PROPERTY AND ECOLOGY IN MICHOACAN, , 1821-1910

By

MARK J. SMITH

A DISSERTATION PRESENTED TO THE GRADUATE SCHOOL 1 THE UNIVERSITY OF FLORIDA IN PARTIAL FULFILLMENT OF THE REQUIREMENTS FOR THE DEGREE OF DOCTOR OF PHILOSOPHY

UNIVERSITY OF FLORIDA

1997 ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

I wish to thank the following people without whom this dissertation would not have been possible. First, I thank the members of my supervisory committee: Murdo MacLeod,

David Geggus, Robert McMahon, and Abe Goldman. Professor

MacLeod has guided my studies since my arrival at the Uni- versity of Florida, and I am especially grateful for his knowledge, insights, and patience. During my stay in

Michoacan, my hosts Ben and Pat Warren provided assistance and support that was immeasurable. My thanks also go to the

History Department at the University, especially Betty

Corwin. The Tinker Foundation and the University of Flor- ida's Institute for Latin American Studies supported this research with financial assistance during my visits to

Mexico in 1995 and 1996.

Finally, I thank my wife Ellen and daughters Jocelyn and Regina for giving meaning to my life, and a purpose for any personal accomplishments that may result from this work.

ii TABLE OF CONTENTS

page

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS ii

ABSTRACT V

CHAPTERS

1 INTRODUCTION 1 The Property Question in Mexico 3 The Nature of Property 11 The Ecological Role of Property Rights 15 The Study Area 19 Plan of Study 24 Notes 27

2 EMPIRES AND ECOLOGY 31

Ecological Change and Formation. . . 33 Resources and Property Under the Tarascan State.. 37 Spain and the Ecology of the Patzcuaro Basin 49 The Colonial Property Regime 58 Notes 64

3 PROPERTY AND ECOLOGY IN THE NINETEENTH CENTURY... 71 The Cultural Geography of the Patzcuaro Basin. ... 72 Resource Use and the Objects of Property 82 The Village Property Regime 92 Conclusion 102 Notes 103

4 THE STATE AND VILLAGE LANDHOLDING Ill Disentailment Efforts before 1856 112 The Liberals and Community Land 121 Extinguishing the Community 136 Notes 142

5 THE REPARTOS AND THE VILLAGES 149 The Process of Distributing Property 150 Redefining the Property Regime 161 Community Sovereignty and the State 171 Changes in the Lake 180 Conclusion 183 Notes 184

iii 6 THE REPARTOS AND BASIN ECOLOGY 192

Individual Tenure and the Erosion of Community. . . 193 The Degradation of Property 202 The Process of Land Alienation 210 Conclusion 221 Notes 2 24

7 CONCLUSION 230 Notes 239

APPENDIX: NINETEENTH CENTURY AGRICULTURAL MEASUREMENTS. 240

BIBLIOGRAPHY 241

BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH 255

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

PROPERTY RIGHTS AND ECOLOGY IN MICHOACAN, MEXICO, 1821-1910

By

Mark J. Smith

August 1997

Chairman: Murdo J. MacLeod Major Department: History

This study examines the property regimes that have

operated in the Lake Patzcuaro basin of Michoacan, Mexico.

In particular, the study considers the change in the nine-

teenth century from communal ownership by indigenous vil-

lages to private ownership by individuals. The distribution

of land under the liberal Mexican government brought new

forms of resource use to some villages and reduced access to

resources in others. Thus, the change in the property

regime meant a new relationship between the region's envi- ronment and its human inhabitants —a new ecology for the

Lake Patzcuaro basin. The investigation attempts to clarify matters pertaining to property rights in this region of

Mexico, especially the nature of communal tenure that was altered by the liberal government. In addition, it de- scribes the ecological evolution of a circumscribed area of

v Latin America. Finally, the study offers an empirical case

study of the role of property rights as an element in a

region's ecology.

The study determined that for the basin the shift from

collective forms of tenure to individual ownership was a

complex, long-term process that was influenced by national-

level ideological currents, but driven in large measure by

state-level action. In Michoacan, the effort to change the property regime began as early as the 1820s and continued to

the Revolution. From the 1870s, villagers were willing or

eager to take advantage of the land laws to formalize their private ownership of the tracts of land they used. The result of this change, however, appears to be increasing land alienation and other ecological changes as the capabil-

ity of the land to provide for the subsistence of basin residents declined over the period. Further, the process of distributing property generated tensions in the basin, between communities, among community members, and between the communities and the state.

vi CHAPTER 1

INTRODUCTION: PROPERTY AND ECOLOGY

This is an account of a people's relationship with the natural world. Its binding theme is the role of property in that relationship. The study focuses on the Lake Patzcuaro basin in southwestern Mexico where the people known as the

Tarascans or Purepecha have lived for centuries. Although once a great empire dominating a vast area, the Tarascans now are greatly reduced in number and extent from their heyday in the fifteenth century. Nevertheless, Tarascan villages remain part of the region's cultural landscape. It is still possible to hear the Purepecha language spoken, and in the people's lifeways can be seen precolumbian roots.

As with all rural peoples, the residents of basin villages maintained an intimate relationship with the physi- cal environment for much of their history. The resources of the lake zone have long provided its residents with their subsistence needs, and so have shaped regional culture in deep and complex ways. In many ways, too, the human popula- tion has been a vital part of the Lake Patzcuaro basin's ecological evolution. The people have not only used the basin's resources, but have sometimes used them up, cut them down, or caused them to be washed away. 2

When people live close to nature, when they use natural resources directly for their daily subsistence, it is axiom- atic that they have some means for characterizing their ties to the particular piece of nature they rely on for survival.

In Western cultures we know this as property. Whatever it is called, societies have some understanding of what their rights are to a resource and under what conditions they may exercise those rights.

This study examines the property regimes that have operated in the Lake Patzcuaro basin. In particular, the study considers the change in the nineteenth century from communal ownership by indigenous villages to private owner- ship by individuals. The distribution of land under the liberal Mexican government brought new forms of resource use to some villages and reduced access to resources in others.

Thus, the change in the property regime meant a new rela- tionship between the region's environment and its human inhabitants— a new ecology for the Lake Patzcuaro basin.

The investigation attempts to clarify matters pertaining to property rights in a region of Mexico, especially the nature of communal tenure that was attacked by the liberal govern- ment. In addition, it describes the ecological evolution of a circumscribed area of Latin America for a period in which similar changes were taking place elsewhere. Finally, the study offers an empirical case study of the role of property rights as an element in a region's ecology. 3

The Property Question in Mexico

Between 1856 and 1910 the Mexican government decided that the country's Indian communities would cease to have sovereignty and control of land. In Michoacan, a Native

American village, which may have existed since long before

Europeans arrived in the western hemisphere, officially

became an extinguida comunidad , an extinguished community.

What did this mean? Clearly, people continued to live in their traditional villages, often farming the same land their families had farmed for generations. But the state had decreed that they would own the land privately, rather than retaining rights of usufruct under a system that has been called "communal" tenure.

In 1948 Robert West, writing specifically on the

Tarascan area, noted that the "historical process of the shift from communal to private ownership is not clear." 1

Similarly, Francois Chevalier mentioned the lack of knowl- edge about "the effects of the 1856 laws" on village land- holding. 2 And in their text on Mexican history, Meyer and

Sherman note that "the extent to which Indian communities lost their traditional lands has not been adequately stud- ied." 3 Much remains to be examined regarding landholding and the transformation of property regimes in nineteenth- century Mexico.

Scholars have routinely noted the "communal" nature of village land tenure prior to the mid-nineteenth century, but 4

they have not explored fully the nature of property rights

before or during this critical period of change. Property

regimes reflect a broad spectrum of relationships between

individuals and villages, and with natural resources. It is

necessary, therefore, to determine how these relationships

operated in order to understand the role property rights play in a region's history.

Most studies of Mexican rural history have at least mentioned the ways human groups characterized their means of

landholding, and many have made considerable effort to describe the tenure patterns and effects of their change.

For the most part, research has focused on "land tenure" rather than a more-broadly defined property rights. As defined by Barraclough, land tenure "is used to express the legal and traditional relations between persons, groups, and classes that regulate the rights to the use of land, trans- fer thereof, and enjoyment of its products, and the duties that go with those rights." 4 Such studies rarely consider the use of other natural resources such as forest products, fish, reeds, or minerals that may not imply ownership of the land itself. Reflecting a common belief, Barraclough notes that "territorial property is the principal source of wealth for the rural population," but wealth may, in fact, be reflected in rights to resources without regard to formal ties to a particular tract of land, as will be discussed below. 5 Further, it seems that land tenure is explained by 5

relying on a basic terminology including "communal owner-

ship," "common land," "," or a number of

variants. Seldom are the relationships that underlie these

terms explained or their implications considered. The

following pages consider the ways various historians have

characterized property rights in Mexico, and include a

discussion of issues raised in this literature. The purpose

is not to present a comprehensive review of the historiogra-

phy, but to offer examples of the general themes and concep-

tual problems associated with property rights in Mexico's

past.

According to the literature, indigenous societies in

Central Mexico on the eve of the Conguest were believed to

have had a "stable land system with rights, privileges, and

obligations that were well defined and well enforced." 6 In

this land system, pueblo boundaries and apportionment of

agricultural plots were the responsibility of community

leaders. Lands were alloted to community members for use by

individuals and families with rights often carried across

generations. As Francois Chevalier writes, "title" to lands "was vested in the community; the various crop-raising

families possessed only the usufruct." 7

Gibson provided a detailed review of landholding in the

Aztec regions in which various forms of community land are described, some "worked in common," some designated for

individuals. 8 Similarly, Pedro Carrasco found communities 6 tied by kinship and "by owning land in common. 119 For Roger

Bartra, the "communal property" of the villages reflected

"very strong forms of collective cohesiveness and coopera- tive labor." 10 In her 1995 study, Marjorie Becker describes the common-land ej ido as "the centerpiece of pre-Conquest

Indians' economic arrangements." She notes that "[b]efore the Conquest such ej idal lands had belonged to Indian commu- nities. Although the community owned the land, individual

Indians worked it both privately and as members of work teams." 11 The village lands also are referred to variously as "communism," 12 "collective holdings," 13 or "a village

14 community of peasant joint owners." .

Charles Gibson suggests that Indians had a characteris- tic "communal" understanding of land use in which the vil- lage or town controlled access to lands within is limits, including assigned agricultural plots and "common" forested areas. 15 In his work on the Indians of the Valley of Mexico,

Gibson points out that villages had a clear picture of lands over which they had sovereignty. "So precise was the Indian concept of terminos that viceregal grants of land to Span- iards in the sixteenth century customarily identified the tracts as falling within the areas of one or another Indian town." 16 West writes that "[e]ach community owned surround- ing lands, the limits of which were determined by metes and bounds." 11 The Spanish authorities formalized Indian commu- nity tenure such that villages were able to obtain official .

7

title to their lands that was recognized by the colonial government

Gibson notes that the Indians ' conception of communal

land "conflicted with the Spaniards' sense of absolute

property. 1118 Enrigue Florescano adds that Spanish authori-

ties reguired village land to be divided into "private

property, but with so many limitations that, as in the pre-

Hispanic age, it constituted only a right to the use of the

land and in no way implied ownership in fee simple as con-

ceived in Roman law." 19 Scholars have also referred to

"private" Indian lands within the community, generally held

by members of the nobility or tied to official positions.

Chevalier notes that among the Tarascans of Michoacan "sim-

ple peasants as well as notables held 'lands in their own

" 20 right,' . . .

Much literature suggests that the communal notion of

ownership remained part of the villages' "essential charac-

ter" through the colonial period and beyond. • In 192 3

George McBride noted the persistence of a collective "con- ception of property which seems curiously out of place in the world today." 22 For McBride, Indian landholding villages are "representative of ancient Mexican culture" that "have strongly influenced the entire land system as it now ex-

ists." Tannenbaum argues that twentieth-century landholding

"more or less perpetuated types of land tenure that existed before the conguest," and, in fact, "the survival of the 8 villages up to the Diaz regime was due to their communal character." 24 According to Eyler Simpson, the village's communal lands became "the prototype of the modern ejido." 2 -

Bartra, however, argues that "the ejido is not a form of communal ownership. 1,26 Robert West writes that "[a]s in many modern Indian areas of Mexico, the aboriginal concept of village lands and their established boundaries is indurated in the present political and economic structure of the

Tarascan pueblos." 21

But while some writers believe a communal "sense" remained strong among indigenous villagers into the early twentieth century, it is clear that the nineteenth century witnessed a dramatic change in the nature of property rights in Mexico. After achieving independence and passing through the chaotic early years of the Republic, the Mexican govern- ment distributed the communally-owned land to individual village members. According to the literature, the land formerly held only in usufruct became private property, and in many cases was alienated from the villages that had used it for centuries.

Scholars have characterized this change in various ways. George McBride wrote in 1923 that the "death knell" for communal landholding by the pueblos "was sounded by the

Reforma." 29 Simpson cites the 1857 Constitution as leading

"to the breakup of hundreds of communal groups. ... by substituting personal for collective ownership." For Simpson, "the effect of the Reform on the vast majority of

the landholding villages was little short of disastrous"

since most villagers had "no conception of the meaning of private property." 29 Donald Brand believes the liberal measures of the 1850s were "the real beginning of the almost

complete loss of lands by Indian communities." 30 Paul

Friedrich notes that the under Juarez "cut into the heart of indigenous villages all over Mexico." 31

By the time of the Porfirio Diaz regime (known as the

"Porf iriato") the general attitude called for the "destruc- tion of the Indian communal organization," according to

Frank Tannenbaum." Friedrich Katz writes that what had been

"serious inroads" into the lands of the communal villages, became "a veritable onslaught" during the Diaz era. 33 For

David Bushnell and Neill Macaulay, this was a period when

"ejido Indians who wanted to sell their birthright" were accomodated by a state that "speeded up" the division of communal lands. 34 In a recent study of property rights by

Janis B. Alcorn and Victor M. Toledo, the Porfirian period

is seen as a time when the Federal government "eliminated communal property rights." 35

This general picture has been clarified by Charles

Berry in one of the few local-level studies of the Reforma land laws. Berry shows how the process of disentailment took place in and presents a more nuanced view of the land tenure changes. 10

Here was truly Indian Mexico, and the Indians, unedu- cated, traditionalists if not Conservatives, desirous of perpetuating their ancient ways and patterns of life, and largely ignorant of the political guestions raging throughout the Republic, having contact with the Liberal programs only occasionally through infreguent visits by the district political chiefs constantly subverted the letter of the law, in two contrary ways: either by being overzealous in seeking to divide their lands in severalty, hoping thereby to avoid alienation; or by obstructing the division. 36 [177-178]

Berry makes it clear that application of the land laws between 1856 and 1876 "was largely a hesitant and delayed operation. 1,31 [186]

From the foregoing references we can see that one of the difficulties in exploring property rights may lie in the language available for describing tenurial system elements.

For example, what is the difference between communal land and common land? Is common land (the adjective form) the same thing as a commons (the noun form?) How do We define lands "owned" in common versus lands "worked" in common? Is there a difference between usufruct rights granted in perpe- tuity and private property with limitations? Is an e j ido a common grazing area, as conceived in Spain, or village-owned land more generally, as Becker and others seem to imply? 38

We may conclude from these studies that indigenous villages had some collective claims on a particular piece of land, but how was their sovereignty established? In the absence of formal title, how did a village make good its claim vis-a-vis other entities? What exactly does a vil- lage's "communal land" identify? Did an indigenous communal 11

sense of landholding persist as formal structures and elite

attitudes fostered the elimination of communal lands?

Another issue of importance suggested by the literature

concerns the meaning of "private" property. What does it

mean for a piece of land to be "private?" Gibson mentions

the Spaniards' sense of "absolute" property, but Florescano

argues that "private" property in some cases implied only

rights of use and, therefore, was considerably less than

absolute. Scholars routinely set communal land and private

property in a rigid opposition, but may we not infer that

each form had elements of the other? This point may be

crystal ized in studies of the nineteenth century when,

according to most scholars, communal land gave way to pri-

vate ownership.

Finally, most of the scholarship has focused on the

Valley of Mexico; can we assume that the property rights

situation was similar in other parts of the country, as

Berry found in Oaxaca? How did these forms of landholding

and the changes they experienced operate in Michoacan?

The Nature of Property

The concept of property of central concern to this study is fundamentally a social institution, quite distinct

from a resource itself. It performs an essential function in a social group by governing the rights, responsibilities, and powers among the members of the group, between various groups that may have competing claims to the resource, and 12

between the group and the resource itself. A. Irving

Hallowell offered a definition in which he saw property

rights as "institutionalized means of defining who may

control various classes of valuable objects for a variety of present and future purposes and the conditions under which

this power may be exercised." 39 Hanna and Munasinghe suggest

that "property rights regimes consist of property rights , bundles of entitlements defining rights and duties in the

use of natural resources, and property rules , the rules under which those rights and duties are exercised.*" 0 For the purposes of studying the history of the role of property rights, then, it is insufficient to say that a village owns a particular piece of land since this tells us only one of the relationships involved. The possibilities for a property rights regime in a particular region are infinite, given the possible combinations of social structures and environmental conditions that may exist. Property regimes, therefore, do not comprise categories such as "communal ownership" versus "private property" in rigid opposition, but reflect a unique synthesis of circumstances for the region in question. Further, verbal designations for prop- erty relations cannot elaborate fully such institutions when different cultures are involved.

The means of characterizing property rights are inevi- tably local, but for the purposes of this study it is neces- sary to specify characteristics of property to be able to .

13 explain the nature of the historical changes experienced.

The literature makes frequent reference to "communal" prop- erty or "commons," sometimes as distinct tenure forms, but often interchangeably. Both uses suggest "property rights which assure individuals access to resources over which they have collective claims." 41 In these forms, effective prop- erty regimes should provide a number of essential functions.

First, they guarantee access rights to vital resources for all members of the community. Second, they provide the means for equity in resource access and conflict resolution when conditions change. Finally, they help to ensure con- servation by establishing rules for maintaining resources across generations. 42

Piers Blaikie and Harold Brookfield suggest that "a common" implies property that can be identified by three characteristics

First, it is subject to individual use but not to individual possession. Secondly, it has a number of users who have independent rights of use. This implies that a common ceases to be one if one user or some group of users, or an outside person or institution can control the use made by others without their consent. Thirdly, users constitute a collectivity and together have a right to exclude others who are not members of that collectivity. 43

The authors point out that these factors "imply that a degree of co-ordination between users is necessary to create rules of use and exclusion and to enforce them," 44 which constitutes the property regime. The term "communal prop- erty" is best used when individuals have use rights to 14 specified tracts of land over which a community has, or claims to have, sovereignty vis-a-vis those who are not members. Communal property may or may not imply formal title to the property, but "ownership" in this case is vested in the collective rather than in the individual —the factor that distinguishes it from private property.

At times the collectivity may constitute such a large group that the property is essentially open access. Common grazing land, a medieval institution that was carried to the

New World, is a good example of land that allowed access to anyone, but that had rights limited to the pasturing of livestock. These lands generally were not tied to a particular community and, therefore, can be seen as distinct from the communally-owned ej ido of the colonial period.

In order to answer basic guestions about a particular property regime we must examine not only the terminology used to describe rights to resources, but the specific ecological conditions that obtain for the region in gues- tion. How were resources used? What objects (resources) enter into a system of property rights? How are rights to use particular resources specified for members of a commu- nity? What are the duties to use the resource for particu- lar ends, or to maintain it for future generations? How does a society ensure compliance with the conventions of the property rights regime? To what extent is the village's sovereignty over a resource recognized by other entities? —

15

The Ecological Role o f Property Rights

Ecology here refers to the totality of organisms in a

given space, interacting with each other and with the non-

living environment. This definition, of course, includes

humans and their activities; it encompasses more than the

visible landscape. As conceptualized by Murray Bookchin,

ecology "must include humanity's role in the natural world

specifically, the character, form, and structure of human-

ity's relationship with other species and with the inorganic

" ,5 substrate of the biotic environment . Ecological change,

therefore, means a shift in the interactions among the human

residents and nonhuman elements of a particular environment.

An environment has many natural components such as

soil, water, forests, fish, and wildlife that exist exclu-

sive of human society. These components become natural

resources only when they are culturally defined as such by virtue of providing, or potentially providing, a means of

subsistence for resident human populations. Humans develop various ways to exploit the natural resources of their region based on the characteristics of the resource, the structure of the society, and the overall environmental context in which they live. Often, long-term informal observation of environmental conditions and gradual evolu- tion of human responses form the basis for linkages with the natural world. In some cases, however, linkages are built in response to rapid changes brought about by external 16

forces or internal pressures. The particular form that a

linking mechanism takes is determined in large measure by

the environmental conditions, the prevailing economy, and

the social formation in which it operates. 46

In short, mechanisms for linking human and environmen-

tal systems provide the means for using natural resources

and, consequently , for ensuring the survival of the human population. Within the past few millenia, human-nature

interactions have most often been carried out in a context

where humans are organized in social groups based on seden-

tary agriculture. Natural resource use and land tenure is

tied closely to the social and economic functions of the

agricultural village. 47 The village provides for collective

mechanisms, in "technical" and "social" forms, that have as

their primary function access to resources.

It is a basic assumption of this study that the prop-

erty rights regime is an essential element in a region's ecology. The property regime provides a structure for exploiting, managing, and controlling natural resources. 46

It links a functioning environmental system with the resi- dent social system and, thus, has important implications for the use of natural resources. An effective property rights regime performs functions pertaining to resource access and allocation, to mode of resource use, to coordination of users, and to conservation of resources. It can balance social equity with economic exploitation, and provide a means for conflict resolution when social or environmental

conditions change. At the same time, a property regime that

is not congruent with its environmental and social context

may allow profligacy over prudence in the use of resources

or inhibit access to those who rely on nature for their

subsistence needs. Either way, the systems by which prop-

erty rights are governed determine in large measure the

nature of the relationship between a people and the environ-

ment they inhabit.

Thus, a property rights regime and a region's ecology

coevolve; changes in one necessarily effect changes in the

other. For example, increasing rainfall may raise water

levels such that lakeshore residents lose agricultural lands

near their villages, as occurred at Lake Patzcuaro in the

fifteenth century. At the same time, they may gain marsh areas that can be exploited for reeds or other lacustrine products. In such a scenario it is possible that state structures will develop to provide access to agricultural lands outside the zone while specifying rights to the new resources in reeds. Similarly, demographic collapse, as in the sixteenth century, may reduce human-induced environmen- tal change while fostering formal mechanisms for the acqui- sition of the vacated lands. To use a more contemporary example, state governments may seek to eliminate communal subsistence plots in order to develop market-oriented small farmers. The new landowners may choose or be forced to sell 18

their lands to entrepreneurs who cut large amounts of timber

for export markets. Each of these examples, drawn from the Patzcuaro basin experience, suggest the interconnections

between property regimes and ecology. Alterations may be

gradual, as in climatic change, or abrupt, as when colonial

rulers congregated dispersed settlers in villages.

Among the elements that is affected when a region's

ecology changes is the knowledge system that forms the basis

for the use of natural resources. All groups have a tradi-

tional, acguired ecological knowledge that reflects their

understanding of the natural processes of which they are a

part. It can be defined as "a cumulative body of knowledge

and beliefs, handed down through generations by cultural transmission, about the relationship of living beings . . .

with their environment." 49 The customs and practices of a

group toward the environment are expressions of this knowl-

edge and, therefore, can reveal much of what people know

about the world they inhabit. The rights and rules people have toward natural resources is a central element of a group's traditional ecological knowledge. The basis for all such knowledge is place-specific, tied to the particular ecological and cultural context in which it operates. 50

One of the major dynamics of change in a given region is the arrival of foreign knowledge systems, themselves informed by a different ecological and social context. In such a case, a degree of acculturation can be expected as .

19

well as a degree of conflict as the knowledge systems and

their accompanying ecological practices converge. Tradi-

tional knowledge may not be impinged directly by the new

forms, but generally is altered by new modes of production

brought from outside. When this happens it is often the

case that the new system is less well adapted to its social

and physical environment such that disruptions occur, per-

haps not revealed unless viewed over a long time span. The

disruptions may result in an economically less efficient use

of natural resources, in a decline in the socially eguitable

use of resources, or in ecologically nonsustainable use of

resources. This occurrence has been most notable in the

Americas with the arrival of European knowledge systems in

the sixteenth century and in the nineteenth century when

ideas and principles formed since the Enlightenment came to

be applied in the Western Hemisphere. The literature typi-

cally has portrayed the replacement or alteration of tradi-

tional knowledge by European, liberal, or "scientific"

tenets as fundamentally disruptive in the ways mentioned

above 51

The Study Area

Lake Patzcuaro is located about 250 kilometers west of

Mexico City in the volcanic highlands of the state of

Michoacan. Facing west from a vantage point atop Cerro

Tariacuri, the visitor would see a picturesgue lake of about

126 sguare kilometers forming a rough letter C, with the top .

and botton curving to his right and left. The lake fills a

depression within a range of volcanic cones that sometimes

rise up rapidly from the water's edge or ascend more gradu-

ally to their peaks some distance away. From the surface of

the lake at about two thousand meters above sea level can be

seen dozens of peaks in all directions, many old and rounded

in shape, but others with the characteristically flat sum- mits of more recent volcanic origin. The cones often extend more than a thousand meters above the lake's surface, with the Cerro El Z irate to the northeast climbing to 3,240 meters

A boat trip from the docks at Patzcuaro city in the southeastern arm of the lake to the northeastern end near

Santa Fe de La Laguna would be a trip of a little more than twenty kilometers. Along the way the visitor would travel past reedy shallows near the shoreline that often give way to gently sloping or flat lands currently occupied by the lakeshore communities and their fields. The shoreline is more abrupt in the central section where the lake is sgueezed to less than three kilometers in width between the cerros Tariacuri and El Bosgue. The traveller would encoun- ter the four central islands in the lake, old volcanic hilltops that rise steeply from the lake surface and are home to small, mostly-indigenous communities. The dramatic

Janitzio, topped by its monumental statue of Morelos, has a resident population of nearly fifteen hundred. 21 22

Lake Patzcuaro is shallow, reaching a maximum depth of

fifty feet in the northern end. There are no large surface

inlets or outlets, rainfall and, perhaps, underwater crev-

ices providing for the fluctuations in the lake level. The

Patzcuaro drainage zone encompasses about one thousand square kilometers.

In the vicinity of the lake there are few large tracts

of level land. The traveller setting out overland would

find the going difficult, the terrain being very rugged as

one moves away from the flats along the lake shore. Old

lava flows, steep hillsides, and deep ravines make human occupation, or even passage, all but impossible in some areas. Permanent water courses in the basin are few and the only water transportation would be on the lake itself.

Vegetation around the lake is generally lush and ver- dant. Within a kilometer or so of the shoreline, the gen- eral appearance is of dense, thorny scrub. Agave, tree yucca, acacia, and brambles fill much of the area between the planted fields, homesites, and villages. Tall trees of any kind are few in number and there is little that could be described as forest or woodland. As one moves away from the lake, oaks and pines are more common, with considerable forested land still apparent in the higher Sierra.

The lake zone has a fairly cool climate, although with somewhat warmer winters than in the higher Sierra regions.

Temperatures average 16°C, reaching a maximum of 37°C and a ,

23

minimum 5°C; the warmest months are April and May, and frost

occurs only occasionally in December and January. Most of

the rainfall comes in the form of summer thundershowers

with total annual precipation for the lake area at just over one thousand millimeters.

Most of the soils in the basin are reddish-brown clay

types that developed from the weathering of volcanic rock.

Found for the most part on the lower slopes, these

" charanda " soils erode quickly when moisture evaporates

during the dry months and plant cover is removed. Better

soils exist at higher elevations and at the lakeshore, but

they are limited in extent for agricultural use. Cornfields

are the most commonly-seen agricultural application. The

crop is planted nearly to the water's edge in many areas and

often occupies the fertile soils exposed by the declining lake surface.

Driving around the lake the visitor can identify as

many as thirty communities ranging in size from the cities

of Patzcuaro and Quiroga to the small villages Ojo de Agua

and Cucuchucho. The latter are typical of other villages in

Mexico, laid out on a grid pattern with the town square and church at the center. The lakeshore communities differ from those of the higher Sierra in that they are built of adobe bricks with tile roofs rather than wood and shakes. Wood, being scarce around the lake, is not commonly used for building while the clayey soils and abundance of water make 24 adobe construction the better choice. Where the walls are unpainted, the adobe gives villages the reddish-brown ap- pearance of the soils from which the bricks are made."

The larger cities and towns have a mixed cultural character, but the small villages retain strong indigenous elements and carryovers from the colonial period. On the narrow, cobbled or packed-earth streets women carry their bundles of reeds to be woven into mats for domestic use or

Christmas ornaments for the tourist trade. Teams of oxen are driven to the adjacent fields of maize, and mules bring loads of firewood from the now-distant woodlots. Fishermen pole their canoes along the lakeshore, hoping to net the

pescado bianco , the delicate whitefish whose numbers are dwindling.

Plan of the Study

The foregoing sketch provides an overview of the set- ting in which the following account takes place. Of course, the description provided is of the present-day conditions at

Lake Patzcuaro and its environs. Over the centuries covered by this account the physical and human landscapes have changed in many ways, although the changes have often been subtle, visible only through the lens of history.

Since a region's ecology is a product of natural pro- cesses, social systems, human values, and an economic order, an account of its ecological history must include an under- standing of the ways in which humans express and manage 25

their relationship to the natural environment of which they

are a part. Therefore, this study examines how the human

residents of the basin lived in the lake zone and used its

resources, with the role of property regimes in that rela-

tionship being the fundamental historical issue that is

explored. Since the literature has noted freguently the

change in the nineteenth century from "communal" tenure to

private property, documentary sources from that period are

examined to determine how this change took place.

In Chapter Two, the study explains the early evolution

of the region's ecology and its accompanying property rights regimes. It shows how formal systems of property rights emerged from their origins under the Tarascan state through their combination with European forms during the Spanish colonial period. This was a period of "ecological revolu- tions" when the relationship between the basin's human residents and their environment was transformed. How prop- erty rights played a part in that transformation is a cen- tral concern of the chapter.

Chapter Three outlines the forms and characteristics of resource use, as well as the physical environment in the basin during the nineteenth century. The chapter reviews the nature of the property rights regime that would be altered in the second half of the century, especially the collective elements that the government would attempt to eliminate. .

The postcolonial political and ideological currents are

discussed in Chapter Four in an attempt to show how liberal

tenets informed the efforts to remake the country's land

tenure system. The chapter outlines the evolution of these

efforts up to 1910 and explains the role of village ecology

in shaping that evolution.

The process by which the repartos were conducted after

1867 is the primary focus of Chapter Five. The efforts to

eliminate legally the indigenous communities and to distrib-

ute land to individuals are described with a particular

emphasis on the villages in the Patzcuaro basin. The chap-

ter examines the repartos de tierras for individual villages

to explore how land distribution was carried out at the

local level.

Chapter Six considers the changes in the basin that

resulted from the new property regime. It examines the new

relationship between the human residents of the basin and

the environment in which they lived. In other words, what happened when land became privately owned?

The study is summarized in Chapter Seven, and concludes with a discussion of its results. With the study's findings

in mind, it assesses the historiography on the late nine- teenth century changes, suggests the validity of the prop- erty rights literature for the Patzcuaro case, and discusses the implications of the research for today's ecological concerns . . ,

27

Notes

'Robert C. West, Cultural Geography of the Modern Tarascan Area (Westport, CT: Greenwood Press, 1948), 32.

2 Francois Chevalier, Land and Society in Colonial Mexico; The Grea t Hacienda (Berkeley: University of Califor- nia Press, 1963), 219.

! Michael C. Meyer and William L. Sherman, The Course of Mexican History (Oxford: Oxford University, 1991), 378.

'Solon Barraclough, Agrarian Structure in Latin America (Lexington, MA: D.C. Heath and Co., 1973), xvii.

-Ibid.

6 Frank Tannenbaum, The Mexi can Agrarian Revolution (New York: Archon Books, 1968), 3.

Chevalier, 17.

8 Charles Gibson, The Aztecs Under Spanish Rule: A History of the Indians of the Valley of Mexico (Sanford: Stanford University Press, 1964), 257.

'Pedro Carrasco, Tarascan Folk Religion: An Analysis of Economic. Social, and Religiou s Interact! nns (New Orleans: Middle American Research Institute, Tulane, 1952), 2.

:o Roger Bartra, Agrarian Structure and Political Pnwpr in Mexico (Baltimore: Johns Hopkins University Press, 1993) 79

i: Marjorie Becker, Setting the Virgin on Fire: T.azam Carde nas, Michoacan Peasants, and the Redemption of the (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1995) , 73

12 Eyler Simpson, The Eiido: Mexico' s Way Out (Chapel Hill: University of North Carolina Press, 1937), 193.

15 George M. McBride, The Land Systems of Mexico (New York: American Geographical Society, 1923), 103.

'Sorokin, guoted in Carrasco, Tarascan Folk r 12.

"Gibson, Aztecs .

:6 Ibid, 270.

West, 32. 28

18 Charles Gibson in Colonial Spanish America , Leslie Bethell, ed. (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1987), 361.

19 Enrique Florescano in Colonial Spanish America , Leslie Bethell, ed. (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1987), 258.

"Chevalier, 18.

21 Tannenbaum, 4.

"McBride, 103.

"Ibid, 111.

2, Tannenbaum, 4, 14.

"Eyler Simpson, 14.

26 Bartra, 94.

"West, 32.

"McBride, 129.

29 Eyler Simpson, 24-25.

"Donald D. Brand, Ouiroaa: A Mexican Municipio Smithso- nian Institution, Institute of Social Anthropology, Publica- tion No. 11. (Washington: U.S. Government Printing Office, 1951), 54.

n Paul Friedrich, Agrarian Revolt in a Mexican Village (New York: Prentice-Hall, 1970), 2.

32 Tannenbaum, 14.

"Friedrich Katz, "The ," in Mexico Since

Independence , Leslie Bethell, ed. (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1987), 94.

3, David Bushnell and Neill Macaulay, The Emergence of Latin America in the Nineteenth Century (New York: Oxford University Press, 1988), 208.

"Janis B. Alcorn and Victor M. Toledo, "The Role of

Tenurial Shells in Ecological Sustainability : Property Rights and Natural Resource Management in Mexico," in Property Rights in a Social and Ec ological Context f Susan Hanna and Mohan Munasinghe, eds. (Washington: The World Bank, 1995), 127. 29

"Charles R Berry, The Reform in Oaxaca. 1856-1876: A Microhistorv of the Libe ral Revolution (Lincoln, NE: University of Nebraska Press, 1981), 177-178.

"Ibid, 186.

38 In their text, Meyer and Sherman refer to the ejido as "the communal landholding of the Indian village." 378.

39A. Irving Hallowell, "The Nature and Function of Property as a Social Institution," Journal of Legal and Political Sociology T:3-4 (1943), 133.

"Susan Hanna and Mohan Munasinghe, Property Rights in a Social and Ecological Context (Washington: The World Bank, 1995), 4.

41 Fikret Berkes, ed. , Common Property Resources: Ecology and Communitv-Based Sustainable Development (London:

Belhaven, 1989) , 25.

< 2 Ibid, 13.

,3 Piers Blaikie and Harold Brookfield, Land Degradation and Society (London: Methuen, 1987), 186.

"Ibid, 186-187.

"Murray Bookchin, "The Concept of Social Ecology," in Ecology, Carolyn Merchant, ed. (New Jersey: Humanities Press International, 1994), 154.

46Hanna and Munasinghe, 7.

'David W. Bromley, Environment and E conomy: Property Rights and Public Policy (Oxford: Blackwell, 1991), ill.

49 Ibid, 124.

"This is not to suggest that such traditional knowledge is always perfectly adapted and efficiently applied. Indigenous farmers can have major misperceptions about the way the natural world works that can sometimes lead to resource use problems. See Jeffery W. Bentley, "What Farmers Don't Know Can't Help Them: The Strengths and Weaknesses of Indigenous Technical Knowledge in Honduras," Agriculture and Human Values 6:3 (Summer 1989), 25-31.

