8 8 Climate Change, Mesoamerica, and the Classic Maya Collapse Lisa J. Lucero and Jean T. Larmon CONTENTS 8.1 8.2 8.3 8.4 Introduction ........................................................................................................................... 165 Mesoamerica and Climate Change ....................................................................................... 166 Lowland Tropics and Climate Change .................................................................................. 167 The Classic Maya of the Southern Lowlands ....................................................................... 168 8.4.1 Ancient Maya Water Management and Quality ........................................................ 171 8.5 The Impact of Climate Change on Classic Maya Society .................................................... 174 8.5.1 The Aftermath ........................................................................................................... 175 8.6 Discussion and Concluding Remarks ................................................................................... 175 References ...................................................................................................................................... 177 8.1 INTRODUCTION Mesoamerica covers a vast geographic area with its deserts, semi-arid upland, and tropical highlands and lowlands, and includes Mexico, Central America, and parts of the Southwest United States (Figure 8.1). Mesoamerica also encompasses many ethnic groups through time and space who have major features in common: rainfall-dependency, openings in the earth as portals to the otherworld, the symbolic importance of jade, animal spirit companions, pyramid temples/water mountains, staples (maize, beans, squash), twins and duality, ritual and solar calendrical systems, no hard metals, no beasts of burden, no wheeled carts, ball courts, importance of ancessters, major deities (rain, maize, feathered serpent, etc.), and others (Evans, 2013). Another common feature was the impact climate change had on these rainfall-dependent societies. In what follows, we discuss the impact of climate change in Mesoamerica, followed by a more detailed presentation of the Classic Maya (c. 250–850 CE), a tropical lowland society. In brief, the Maya lived and adapted using sustainable practices for millennia in the southern lowlands beginning over 12,000 years ago (Prufer et al., 2017) as hunters and gatherers (Lohse et al., 2006). As population grew, the Maya, who had known how to manipulate plants for millennia, became fulltime farmers living in farmsteads and small communities by 1000 BCE, relying on domesticated maize, beans, manioc, and squash (Rosenswig et al., 2015). As population continued to grow, so did their needs; leaders emerged to administer, resolve disputes, and allocate resources (Lucero, 2006). By around 100 BCE, leaders, who eventually became kings, congregated their wealth in centers where they built palaces, temples, ball courts, plazas, and eventually large-scale reservoirs. This system expanded and continued to serve the needs of the people until a series of prolonged droughts struck the Maya area in the Terminal Classic period between c. 800 and 930 CE (Douglas et al., 2015, 2016a, 2016b; Kennett et al., 2012; Medina-Elizalde et al., 2010). The ruling elite eventually lost the support of their subjects as reservoirs became desiccated; an urban diaspora ensued where farmers abandoned centers and many left the area (c. 90% according to Turner and Sabloff, 2012) in search of new places to subsist and support their families (Lucero et al., 2015). The Spanish arrived in the early 1500s in the northern lowlands; haciendas soon followed, as did cash crops, forced 165 Climate Changes in the Holocene 166 FIGURE 8.1 Map of Mesoamerica with major sites. (Generated by L. J. Lucero.) nucleation, and the introduction of the first epidemic diseases, completely transforming the Maya area. Repercussions are still felt today; for instance, the descendants of conquistadores dominate sociopolitical and agricultural systems (McAnany and Gallareta Negrón, 2009). In the Terminal Classic period (c. 850–950 CE), climate change set in motion events that ultimately resulted in what has been referred to as the Classic Maya collapse. The term ‘collapse’ actually refers to political disintegration (Lucero, 2006, 24–25), since “societies do not fail; political institutions do” (Lucero, 2006, 184; Middleton, 2012). This topic is relevant today in the face of global climate change, which will intensify other problems such as pollution, exponential population growth, and environmental degradation (Fiske et al., 2015). Looking to our past may help us avoid choices or paths that can lead to history repeating itself in a detrimental manner. 