as those with easier access. In
cases such as Cerro de la Encina (Granada), these enclosures achieved a
significant level of monumentality, requiring a considerable effort in
their construction and maintenance (Aranda & Molina 2006) (Figure
1).
However, the presence of defensive systems is not a new feature of
Argaric societies since they are well known in the previous Chalcolithic
period (Aranda & Sanchez 2005). In fact, the main difference
consists of the clear re-orientation in the location of many sites,
which has traditionally been accounted for in terms of territorial
control, defence and a generalised presence of violence in Argaric
communities. But this traditional view has been enriched by recent
surveys and excavations repeatedly confirming the idea that not all
sites shared the same characteristics. Their differences in size,
location and material culture have all been mobilised as evidence
suggesting that there was a hierarchical and territorially structured
settlement pattern, whereby different sites had specialised strategic,
social and/or economic functions and interdependent relationships. In
fact, it is now possible to distinguish four main types of settlements:
a) large, centrally located sites. Strategically placed, normally on
mountains and hills, they comprise natural and/or artificial defence
structures, and exhibit a significant accumulation of wealth in the form
of extraordinary funerary furnishings. Socially, politically and/or
economically connected with these central sites, we can also find: b)
minor sites, also on hilltops, with specialised economic activities such
as metal production or cereal processing and storage (Contreras 2000;
Risch 2002); c) small sites located in low lying areas of no strategic,
defensive concern. Particularly linked with optimal land resources,
especially for wet farming, they would support a specialisation in
farming activities (Ayala 1991; Castro et al. 2001); d) forts explained
in connection with specific settlements and the need to control
boundaries or the access to particular territories (Molina 1983; Ayala
1991). Although the picture is more nuanced now, the Argaric settlement
pattern still seems to reveal a concern for territorial control and
defence. Labour invested not only in the construction but also in the
maintenance of complex defensive systems seems to indicate that at least
some form of defence was perceived to be necessary. However, it is also
true that while the selection of sites with natural defence is a
widespread feature, defensive constructions are limited to a few
settlements (Molina & Camara 2004).
[FIGURE 1 OMITTED]
Burials, weapons and warriors
Within settlements, burials were usually located below the floors
of houses, in four main types of containers: ceramic urns, cists,
pit-graves and covachas (small artificial caves cut into the rock). Some
of these tombs contain funerary offerings belonging to four main groups:
pottery vessels; metal weapons such as swords and halberds; tools (axes,
daggers/knives, awls); and ornaments such as rings, bracelets, earrings,
diadems (made from copper, silver or gold) and necklaces (usually made
of stone beads). Tombs range from burials containing no grave goods at
all, to burials with a rich panoply of mortuary objects. Such obvious
variations in funerary furnishings have been interpreted as clear proof
of the existence of social differences at the heart of Argaric
communities. In fact, most scholars accept the image of a deeply
stratified society, with evidence of ascribed status in the form of
wealthy child burials (Lull 1983; Molina 1983; Contreras et al. 1995;
Sanchez-Romero 2004).
Paramount to our discussion is the emergence, for the first time in
the Iberian Peninsula, of specialised weaponry in the form of halberds
and swords (Figure 2). Together with other metallic items, halberds and
swords have been the focus of Argaric research and have played a
fundamental role in defining and characterising Argaric culture
(Cuadrado 1950; Schubart 1973; Brandherm 2003). Without exception, all
well-provenanced halberds and swords have been recovered from tombs,
where they were deposited as grave-goods. Interestingly, since the
beginnings of Argaric research (Siret & Siret 1890), these weapons
have been noted only in adult male burials. In the case of halberds we
know, in addition, that they belonged to men who were older than 35 and,
in many cases, older than 50 (Castro et al. 1993-94). Consequently,
gender and age discriminations would determine access to halberds and
most probably swords (unfortunately, at present, the age of men buried
with swords is unknown). Recent research based on radiocarbon dating
seems to indicate that the weapons were not contemporary and that
halberds were superseded by swords around 1800 cal BC (Castro et al.
1993-4).
Halberds and swords appear frequently in those burials showing the
most important accumulation of wealth and symbolic items (Figure 3).