51 For a general theoretical discussion of colonialism and land use issues see Blaikie and Brookfield, Ch. 6. 30

"Ralph L. Beals and Pedro Carrasco, Houses and House Use of the Sierra Tarasnans Smithsonian Institution, Institute of Social Anthropology, Publication No. 1. (Washington: U.S. Government Printing Office, 1951), 6. CHAPTER 2

EMPIRES AND ECOLOGY

Permanent agricultural villages began to form in the

Patzcuaro basin about five thousand years ago; no doubt nomadic hunter-gatherers settled in the region to take advantage of the lake resources. By the fourteenth century, there were numerous villages and a growing population living on the lakeshore or lower slopes. The vast majority, 90 percent or more, lived along the shore, on islands, or on adjacent, thickly-forested slopes, a pattern that changed little in subsequent centuries. 1

In the Protohistoric period, the lake was somewhat higher than today, with a surface area covering about ten square kilometers more than at present. Fish and waterfowl abounded, and the extensive marshes along the shoreline provided the reeds that continue to be gathered and woven in

the lakeshore villages. The tule f Cvperus thrysi f 1 nms ) grow in the shallows and, thus, were subject to major changes in extent as the lake's depth fluctuated over the centuries. Gorenstein and Pollard found that in the Proto- historic period marshland covered just under two thousand hectares, but harvesting and the declining lake surface area has reduced the reedy zones in the present day. Mixed pine

31 32 and oak forest covered a much larger area than today and could be found growing much closer to the lake, especially on the lower slopes. The highest concentration of forest was found between three and eight hundred meters above the lake surface with oaks predominating. Still-higher eleva- tions included small expanses of fir forest. 2

Before the consolidation of the Tarascan state in the fifteenth century, resource use was based on apparently autonomous villages with diverse cultures and histories. As one would expect, the lives of the people of the Patzcuaro basin were shaped in large measure by the lake and its lacustrine ecosystems. Fishing was a mainstay of the re- gion's subsistence economy, and the lake's abundant supply of fish led to the name that would be given to the entire contemporary state. The earliest Spanish arrivals adopted the word, Mechuacan, "place of fish," for the re- gion. 3 Lake resources also included great guantities of ducks and other waterfowl which were hunted by spear. In addition to the collection of reeds on the lake, edible and medicinal herbs and plants were gathered as was honey and other wild resources of the lake region. Wood was harvested from the lower slopes and the tree line began to move rap- idly upward, away from the lakeshore.

Within the basin agricultural usage accounted for about

45 percent of the land in the Protohistoric period. Maize had been cultivated at Patzcuaro since about 1500 B.C. and .

33

was the dominant crop along with the other Mesoamerican

standards, beans and squash. Other crops included amaranth,

chile, gourds, maguey, nopal cactus, tobacco, tomato, and

yucca 4

Ecological Change and Tarascan State Formation

While it appears that the lake region supported a human

population for many centuries, there is considerable evi-

dence of serious environmental degradation dating from the

introduction of maize culture some 3,500 years ago. Various

scholars have identified substantial erosion of prehispanic

origin that resulted from deforestation and burning on the

sensitive slopes adjacent to the lake. 5 Moreover, a rising

population and migration from outside the Patzcuaro basin

appear to have wrought ecological changes that transformed

the region's social and political basis beginning in about

A. D. 400. In a process that continued for the next millen-

nium, nucleated settlements emerged that relied increasingly

on markets for subsistence needs and that were characterized

by social differentiation with a growing elite class. It

was from the combination of these ecological and social

forces that the Tarascan state emerged. 6

Studies have suggested that ecological stresses in the

Early Postclassic were responsible, in part, for social

changes that took place in the two or three centuries before the arrival of the Spaniards. Erosion and climatic change not only impinged directly on the agricultural regime, but altered the very shape of Lake Patzcuaro. Sarah L. O'Hara argues that "the period 1380 to 1520 was characterized by rising lake levels associated with wetter climatic condi- tions." Currently 2,03 6 meters above sea level, the lake may have reached a level of 2,050 meters between A.D. 1000 and 13 00, rising from lower levels over previous centuries.

There is evidence also that erosion from the lower slopes brought colluvial material into the lake which formed or altered the wide, reedy flats that constitute an impor- tant lacustrine resource for resident populations. 3 Such alterations in the lake meant revolutionary change in the distribution and use of the basin's resources. These changes and the rising population density led to conflicts over the shifting resources as some groups gained access to resources while others lost ground. Further, as Helen

Perlstein Pollard notes, the period is marked by "increased economic specialization in lacustrine resources (especially fishing), and raiding/seizing irrigable lands." As the population strained the basin's resources, it became neces- sary to look beyond the Patzcuaro area for additional re- sources, especially food crops which were insufficient within the lake zone. Elites who were able to organize raiding parties and/or exploit local and regional market opportunities were able to rise to the top of the social hierarchy and formed the basis for the ruling dynasty at the center of the emergent Tarascan state.' .

As the above discussion suggests, until the Postclassic period property rights were only loosely defined. The widely-dispersed and distinct villages cultivated lands within and surrounding their communities. Whether such village lands constituted communal tenure is uncertain, but other resources, both forest and lacustrine, were probably open access. The Patzcuaro environment was able to support the region's population; Pollard notes that settlement patterns before the Tarascan state lack a defensive orienta- tion indicating little conflict over resources. 10 As re- source shifts occurred and the population rose, a more complex system of dealing with resource conflicts became necessary, and the Tarascan state provided the context for the new property rights regime.

In the first half of the fourteenth century a unified state was formed by a Tarascan elite that brought together various independent groups in the Patzcuaro basin. This new political and economic strength allowed this Tarascan elite to extend their power outside the basin, primarily to gain access to resources not available or insufficient within the lake region, which up until this time had been its primary resource zone. References in the Relacion de Michoacan show how such resources were drawn from other areas with distinct natural resource characteristics !i Markets emerged in which the Patzcuaro settlements exchanged their fish and feathers for maize, amaranth, beans, and chile. The basin residents also expanded their production of goods made from lake

resources such as tule reeds that were exchanged for the

needed imports. 12

While these markets and their own producive activities

seem to have been sufficient to support the commoners, the

growing non-food-producing elites found it necessary to

obtain goods by other means. Indications are that increas-

ing the productivity of agriculture within the basin was of

limited utility given the environmental conditions in the

basin at this time. Some additional labor may have been

available, but working classes seem to have been growing

more slowly relative to the nonproducing elites. Further,

there is nothing to indicate agricultural intensification in

the basin. Indeed, the fields of Tarascan farmers were

already cultivated in a fairly intensive regime; it is

unlikely that increased labor inputs would have made the

land produce more. Thus, state-controlled institutions,

including an intensified property rights regime, became the

primary means for meeting the needs of the Tarascan elites.

As resource scarcity and conflicts increased, greater effort was expended toward establishing rules and mechanisms gov-

erning resource use. State control of natural resources was applied through a system of tribute, direct state ownership of lands, and the granting of usufruct rights. The emer- gence of the Tarascan state and these institutions operated within the faltering ecosystem of the Lake Patzcuaro basin. ^

37

Unable to support its resident population, the basin's

ecology was maintained by the political structures estab-

lished in the imperial context. 13

Helen Perlstein Pollard has done the most to show the

ecological changes experienced in the Patzcuaro basin in the

years leading up to the arrival of Europeans. Her resource

analyses have shown that "the basin was clearly unable to

produce sufficient maize/ amaranth for its population."

Pollard states that the central core of the Tarascan state

"was not a viable economic unit. It existed, even thrived,

only by the exchange of goods and services in regional and

supraregional patterns.""1

Resources and Property Under the Tarascan State

The Tarascan empire began to consolidate its power

about A. D. 1440 and reached its maximum extent on the eve of

the Spanish conguest, encompassing some 75,000 sg. km., much

of the modern state of Michoacan. 15 The total population for

the entire region in the early sixteenth century was placed

at about 1.3 million by Borah and Cook. Pollard suggests a

population for the Patzcuaro basin at between 60,750 and

105,000 with some 36 percent living in or near the imperial

capital, the lakeshore city of Tzintzuntzan. 16 The capital

and its market not only served the largest proportion of the

lake basin's population, but included the largest number of elite; Pollard estimates the total population of the city in the Protohistoric at between 25,000 and 35,000 people. 38

Various administrative centers, organized in as many as five

levels, reported to the imperial capital and its administra-

tive and judicial officialdom. 18 The government directed

exploitive activities and tribute collection in the villages

through state officials placed there by the ruling dynasty.

Tribute flowed into the capital from the dependent Tarascan

villages within the central core as well as from the subject

communities in a much larger region.

Most of the residents of the central core continued to

live along the lakeshore or on the surrounding lower slopes.

Studies have shown that the lake zone was highly urbanized

with residents clustered in villages differentiated along

economic and ecological lines; isolated homesites apparently

did not exist in the lake region. 19 Gorenstein and Pollard

have identified ninety-one settlements varying in size from

"hamlets" of less than ten hectares and eighty residents to

the capital at 674 hectares and as many as thirty-five

thousand residents. 20 A typical settlement might consist of

about thirty-eight houses and 190 inhabitants close to a permanent source of potable water or, for larger centers,

21 clustered around a temple mound known as a yacata .

Villages of the basin typically were tied to environ- mental features such as water, forest, marshes, and arable land. The capital served as a major market along with

Pareo, another lakeshore community, and Asajo, located in a mountain valley northwest of the lake. Markets were no 39

doubt sited in relation to transportation routes, the lake

itself being the primary one. While there is evidence of a

cobblestone road linking Tzintzuntzan with Ihuatzio and

Patzcuaro, Pollard notes a lack of transportation networks

within the basin other than the lake. 22

Of the ninety-one settlements identified by Gorenstein

and Pollard, some 78 percent were associated with charanda

soils of the lakeshore and lower slopes whose fertility make

them adequate for agriculture, but whose deficiency in

nitrogen rate them as somewhat poor. Its characteristics

require planting only after the rainy season has begun, and

fields must be fallowed, from two to four years between

plantings. Its erosion potential is very high, as noted in

Chapter One. Better soils are available in the zone but of

limited extent, being confined largely to small lakeshore

areas totalling only a few hundred hectares. Other villages

were located on islands and on upper sierra slopes, the

former benefiting from fertile lacustrine soils while the

latter suffered some of the poorest soils in the region. 23

Generally speaking, villages close to the lake had access to

lacustrine resources and better soils that the higher alti-

tude communities lacked. On the other hand, by this period

forest resources on the lower slopes had already experienced a degree a degradation while upper sierra villages continued to enjoy relatively rich wooded lands. The particular environmental characteristics of a village's location set 40

the parameters for the forms of resource use applied there.

While the exigencies of the state determined in large mea-

sure the patterns and rules for village economy, the natural

world itself provided the limits. While the political

economy of the region changed over the centuries, environ-

mental factors at the village level would always provide the

context for resource use.

In prehispanic times (and up to the present) the

Patzcuaro basin's ecology was shaped primarily by agricul-

ture. Farmers worked small fields ( ecuaro ) on hillslopes

near their homes, and gave considerable individual attention

to plants. In the fields Tarascans intercropped maize,

beans, and squash, with perhaps a small patch of amaranth

along the edges. Most other crops were grown in still-

smaller kitchen gardens adjacent to homes. Digging sticks

and hoes were effective on the cleared slopes, but could not

break the some of the sod-covered flat areas. Shifting

agriculture was practiced on the steeper slopes, but perma-

nent fields characterized the lower areas near Lake

Patzcuaro. Some of these fields were terraced with retain-

ing walls built of sod along their lower edges. It is clear that under the Tarascan state more extensive field agricul- ture was practiced in order to produce food for the royal household and nobility, although without plows the size of these fields was limited. Unlike the small, hillslope ecuaro, the state fields were sometimes irrigated. 24 41

Although agricultural villages emerged long before

Tarascan state times, some were established by the imperial

government for administrative, religious, and exploitive

purposes. The Relacion de Michoacan suggests that the city

of Patzcuaro itself was established for the siting of a

temple to the Tarascan god, Curicaueri . " Other villages

were administrative centers with few residents, but having

jurisdiction over a large number of dependent settlements.

Ulises Beltran has determined that during the Protohistoric

period most of the dependencies were located between two and

five leagues from the local administrative center, a finding

that will be discussed in the section on the colonial period

below. 26 Beltran and Donald D. Brand also suggest that

villages were settled to exploit certain resources more

efficiently. 27 Markets, for example, were sited to take

advantage of water transportation routes while other vil-

lages occupied upper slopes near forest resources despite

having relatively poor agricultural soils.

In the course of its history the Tarascan elite was

able to consolidate its power in the Patzcuaro basin as well as extend its dominance throughout the much larger area through a system of centralized authority and a hegemonic culture. To avoid ethnic conflicts with the nontarascan communities outside the Patzcuaro area (which might threaten resource exploitation) the state exported Tarascan culture and promoted ethnic assimilation in a territory well beyond the basin. An "elite culture," state religion, and defense

formed the basis of the state's cultural strategy. 28 Over

time the diverse ethnic groups outside the basin assimilated

the culture of the central core and adopted Tarascan lan-

guage, religion, and folkways. At the heart of this impe-

rial system were the direct and indirect methods by which

natural resource use was controlled by the state.

Tribute collection was the main political function of

the state, a highly-organized network that moved vast quan-

tities of goods throughout the empire. The products of the

state's forests, fields, and lakes ultimately ended up in

the capital ' s storehouses to be consumed by the royal dy- nasty, government officials, religious functionaries, the military, and to be kept as emergency stores for the local population. According to Pollard the most common tribute

items being sent to Tzintzuntzan were maize, cotton cloth, and clothing. Tribute also included tropical fruit, cacao, raw cotton, gourds, animal skins, bird feathers, gold, silver, copper, and other natural and manufactured items.- 9

The Relacion shows how items of tribute and gifts were brought to temples for offerings to the gods, then consumed at least in part by the nobility and royalty. The state religion thus provided for the subsistence needs of the elites. The tribute system not only ensured the survival and continued dominance of the elite class, but linked ecological zones in a network that served as the primary 43 mechanism for the exploitation of resources outside the central core of the state.

The state also controlled resource use through direct

ownership of lands. The Relacion rie Michoacan discusses the

Tarascan king, and how they were fields of the cazonci f the

used to support the royal household and state officials. 30

Pollard writes that these lands were among the most produc-

tive in the basin; they included large areas of irrigable

fields while much of the basin's land is sloping. 31 The

Relacion makes clear that the state fields were an important

element of government activity. These lands were worked "in

common" by peasants drafted for labor services, but were not

communal lands designated for the use of a specified group.

Agricultural managers oversaw the individual fields in which

grew maize, beans, maguey, sguash, chile, amaranth, and

fruits while other officials were in overall charge of the

agricultural operations. 32

Lake and forest resources in the basin were also sub-

ject to state control. The Relacion refers to forest manag-

ers, hunters, and fishers who were responsible for bringing

in natural resources for use, primarily, in the capital.

The collection of firewood is mentioned repeatedly in the

document; it was not only for domestic use but consumed in

great guantities in Tarascan religious structures. Woodcut-

ters were used to cut lumber for construction and implement-

making. That heavily wooded areas apparently existed close 44 to the lake into the Protohistoric period, but have all but disappeared in modern times may be related to the large- scale consumption of wood under the Tarascan empire or later. The Relacion describes net and hook fishers who worked the lake as well as duck hunters who provided meat and feathers to the royal household. In similar fashion, individuals were designated to hunt deer and rabbits, to

collect honey and feathers, and to quarry stone. 33 Copper mines may have been owned by the state as well. Individuals

engaged in these activities may have been village residents

providing tribute service to the state through mechanisms of

public works. Beltran notes that individuals providing such

tribute labor only did so on property assigned directly to

the king, including forests, lake, and royal fields. The Relacion describes officials who directed such operations,

and the numbers and complexity of the managerial hierarchy suggests considerable state intervention in Tarascan re-

source use. 34

Scholars studying Tarascan land tenure have been unable

to describe, with any degree of certainty, the rights and

rules associated with property in the prehispanic period.

It has been suggested that all of the region's resources

were seen as the property of the cazonci . the Tarascan king,

as the earthly representative of the gods. Pollard writes

that the "royal lineage, and to a lesser extent the nobility

as a whole, were believed to have obtained 'power' or 45

'force' from their personal relationship to the universal

" 35 power of the god Curicaueri .

On the surface then it would seem that the property

rights regime was imposed by the royal dynasty with the

rules and rights pertaining to resource use governed by the

state. There are a number of references in the Relacion and

other sources that suggest land could be owned and trans-

ferred in certain situations. At one point in the Relacion ,

the story is told of a reguest to buy or borrow a piece of

land, which suggests some form of private property that

could be transferred. 36 In its discussion of marriage prac-

tices, the Relacion states that the father of the bride-to-

be asks her if her suitor has " hacienda " and will work

fields to support her. 37 But Beltran could find "no evidence

of any kind of circulation of land, neither among the nobil-

ity nor outside that realm, and any information about inher-

itance rights is also lacking for Michoacan." 38 Lands may have been rented from the nobility through sharecropping contracts, since labor obtained by tribute was only avail- able to the royalty. 39 Further, in Alonzo de Zorita's Brief and Summary Relation of th e Lords of , the author states that in Michoacan both elites and commoners owned land themselves in addition to working common land. 10

Carrasco, however, guest ions whether actual ownership was implied by Zorita or whether only usufruct was noted." 1 The suggestions of private ownership may have had more to do 46

with European chroniclers attempting to fit native American

forms of property rights into foreign conceptions and termi-

nology. The evidence suggests that usufruct rights were far

more typical in the Tarascan world than outright ownership

in a European sense.

Beltran argues that lands seem to have had a "corporate

character", that is, property of a lineage rather an indi-

vidual, and subject to certain limitations and political

factors. 42 Beltran suggests further that in the Tarascan

region peasants were not grouped in clan-type structures, as

in the Valley of Mexico where calpullali were divided into

individual plots for the exclusive use of the group's mem- bership. In his study of the Codice Plancarte , Beltran

argues that lands were assigned to "families" by the state,

and judges appointed to ensure that these families worked

only those lands to which they were assigned. Gibson notes that in the Aztec region assignment of land was made by

calpulli officers who retained control of the lands under their authority and on behalf of the communities. 0 The

Relacion suggests, however, that in the Tarascan zone state officials were appointed for such assignments and to mediate disputes. It is probably safe to assume that these offi- cials worked on behalf of the government rather than for the villages. Forest and lacustrine resources were subject to usufruct rights granted by the state. As noted above, hunting, fishing, lumbering, and mining are mentioned in the 47

Relacion and the exploitation of these resources was managed

by state officials. We are told that unlawful use of re-

sources would subject the guilty party to the death penalty.

Nevertheless, despite the Tarascan state's well-organized

central administration, it seems likely that much unoccupied

land was used freely by peasants with little regard to state

rules and authority. 44

It should be acknowledged that in the foregoing discus-

sion the property rights concepts sound much like those of

Europe at the time. Our understanding of prehispanic tenure

systems is based on the accounts of sixteenth-century Span- ish chroniclers who almost certainly did not understood

indigenous lifeways or the local ecological processes of which they were a part. Surely, the relationship between the Tarascans and the natural environment was culturally unique, born of local responses and conditions quite unlike those known to the arriving Europeans. For example, the

Relacion de Michoacan , the Breve sumaria relacion y , the Relaciones Geoaraf icas r and other accounts, as well as those of twentieth-century scholars, often attempt to place land under a concept of ownership—a notion that may have been alien to indigenous societies. As William Cronon suggested in his 1983 work on New England, the real issue is not the

European notion of ownership, but "the way the inhabitants of a particular village conceived of property vis-a-vis each other" and the way "everyone in a village conceived of their 48

territory (and political community) vis-a-vis other vil-

lages." 45

For the Tarascan case, the chroniclers tell us that

lands were "granted" by the king to the Tarascan elites, and

that peasants labored on lands of the state or nobility.

All classes also seemed to have possessed usufruct rights of

other lands and resources. At the same time, we know that a

significant portion of the lands were used to produce the

required tribute. So the Tarascan state recognized certain

rights of exclusive use , but whether such rights went beyond

activities associated with the designated land, such as

agriculture or extraction, is not indicated in the sources.

Further, rights in property almost always were associated

with production for state purposes, and do not appear linked

with the acquisition of wealth or profit.

Scholars continue to take for granted that lands in

prehispanic times were "communally-owned," that people of a

particular community "owned" a particular piece of property

to the exclusion of all other communities. But it is the

sum of the rights, duties, and sanctions, which binds a group to the object and excludes others, that determines the

nature of property claims. We cannot say for sure that villages recognized the exclusivity of their rights to nearby land vis-a-vis other villages, and that sanctions were in place to prevent encroachment of one village's land on that of another. Given the dispersed nature of Tarascan 49 settlement in the Protohistoric such a regime probably would not have been generally necessary.

Clearly the state intervened in resource use, directly through ownership or management of resources or indirectly through the tribute system. Decisions about access to and use of natural resources were in large measure determined by imperial structures, rather than by those with the most intimate contact with the environment. Thus, for many decades before the arrival of the Spanish and their colonial rule, the relationship between the Tarascan people and their natural world was mediated by rules and conventions somewhat removed the local village context of a particular ecosystem.

Under the Tarascan state the customs and practices regarding the environment, including property systems that link peo- ples with the natural world, expressed to a lesser degree than before the local ecological knowledge about the struc- ture and function of the environment. This realm would shift dramatically yet again beginning in the 1520s when the

European arrival wrought further dramatic change in the ecology of the Lake Patzcuaro basin.

Spain and the Ecology of the Patzcuaro Basin

At the beginning of the sixteenth century when Europe- ans began to arrive in Michoacan, Lake Patzcuaro was at its maximum height, but drier conditions would begin a long process of alteration in the lake area's make-up of arable land, tule-reed marsh, and open water. Maps drawn in the 50

sixteenth century show a larger area of open water than is

evident today. Several islands indicated on the maps are

now surrounded by dry land and areas that were once fishing

zones are now farms. Formerly-lakeshore communities are

presently some distance from open water, and tule-reed marsh

became a resource for villages that previously had access to

none. Geographical research by Sarah L. O'Hara details the

course of these changes and shows that they continued

through the colonial period and up to the present. 46

Soil erosion on the fragile lower slopes around the

lake continued, and has been described as catastrophic. The

literature on land degradation in the Americas during this

period has tended to attribute the erosion to the introduc-

tion by Europeans of plows and livestock. 47 It seems clear

that these introductions had some negative impact on the

Michoacan environment, but research by Sarah L. O'Hara, et

al. was unable "to distinguish any specific impact of the

introduction of plough agriculture and draught animals by

the Spanish after A.D. 1521. ... if anything there was a

decrease in the erosion rate after the Conquest." 48 While

these scholars and others acknowledge that land degradation

is attributable to new Spanish forms, they argue that it

"was apparently no more severe than that associated with traditional agricultural methods." 49 It should be pointed out, however, that the declining population and reduced resource exploitation on the sensitive lower slopes may have 51

allowed a degree of forest regeneration that mediated, at

least for a time, the rate of erosion. Sherburne F. Cook

states that in the valley east of Quiroga, where population

declines in the sixteenth century were especially acute, the

"erosion had been interrupted," while in areas close to

Tzintzuntzan, where population remained relatively dense,

erosion persisted. Regardless, it seems safe to conclude,

as Cook did in 1949, that significant examples of erosion

can be found in the basin that date from the first settle-

ment of the region up to the twentieth century. 50

As happened elsewhere in the Americas, the vanguard of

the Spanish forces that arrived in the early sixteenth

century was disease. There is evidence that Tarascan mes-

sengers returning from an embassy with the Aztecs brought

smallpox into Michoacan a year or two before Cortes' men

themselves arrived in 1521. 51 Perhaps more than anything else, the European microbes prepared the way for new forms of natural resource use in the Patzcuaro basin. As noted above, the population of the basin just before the arrival of the Spanish was probably more than 80,000. Within fifty years it had dropped by as much as half, and by the mid- seventeenth century there were fewer than 10,000 people living in the basin. 52

Upon subjugating the Tarascan leadership, the Spanish rulers set about putting in place systems for the exploita- tion of the region's resources, as the native elites had 52

done previously. The Tarascan tribute system came to an end

and Spain's encomienda had a brief tenure during the first

years of colonial rule. Various pueblos were assigned to

Spaniards with Cortes himself taking the rich and populous

Tzintzuntzan and its tributary communities that constituted

the central core of the Tarascan empire. The products

obtained by the encomenderos was, for the most part, the

same as that given in the prehispanic tribute. For

Tzintzuntzan and its subject towns around the lake an as-

sessment of its tribute for 1528 included six hundred cargas

of maize, forty-five cargas of beans, twenty-five cargas of

chili, and twenty cargas of fish to be delivered to the mines every thirty days." As under the Tarascan state,

fields were designated to produce crops specifically to pay the tribute. The Spaniards typically had the goods deliv- ered to the mining areas where it was sold to the miners for precious metals. But, as Donald D. Brand notes, "the encom- ienda system was never very well established in the

Patzcuaro region." 54 Cortes retained his encomienda only until about 1529, and most pueblos subsequently directed tribute to the Spanish crown. No pueblos in the basin legally were held in encomienda after 1554. Still, Span- iards did use lands within their encomiendas for planting of crops and raising livestock. J. Benedict Warren points out that Spanish law eventually forbade the use of tribute labor on these fields, but before it faded away the encomienda 53

system provided a way for Spaniards to begin establishing

themselves, and European forms of resource use, on the land

in the basin, often at the expense of the declining Tarascan

villages. 55 As noted above, during Tarascan state times

villages were small and widely dispersed, often located some

distance from their regional administrative centers. But in

the early colonial period, many pueblos became deserted, or

nearly so, and the Spanish administrators ordered their

formal dissolution. Many subject villages of Patzcuaro,

Tzintzuntzan, Erongaricuaro, and others centers were aban-

doned and their remnant populations forced to move to

congregaciones . Not surprisingly, such changes followed

closely the major epidemics of the colonial period.

Patzcuaro, for example, had fifty or sixty barrios before

the epidemic of 1545-1548, but in 1581 only fifteen re-

mained. 56 Robert West suggests that "probably few present

Tarascan pueblos possess their pre-Spanish sites." He notes

that many villages likely moved from higher elevations to

lower areas near land appropriate for plow cultivation. 57

Conoreaacion was justified by the administrative needs of

the colonial rulers and to aid in religious conversion of

the natives. During the 1530s a unigue form of congregacion was established by Vasco de Quiroga in the lakeshore vicin-

ity of the old Tarascan community of Guayameo. With a

Utopian, communal vision, Quiroga brought together groups of

Indians to farm collectively-held village land, produce 54

handicrafts, practice Catholicism, and care for the poor and

infirm. The "pueblo-hospital" of Santa Fe de la Laguna

reflected European ideas about land ownership, agriculture,

and religion that were making their mark on the Americas.

As the numbers of villages declined, the population

densities in the main cities grew; some 14,000 Indians moved

from outlying settlements to Patzcuaro in the early years of

Spanish rule. Similarly, the former governmental centers of

the Tarascans became cabaceras under Spanish administration.

Larger settlements and those relatively isolated also sur-

vived the onslaughts of disease, congregacion , and land

usurpation by encomenderos.

Along with encomienda and congregacion, plows, European

crops, and livestock made their marks, quite literally, on

Patzcuaro' s already-eroded soils. On the steeper slopes,

the Tarascans continued to practice shifting agriculture

using the traditional digging stick. But at lower levels

where fields were flat or more-gently sloping, the plow made

significant inroads. Plows were especially effective in

flat areas of thick sod on which the aboriginal digging

stick was ineffective. Donald Brand suggests that the

introduction of these oxen-drawn plows made possible "the

first widescale breaking" of these grass-covered areas. 58

According to West, the plow introduced in the Tarascan zones had a straight iron share that "stirs, rather than turns,

soil to a depth of less than six inches." Plow agriculture 55

began in the first years after the arrival of the Spanish,

proceeding from the flat, valley floors to the more fragile

and dif f icult-to-cultivate hills. West writes that by the

early seventeenth century, the arado was being used to

cultivate lower slopes. 59 Plows also allowed an increase in

the scale of farming as cultivated areas became much larger

than the small, more-intensive fields and gardens of tradi-

tional Tarascan agriculture. Although there is some debate

about progress of hill-slope erosion in the basin, as dis-

cussed above, the introduction of the plow clearly played a

significant role in erosive processes. As plow cultivation

expanded to progressively steeper areas it is likely that barranca formation accelerated. The furrows dug on the hillside fields ran both with and across the slope, "at the whim of the cultivator," according to Donald Brand. 60 Such practices no doubt damaged the already-thin soils of the lower slopes.

In the colonial period maize remained the primary crop planted in the Patzcuaro basin, and moved down from the swidden fields to the flat areas along with the expansion of plow agriculture. During the course of the colonial rule, native and Spanish farmers increasingly sowed European crops in the area's fields during the course of the colonial period. According to Brand, some of the introductions were made by the early Spanish arrivals and encomenderos , but most were made by the members of the religious orders. 61 In Patzcuaro, the Relaciones Geograficas note, many fruits were

brought from Spain as well as wheat, onions, and other

crops. 62 Brand also notes various vegetables, flavoring

herbs, and ornamentals." In the 1580s, Fray Alonso Ponce

traveled throughout the Lake Patzcuaro basin, visiting many

of the lakeshore pueblos. His report shows how widespread

the growing of European crops had become. 6 '

Wheat appeared in the basin as early as the 153 0s. By

1586 a wheat mill was located near the lake and was said to have ground all the wheat from lakeshore villages including

Tzintzuntzan, Erongaricuaro, San Jeronimo, and present-day

Quiroga." The basin was seen as an excellent location for the grain, and during the colonial period Michoacan was considered to be one of the most productive wheat-growing regions in the country. 66 It is likely that Indians grew wheat only to meet tribute demands; West writes that wheat bread was eaten by the natives only in times of maize short- age. Wheat was, therefore, primarily a "cash" crop, grown not for subsistence but for meeting other obligations or for profit. Growing wheat in the basin represented a consider- able departure from the other large-scale crop, maize.

Plows and broadcast sowing were essential to productive wheat fields, and irrigation was practiced from the very beginning of wheat cultivation. 67 Maize also was grown on irrigated fields, even in prehispanic times, but rain-fed maize fields were common in the colonial period and up to 57

the present. By most accounts, compared to maize, wheat is

more difficult to produce, less well adapted to basin condi-

tions, produces lower yields, and is not favored for con-

sumption by the natives, but in the lake area more acreage

was devoted to the European introduction than to native maize. Clearly, the colonial regime exerted considerable

pressure to bring about the shift to wheat cultivation. 63

Although the early Tarascans had semidomesticated

turkeys and dogs, livestock raising began only with the

introduction of European animals in the 1520s. By 1530 horses, cattle, sheep, pigs, and chickens were found in the basin. Pigs were the first introduction, being raised to supply the gold placer mining of the Balsas river area.

Chickens were quickly adopted for local use by the natives since turkeys and ducks were already found in many farm- yards, and Spanish laws required chickens be produced for tribute. Horses, of course, arrived with the first conquistadores and along with donkeys and mules became common beasts of burden; burros, Brand notes, "soon became the work companion of the Indian." 69 As has been well docu- mented, sheep and cattle had an enormous impact on the ecology of New Spain. By the time the Franciscan inspector,

Alonso Ponce, visited Michoacan in the 1580s there appeared to be vast numbers of the grazing animals pastured in the region. 70 In an area of about 17,325 square kilometers that included the Patzcuaro basin, Lesley Byrd Simpson estimates 58

that the cattle population might have reached 64,500 and the

sheep population 333,000 by 1620. 71 Within the basin itself,

however, livestock raising in the colonial period seems to

have had a much lesser impact than in other parts of New

Spain. According to Donald Brand, haciendas devoted solely

to stockraising never appeared in the Patzcuaro region. 72

It is obvious that the region did not experience the wide-

spread degradation that has been documented for the Valley

of Mexico attributable to sheep and cattle. The introduc- tion of these animals did, however, bring about changes in the forms of resource use practiced in the lake zone. As noted above, oxen made possible the cultivation of previously-untillable soils, and some Indians kept small

flocks of sheep or found work tending animals for the Span- iards.

The Col onial Property Regime

Central to the new relationship between the Patzcuaro basin's human population and the environment was the ap- proach to property established by the Spaniards. The prop- erty system that came to characterize Mexico reflected the forms that had existed in Spain. 73 Communal holdings, "com- mons," and individual private ownership were well-developed elements of peninsular life and all became part of the colonial property regime. In principle, Spanish policy recognized Indian land claims and sought to protect native community "ownership." The crown was prepared to grant to 59

Indian villages the land they occupied and used for agricul-

tural purposes. At the same time, Spanish authorities

sought to endow the viceroyalty with a general system of

"common" lands, primarily for grazing. Perhaps most novel

in its American setting was the extension of private prop-

erty, which appears to have been far more vague under the

Tarascan state, if it existed at all.

For their part, the communities guickly came to under-

stand the Spanish system and sought legal title or other

formal authorization to use the lands that they had relied

on for centuries. Such official title to Indian towns was

granted by Spanish authorities from the first years of

colonial rule. According to George Foster, communal rights

had long been recognized in the Spanish peninsula where

"Spanish villages have held communal title to a part or all

of the surrounding land." There, the propios de los pueblos were community lands worked in common or rented out; others were adjudicated for personal use with a lifetime tenure, or distributed for one or several years based on a lottery. 14

In New Spain, a village's fundo legal a system r estab- lished in 1567, determined the core area to which the resi- dents were legally entitled. In addition to the village proper, the Spanish crown recognized community rights to certain lands beyond the core of the settlement for agricul- ture. Although these lands were not legally titled to individuals, plots were alloted to heads of households and 60

often became closely tied to that lineage. The village also retained specified woodlands and pastures that were

communally-owned but not apportioned to individuals, which came to be known as the ei ido f based on a similar institu-

tion in Spain. Rights to the lake were often tied to spe-

cific communities, which is not surprising given the impor-

tance of lacustrine resources in the Patzcuaro basin. For

example, the Indian settlers of the lakeside communities of

Tzurumutaro and Pareo claimed community rights to the lake

and littoral zone based on their original royal grant, for

which the village had agreed to contribute to the salaries

of civic officials. 73 The formal authorization for each of

these tenurial forms constituted the basis for a village's

communal holdings, property that was reserved for the exclu- sive use of the corporate community.

As noted above, in prehispanic times Tarascan communi-

ties certainly had some notion of the ties between them-

selves and the land their village used. But it was the

Spanish who formalized this relationship as one of ownership

between a corporate entity and its land. Legal, socially-

recognized title was granted in which the village owned the

land against intrusion by other villages or usurpation by

individuals. To be sure, it was a highly imperfect system that often became bound up in long-term bureaucratic and

legal red tape. For example, the process of establishing the basin community Cocupao's legal boundaries began in the 61 early-sixteenth century and remained uncompleted into the twentieth. 76

There were other lands in the region not designated for specific communities, primarily pasture land, but woods and watercourses as well, that were available for usufruct.

Francois Chevalier suggests that this element of property rights was a medieval idea derived from "ancient Castilian custom," and provided access to resources in areas not being cultivated. 11 In Spain, these "public lands" allowed the collection of fruit, nuts, firewood, thatch, and lumber without acquiring title to the land. 78 In Mexico, there were

similar lands, known as baldios or realengos , intended primarily to ensure an ample supply of grazing land for the expanding numbers of sheep and cattle. At Patzcuaro, a long tradition of forest use made continued access to wooded land critical for the native villages. In the basin, montes were found within the limits of specific communities, and were therefore communal property. But there remained consider- able undesignated land that was probably closer to the open access types of both the Tarascan and Spanish regimes.

Since occupying land without legal title was a frequent occurrence, the difference between communal land (the fundo

legal plus the ej ido ) and the baldios was important. The former could not legally be alienated from the community, while the latter belonged directly to the Crown and could be disposed of by royal grant. In the Tarascan system, land was held only for a par-

ticular use, such use often determined by higher authori- ties. For the Spanish, however, land itself could be owned,

regardless of the use to which it was put. Indeed, the owner might not use the land at all. As Charles Gibson points out, ownership in Spain had provided both profit potential and social status for those endowed with property.

But in New Spain, the dense Indian population already occu- pied most of the land. As the native decline proceeded in the sixteenth century, quantities of land became available for acquisition by the European arrivals. 79 Land grants were made from the beginning of the colonial period and acceler- ated in later years. Lands were also obtained by outright purchase and through the legal devices of denuncia and composicion.