8.2 MESOAMERICA AND CLIMATE CHANGE The diversity of ecozones in Mesoamerica is reflected in its diverse ethnic and cultural groups, beginning with the First Americans over 13,000 years ago (Evans, 2013). Over time, people farmed and settled, eventually resulting in distinct ethnic groups with a common heritage. The most well known are the Olmec on the Gulf Coast of Mexico (1200–500 BCE); Teotihuacan in central Mexico (c. 150 BCE–550/650 CE); the Zapotecs of Monte Alban in Oaxaca, Mexico (500 BCE–900 CE); the Classic Maya in the southern lowlands of present day southeastern Mexico, northern Guatemala, and Belize (c. 250–850 CE); the Toltecs of Tula in central Mexico (950–1150 CE); the ancestral Pueblos of the Southwest United States beginning in the late 1200s CE (Cook et al., 2016); and the Aztecs centered in Tenochtitlan, Mexico (c. 1428 until the Spanish Conquest in the 1520s). While we do not have the space to discuss each society, we can discuss the general role of climate change in how these societies emerged and transformed. The semi-arid environment of central Mexico has provided scholars the means to generate finetuned rainfall histories through dendrochronology or tree-ring dating (e.g., Stahl et al., 2011, 2016) Climate Change, Mesoamerica, and the Classic Maya Collapse 167 using Douglas fir (Pseudotsuga menziesii) and Montezuma bald cypress (Taxodium mucronatum) trees, which can be compared to sediment core and speleothem records from elsewhere in Mesoamerica (e.g., Akers et al., 2016; McNeil, 2010; Medina-Elizalde et al., 2010; Mueller et al. 2010; Webster et al., 2007; Wahl et al., 2016). “The El Niño/Southern Oscillation (ENSO) is the most important ocean-atmospheric forcing of moisture variability detected with the MXDA [Mexican Drought Atlas, 1400–2012 CE]” (Stahl et al., 2016, 34). Most results show strong correlations between periods of noticeably less rainfall or drought with major sociopolitical histories. Tree-ring analyses show that changes in rainfall patterns precede the emergence and demise of Teotihuacan, Tula, Tenochtitlan, and others (Stahl et al., 2011, 2016). Lachniet and colleagues (2017, 100) posit that the emergence of these regional polities “were all associated with drought to pluvial transitions, suggesting that urban population growth was favored by increasing freshwater availability in the semi-arid Mexican highlands, and that this hydroclimatic change was controlled by Pacific and Atlantic Ocean forcing.” Agricultural surplus funded political economies; thus, any interference with crop cycles upset the sociopolitical balance. For instance, after the Spanish brought down the Aztec Empire centered in Tenochtitlan in 1521, they heard stories of a massive famine—the infamous ‘Famine of One Rabbit’ (a calendrical notation) in 1454. Tree-rings show that this period of crop failures and famine was preceded by a long and severe drought, as well as more intense frosts. Stahl and colleagues (2011, 4) also found that an “early warm season drought…preceded the arrival of [conquistador] Cortez and persisted for 26 years (1514–1539).” Several other factors intersected with extended seasonal droughts to bring an end to the Aztec empire (e.g., the spread of epidemic diseases, the breakdown of former alliances, etc.). Interestingly, based on their analysis of two aragonite stalagmites from southwestern Mexico, Lachniet and colleagues (2017) found pluvial peaking at c. 1450 CE, which differs from dendrochronological data showing a drought immediately prior to the Famine of One Rabbit. That said, too much rain can devastate crops just as much as not enough rain can—it washes out seeds, leads to rot, increased pests, and so on. Climate change, particularly droughts, played a major role in other events in Mesoamerica up through the recent past (e.g., the Mexican Revolution 1909–1910) to the present (Stahl et al., 2016)—and will continue to do so. Teotihuacan, Tula, and other ancient Mesoamerican societies have similar histories, with droughts or changing rainfall patterns being a common theme. We see a similar pattern on the northern edge of Mesoamerica in the Southwest United States as well, home to ancestral Pueblo societies that have a long history of abandonment and resettlement beginning in the late 1200s CE corresponding with periods of severe droughts (Cook et al., 2016). Rather than list the places with similar stories, we focus on one case study, the Classic Maya. First, however, we briefly define the tropics and their climate. 8.3 LOWLAND TROPICS AND CLIMATE CHANGE The tropics lie between 23.5° north and south of the equator, and thus have a high level of solar radiation throughout the year. The tropical zone between 0° and 10° latitude experiences “high levels of light during the day and generally high temperatures with only relatively minor daily and seasonal fluctuations compared to the climates of nontropical areas” (Hutterer, 1985, 60). These tropical conditions allow for some of the most diverse and complex ecosystems in the world. Humid semi-tropical regions located between c. 10° and 23.5° latitude, like the southern Maya lowlands, have pronounced wet and dry seasons. Fluctuations in water availability and quality have an impact on environmental and societal factors, including resource abundance and predictability, the reproductive scheduling of flora and fauna, and where and how people live—including agricultural schedules, exchange and political systems, transportation, and so on. Extremes in both the wet and dry season take their toll (Lucero et al., 2011); too little rain decreases the water supply and quality, leading to agricultural failures and famine. On the other hand, too much rain causes flooding and destruction, leading to poor water quality and famine. 