Both types of object have been regarded as possessing the highest social
value among funerary objects (Lull & Estevez 1986). Only a handful
of Argaric adult males were buried with them. For instance in the Argar
necropolis only 15 halberds and 4 swords were documented from a total of
1035 graves. In fact, the number of halberds recovered for the entire
Argaric period must be estimated around 50. Even more striking is the
case of swords: around 13 according to the latest studies (Brandhern
2003). Consequently, social position would also be a discriminating
factor determining the possession of specialised weaponry. Furthermore,
the few available studies on archaeometallurgy tend to question the
actual suitability of such objects for combat (Hernandez 1990; Carrion
et al. 2002).
This highly restricted access to specialised weapons stands in
contrast to the more widespread occurrence of other metallic items.
According to Montero (1993, 1994), weapons represent only 1.7 per cent
of metal products (Table 1) and less than 10 per cent weight of the
total estimated metalwork for the whole Argaric period, which would have
been mainly targeted at the manufacture of tools and ornaments. It can
therefore be argued that specialised weaponry had a rather low impact on
Argaric metal production. This low significance is even more startling
when Argaric temporal and geographical factors are taken into account.
The Argaric culture spans a period of nearly eight centuries from 2250
to 1450 cal BC and covers an area of approximately 45 000[km.sup.2],
similar in size to such present-day European countries as Denmark,
Holland or Estonia.
One reason that the importance of specialised weaponry has
traditionally been overestimated is because axes and daggers/knives were
also classed as weapons and ascribed to the male warrior elite by the
majority of scholars (Cuadrado 1950; Castro et al. 1993-94; Contreras et
al. 2000; Risch 2002; Chapman 2003). Axes and daggers/knives comprise a
much higher percentage of metal production: 30 per cent of metal objects
and 83 per cent of the total metalwork weight (Montero 1993, 1994). But
unlike halberds and swords, axes and daggers/knives may serve
multifunctional purposes and be employed in everyday production
activities. Like most metal objects, they have been found mainly in
tombs; but while axes are exclusive to male burials, daggers/knifes can
be associated with either gender.
[FIGURE 2 OMITTED]
[FIGURE 3 OMITTED]
In this context, there emerges a fundamental contradiction
regarding the male-exclusive ascription of weapons. As has been recently
pointed out, if daggers/knives were weapons, then the allegedly
exclusive relationship between men and weapons has to be ruled out,
given that daggers/knives are also found in female tombs (Sanahuja
2007). To avoid this contradiction, the military character of these
items has only been emphasised when associated with male tombs. When
found in female tombs, the very same objects have been interpreted as
working tools (Castro et al. 2001), or as indices of the women's
family group's social status (Contreras et al. 1995). Needless to
say, such interpretive ruses only highlight the archaeologists'
gender bias.
Although the multifunctional properties of axes and daggers/knives
require further analysis, we are more inclined to regard such items as
working tools. In his recent and comprehensive research, Brandherm
(2003) has observed that daggers/knives or 'blades' (as he
prefers to name them, since there is no morphological distinction
between them) show traces of repair aimed at maintaining their
functional properties. Many blades were continuously re-sharpened, which
reduced, in some cases dramatically, their original shape and size. The
hafting-plates also show traces of different repairing marks, including
the renewal of hilts. All the evidence emphasises the tool-like nature
of daggers/knives and their use mainly in production activities.
Considering all the above, it is hard to imagine a context of
generalised interpersonal violence where the few swords and halberds
would have played a decisive role. Another important fact in the
framework of the present discussion is the absence of any other
distinctive elements--besides weapons themselves--identifying the men in
the tombs as warriors. It must be clear that we are not dealing here
with anything resembling the well-known warrior tombs with standardised
warrior assemblages that characterise later European developments
(Kristiansen 1999; Harrison 2004; Harding 2007).
Skeletal bodies
Evidence for wounding found in archaeological skeletons may reflect
purposeful aggression inflicted upon human bodies. It is true that
episodes of violence in the past may have outnumbered those we know of
from the picture conveyed by human bones. For example lethal wounds do
not always impact bones, we often lack complete and well-preserved
archaeological bodies, and people who died in violent encounters may not
have found a place of burial in their home villages (Milner 1999; Venci
1999; Osgood et al. 2000; Walker 2001; Vankilde 2003). Even so,
osteological lesions provide precious data on violent social behaviour
in prehistoric societies.