Private ownership did not apply only to Spaniards, as some Indians came to be propertied as well. Indians re- ceived royal grants for stockraising and agriculture, some becoming large landowners. At the same time, perhaps as part of the same process, members of the Indian elite had their possession of lands recognized by the Spanish authori- ties. 80 As noted, under the Tarascan state, lands of the nobility did not constitute ownership in a European sense.

But with colonial rule, Indians were able to transfer lands outright, and many did so in the early Spanish years.

Donald Brand cites cases of members of the former Tarascan nobility "selling or making grants of lands" comprising

considerable territory north and west of Lake Patzcuaro. 31

In his study of the Indians of the Valley of Mexico,

Gibson suggests that the "greater part of the land passed

from Indian possession and control altogether." 82 But, in

Michoacan native communities seem to have retained rela-

tively greater amounts of land, compared to other parts of

New Spain. Paul Friedrich suggests that the Spanish "lead-

ers and administrators in the Tarascan area appear to have

respected the "Laws of the Indies," under which Mexico's

indigenous populations were ostensibly protected from whole-

sale exploitation."" Within the basin, the old political

core of the Tarascan empire, many villages kept their commu-

nity lands through the colonial period. Studies by Donald

Brand and George Foster suggest that in the municipio

Quiroga and in the former Tarascan capital Tzintzuntzan,

communal holdings remained substantially intact until the

nineteenth century, and Brand notes how Santa Fe de la

Laguna retained a "respectable acreage" as recently as

94 1922 . Further, many of the land disputes that are recorded

for the basin were between native villages rather than between Indians and Spaniards, suggesting that the lands in guestion merely moved from one Indian community to another.

Nevertheless, it is apparent that some villages lost at

least part of their lands during the course of the colonial period. Claude Morin found that by the beginning of the . ;

64 nineteenth century some fourteen pueblos in the Patzcuaro district lacked their full fundo legal. 85

By the end of the colonial period the property regime was a complex amalgam of Spanish and indigenous elements.

The terminology and most of the land tenure institutions were of European origin, but many of the rights to resources were rooted in the prehispanic past. As will be shown in the next chapter, the modes of resource use also reflected the combination of cultures.

It seems clear, then, that the "communal" tenure of the native villages was not solely of native American origin as some scholars have suggested. 86 In particular, the ejido had a closer connection to European tenure forms than American.

Although the basin natives continued to understand their ties to their environment as they had "from time immemo- rial," the rights and structures that governed resource use unfolded over the centuries. The changes in property rights that would come in the nineteenth century should be seen more accurately as part of a long process of evolution, rather than as an attack on a distant, indigenous past.

Notes

'The reconstuction of the Protohistoric basin environ- ment is based largely on Handbook of Middle American Indians Vol. 1, (Austin: University of Texas Press, 1964), 111;

Helen Perlstein Pollard, Tariacuri ' s Legacy: The Prehispanic Tarascan State (Norman: University of Oklahoma Press, 1993) Robert West, The Cultural Geography of the Modern Tarascan Area Smithsonian Institution, Institute of Social Anthropol- ogy, Number 7 (Washington: U.S. Government Printing Office, 1951) 65

2 F.A. Street-Perrott, et al., "Anthropogenic Soil Erosion Around Lake Patzcuaro, Michoacan, Mexico During the Preclassic and Late Postclassic-Hispanic Periods," American Ant i qu i ty , 54:4 (1989), 761; the Relacion de Hichoanan suggests the presence of heavy forests surrounding the lake, see EM (1956), 27; the Relacion is a sixteenth-century manuscript compiled by a Spanish chronicler based on Tarascan stories. The version published in Madrid is used in this study. For a dicussion of the various editions and translations of the Relacion and issues surrounding its use as a source, see J. Benedict Warren, The Conquest of

Michoacan . 328.

3 Relaciones Geoaraficas de la Diocesis de Michoacan . Vol. II, (Guadalajara: Coleccibn "Siglo XVI", 1958), 109. 'Pollard, Tariacur i's Legacy , 141, 54.

5 Sherburne F. Cook, Soil Erosion and Population in Central Mexico (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1949), 36-44; Street-Perrott, "Anthropogenic Soil Erosion"; Sarah L. O'Hara, et al., "Accelerated soil erosion around a Mexican highland lake caused by prehispanic agriculture," Nature 362, (4 March 1993), 48-51.

6 Pollard, Tariacur i's Legacy , 182.

7 Sarah L. O'Hara, "Historical evidence of fluctuations in the level of Lake Patzcuaro, Michoacan, Mexico over the last 600 years," The Geographical Journal 159:1 (March 1993), 51; Pollard sets the lakeshore for this period at between 2,050 meters above sea level, see Tariacuri's Leg- acy, 66.

a F.A. Street-Perrott, "Anthropogenic Soil Erosion," 759; Sarah L. O'Hara, "Accelerated soil erosion," 48. 'Pollard, Tariacur i's Legacy , 182.

10 Pollard, Tariacur i's Legacy , 7.

ll See EM, 32-33.

12 Pollard, Tariacur i's Legacy , 120.

13 The Michoacan scenario is consistent with the litera- ture property rights theory cited in Chapter One; see Carlson in Anderson Property Rights , 68.

H Pollard, Tariacur i's Legacy , 112. 66

15 For a brief summary of the Tarascan empire and Tzintzuntzan's role see George M. Foster, Tzintzuntzan: Mexican Peasants in a Ch anging World (New York: Elsevier, 1979), 21-26.

16Woodrow Borah and Sherburne F.Cook. The Aboriginal Population of Central Mexico on the Eve of the Spanish Conquest Ibero-Americana: 45 (Berkeley: University of Cali- fornia Press, 1963), 87; Pollard, Tariacuri's Legacy , 79.

17 Pollard, Tarlacuri's Legacy , 32.

18 Pollard, Tariacuri's Legacy, 82.

19 Little is known about settlement patterns before the Tarascan state period. Some scholars have suggested clan- based villages similar to the Valley of Mexico's calpulli , but such suggestions are highly conjectural and based on ecological similarities between the Tarascan zone and that of the Aztecs. See for example, Pedro Carrasco, Tarascan Folk Religion: An Analysis of Ec onomic. Social, and Reli- gious Interactions (New Orleans: Middle American Research Institute, Tulane University, 1952), 12. These suggestions seem reasonable, but for the purposes of this study the findings of Pollard, Tariacuri's Legacy , Gorenstein and Pollard (1983), West (1973), and Brand (1951) for the Proto- historic period are of primary importance.

20 Shirley Gorenstein and Helen Perlstein Pollard, The Tarascan Civilization: A Late Prehi spanic Cultural System Vanderbilt University Publications in Anthropology 28 (Nash- ville, 1983).

21 Donald D. Brand. Ouirooa: A Mexican Municipio Smithso- nian Institution, Institute of Social Anthropology, Number 11 (Washington, 1951) 11; A permanent source of potable water was located close to nearly all of the identified settlements in the Protohistoric period. Water was trans- ported from the springs to the village in jars and some villages might also have constructed wooden aqueducts, a practice still being used in the twentieth century; See also Maurice Boyd, Eight Ta rascan Legends Contributions of the Florida State Museum, Number 3, (Gainesville, FL: University of Florida), 17; West (1951), 26.

"Pollard, Tariacur i's Legacy 54-55. ,

23 For full discussion of soils see Pollard, Tariacuri 's

Legacy , 67-77; Brand, Ouiroga , 122-131; West, 9-11. 67

24 These comments on prehispanic agriculture are based primarily on West, Brand Ouiroga Pollard Tariacuri's r Leg-

SCY, and Florescano, Historia General de Michoacan .

"EM, 34-35.

26Ulises Beltran, "Tarascan State and Society in Pre- hispanic Times: An Ethnohistorical Inguiry" (Ph.D. diss.,

University of Chicago, 1982) , 131.

"Beltran (1982) , 136.

28 Pollard, Tariacuri's Legacy , 129-131; see also Ulises Beltran, "Estado y Sociedad Tarascos," in Pedro Carrasco, et al. La Sociedad Indiaena en el Centro y Occidente de Mexico (Zamora: Colegio de Michoacan, 1986), 53; Carrasco notes how tribute served the same function for the Aztecs.

"Pollard, Tariacur i's Legacy , 116-118.

30 BM, 12.

"Pollard, Tariacur i's Legacy , 118.

32 EM, 184.

33EM, 175-180; the Spanish chronicler who recorded the Relacion used the verb guardar to describe those who were in charge of the forest. It is unclear if they were protecting the forest against unlawful access or were responsible for managing forest use. The document " refers to pucuriguari , diputado sobre todos los que quardaban los montes, que tenian cargo de cortar vigas y hacer tablas y otra madera de los montes", EM, 176.

34 Pollard, Tariacuri's Legacy, 118; EM, 173-180.

"Pollard, Tariacur i's Legacy , 133.

36BM, 83; "gue me preste o venda un pedazo de tierra

para poner a mi dios Curicaueri, . . .".

37 BM, 215.

"Beltran, "Tarascan State and Society," 143.

"Beltran, "Estado y Sociedad Tarrascos," 50-52.

"Alonso de Zorita, Life and Labor in Ancient Mexico: The Brief and Summary Relation of the Lords of New Spain (New Brunswick, NJ : Rutgers University Press, 1963), 195. .

68

4I Carrasco, La Sociedad Indioena , 71.

42Ulises Beltran, "Estado y Sociedad Tarascos," 52.

"Beltran, "Estado y Sociedad Tarascos," 52; for such tenure regimes in the Valley of Mexico see Charles Gibson, The Aztecs Under Spanish Rule: A History of the Indians of the Valley of Mexico (Stanford: Stanford University Press, 1964), 267.

"Beltran, "Tarascan State and Society," 204.

"William Cronon, Changes in the Land: Indians. Colo- nists, and the Ecology of New England (New York: Hill and Wang, 1983), 59. Regarding the Indians of New England, Cronon notes that ideas of ownership and sovereignty "could shade into each other in a way Europeans had trouble under- standing. "

"For full discussion of these changes see O'Hara

(1993); and Street-Perrott , et al. (1989), 764.

47 See for example, Elinor G.K. Melville, A Plague of Sheep (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1994)

"O'Hara, et al. (1993), 49.

"O'Hara, et al. (1993), 48.

50 Sherburne F. Cook, (1949), 42-44.

51 For details of the Spanish arrival and the first years of colonial rule see J. Benedict Warren, The Conquest of Michoacan; The Spanish Domination of the Tarascan Kingdom in Western Mexico 1521-1530 r (Norman: University of Oklahoma Press, 1985) ; see also Peter Gerhard, A Guide to the Histor- ical Geography of New Spain (Norman: University of Oklahoma Press, 1993), 343-354.

"Pollard, Tariacuri's Legacy, 79, gives a possible range for the population of the basin as between 60,750 and 105,000; Sherburne Cook, Soil Erosion and Population , 37, estimates the population of the district of Tzintzuntzan in 1520 as 95,400, a figure which includes some communities outside the basin itself.

"Warren, 281; a carga was about three bushels.

54 Brand, Ouiroga , 10.

Warren, The Concruest of M ichoacan , 246. .

69 "Gerhard, A Guide , 350.

"West, 25.

"Brand (1951), 123.

"West, 35-3 6.

60 Brand (1951), 123.

"Brand (1951) , 122.

"Relaciones Geocrraf icas r 115.

"Brand (1951), 122.

"Alonso Ponce, Relacion breve y verdadera in Viaies de Fray Mqusq Ponce al Occidente de Mevirn . (Guadalajara: Corresponsalia del Seminario de Cultura Mexicana, 1968) "West, 43.

"Brand (1951) , 140.

67 Ponce, 6; West, 43.

"Lesley Byrd Simpson, Exploitat ion of T.and in Central Mexico in the Sixteenth Century (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1952), 24.

"Brand (1951) , 152.

70 Simpson, Exploitat ion of T,and f 4-5.

71 Simpson, Exploita tion of T.and r 39.

12 Brand (1951), 21.

73 See Simpson, Exploitation of T,and r 24; and Claude Monn, M i choacan en la Nueva Espa na del sigio xvtt: creci- m i ento Y Des i gualdad en una ECQnonJLa Colonial (Mexico: Fondo de Cultura Economica, 1979), 291.

'George Foster, Culture and Conge st: America's Spanish Heritage (Chicago: Quadrangle Books, 1960), 66.

75 Carrasco, (1986), 89.

76 Brand (1951), 13-17; Cocupao later became the present- day city of Quiroga.

"Chevalier, Land and Society , 88. . ,

70

78 Foster, Culture and Conquest , 67.

"Gibson in Bethell (1987), 388

"Simpson, Exploitation of T,and r 24; Delfina Esmeralda Lopez Serralangue, La Noble za Indlgena de Patzcuaro en la Epoca Virreinal (Mexico, D.F.: UNAM Instituto de Investi- gaciones Historicas, 1965), 136.

"Brand (1951), 10.

82 Gibson, The Aztecs, 257.

83 Friedrich (1970), 2.

84 Brand (1951) , 23

85Morin, 284-285; see also Charles A. Hale, Mexican in the Age of Mora, 1821-1853 (New Haven: Yale University Press, 1968), 225-226, for a discussion of Bour- bon era land tenure in Mexico generally.

86 See the references in Chapter One, pages 3-9; In a 1990 essay, Frans J. Schryer points out that "Most writers, especially popular writers and journalists, portray the

Nahua community as the survival of a pre-Hispanic commune. . . . This simplified and idyllic image of the Indian commu- nity is widely shared by the Mexican public, including most politicians." See Frans Schryer, "Ethnic Identity and Land Tenure Disputes in Modern Mexico," in John E. Kicza, ed. The Indian in Latin American Hi story: Resistance. Resil- ience, and Acculturation (Wilmington, DE: Jaguar Books, 1993), 203. CHAPTER 3

PROPERTY AND ECOLOGY IN THE NINETEENTH CENTURY

By the time of Mexican independence, the property

regime in the Patzcuaro basin encompassed a range of re-

sources from land to trees to fish. Although there is some

evidence that the prehispanic Tarascans did not include land

itself as property, in the nineteenth century it is clear that the indigenous residents understood European concepts of land ownership and use. As to the other objects of property, indigenous modes of use and the rights and duties pertaining to resources, remained in many ways similar to ancient forms. The property regime that had evolved, and would continue to do so, provided the structure for the exploitation, management, and control of basin resources in the context of the larger political economy.

As will be seen, the villages of the Patzcuaro basin were settlements whose social and economic functions de- pended in large measure on the collective nature of land- holding. They were, therefore, communities whose subsis- tence and survival depended directly on relationships not only with the natural world, but with their fellow human residents. In such a community, collective interest typi- cally took primacy over individual gain.

71 72

The Cultural Geography of the Patzcuaro Basin 1

Generally, the Tarascan communities of the lake zone

that had survived the epidemics of the early colonial period

continued to exist into the nineteenth century. In addi-

tion, some villages had been formed from the remnants of

Tarascan settlements, and Creoles had settled in a few

towns, haciendas, and ranchos. A statistical survey con-

ducted in the 1820s by Juan Jose Martinez de Lejarza sug-

gests a population for the lake region, in the old partido

de Patzcuaro, of about eighteen thousand, which includes the

larger towns and their non-Indian residents. If we remove

Patzcuaro city we are left with a mostly-indigenous popula-

tion of about thirteen thousand in 1822. 2 A government

report from 1887 suggests limited growth in the indigenous

villages, while the towns of Patzcuaro and Quiroga had

increased dramatically in population, although the figures

seem unreliable. 3

The Patzcuaro basin appears to have been largely an

economic backwater through the colonial and Independence

period. There was some copper mining south of the lake

zone, sugar production flouished in the tierra caliente to

the west, and the fertile bajio to the north furnished

foodstuffs, but transportation in and out of the basin was difficult and expensive. In an 1849 study, it was noted that in Michoacan transporting agricultural goods out of the state was hindered by lack of means for exportation. 4 In 73

the early decades trails and rough roads connected the

villages and the larger towns; most freight being carried on

the backs of mules, burros, and horses, introduced by the

Spaniards, and humans, in the ancient Tarascan manner. 5

According to Brand, wheeled travel was largely absent other

than on the route between Patzcuaro and ; road im-

provement elsewhere only began in the middle to late nine-

teenth century. In the 1840s, notes Ignacio Piguero, "im-

proved" roads within the basin connected larger towns of

Patzcuaro, Tzintzuntzan, Erongaricuaro and Cocupao. 6 The

main routes to the state capital and the national capital

went through Patzcuaro and on to to the west, giving

the southern sections of the zone a more-direct connection

to the major centers. The northern section, from

Tzintzuntzan around the top of the lake to Erongaricuaro,

had little nonlocal traffic and was seldom visited by out- siders.

The lake itself was the most important transportation

channel, although one that did not connect with the outside

world. Up to the twentieth century, canoes plied the waters

of the lake, connecting the lakeshore and island villages

with the larger towns. The canoes appear to have changed

little since prehispanic times, being "dugouts" made from the trunk of a single tree. In 1897 Frederick Starr found

"scores of canoes" plying the lake, some carrying a single paddler and others holding as many as eight. According to 74

Starr's account, a journey in such a canoe from the wharf at

Patzcuaro in the south to Santa Fe de la Laguna at the north end required about five hours. 7 The canoes were the only means for transporting freight and passengers on the lake until the steam ship arrived toward the end of the century and motor launches arrived in the next.

The lake zone communicated with the outside area through the larger towns, the villages having little contact with the larger world other than occasional visits to these centers. It appears that Erongaricuaro was at one time a connection with the mountain villages to the west, but declined during the course of the century as trade between the Sierra and the lake decreased in importance. Patzcuaro was a primary center for mule trains in and out of the zone, especially toward Valladolid (Morelia) to the east. Accord- ing to Brand, Quiroga "was an emporium for the exchange of goods between the plateau and the lowlands." Its commercial importance peaked between 1840 and 1880, connecting the northern Patzcuaro basin with the states of San Luis Potosi and . 8 Before the arrival of the railroad, it is likely that the pack trains hauled mostly manufactured goods out of the region, given the cost of such transportation for bulky grains. Reports indicated that aguardiente, textiles, soap, vegetable oils, and wooden products were transported.

In addition to the pack trains, traveling merchants

(comerciantes ambulantesl are noted throughout the century, 75

although they also declined after the 1880s. The small

traders carried pottery from Santa Fe de la Laguna and

Tzintzuntzan, and other local products to be sold outside

the state or in the tierra caliente. They returned later

with bananas, rice, hides, salt, pineapples, coconuts, dried

meat, and cheese. 5

Rail transportation to the basin began on June 1, 1886,

when the first train arrived at Patzcuaro from Mexico City,

loaded with sightseers and manufactured goods. 10 The line

would extend to Uruapan by 1899, with other branches in the

state not opening until after the Revolution. The northern

end of the lake was bypassed by the railroad, but shortly

after its completion, the steamship Mariano Jimenez began

service on Lake Patzcuaro, providing a wider transportation

network for the entire lakeshore region. The ship was

delivered in early 1887, arriving at the lake in eight

hundred pieces. Built in England, it was eighty five feet

long, fifteen feet wide and had a capacity of two hundred

tons. From its first test run on May 5, 1887, the ship

carried passengers and cargo for some thirty years with

stops at the lakeshore villages of Erongaricuaro and

Tzirondaro, at Patzcuaro and Quiroga, and the haciendas of

Ibarra and Charahuen. 11

At the time of Lejarza's survey, the first statistical analysis of Michoacan under Mexico's republican government, the state was divided into four deoartamentos twenty , one 76

partidPS, and ninety ayuntamientos . The lake zone was

entirely within the partido of Patzcuaro until 1868 when the

"Ley Organica de division territorial del Estado" divided the state into seventeen distritos , seventy five muni-

cipalidades, and 216 tenencias . Most of the basin was

within the Patzcuaro district, while the municipalidad of

Cocupao was placed under the jurisdiction of Morelia.

Cocupao (Quiroga) encompassed the northern quarter or so of

the lake and the lakeshore pueblos of Santa Fe de la Laguna,

Purenchecuaro, Tzirondaro, and the cabecera itself. To a

certain extent these entities were geographical expressions

of political, economic, and social relations that impinged

directly or indirectly on the basin's property regime. 12

The city of Patzcuaro had grown to be the political and

economic center of the region since Vasco de Quiroga made

his capital there in the sixteenth century. By the 182 0s a visitor could find grand houses, ten churches, two flour mills, a college, shops, and various workshops producing wool and cotton goods. The city was home to the local aristocracy of landowners from nearby haciendas and sugar estates in the tierra caliente to the west. Although not sited at lakeside, Patzcuaro served as a transportation center for the routes that converged from the lake and mountain villages. The city apparently grew rapidly at the end of the colonial period, with the official population in

1788 at 3,339, growing to 5,129 by the time of Lejarza's 77

survey in 1822, and reaching 11,389 in 1868. 13 Patzcuaro had

been predominately Spanish since the years after the Con-

quest, with most Indians residing in the dozen or so subject

barrios and pueblitos outside the city proper.

Although eclipsed by Patzcuaro, there were several

other towns in the lake district that had some political

and/or economic importance, all eventually becoming head

towns of a municipalidad . Cocupao, today's Quiroga, occu-

pied tableland at the foot of higher slopes near the north-

east tip of the lake. From maps it appears that the lake

shore was once at the edge of the town, but has since re-

ceded westward a kilometer or so, probably before the end of

the nineteenth century. 14 In 1822, Cocupao was still a

"pueblo de indios" that produced maize and wheat, and wooden

articles. 15 Tzintzuntzan, the old Tarascan capital, is

located on a plain at the northeast corner of the lake and

sandwiched between two hills, one of which bears the name of

the ancient Tarascan king, Tariacuri. Other than the crops

grown in the nearby fields, Tzintzuntzan was noteworthy for

its fine pottery, a cottage industry that was practiced here

since prehispanic times. According to Lejarza, the town had been reduced to a "miserable indian pueblo" after the capi- tal was moved to Patzcuaro, but was beginning to recover under the new government, which made the town a political seat. The population in 1822 was 2,254, and 4,852 in 1868, far fewer than the 10,000 or so that lived there in 1520. 16 78

The last of the political centers of the basin was

Erongaricuaro, " still considered an Indian pueblo in the

early nineteenth century, altough Stanislawski suggests a

declining Indian presence in more-recent times. 18 From its

site on a flat bluff on the southwestern edge of the lake,

the community was an important transportation and market

center between the lake and the mountain villages since

prehispanic times. Lejarza found it to be a productive

community with its fields of maize, wheat, and beans. He

also noted the importance of nuts, wood, reeds, and fish in

the Erongaricuaro area's economy. 19 In 1822 it was only

about half the size of Tzintzuntzan, with a population of

1,2 61, but it had not declined as had the former capital;

Cook and Simpson give its 1554 population at 624. 20

Two other important elements of the basin ecology were the haciendas and ranchos, both larger, privately-owned properties that were established over the course of the colonial period. Haciendas, however, were not the dominant

form of agricultural enterprise within the basin as they were in other parts of Michoacan and Mexico. These large estates producing crops and livestock for the market ap- peared during the seventeenth century, but were limited in size by the region's isolation and terrain. As Brand notes, the Patzcuaro area "was a region of comparatively dense agricultural Indian population, of poor pasture lands, and of minimal water supply in the dry season from February to 79

May, which factors kept the large estates of haciendas from attaining the size of the latifundios in northern Mexico." 21

Ranchos were smaller properties, often sections of haciendas that had been sold by the hacendado or inherited by a family member. The term rancho or rancheria also designated small settlements formed by outsiders migrating to the basin area or groups that split off from other commu- nities, but these were more-commonly formed in the twentieth century." In Michoacan, ranchos were sometimes owned by members of the former Tarascan nobility or their heirs, but according to Brand, were generally owned by non-Indians, as were the haciendas. 23

The exact number of haciendas and ranchos near the lake in the early nineteenth century is uncertain, but for the entire Patzcuaro political district Lejarza found eigh- teen haciendas and twenty-nine ranchos. Haciendas were concentrated south of the lake near Patzcuaro city, no doubt because of its population size and transportation links.

Ranchos were more common to the west of the lake in the

Erongaricuaro municipio. 24

Surrounding the lake and subject to the larger towns were the pueblos, most of predominately-Tarascan character in the early nineteenth century. The villages ranged in size from the tiny Tocuaro with just over one hundred resi- dents to Santa Fe de la Laguna with nearly twelve hundred. 25

Most of the communities were on the lake shore or within a 80

kilometer or so of open water; five were, in fact, islands

within the lake. Only Ajuno, a prehispanic market site, was

more than two kilometers from the lake, and topographical

maps suggest that the village may have been much closer to

lakeside when the lake surface was higher. 26 Lejarza men-

tions no communities on what had been the southeastern arm

of the lake in the early sixteenth century, which suggests

that when the lake receded naturally or was drained in

subsequent centuries the communities disappeared. Neverthe-

less, by the nineteenth century there were about thirty

communities within the lake zone that were identified as

Indian pueblos. 27

TABLE 1 Population of Basin Communities in is??

Patzcuaro 5, 129 San Diego Cocupao (Quiroga 2,752 Tzintzuntzan 2,254 Santa Maria Erongaricuaro 1,261 Santa Fe de la Laguna 1, 151 San Geronimo Janitzio 915 San Francisco Ihuatzio 562 San Andres Zirondaro 519 San Geronimo Purenchecuaro 489 San Jose Huecorio 278 San Pedro Pareo 169 Santa Ana Ichapitiro 159 San Barolome Pareo 130 Santa Maria Tzentzenguaro 128 San Miguel Nocutzepeo 126 San Pedro Zurumutaro 111 San Andres Tocuaro 109

Source: Lejarza, 115-133.

The larger cities tended to appear more European in character, with Patzcuaro and Quiroga being predominately 81

Spanish. Tzintzuntzan and Erongaricuaro developed a dual character over the course of the century. Each of these towns, with the exception of Patzcuaro, had a resident indigenous community that could be identified as late as the first decade of the twentieth century. Of course, the population had grown over the three hundred years of colonial rule; the government reported that in the lake area the pueblos as a group were two-thirds Indian with the remainder of mixed ancestry. 28 Well into the twentieth century the lake zone has been described as retaining strongly Tarascan cultural elements. Robert West's 1940 study notes that the Lake Patzcuaro area was then at the center of a region resisting foreign influences.

In the maps of 1750, 1800, and 1850 these regions stand out as the only large purely indigenous part of

Tarasca. . . . Although the Tarascan area first to harbor Spaniards was the Lake region (Patzcuaro,

Tzintzuntzan) , some of its pueblos have succeeded in preserving the native tongue. Such towns are located on the islands and in isolated positions on the shore. 29

Of the twenty-seven lake area communities listed by West, seventeen still had a Tarascan population of 90 percent or more in 1940. 30 In the nineteenth century/ evidence suggests most of the villages along the lakeshore were considered culturally Tarascan. The degree of mestization and endogamy varied among the villages, and was related to both popula- tion size and proximity to larger towns and haciendas.

Carolyn C. McGovern-Bowen notes "the strong sense of cul- tural identity retained by the Tarascan Indians" and their 82

"generally slow pace of hispanization, " which she attributes

in large measure to the relatively high level of racial

endogamy and lack of migration from outside the state. 31 The

pueblos at the south end of the lake, near Patzcuaro city

and its adjacent haciendas, appear to have retained less of

their Tarascan culture than the more-isolated villages. 32

Resource Use and the Objects of Property

The Tarascan village of the nineteenth century was an economic unit, to a certain extent self-sufficient, with

most production consumed within the village. Community

members had little contact with the outside world on a day-

to-day basis since external transportation was not well

developed until the second half of the century. Trade was

very limited, consisting mostly of the handicrafts produced

for sale to neighboring villages and towns. Some of the agricultural goods were sold outside or were used to pay the tithe, or dJ^zmQ. 33

In 1822 Lejarza recognized that in all of the villages production was linked intimately to various elements of the basin environment. 34 These elements had become resources when they were defined as such by Tarascan culture, often in the distant past. As suggested in the previous chapter, environmental conditions often brought an emphasis on cer- tain resources, while changes in the environment sometimes reguired a shift in resource use. Further, various politi- cal, social, and economic changes might also alter the 83 relationships between humans and environmental elements, even though the resources themselves, the objects of the property regime, remained unchanged. We will see below how the natural resources of the basin were exploited in the nineteenth century and how such exploitation was related to the property regime, which would itself change over the course of the century.

Handicrafts, primarily pottery and tule weaving, that relied on local raw materials have been mentioned freguently for several of the villages. Most other cottage industries, including many identified by twentieth-century investiga- tors, were absent from Lejarza's report but were in evidence at other times. 35 As noted in Lejarza's report and more- recent studies, the villages tended to specialize in their handicrafts, in some cases a majority of the working resi- dents engaged in the same craft. For example, the manufac- ture of fishing nets on the island of Janitzio is recorded in 1789 and up to the 1940s. Hats, manufactured from im- ported palm leaves, were the main occuption of Jaracuaro residents in the late nineteenth century, which West attrib- utes to the island's lack of tillable land. 36 Santa Fe de la

Laguna manufactured wooden products in the eighteenth cen- tury and up through the time of Lejarza's survey, but as of the late nineteeth century, the community had shifted almost entirely to pottery-making. Woolen products were woven in the eighteenth century at Patzcuaro, but it is reported that 84 only the native backstrap loom, used for weaving agave fiber before Europeans introduced sheep, was common. 37 As noted,

Tzintzuntzan has been famous for the production of ceramics since prehispanic times and up to the present day, and pottery-making has been a casual or full-time occupation in many other basin villages. With few exceptions all of the pottery manufacturing in the greater Tarascan area was concentrated in the areas of charanda clay soils, suitable for ceramics, which includes much of the lake zone. 38

Perhaps the craft most characteristic of the Lake

Patzcuaro region is the weaving of the frequently-mentioned tule reeds. Although their extent has diminished in recent times, they apprently covered large areas well into the nineteenth century. 39 The rise and fall of the lake, and the consequent shift in reed resources, has been a fundamental element in the lake 1 s ecology given the ubiquity of the reeds in Tarascan life. The reeds were used primarily for making the indigenous sleeping mat or petate and the fire

40 fan or soplador . Tule weaving is clearly of prehispanic origin and continues to the present, although currently much of the production is aimed at the tourist trade in addition to the still-important petate-making. The reeds are cut from the shallows along most of the lake's shoreline, then twilled into their finished pieces, a process that takes about half a day for one petate." 1 As noted above, with the region's craft specialization many villages are linked .

85

closely with the tule-weaving occupation, although the

process is common throughout the area. The profession of

petatero was common, especially in the north shore communi-

ties of Purenchecuaro and Tzirondaro. 42

Fishing continued to be a primary productive activity

in the nineteenth century, but it was declining by the time

of West's 1940 study, and is only minimally important on the

lake today. 43 Fishermen were found in many of the lakeshore

communities, and especially on the islands; Janitzio has

long been associated with the fishing industry as suggested

by Lejarza's 1822 report. 44 The native dugout canoe and nets

were the primary tools of the trade, with the profession of

redero or netmaker still apparent in the 1940s. 45 The but-

terfly net has declined along with the fish population,

today displayed only for tourists and National Geographic

Magazine photographers. George Foster suggests that such

dip nets are not indigenous to the Americas and believes it

to be an introduction. Drawings accompanying the Relacion

de Michoacan , however, seem to show these characteristic nets. West and Foster report the use of a long seine,

introduced from Spain, for catching larger fish, and a smaller gill net that may be indigenous. 46

The two most important species taken from the lake have been the delicious pescado bianco and the minnow-sized charal 47 Carl Lumholtz, in a chronicle published in 1902,

mentions a salamander, the axoltl . which is taken for food 86 and from whose skin is extracted a cure for asthma, while

Jose Maria Perez Hernandez, in his 1873 geographic study, describes a "fish" known as the achoque from which is ex- tracted a "syrup" for curing " tuberculosis de pulmones .'" 8

It is possible that both writers are referring to the same species.

Hunting through the nineteenth century and into the next was largely confined to waterfowl on the lake. Ducks were apparently taken in great quantity, with the Tarascans continuing to use the indigenous throwing spear into the twentieth century. Lumholtz describes a mass duck hunt involving eighty to one hundred canoes that surrounded the large flocks that congregate on the lake in winter. The spear and its accompanying throwing stick are indigenous, but the former were tipped with a three-pointed iron gaff by

49 1902 . None of the nineteenth-century reports mention hunting other animals in the lake region, suggesting that the activity had no economic importance, as it had in pre- hispanic times. Foster, Brand, and West found no land- animal hunting by the 1940s, other than as a pastime. Brand suggests that peccaries, wolves, jaguars, pumas, wild tur- keys, and other birds became extinct within the fifty or one hundred years before his 1951 report, but whether these species existed in the nineteenth century is not known.

As noted in Chapter Two, the Tarascans have been ex- ploiters of forest products since prehispanic times, such 87

that within the lake basin, deforestation has been an ongo-

ing ecological process for hundreds of years. By the nine-

teenth century the cutting of good quality wood for con-

struction or craft work had receded some distance from the

lake, and timber extraction by the mid-twentieth century has

become associated only with the villages of the Sierra. The

shift in Santa Fe de la Laguna from woodcrafts to ceramics

in the last quarter of the century may have been due to the

difficulty in obtaining appropriate wood near the village.

Nevertheless, the Tarascan villages continued to consume

firewood and lumber harvested from areas adjacent to the

lake. Unlike in the Sierra, adobe was the preferred form of construction with lumber used largely for planks and raf- ters. 50

Commerical lumbering operations began in the area during the last two decades of the century, the effects of which increased as one moved away from the lake. The steam- ship that began operating on Lake Patzcuaro in 1887 had lumber and firewood among its most important cargoes. An official report mentions the forests near the lake suffi- cient to supply the ship with thirty tons of firewood daily.

Lumber was also cut and transported to the train depot at

Patzcuaro for shipment outside the state of Michoacan. 51

Given the extent of deforestation reported in the 1940s, it may be that the arrival of the railroad and steamship greatly accelerated forest loss. 88

Since there is considerable evidence of deforestation

and erosion before the Conquest and in the early colonial

period, it is probably safe to assume that some forest

regeneration occurred in the seventeenth and eighteenth

centuries. From Independence through the Reform period,

forests may have been relatively abundant in the basin,

perhaps even near the shore. In the last quarter of the

nineteenth century a new round of forest exploitation began

that took advantage of the trees that had grown over the

preceding 250 years, which accounts for the extent of defor-

estation encountered by visitors in the 1940s and subse-

quently. There is an 1880 report from Quiroga that 130

eucalyptus trees had been planted in the town, perhaps as a

beautif ication measure, but reforestation in the countryside

was apparently not practiced. 52

Although there are no nineteenth century references to

gathering activity, other than tule, its presence in the

distant past and in the twentieth century suggests that it

continued. Wild food and medicinal plants were commonly

used by the Tarascans, collected from the nearby monte and

from fields during fallow periods. Certain annual greens,

sakua in purepecha, are harvested from the disturbed ground

along the edges of planted fields. 53 According to Brand, oil

from the chicalote or "prickly poppy" was produced in

Quiroga in 1883 — "almost entirely from wild plants which spring up in abandoned or fallowed fields."" 89

The most extensive and apparent resource use activity

for the basin was agriculture, whether for subsistence or

commercial sale. Hunting and fishing would all but disap-

pear over the next century and a half, craft work would

become economically important only after the mid-twentieth

century, but farming would continue to consume most of the village residents' work day. During the course of the

nineteenth century, however, farm ecology in the Patzcuaro basin would change, particularly in the relations of agri-

cultural production characteristic in the zone.

The crop types and basic agricultural system in the

lake zone has been outlined above in the section on the colonial period. During the early nineteenth century there would be little change in the way Tarascan farmers went about producing their crops. As suggested, the ubiguitous crops in the basin were maize and wheat, the former for millenia and the latter since the 1520s. In addition, many other plants were grown by the prehispanic Tarascans or were introduced by the Spanish that continued to be cultivated through the nineteenth century. It would appear that there had been no new introductions between the early sixteenth century and recent times. The study of the Quiroga area by

Donald Brand suggests that "more than 99 percent" of the crops grown in the 1940s were pre-Conguest or European. The chroniclers Lejarza and Perez Hernandez specifically mention wheat, maize, nuts, chili, barley, beans of various kinds, 90 and fruits generally. These crops were probably the most widespread in the basin, and may have been of the most importance economically.