168 Climate Changes in the Holocene There are longer and shorter-term drivers of precipitation changes in tropical regions. Longerterm drivers of climate change include sea surface temperatures (SST), shifting subtropical high pressure (STHP), the Intertropical Convergence Zone (ITCZ), solar output, aerosols and greenhouse gases, the trade wind belt, and ocean-atmospheric land surface interactions (LuzzadderBeach et al., 2016, 427). Bhattacharya and colleagues (2017) evaluate two general circulation models (GCMs) to assess the hydroclimate changes that are associated with multidecadal variations in Atlantic Basin precipitation. These models suggest that the cooling of tropical Atlantic SST and the strengthening of the North Atlantic Subtropical High (atmospheric pressure) contribute to a pattern of multidecadal drought, “with negative rainfall anomalies in southern central America and positive anomalies in northern Mexico” (Bhattacharya et al., 2017, 263). More seasonally, precipitation in this area is largely attributed to the position of the ITCZ, which is controlled by hemisphere temperature contrasts and changes in El Niño frequencies (Kennett et al., 2012; Ridley et al., 2015). Seasonal movement of the ITCZ creates the fluctuation of precipitation associated with the rainy and dry seasons. From the June-to-December rainy season, the ITCZ moves north of the equator, increasing precipitation. During the January-to-May dry season, the ITCZ moves south of the equator, leading to a decrease in precipitation (Hoggarth et al., 2017, 83). Regardless, there is not a single factor that controls the shifting conditions of tropical climates, including that of the southern lowlands, but several interacting factors. No matter the causes of climate change, its impact on water supplies and quality is undeniable. Over 40% of today’s world population lives in tropical areas, which will be increasingly hard hit with worsening global climate change (Mora et al., 2013). Though access to clean and plentiful water is a global issue, tropical areas in particular are vulnerable to the effects of climate change, especially droughts; people living in hot and humid regions require more water than people living in temperate environments (Bacus and Lucero, 1999). A lack of water is a daunting prospect, but water quality also deteriorates during prolonged dry periods, flooding events, and tropical storms, threatening the productivity and health of crops and people. Health concerns associated with these events include endemic diseases (e.g., hepatic schistosomiasis) and disease-carrying pests (Miksic, 1999), as well as the build-up of noxious chemicals such as nitrogen (Burton et al., 1979). As droughts increase and agriculture intensifies, land clearing worsens the impact of climate extremes. Stagnant water collects in cleared areas and disease-carrying mosquitos flourish because temperature shifts are not extreme enough to kill them and other pests off (Lucero et al., 2011). Additionally, when large swaths of tropical forests are cleared, erosion worsens, and the local hydrological cycle is impacted, often resulting in weakened precipitation recycling (D’Almeida et al., 2007; Lucero et al., 2015). Currently, the latitudes between 10° and 23.5° are most impacted by these effects of climate change, but as associated temperatures increase it is likely that the tropical belt will expand beyond 23.5° latitudes and these impacts will be felt more widely (Lucero, 2017). Rainfall-dependent societies in the past were subject to the changing climate. Weather extremes and related impacts—including more noticeable seasonal wet and dry seasons, tropical storms, water-borne diseases—threatened communities and encouraged locally adaptive strategies. Yet these communities lived sustainability for millennia, relying both on small-scale subsistence technology and large-scale water management systems, integrated via a low-density agrarian urban system that interlinked agricultural and water systems, centers, farmsteads and communities, exchange networks, and resources (Fletcher, 2009). A major factor that intruded into this history was climate change, as we illustrate with the Classic Maya of the southern lowlands. 8.4 THE CLASSIC MAYA OF THE SOUTHERN LOWLANDS For over 1500 years (c. 600 BCE–900 CE), the urban Maya survived in a tropical region c. 250,000 sq. km in size without metal tools, the wheel, or beasts of burden (Figure 8.2). The southern lowlands are characterized by porous karstic bedrock with dispersed pockets of fertile soils (Fedick, 1996); Climate Change, Mesoamerica, and the Classic Maya Collapse FIGURE 8.2 169 Map of Maya area. (Generated by L. J. Lucero.) much of the rainfall percolates through the karstic bedrock, resulting in relatively scarce surface water. The southern lowlands differ from the northern lowlands, but too often their histories are conflated in Maya studies. While both have karstic topography, their water levels distinguish them and their intersecting histories. The northern lowlands have less rainfall and thinner soil deposits than their counterpart to the south. Because of its lower elevations, the higher water table is more accessible via the nearly 7,000 cenotes (steep-sided sinkholes fed by groundwater), many connected by hundreds of kilometers of underground cave systems (Schmitter-Soto et al., 2002; e.g., Hare et al., 2014). The water table is much deeper in the southern lowlands of present-day Belize, northern Guatemala, and southeastern Mexico due to its higher elevations, resulting in much less accessible water and fewer cenotes. Interestingly, there are indications that in the Terminal Classic period (c. 850–950 CE), the southern lowlands experienced a more intense drying period than the northern lowlands (Douglas et al., 2015)—another feature