Although the earliest archaeological research on the Argaric
culture is coeval with the beginnings of palaeoanthropological studies
at the end of the nineteenth century, its skeletons have never been
systematically examined for marks of violence. More recently, analyses
at the University of Granada's Laboratory of Physical Anthropology
have addressed this question (Botella et al. 1995; Jimenez-Brobeil et
al. 1995). The results allow us to evaluate signs of physical violence
and, most importantly, their anatomical pattern, as well as their
occurrence according to age and gender.
In what follows, we will summarise the information obtained from a
sample of 155 skeletons from six different Argaric sites, all of them in
the Granada area. Table 2 shows their distribution according to age and
sex. Considering only lesions with a clear traumatic origin, 16.7 per
cent of the whole sample presents some kind of trauma, and there is a
slight difference between cranial (7.7 per cent) and post-cranial (11.6
per cent) lesions.
Twelve people, ten males and two females, had suffered cranial
injuries (more than one, in some cases). Significantly, all of them were
adults, mature or senile. Except for three cases, the lesions consisted
of impressions or depressed fractures in the outer deck of the cranial
vault (Figure 4). all of them were ante mortem cranial injuries
resulting from direct impacts, and show clear signs of healing. In terms
of sexual differences, male skeletons exhibit a much higher occurrence
of injuries as compared with female ones (20.8 per cent versus 4 per
cent). Chi-squared analysis of this sexual distinction provides a high
statistical significance (p = 0.02).
Furthermore, the shape of the cranial lesions also shows a high
degree of standardisation (Table 3). 79 per cent of the injuries are
circular or oval-shaped, measuring around 20mm. Depending on the impact,
the depressed fractures can be more or less severe (ranging from 0.5 to
4mm). They are most commonly located in the frontal (57.9 per cent) and
the parietal areas (21 per cent) (Table 4); and there is a higher
incidence on the right (57.9 per cent) versus the left side (31.6 per
cent). Again, all these differences are highly significant from a
statistical point of view. P values in males were P = 0.05 for the
location of trauma (in the frontal area versus the parietal area), and P
= 0.001 for the lateral distribution (on the right side versus the left
side), which means that there is probably a non-random explanation for
the higher rate of injuries on the right side of the cranial
vault's frontal area. Their significant prevalence in males, along
with their shape and their anatomical location, reveals a pattern that
renders the suspicion of deliberate aggressions highly plausible.
[FIGURE 4 OMITTED]
As for post-cranial lesions, they usually correspond to fractures.
Although distinctions between accidental falls and deliberate aggression
are difficult to establish, lesions of this type, unlike the above
described cranial injuries, do not follow a clear anatomical and
morphological pattern, nor do they show a significant variation between
male (20.8 per cent) and female individuals (14 per cent).
Taking into account all the above evidence, it seems clear that, at
present, the only signs of possible intentional lesions are derived from
cranial trauma. However, we must emphasise the fact that no evidence of
blade injuries has been found in the analysed sample, or even mentioned
in other palaeoanthropological reports (Buikstra et al. 1999; Contreras
et al. 2000; Kunter 2000; Lopez-Padilla et al. 2006). Whatever role
swords and halberds (even axes and daggers/knives) may have played in
actual combat engagements, their imprints on bones are non-existent.
Furthermore, evidence of violence-related mortality is also absent in
the archaeological record, since no bodies with lethal injuries have
ever been found.
In view of all the above, information on the burial context of
bodies with cranial trauma would have been very useful. Unfortunately,
however, most data on these grave goods remain at present unpublished.
Much could also be learned if anthropological evidence were reanalysed,
and we could establish whether males buried with specialised weaponry
were also affected by cranial lesions, and whether that particular form
of trauma can be seen in other Argaric areas.
Discussion
Bringing together all of the facts mentioned above, we must now
discuss if the supposedly structural character of warfare in Argaric
societies, and its link to specialised weaponry, may remain
unquestioned. According to the data hitherto reviewed, it seems
undeniable that violence, in one form or another, was indeed present
during the Argaric period. Its specific shape, however, seems not so
clear and, in principle, even contradictory. Although we have
fortification systems and specialised weaponry, halberds and swords
appear in very low quantities; and while evidence of trauma in skeletons
may indicate that lesions were caused intentionally, that same evidence
cannot be related to the sharp weapons under discussion.
In fact, as the term 'conflicting' in the title of this
paper suggests, archaeological data seem to be contradictory. Evidence
qua evidence, however, cannot possess such a quality; it is only by
virtue of our interpretive procedures that facts appear to be mutually
inconsistent. We often insist on elaborating unitary explanations on the
basis of evidence that may have arisen from different social activities.