The largest crop in volume was maize, with the annual harvest for the Patzcuaro district in the 1840s given as

139,260 fanegas (126,468 hectoliters.) Wheat produced was

13,625 cargas (24,747 hectoliters.) Forty years later production of these crops had reached 250,000 fanegas

(227,037 hectoliters) and forty thousand cargas (72,651 hectoliters) repectively. In the 1880s the district pro- duced thirty thousand cargas of kidney beans (54,489 hecto- liters) and twenty thousand cargas (36,326 hectoliters) each of broadbeans and barley." Although the reports do not specify, these figures probably reflect commercial crops

grown on the region's haciendas and ranchos .

The state of agriculture in the Patzcuaro area was found to be "little advanced" by the last guarter of the century. A report in the Gaceta Oficial in March of 1887 states that agriculture in the area was, "as it always has been, reduced to the cultivation of maize, wheat, kidney beans, broadbeans, lentils, barley, and small-scale vegeta- ble gardening." 56 Presumably the government officials were impressed with neither the choice of crops nor the methods employed in their production.

The basic unit of agriculture for village residents was the small milp_a. or ecuaro , generally farmed by an individual 91

family. A peasant household might have a small field, or

several small fields, of a few hectares as well as a garden

within the family compound. Small clearings on communal

lands, desmontes , were sometimes used by individual families

for their own subsistence needs as well. The size of an

agricultural holding was expressed in terms of the amount of

maize that could be sown on the plot. Thus, a plot might be

listed as "faneaa v media de sembradura de mai7 " r or one and

a half fanegas of maize sown (about four and a half hect-

ares.) The farmer might discover, however, than the actual

amount of grain that could be sown on the property was less

than expected. 57 Farm plots were often guite irregular in

shape, and their dimensions were difficult to determine.

Although villages remained linked to agriculture, there

were some variations within the basin based on ecological or

economic factors. As noted, areas with little arable land,

such as the islands, were more often tied to fishing or

other resource exploitation. The steep-sided Janitzio is the best example of a village with a primarily fishing economy, but even there, horticulture, if not small-field agriculture, was practiced. 58 More importantly, communities closer to the haciendas, especially on the south side of the lake, would be more likely to have residents who spent at least part of their time as labradores , day laborers on the commercial farms. 92

The Vi llage Property Regime

Until the last quarter of the nineteenth century, claims to most basin resources—property rights—were played out in a local context, with control and influence diminish-

ing as the political scale increased. As will be discussed

in the next chapter, state and national governments were

weak and disorganized, and their ability to address issues

of land tenure was very limited.

The family or household was the primary mechanism for

resource exploitation, providing most of the labor and

determining in large measure the way time and space were

used. Since markets, credit, and outside information were

largely unavailable for indigenous farmers in the lake zone,

or were unnecessary, a family's needs, goals, and values

remained most important in resource use decisions. In order

to survive, families needed land on which to grow their

crops, but they also required other resources, either to

consume directly, to trade, or to use for social or politi-

cal obligations. The village property regime provided for

these needs. With most land used by the Indians tied col-

lectively to the village, the entitlements and duties of

resource use were, to a considerable extent, expressions of

the social and economic functions of the corporate commu- nity. 59

Documents pertaining to land in nineteenth-century

Mexico show clearly that people expressed their rights to 93

resources by membership in a community. Although people did

migrate from one community to another, the effects of such

migration on land tenure were limited. The combination of

racial endogamy, spacial endogamy, and patrilocality would

seem to have kept most Tarascans tied to a particular commu-

nity for life, especially the male, heads of household to

whom land was later distributed. Thus, a community is

defined primarily by those who make up its membership, in

addition to having some form of external recognition by

other communities, or larger-scale governments. 60

As noted above, some of the basin pueblos emerged from

settlement patterns established by the Spanish after the

Conguest, but others were survivals from long before. Vasco

de Quiroga 1 s pueblo-hospital of Santa Fe de la Laguna was

founded within an ancient indigenous settlement, and is an

example of the synthesis of Tarascan and Spanish elements.

All of the communities, nevertheless, reflected the belief

that the village had a collective claim on a piece of land

or other resources. Thus, in the nineteenth century the

landholding pueblo was a principal feature of the property regime in the basin, and consequently helped define the structure of the region's ecology. Indian communities were considered civil corporations by the Michoacan and Mexican governments throughout the period, with power generally vested in a town council. Community title to land, of some extent, generally had the legal recognition of authorities, 94

but claims to other resources were seldom officially ac-

knowledged. Even without formal title, however, communities

claimed sovereignty over all types of resources by right of

tradition, proximity, or outright occupation. Whether or

not the state recognized village rights, the long-term

settlement of a particular space seemed to convey a strong

claim. 61

The community exercised its sovereignty by apportioning

land and other resources to its members and by excluding

outsiders. Of course, a village's claim had to be accepted

by any outsiders who might have an interest in the same

property or the community must be prepared to defend its

right in some fashion. Before the emergence of the Tarascan

state, according to Pollard, dispersed settlement made such

conflicts over property rare." Under the Tarascan empire, village property claims were subordinated to those of the king. With the reorganization of settlement during the

Spanish colonial period, village rights often came to be expressed in European terms as communities sought legal, written title to lands they occupied and used.

By the nineteenth century and Independence, defense of community claims to property relied on Mexican legal and bureaucratic processes. Villages based their claims on their ancient rights as aboriginal owners of resources, relying on the standard argument that they have owned the land "from time immemorial." In addition, villages 95 supported their rights by claiming title granted by the

Spanish crown." The Indian communities of Santa Fe and

Quiroga have had a long-simmering dispute over lands north- east of the lake, continuing from at least 1837 up to the present time. In making their claim, the Quiroga litigants used a royal title granted in 1534, apparently signed by the son of the last Tarascan king. 64

There were freguent cases in the nineteenth century of

Tarascan villages pressing community claims to both culti- vated land and non-agricultural property. Indigenous commu-

nities referred to specific monte potrero , and , terrenos montanosos that pertained to their pueblos. 65 In 1878, the indigenas of Tacambaro complained about the extraction of wood without permission from their community lands. 66 Pedro

Carrasco mentions the cases of Ihuatzio and Jaracuaro in which shoreline areas and their reeds were owned by the villages and distributed to members. 67 Similarly, fishing rights were claimed by specific communities and such rights persisted into the twentieth century, as suggested by George

Foster. Fishing rights are difficult to determine since there are no written records pertaining to them, and dis- putes never went through official channels. Foster's re- search in the 1940s suggests that such rights were under- stood by fishermen from lakeshore communities, with fishing zones clearly identified with certain villages. 68 96

Thus, the community claimed sovereignty over property

that was recognized, at least, by its members. Throughout

Mexico, the lands associated with rural communities re-

flected several forms of tenure that scholars have described

in various ways. Property delimited in these various forms

served important economic and social functions within the

village structure; first, it was linked to members' economic

subsistence, and second, it defined a village as a social

entity. 69

Certain village lands alloted directly to families were

called tierras de repartimiento or r ecuaro in purepecha, and

their tenure might be described as individual. Ostensibly,

the land could not be sold, and would be reapportioned

should the family abandon the land or its lineage end. The

family's right to the land only extended to its use, and it was linked to the property only in the sense that it might

return to the same general area year after year. 70 It was this relationship that Europeans often interpreted as pri- vate ownership. It was clear that an individual family might cultivate a particular area for a long period, and it therefore had certain unique claims to the property that were recognized by the entire community. It is likely, as

William Taylor found for Oaxaca, that families came to believe certain lands were "theirs," notwithstanding the fact that ownership was vested officially in the community. 71

Certainly, as will be discussed later, individuals in the .

97 basin pueblos sought formal title to the lands they farmed during the period of privatization at the end of the cen- tury.

But any claims they had were subordinate to the village as a whole, and land that was not in use, such as during fallow periods, was generally opened to the rest of the village for grazing or gathering. There is no evidence that individually-alloted lands were routinely transferred out- side the community; transfers and conflicts within the village must have been handled internally as they do not appear in state records. 72

Village property that was not alloted to individual families generally was of two types: areas that were open to all members for subsistence needs and communal resources that were used to provide for community expenses. The first type was often called the ej ido in the colonial period, but in the nineteenth century a variety of terminology was used; they were generally called simply "lands of the Indians" in legal documents. Such property generally was not culti- vated, but used for hunting, fishing, or collection, and encompassed nearby lake resources and forest land. It was owned by the community and all members had egual rights of use, but outsiders generally were excluded. Communities in the Tarascan area controlled the exploitation of nearby forest land with permission necessary only from village officials 98

The second type of community property was worked by villagers in groups or rented out with its proceeds accruing

to the can as de comunidad or directly cofradias to f the

societies organized to attend to religious activities. 73

According to Pedro Carrasco, in Michoacan the village

cofradia "was not a restricted group of people within the

community. . .but the whole Indian village formed the broth-

erhood." 74 By the nineteenth century lands to support the

religous cult had been eroded, but many villages continued to finance these activities with communal property. Vil-

lages used communal land and the revenue from them to pro- vide care for the sick, the upkeep of the church and priest,

for religious fiestas, and other works to benefit the commu- nity as a whole. In 1840, for example, the village of

Chilchota used its lands called " el Potrero y Magueyera " to provide for a school. 75 The income from communal reed lands of Jaracuaro had long been used to purchase candles for the church. 76 Throughout the Tarascan area, income from commu- nity lands were designated specifically for the expenses of

77 the hospital . Sepulveda mentions how the pueblo of San

Francisco Ihuatzio sold some of its communal land to the cofradia of the Hospital de Tzintzuntzan "to defray the expenses of the fiesta" for the village's patron saint. 78

Lejarza identified such lands in Michoacan, but found them to be "deteriorated and abandoned" after independ- ence. 9 Community religious and charitable expenses could be 99 considerable, and the quality and quantity of land dedicated to such uses had an important impact on the economic well- being of the village. 80 The management of these cofradia lands, and perhaps village property generally, was tied to the civil-religious hierarchy embodied in hospital officers and council of elders of each village. 81 These elders, principales in Spanish and t 1 arepiti in Purepecha, made up

the town council or cabildo , which exercised civil authority since colonial times.

Generally, most production in the villages was for the subsistence of families, either by exploiting the property that was specifically alloted to them or open to all village members in the manner described above. The collective nature of property assured access to essential resources by maintaining control of resources within the group. Collec- tive tenure required a degree of cooperation among members of a community, and the system of allot ing property may have helped in the sharing of limited resources. Differentiation as to landed wealth was inhibited in this system, which meant that most members of the collective had access to sufficient resources effectively guaranteed by the whole village. Differences in wealth within the villages before the twentieth century did occur, especially when there was insufficient communal land to finance religious obligations.

Cargueros , individuals responsible for cult expenses, some- times had to sell or pawn lands to meet responsibilities, 100

but Carrasco suggests this was uncommon in the basin outside

of the southern villages near the haciendas. Throughout the

Tarascan area, writes Carrasco, "differences in wealth. . .

were never more than a tendency." 82 Generally, most Tarascan

peasants had one or more small plots for maize, a kitchen

garden in their village sfilar (lot) , and a range of non-

cultivated areas for wood, fish, or reeds at their disposal.

The communal monte and shore lands made it possible for

villagers to obtain the raw materials for their handicrafts,

always a central aspect of Tarascan economy.

Since the issue was not ownership (in the Western

sense) but usufruct, precise definitions of an individual's

property were not strictly necessary. Collective tenure

based on use rights served the Tarascan farmers well, given an ecosystem where farm plots were small —often squeezed

into narrow spaces between old lava flows. Sizes of plots were relatively unimportant, and generally difficult to determine. Further, soil quality varied considerably and a

large plot with much malpals might produce less than a small plot of rich land, such as is found along the lakeshore and alluvial vallies. What mattered was the use to which the property was put and collective ownership ensured that the land alloted to a family was sufficient to provide for its subsistence. Through the nineteenth century, descriptions of land tended to focus on its features and its quality, rather than a specific acreage. It would seem to have .

101

mattered little that the land was bounded by reference to

nonenduring landscape features such as trees and arroyos

since the actual cropping cycle itself would reguire the

shifting use of the property. A plot might be planted for

only a few years before a longer period of fallow, during

which time it would not alloted to an individual.

Communal tenure was especially important in the non-

cultivated monte or lacustrine areas since resources in them

were dispersed or shifted over time, seasonally or over a

longer term. Wild food plants were routinely collected on a

community's land, but might only be available in restricted

areas, for example, near a water source or in heavy shade.

Open access to village members meant relative eguality in

taking advantage of limited resources. At the same time,

the villages shared the economic prosperity for expanding

resources or the declining fortunes associated with de-

creases in resource abundance. The shifting of tule reeds

is a good example in which the changing lake surface left

Santa Fe with abundant reed lands while Quiroga had almost

none. 93 Similarly, as timber resources declined near Santa

Fe they remained relatively more available near Quiroga,

leading to a shift to ceramic crafts in the former while the

latter kept a strong tradition of wood work. Thus, collec- tive tenure was linked not only to the economic well-being

of the village as a whole, but to its individual families as well .

102

Conclusion

It was the collective holding of local land and re- sources that helped bind the aggregate of residents into a community." As noted above, communal land was basic to

Tarascan folk culture, which by the nineteenth century was a blend of Spanish and native elements. Village landholding

fostered solidarity among members who, like the property regime, were bounded against those outside the group. As will be discussed in more detail later, throughout the colonial period and up to the present, village groups de- fended vigorously community land boundaries against individ- uals, other villages, and the state. Collective land utili- zation reflected shared interest in the two main economic functions of the village, agriculture and handicrafts, as well as the closely related spiritual elements of Tarascan culture. Village members expressed a clear community inter- est that was distinct from individual gain, or, at times, even individual well-being. 85 At the same time, individual families were the primary structures governing the use of resources on a day-to-day basis. Thus, Tarascan households understood their rights to resources on both an individual and community level

So, to speak of a village's "communal" land, by the nineteenth century implied a range of relationships between individuals, groups, political entities, and between humans and the environment. Land, reeds, fish, and trees were all 103 defined as resources in the nineteenth century. They were objects of property in the extent to which rights, duties, and rules of use were applied to them. In some cases prop- erty rights were tied very closely to individuals, as in land that had long been cultivated by a particular family.

Other resources, such as trees and fish, were more closely associated with the whole community and property rights had a more open character.

For most of the nineteenth century, community claims to specific resources remained strong, or at least strongly- felt, by village residents. Without denying individual interests, the collective utilization of resources and the tenure in land were basic to Tarascan society and culture.

As will be seen in the next chapter, the politically-domi- nant society often did not understand this fact, or chose to ignore it.

Notes

'Information on the rural situation in Michoacan during the first three decades after Independence is almost impos- sible to find. There is more material pertaining to the last half of the century and excellent anthropological and geographical research from the twentieth from which can be reconstructed the ecology and property regime of the nine- teenth. Further, some examples are drawn from outside the basin proper, but within the Tarascan cultural area.

2 Lejarza*s population figures are somewhat confused, but the estimate for the lake zone is derived by adding the populations of the tenencias of Tzintzuntzan, Cocupao, and Erongaricuaro to that of Patzcuaro and its barrios. Al- though the cabaceras had some non-Indians, and there were residents of European descent on haciendas and ranchos, the towns and pueblos were mostly or entirely Tarascan in 1822. Juan Jose Martinez de Lejarza, Analisis Estadistico de la Provincia de Michuacan en 1822 (Morelia: Fimax, 1974). 104

3 Gaceta Oficial 111:218 (Nov. 3, 1887), 2.

'Ignacio Piquero, "Apuntes para la corografia y la estadistica del Estado de Michoacan, Boletin del Instituto de Geoarafia y Estadistica de la Republics Mexicana Tercera Edicion (1861), 145.

'Carl Lumholtz, Unknown Mexico: A record of five years' exploration among the tribes of the western Sierra Madre; in the tierra caliente of Tepic and : and among the Tarascos of Michoacan (Glorieta, NM: Rio Grande Press, 1973), 369.

6 Piquero, 157.

Frederick Starr, In India n Mexico: A Narrative of Travel and Labor (Chicago: Forbes and Co., 1908), 69.

'Donald D. Brand. Ouiroga: A Mexican Municipio Smithso- nian Institution, Institute of Social Anthropology, Number 11 (Washington: Government Printing Office, 1951), 187.

9 Ibid, 197.

10 Enrique Florescano, Historia General de Michoacan (Morelia: Instituto Michoacano de Cultura, 1989), 197.

1 Gaceta Oficial r 11:171, 22 May 1887, 1.

12,, Ley Organica de Division Territorial del Estado," in Jose Maria Perez Hernandez, Geoarafia del Estado de Michoacan 1872. r 13 Dan Stanislawski, The Anatomy of Eleven Towns in Michoacan (Austin: University of Texas Press, 1950), 48-55; Lejarza, 116; Perez Hernandez, 10A.

"In his survey, Lejarza describes Cocupao as "sobre la extremidad del lago de Patzcuaro. . ." whereas lakeside communities are often described as being on the "orilla" or "el borde" of the lake; Lejarza, 115-125.

15 Lejarza, 122.

16 Ibid, 121.

I7 Most of the community names in the district have the dual character of a traditional name preceded by their patron saint's name. Thus, Erongaricuaro is also known as Santa Maria Erongaricuaro or simply Santa Maria. In most cases, this study uses only the traditional name unless necessary for clarification. 105

18 Stanislawski, Anatomy r 58.

19 Lejarza, 123.

20 Ibid; Stanislawski, Anatomy , 56; Lesley Byrd Simpson, "The population of 22 towns of Michoacan in 1554: A supple- ment to Cook and Simpson, The Population of Central Mexico in the Sixteenth Century," Hispanic American Historical Review 30 (1980), 249.

"Brand, Ouiroga r 20.

22 West, 24.

23 Brand, Ouiroga r 20.

2, Lejarza, 133.

"Lejarza' s population figures do not differentiate between Indians and non-indians residents of the seventeen communities for which he provides estimates. Other than the four largest, however, they were almost entirely indigenous until the twentieth century. Although Lejarza mentions some twenty-five villages in the basin, he only provides popula- tion figures for seventeen; see Table 1.

"Topographical maps produced by the Instituto Nacional de Estadistica e Informatica were consulted for this study. Used primarily was a 1:50,000 scale series, sections Cheran E14A21 and Patzcuaro E14A22.

"The communities so designated are those that the government legally "extinguished" after 1856, as will be discussed below. Lejarza specifically mentioned twenty nine communities near the lake, including the cabaceras. All of those mentioned in his survey continued to exist up to the present. There were other small communities in the lake zone, but either were ignored by Lejarza due to their size in 1822 or were otherwise not included. All of the communi- ties mentioned in this section became subject to the repartos after 1856.

;8 Gaceta Oficial 111:218, Nov. 3, 1887, 2.

;9West, 17.

30 One study has shown that in 1900 there were still 41,035 monolingual Tarascans in the entire state. See Elizabeth Holt Buttner, "Evolucion de algunos aspectos geodemograf icos del Estado de Michoacan, 1900-1970," in Memoria del VI Conareso Nacional d e Geoarafia (Morel ia: Gobierno del Estado de Michoacan, 1973), 198. 106

"Carolyn G. McGovern-Bowen, "Colonial Patzcuaro, Michoacan: a Population Study" (Ph.D. diss., Syracuse Uni- versity, 1986), 358, 373.

32 West, 17.

"Carrasco, La Sociedad Indiaena f 13.

34 Lejarza, 120.

35West provides an extensive discussion of handicrafts in the Tarascan cultural area including a review of those practiced in many of the basin villages. See West, 56-71.

36 West, 65.

31 Ibid, 64.

38 Ibid, 62.

39West (66) points out that in the 1940s the "petateros of Puacuaro, Napizaro, and Uricho import reeds from Jaracuaro island, the local supply having been exhausted years ago."

"West (66) gives the Purepecha word for the sleeping mat as k'uirakua and the fire fan as p'unitatarakua . See Appendix ? for a discussion of the Purepecha language.

41 Ralph L. Beals, Cheran: A Sierra Tarascan Village Smithsonian Institution, Institute of Social Anthropology #2

(Washington: Government Printing Office, 1946) , 71.

"Lejarza (122) mentions petate-making specifically for Purenchecuaro, and the notarial records for the late nine- teenth century consulted for this study frequently list petatero as the occupation for the residents of Tzirondaro.

43 Fishing is mentioned in most accounts pertaining to the nineteenth century including Lejarza and Perez H.

44 Lejarza, 119.

45West, 66.

46West, 54; George Foster, Empire's Children; The People Of Tzintzuntzan Smithsonian Institution, Institute of Social Anthropology #? (Washington: Government Printing Office, 1946), 45. 47 The pescado ) bianco (Chirostoma estor , a species that grows up to twelve inches, is known as kuruca urapiti in purepecha. The tiny charal is called c'arari . .

107

"Lumholtz, 448; Perez Hernandez, 82.

"Lumholtz, 449.

50 See Ralph L. Beals, Houses and House Use of the Sierra Tarascans Smithsonian Institution, Institute of Social Anthropology #1 (Washington: Government Printing Office, 1946)

" Gaceta Oficial 11:171 (May 22, 1887), 1.

52 E1 Municipal 1:2 (Oct. l, 1880) , 3.

"West and Brand provide lists of commonly-gathered wild products that have been consumed by basin residents for millenia. See West, 50-51; Brand Ouiroga A famous f 160-161] indigenous raiz de purgative, Michoacan , generated suffi- cient interest that a guantity of the root was taken to the

New Orleans exposition in 1884; Periodico Oficial , (Nov. 15, 1884), 3.

'"Brand, Ouiroga , 161.

"For 1840s figures see Piguero, 173; for 1880s see G_Q_ 11:152, 10 Mar. 1887, 3; The eguivalents used here come from the government standards published in the Periodico Oficial (IV: 37) of May 7, 1896. See Appendix ? for a complete listing of weights and measures with metric eguivalents.

i6 Gaceta Oficial 11:152 (March 10, 1887), 3.

" Archivo Historico de Notarias . Protocolos (1877), 77.

58 Lejarza [119]; Piguero [152] refers to the fertility of Pacandan, suggesting that there was more than kitchen gardens planted on the islands.

59There is considerable debate over the nature of the peasant community, and, for the most part, that debate is avoided here. Basin villages were clearly corporate commu- nities that performed essential political, social, and economic functions, and therefore, influenced directly the households that composed them. For further discussion of this debate, see Thomas E. Sheridan, Where the Dove Calls: The Political Ecology of a Peasant Corporate Community in Northwestern Mexico (Tucson: University of Arizona Press,

1988) , xv-xxiv; and Benjamin S. Orlove and Glynn Custred, Land and Power in Latin America: Agrarian Economies and Social Processes in the Andes (New York: Holmes & Meyer Publishers, 1980) ; Florencia Mallon, Peasant and Nation: The

Making of Postcolonial Mexico and Peru , Ch. 3. 108

"Ben j amine S. Orlove and Glynn Custred, Land and Power in Latin America: Agrar ian Economies and Social Processes in the Andes (New York: Holmes & Meyer, 1980), 48; McGovern- Bowen, passim.

61 Pedro Carrasco, Tarascan Folk Re ligion: An Analysis of Economic Social, and Religious Interactions , (New Orleans: Middle American Research Institute, Tulane, 1952), 13-14; William B. Taylor, Landlord and Peasant in Colonial Oaxaca

(Stanford: Stanford University Press, 1972) , Chapter 3 passim .

"See the discussion in Chapter Two, and the various works by Pollard cited in the bibliography.

"See AHPEM, Hijuelas , Distrito de Zitacuaro, Libro 6, Fojas 243-251; and ibid, Distrito de Apatzingan, Libro 5, Fojas 105-156.

6, Brand, Ouiroga , 11-14.

"See, for example, AHPEM, Patzcuaro, 1:288-303; ibid, 2: 1-101; ibid, 2:115-150.

66AHPEM, Tacambaro, 5:219-258.

"Carrasco, Tarascan Folk Religion. 21.

68 People of Tzintzuntzan In Empire's Children: The r Foster notes that "fishermen from the ranches near Tzintzuntzan cannot fish across the lake in waters belonging to Santa Fe and Chupicuaro, and the reverse holds good. On the other hand, fishermen from Janitzio continually come to the waters of Ichupio to fish, since their steep, rocky island has no good shallow waters. They are always welcome, and sometimes join forces with local fishermen. There are recognized reciprocal rights between the fishermen of the Tzintzuntzan area and those of San Andres, San Jeronimo, and Ucasanastacua. " [105]

69Much of this section is based on various works and is somewhat conjectural since there are few descriptions of early nineteenth-century Tarascan life. See Carrasco,

Tarascan Folk Religion; Beals, Cheran ; Brand, Ouiroga: and West.

'"Research conducted on Tarascan culture in the 1940s suggests that plots of land were rotated among families to ensure that farmers always had at least some more-productive land. There is no specific evidence on such practices for the nineteenth century, but it seems likely that farm plots were either rotated in this manner, or were rotated within a "

109

larger space alloted to a family unit. Given that farm plots were only two to four hectares by the 1940s, rotation among members was necessary, while in earlier times the greater abundance of land may have made larger family allot- ments possible. This will be discussed further in a later section.

71 Taylor, 78.

72 Foster, Empire's Children , 170.

"Lejarza [119) referred to islanders in Lake Patzcuaro "que siembran comunmente , " but it is unclear if this is a reference to lands worked collectively for village expenses or for family use.

'Carrasco, Tarascan Folk Religion. 27.

75AHPEM, Zamora, 4:1-6.

76 Carrasco, Tarascan Folk Religion , 21.

77 Changes in these relationships will be discussed below. For details on the traditional operation of the cofradias in Michoacan see Carrasco, Tarascan Folk Religion , 26-35, and Maria Teresa Sepulveda, Los Caraos Politicos y Reliaiosos en la Region del Laao de Patzcuaro. Mexico: INAH, 1974.

78 Maria Teresa Sepulveda y H. , Los Cargos Politics y Religiosos en la Region de Patzcuaro (Mexico: Museo Nacional de Antropologia, 1974), 79.

79 Lejarza*s Table number 7 lists the properties below for the entire partido de Patzcuaro. They are listed as "Bienes llamados de comunidad " but Lejarza notes that such f designation is "inappropriate." Nevertheless, they are "propiedad particular de los naturales de los pueblos." and " are de los Cofradia y Repartimiento . Haciendas: 1 Ranchos: 19 Solares: 82 Potreros: 1 Tierras de Labor: 9 fanegas de sembradura de maiz. Tierras pastales: 56 leguas cuadradas.

80 Carrasco, Tarascan Folk Relgion 28. f

31 Ibid, 14.

2 Ibid, 17. .

110

"Brand, Ouiroga , 161.

"There is a large literature on the deliniation of rural communities. See Benjamin Harrison Luebke, "Delinea- tion of Rural Communities in the State of Oaxaca, Mexico," Ph.D. diss. University of Florida, 1959, especially page 45; for examples of similar relationships in a different setting see Nancy Farriss, Maya Society Under Colonial Rule: The Collective Enterprise of Survival (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1984)

Carrasco, Tarascan Folk Religion , 29. CHAPTER 4

THE STATE AND VILLAGE LANDHOLDING

Village lands had been eroded in both an environmental and political sense for centuries. Haciendas, ranchos, and the Spanish and Creole population of the towns encroached on village resources legally and illegally, but during the colonial period there had been at least some attempts to

"protect" village lands. Collective tenure continued to provide economic and social support for basin communities, and to maintain their relationship with the Patzcuaro area environment for most of the nineteenth century.

Although the insurgency of the second decade caused much disruption in the state's economy, independence did not immediately bring any major changes in the lives of the rural residents of the Patzcuaro basin. However, the new political system, and its ideological underpinnings, pro- vided the context for the evolution of the basin ecology for the next hundred years. Provincial and national efforts to transform the property system began from the inception of the Mexican republic, and would accelerate in the 1850s.

This chapter attempts to show how the conflict between liberal theory and ecological reality helped shape the course of this process.

Ill 112

Disentailment Efforts before 1856

The reasoning for all attempts to reorganize the prop- erty regime is related in large measure to the liberal doctrines embraced by many Mexican politicians in the period after Independence. As Brian R. Hamnett notes, the Liberal

Party was "the principal instrument of change during the broader period from 1833 to 1876." This "disparate move- ment" sought to bring the new Mexican Republic into consti- tutional and secular world from its former status based on monarchy and the Catholic Church. It was an uneven develop- ment as the republic's political life was "vigorously con- tested" throughout the period. 1

Nevertheless, drawing on eighteenth-century ideas from

Europe and from Spanish policies on land use, liberalism, as practiced in Mexico, saw the individual property owner as the cornerstone of state and society. 2 As suggested by

Charles Hale, private land "would form the material basis of the strengthened and reorganized towns." 3 Lands held by the

Indian pueblos were seen as contrary to and inhibiting to the economic development of the country.

Outlined by Jose Maria Luis Mora, the liberal view gave the individual the inviolable right to property while a commu- nity's right to property "is purely civil, subseguent to society, created by it and conseguently subject to the limitations society wishes to put on it." 4 Communal owner- ship contributed to the "condition of stationary infancy" in 113 which the indigenous population was found, and, therefore, should be distributed to individuals under state auspices. 5

The Indians themselves were generally ignored before mid- century by both Liberals and Conservatives, although the former generally called for assimilation of native societies while the latter leaned toward separation and control. 6

The general conviction among the Liberals was that small properties owned by those who cultivated them would form the economic basis of the country. The Mexican Liber- als believed in individual property ownership as essential to the effective political and economic fuctioning of soci- ety. 7 Collective ownership, on the other hand, was an obstacle that restrained individuals from freely acting on their own behalf, what Michoacan governor call "misplaced communism." 8 Mora and others singled out the lands of the cofradia, which were considered to be

"clerical encroachments," a concern that combined the liber- als' views on both land and the church. 9

These attitudes toward land ownership were well estab- lished in Spain by the late-eighteenth century; Bourbon policy had called for the distribution of land to individu- als in order to enhance agricultural production. Attempts to transfer these ideas to the Americas had been under way long before Mexico achieved its independence. The bishop of

Michoacan, Manuel Abad y Queipo, as early as 1779 expressed grave concern about the system of land ownership in New 114

Spain, and especially about its relationship to the condi- tion of the Indians. 10 Although he had reservations about the natives' abilities, Abad y Queipo proposed laws that would, among other things, distribute community lands to the

Indians of each pueblo. 11

By the second decade of the nineteenth century, the revolutionary leaders Miguel Hidalgo and Jose Maria Morelos were raising the issue of land for the Indians in New Spain, and Spanish officials responded with measures to address the demands. 12 In 1812, the Cortes called for the distribution of land to married Indians or those of twenty-five years of age, but the decree specifically excluded from distribution lands " de communidades " unless the pueblo had a surplus. 13

According to Charles Hale, the "main law affecting post- independence thinking on land policy was issued by the

Cortes of Cadiz on January 4, 1813. " 14 The law called for the reduction of communal land to private property in Spain as well as in the colonies, but excluded the " ej idos needed by the pueblos." 15 The new landowners would enjoy full and exclusive ownership of their properties with the rights to enclose them if they so choose, for whatever use was most appropriate. 16 A decree later that year called for the naming of administrators in the pueblos to distribute the lands to community members. 17 Independence interrupted the application of the law in New Spain, but land policies would continue to be proposed by state and republican authorities. 115

On the national level, there was little attempt to address community-owned lands before the mid-1850s; instead, the Mexican national government concentrated on the redis- tribution of church lands and colonization by foreigners. 18

Both were intended to expand the number of small landowners at the expense of corporate holdings, but would leave lati- fundia intact since liberal tenets held all private prop- erty, regardless of size, as inviolable. 19 Independence and the formation of the republic had established the principle that the Indians were citizens egual in rights to all other inhabitants of the state and were therefore entitled to own property in their own right; indeed, the guiding principles of the republican government demanded that communal owner- ship be abolished. But, as Charles Hale notes, "by force of necessity, the congress departed from doctrinaire liberal views and reaffirmed, however tenuously, the right of the

Indian community to hold property." 20 The general disorgani- zation and weakness of the republican government had much to do with the lack of progress on land distribution. Before the Liberal political triumph of the 1850s, Mexico was wracked with conflict between Liberals and Conservatives, federalists and centralists, and a demoralizing war with the

United States. The national government was unable to estab- lish a consistent approach to the problem of Indian lands, and property concerns were generally left to the states, which, according to Brian Hamnett, is where the Liberal Party was strongest. 21 State-level party leaders, reflecting anti-centralist sentiments and local interests, were gener- ally opposed to the concentration of power in Mexico City.

Thus, land reform measures pertaining to local communities could be seen as something that should be addressed on the provincial level. 22

Michoacan state authorities would first approach the problem of Indian landownership from the perspective that the community could continue to exist as a corporate entity, but that its right to own property would be severely re- stricted. The comunidades indigenas would be preserved and only certain lands would be subject to individual distribu- tion, perhaps on the supposition that some pueblos had lands in excess of their needs. 23 While Mora and other liberal thinkers of the period objected to the Indian's "privileged" status, it seems that in Michoacan the indigenas were ac- cepted as a distinct group in Mexican society, and that the community had claims of some kind on at least some land. 24

In 1822, Juan Jose Martinez de Lejarza noted in his

Analisis Estadistico that the work was undertaken in part to help deal with the present state of community lands, which,

"in conformance to the liberal system adopted, should be returned to their legitimate owners." 25 Michoacan state officials wrote their first law aimed at distributing land to individuals in 1827. The law was intended to divide community lands in "equal" parts to the "descendents of the 117 primitive families" as individual property. Each family would receive one tract of at least " una cuartilla de maiz de sembradura ," less than one hectare, and the law provided for establishing values for the tracts distributed. Lands would be classified by a comision repartidora for agricul- ture, pasturage, "badlands," and hills. The only land exempted from the reparto were the village residential lots within the fundo legal. 26

This first reparto attempt had basic flaws that doomed it from the start. First, although it does not appear common in the Patzcuaro basin, Gerardo Sanchez notes how some villages rented their lands to outsiders to generate community revenue. The early reparto law threatened this revenue source giving rise to legal questions over rental contracts.' 7 Secondly, the law specified that the reparto for each village must be completed within sixty days.

During that time the commission had to identify divisible lands, conduct a census of the community, classify and value the property, and give formal possession to each family. It was nearly an impossible task, especially for larger vil- lages. 28

Most important for this study was the resistence in the villages to changes in such fundamental relationships. The liberal doctrines were, after all, general theories that their advocates attempted to apply without regard to local conditions, at least in the early years. 29 Under the terms 118 of the law it seems that a single villager of twenty-five could receive the same amount, or value, of land as a large family, giving the former relative wealth while the latter might be left with insufficient land for basic subsistence.

Given the uneven and often unproductive terrain of the

Patzcuaro basin, a plot of one hectare would be entirely inadequate for supporting a Tarascan family. Further, the belief that the land should be divided among the descendents of its original occupants neglected to consider the role collective ownership played in the lives of the Indians, as outlined in Chapter Three. In proposing the 1827 reparto law, the Michoacan state officials ran into basic conflicts with the communities that believed they had the right to dispose of their lands as they saw fit —whether to allot them to village residents or use them to provide for commu- nal obligations. 30

By mid-century, then, there was no change in the system of land tenure in Michoacan, but state officials continued to debate the issue and propose new measures. In 1846, the liberal governor Melchor Ocampo expressed concern about the control over community lands held by local authorities and suggested that the system kept the comuneros isolated from the rest of society, "perpetuating their ignorance and vices." 31 Ocampo was a major figure in the liberal movements of the period, and would go on to serve in the government of the Reforma. A wealthy hacendado, he studied the major 119 philosophers of the French Enlightenment and brought many of their ideas to Mexico. Seen as a friend of the Indians and an opponent of clerical privileges, Ocampo called for the distribution of land to the natives, but accepted the idea that corporate control of lands should be abolished. In addition, state officials believed that distributing lands would lessen the possiblity for rebellion by the Indian population. The result was the Ley y Reglamento sobre el Reparto de Bienes Comunales of 1851 that would lessen the liklihood of Indian rebellion and show the natives the value of private land ownership. 32 The new measure would divide village land in much the same fashion as the earlier mea- sure, but included various provisions to address the fail- ures of the 1827 law. It also was more sophisticated in attempting to define precisely what constituted "community" property and lands that legally could be distributed. Under the law, no lands could be sold to the " grandes terra- tenientes . " the large landowners who owned un criadero de ganado mayor or about 439 hectares. The law included cer- tain " principios de justicia ," in particular, the protection of the core of the community, the fundo legal and ejido, which were not subject to reparto, in the fashion of earlier

Spanish policy. As an incentive to the Indians, the law provided that land would be exempt from taxes for ten years if it remained in the hands of the recipient for that pe- riod. 33 120

The proposals for the reparto , however, met some

resistence once again from communities that wanted to pre-

serve commual tenure, despite the assurances that they would

retain the core of the village. Notably, the basin pueblo

of Santa Fe de la Laguna sought to avoid the reparto. Santa

Fe had a strong tradition of communal land, perhaps from

prehispanic times, but certainly intensified by Vasco de

Quiroga in his pueblo-hospital of the sixteenth century.