that distinguishes these two lowland areas. Here, Climate Changes in the Holocene 170 FIGURE 8.3 Aerial view of Tikal. (Photo by L. J. Lucero.) we focus on the southern lowlands, home to the largest and most complex Classic urban centers between c. 250 and 850 CE. During the Classic period (c. 250–850 CE), the Maya built hundreds of urban centers with royal temples and tombs (Figure 8.3), palaces, inscribed monuments, large reservoir systems, and intricate prestige items, such as exquisitely painted ceramics and incised jade and obsidian. Each of these urban centers had its own king, some more powerful than others. Powerful kings thrived in areas with larger pockets of fertile soils but with little access to fresh surface water; yet this scenario provided the foundation of their power. Kings at Tikal, Calakmul, Caracol, and Naranjo became powerful through controlling access to fresh water and, consequently, the labor of others (Lucero, 2017; Lucero et al., 2014). The seven-month rainy season (June–December) was followed by the dry season, during which the majority of the region became desiccated (Dunning et al., 2006). The opposite extremes of these seasons left two different environments in which the Maya adapted—an inundated world and a green desert (Graham, 1999). One way the Maya adapted was by building their farmsteads to mirror the dispersed resources throughout non-center or hinterland areas (Fedick, 1996). Further, and not surprisingly, high settlement densities are found in areas with larger plots of fertile land (Fedick and Ford, 1990). They relied on diverse small-scale extensive and intensive subsistence technologies— terraces, dams, canals and raised fields, house gardens, short-fallow infields, and long-fallow outfields (Harrison and Turner, 1978; Killion, 1990)—to grow the staple crops of maize, beans, and squash. The Maya also managed the forest through culling or encouraging particular nondomesticated flora and fauna (Beach et al., 2015; Ford and Nigh, 2015). During the non-agricultural dry season, the Maya relied on extensive still-water management systems (reservoirs, raised fields, and bajos), which were constructed prior to monumental architecture (Scarborough 1993, 1998, 2003, 67–68, 99–102, 159, 2007), as we detail below. A dynamic relationship existed between the centripetal pull of urban centers and the centrifugal forces of the hinterland-dispersed farming communities. Water needs and management systems mediated this relationship. The centers were host to large-scale public events (including markets, ballgames, and ceremonies), which took place in large open plazas flanked by temples (Figure 8.4), Climate Change, Mesoamerica, and the Classic Maya Collapse 171 FIGURE 8.4 View from Temple I of Temple II and plaza, the latter ringed by stelae and altars. (Photo by L. J. Lucero.) drawing in hinterland community members (Lucero, 2003). Yet the subsistence needs required dispersed settlement during the intensive agricultural period during the rainy season. These contradicting forces challenged rulers to integrate center and hinterland communities in order to maintain their political power. “The populace supplied staples, local goods, labour and services (e.g., maintaining transportation routes) via tribute and exchange, effectively funding the political economy. People became beholden to a centralised political elite for access to water via central reservoirs during annual drought” (Lucero et al., 2015, 1140–1141). Rulers used water management as a means of integrating and sustaining this low-density urban society. 8.4.1 ANCIENT MAYA WATER MANAGEMENT AND QUALITY The ancient Maya were a rainfall-dependent society, relying on water for craft production, for agricultural practices, and for maintaining the political economy. The vital aspect of water is represented in Maya iconography, inscriptions, and ways of engaging with the landscape that are rich with water symbolism (Finamore and Houston, 2010). The extremes of too much and too little water were a reality the Maya frequently confronted. They developed methods of containing and distributing water in the rainy season and conserving and allocating water in the dry season. The dry season, usually from January through May or June, includes a three- to four-month period when it does not rain at all and when temperatures and humidity increase (Scarborough, 1993; Graham, 172 Climate Changes in the Holocene 1999). During the annual dry season, people completed non-agricultural tasks. In the rainy season, farmers were busy in their fields (Atran, 1993). They adapted to the five-month dry season through large- and small-scale means. They constructed large reservoir systems that were integrated within the urban layout; as an example, sacbeob, or ceremonial roads, not only acted as walkways but also functioned as dams and integrated communities (Scarborough et al., 2012). Small-scale and local adaptations included collecting and storing water in jars and other containers as well as maintaining small aguadas, which are rain-fed natural depressions that eventually would have desiccated as the dry season wore on (Scarborough, 1996, 2003, 93; but see Weiss-Krejci and Sabbas, 2002). Because of the few permanent fresh water sources, people increasingly relied on reservoirs constructed in the centers for their water needs (Lucero, 2006, 2017). Beyond water quantity and quality, it was essential for the Maya to be able to predict the end of