That is probably the case in this instance, and the apparent
contradictions in the available evidence may originate from the fact
that interpersonal violence was waged at different scales.
The effort invested in the construction and long-term maintenance
of massive fortification systems has been interpreted by some authors as
obvious proof of warfare and actual attacks (Solometo 2006, following
Otterbein 1970). As indicated also by Milner (1999: 198), building and
repairing walls takes time away from other pressing survival-related
tasks and, in the absence of a regular threat, the need for
fortifications is difficult to understand (Solometo 2006: 30-1). In
fact, it has also been observed that perceived threats and readiness to
fight and defend are more widespread than actual combats and that,
sometimes, "defences outpace offensive capabilities' (Arkush
& Allen 2006: 7). That could be the reason why, in general,
archaeological indicators for mobilisation outnumber evidence of actual
destruction (Ferguson 1984; Haas 1990; Solometo 2006). In the case of
Argaric communities, the evidence for defence is also more abundant than
that for offence.
Earlier, in the section on weapons and warriors, we saw that the
only possible signs of intentional violence in skeletal bodies consist
in intra-vitam cranial trauma. If this was the case, the type and shape
of the lesions, and the lack of peri-mortem cranial fractures, are
consistent with hand-to-hand fighting episodes, and suggest that the
injuries may have been caused by a variety of different blunt
implements. Ethnographic and archaeological parallels also indicate that
practices of this sort, hitherto unsuspected for the Argaric world,
usually take place in a context of ritualised or highly regulated
resolution of violent conflicts, with few or no fatalities (Walker 1989,
2001; Turney-High 1991; Robb 1997; Wilkinson 1997; Schulting &
Wysocki 2002; Guilaine & Zammit 2005; Arkush & Allen 2006;
Solometo 2006). Although we are still far from fully understanding its
specific social meaning in the Argaric world, it is highly likely that
combat was not aimed at eliminating opponents, and almost surely age and
gender were significant dimensions, since no children show signs of
violence and there is a greater incidence on men than on women. If this
type of violence was regulated, with preordained rules on when, where,
how and by whom it should be enacted, then obviously it was not directly
connected with the construction of Argaric defences.
Cranial traumatism could not be directly linked to the presence of
halberds and swords, either. Not only were they not the weapons implied
but, people engaged in the above mentioned combat practices did not
usually have such weapons among their grave-goods. Besides, although
these practices were male-dominated, the presence of the same traumatism
in two female crania reveals that, unlike specialised weaponry, they
were not exclusively associated with males. In view of the above, it is
difficult to establish a link between this category of interpersonal
violence and the--allegedly widespread--Argaric practice of warfare.
Although both practices are not incompatible, they entail different
forms of conflict resolution.
Finally, we need to remember the rather low number of specialised
weapons that has been recovered, and the blatant absence of sharp
injuries in Argaric skeletons. These data support the need to reassess
the meaning given to swords and halberds, and question the assumption
that specialised weaponry emerged along with an organised body of
warriors and widespread warfare. We are aware that soft-tissue injuries
may not be detectable in skeletal remains and may thus become
under-represented. According to recent calculations, a person's
skeleton amounts to about 60 per cent of a body's target area in a
frontal view. This means that the chance of hitting bones with a random
weapon shot is 50 per cent (Walker 2001). But even allowing for this
under-representation, the fact is that the examination of bodies
recovered in the Argaric territory found no signs of blade injuries at
all. Such lack of evidence stands in contrast with the allegedly
extensive use of swords, halberds, axes and daggers/knives as actual
weapons by Argaric people. Whether there were warriors and wars, we must
conclude these weapons did not play any critical role.
Conclusion
How then is the presence of halberds and swords in Argaric funerary
assemblages to be explained? It seems to us that their very context of
deposition may point to the possible answers. We know the weapons were
selected to be deposited only in the tombs of a rather limited number of
males (ranging from adult to mature), who occupied a central place in
the community's social structure. Most probably, the artefacts were
related to the Argaric gender and power ideology, and served as emblems
of high-ranked maleness (for similar discussions see for instance Sarauw
2007). At least during the burial rite, these weapons could have been
used as individualising attributes, to differentiate and set specific
men apart from the rest of the group. At the same time, the display of
weapons in special social events (feasting, commensal practices,
funerary rituals, etc.) could have served as a warning, functioning as
an intimidating mechanism that contributed to the reinforcement or
construction of political power. They were a reminder of the capacity of
the dominant class to use violence if necessary. Although in our view
the social leaders would not be in command of a class of
institutionalised warriors in a context of widespread warfare, they
would nevertheless have the capacity to mobilise people and use physical
force under certain circumstances.