Melchor Ocampo noted these objections, and acknowledged that

some lands of the state did not lend themselves to an appro-

priate division, especially pasture and forest land. Fur-

ther, argued Ocampo, the application of the law and its

forced distribution of the land should not be imposed

against the will of the people. A reparto should only take

34 place when it was completely accepted by the comuneros .

For the guarter century after Independence, the ap-

proach to land reform in Michoacan was based on the assump-

tion that the indigenous villages had a basic right to

exist, and that their residents should retain their member-

ship in the corporate community. State leaders, although

expressing the belief in the advantages of private landown-

ership, seemed to recognize the role of the long-established

community. In acknowledging the importance of communal

land, the ejido, pastures, and woodlands, the official position showed at least tacit understanding of a commu- nity's ecological territory, as distinct from its legal 121

territory—something village residents no doubt saw as

threatened by the repartos.

But the reparto of 1851 would be halted finally by the

centralizing efforts of the president, Antonio Lopez de

Santa Anna, who would abrogate Michoacan's land distribution measure by official decree in August of 1854. Santa Anna would also take steps in 1854 to return to their communal

owners lands that had been usurped "without authorization or

right." 35 The central government's efforts themselves would be deflected when the Liberals forced into exile by Santa

Anna returned to put in place the government of the Reforma.

The Liberals and Community Land

On the national level, concern about the role of commu- nal property had been crystalized in the 1840s by the threat of Indian rebellion, manifested in the "Caste" wars of the

Yucatan and the Sierra Gorda. The rebellions were seen as

"communist" threats aimed at the "annihilation" of property. 36 Liberal spokesmen, notes Hale, "asserted that the recent rebellions were abetted by those who live under the 'cruel yoke of the community,'" and the "communal vice" had to be supressed. 31 While the conservatives were in charge, the Indians' status as minors was maintained and their tutelage under the Church supported. With the Liberal triumph in 1855, the position of the Indian community and the Catholic Church came to be the target of national gov- ernment action. 122

In June of 1856 the Minister of the Treasury, Miguel

Lerdo de Tejada, drafted a federal law that represented a

basic change in the approach to land tenure in Mexico.

Expressing the liberal position that "one of the main obsta-

cles for the prosperity and aggrandizement of the Nation, is

the lack of movement or free circulation of a large part of

the country's property," the law would distribute corporate

property to individual owners. 38 The measure was intended

primarily to eliminate the control of the vast Church prop-

erties, but was sufficiently broad as to encompass lands owned by the civil corporations —the Indian villages whose lands were owned communally and administered by the town

councils. The main goals of the law, as outlined in a

circular issued by Lerdo, was to put the country's land to

productive use and, as a fiscal measure, to generate tax

revenue for the state. 39 Under the provisions of the law at

its initial publication, the property of civil corporations

would be sold to its tenants for a price based on the amount

of rent charged annually, with the former owner taking back

a mortgage on the property. The law also required the

payment of a sales tax of five percent. Lands not sold to

renters within three months of the law's publication, or properties for which no sales tax was paid, would be put up

for denunciation and auction to the general public. Tenants who failed to exercise their claims to purchase land within the three-month term would forfeit their rights. But for 123

those who acquired land under the terms of the law, whether

purchased in large lots from the ecclesiastical holdings or

in a farm plot from a pueblo, they would have full rights to

use or dispose of the land as they saw fit. 40

The wording of the law and its subsequent regulations

made it clear that it was primarily focused on ecclesiasti-

cal property, including "religious communities of both

sexes," religious brotherhoods, and parishes. 41 The Indian

community came to be addressed by the measure in Article

Three that specified ayuntamientos "and in general any

establishment or foundation that has the character of per-

petual or indefinite duration." 42 The law not only called

for the disentailment of lands, but denied to civil and

ecclesiastical corporations the right to acquire or adminis-

ter certain types of property. 43 Since the Reforma legisla-

ture felt that the village land of the Indians languished because much of it remained communal, the law would help to bring about their long-held idea of a nation of small pro-

prietors .

Because the wording of the law was somewhat ambiguous, there was confusion about how it might be interpreted. Some

Indians apparently believed they would lose their lands outright under the terms of the law, and indeed, there were some illegal denunciations and sales made in the months after the law was enacted. 44 More importantly, the law required the payment of a 5 percent sales tax, a fee that 124

Ocampo argued would absorb the value of the land obtained under the law, and was nevertheless impossible to pay by most of the small proprietors that the law would create. 45

Lerdo attempted to clarify matters pertaining to the small properties of the Indian pueblos in a circular in

October. He pointed out that the law did, in fact, pertain to the small landholdings, but that properties valued at under two hundred pesos would be exempted from the onerous tax. Thus the Indian who received title to land would be protected from denunciation proceedings for failure to pay the sales tax. 46 The government also attempted to nullify sales and denunciations made against the spirit of the law, in other words, those that failed to provide legal title to property for small landholders. 47

The government was clearly concerned about the percep- tion that the new law would work to the disadvantage of the peasantry. Lerdo repeated the position that the legal statutes embodied in the law were intended to make the land productive and to help the "most destitute classes," espe- cially the Indians. 48 In effecting these measures, the government was "simultaneously interested [in] the public peace, the well-being of the needy classes, and the achieve- ment and development of rules dictated for mobilizing prop- erty." 49 Lerdo' s sentiments were shared by many of the

Liberal leaders of the country, including President

Comonfort and the party newspapers. 50 125

Most importantly, the law provided for a land base for

the Indian pueblos in the form of the fundo legal and the

ejido. Article Eight states that "of the properties per-

taining to the town councils, they are excepted [from alien-

ation] the buildings, ejidos, and lands destined exclusively

to public service of the populations to which they

pertain." 51 The clause would seem to have conferred both

legal status and communal resources for the pueblos, long

sanctioned in Spanish law. The fundo legal included only the extent of property that was occupied by public facili- ties, such as the municipal building, the plaza, and the

streets of the village. It was not a specified size, unlike

in Spanish law that had decreed five-hundred varas in each direction, but was to be determined by local authorities who

"better than anyone can know which lands are to be assigned

exclusively for public service." 52 Villages also routinely used communal monte for collection, especially of wood, and the Reforma government ruled that such lands, unless rented out, should be divided among the possessors. Standing water within the boundaries of a tract were to be adjudicated along with the land, but flowing water used by the public was exempted."

Beyond these communally-used lands were those appor- tioned to individuals in usufruct, the tierras de repartimiento of the colonial period, now most often simply

called terrenos de los indigenas . As noted previously, 126 these lands were already apportioned to individuals, al- though no rents were paid and ownership remained vested in the community. The law and its rules did not specify how such lands would be valued, only that the it would be based on the rent currently paid. 54 Presumably, indigenous usu- fructarios would receive a tract without cost, unless it was valued at more than two hundred pesos. It is clear that, at first, the Mexican government expected these lands to be distributed under the tenets of the new land laws." Then in a ruling issued in November, the government declared that the indigenas of San Francisco Tepeji del Rio in Puebla were entitled to retain the terrenos de repartimiento that they had possessed "since time immemorial." In other words, they acknowledged the de facto possession of the apportioned land by the Indians, declaring them the owners "in absolute property," and thus prevented the denunciation and sale of such lands. 56 More importantly for the Tarascans, the gov- ernment responded to Michoacan state officials specifically that lands pertaining to the Indian communities there, but not rented out, should be divided among the Indians under the terms of the current legislation and decrees. 57

In February of 1857, the principles guiding the liberal measures of the Reforma were embodied in a new constitution for the Mexican republic. Although the document was less radical than some members of the government had hoped, it did encompass the Ley Lerdo's provisions eliminating the 127

rights of civil corporations to acquire or administer land. 58

More importantly, the Constitution of 1857 did not include

the provision of the law that had exempted village communal

land from private distribution. 59 Depending on its interpre-

tation, the constitution authorized all land administered by

civil corporations to be divided among residents as private

property, excepting only the public areas as defined in

Lerdo's resolution of November 13, 1856. Why the ejido

provision was left out of the Constitution is not clear. It

can be speculated that the doctrinaire Liberals saw the

ejido as communal ownership unacceptable in their nation of

small proprietors. Or it may be that the concept of "public

service" was sufficiently broad as to encompass lands used communally such as the ejido.

Generally, during the Reforma the government seemed to support the rights of the Indians to retain any lands that were not rented out. Although on the surface the laws and rulings offered some protection for lands from which the

Indians drew part of their subsistence, specifically the ejido, it conflicted with the measures calling for disen- tailment of lands used to provide for religious expenses.

As the citizens of San Pablo Anciano found out in September, the exemption in Article Eight did not apply to lands dedi- cated to religious expenses, " al culto del Senor de la

Eai," 60 regardless of whether they were cofradia land or not. Thus, on the one hand the government said that a 128

cofradia's forest land could be disentailed, with the group

retaining no rights to any resources of the property. 61 On

the other hand, the government ruled that the law did not

apply to waters and woodlands used by a community." In the

Tarascan villages all communal resources, and even appor-

tioned land, often were used for collection and pasturage by

the residents generally, so making a legal distinction

between "eiidos y terrenos destinados exclusivamente al

servicio publico " and other types of land was almost impos-

sible.

As with most legal approaches to social and economic

problems, the application of the Reforma land laws came down

to interpretation. National leaders, local officials, and

the peasants themselves all saw the laws in a different way

and sought to apply them for different goals. Florencia

Mallon has identified two distinct interpretations in her

study focused mainly on Puebla. The first is the "literal"

interpretation in which land is first made available "to

whoever possesses it at the time." The second "articulated

the claims of the villagers to the spirit of the 1856 law,

as represented in the clarif icatory circulars and decrees" issued by the government."

For both local officals and Indian villagers, however,

it was not simply a matter of two distinct interpretations, but a process of sorting out the contradictory and ambiguous decrees issued from Mexico City and attempting to adapt them 129

to particular conditions and needs. Officials in Michoacan

saw the problems in the strict application of the law, and

continued to seek clarification for years after the law's

promulgation. In January 1872, in response to the "multi-

tude" of denunciations, sales, and complaints pertaining to

lands and farms in his district, the prefect of Uruapan

asked for help. "Are the lands that the Indians possess

" 64 pro-indiviso " subject to denunciation and sale. . . ? The

Michoacan officials referred the matter to the federal

Ministry of Hacienda, which replied that the matter had

already been addressed in Lerdo's circular of October 9,

1856. The land laws, they insisted, were "highly favorable"

to the Indians, since no one had the right to acquire or

divide the lands of those who "presently possess" them. 65

Despite the government's assertions that the measures were intended to benefit the Indians, there were numerous

rural disturbances in Michoacan and other states during this

period. Indians reacted violently to the threats to their

community lands, no doubt incited by members of the clergy whose own position was being eroded by Reforma measures.

Uprisings were especially notable and violent in the

Tarascan region of Michoacan, including the Patzcuaro basin.

In most cases, it appeared that the Indians were reacting to

assaults on land and religion, given their " vivas a la

1166 religion y mueras a la Const itucion . Indians from the pueblos of the Tarascan region attempted to take back land 130 that they believed was their own. There is a report for

1857 in which some four hundred Indians "armed with pikes, machetes, and clubs" marched on Morelia and demanded the

return of all lands taken from the Indians "since the con-

quest. 1167

The government seemed to believe that these distur-

bances were related directly to the recent land legislation,

and to abuses such as the illegal usurpations and denuncia-

tions it helped make possible. Government ministries issued

statements regarding these "disorders over possession and

ownership of land" that, they argued, not only called into

question the title to property, but attempted to claim

rights for the peasants to which they were not entitled. 68

The passions of the pueblos were inflamed by the "bad

priests" who "with their words and their example provoke the

rebellion against the supreme government ." 69 The circulars

and clarifications issued by Lerdo and other ministers

failed to halt the rebellions which continued through most

of 1857. 70

The government position notwithstanding, the Ley Lerdo

and Article 27 of the Constitution of 1857 should not be

seen as the sole cause of the disturbances of this period.

As noted above, peasant rebellions had been occurring long

before this legislation was inacted and reflected problems

in the countryside that had been around since the conquest.

Jean Meyer and Robert Knowlton have shown how the Ley Lerdo "can not have been the direct cause of the uprisings" in

southern Jalisco or in . 71 Leticia Reina provides considerable evidence of disturbances over rights to commu- nal tenure in various regions dating from a decade or more before the Reforma laws. 72 Nevertheless, Indian resistance did impede application of the Reforma measures.

Further, attempts at achieving Liberal land tenure goals on the national level was troubled by the outright opposition of the Church, the political conflicts within

Liberal ranks and with the Conservatives, and the structural

flaws of the laws themselves. On the state level, the government of Michoacan, as noted above, had been attempting to deal with the question of Indian land for decades, and had generally affirmed the right of the pueblos to retain the land base of their existence. There were many similari- ties between the state Ley de desamortizacion of 1851 and the national law of June, 1856; similarities recognized by the federal government in a resolution of December 1856. 71

State measures seemed to recognize the minimal land base of the pueblos, as indicated by a decree by state Governor

Epitacio Huerta in 1858. The state ordered that "lands granted by the Spanish government for the foundation and

maintenance of hospitals. . . be distributed among the individuals who compose the respective communities." But the same decree allowed the pueblos that lacked their full fundo legal to apply to the district officials for the 132

"lands that they lack." 74 Given that most communities al- ready occupied a certain space, the measure appears intended to recognize legally the de facto possession of the fundo

legal, suggesting the state's continued acceptance of the community's existence, while simultaneously attempting to bring about the distribution in private ownership of as much

land as possible.

The political dominance of the Liberals was cut off by the resurgence of the Conservatives and the establishment of

Maximilian's imperium in 1864. Maximilian, however, ap- proved the retention of the Reforma land measures regarding community land, and attempted to put in place his own land

laws of a decidedly Liberal character, much to the annoyance of the Catholic Church and his Conservative allies. The emperor issued three measures that addressed community lands, sometimes using language identical to that of the

Reforma laws. The first, of November 1865, spelled out the means for resolving disputes between pueblos over land and water. The law specifically granted to the communities the right to sue over usurped or disputed lands, with government officials giving possession to the litigant having the better claim. 75

The law of June 1866 provided, as had the Ley Lerdo, for the division and adjudication of terrenos de comunidad y de repartimiento . The plots farmed by individual families were to be distributed "in absolute property to its actual 133

possessors" while community lands ( propios ) would be divided in fractions, favoring "the poor to the rich, the married to the single, and those who have families to those who do not." 76 If lands were sufficient, the community was allowed to allocate up to a half caballeria to each family, or about twenty one hectares. 77 Maximillian 1 s government reiterated that "the waters and woodlands" destined exclusively for public use, the ejido and fundo legal, were exempted from distribution or adjudication. On the other hand, lands designated for "the cult of any saint" were to be distrib- uted under the terms of the law. The government ordered that the subprefects prepare a title including the recipi- ent's name, and each tract's size, borders, quality, and price, and the community to which the property pertains.

While the Reforma laws had called for a 5 percent sales tax, with an exemption for the plots under two hundred pesos in value, Maximillian asked for a 1 percent tax on all transac- tions. 78

The third measure of the Imperium was the agrarian law of September 1866 that granted the right of the pueblos to have a fundo legal and ejido. But the law specified that in order to have a fundo legal the community must have four hundred inhabitants, and for an ejido they were expected to have at least two thousand residents. Pueblos with lower populations were required "to join with another or other pueblos until fulfilling the required conditions." 79 "

134

Certainly, few Indian communities could have met the condi-

tions for both a fundo legal and an ejido; in the basin none

would have qualified for an ejido under the terms of the law

and only two or three might have had sufficient membership

to have been granted a fundo legal. 90

The Maximilian regime, of course, collapsed in mid-

1867, so the measures were never fully put into operation.

But, as Heriberto Moreno Garcia points out, the French

Intervention "played a decisive role in the strengthening of

the liberal position" 81 Maximilian's land laws would join

with the Reforma measures to provide the juridical founda-

tion upon which land legislation of the "Restored Republic"

and the Porfiriato would be based. On the other hand,

Florencia Mallon shows how Maximilian instituted the mea-

sures "to win over the poor and indigenous classes of Mexi-

can society" in the face of dwindling French support. 82

Although the policies "actually backfired, 1183 she suggests

that the liberal measures of the Reforma and the Second

Empire were responsible for "raising the hopes of villag-

ers," and contributed to the creation of "alternative na-

tional visions" that years later would be played out in

local politics, culminating in the Zapata movement.

The distribution of land called for under the Reforma

laws and those of the Second Empire had a mixed "success"

and primarily affected ecclesiastical property. Although millions of pesos worth of land changed hands during months 135

following the enactment of the Ley Lerdo, relatively little

was the property of the civil corporations. 85 In Michoacan

there was certainly no assault on communal land as suggested

by earlier studies; several decades would pass before any

widespread distribution of village land would take place.

In reviewing the Ley Lerdo, its reglamento, and the subse-

quent "clarifications" and circulars, and the decrees of

Maximilian, it becomes apparent that the liberal approach

embodied in the measures had little chance for achieving

their goals. First, the law was deeply flawed in that it

left unanswered many questions about the changes in land

tenure it sought to accomplish. Second, it came during a

time when there was already considerable rural unrest over

land issues. Third, neither the Liberals nor Maximilian's

government were in power long enough to make the system

work. If the Reforma sounded the "death knell" of communal

landholding, it was as the beginning of a long-term process

of change in attitude toward the Indian communities rather

than as a direct attack on the village.

It is clear, then, that despite considerable interest

in land tenure little changed in the pueblos of Michoacan.

Indeed, other studies have shown that the liberal measures

before the late 1860s were not a "fundamental point of

departure" for land tenure in other regions as well. 36 By

the end of the 1860s there was considerable land in

Michoacan that remained under the control of the villages. 136

An 1869 report places the value of community land that had not yet been distributed at nearly two million pesos. 87

Within the Patzcuaro basin, the documentary record shows that the communities retained lands until the repartos began in earnest at the end of the decade. A state government report of 1908 shows that of the 138 pueblos that had veri- fied the repartos of their lands, only twenty five (18 percent) had been conducted before 1869, and only one or two of those were within the Patzcuaro basin. 88

Extinguishing the community

The national government of the Restored Republic re- mained focussed on the disentailment of ecclesiastical property, leaving the issue of the civil corporations to the states. Under the subseguent administration of Porfirio

Diaz, the national government also moved away from the disentailment of community lands and the creation of a nation of small property owners to an approach based on the

appropriation of "unclaimed lands" ( baldios ) and the favor- ing of large property interests. 89 During the Porfirato, vast expanses of land were surveyed by private companies, which would receive one-third of the land they identified as unclaimed. Although the idea had been to sell this land to

European colonists, most ended up in the hands of large landholders. 90

The national-level land laws after 1867 had little direct effect in the basin, other than promoting the idea that baldios and "excess" lands f demaslas and excedenr.ias ^ were subject to denunciation or distribution. The various laws concerning terrenos baldios , from those of Juarez through the Porfiriato, continued the position that pre- served as indivisible lands that were destined for public use; none suggested the outright disentailment of the ejido or fundo legal. As will be discussed in the next chapter, however, fear of denunciation no doubt was behind the will- ingness of many individuals to have land formally titled under the reparto laws. Under the federal "Law concerning the occupation and alienation of terrenos baldios" of 1894, lands could be denounced as baldios if they had not been destined for public use or titled to an individual or autho- rized corporation. The law also allowed denunciation of any lands found to be occupied in excess of that which is speci- fied in the title granted, which, in many cases, were impre- cise. 91

Porfirio Diaz also fomented a great expansion of the nation's railroads, including an important line that greatly strengthened the Lake Patzcuaro region's connections with the outside world." The primary result of the arrival of the railroad, and the lake steamship, was to increase inter- est in lake area forest resources. Since, as noted previ- ously, the area was not appropriate for large, commerical haciendas, the new railroad had little effect on land tenure in the basin." The railroad line pushed on toward Uruapan "

138 and the tierra caliente with their commercial agricultural lands.

Nevertheless, the process of changing the land tenure system took a dramatic turn with the idea that the Indian communities could be legally extinguished. Although none of the national measures since Independence had called for such a step, and in fact had always acknowledged the pueblos' existence, the state government after 1867 found justifica- tion for this new approach in the Ley Lerdo and the Consti- tution of 1857. The key tenet was the element of the land law and the constitution that denied to civil corporations the right to own or administer lands. If they had no such rights under the law, then all community lands would have to be adjudicated as private property or denounced as baldios.

In other words, the government acknowledged that the main barrier to their goal of privatization was the community, with its long-held rights to lands in its vicinity.

In 1868 the governor complained that "those peculiar gatherings, that go by the name of communities, do not serve more than to maintain ignorance, misery, fanticism, and degradation." 94 From this point, government documents rou-

" tinely refer to the Indian pueblos as ex-comunidades ,

"extinauida comunidad " r or similar usage. The official policy stated that,

The communities of Indians organized in conformance with the ancient Spanish laws, do not exist today, in that form, and only should be considered as aggrega-

tions of individuals who possess interests in common . ,

139

According to the active legislation, no society or corporation has juridical entity, if it is not legally authorized. 95

The government seemed to believe, then, that having interests " en comun " was insufficient for considering a group of people as a community. Officials recognized a basic social criteria for the existence of a community, but reguired nevertheless a formal, juridical existance based on the legal ability to own and administer lands as a commu- nity. The pueblos were merely geographical expressions of population patterns with coincidental needs and concerns, but they did not have a legal share, right, or title in the ownership of property. This attitude formed the basis for a reintensif ied effort to bring about the distribution in private ownership the land held by the villages. From 1869 until after the turn of the century, the pueblos were under constant pressure to divide their lands among private own-

96 ers .

The approach of the Michoacan state government re- flected the doctrinaire views of the earlier Liberals who had long assailed the primacy of the community. It should be recalled that in the wake of Independence, Mora and others rejected community and priviledged individuality. In this formulation, society must be purged of loyalties to traditional corporate structures such as the church and

Indian communities in favor of the secular nation. Charles

Hale notes how, in the Restored Republic and subseguently 140 liberalism in Mexico "became transformed from an ideology in combat with an inherited set of institutions, social ar- rangements, and values into a unifying myth." 97 In

Michoacan, officials attempted to win the battle finally with some of these traditional elements of society by le- gally eliminating their foundation.

In February 1868 the state announced a tax on all community lands that had not yet been distributed, giving the pueblos six months to complete their reparto. Pueblos would be exempt from land taxes for six years once the reparto was undertaken. By December, state officials ap- peared dissatisfied with the progress of the distribution; a circular noted that the repartos cannot be avoided and, in fact, should have already taken place. Nevertheless, within a year or two repartos were under way all over the state of

Michoacan. Over the next thirty years or so, the state government would continue their attempts to carry out the private distribution of community land, with varying levels of intensity and success. 98

In 1902 it issued the " Ley y reglamento sobre reparto de bienes de las extinguidas comunidades de indiaenas that brought together many of the ideas from previous legal measures, as well as adding some tenets of its own. This new law specified the manner in which all community lands, including the ejido and fundo legal, could be distributed as private property. Communities were allowed to keep the 141

"space necessary" for communal use, including waters

strictly for the residents and their domestic livestock, a

nine-hectare plot surrounding the water sources, and a tract

of an size, "that would be convenient" for the village's

communal forests. Tracts of not less than one hectare from

the ejido would be allocated to the landless poor of the

community, and the fundo legal would be divided into house

lots not to exceed 625 square meters. The 1902 law differed

from state measures before the Reform in that it did not

specifically preserve the basis of the Indian community. As

Moises Franco Mendoza suggests, the new approach seems to

reflect a strict reading of the Ley Lerdo and Article 27 of

the Contstitution of 1857 that stated that civil corpora-

tions did not have the right to own and administer lands.

It went further, however, in that it singled out the commu-

nity's land base for distribution, justified by the notion

that lands were held in excess of needs, as suggested by the

legislation concerning terrenos baldios."

Thus, by 1902 the legal measures were in place that provided for the elimination of the Indian communities, their legal standing as well as the traditional foundation of their subsistence. Many of these "extinguished communi- ties" that had not yet divided their lands did so after this law was put in place, and those that had previously privat-

ized the tierras de repartimiento turned their attention to communal woods and pastures. Generally speaking, the ,

142 repartos became necessary after 1869 because the communities recognized that it was the only way to protect their access to essential resources. Failing to distribute land meant the imposition of an onerous tax and/or the denunciation and sale of the land. In the next chapter we will examine in greater detail how the process of distributing land to individuals was carried out and the conflicts that resulted.

Notes

'Brian R. Hamnett, "Liberalism Divided: Regional Poli- tics and the National Project During the Mexican Restored Republic, 1867-1876," Hispanic American Historical Review 76:4 (1996), 659.

2 Hale points out that Bourbon policy on land use, including its distribution to private owners, was brought to New Spain in the 1780s. The Ordinance of Intendants called for the allotment of communal lands "in pieces suitable of ground suitable for married Indians." [Hale, Mora , 225]

3 Charles A. Hale, Mexican Liberalism in the Aae of Mora, 1821-1853 (New Haven: Yale University Press, 1968) 227.

5 Ibid, 221.

'Charles A. Hale, The Transformation of Liberalism in the Late Nineteenth Century (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1989), 220.

7 Hale, Mexican Liberalism, 178.

"Gerardo Sanchez Diaz , El Suroeste de Michoacan: Economia y Sociedad, 1852-1910 (Morel ia: Universidad Michoacana, 1979), 24.

9 Hale, Mexican Liberalism , 229.

"Lillian Estelle Fisher, Champion of Reform: Manuel Abad y Oueipo (New York: Library Publishers, 1955), 71-73; 84-85. 143

u Ibid, 71; Moises Franco Mendoza, "La Desamortizacion de Bienes de Comunidades Indigenas en Michoacan," in La

Sociedad Indiaena en el Centro y Occidente de Mexico , ed. Pedro Carrasco (Zamora: El Colegio de Michoacan, 1986), 169.

12 Francisco Gonzalez de Cossio, ed. , Legislacion Indigenista de Mexico (Mexico: Instituto Indigenista Inter- americano, 1958), 24; cited below as LI .

n Ibid, 27.

14 In Spain this policy was envisioned by Gaspar Melchor de Jovellanos in his "Informe de ley agraria" as a way to Liberalism 177. regenerate agriculture; Hale, Mexican r

15Wistano Luis Orozco, Legislacion y Jurisprudencia sobre Terrenos Baldios (Mexico: Imprenta de El Tiempo, 1895), 107.

16Mendoza, 172.

i7 LI, 25.

18 Lucio Mendieta y Nunez, El Problema Aarario de Mexico (Mexico: Secretaria de Economia, 1956) , 91-96.

19 Hale, Mexican Liberalism . 180; Orozco, 188-241.

:o Hale, Mexican Liberalism, 232.

:i Hamnett, 661.

"Donald J. Fraser points out a number of states that enacted anticommunal laws of various types in the late 1820s. He notes that most only ordered the division of the propios and terrenos de repartimiento leaving the ejido and fundo legal intact. In Puebla, Sonora, Sinoloa, and Zacatecas, however, state laws called for the total division of communal lands including the fundo legal ; Donald John Fraser, "La Politica de Desamortizacion en las Comunidades Indigenas," Historia Mexicana 84 (1972), 623.

23 Mendoza, 173.

2, Hale, Mexican Liberalism , 222; Moises Gonzalez Navarro, Anatomia del Poder en Mexico 1848-1853 f (Mexico: El Colegio de Mexico, 1977), 143; Hale notes that Mora rejected ideas about the preservation of the core of the community and "said that all communal property should be lumped to- gether." Others, however, argued that "it was indispensable that the ayuntamientos have some [property]." (231) . ,

144

"Lejarza, 7.

26Mendoza, 174-175.

27 Gerardo Sanchez Diaz, "Los Vaivenes del Proyecto , " Michoacan ed. Enrique Republ icano in Historia General de f Florescano (Morelia: Instituto Michoacano de Cultura, 1989) 5; Sanchez D. (1988), 22.

28 Mendoza, 175-176.

29 See Vincent C. Peloso and Barbara A. Tenenbaum, Liber- als, Politics, and Power: State Formation in Nineteenth- Century Latin America (Athens, GA: University of Georgia Press, 1996), 1-7, for a brief discussion of the debate over the application of liberal ideas in Latin America; David Bushnell, "Assessing the Legacy of Liberalism," in ibid, 278-300, for a recent bibliographic essay on the topic.

30 Sanchez D. (1988), 52-56.

"Gonzalez N. , 143

32 Ibid.

"Ibid, 144.

34 Sanchez D. (1988) , 24.

35LI, 33.

36 Hale, Mexican Liberalism , 237.

"Ibid, 238.

"Decreto del gobierno. Sobre desamortizacion de fincas rusticas y urbanas que administren como propietarios las corporaciones civiles 6 eclesiasticas de la Republica, Junio 25 de 1856, in Manuel Dublan y Jose Maria Lozano, Legis- lacion Mexicana (Mexico: Dublan y Chavez, 1877) ; cited below as LM .

39Mendieta y Nunez, 111.

40 LM, 197-201.

<'Ibid, 197.

42 Ibid.

"Ibid, 200. "

145

"T.G. Powell, El Liberalising y el Campesinado en el Centro de Mexico: 1850-1876 (Mexico: Secretaria de Educacion Publica, 77-78; Charles Berry, The Reform in Qaxaca 1974), r 1856-76: A Microhistory of the Liberal Revolution (Lincoln, NE: University of Nebraska Press, 1981), 180; Jesus Silva Herzog, El Aararismo Mexicano y Aararia: Exposicion y Critica (Mexico: Fondo de Cultura Economica, 1959), 91.

45Melchor Ocampo, Obras Completas (Mexico: Ediciones El Caballito, 1978), 179.

46LI, 51.

47 Ibid, 50.

48 LH, 264.

49 Ibid, 265, 270.

"Robert J. Knowlton, "La Individualizacion de la Propiedad Corporativa Civil en el Siglo XIX: Notas sobre Jalisco," Historia Mexicana 109:1 (1978), 25.

51 LM, 198.

"Luis Labastida, Coleccion de Leyes. Decretos. Reala- mentos Circula res. Ordenes Acuerods Relativos a la Desa- r y mortizacion de l os Bienes de Corporaciones Civiles y Religionas y a La Nacionalizacion de los que Administraron las Ultimas (Mexico: Tip. de la Oficina Impresora de Estampillas, 1893), 28.

"Ibid, 28, 50, 23.

MLH, 197.

"Ibid, 212.

"£L, 28.

"Ibid, 29.

58 Knowlton, "La Individualizacion," 47.

"In the law of June 25, 1856, Article Eight excepted "los edificios, ejidos y terrenos destinados exclusivamente al servicio publico de las poblaciones a que pertenezcan. When the Constitution was promulgated, however, the clause was carried in Article 27 over without the words "ejidos y terrenos"; LH, 387. 146

60£L, 18.

"The government ruled that a cofradia could not retain rights to wood on adjudicated property; LH, 23 0. In another case it was ruled that cofradia land, and the its cattle, must be divided among the indigenas living on the property; W, 324.

62 LM, 234.

"See Florencia E. Mallon, Peasant and Nation: The Making of Postcolonial Mexico and Peru (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1995) , 100. Mallon defines ejido as "collective communal property that was legally untouchable under the terms of the Land Law enacted 25 June 1856;" Mallon, 117. She does not mention, however, that Article 27 of the Constitution failed to include the ejido in the lands covered by the land laws. Further, suggesting that these laws (or perhaps any laws) could be interpreted "literally" is something of an oxymoron. The interested parties inter- preted the laws as either threats or opportunities, and reacted to them on that basis.

64 AHPEM, Morelia, 21:53-127.

"Ibid.

-Powell, El Liberalismo . 87.

67 Leticia Reina, Las Rebe l iones Campesinas en Mexico. 1819-1906 (Mexico: Siglo Vientiuno, 1980), 181.

68 LH, 246.

69 Ibid, 263.

70 Jean Meyer, Problema s Campesinos y Revultas Aararias. 1821-1910 (Mexico: Secretaria de Educacion Publica, 1973), 16.

71 Jean Meyer, "La Ley Lerdo y la Desamortizacion de las Comunidades en Jalisco," in La Sociedad Indigena en el Centro y Occidente de Mexico ed. Pedro Carrasco (Zamora: El Colegio de Michoacan, 1986), 210; Knowlton, "La Indivi- dualizacion, " 33.

72 Reina, passim .

73 £L, 29. "

147

^Decree of El. C. Gen. Epitacio Huerta, " encargado del mando supremo del Estado de Michoacan. 22 Dec. 1858 . from r LDS film "Decretos Civiles."

75LI, 70; For more on the relationship between Maximilian and the peasantry see Powell, El Liberal ismo r 101-127. For a case of a community using the measure per- taining to land and water disputes see Mallon, 170-171.

76LI, 72.

"This seems extremely generous by the standards of the Reforma measures. There were certainly no communities in the basin that had sufficient property, outside the ejido, to grant to its members a tract or tracts of such size.

78 LX, 72.

7, Ibid, 75.

80 Quiroga, Santa Fe de la Laguna, and Tzintzuntzan might have qualified for a fundo legal under the law depending upon the way the census was conducted. If only indigenas were counted it is unlikely that any of the colonial-era pueblos would have had sufficient numbers for their own fundo legal.

"Heriberto Moreno Garcia, "Un Documento sobre las Comunidades Indigenas del Distrito de Zamora durante el Segundo Emperio," in La Sociedad Indigena en el Centro y Occidente de Mexico ed. Pedro Carrasco (Zamora: El Colegio de Michoacan, 1986), 213.

82 Mallon, 172.

"Ibid, 174.

8, Ibid, 175.

85 Even the alienation of church wealth in the early Reforma has been questioned. Margaret Chowning argues that the "Liberal threat was a more or less constant factor from the late 1820s," and sales of church property had been accelerating since the mid-1840s. She attributes much of the divestiture of ecclesiastical real estate to "buoyant real estate markets" and efforts to convern rental income into mortgages. Church property aliented in the twenty-five years after the Reforma was "considerably less" than prop- erty sold before 1856. See Margaret Chowning, "The Manage- ment of Church Wealth in Michoacan, Mexico, 1810-1856: Economic Motivations and Political Implications," Journal of Latin American Studies 22, 489-490. 148

, 33. 96 See Knowlton, "La Individual izacion "

"Sanchez D. (1988) , 27.

del EafcadO de MHflpfcigjj Hp. Iqs puehlQg dp indigent 32:28-33, i908. conforms a la lev ." ahpem, Moreiia, asaa Tzentzenguaro having been > report shows the lands of . small barrio of itributed "desde tiempo inmemorial " The Cerro Colorado in Izcuaro San Agustin divided lands of the 51; AHPEM, Patzcuaro, 7:31-34.

"Hale, Transformation. 253.

to any -The saapaniaa desl indadoras did not °Pe a^ RobertJ Holden in The. »at extent in Michoacan, according to for denouncing rvev, passim. The procedures established not to any IdiSs was used frequently in the state, but 31 Oct. eat extent in the basin. See ppriodir.o OflC i a l of a 770 nect- 95 p. 8, for an example of a denunciation The lands denounced e tract to the east of Patzcuaro. known by the names of 'Tprro de la Nieve," "ColrajUa, re " " coi ones :" they bordered the t Te rras de I qs d IflB " i " and with lop parc j onerps de ^ rfana c Tar.ambaro colomza- " For further discussion of the laws of anaio Nunez, orTand those concerning baldios see Mendieta y 111-121. apters Four and Five, and Silva Herzog,

91 Orozco, 345-346. Chapter Three. "See the discussion of the railroad in

and Macaulay note that elsewhere in the "Bushnell and along the railroads became more valuable, >untrv "land commu- pressures for the disentailment of the remaining ie Bushnell and Neill il holdings mounted." See David in thfl- Nineteenth lC auiay, Tn~ Bngrgfinsfl of T,atin ftnfirisa University Press, 1988), 208. >n£liry. (New York: Oxford

"Sanchez D. (1988) , 26.