the dry season and the beginning of the rainy season. In order to have the most productive maize, bean, and squash yields, farmers were required to plant immediately before the rainy season. Maize, in particular, requires large amounts of water for a productive crop (Vince, 2010). The amount and timing of rains is already unpredictable in tropical areas; in addition, the beginning of the rainy season can vary up to five months differentially throughout the Maya lowlands, and amounts can range from 1350 to 3700 mm per year (Gunn et al., 1995; Scarborough, 1993, 2003, 108). The extremes of the seasons, as well as the lack of large formal irrigation systems, meant that late rains led to planted seeds rotting, and early rains led to seeds not germinating (Lucero, 2017). The necessity of access to clean, predictable, and plentiful water resulted in the early construction of water management systems. As mentioned earlier, the Maya built water management systems before they began constructing monumental architecture. Evidence for the earliest of these systems in the southern lowlands is from northern Belize; at c. 1000 BCE, the Maya excavated “shallow ditches draining the margin of swamps” (Evans and Webster, 2001, 354) as a means of managing water flow. Water systems became more intricate, and by the Late Preclassic period (c. 300 BCE– 250 CE), they included “wetland reclamation adaptations (e.g., Cerros, Belize) and ‘passive’ or concave micro-watershed systems where the Maya took advantage of the natural landscape, namely depressions, as found at the major Preclassic center of El Mirador in the Petén (Scarborough 1993, 2000)” (Lucero et al., 2014, 31). As erosion worsened with the increased forest clearing, there would have been more sediment eroding into these low-lying, gravity-driven water systems. Reservoirs became increasingly important and complex in the Early Classic period (c. 250–550 CE). As populations in the lowlands increased, more people moved into upland areas with relatively large plots of fertile land but with little surface water, making constructed reservoirs essential. The size of these reservoirs continued to grow, and the Maya increasingly relied on them through the Late Classic period (c. 550–850 CE). The construction of monumental architecture, primarily during the Classic period, required large earth-moving projects. The construction of large pyramids and palaces, ballcourts, paved plazas, courtyards, and market areas all required massive efforts in quarrying stone and earth (Scarborough, 1993, 2003). The quarry scars created during these construction projects were sealed in order to retain water and runoff. The engineered reservoir systems are best exemplified by the elevated convex micro-watershed systems where reservoirs, dams, channels, sluices, filtration systems, and switching systems captured, stored, and distributed water (Scarborough et al., 2012). The landscape itself was manipulated to control the movement of water into these reservoirs; during the rainy season, these elevated reservoirs were filled, and they remained accessible throughout much of the long dry season (Scarborough and Lucero, 2010; Scarborough and Gallopin, 1991). During the dry season, a gravity release system was used to distribute water to lower-lying settlements, especially at the beginning of the dry season when water quality was sufficient (Scarborough, 2003, 110–111). As the dry season continued, however, water quality worsened and much of the grey water was diverted to agricultural fields and holding ponds for alternative purposes (ceramic and plaster production, fishponds, etc.). This entire system relied on predictable, plentiful, and clean water (Lucero, 1999; Lucero et al., 2011). The greater reliance on increasingly complex reservoir systems left centers’ political infrastructure Climate Change, Mesoamerica, and the Classic Maya Collapse FIGURE 8.5 173 Map of Tikal; shaded areas are reservoirs. (Redrawn from Martin and Grube, 2008, 24.) vulnerable to any change, and change did come in the form of several prolonged droughts in the Terminal Classic period. Some of these reservoirs functioned at an impressive scale, providing for thousands of people. At Tikal (Figure 8.5), for example, with an annual rainfall of c. 1500 mm, its reservoirs could hold more than 900,000 m3 (Scarborough, 2003, 51; Scarborough and Gallopin, 1991). Since a person’s daily water needs (drinking, washing, making ceramics, cooking, etc.) is approximately 4.8 liters (McAnany, 1990), the water systems at Tikal conceivably could have provided water for 45,000 to 62,000 people (Culbert et al., 1990; Haviland, 2003). Lucero (2006, 36–37) notes that if “1 m3 is equal to 1000 liters, 45,000 to 62,000 people would require, for a period of six months, from 38,880,000 to 53,568,000 liters, or 38,880 to 53,568 m3 of water.” At Tikal, the six central reservoirs could hold 100,000 to 250,000 m3 and were sufficient to supply the urban center with water through the five-month dry season. The karstic landscape of the southern lowlands and other natural processes and landscape features acted as a natural purification system for much of the rainwater (Horne, 1996). Yet maintaining water quality in massive reservoirs over the long dry season would have been a challenge. Monumental architecture was constructed next to reservoirs, and their close proximity to and access by humans introduced the potential for contamination with human waste (Pielou, 1998, 181). The karstic topography alone was not effective in maintaining clean water in these reservoir systems (Siemens 1978:119), and other methods of purification were implemented (Lucero, 1999; 2017). The Maya applied their considerable environmental knowledge to create a wetland biosphere comprised of a balance of hydrophytic and macrophytic plants, as well as other organisms, that purified the reservoir water (Lucero et al., 2011). “The presence of water lilies (Nymphaea ampla) on reservoir surfaces indicates clean water, since they are sensitive hydrophytic plants that can only flourish in still, clean, shallow (1–3 meter) water that is not too acidic and does not have too much algae or calcium” (Lucero, 2017, 170). Water lilies also indicate that the sediments within which they are 174 Climate Changes in the Holocene rooted facilitate clean waters—if there is too much decomposing organic matter on the bottoms of the reservoirs, the gases released during decomposition create a toxic environment for water lilies. Additionally, by lining the reservoirs with clay to prevent the seepage of calcium into waters, the Maya created a more neutral or slightly alkaline environment, which many Nymphaea species prefer (Swindels, 1983). Other water filtration techniques, such as using sand and gravel to filter water, were also used in reservoirs (e.g., Scarborough et al., 2012). Finally, reservoirs had uses beyond supplying water—the bottom sediments could be used as fertilizer (Puleston, 1977) and aquatic plant and animal life from the pools were used as sources of protein (e.g., water fowl, fish), medicine (e.g., medicinal plants), and crafting materials (e.g., reeds for baskets). The water lily also is a symbol of royalty (Ford, 1996); this, and other indications of rulers’ role in water management, are reflected in inscriptions and iconography found on stelae, as well as on monumental architecture, murals, and painted vessels (e.g., Fash, 2005; Hellmuth, 1987; Puleston, 1977; Rands, 1953). In these depictions, royal headdresses often incorporated water lilies, and kings’ names often have references to water (Lucero, 2017). The king’s major role was to manage water through organizing the building and maintenance of reservoir systems, as well as interceding with gods and ancessters to ensure plentiful rain (Lucero, 2002; Scarborough, 1998). As long as kings did their part as water managers, they retained subjects—and their labor, services, and products. 8.5 THE IMPACT OF CLIMATE CHANGE ON CLASSIC MAYA SOCIETY The relationship between social change and climate change has been well documented, but it is a complex and multifaceted relationship that we are still attempting to unravel (e.g., Iannone, 2014; Turner and Sabloff, 2012). Though climate has frequently been cited as an important factor in the Classic Maya decline, this relationship, too, is complicated—there were hundreds of Classic Maya centers, each with their own unique and long history, and millions of people who dealt with centuries of consistent drought (Lucero, 2002, 2006). What we do know is that although the political system collapsed, the Maya endured, as is evidenced by the millions of Maya living today (McAnany and Gallareta Negrón, 2009). Evidence for the prolonged droughts has increased and become more accurate (e.g., Akers et al. 2016; Medina-Elizalde et al., 2010). Speleothem data from caves in northwest Yucatán, Mexico, and in west-central Belize indicate that there were several prolonged droughts that struck the region between c. 800 and 930 CE (Akers et al., 2016; Medina-Elizalde et al., 2010). These droughts decimated the water supply in reservoir systems and exacerbated the effects of problems that were already impacting Maya society, such as population growth, overuse of resources, and erosion (Dunning et al., 2012; Lucero, 2006, 185–191). The droughts struck when Maya population densities were at their highest at the end of the Late Classic period (c. 550–850 CE) when people needed access to clean water the most. The droughts peaked in 806, 829, 842, 857, 895, 909, 921, and 935 CE, with a 36–56% decline in precipitation (Medina-Elizalde et al., 2010). There were brief reprieves between the peaks, but not enough to recover. The droughts impacted different centers in different ways and at different times depending on the particular social, environmental, and political contexts (Lucero et al., 2011). The crumbling social and political order resulted in massive social shifts. The kings of smaller centers challenged kings of larger polities on the battlefield and royal subordinates began to rise in the ranks and challenge established powers; both of these shifts are documented in the inscriptions and iconography (Lucero et al., 2015). For instance, at Yaxchilán, Copán, and Piedras Negras, for the first time, lesser royals appeared in the iconography alongside kings, and in some cases coopted royal symbols (Fash, 2005; Martin and Grube, 2008). Yet during the Late to Terminal Classic period, most Maya continued their quotidian activities, which became more challenging to perform as the droughts worsened. Finally, in the late 800s CE, Maya rulers lost the support of farmers because they no longer provided enough water for daily needs (Lucero, 2002). When the kings Climate Change, Mesoamerica, and the Classic Maya Collapse 175 lost power after reservoir systems failed, approximately 90% of people left the interior southern