As in many other cases in European prehistory, the Argaric
archaeological record does not at present provide us with enough
information to thoroughly visualise the different forms adopted by
violence. The prevailing assumptions on the existence of warriors and
warfare have not favoured a penetrating scholarly debate, nor the
in-depth search for supporting archaeological evidence. In the light of
the available evidence, it seems clear that a single interpretation
cannot account for the conditions and circumstances under which warlike
practices occurred. Different archaeological evidence--defences, cranial
traumata and specialised weaponry--point to different categories of
violence and, therefore, to different scales, social costs, forms of
combat, levels of inter- or intra-group conflict, social causes, and
social consequences.
In fact, the aim of this paper was not to force all the disparate
evidence on violence into a single, harmonised interpretation, but to
critically re-evaluate the supposedly structural character of warfare
and warriors in the Argaric world. Although there is still much room for
debate, our research has shown how dubious traditional assumptions on
this matter are. Violence did happen, although in a very different form
than that imagined by traditional research.
Acknowledgements
We would like to thank Almudena Hernando, Margarita Sanchez-Romero
and Apen Ruiz for their helpful comments and suggestions on a first
draft of the paper. Additionally, we would also like to thank Martin
Carver, Antonio Gilman and Ignacio Montero for their valuable comments
and suggestions on the first draft submitted to Antiquity.
Received: 21 November 2008; Accepted: 30 January 2009; Revised: 10
February 2009
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Gonzalo Aranda-Jimenez (1) *, Sandra Monton-Subias (2) * &
Silvia Jimenez-Brobeil (3)
(1.) Departamento de Prehistoria y Arqueologia, Facultad de
Filosofia y Letras, Universidad de Granada, Campus Cartuja s/n, 18071
Granada, Spain (Email:
[email protected])
(2) * ICREA Departament d'Humanitats, Universitat Pompeu
Fabra, Ramon Trias-Fargas 25-27, 080010 Barcelona, Spain (Email:
[email protected])
(3) Laboratorio de Antropologia Fisica, Facultad de Medicina,
Universidad de Granada, Av. de Madrid, 11, 18071 Granada, Spain (Email:
[email protected])
* These authors have contributed equally to the present manuscript
and both should be considered as first authors.
Table 1. Frequencies of metallic objects for the Copper Age
and the Argaric culture (after Montero 1994).
Types Copper Argaric
of objects Age % culture %
Tools 355 60.48 449 15.74
Tools-weapons 155 26.40 793 27.45
Weapons 0 0 50 1.73
Ornaments 48 8.18 1540 53.32
Accessories 4 0.68 32 1.11
Non-classified 5 4.26 24 0.83
565 100 2888 100
Table 2. Frequency of cranial injuries by sex and age.
Number of individuals/injured people/frequency in %.
Age category Males Females Unidentified Total
Infantile I (0-6) -- -- 29/0/0 29/0/0
Infantile II (7-13) -- -- 15/0/0 15/0/0
Juvenile (13-20) 1/1/100 -- 11/0/0 12/1/8.3
Adults (21-40) 31/4/12.9 32/2/6.2 2/0/0 65/6/9
Mature (41-60) 13/3/23.1 17/0/0 -- 30/3/10
Senile (60+) 3/2/66.6 1/0/0 -- 4/2/50
48/10/20.8 50/2/4 57/0/0 155/12/7.7
Table 3. Cranial injuries by sex, shape and side.
Shape Circular Oval Others Total
Male 6 4 4 14
Female 2 3 0 5
Total (%) 42.1% 36.8% 21%
Side Right Left Medium Total
Male 8 4 2 14
Female 3 2 0 5
Total (%) 57.9% 31.6% 10.5%
Table 4. Cranial injuries by sex and position.
Front/
Position Front Pariet. Pariet. Tempor. Malar Nasal
Male 9 2 0 1 1 1
Female 2 2 1 0 0 0
Total (%) 57.9% 21% 5.3% 5.3% 5.3% 5.3%