95 #113, Sept. 1877. AHPEM , Moreiia, Circular

''Sanchez D. (1988) , 27.

91 Hale, Tmn* fnrmation. 3.

"Sanchez D. (1988) , 26. 149

"See AHPEM, Morel ia, 20:294, " Circular No. 23. sobre la manera de extinquir las comunidades de indlgenas, no repartidas y modo de efectuar la circunvalacion de la propieflafl rustics en Michoacan. Ano 19Q2." CHAPTER 5

THE REPARTOS AND THE VILLAGES

As noted in the last chapter, most of the repartos de

tierras in Michoacan took place between 1869 and 1910. The

distribution of village lands to private owners was a com-

plex, conflict-laden process that for many communities

proceeded slowly and unevenly, and often left unresolved the

property rights problems the government measures addressed.

In the Patzcuaro basin traditional forms of tenure persisted

along side "modern" forms, and boundaries between individual

and group landholdings were often imprecise in a legal

sense. Villages continued to allocate resources and claim

rights to property while the state imposed structures that

sought to reduce or eliminate community control.

Consequently , various tracts of a particular commu-

nity's land were divided at different times and among vari-

ous groups and individuals. Sometimes whole communities

sought to divide all their land as a village, while in other

cases, small groups within the village asked for a reparto of specific tracts. This chapter explores the process by which land distribution was carried out at the local level, and how property rights were contested during the period in which most of the repartos were carried out.

150 151

The Process of Distributing Property

The process of dividing community land among village members typically began with the naming of individuals to represent the pueblo in its dealings on the matter. The representante was to be trustworthy and "should know how to read and write" in Spanish. 1 Although the latter condition was always met, it appears that the trust placed in the hands of the representative was often misplaced. Given the extent of indigenous monolingual ism that remained in the basin pueblos in the late nineteenth century, it is not surprising that the representatives of the Indians were often mestizo or Creole elites who did not live in the community. How the representatives were selected is not entirely clear from the documents, but it seems likely that they were chosen by the village leadership. There are no recorded votes on the choosing of the representatives as there are for other issues. There is some indication that individuals sought to establish themselves as representa- tives for more than one village. A man named Bruno Patino served as the representative for various communities in the basin, as well as in other areas of the Tarascan zone of

Michoacan. The documents reveal no serious complaints about

Patino, unlike many other representatives, so it would seem that he did his job adequately.

The representatives were compensated for their time by the village undergoing the reparto. The 3 51 parcioneros of 152

Tzirondaro paid a total of 102 pesos, twelve centavos for

preparing the reparto and filing the necessary papers with

the government; another group later paid twenty-five centa-

vos each. 2 Santa Fe de la Laguna 1 s reparto cost a total of

$1,100, divided among the village's 562 parcioneros "in

proportion to the quantity of land that each one

possesses. 113 Rather than being interested community mem-

bers, it seems that at least some of the representatives,

such as Patiho, were professionals, probably lawyers.

Once a representative was agreed upon, he formally

petitioned the government for permission to undertake the

reparto of the village land. A census of village residents,

or padron , was prepared. For smaller pueblos it might be a

simple list of names or for larger groups lengthy descrip-

tions of properties already distributed to families in the

form of tierras de repart imiento . The padron general

spelled out who "has right to the lands distributed," and was made available for verification by the community. In

Tzintzuntzan a padron was drawn up that listed 244 villagers who were entitled to a plot of land from the community's

territory. The village claimed some 1,267 almuds of land,

or about 375 hectares in five distinct areas." Apparently

it took two or three years for the census to be accepted by

the villagers; once approved, the distribution proceeded

slowly over the next few years. 5

It was common for there to be a separate list of family 153

heads who had no land at the time of the reparto, or who

were not present when the original reparto was conducted.

There were several hundred parcioneros in San Geronimo

Purenchecuaro 1 s original reparto, but an additional twenty-

seven turned up a few years later seeking to be included in the village's land distribution. 6 The reparto for

Tzintzuntzan was complicated by the fact that the padron conducted several years earlier included village members who had since left the community. The community set about creating a new census based on the membership of those who remained in the village. 7

A comision repartidora was established for the commu- nity to measure tracts and establish the borders for the allocated plots. This commission was chosen in similar fashion to the representante, who was typically a member of the commission along with two others. As was the case for many villages, Tzentzenguaro selected two members from the community and a third from Patzcuaro, the latter no doubt bilingual and familial with the Mexican land laws. 3 As prescribed in state law, the reparto commissioners gathered the parcioneros in the village sguare to conduct the formal- ities of the land distribution. The 356 citizens of San

Andres Zirondaro thus gathered in the afternoon of July 4, 1902 "with the object of dividing the land" and proceeded

"by common agreement" to measure into lots the community's land. 9 At Santa Fe de la Laguna, the villagers were called ; "

154 to the square by "the ringing of the bell" on May 13, 1901 where they voted by name on the proposed reparto. 10

For their part, the government had certain requirements for the proper execution of a reparto, as expressed in a letter regarding the village of Puacuaro. The reparto would be approved if the following conditions were met.

1. If the indigenas of the cited pueblo possess qui- etly and peacefully the lands to be distributed; 2. If property titles exist in favor of the indigenas, titles that show clearly that the cited indigenas are owners of the said lands 3. If the owners of the bordering lands are in agree- ment with the dividing lines that the pueblo of Puacuaro recognizes; 4. In case of there being differences in borders among the indigenas and the adjacent owners, if it would be possible to arrive at an a conventional agreement, with the intervention of the government, to fix the borders of the lands of the pueblo; 5. What is the approximate extension of the lands to be distributed, and how many there are; 6. If there does not exist in fact a reparto of the same lands, or they are found actually indivisible and possessed in common. 11 The system for establishing the individual plots gener- ally relied on metes and bounds, often with an initial reference to a village location or place name, and the size of the tract. A typical legal description for a distributed plot, in this case from Santa Fe de Laguna, would be,

On the "Plain of Huarapo" [Apolinar Luz] possesses a plot of " dos cuarterones y medio de temporal de sembra-

dura de maiz , having as its borders: to the East with

lands of Jacinto Gabriel ; to the North with those of Ysabel Medina, equal division; to the West with those of Pedro Ferritin, equal division; to the South limited by the Lake. 12

" The repartos generally referred to terrenos ,

" " tierras , " or bienes " of the indigenas or pueblo, but 155

frequently specified certain types of lands. Communities

often asked that hills (cerros) be divided, usually refer-

ring to a specific name such as Quiroga 1 s "Cerro de la Mina"

or San Agustin's "Cerro Colorado." 13 Nonagricultural lands

" f montes ) were commonly mentioned, as in los montes que

M1< poseen indivisos , and pasture lands were singled out as

well. 15 On several occasions pueblos asked that badlands

(malpais) be distribed among community members, as did the

16 barrio of Patzcuaro, San Francisco, in 1893 . Communities sought distribution of terrenos montanosos , swampland

(cienaga) , terrenos de siembra de triao y de maiz and lots

( solares ) . The solares were often mentioned when the commu-

nity sought to distribute its fundo legal, and their small

size indicates their use as house lots. The variety of land

referred to makes it clear that Indians sought to retain

access to property that had been traditionally for nonagri-

cultural use, as well as the farm plots that had been as-

signed through the village property system.

The comisidn repartidora determined the value of the tracts distributed, usually expressed broadly as first,

second, or third class in terms of its productivity, and more specifically in currency. In the legal description cited above, for Apolinar Luz's tract, the value was estab-

lished as sixty-two pe_£££, fifty centavos . Another tract in

Santa Fe was valued at sixty pesos even though it was con- siderably larger, four cuarterones to Luz's two and a half. 1 156

Values were established for tax purposes on all lands in- cluding those that had not been distributed, which after

1868 made them subject to state taxes. From time to time communities disputed the amount established by the state, arguing that the lands were poor or insufficient for the subsistence of the residents. 18

The measurement and distribution of village lands were carried out in different ways by the various pueblos of the

Patzcuaro basin. As the residents of Tzentzenguaro pointed out, it was not always possible to "comply strictly with the formalities of the law." 19 Some repartos were based on a standard land value with tract sizes varying from parcionero to parcionero. In other cases, some parcioneros received multiple tracts at various locations within the village's territory. The north shore village of Tzirondaro distrib- uted tracts of precisely the same size to all resident families during a distribution in 1903. 20 San Augustin, a barrio of Patzcuaro, distributed its lands in March of 1868, and the tracts of all forty-six parcioneros were valued at five pesos, even though the sizes varied from one thousand

21 to 7,500 varas cuadradas . In this village the lands were measured out in sguare tracts of specific dimensions.

Nearly half of the villagers received plots three hundred by twenty- five varas.

In Quiroga's distribution some 131 villagers were identified as being entitled to tracts of the community's 157 land. The lands were distributed in sizes varying from an individual solar for a house, to several tracts for a single family. Transito Peha received a house lot worth a mere

$4.50, while Apolinar Flores obtained five tracts valued at a total of $41.24. Pena was unusual, however, since most of the families received property of at least one-third hect- are, and most received more. The Flores property included

three tracts of one almud each, one of a half cuartilla , and

one of a cuarteron , for a total of about one and a half hectares of land. There does not appear to be any attempt to value the land in terms of agricultural quality; all tracts of one almud, for example, were appraised at $8.25.

It may be that the land distribution in this community was not as inequitable as it seems from the list of tract val- ues, since the amount in pesos is a reflection only of size.

Communities with sufficient land appear to have at- tempted to distribute tracts such that each family received a solar for their house in the fundo legal as well as one or more plots of farm land. Tzentzenguaro, on the southern shore of the lake, distributed three tracts to most of its members: two agricultural plots of three cuarterones (to- talling just under one hectare) and a small house lot was the typical apportionment. 22 At San Bartolo Pareo most of the parcioneros received four tracts of land, although a few received a single plot or as many as eight. The properties of all the parcioneros were scattered in various sites 158 around the community, with names such as "El Llano de la

Virgen," "El Potrero de Afuera," "La Yacata," or

"Tinguintzinaro, " as well as their house lot in the village proper. Some of the tracts were only a few hundred square meters, but several were relatively large— over four hect- ares. Apolino Alvarez received four tracts ranging in size from 480 square meters to 2,646 square meters for a total of just over one-half hectare. Jose Encarnacion de la Cruz, on the other hand, was alloted a total of nearly four hectares in five separate tracts. Unlike Quiroga, however, all tracts were valued at ten pesos regardless of their size.

The logic behind these distributions is difficult to determine, if indeed there was any logic at all. It is possible that a quarter-hectare tract of highly-productive alluvial land on the lakeshore was worth the same as several hectares of malpais, thus accounting for appraisals in which individuals received tracts of widely differing size.- 3 Or it may be a function of village hierarchy, with well-con- nected elites receiving the favored tracts, while the less- prominent families were given poorer land. Surprisingly, there were no references in the documents to complaints by individuals who felt that the reparto itself was unequita- ble, although there were many complaints of a different nature as will be seen in the next chapter. We can surmise that the distribution of the lands the Indians were well- accustomed to using, that they already perceived as their 159 own, were the least contentious. Thus the distribution tierras de repartimiento and the fundo legal probably went reasonably well. The division of communal monte or ejido land, however, was more difficult for the commissioners since that land had been used communally and its distribu- tion in severalty brought the more radical change in its tenure. The next chapter looks more closely at how this constituted a change in the ecology of the zone.

It does not appear that individual titles to the dis- tributed tracts were issued routinely to the recipients.

Occasionally, a village resident sought and received spe- cific documentation of his or her ownership, but generally the only printed record of title was contained in the aggre- gate listing of distributed tracts or padrdn for the vil- lage. Years later, when the owner sought to sell the tract or during some litigation, it would be noted that the land

was without title ( sin titulo ) , but that it had been dis- tributed in an earlier reparto. For example, when in 1887 the children of Don Mauricio Garcia sold the land they inherited from their father they pointed out that he had

"acquired it in the reparto de bienes of the community as an indigena of the pueblo de Erongaricuaro and by means of such acquisition they have possessed it and [are] free of all responsibility to sell it with its uses, customs, rights,

*' 24 and services . . . Similarly, the sisters Cornelia and

Francisca Elias acquired their fifteen cuarteron tract "by 160

inheritance of their late father Ygnacio Ellas who . . .

acquired it as a participant in the extinguished community."

The documents of the repartos provided strong evidence of

ownership, without which "our property will be exposed. .

.to a denunciation," as the indigenas of Arocutin noted in

1895." At the same time, the reparto documents made it

possible for families to sell their lands once ownership had

been established legally, as the above example illustrates.

The state established a section in the Archivo General

y Publico for collecting and maintaining these records. The

documents were assembled into the Libros de Hijuelas which

citizens could consult to establish their rights to prop-

erty. The villagers acknowledged that the their title to

land did not exist in law, but the books of hiiuelas pro- vided the written documentation of their claims. 26 For example, Manuel Higinio of San Andres Zirondaro asked that his ownership "without title" of a tract be acknowledged in writing by the state in 1902. The municipal president attested to his "quiet and peaceful possession" of the land for more than twenty years. The documents were bound into a book along with other such claims and requests to form the village's libro de hijuela .- 7 Villagers could also use the documentation in the book to provide proof of ownership during a sales transaction or when the land was involved in some litigation. Candelaria Chico of Purenchecuro com- plained that her son-in-law had sold land that she possessed 161

"as a parcionera of the excommunity . " A government official

reviewed the hijuelas and determined that, indeed, the woman was the owner of the land in question, and that it could not be alienated by the son-in-law. 28

Because the effective adjudication of village lands was

in most cases a complicated, and sometimes impossible, task, communities on occasion had to ask for time extensions to complete their repartos. 29 Some repartos appeared to be completed in a relatively short period of time, while others dragged on for decades or were, in fact, not completed before the Revolution of 1910. 30 For example, the reparto for the pueblo Cucuchucho was completed within a year of the new tax measure, while Huecorio's reparto would only come two decades later. 31 Ihuatzio's official reparto date was listed by the government as 1878, but records show that the community was still wrestling with nearby Tzintzuntzan over lands after the turn of the century. 32 Tzintzuntzan required at least a decade to complete the reparto of the bulk of its land, but an official government report of 1908 does not list the community as having a verified reparto as of that year. 33 As will be discussed below, the difficulties in completing the repartos resulted from bureaucratic ineffi- ciency, disputes among the parcioneros, and conflicts be- tween villages over lands each claimed.

Tax collection further complicated the process of distributing the land to private owners. Punitive taxes 162 were imposed by the state of Michoacan on the undistributed

land of communities, and federal property taxes were eventu-

3 ally required from the new landowners. ' Thus we see fre- quent requests for exemptions and extensions for payment in the documentary record. Among other reasons, communities blamed their failure to pay the tax on poverty, which in all liklihood became more serious in the basin across the nine- teenth century- In the 1870s and 1880s both Tzirondaro and

Purenchecuaro appealed for tax exemptions due to financial hardship. Tzirondaro, self-described as "one of the most miserable pueblos" in the district, complained that their only source of income was from fishing and the making of

petates , which scarcely provided for "the subsistence of their families." 35 Although the government on occasion granted the requested exemptions or extensions, they also at times placed liens on community property, imposed fines, or continued to demand payment. Tzintzuntzan requested an exemption in 1876, but a treasury official found that the village "is solvent and therefore can pay the debt." 36

Redefining the Property Regime

When the repartos got under way actively in the half century before the Revolution, issues of sovereignty and ownership became critically important in the basin property regime. Sovereignty, how a community conceived of its property vis-a-vis other entities, became intimately con- nected to the relationship been the state and the local 163

property rights structures since the government was often

called upon to mediate disputes between villages. Individ-

ual ownership, on the other hand, was to a greater extent an

internal matter of the villages, and relied on community

recognition prior to that of any higher-level authorities.

The perception of sovereignty and ownership was central to

the way property rights were defined by the individual, the

village, and the state. In large measure, the definition of

property rights formed the basis for the control over re-

sources exercised at these three levels.

Despite the legal advantages of distributing community

lands under the reparto laws, some pueblos chose to maintain

their ties to the land in the old way, even though the state

government reguired the payment of the tax on undivided

property. Thus we see the reguests for exemptions and other

cases in which villages resisted undergoing the formalities

of a reparto entirely. More than simply resistance to

change, there often was a fundamental difference in percep-

tion of land tenure between the pueblo and the state.

A good example of this change can be seen in the termi-

nology used to classify lands." Many of the earlier re-

corded descriptions characterized land in terms of its use

and its natural features. The legal descriptions of prop-

erty before the repartos were conducted routinely made

reference to the amount of corn sown on the plot and to physical features of the tract, sometimes embodied in its ,

164

name. A long description of a tract in 1880 denoted bound-

aries such as "the white oak," "the very tall pine," "the big rock," and "the madrono [tree] surrounded by stones." 38

Boundaries occasionally ran along water courses and ridges, but the rough volcanic terrain at such areas generally precluded settlement or cultivated fields. Consequently there was little interest in knowing the precise location of

such boundaries since the land around them held little

interest for basin residents.

But as lands became distributed to individuals, deeds and contracts increasingly relied on metric measurement, compass bearings, and even longitude and latitude lines.

More importantly, a tract was defined by reference to the ownership of adjacent tracts through the system of metes and bounds mentioned above. In a given area, all land came to be owned by someone and an individual 1 s tract could be identified by whose land it was not, suggesting the absolute and private nature of landholding under the new system. In other words, land went from being defined based on its ecological elements, including its usufruct, to an abstract tract with boundaries that needed no reference to natural features. Such references became irrelevant to the legal identity of a specified property, although the quality of the land miqht still have a bearinq on the value of the tract. While metric measurement came into use durinq the

1890s, it was commonly used only for small tracts such as 165 the solares within the fundo legal. Agricultural plots continued to use the method based on the amount of corn sown through the first decade of the twentieth century.

Land was now a commodity; its value was no longer measured in the amount of corn it could produce for a fam- ily's subsistence, but was a price based on the conditions in the market for land. The corn-sown measure came to refer to the size of the tract, related only indirectly to its ability to provide food. The Mexican government specified that a faneaa de sembradura de malz was three hectares, fifty-six ares, and required precise measurement of tracts. 39

The fact that a particular tract might include land inappro- priate for planting made no difference in determining its corn-sown measure. Indeed, land actually submerged under the lake waters could have its size expressed in terms of the amount of corn sown. 40

Property was now governed by the impersonal state with its interest in centralization and standardization. Local ecological concerns and usufruct were subordinated to a formal classif icatory system that was based on the liberal doctrine of private property. The new attitude reflected the analytic, quantitative approach that characterized the

Mexican leadership of the late nineteenth century, espe- cially during the Porf iriato. 41 Three-dimensional landscapes defined by their use and function for local residents were reduced to "two-dimensional inscriptions" that could be 166 transferred from one owner to another without regard to its ecological qualities. 42

For the purposes of this study it is important to note that the early liberal land tenure measures had a mixed success, at least in part, because they failed to appreciate the very nature of village landholding. The Liberals wanted to place legal boundaries around resources that village ecology bounded in dramatically different ways. The govern- ment sanctioned the legal, and sometimes physical, enclosure of resources and thereby denied access to them for those who relied on them for their subsistence.

It was not that the Indian communities always and actively resisted the repartos; as suggested in the last chapter, the rural disturbances of the period were related to long-held agrarian grievances, as well as to opposition to the attacks on the Church. The reason the repartos were so long in coming may have been partly due to the inability of the land users to understand fully the Liberal's concept of private ownership. Indeed, the land reform measure were followed by a flurry of requests for clarification from local officials or the representatives of the indigenous communities as they attempted to determine if and how the laws applied to the various classes of resources they used on a daily basis. In 1865, for example, the subprefect of

Zamora pointed out that the indigenous communities were not covered by the Reforma laws of disamortization because they 167 already enjoyed wide rights of ownership over their lands and were "not simply users and administrators" referred to in the measures. The report goes on to say that although most Indians know the borders of their lands, "they do not know what quantity of lands they enjoy, nor is there exact information about the particular [farm]." Within the West- ern concepts of ownership the ability to measure accurately and value lands appropriately is a basic requirement, but for the Indians, the document suggests that such measurement is unimportant. What matters is the use to which the land is put, and use shifts over time and in response to ecologi- cal factors. 43

For example, in 1871 the Indians of Copandaro in the district of Morel ia complained to the governor about the threats to community rights to water and minerals on land that had previously been ceded to private owners. 44 There was a similar case a few years later involving the Indians of Apatzingan. 45 In his 1893 analysis of the disamortization laws, Luis G. Labastida mentions the precedent-setting rulings regarding the concerns of villagers in Uruapan,

Tepozotlan, and Tepiji. 46 A case arose in August, 1856 in which a cofradia sold land to a renter who subsequently began to sell wood from a forest on the property. The mayordomo complained that the original rental agreement had specified that the forest could only supply wood for the needs of the hacienda, and, therefore, the forest should be 168 retained by the cofradia. The government, however, ruled in favor of the buyer, saying that the purchase included all lands including the forest and the cofradia retained no rights to the wood. 47

What the cases suggest is that those using the re- sources directly and on a daily basis had a different con- ception of how they could be defined as property. The villagers who made up the cofradia mentioned above under- stood that they were selling something, but apparently were surprised to learn that upon completion of the sale they had lost their rights to resources on the property. These cases suggest also that a difference between the legal territory as defined by the state and ecological territory of the villagers is that the former is fixed while the latter shifts seasonally or over the longer term. In the village tenurial regime, a resident might be granted authorization to use a piece of land to plant crops for his family's subsistence, but such authorization did not deny entry to others after the harvest or during fallow periods. Thus, even when lands were sold or rented, Indians sometimes claimed use rights over resources on the tracts. The gov- ernment, on the other hand, considered such transfers to include all rights to resources. Under the 1902 legisla- tion, Michoacan did provide for the retention of water sources and certain other resources, but only by allowing villages to keep such properties titled as communal. 48 169

The conflicts over the legal versus the ecological definition of property intensified beginning in the late

1860s when the repartos became widespread in the Patzcuaro basin. Under state law lands were reguired to be distrib- uted to private owners. Communities, however, routinely claimed that their lands had, in fact, been distributed

"since time immemorial" or, at least, "for many years."

Clearly, in their petitions to the government the pueblos were referring to the tierras de repartimiento or the fundo legal, since both were allocated to individual families under the village property regime. When the state demanded taxes on the undistributed land, the pueblos reguested exemption based on their understanding of the meaning of ownership.

The pueblo of San Geronimo Purenchecuaro began arguing in 1869 that its lands had long been distributed to individ- uals and they therefore should be exempt from payment of taxes for six years under the terms of the December 1868 law. 49 The community apparently was granted the exemption, but many years later the state still was attempting to force the legal reparto of the property. The pueblo continued to claim that the validity of the old, traditional reparto that

had been conducted by their forebears ( antepasados ) of the lands "belonging to all the parcioneros and under the name of the community." In 1902 the community asked that the governor approve the de facto reparto of the village lands. 50 170

Similarly, Santa Fe de la Laguna claimed that they had

"for many years a reparto although without legal formalities of the fundo legal and the tierras de labor ." 51 In this case, they noted the chaotic situation that existed in the village's land tenure after the turn of the century. The original reparto had had "many modifications because many of

the indigenas have sold to others . . . from outside who do not belong to the community." According to a letter sent to the governor, a majority of the villagers gathered in the plaza at six in the afternoon, April 25, 1901 to request formally that the governor verify the reparto of the proper- ties "as they are found." The fundo legal was fully occu- pied for "six hundred varas in each direction" so it was necessary that the government recognize and grant title to the current occupants "in order to avoid disorder" among tract boundaries. Complying literally with the law calling for distribution was not possible because the "urban tracts, pastures, and farm lands" were already distributed equally

"in quantity and quality." 52

The fifty-two family heads of the village of Arocutin, on the southeast quarter of the lake, sought recognition of an old reparto, but no one could seem to remember when it had been made. A state treasury official suggested the partition might have taken place in 1827 or 1828, but that the records had long since been lost. The village's repre- sentative argued that despite the fact that the distribution 171

had been conducted without observing the formalities of the

law, the reparto was valid and "satisfies the demands of

modern societies."" Similarly, the residents of

Erongaricuaro explained in 1902 that their original reparto

had been based on community territorial borders spelled out

in a charter written in 1714. The community provided the

colonial charter to support their case for the validiy of the old reparto. However, the records of their individual titles, presumably issued by the local town council, had been destroyed in a fire and the village sought government recognition based on the colonial-era documents of founda- tion and the testimony of witnesses. 54

For their part, the state often approved the older repartos if the village could substantiate their claims with documentation or witnesses, or if their was general agree- ment among the community members. Occasionally defects were found in the submitted documents and the state required that they be rectified before the reparto would be approved.

From 1889 to 1896 the village of Tocuaro sought to have their old reparto verified by the government, but the padron was found to lack values and specified borders for some of the properties. The reparto was finally approved when the defects were corrected by the community's representative. 55

What the cases suggest is that older, local tenurial arrangments operated exclusive of the state-mandated mea- sures within community boundaries. The long-established 172 local structures remained a primary allocator of property and enforcer of rights to resources without legitimization by the government. Arocutin, Purenchecuaro, Santa Fe,

Erongaricuaro, and and other communities established the boundaries for individual tenure for community members and only turned to "legal formalities" when changes imposed by the government made it expedient or necessary, such as when local control was contested within the community, an issue that will be explored in the next chapter.

The communities defined property rights differently than the state, and the definitions formed the basis for local control over the allocation of resources that per- sisted in some cases well into the twentieth century.

Consequently, resource use and the property regime on which it was based were contested over a long period, in Michoacan from at least the 1820s until the Revolution, as property rights were slowly redefined at all levels in society.

Community S overeignty and the State

All villages had some idea of the territory to which they claimed sovereignty; it might be a vague notion based on the lands the villagers actually used, or precise bound- aries that separated a community from its neighbors. Before lands could be distributed and titled to individuals, the community had to determine the extent of the property the village claimed as its own. Santa Fe de la Laguna deter- mined, for example, that its lands comprised about three 173

hundred fanegas of agricultural land, or about 1,070 hect-

ares. The community also had one and a quarter sitio de

ganado mayor of woodlands and pastures on the Cerro de

Z irate to the northeast of the village, a claim that encom-

passed over two thousand hectares. Thus, the total land

area claimed by Santa Fe was over three thousand hectares. 56

But at Santa Fe de la Laguna, as elsewhere, the claims

of the village to the property its members used always

depended to a certain extent on the recognition of those

claims by others. As we will see, Santa Fe's claims were

challenged by both Quiroga and Tzintzuntzan over the years

and there have been acrimonious land disputes involving the

community up to the present. Local property rights struc-

tures can address issues within the community, but problems

arise in defining a community's territory vis-a-vis other

entities. Groups must be prepared to defend conflicting

claims by appealing to a higher authority for mediation or

by resorting to local, sometimes violent, methods. Such

conflicts were not new in the late nineteenth century, but

they often revealed themselves as a part of the state-man-

dated land distribution process.

When it became known that the Indians of Quiroga had begun the legal proceedings to distribute their lands in

18 69, the residents of nearby Atzimbo complained to the governor. It seems that territorial claims to land between the two communities had been uncertain for some time and 174

Atzimbo expressed the fear that Quiroga intended to distrib-

ute in the reparto process "the lands whose ownership is

disputed." They requested that the government prevent the

representative of Quiroga from "surveying, measuring, or

distributing" lands along its disputed eastern boundary with

Atzimbo. Quiroga countered that the village "enjoyed in

common" the land in question, and, therefore, they should be

allowed to proceed with its reparto. The conflict appar-

ently was resolved in 1908 when the disputed area was di-

vided equally between the two communities. 57

Across the lake, a dispute was recorded in 1902 that

apparently had been simmering for at least half a century.

The villages of Pichataro and Erongaricuaro had made an

agreement in 1847 granting access for both communities to

lands that included an important water source and wood

resources. But, according to documents filed by

Erongaricuaro, between the time of the agreement and the

first years of the twentieth century the indigenas of

Pichataro occupied more and more property "with injury to

the interests of Erongaricuaro. 1158 Erongaricuaro claimed

that Pichataro crossed the boundary "invading" their lands

and, therefore, asked the government "to determine the line that separates definitively the properties of one and the other pueblo." 55 It is notable that the reguest by

Erongaricuaro came shortly after new reparto laws were adopted in the state of Michoacan. The complaints made 175 specific reference to the new legislation, which clearly was seen by the Indians as a means to resolve this dispute over village sovereignty. They note that the laws require that

"the questions of boundaries when they were between two communities be resolved by the government." 60 Four years later the boundary between the two villages remained in dispute, and had, in fact, "impeded the reparto of the lands pertaining to Erongaricuaro. " 61

Although the documents do not always record resolutions to these disputes, they illustrate one type of conflict over village sovereignty: where to draw the boundary between each community's territory. Rigid boundaries, of course, were essential under the liberal land laws since they formed the basis for the private ownership of land that the govern- ment sought to foment. The reparto law of 1902 in Michoacan spelled out in strong terms the need and procedures for determining community boundaries, and encompassed communally-used land to a greater extent than before. It was these lands that were most often disputed between vil- lages, rather than lands that had long been allocated to invididuals.

Although Atzimbo in the above example was able to head off Quiroga's attempt to distribute the disputed land, such was not always the case, and it was possible that two or more communities might both complete repartos of the same tract. In the late 1890s, Tocuaro and Arocutin argued over 176

a property known as "Echaraquacutiro" near the southwest

shore of the lake. Despite the fact that the land was rocky

malpais , both communities claimed the land for their members

and apparently distributed tracts to individuals. It may

have been that sovereignty over this property only became an

issue when the new laws threatened to close off access to

the land. Since the property had little value, being

malpais, it was probably largely ignored by the communities

before this period. When the land laws brought the threat

of denunciation, nearby indigenas took the opportunity to

claim rights to the property. 62 The case also demonstrates

how local control over property manifests itself as an issue

of territorial sovereignty. The disputed land was seen by

each community as its sovereign territory, subject to vil-

lage rules over property allocation. The rights to use the

property, however meager its resources, were defined by the

community and were granted in opposition to other communi-

ties. The state had to be called in to resolve the territo-

rial issue so that local control could be maintained.

In the cases mentioned above, it seems that the main

concern of the villages involved the outright usurpation of

land through the reparto process. Other cases had to do with one village taking the resources of another, as hap- pened with San Andres Tzirondaro, on the lakeshore, and

Azajo, a sierra pueblo to the northwest. Between the two communities is an area known on maps as "Cuerecuaro" that 177 includes pasture and woodlands used primarily by Tzirondaro

Beginning in 1903, Tzirondaro made a series of complaints about the invasions of its land by Azajo, particularly concerning cattle grazing on their land and the cutting of wood in their montes. In this case it does not appear that the communities sought to distribute the land to their members, but that Tzirondaro wished to retain the land for communal uses. In order to do so they turned to the state government to determine the limits of each community's sovereign territory. The boundary established by the gov- ernment between the two communities was very precise; it relied on careful surveying using compass bearings and metric measurement. 63

Previously mentioned, there had been a long-simmering dispute between Ihuatzio and Tzintzuntzan, under way since at least 1878 and continuing unresolved for several decades, perhaps longer. Once again, the dispute focussed on ques- tions about the boundaries between the two communities with allegations that each side had invaded and made use of the lands and resources of the other. Ihuazio's argument was expressed in a letter to the governor in 1898,

For many years we have had differences with the indigenas of Zintzunzan, because they do not respect the boundaries of our properties which they have in- vaded intending to take possession of a great part of the land. . . . The expressed indigenas of Zintzuntzan have sold to those of Cucuchucho a tract that legally belongs to us, and that they have declared their prop- erty. . . 178

While the representatives of the communities involved sought

the government's help in establishing the boundaries of the

lands in guestion, the dispute became increasingly violent.

About fifteen Ihuatzio Indians cutting firewood on the tract

in October of 1899 were attacked and beaten by a group from

Tzintzuntzan, and a few days later an armed band from

Ihuatzio provoked a fight with some Tzintzuntzenos on their

own land. 65

Ultimately the goverment ruled in favor of the Indians

of Tzintzuntzan, finding that they had the better claim. As

the Ihuatzio claimants pointed out, it came down to an

interpretation of titles and the legal statutues that deter- mined them. Ihuatzio based its claim on "the spirit" of the

land laws, which they believed were intended to promote "the order and peace of the pueblos." 66 The government, on the other hand, was interested in economic development, and sought to establish boundaries that would help bring about private ownership. Obviously, the residents of Tzintzuntzan made a case that was more consistent with the official position on land use. By this time the state was moving away from the recognition a village's sovereign territory; legally a community had no legal standing. Thus, claims cast solely in communal terms were less convincing than those that were likely to provide a means for the ultimate goal of privatization. 179

Tzintzuntzan also argued over their boundary with

Quiroga up until at least the 1930s, when Donald Brand found

the division between the two municipalities to be "the most

indefinite of all." 67 As land became private, the boundary

came to be accepted, in the absence of specifics, as deter-

mined by the residence of the owners of the lands in the

disputed zone. Since residents of Quiroga seem to have had

greater success acquiring lands in this area, the boundary

has moved toward Tzintzuntzan from about the 1880s. Part of

the problem was that ancient boundaries were based on ephem-

eral physical features of the landscape, as was common

throughout Mexico. In the case of the Tzintzuntzan-Quiroga

boundary, an arroyo once served as the boundary but at some

point had been diverted for irrigation adding to the confu-

sion surrounding the line. 68

Territorial disputes also existed between the villages

and the state in that the former sought to retain certain

communally-used tracts while the latter wanted such lands

declared baldios or "national lands." As long as the commu-

nity subjected the land to a reparto, and there was no

counterclaim made, it appears that it was safe from denunci-

ation. But certain communal property remained a sticking point during the period since it was difficult or impossible to divide certain lands among individuals under the terms of the land laws, even if a particular community was inclined to do so. )

180

First, the nature of the property might not lend itself

to division. The lakeshore community of Tzurumutaro argued

that only they should have rights to the shoreline in the

area adjacent to their village. In fact, they may have been

referring to reedy shallows or the very narrow bank of the

lake, which could not be distributed to individuals in any

meaningful way. When others began to encroach on their

territory, the village asked the government to grant to the

community riparian rights to the shore of the lake that

produced eighty pesos annually from fishing. The govern-

ment, however, claimed "that the lakes are property of the

Nation" and the community was not entitled to exclusive

rights to use this property. Although such property would

not be subject to a reparto, or denounced and sold to indi- viduals, it was effectively declared to be of open access by the action of the state, and any legal claims of sovereignty were subsequently lost. 69

A similar difficulty arose with tracts that simply were too small to divide among all the community members who might have a claim on them. In 1902 a number of basin pueblos retained "small fractions" of land that they contin-

ued to use "in common," typically as woodlots ( astillero .

In a number of these cases the government seemed to ignore the absurdity of giving individuals title to tracts of relatively few square meters, and required that the tracts be distributed under the reparto laws. Although the laws 181

allowed for certain lands to be retained under village

ownership, such as those around springs, the trend was for

increasingly greater portions to be privatized. 10

Changes in the Lake

As if the land tenure situation during this period were

not confusing enough, the very nature of Lake Patzcuaro

posed special problems for landholding by lakeshore villages

and individuals. As noted in an earlier chapter, Patzcuaro

is characterized by fairly rapid changes in surface level,

and such changes have historically led to resource shifts

that have had important implications for basin society.

The extent of the changes in lake level during this period

are uncertain, but an 1888 document mentions that "year by

year, Lake Patzcuaro raised its level and invaded part of

the lands" of the village of Huecorio making it necessary to

redistribute the lands of the villagers. 71 A hand-drawn map

accompanying documents from 1897 show "lands of Tocuaro

occupied by the Lake" and submerged fences; the area known

as "Copujo" was mentioned as an island in 1903, but today is

found in a fairly large area of dry land between the old

lakeshore and the island of Jaracuaro. 72

It seems likely that the lake remained high until at

least the 1890s, but declined sufficiently by 1901 to expose the new lands, a trend that appears to have continued for a number of years. At about the turn of the century the lake was experiencing a downward trend, uncovering new areas of 182

land adjacent to some of the lakeside villages. The opening

up of these lands subsequently brought conflicts over sover-

eignty and ownership. Villages claimed these lands as their

own territory, the state sought to designate them as na-

tional lands, and individuals sought to extend ownership or

usufruct rights over them.