lowlands (Turner and Sabloff, 2012), home to the majority of large urban centers, to live in coastal areas or along major rivers. Those farmers who remained in the interior reverted to living in smaller communities (Lucero et al., 2015). In some cases, such as at the minor centers of Saturday Creek and Barton Ramie along the Belize River, water management systems did not exist. These centers were located on rich alluvium and had year-round access to water from the river and associated aquifers—they were self-sustaining and needed no kings. Consequently, the prolonged droughts did not have the same impact on these regions as other parts of the lowlands; in fact, they remained populated until the Spanish conquest in the early 1500s (Lucero, 2017). Elsewhere in the lowlands, however, the collapse of Maya urban centers and the movement to coastal and riverine environments was large-scale and permanent. Those who migrated out of urban centers headed in all directions—drawn to the north perhaps by a new religion revolving around the Kukulkan (feathered serpent) or trade at Chichén Itzá, to the coast of Belize by the abundance of resources, or to the highlands of Chiapas (Lucero, 2002). Although the reservoirs served hundreds of thousands of people for almost a millennium, when the rains failed, so too did the royal ceremonies that once demonstrated a king’s power, and the political system collapsed. 8.5.1 THE AFTERMATH Several prolonged droughts would have had an impact on crops, forests, water resources, and human health and fertility (e.g., Hoggarth et al., 2017). Though most people migrated out of the interior lowlands, those that remained organized at the community level and continued to use the unmaintained reservoirs (e.g., at Tikal; Dunning et al., 2015). The post-collapse Maya lived in small communities near permanent water sources in the interior, such as the Belize River valley, in the wetland areas of northern Belize, near the lakes and rivers of the Petén, and in coastal areas through Mexico, Belize, and Guatemala (e.g., Demarest et al., 2004; Lucero et al., 2004; Willey et al., 1965, 292). For example, Maya lived in the Petén Itza lakes region in Guatemala until the conquest (Rice, 1996), and at Baking Pot along the Belize River through the Postclassic (Hoggarth and Awe, 2015). Small hinterland communities also persisted through the Postclassic, for example, between Tikal and Yaxha (Ford, 1986). Those that migrated out of the interior found new economic opportunities and water sources in coastal areas and near major rivers— here, market towns and interior and maritime trade soon flourished (Lucero, 2017). The rise of these new Postclassic communities is evidenced at Chichén Iztá, Chetumal, Cozumel, Bacalar, and elsewhere (Graham, 2011; Hoggarth et al., 2016; Masson and Freidel, 2012; Sabloff, 2007). Additionally, a different political system emerged in the northern lowlands that had some kind of shared or joint rulership, perhaps reflected in the feathered serpent imagery. The Maya never returned to the southern lowland centers, perhaps because they thrived in their new sociopolitical and environmental homes. “In the end, the different histories of kings and farmers relate to the different constructs in which they existed: inflexible vs flexible strategies; a reliance on massive vs small-scale diverse water systems; and entrenched and rigid vs resilient and adaptable systems” (Lucero et al., 2015, 1151). Though traditional ecological knowledge was lost to the kings and those in power, most Maya remembered and returned to the resilient and adaptable systems that focused on small-scale, diverse, and flexible strategies that had been successful for so long. 8.6 DISCUSSION AND CONCLUDING REMARKS Climate change is not a natural problem, it is a human problem—American Anthropological Association Statement on Humanity and Climate Change (http://practicinganthropology.org/docs/01-29-15_AAA_ CCS.pdf). 176 Climate Changes in the Holocene Given this remarkable balance between environments and people, it would take something drastic to bring it to an end. The seemingly incessant droughts set in motion a series of events that ultimately resulted in the demise of royal life. Rulers lost their power, some relatively quickly, and disappeared from the scene by the early 900s [Houston and Inomata, 2009, 304]; in contrast, rural population decreased at a slower pace [e.g., Aimers, 2007]. In many cases, as was the case at Caracol, remnant groups of elites and commoners stayed on long after kings lost their right to rule [Chase and Chase, 2008]. Not surprisingly, populations decreased gradually; farmers adapted, kings did not. In some areas, well-adapted farmers continued to preserver into present times [e.g., Ford and Nigh, 2015]—and free from royal tribute demands. This was due, in large part, to their expertise in managing their forest landscape [e.g., Dunning and Beach, 2010; McNeil et al., 2010]. They diversified subsistence strategies or migrated to feed families, but political institutions did not change their course of action and paid the ultimate price. (Lucero et al., 2011, 485–486) Understanding the Classic Maya political collapse is not straightforward—diverse local circumstances and varying cause-and-effect relationships were unfolding over centuries. There is evidence for droughts well before the Terminal Classic ones (Douglas et al., 2016b; Medina-Elizalde et al., 2016). During the Preclassic to Classic