In one case Narciso Arias "tried to seize a tract of

land that was uncovered in the land and that borders with

the properties of the Indians." The indigenas of Santa Fe

de la Laguna complained that Arias owned only a small prop-

erty near the new lands and intended to close off access to the community members. 73 Such lands "uncovered" by the decline of the lake became an issue for Tzintzuntzan around

1903. The village claimed sovereignty over the property and requested permission from the government for the exploita- tion of the land. Specifically, it sought to rent the lands for agriculture with the proceeds accruing to the village

under the administration of the ayuntamiento . Preference in the rentals would be given to those village members whose tracts already bordered on the lands exposed by Patzcuaro's receding shoreline. Some of these same indigenas, however, claimed individual ownership of some of the lands uncovered by the lake and asked that the validity of their ownership be acknowledged. Under the land titles of the time, borders were often expressed as "the shore ( orilla ) of the lake," which would seem to confer a moving property boundary and, 183

in this case, an increasingly larger tract. Although the

government was willing in some cases to grant usufruct

rights to the newly-opened land, it would remain federal property and not be automatically conferred on the adjacent

owners. Nevertheless, some of the land was in fact distrib- uted to private owners by the Tzintzuntzan 1 s representative,

further confusing the already-complex tenure situation. 74

In another case, near Santa Fe de la Laguna, the reparto conducted by the village was complicated by the declining lake level. It seems that in 1878 Zacarias

Hernandez transferred about one-third of the land he farmed on the lakeshore to fellow-resident Dionisio Dimas. Subse- quently, the lake shore, to which the property of Dimas was adjacent, receded and the reparto commission granted him a larger tract when the titles were regularized. Hernandez argued, however, that at the time of the sale, 1878, the water's edge was identified by visible landmarks, and that part of the lands exposed belonged to him. Hernandez claimed that Dimas should be left with only the twenty-five litros that he had acquired originally since the borders were fixed. 75 Dimas countered that since the documents of the sale specified that the southern border of the property was the now-receded lakeshore he was entitled to the prop- erty. 76 The state subsequently issued an opinion that nei- ther party had a right to the land uncovered by the lake's decline as it was not included in the original documents. 77 184

Relatively flat and fertile, the formerly-submerged

lands were no doubt quite valuable to the village farmers.

Consequently, they generated conflicts between community

claims of sovereignty, individual claims of ownership, and

state claims of jurisdiction over the disposition of the

property. The cases show the extent to which private land

ownership was accepted by the villagers, since they sought

individual title exclusive of, indeed, in opposition to, the

claims of their own communities. Once again, the state was

called in to mediate the disputes. 78

Conclusion

It is clear that the legal measures that had the great-

est effect at the local level were those enacted by the

state of Michoacan, laws that had their origin several decades before Lerdo promulgated his well-known scheme. The documents show that most of the communities and individuals at this time were responding to Michoacan state-level mea- sures, and the effects of the Lerdo Law and other federal

legislation were felt, for the most part, indirectly.

Concerns about denunciation and federal taxation, both reflecting national policy, appear from time to time and often drove the communities to take action. But the spe- cific legal references made by the actors were typically to the laws enacted in Morel ia. Indeed, the period of greatest activity in land distribution appeared to be initiated after the state legislature called for the imposition of a tax on 185

undistributed land in 1868, and declared that Indian commu- nities were officially extinguished.

As suggested in the foregoing pages, the "assault on

communal holdings" was a drawn-out, highly-contested process

in the Patzcuaro basin. Although it unfolded over nearly a

century, the most active phase ocurred between 1869 and

1910, a period when land was drawn into a regime in which

control over property would be exercised primarily by indi-

viduals under conditions established by authorities beyond

the local community. The property regime was redefined

during this period bringing with it a fundamental change in

the relationship between the basin environment and its human

occupants. As will be seen in the next chapter, village control eroded, individual tenure was strengthened, and the ability of landed property to provide for the subsistence of the basin residents declined.

Notes

'AHPEM, Morelia, 12:187-354, Feb. 13, 1903.

2 AHPEM , Morelia, 12:187-354, July 31, 1903; Oct. 26,

1904 .

3 The parcioneros of Santa Fe were assessed "one peso for each two cuarterones or for each half almud de sembradura de maiz de temporal." AHPEM, Morelia, 1:166-173, May 19, 1901.

4 George Foster calculated Tzintzuntzan • s land at 733 hectares based on eight liters of maize per almud and fif- teen liters per hectare. The official measurements used here are based on 7.56 liters per almud and 25.5 liters per hectare.

5 See Foster, Empire's Children , 170-173; AHPEM, Morelia, 8:59-363. 186

'AHPEM, Morelia, 4:253-275; Padron general de parcioneros Que tienen derecho a los bi enes repartidos de hecho. pertenientes a la extinauida comunidad de San Geronimo Purenchecuaro. See also the case of the indigenas of Patzcuaro who sought title in 1882 to lands in the area, even though the original reparto had been conducted in 1828; AHPEM, Morelia, 35:300-358.

7 AHPEM, Morelia, 8, Nov. 21, 1881.

9 AHPEM, Patzcuaro, 16:175-243, Oct. 2, 1896.

9 AHPEM , Morelia, 12, July 4, 1903.

"The parcioneros of Santa Fe originally voted 324 in favor of the reparto and 2 38 against. But, according to the members of the reparto commission, the objections of the opponents apparently were resolved in short order and the documents of the reparto were filed in Tzintzuntzan. Whether the objections were truly resolved, is unknown. As noted, there were cases of fraud during this time in which the representatives obtained land for themselves. AHPEM, Morelia, 1:166-173, May 19, 1901.

UAHPEM, Morelia, 35:381-391, Jan. 31, 1899. Point number six suggests that "possessed in common" refers to ejido land rather than the tierras de repartimiento. Note that this letter was written in 1899, before the laws of 1902 specifically called for the distribution of ejido lands.

12 AHPEM , Morelia, 5:124-193, 1870; The area measure given in this description is unclear. In this description, the two and a half cuarterones referred to suggest the amount of corn it would take to sow the plot, probably a little over one half pound. Therefore Apolinar Luz's tract described here was very small, probably about a third of a hectare. Toward the end of the century, the metric system began to be used with increasing freguency, and was mandated in a law of June 1895; See p_g_ IV: 8, 5 Abril 1896.

13 AHPEH, Morelia, 5:10-14; AHPEM, Patzcuaro, 7:31-34.

'"AHPEM, Morelia, 32:166.

UAHPEM, Patzcuaro, 2:101.

16AHPEM, Patzcuaro, 7:34-39.

"AHPEM, Morelia, 1:166-173. 73

187

19 See AHPEM, Morelia, 5:194-242, Feb. 12, 1872; Ibid, 12:114-137, May 27, 1880.

19AHPEM, Patzcuaro, 16:175-243, Oct. 6, 1896.

20 AHPEM, Morelia, 12:187-354, July 18, 1903.

21AHPEM, Patzcuaro, 7:31-34.

22 AHPEM, Patzcuaro, 16: 175-243, March 13, 1905.

2 AHPEM, Morelia, 35:112-172, Feb. 2, 1907.

24 AHN, Reaistro Publico , April 13, 1887, 227-229.

"Ibid, Tomo 31, #2014, Feb 10, 1894;AHPEM, Patzcuaro, 4:147-205, Dec. 9, 1895.

26The documents are now held in the Archivo Historico del Poder Ejecutivo del Estado de Michoacan. For an example of a community representative's explanation of the use of the libros de hijuelas see the undated letter to the gover- nor from the indigenas of San Bartolo Pareo in AHPEM, Patzcuaro, Libro 13. See also the letter from the Indians of Tzentzenguaro asking for the the approval of their reparto and the distribution of titles in AHPEM, Patzcuaro, 16:175-243, March 27, 1905.

2 AHPEM, Morelia, 12:114-137, Sept. 8, 1902.

29 AHPEM, Morelia, 1:166-173, Feb. 28, 1906.

"AHPEM , Morelia, 22:3-40.

"See "Noticia de los pueblos de indigenas del Estado de Michoacan de Ocampo. que han verificado el reparto de sus tierras conforme a la ley " AHPEM, Morelia, r 32:28-33, 1908. The report gives verification dates for the pueblos of each district.

n Ibid, 4.

32 AHPEM, Patzcuaro, 6:1-210.

""Noticia"; Foster, Empire's Children , 170-173.

34 State and federal tax policy is not discussed in any detail in this paper. It is a complex issue with overlap- ping jurisdictions, conflicting exemptions, and ambiguous rulings. The Libros d e Hiiuelas f however, contain consider- able primary material pertaining to tax matters as they were applied to and impacted upon the indigenous villages in .

188

Michoacan. Scholars interested in exploring this matter should consult the index of the hijuelas for Michoacan available from AHPEM for the many cases in which pueblos and individuals sought exemption from state and federal taxes. Tax bills are often included that explain the breakdown of the assessments.

35AHPEM, Morelia, 12:114-137, April 1880.

36 For the case of Tzintzuntzan see AHPEM, Morelia, 8:59- 363, May 13, 1876. A lien was placed on Tzirondaro's land over a debt to the government of twenty-four pesos; AHPEM, Morelia, 12:114-137, April 20, 1880. The government fined Purenchecuaro for failing to provide reports on the amount of maize and wheat harvested during the past year, reports apparently required either for assessment purposes or to determine if the community was entitled to an exemption; AHPEM, Morelia, 5:15-23, Nov. 1, 1905.

"William Cronon describes the nature of legal descrip- tions in his study of colonial New England, especially in Chapter Four, pages 74-75. The following section drew on the concepts advanced by Cronon in his work. For similar issues of legal taxonomies of landholding see Greg Bankoff, "Coming to Terms with Nature: State and Environment in Maritime Southeast Asia," Environmental History Review 19:3

(Fall 1995) , 17-37.

38 AHN, EE, Tomo 4, Jan. 10, 1880.

" Periodico Oficial March 25, 1895.

"AHPEM, Morelia, 8:59:363, July 6, 1904.

"See Hale, Transformation . Ch. 7.

42 See Merchant, Ecological Revolutions , 22.

43 See Heriberto Moreno Garcia, "Un Documento sobre las Comunidades Indigenas de Zamora Durante el Segundo Imperio," in La Sociedad Indigena en el Centro y Occidente de Mexico, ed. Pedro Carrasco (Zamora, Michoacan: El Colegio de Michoacan, 1986), 221.

"AHPEM, Morelia, 20:152.

,5AHPEM, Apatzingan, 9:98.

"See Labastida's review of the various classes of property on pages 19-2 3. He provides a brief history and outlines the status under the disamortization laws of bienes comunales . fundo legal, ejidos . terrenos , montes. and aguas 189

47LH, 230.

48 See the discussion of these changes in Chapter Four above. See also Moises Franco Mendoza, "La Desamortizacion de Bienes de Comunidades Indigenas en Michoacan," in La Sociedad Indiaena. 183-187.

49AHPEM, Morelia, 5:194-282.

50 AHPEM, Morelia, 4, Aug. 7, 1902.

51 AHPEM, Morelia, 1, 27 Abril 1901. As was often the case, the village had earlier distributed some of its lands, but apparently not all. Santa Fe's original state reparto was begun in 1870, but by 1901 there remained land, both house lots in the village proper and agricultural plots, that had not been subjected to legal reparto as required by the state.

"Ibid.

53 See the documents in AHPEM, Patzcuaro, 2, June 27, 1892 and Dec. 9, 1898. Apparently, losing the documentation of earlier repartos was common, as the government official notes in the first letter that such lost records "happened with many other pueblos."

54 The 1714 charter can be seen in AHPEM, Morelia, 21:1- 7. It addresses only the territory of the village and not individual title of the villagers. It is entirely possible, of course, that the individual titles never existed, and that the community leaders in 1902 were making false claims. See AHPEM, Patzcuaro, 4, July 24, 1902.

"AHPEM, Morelia, 35:205-233, May 25, 1896. Apparently, the old reparto had been conducted in 1869, but had never been approved by the government. From 1869 to 1889 the properties of the village "had suffered many modifications," and a new reparto was needed since "it would be impossible for us to subject ourselves to the old padrones without suffering a true revolution in our legitimate rights." Ibid, Feb. 13, 1889.

"The village lands worked out to about five and a half hectares for each of the 562 parcioneros. But the village lands, of course, were not distributed in equal size to members of the community, and the monte and pasta jes (pas- tures) were probably not distributed at all during this reparto. A notation in the villages hijuelas refers to the reparto fee assessment based on land they actually pos- sessed. Presumably, each parcionero retained the tierras de repartimiento that he had farmed before the reparto had 190

taken place. Based on the terrenos de labor , the agricul- tural land near the village proper, there was just under two hectares available per family. AHPEM, Morelia, 1:166-173, May 19, 1901, "Puntos de informe."

"See AHPEM, Morelia, 4:173-252, Oct. 2, 1869; Oct. 7,

1869; Brand Ouiroga , 32. In 1872 residents of Quiroga complained that "the nearby haciendas and pueblos had in- vaded the lands of the community to such a degree that they had been reduced to possessing presently only some solares.

. . " Their claim, however, is certainly overstated since they subsequently distributed larger tracts to their mem- bers. AHPEM, Morelia 4:173-252, April 26, 1872.

58 AHPEM, Patzcuaro, 4:206-225, July 24, 1902. See AHPEM, Uruapan, 15:273-274 for the 1847 agreement between the two communities.

"Ibid, July 25, 1902.

60 Ibid, July 24, 1902.

"Ibid, Nov. 25, 1902.

"AHPEM, Patzcuaro, 2:151-173, Nov. 8, 1897; Dec. 11, 1897. The area in question can be identified on present-day maps of the region which show a large area of malpais encom- passing the region around the villages on the lakeshore to the west. It is steep and very rugged terrain, perhaps the largest area of malpais in the basin.

"The government pointed out that since there was no fence between the lands of the two villages it was not surprising that cattle from Azajo sometimes crossed over into Tzirondaro's property, where they apparently grazed not only on pasture land but on planted ground as well. Once the boundaries were established the government recommended that a fence be constructed. There is nothing in the docu- ments that reveal Azajo' s position on this matter. See AHPEM, Morelia, 12:187-354, March 27, 1903; April 7, 1903; October 21, 1904; Nov. 10, 1904; Aug. 22, 1905. Compass bearings were figured to minutes (e.g., 34° 20'), and dis- tances in meters and centimeters. Why the government did not take the opportunity to demand that the land be distrib- uted to individuals is unknown. Presumably, the tract fell into a category of land that was exempted from reparto by the 1902 legislation (see Ch. 4.).

64 AHPEM, Patzcuaro, 2:1-101, Nov. 7, 1898.

"AHPEM, Patzcuaro, 2:1-101, Oct. 24, 1899; Oct. 26, 1899; Mar. 18, 1900. 5

191

AHPEM, Patzcuaro, 2:1-101, Feb. 3, 1902.

Brand, Ouiroga , 24.

"According to Brand, citizens of the area in the 1930s and early 1940s were "not in agreement as to the location of the southern boundary and are guite apt to mention the Arroyo del Cerro Azul or other boundaries." Brand, Ouiroga , 24.

69 See Tzurumutaro • s reguest in AHPEM, Patzcuaro, 2:106- 114, April 4, 1900, and the goverment response on April 16, 1900. Although the letter does not specify, the community probably rented the fishing rights along the shore in this area to community members, or perhaps outsiders as well, to produce the income for village expenses. The village is located on the shallow, reedy southeastern arm of the lake.

70 In 1902 local officials from Quiroga reported that small fractions remained undistributed and were used commu- nally in Purenchecuaro, Santa Fe de la Laguna, and Tzirondaro. The report was apparently in response to a circular from the Prefectura of Morelia seeking to identify lands in the region that remained undistributed. AHPEM, Morelia, 3:1-46, Aug. 16, 1902. The results of such distri- butions are discussed in the next chapter.

"AHPEM, Patzcuaro, 10:35-105, Oct. 22, 1888.

72 AHPEM, Patzcuaro, 2:151-173, Dec. 11, 1897. The rapidity of the changes in Lake Patzcuaro' s surface level should not be underestimated. Apparently, there were rapid and highly-visible drops in the mid-1980s, perhaps related to the earthguake that devastated Mexico City.

73 AHPEM, Morelia, 1:24-165, Feb. 22, 1904.

74 AHPEM, Morelia, 8:59-363, July 21, 1903; Feb. 13, 1903; March 13, 1903; Oct. 7, 1903.

7 AHPEM, Morelia, 1:24-165, Aug. 10, 1901.

76 Ibid, Aug, 23, 1901.

77 Ibid, Sept. 9, 1901.

78 The changing surface area of lakes no doubt happened in other areas as well as the Patzcuaro basin. The most notable example would be the draining of the Cienaga de Chapala which opened up thousands of hectares for agricul- tural development at about this same time. See Brigitte Boehm de Lameiras, "Peasants and Entrepreneurs in the 192

Cienaga de Chapala, Michoacan, Mexico, 1866-1910," Agricul- tural History 63:2 (Spring 1989), 62-76. In 1896 Juan Lopez Aguado began denunciation proceedings on a piece of property that had previously been covered by a small lake. When the lake disappeared about twelve hectares of land were exposed that Lopez denounced and sought to claim; Periodico Oficial 27 December 1896. .

CHAPTER 6

THE REPARTOS AND BASIN ECOLOGY

Three processes were related to the distribution of community land to private owners in the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries. Each can be seen as an ecologi- cal process in that it was intertwined with the relationship between the basin residents and the environment. One, the role of communities of the Patzcuaro basin in resource use eroded as residents came to accept private ownership over the older communal structures. Although internal conflicts over property no doubt existed long before, the legal exter- mination of the pueblos made it necessary for villagers to turn to the state to resolve such conflicts. The state and the village, however, had different priorities for the use

of property and, consequently , the older, local structures gave way to those established by the state and national governments

Additionally, landed property declined in its capabil- ity to provide for the subsistence of basin residents as private ownership closed off access to resources. Ecologi- cal factors no longer played a role in forming the property regime. Natural resource use came to be based on legally- specified rights based on the belief that private ownership

193 194

would stimulate productivity. But the evidence suggests

that the users of the basin's resources found that the new

property regime with its rigid boundaries constrained their

ability to draw their subsistence from the land.

Finally, villagers who became private owners often

found that their best choice in using their property was to

part with it, now that it was unable to provide for the

necessities of life. To be sure, some residents had their

land taken from them through outright theft or fraud, but

many made the obvious decision to sell for needed cash.

With little or no land, the basin residents turned to other means to survive, such as full-time handicraft production or

selling their labor on sometimes-distant farms.

Individual Tenure and th e Erosion of Community

Although the change in the property regime was slow and complex, by the first decade of the twentieth century the role of the community in determining property rights had all but disappeared. Property rights were now based on individ- ual ownership secured by the overarching authority of the government, a state of affairs sought by liberal-minded leaders for at least a century. In Michoacan the Indian pueblos had no legal standing; officially they were merely manifestations of settlement patterns, and their sovereign claims over various classes of property were weakened or subordinated to the claims of individuals, often their own members, or of the state. 195

Individual tenure was recognized and understood by

individual users long before it was mandated by the liberal

measures of the state and national government. As noted

above, land apportioned to villagers was sometimes "bought"

and "sold," but there is reason to believe that the trans-

fers of rights associated with such transactions were dif-

ferent from those the Liberals had in mind. The documents

make clear that villagers were willing and eager to accept

formal title to the land they used when the land distribu-

tion laws began to be applied with increased vigor after

1867. Individuals commonly asked to have their land claims

recognized by the government, both within and outside of the

context of the reparto. The residents of the basin pueblos

understood that unless they participated in the land distri-

bution, their claims to the plots they farmed individually

could be undermined or lost entirely.

Over the period of active land distribution, the

indigenas came to use the system to protect their individual

rights, in ways often at odds with the efforts of the commu- nities. The social bond based on community tenure eroded as decisions about land use shifted from the village to the

individual. Land was allocated under terms established by the state, and families questioned community responsibili- ties for determining patterns of resource use within village territory. 196

The naming of the representative and reparto commis-

sion, generally the first steps in the reparto process, was

often a fairly contentious issue, with communities sometimes

divided over who should occupy these important positions.

The pueblos often complained that the representative did not

act in their best interests, on occasion granting land to

those who were not village members. The representatives, of

course, had to speak Spanish and typically were elite mem-

bers of the peasant community or were residents of nearby

cities. In many cases the role was filled by the municipal

president, but smaller villages probably lacked any individ-

uals who had the reguisite language skills or knowledge of

the Mexican legal system. Several of the communities along

the northern shore of the lake drew their representatives

from Quiroga, while those at the south end often chose representatives who resided in Patzcuaro. Whether they were outsiders or members of the community, the representatante generated much conflict within the community as individuals and factions broke away from the village majority when they felt their interests were threatened.

The representative from Tzintzuntzan in the 1880s and

1890s was an Indian named Andres Aparicio, who residents later suggested was a "puppet" of a wealthy resident of

Quiroga. 1 In 1885, a small group of Tzintzuntzenos publicly revoked the power of their representative, and declared null any contracts he completed on the community's behalf. 2 197

Aparicio was the subject of frequent complaints by villagers who believed that he alienated communal land in favor of outsiders. Similarly, Indians from the pueblo of San Andres

Tzirondaro, on the northwest shore of the lake, complained that their representative had injured their interests by

"alienating some parts of the tract called 'de La Virgen, 1 whose products have been destined for the cult and for repairs to the church." The village asked that a new repre- sentative, "who deserves [our] confidence," be named. 3 In

1880 the residents of Erongaricuaro asked that their reparto commission be removed from office "for committing many

nt abuses .

The disposition of the "La Virgen" tract was a particu- larly contentious affair for the village residents, and shows further how the repartos contributed to conflicts within the community. The property had long been used by the community to support the village church and was probably exploited communally by members carrying out their religious obligations. In order to comply with the 1902 reparto law, the village formed a commission that came up with three options for the property. First, allowing "one or more indigenas to exploit it with the condition of ceding all or or part of the product" to the object designated by the villagers, presumably the church or village expenses.

Second, they might sell the land outright and distribute the proceeds among the villagers or use it "for some object of 198

common utility." Third, the land might be distributed among

the Indians who had a right to it. The commission decided

on the third option, no doubt under pressure from the state,

and began the legal proceedings set out in the reparto law.

The impending reparto of La Virgen brought an immediate

protest by a group of about thirty residents who demanded

that the property not be distributed to private owners. The

reparto, they argued, was a direct threat to their church,

and they begged the governor to intervene to protect this

land as community property. The matter intensified when the

representative and head of the reparto commission arrived on

September 16, 1903. The local priest, highly-agitated over

the threats to his church's base of support, proceded to

beat and kick the unfortunate representative, Felipe Mendez,

"for a space of a half an hour," leaving him wounded and

confined to his bed. Although this state of affairs caused

"a sensation" in the village, the reparto was conducted as

reguired by the laws of 1902. 5

The land used to support the church and other religious

activities had been the focus of disamortization from the very beginning. As happened in Tzirondaro, the cofradia

land often caused disturbances in the villages as some members sought to use the land in traditional fashion while others were willing, perhaps eager, to carve the lands up in private property. San Pedro Pareo divided its cofradia land among village members in 1893, apparently without incident. 6 199

Conflicts over cofradia land suggest that the repartos

were seen as threats to the carrying out of religious obli-

gations, or cargos . As Pedro Carrasco notes,

Taking cargos is considered necessary to reach heaven:

. . . In Jaracuaro the cargueros wear a crown during processions and it is said that those who take no cargos have no crown, thereby diminishing their stand- ing before God. In Tzintzuntzan it is said that the carguero who does not participate in the Saturday processions has to do so after death. 7

When the land laws brought the distribution of land used to

support the church, the former-community obligations became the responsibility of individuals. "Cult financing came to be done almost exclusively through personal contributions by

sponsors, and, given the changing economic order, it consti- tuted a burden which often led to impoverishment and the

loss of land." 7 As community land ceased to be used commu- nally for the support of the Church, individual obligations, along with individual tenure, became the norm. 5

Individuals also appealed to the government for redress of individual grievances concerning their allocated plots.

Senora Maria Ignacia Cananea complained to the governor that the representante of Tzintzuntzan had distributed lands that she and her ancestors had possessed since time immemorial.

Although she admitted that her title was "defective"

( defectuoso , ) she clearly believed that the land was hers, by right of occupancy and use as well as under existing law. 10 Similarly, Maria del Refugio Barajas complained that the reparto commission of Santa Ana Chapitiro had granted 200

ownership of lands to which she was entitled in that village

to her sister-in-law. Maria Del Refugio Barajas claimed

that as the sole heir of the original parcionero, Mariano

Barajas, she had primary rights to the land even though she

had since moved to nearby San Bartolo Pareo. To make her

case she supplied a copy of the original padron showing the

tracts granted to her father. 11

At times small groups of individuals sought title to

the lands they farmed, separately from their village. Under

the law such groups could apparently apply for a reparto

exclusive of pueblo status as long as they could convince

the authorities that they were the usufructaries of the land

in question. Since the indigenous communities had been

legally abolished in 1870s, the issue of community residence

ceased to be a requirement for the completion of a reparto.

The groups were sometimes acting in open opposition to the

larger village reparto, while in other cases the land ap- pears not to have been subject to the community's distribu- tion. A group of eleven indigenas from Tzintzuntzan com- plained that they had been excluded from the community reparto and provided the government with a list of the specific tracts for which they sought title. 12 In 1878 fourteen residents of Ihuatzio obtained the reparto of a tract, which they intended to sell to a large landowner named Francisco Flores. Some 123 other vecinos of the village protested the division, claiming that the land in 201

question had already been distributed by the community

generally sometime between 1848 and 1861. 13 Another group of

Tzintzuntzenos asked to have their titles to a monte on the

Cerro Tariaqueri ratified by the government so that they

would continue to have access to the wood, "indispensible

for the pottery industry and domestic services. 1,14

After the government imposed measures prohibiting the

sale of community lands in 1902, the documents record numer-

ous cases of individuals seeking to sell lands that they believed were their' s individually, rather than "of the

community." After lands of a village were distributed, it

is quite clear that individuals had no difficulting under- standing ownership, at least at a basic level, as indicated by the frequency that villagers sold their lands once they had legal authority to do so. Although, as has been men- tioned, there is some question about the extent to which the sale altered the residents' understanding of their rights to resources.

It also seems likely that the repartos contributed to socioeconomic differentiation as some villagers obtained tracts whose value was greater under the system of private ownership. When lands were distributed two families might be granted tracts of equal size, or equal "official" value expressed in pesos. But their use-value or value on the land market might in fact be quite different as revealed when the tracts were subsequently sold. Those with 202

relatively greater landed wealth were able to purchase the

properties of those whose land was insufficient to provide for family subsistence.

The conflicts discussed so far can be seen as largely

internal to the village, and suggest the extent to which

communal tenure and private ownership conflicted during this period. In an strictly legal sense, the comunidades de

indiaenas ceased to exist by the first decade of the twenti- eth century, and their formal role in property regime eroded dramatically. There were very few occasions when a reparto could be completed without disputes over property rights and resource use within the village. Although both communal and private ownership changed during this period, it would be inaccurate to say that the latter replaced the former.

Within the community, communal ownership was an important means for governing resources use, but villagers by this time had a clear understanding of what it meant to have land of their own. The liberal land measures added new elements to individual tenure, in particular the right to sell the land without approval of the community. The laws also removed from the property regime access to resources on individual tracts granted under the community system, such as grazing and gathering rights often granted during fallow period. Individual land ownership became more absolute, existing exclusive of the use to which the property was put and exclusive of community membership. 203

Lands that had once supplied resources to a community

now were fragmented into individual plots, sometimes of

absurdly small size, that effectively closed off access to

resources. Tracts that had been open to all community

members for part of the year became fully private domains,

fenced off both legally and physically. Most importantly,

the privatization of land changed the patterns of land use

as property became bounded by legal and ideological tenets

rather than by ecological realities.

The Degradation of Property

Thus, the repartos brought the degradation of the ecology of the Patzcuaro basin. But it was not a change in the physical landscape of the area; there was no serious

increase in soil erosion, deforestation, sedimentation, and the like. What was lost was the capability of the land to provide for the subsistence needs of basin residents because the new property regime had changed fundamentally the rela- tionship between the people and natural resources. The scholarship on the effects of the land laws of this period has tended to focus on the alienation of land, and the increasing need for the peasantry to work as day laborers.

Indeed, by the time of the Revolution as much as 90 percent of Mexico's indigenous population was landless. But alien- ation was in many cases a manifestation of the larger prob- lem of the land's declining capability. The Indians who had become private landowners under the reparto laws were unable 204

to eke out a living from their property, not because the

physical nature of the land had changed, but because their

relationship to the environment had changed.

As noted in Chapter Three, in the Patzcuaro basin

fields were sometimes sgueezed into small spaces among old

lava flows, and on two plots of the same size one tract

might be capable of producing much while the other was

capable of producing little. When the village allocated

community land to its members exclusive of state law, it was

possible to account for variations in land guality and

ensure that each family had sufficient land for its subsis-

tence. When state-mandated distribution was based primarily

on size, some villagers might be left relatively rich and others relatively poor, either immediately or over the long term. This was not always an issue with the tierras de repartimiento, which were often distributed based on older, village specifications. Communities that were relatively land rich could distribute one or more tracts to individual families such that each had land sufficient for basic sub- sistence. But communally-used lands divided in such a way, with absolute measurements, reflected shifts in resource use and control since resources were not distributed evenly over a given tract or within a particular territory.

In 1893 Maria Fernandez of Purenchecuaro sold her seven cuarterones of land for a mere fourteen pesos, while Maria

Marta Salvador of Tzirondaro sold her tract of five 205

cuarterones the same year for forty pesos. The difference

in price appears to be that the former included " una parte

montuosa . " In the village system, the Fernandez property

might have been sufficient for family subsistence being rich

in wood or other resources that could be traded or sold.

But buyers may have been interested only in the potential

for producing corn and wheat, which resulted in the higher

price for the smaller, but higher-quality, tract. The point

here is that even when the state recognized the old,

village-controlled tract boundaries, the market for land

could have an important impact on a family's wealth if and

when the land was sold. It is possible to imagine that, in

the above example, Fernandez came away impoverished compared

to Salvador, despite the fact that they may have been rela-

tively egual before their tracts were sold. 15

It is also possible that the land's use value declined

as its boundaries became fixed and its ownership became more

absolute. The value of land that previously had been used communally was a function of the availability of resources that could be exploited by the village members. But re- sources were scattered unevenly across a tract, and some parts of the tract might be rich in a particular resource, while other parts were barren. Further, some resources such as honey or turpentine might only be exploited effectively when they could be collected from a large area, often by the community as a group. A small plot with fixed boundaries .

206

simply does not yield enough of such resources to make their

extraction worth the effort for an individual owner, whereas

a buyer might be able to assemble a number of such plots

into a tract large enough to make resource exploitation viable. A small tract might provide grazing for a few head

of cattle, but the problem arises of keeping the cattle

contained. Under the community-controlled system, such

conflicts could be mediated locally, or prevented entirely, by having communal pasture separate from farm plots. Most communities in the basin had one or more communal pastures, which became subject to the repartos when state laws after

1902 called for their distribution. Dividing a pasture among individual owners, however, made it necessary to build

fences and walls, a task hardly worth the effort for one or two cows. The best option might be simply to sell the land to a neighbor or an outsider, especially if the plot was small

When the state decreed that community land be distrib- uted among individuals it made no provision for the vari- ability in land quality other than a vague notion about equitable distribution. Such decisions generally were left to the reparto commissions established in each community.

Consequently, tracts of equal size were sometimes carved out of the community's land base that often left families with small plots of little agricultural value. The tiny tract of

La Virgen in Tzirondaro was distributed to some 356 207 parcioneros, each receiving a plot of just over seventy-five

square meters, essentially worthless for agriculture or

other resource exploitation. 16 The village had complied with the letter of the law and protected itself from denuncia- tion, but had left individual families with insufficient

land for basic subsistence. The problem of miniscule tracts was experienced at many communities in the basin, and was expressed by the residents of nearby San Geronimo

Purenchecuaro who complained that "the lands of our proper- ties are in general of poor class and we sow them in small fractions distributed among all the indigenas to the degree that the harvest of maize raised on each one does not cover the consumption of the family." 7 Similarly, in 1906 the government was apparently pressing Erongaricuaro to complete the reparto of their remaining community land. The village pointed out that all that was left was land that "serves as the woodlot for the pueblo," which, when distributed, would leave each parcionero with "a small fraction of very meager

value, that could never provide the resources for . . . life." 18

Even in cases where relatively large tracts were dis- tributed, the growth of the extended family would eventually partition the land further. Before the land laws, when villages controlled land distribution and use, there were communal mechanisms for dealing with changing families circumstances. Additional monte could be apportioned, or 208

families that declined in size could have their allotment

reduced. The boundaries of individual plots were thus

flexible over the long term, and communal land could be

distributed, or not, as conditions warranted.

Such flexibility was lost when the state eliminated

community control and solidified the boundaries around

individual plots. A rising population combined with the new

property regime to inhibit the ability of the basin environ- ment to provide for the subsistence of residents in some

communities. Although population figures for the basin are

sketchy, it appears that the three pueblos on the northern

end of the lake more than doubled in size between 1822 and

1905. Other basin pueblos showed similar growth and some had less dramatic population increases. A few, however, may have declined in population, notably Tzintzuntzan. Conse-

quently, population pressure alone is an insufficient expla-

nation for the problems on the land in the basin. Although

the northernmost pueblos of Purenchecuaro, Tzirondaro, and

Santa Fe experienced considerable land alienation, communi- ties such as Tzintzuntzan and Erongaricuaro did as well, but

lacked the dramatic population increases. 19

Still, the documents show that within one or two gener- ations of a reparto, the heirs of the original parcionero often sold their inheritance, suggesting that it could no longer support the larger extended family. Paul in Lopez left a tract near Tzintzuntzan of less than one-third 209 hectare to his son Pedro and nephew Pablo; in 1893, the cousins sold the small plot for twelve pesos. The brothers

Santos and Librado Lira sold a plot of about three-quarters of a hectare in 1897 that they had inherited from their father, a parcionero of Tzintzuntzan. Similarly, in 1911

Anastasio, Francisco, and Juan Candelarios sold a small

"fraction" of land in Huecorio inherited from their grandfa- ther who had died eighteen years before. In the same year

Margarita, Avelina, and Tomas Talavera sold for thirty pesos a tract "acquired by inheritance from their late father

Quirino Talavera, who acquired it as a parcionero of the extinguished community of the mentioned pueblo of

Zurumutaro. 1120 Each of these tracts might have been able to support the original owner and his family, but it is un- likely that the heirs, now with families of their own, could eke out a living from such small plots. Selling became the best option for properties whose value in terms of providing subsistence declined or disappeared as the families grew.

On the other hand, the land's value as a commodity made it worth more to the owners when a willing buyer offered cash in exchange. Most of the tracts sold were quite small, and given that many were divided among various related families, they had little value in terms of use for subsistence. The largest plot sold by an indigena in 1893 was one-half fanega, or less than two hectares. Most, however, were smaller than one hectare; one " terreno de labor " sold in 210

1897 was only two liters or under eight hundred square

meters. 21

Privatization also meant a loss of access to and con-

trol over property for villages. Ihuatzio's residents, for

example, were incensed when a private entrepreneur opened a

road across the village's land to transport wood harvested

on the Cerro Tariaqueri to the lakeshore. 22 A large land-

owner apparently built a road across the planted fields of

the villagers of Tzirondaro in 1903, and the traffic of mules and carts destroyed some five cargas of the farmers' wheat. 23 On the other hand, Santa Fe complained about a private owner who intended to close a road that the commu-

nity used, and erect a fence around his "small property"

such that the villagers would be denied access to resources they had previously used. 24 As part of their long dispute,

Quiroga and Tzintzuntzan grappled over the rights to con-

struct roads and bridges giving access to resources in the disputed area. The Tzintzuntzehos argued that the "puente de Quiroga" over the bordering arroyo opened up their lands to use by outsiders. The value of their land was thus diminished for their own uses. 25

All of these examples represent a reduction in the capability of the environment to satisfy a particular use.

Although the physical landscape did not change dramatically, the conditions under which the resources of the basin could be used was altered in fundamental ways by the action of the state, or by those taking advantage of the state-mandated measures. Community control over resource use fell away and the individual proprietor became the nearly-sole decision maker on resource use issues. But the primary resource use activities were constrained by the declining ability of the environment to provide sufficient resources for family subsistence. Residents of the basin had to change their means of production in order to survive. As the sixty-two family heads of Cucuchucho pointed out in 1869, their "lands are so insignificant and of such little productivity that

[we] have to go outside in search of lands to rent. . .

The Process of La nd Alienation

Much of this study has dealt with ecological decision making, identifying the levels at which resource use deci- sions are made, from the individual to the state. For many in the basin, a basic decision was whether keeping their land was necessary, or even possible. Early in this period it might have been possible for individuals to find land available to rent, as indicated by the statement of the residents of Cucuchucho mentioned above. But as time pro- gressed, selling the property they had received in their reparto became increasingly common for the indigenas of the basin pueblos. Arguably, the decision to sell one's land had important implications for the individual's relationship

with the environment, and, conseguently , for the larger ecology of the region. It seems likely that by this time 212

the Indians understood that they were yielding all rights to

their property. The documents recording the transaction

were unambiguous; the seller generally granted to the buyer

"full ownership" and agreed to give up all uses of the

property "in a manner perpetual and irrevocable." Only when

the contracts specified such did the seller retain any

rights to use or repurchase the property. We must attempt

to answer, first, the basic question of why a decision of

such import was made and, second, how such a transaction was

carried out. The first part of the question is the more

difficult one. In the documents recording the land transac-

tions of the period there are seldom overt statements of why

an individual chose to sell his or her tract. We may,

however, conjecture about the motives for what appears, on

the surface, to be a dramatic change in lifeways.

The new form given to the property rights regime became

ecologically important because, among other reasons, it

facilitated the buying and selling of land—the transfer of property rights from one owner to another that had been

impossible, or at least difficult, under the former

community-based system. By 1902 the land laws of Michoacan

officially prohibited the Indians from selling the land they had received in their village repartos. Consistent with

liberal ideals, the government wanted land that was distrib- uted to individuals to remain as small, proprietary farms, and the state promulgated a circular detailing the prohibi- 213 tion of the sales of the village lands. 27 But for reasons explained above, the Indians sought to sell their land and there were freguent reguests to the government for permis- sion to sell the distributed tracts.

Land, of course, had been changing hands in one form or another for centuries, perhaps even in prehispanic times.

But the laws of the Liberal government of the Mexican repub- lic gave such transfers a new character by the end of the nineteenth century. There were two methods by which land could be transferred legally within the context of the land laws of this period. First, a tract could be denounced as baldio and purchased from the government at auction. Such denunciation was aimed primarily at unclaimed land or undis- tributed community property, and generally was imposed over any claims that might exist. The second method was the outright sale by an individual who had received the land in the reparto process. The selling of land can be seen as a response to the new property regime that was established by the national and state governments.

Although fear of denunciation no doubt influenced many villages' decisions to distribute their lands to private owners, it appears that relatively little land was auctioned off as baldio in Michoacan. There were only a few cases registered in the official periodical, as reguired under the law, and most did not take place within the Patzcuaro basin.

Although it might be argued that basin communities 214

effectively headed off the denunciation of their lands

through private distribution, it seems more likely that

there was little interest in basin lands by the local land-

owners, who generally sought large tracts for commercial

agriculture or stockraising. Further, the survey companies that operated during the Porfiriato concentrated their

efforts in those states with great expanses of land useful

for commercial enterprises; they generally ignored

Michoacan. 29

On the other hand, Indians frequently sold tracts that they had received themselves through repartos of community lands, or that they had inherited from parents who were

first generation parcioneros. When land titles or sales were recorded in the state property registry the original owner was required to state how the land had been acquired.

Most often such transactions noted that the property had been acquired "by inheritance" or "as an indigena of the ex-

community of. . ." . From the 1890s up to the Revolution, hundreds of land transactions are recorded in which Indians of Lake Patzcuaro villages sold their lands for cash. The outright sale appears common in which an Indian landowner gave up his or her rights to the property, received a cash payment, and often walked away landless.

The vast majority of the properties sold were origi- nally acquired in the repartos, either by the sellers them- selves or their parents. 29 The records show that sales beqan 215

immediately after lands were distributed to individuals. In

fact, as noted above, some groups of Indians asked for a reparto to be conducted in order to facilitate the sale of the property. Families sometimes held on to properties for considerable periods after the reparto had taken place before agreeing to a sale. We may assume, also, that some families never sold their lands, especially their houselots in the old fundo legal, which may have been retained up to the present day.

The use value of a property is also closely related to the life circumstances of the individual owner, which may change within or across generations. Juan, Anastacio, and

Guadalupe Perez received a tract in the reparto of

Purenchecuaro, but sold it in 1897. The sales contract

" " noted that the brothers were comerciantes ambulantes f traveling tradesmen; they obviously had little use for the hectare or so of pasture land. On the other hand, the forty pesos they received for the tract no doubt provided working capital for their commercial enterprise. 30

Fishermen generally could ply the open waters of the lake that were considered under national jurisdiction, but having shore areas was probably a necessity for profession- als in the trade. Since nets, often long seines, were used widely by this time the fishermen needed areas for boatwork, net repair, fish drying, and other related activities.

There are a number of cases in which land along lake edges 216 was sold by fishermen, presumably those who left the profes-

sion for one reason or another. In 1900 Severiano Hernandez

sold a "bank with water for fishing" on the island of

"Llunuan" (Yuenen) for sixteen pesos. The property appar- ently ran along the western edge of the island for some eighteen meters, but its depth is not given. 31 Similarly,

Maria Fernanda Medrano, an indigena of Tzintzuntzan, sold the lakeshore site inherited from her father to the fisher- man Narciso Picho in 1896 for twenty-seven pesos. Since women did not routinely engage in fishing as a profession, the land probably had little use value for Medrano. 32

At the bottom of most of these transactions was the obvious need for money, especially as the economy shifted from older systems of barter to a greater cash orientation.

Maria Ricarda Melchor had inherited a tract of land on the lakeshore from her father, an indigena of Tzintzuntzan. But in 1907 she said that her "meager resources" forced her to sell the property. 33 Similarly, a parcionero of

Purenchecuaro sought to sell his two tracts because of

"having to cover urgent family necessities." 34 On a few occasions, a village itself had to sell some of its land before distribution to cover community expenses. At some point before 1880 the indigenous community of Quiroga was involved in a costly legal conflict with the hacienda of

Tecacho and was forced to sell some of its land to pay for the litigation. 35 217

Taxes, in particular, were a concern in the years after

the land had been distributed. As noted above, land sub-

jected to a reparto was exempt from taxes for a period of

six years under the terms of the Michoacan state land laws.

After the exemption ran out, the landowners were required to

begin paying land taxes, a levy that was often beyond the

financial reach of many of the Patzcuaro basin villagers.

While some landowners may have had sufficient land for

subsistence, that does not mean that their tracts could

produce a surplus for sale. Unable to produce cash to pay

their taxes, the best, perhaps only, option was to sell.

Properties alienated during this period were sold to

many buyers, although there were a few who appeared to have

assembled relatively large holdings. On occasion, buyers

purchased a number of small tracts and assembled a larger

property within a relatively short time; indeed, on more

than one occasion, groups arranged the reparto of their land

and then sold their individual tracts en masse to a single buyer. On other occasions, however, buyers assembled their tracts over a number of years, purchasing individual tracts

from the parcioneros or their heirs. As noted previously, the Patzcuaro basin was not characterized by the vast land- holdings found in other parts of Mexico. So, while some individuals did assemble relatively large tracts, they could be measured in, at most, dozens of hectares. The motives for purchases probably included extraction, agriculture, 218 stockraising, speculation, or some combination of these.

The commercial agriculturalist Florentino Fraga bought lands and assembled a tract near Ihatzio probably for growing corn and wheat. On the other hand, the businessman Ignacio

Corona bought at least thirty such tracts between 1890 and

1907 from the indigenas of Erongaricuaro, apparently as commercial investments. He clearly was not interested in farming exclusively since the tracts included not only farmland, but pastures, woodlands, and house lots. 36 Both of

these buyers were local , as were most others during this period, with only an occasional property being sold to someone from outside the region.

But, it should be pointed out that not all of the buyers were local Creole or mestizo elites as Indians made up a large proportion of those acquiring land through pur- chase during this period. In such purchases, however, there probably was little change in the use to which the land was put. When Ricardo Yacata bought a lot on the island of

Jaracuaro from the hatmaker Feliciano Tomas, the buyer probably continued to use it as the original owner had.

Similarly, Domingo Quirino, an illiterate day laborer, managed to obtain sixteen pesos to buy a small plot in

Cucucucho from Josefa Ygnacia, a second-generation par- cionera of that village. 37 These are but two of many such cases where the buyer of a property can be clearly identi-

fied as an indigena from a basin village. 219

Further, sales contracts sometimes included a " pacto de retroventa " in which the seller could repurchase the prop- erty within a few years paying a specified higher price to reclaim his or her land. During the term of the contract, the seller could pay rent and continue to use the land, giving the transaction the character of a mortgage. At the end of the period, usually five years, if the seller could pay off the specified repurchase price, he would be able to retain his ownership in the land. 38

It would be wrong, then, to see the land laws as lead- ing directly and rapidly to the alienation of formerly- village property. Indians were common purchasers of indi- vidual properties during early part of this period, and were able to acquire land they lacked or to supplement lands they had received themselves in the reparto process. What be- comes evident in the two decades or so before the Revolu- tion, is that more lands were sold that had been acquired originally by purchase rather than in a reparto or by inher- itance from a first-generation parcionero. Thus, land alienation in many cases came in two stages. First, the first-generation parcionero or his heirs sold the land to another villager. Subsequently, the buyer sold the property to someone from outside. One might suppose that this pro- cess would have intensified had the Revolution not disrupted the economic patterns in the region. 220

Land alienation can be seen as an ecological decision related to the declining capability of the environment to provide subsistence under the new political and economic conditions. Given the hundreds of land transactions re- corded during this period, it seems clear that much of the landlessness often attributed to illegal alienation was in fact a logical decision given the circumstances in the basin.

There were, of course, numerous examples of outright usurpation and fraud perpetrated on the indigenous residents of the region. Both Brand and Foster report that during their research in the 1930s and 1940s, villagers recounted examples of land being usurped by individuals who obtained land by unscrupulous means.

The residents of Tzintzuntzan, in particular, seem to have lost considerable land in what was know as the "first usurpation" in the 1880s, and the "second usurpation" after the turn of the century. Although folk memory may exagger- ate the extent of outright land theft, the documents do show that many of the land transactions were conducted by the village representative, Andres Aparicio, an individual who generated much dissent among the Tzintzuntzenos. The vil- lage's land on the Cerro de Tariaqueri was sold or distrib- uted to outsiders "without our consent," according to a

39 group from the community in 1903 . Documents and reports indicated that Aparicio and other representatives bypassed the distribution of village lands to members, and sold directly to outsiders from the larger towns, especially

Patzcuaro and Quiroga. Even after a reparto had been con- ducted, the representative sometimes adjudicated land to someone other than the original claimant. A villager of

Chapitiro complained that the representative adjudicated a tract that his mother still occupied. 40 Leon Juan Couto of

Tzirondaro provided documentary evidence of his ownership since 1811 of a tract in the area known as Curecuaro to prevent it from being distributed in a 1908 reparto. 41

Far less common were cases in which hacendados usurped village lands. The documents reviewed here revealed few cases in which villagers complained about outright usurpa- tion of land by nearby haciendas. One case was identified in which the residents of Puacuaro complained that the owner of the hacienda of Napizaro had denied them the use of the woodlot and pastures that they had used for many years. 42

And the indigenas sometimes grappled over land with nearby ranchos as reported above. But generally, the lack of interest in hacienda agriculture and stockraising prevented these conflicts which were characteristic of other parts of

Mexico during this period.

Unfortunately, it is impossible to construct a complete land-loss record for the Patzcuaro basin during this period as the documentary record is far too fragmentary. Neverthe- less, it appears that most lands that passed from Indian )

222 ownership during this period did so through sale. Under the circumstances selling their land was a logical decision, rather than a case of theft.

Conclusion

Regardless of how landed property changed hands during this period, it is clear that by the second decade of the twentieth century most of the indigenous residents of the

Patzcuaro basin had become peones del campo f with little or no land. Those who retained their property had small tracts of little agricultural value; many were left with only a house lot in the village center. Subsistence agriculture as a full-time occuption diminished in the basin as the peas- antry turned to other sources to provide for the necessities of life.

In the documents recording land transactions, most of the buyers were listed as agriculturalists, who as a group were relatively small in number and came to control much of the land. For the two pertinent regions, Quiroga and

Patzcuaro, there were only a total of 219 agricultores in

the 1900 census. Comerciantes , merchants and the like, were also freguent purchasers of land, although they more often bought non-agricultural properties. On the other hand, sellers were generally those listed by a full-time craft

profession or as day laborers ( jornaleros and labradores .

These individuals came from the much larger group of "peons" that numbered over eight thousand at the time." 223

Although handicraft production had always been used to

supplement family income, by the early twentieth century villagers expanded their part-time production of ceramics, petates, and woodwork into the cottage industries that have come to characterize the basin villages. It is evident from the sales contracts of the first decade of the twentieth

century that many of the indigenous sellers were listed as having some profession, suggesting that they were not solely peasants who worked the land. 44 For properties in the vil-

lages along the north edge of the lake, sellers were often

listed as potters, woodworkers, and petate weavers. Each needed access to resources, but it is unlikely that the plots they received in village repartos always provided such

resources in sufficient quantity, if at all. Further, clay, wood, and tule reeds could be bought readily by this time,

so having communal or individual access to such raw materi-

als was not strictly necessary. Although it cannot be said with certainty that the changes in land tenure were the sole

cause of the expansion of handicraft production, it is clear that many former subsistence farmers turned to crafts during the period of these changes. 45

In the last fifty years of the nineteenth century the vast majority of the Indian population of Mexico became

laborers, either tied to a commercial agricultural enter- prise or hired on a daily wage, the latter more common in the Patzcuaro basin. About 75 percent of the family heads 224 were day laborers in 1910, working on the haciendas and ranchos to which they travelled once or twice a week.

Typically, the jornalero earned thirty-seven to fifty centa- vos daily, a figure probably insufficient to provide for a family of five.' 6 They continued to rely on their kitchen gardens and supplementary work in crafts.

As noted previously, haciendas were not characteristic of the basin, but a few did expand into the lake zone or nearby during the nineteenth century, notably Ibarra,

Tecolote, and Chapultepec toward the south side of the lake, and Bellas Fuentes to the north. Tzurumutaro, just north- east of Patzcuaro city, had an indigenous community but has also been idenfied as a hacienda. This may have been one of the few instances in the basin of a village of laborers resident on a hacienda, known as acasillados . According to

West, the southern haciendas had a closer relationship with the pueblos near Patzcuaro city, which accounts for the more-rapid decline of Tarascan monoligualism and other cultural elements among the south shore villages. 47

More common in the basin, and throughout the Michoacan

Tarascan zone, were ranchos, small to middle sized farms of at least ten hectares and employing several to several-dozen laborers; often all labor was provided by the owner and his family. Many of these ranchos were formed out of the prop- erties acquired from the villagers, some were no doubt owned by Tarascans who had acquired properties from their 225 neighbors. Michoacan had the second highest number of such properties of all the states in 1910 with 4,138 according to census figures. Only Jalisco, just to the north of

Michoacan, had more ranchos. The prevalence of ranchos in this area is not surprising, for, as McBride notes, "the hilly districts where tillable ground is found in small, widely separated plots do not lend themselves to the forma- tion of haciendas but are generally occupied by ranchos." 48

Thus, the Tarascan peasants of the Patzcuaro basin came to have a less-direct relationship with the environment in which they lived. Whereas previously they had consumed most of what they produced, or traded it with their neighbors, they now sold their labor or the goods they manufactured in their homes. They were no longer relatively independent farmers, but laborers dependent on wages and markets over which they had no control. The landholding pueblo declined in its role of providing a structure for the exploitation of resources; it often remained only as a geographic expression of settlement or a center for social life.

Notes

'Foster, Empire's Children , 172.

2 Periodico Oficial (Aug. 5, 1885), 4.

3 AHPEM, Morel ia, 12, July 6, 1903; This case is dis- cussed further below. See also £Q, 25 April 1885, page 4; and AHPEM, Patzcuaro, 12:93-113 for a case in which the village's representative improperly cut trees on the commu- nity's lands.

'AHPEM, , 1:286-300. .

226

5AHPEM, Morelia, 12:187-354, July 18, 1903. The list of those who paid their fees (Ibid, July 31, 1903) shows that the lots were distributed to family heads.

6 AHPEM, Morelia, 35:234-279, Aug. 29, 1893.

'Carrasco, Tarascan Folk Religion: An Analysis of

Economic , Social and Religious Interactions f (New Orleans: Middle American Research Institute, Tulane, 1952), 47.

8 Ibid, 57.

'This situation is bound up with the whole issue of the separation of church and state fomented under Liberal gov- ernment. Under colonial rule, possibly in prehispanic times as well, religion and government were connected, with civil leadership often occupying the important lay religious posts. In the nineteenth century, the position of the Church eroded along with the community, which had implica- tions for all aspects of folk culture and the property regime. See Carrasco, Tarascan Folk Religion : and Marjorie Becker, Setting the Virgin on Fire: Lazaro Cardenas, Michoacan Peasants, and the Redemption of the Mexican Revo- lution (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1995)

10 AHPEM, Morelia, 8, Sept. 19, 1903.

;1 AHPEM, Morelia, 35:359-377, March 15, 1898.

12 AHPEM, Morelia, 8, May 8, 1903.

13 AHPEM, Patzcuaro, 2, May 17, 1882; see also the case of some thirty-five indigenas of Quiroga who sought the lands they claimed to possess " en comun ," apparently sepa- rately from the rest of the village, AHPEM, Morelia, 3, July 10, 1873.

14 AHPEM, Morelia, 8:59-363, April 27, 1907.

15 AHN, Escrituras Privadas . Quiroga, April 14, 1893, April 28, 1893.

16AHPEM, Morelia, 12:187-354, July 18, 1903.

17 AHPEM, Morelia, 5:194-282, March 12, 1880.

18 AHPEM, Patzcuaro, 4:206-224, July 18, 1906.

19 For population figures for 1822 see Juan Jose Martinez de Lejarza, Analisis Estadlstico de la Provincia de

Michuacan en 1822 (Morelia: Fimax, 1974) ; for 1905 see the national census for that year. " "

227

20 Escrituras Privadas (1893) Primo Serrania, Quiroga records the Lopez transaction. For the Lira sale see EE (1897) Quiroga. For the Candelarios case, Reaistro Publico (29) #1722, April 7, 1911, the plot was only ninety meters in length and of indeterminate width because of its "irregu- lar" form. Its selling price of ten pesos suggests its small size. The Talavera case is found in RE (30) #1868, Aug. 20, 1911. See also the Ellas transaction, recorded in EE (31) #2014, Feb. 10, 1894. This sale took place more than a decade before the official reparto date for Erongaricuaro of 1906, suggesting once again the drawn-out process that characterized many of the village repartos in the basin.

21 Escrituras Privadas . June 26, 1897. These figures refer to properties other than house lots, or solares , which were routinely measured in sguare meters or varas .

"AHPEM, Patzcuaro, 2, Nov. 9, 1900. By this time the steamship was operating on the lake and it is likely that the railroad ties were being brought to a wharf for shipment to a railroad construction site. The letter suggests that the land on which the wood was being harvested belonged to Tzintzuntzan, only the road was at issue for Ihuatzio.

23 AHPEM, Morelia, 12:187-354, July 25, 1903.

24 AHPEM, Morelia, 1:24-165, Feb. 22, 1904. See also the similar case in which Quiroga complained in 1873 about the renter of their land who "installed two gates on the road that crosses the property," in AHPEM, Morelia, 35:1-32.

"AHPEM, Morelia, 8:59-363, Jan. 9, 1878.

"AHPEM, Morelia, 35:199-200, March 11, 1869.

27 AHPEM , Morelia, 20:198-233, "Circular No. 19 r Relativa a las prohibicion para vender bienes de las extinauidas comunidades indlgenas. Ano 1902.

28 See Robert Holden, Mexico and the Survey of Public Lands: The Management of Modernization, 1876-1911 (DeKalb,

IL: Northern Illinois University Press, 1994) . The Peri- odico Oficial (111:134) March 19, 1880 records a denuncia- tion for the "Cerro de Ojo de Agua" located to the west of Erongaricuaro. The legal notice provided little additional information other than that the land was "purely of monte . There were no subseguent notices of challenges to the denun- ciation, as seen in other cases, by residents of nearby communities, such as (AHPEM, Morelia, 2:1-29) and Chucandiro (Ibid, 63:127). 228

"There does not appear to be a complete run of records for land sales during this period, but notaries recorded many hundred such transfers in the decades before the Revo- lution. Not all of the transactions involved lands distrib- uted in the repartos. In 1893 perhaps five percent of the lands sold had been acquired by purchase. See AHN, Escri- turas Privadas. Primo Serrania, Quiroga, 1893.

30 Escrituras Privadas Quiroga, April 11, 1897. r

31 AHN, Registro Publico (1911), #1827, March 27, 1906.

" Escrituras Privadas (1896), July 30, 1896. In the Medrano sale, the buyer, Picho, was from "La Vuelta," the region along the lakeshore west of Tzintzuntzan, an area with a strong fishing tradition, according to Foster.

33 AHPEM, Morelia, 8:59-363, Feb. 26, 1907.

34 AHPEM, Morelia, 1:1-23, Aug. 14, 1906.

35 AHPEM , Morelia, 3:207-296, July 13, 1880.

36A11 of Corona's transactions are found in Registro Publico (30), 1911, Patzcuaro.

37 Reaistro Publico (30) #1942, Oct. 22, 1910; BE (29) #1773, Aug. 2, 1904.

38 How often sellers were able to repurchase their lands in such a transaction is unknown. The documents do not contain any records of such repurchases. Most such transac- tions came on the eve of the revolution, and subsequent land reform probably effectively voided these arrangements.

39 See AHN, Escrituras Publicas . 1896 and 1897 for exam- ples of sales conducted by Aparicio, and AHPEM, Morelia, 8, May 18, 1903. Although acting as the agent of the village, Aparicio was the subject of attempts by some in the commu- nity to reject him in this role, as noted previously. See also Foster's account in Empire's Children , 171-173, which is based on interviews conducted in the early 1940s, and may exaggerate the extent to which lands were illegally taken.

"AHPEM, Morelia, 35:359-377, Feb. 2, 1898.

41AHPEM, Morelia, 12:187-344, Aug. 22, 1908.

42 AHPEM, Morelia, 35:381-391, May 1, 1869. "

229

"Secretaria de Fomento, Colonizacion e Industria, "Division Territorial de la Repiiblica Mexicana formada con los datos del Censo Verificado el 28 de Octubre de 1900, Estado de Michoacan," 1905, 50-51, 198-199.

"Women, it should be noted, were routinely listed in sales documents as having no profession "because of her sex.

"See West's analysis of Tarascan handicrafts (56-71,) and Brand (166-188.)

"Enrique Florescano, Historia General de Michoacan (Morelia: Instituto Michoacano de Cultura, 1989), 112.

,7 There were some 380 haciendas in the entire state of Michoacan in 1910, but most were found in the flatter areas of the tierra caliente or to the northeast and the fertile Bajio region. See George M. McBride, The Land Systems of Mexico (New York: American Geographical Society, 1923), 78, 140-142.

"McBride, 99. CHAPTER 7

CONCLUSION

By the nineteenth century the property regime was an amalgam blended from indigenous lifeways, European institu- tions, and local environmental conditions. Basin ecology evolved under conditions in which imperial structures,

Tarascan then Spanish, imposed to a considerable degree the rights and rules by which resources were exploited. There seems little doubt that Tarascan peasants understood Euro- pean concepts of land ownership and use. Indeed, as in most of Mexico, the Indian villages themselves were often created by the Spanish colonial government and most aspects of local culture gradually incorporated American and European ele- ments. Most important for this investigation, the local understanding of property was crafted in the context of the larger political economy, and provided in large measure the means by which the state impacted upon the local ecology.

This study has shown that in the Patzcuaro basin indi- viduals had long held a proprietary interest in the land they used. At the same time, the collective utilization of resources was basic to Tarascan folk culture. Collective and individual tenure were compatable in the basin and shaded into each other in ways that were determined in large

230 231

measure by the particular conditions of the lake zone. What

has been called "communal" property was, therefore, a com-

plex system that should not be characterized in a one-dimen-

sional way, as the literature has often done. Nevertheless,

community membership was a fundamental part of Tarascan

life, and the subsistence of the basin residents depended on

collective or communal structures and institutions for the

utilization of resources in the lake zone.

According to the literature, in the nineteenth century

land ceased to be "communally" owned and became "privately"

owned. But this study suggests that it would be wrong to

see the adoption of the Liberal property regime as an "at-

tack" on communal tenure. Rather, liberal ideology fostered

an alteration in the complicated system for using, maintain-

ing, and controlling resources that incorporated collective tenure and individual usufruct.

On a political level, it was not national government

action that had the primary direct impact on the property

regime in the Patzcuaro basin, but that of Michoacan state.

In 1856 the Reforma government sought to reduce community

land essentially to the ejido and fondo legal. Rulings

later in the year reaffirmed the distribution of all land outside the communally-used properties of the pueblos,

including the tierras de repartimiento. For the national government, then, an Indian community could continue to exist with communal resources still available to the 232

villagers, as long as apportioned or rented lands were

distributed under the terms of the national measures.

Although the Constitution of 1857 failed to include a provi-

sion for the ejido, various rulings and decrees suggested

that users of the lands had first claims to them, which

often would seem to favor the Indians.

It was only with the restoration of the Mexican Repub-

lic in 1867 that the long-sought distribution of communal

property would begin in the Patzcuaro basin. Michoacan

state officials sought to encourage privatization at the

expense of village landholding by first intensifying its

demands that the repartos take place. Then, in an unprece-

dented step, the state ordered that the Indian communities

be legally extinguished. Finally, in 1902, the state pro-

mulgated a law that brought together and strengthened many

of the earlier measures and specified the means for removing

the ejido and fondo legal from community control.

As Charles Berry found for Oaxaca, the Michoacan expe-

rience differs in many ways from the general picture out-

lined for Mexico. It seems likely that further research

will show that the impact of these changes in the property

regime was diverse across space and time. We can say that

the ideological currents of the nineteenth century clearly

informed the effort to change the system of property in the basin, but the process was complicated by local-level social and environmental factors, such as the lack of large-scale 233 commercial agriculture in the Patzcuaro basin and the pres- ence of the lake with its fisheries and other resources.

This study has emphasized that the changes discussed were part of the long-term ecological evolution of the basin. Since at least the fourteenth century, various

formal structures and systems have governed the use of basin

resources by resident human populations. When the land tenure changes came in the late nineteenth century, concep- tions of sovereignty and individual rights changed. Commu- nity sovereignty eroded to a great degree and individual ownership was strengthened as villagers took advantage of official measures for formalizing their rights to land in the basin. Scholars have routinely focussed on the issue of land alienation during this period, the idea being that

Indians lost their land when this shift from communal to private ownership took place. But given that some form of individual usufruct existed long before the liberal land laws, the greater issue is that the privatization of tenure changed the patterns of land use. Access to resources was lost and land that might have had use value in the old community-based system became worthless in a regime where property was bounded by legal and ideological tenets rather than ecological realities.

The repartos fostered tensions in the basin both within and between the communities. The evidence indicates that land distribution was often seen as a threat to community 234

sovereignty. Villages argued over tracts that they believed

belonged to their members, and called upon the state to

resolve what were most often boundary disputes. The problem

was that the land laws required rigid boundaries in order to

distribute tracts to individuals. Communities, on the other

hand, were more concerned with usufruct, and in the absence of conflicts over resources, seldom concerned themselves with highly-specific borders between territories. Simi-

larly, individuals squabbled over tracts that they claimed by right of community membership and long-term use or occu- pation. Clearly, individuals were willing and eager to accept formal title to their tracts and turned to the gov- ernment for support of their claims.

Although there appeared to be some disputes between communities and the state government, there was mimimal active resistance to the repartos by the early twentieth century. Villages and their members seemed to accept the new property regime and the formalization of individual ownership of property. There are early reports of violent opposition or defiance in the basin, but communities either became resigned to land distribution or individuals saw it as a way to further their own interests. When they ex- pressed their grievances or requests to the government, the indigenous villagers relied on the socio-political language of the Liberal leadership, aided by Spanish-speaking elites, that encompassed the liberal conception of property. .

Once the land was in private hands, and the indigenous

communities had been legally eliminated, tracts were rapidly

alienated from those who had received them in the repartos.

Scholarship on other areas or Mexico generally indicated widespread fraud or other illegal usurpation of the land

distributed to the Indians. But in Michoacan it appears far more common that land was sold voluntarily by the basin

residents who had received it under the land distribution laws

Various scholars have approached these issues in the past, but they seldom have attempted to determine the his- torical connections between ecology and property regimes.

Typically, research has confined itself to concerns about the effects on social groups of deteriorating and exhausted resources. This study, however, has attempted to take a broader view by seeing degradation as a decline in the capability of resources to sustain residents of an environ- ment. In the basin, people sold their land because it often lost its usefulness to them. That is to say, land became degraded because the new property regime had altered the ability of the property to provide for the subsistence of lake zone residents. Tracts available to individuals became smaller, too small for agriculture, or were bounded in such a way that resources could not be effectively exploited. The new property regime combined with the growing population to alter in fundamental ways the ecology of the lake zone. 236

Since the availability of land governed in large mea-

sure the way time and space were used, we may assume that

the lack of usable land altered the basin ecology in funda-

mental ways. For example, attitudes about conservation,

about maintaining the productivity of the environment for

future generations, became unimportant to farm laborers who

had no land to bequeath. Migration became an option for

some as the basin no longer provided sufficient land for

subsistence production and Tarascan peasants began to look

outside the zone for employment. Gender roles altered as

men moved into craft occupations formerly undertaken only by

women. Social differentiation increased as some members

acquired relatively more valuable property while others were

left with land of little use value.

All of these changes, and the others mentioned in this

study, represent the ecological evolution experienced in the

basin in the century or so before the Revolution. The

Patzcuaro experience demonstrates the ecological role of

property rights. As noted in Chapter One, property regimes

are mechanisms for linking human and environmental systems;

the rules and duties associated with property determine in

large measure the nature of the relationship between a people and the environment they inhabit. In the basin during the period under study, the property regime changed, therefore, the ecology changed. The character, the form, and the structure of the human residents' relationship with 237 the natural environment of the basin was reorganized in response to the new regime and other factors such as population growth.

We should not, however, see this as a "watershed event" but as a part of a continuing process. Ecological changes of this nature seldom can be dated precisely. It was noted that in Michoacan the most active period of land distribu- tion ocurred between 1869 and 1910. But the intellectual basis for defining property, a fundamental part of a group's ecological knowledge, was forged over centuries. Had Euro- pean forms of land ownership been entirely alien to the

Tarascans it is unlikely that they would have dealt with the distribution efforts as they did, and the ecology of the basin would have evolved along different lines.

Joan Martinez-Alier has argued that "some social strug-

gles by poor people . . . can be understood also as ecologi- cal struggles", and they "have been geared to defend access to natural resources." 1 In Mexico the period of the liberal land tenure changes was closed by the great Revolution that swept the country beginning in 1910. There is no guestion that an important component of the Revolution was the recov- ery of land lost in the previous decades. Many of the revolutionaries had as their goal the removal of property from the generalized market system into which it had been inserted. Although many of the Tarascan landowners had accepted the repartos fairly willingly, they often believed 238

they had no choice or failed to see the long-term conse-

quences. When the ecology degraded to such an extent that

basic subsistence was threatened, Mexican peasants sought to

restore a moral and ecological economy that had been dis-

rupted by the state.

This study raises a number of questions for future

research. First, the investigation needs to be carried

forward in time to encompass the attempts to restore the

land to the peasantry after the Constitution of 1917 and

during the administration of Lazaro Cardenas. The study

should also be broadened geographically to include the

larger Tarascan cultural area. Environmentally, the

Patzcuaro basin was somewhat different from other areas of

the state, and escaped most of the depredations of the

hacendados experienced elsewhere. Consequently, a cultural

approach might yield a perspective that would provide a more

useful analysis for comparason with other regions of the

country and the world.

More generally, we should examine further the histori-

cal relationship between property rights and ecology. Such

research would have important implications for dealing with

present day ecological concerns. An understanding of how a

particular people reacted to ecological and social change in

the past helps us make predictions about how such changes will affect future generations. 2 Dharam Ghai has mentioned

the "paucity of information on the linkages between 239 ecological and social process at the local level." 3 This study had been an attempt in that direction, but there remains much to be learned about the factors that influence human relationships with the environments in which they live. As argued here, property regimes and ecological systems coevolve; the changes experienced in the Patzcuaro basin cannot be separated from the contemporary lives of the

Tarascan people." Consequently, the study of how our pres- ent ecologies came to be the way they are affects in funda- mental ways our understanding of humanity's place in the world.

Notes

'Joan Martinez-Alier , "Ecology and the Poor: A Ne- glected Dimension of Latin American History," Journal of Latin American Studies 23 (October 1991), 621.

2 See Nancy M. Williams and Graham Baines. Traditional

Ecological Knowledge; Wisdom for Sustainable Development . Canberra: Centre for Resource and Environmental Studies,

1993 .

3 Dharam Ghai, "Environment, Livelihood and Empower- ment," Development and Change 25 (1994), 1.

4 For general comments on this theme see ibid , William Cronon, "The Uses of Environmental History," Environmental History Review 17 (Fall 1993), 1-22, and Jay Antle, "Ecology and Environmental History, ASEH News 7 (Winter 1996), 1-2; for specific property rights issues see Mario Fandino, "Land Titling and Peasant Differentiation in Honduras," Latin American Perspectives 20 (Spring 1993), 45-53. : :: ::

APPENDIX NINETEENTH-CENTURY AGRICULTURAL MEASURMENTS

Length

Legua (league) : 4190 meters Vara: .838 meters

Agricultural Su rface Area

Vara cuadrada: .702244 square meters Sitio de ganado mayor: 1755.61 hectares Sitio de ganado menor: 780 hectares Caballeria: 42.795 hectares Fanega de sembradura de maiz: 3.5663 hectares Cuartillo: 8,915.5 square meters

Hectarea: 25.5 liters de sembradura Cuartilla: 22.6 liters de sembradura Almud 7.5 liters de sembradura Cuarteron: 3.75 liters de sembradura

Units of Capacity 1

Carga 181.6297 liters Fanega 90.8148 liters Almud: 7.5679 liters Cuartillo: 1.8919 liters

Units of Weight

Almud 5.6 kilograms Arroba: 11.506 kilograms Carga 136-140 kilograms Cuarteron: 1.4-2.8 kilograms Fanega 68-70 kilograms

Source: Periodico Oficial IV:37 (May 7, 1896); Brand,

Ouiroga , 132.

'Units of capacity and weight are expressed for maize. Other measures may apply for wheat, broadbeans, etc. See Brand for further explanation.

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BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH

Mark Smith received his Bachelor of Arts degree from the University of Central Florida in 1975, and his Master of

Arts from the University of Florida in 1992. He is a member of the American Historical Association and the American

Society for Environmental History. He intends to continue researching, writing, and teaching history with an emphasis on the complex relationship between human society and the natural world. ^

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 deqree of Doctor of Philosophy.

Murdo J/. . MacLeod . ^ha irman Graduate Research Professor of History

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.

Robert w. McMahon Professor of History

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.

David Geggus V Professor of History

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.

Abraham Goldman Associate Professor of Geography

This dissertation was submitted to the Graduate Faculty of the Department of History in the College of Liberal Arts and Sciences and to the Graduate School and was accepted as partial fulfillment of the requirements of the degree of Doctor of Philosophy.

August 1997 Dean, Graduate School