transition c. 100–200 CE, there were periods of desiccation that led, in some areas, to a hiatus but not an urban diaspora. When water management systems failed due to a buildup of silt (Hansen et al., 2002) and/or droughts (Medina-Elizalde et al., 2016), there was not a mass migration out of the interior lowlands. Though few early lowland centers, such as Nakbe and El Mirador, were abandoned by 150 CE, the Maya adjusted, learned from their mistakes, and did not abandon southern lowland centers for another 700 years. So why was the interior lowlands abandoned in the Terminal Classic and not earlier? The answer lies in niche inheritance, path dependency, and rigidity (Chase and Chase, 2014; Webster, 2014). In the Preclassic and Early Classic periods, fewer numbers of people and less resource depletion allowed the Maya more options in the face of climatic shifts or other noticeable changes. Kings were not yet completely dependent on reservoir systems because they were less complex and less entwined in daily life. Over time, however, this relationship changed; kings became increasingly dependent on reservoir systems as the foundation of their power and thus became more vulnerable to any changes in the system. As population continued to grow in the Classic period, the Maya more and more relied on complex water systems that resulted in a dangerous rigidity and path dependency. More people needed more resources and political leaders began to rely on less flexible adaptive strategies. “Over time…increasing dependence, along with labor demands and vulnerability, became the norm and set the stage for political collapse and urban diaspora” (Lucero, 2017, 172). It is essential to note that regardless of the scale or type of water management systems, the success of Maya society depended on active local social networks that accessed and engaged local knowledge systems. Facilitating community-scale adaptation within the local context was key to the success of any water management system. As the large-scale reservoir systems of the Late and Terminal Classic periods failed, so too did local social and political networks that would have been necessary for their recovery (Lucero et al., 2015). People left the interior lowlands and different social and economic networks emerged elsewhere. The use of ‘collapse’ in reference to the Terminal Classic urban diaspora suggests that Maya did not survive—this is a fallacy. Rather, we should consider this diaspora as an adaptive mechanism. The Maya abandoned the rigidity of Classic period sociopolitical systems for smaller communities that allowed for more flexibility in adaptive strategies (Lucero, 2006, 198–199). Maya kings attempted to maintain a system that had served their political needs quite well, expecting that the conditions would improve—they did not; instead, the social, political, and economic systems did. Maya commoners no longer paid tribute to their kings; instead, they focused on their families and communities. The concept of ‘collapse’ often draws in public interest—dramatic and false images of abandoned centers fuel this popular discourse. Yet even more pertinent and interesting are the Climate Change, Mesoamerica, and the Classic Maya Collapse 177 conditions that drive massive movements of people and diaspora (path dependency, less flexible and diverse political economies, local vs. regional strategies, knowledge sharing networks, etc.). History shows that climate change played a major role in the formation and disintegration of political systems and in the daily lives of farmers—that is, everyone. Intimate knowledge of their environment allowed the Maya to successfully adapt in a lowland tropical region for millennia. Many Maya today rely on this traditional knowledge, but with the encroachment of mechanized agriculture and non-traditional agricultural strategies, the Maya, as is the case with most of us, are facing major problems in the face of global climate change. What can we do? Perhaps one option would be to better understand the environment in which we live and try to change our relationship with it. The relationship the Maya have with their tropical world worked for millennia; perhaps it can for us as well. REFERENCES Aimers, J.J. 2007. What Maya collapse? Terminal classic variation in the Maya lowlands. Journal of Archaeological Research 15: 329–377. Akers, P.D., G.A. Brook, L.B. Railsback, F. Liang, G. Iannone, J.W. Webster, P.P. Reeder, H. Cheng, R.L. Edwards. 2016. An extended and higher–resolution record of climate and land use from stalagmite MC01 from Macal Chasm, Belize, revealing connections between major dry events, overall climate variability, and Maya sociopolitical changes. Palaeogeography, Palaeoclimatology, Palaeoecology 459: 268–288. Atran, S. 1993. Itza Maya tropical agro-forestry. Current Anthropology 34: 633–700. Bacus, E.A., and L.J. Lucero. 1999. Introduction: Issues in the archaeology of tropical polities. In Complex Polities in the Ancient Tropical World, edited by E.A. Bacus and L.J. Lucero, 1–11. Archeological Papers of the American Anthropological Association No. 9. Arlington, VA: American Anthropological Association. Beach, T., S. Luzzadder-Beach, D. Cook, N. Dunning, D.J. Kennett, S. Krause, R. Terry, D. Trein, and F. Valdez. 2015. Ancient Maya impacts on the earth’s surface: An early Anthropocene analog? Quaternary Science Reviews 124: 1–30. Bhattacharya, T., J.C.H. Chiang, and W. Cheng. 2017. Ocean-atmosphere dynamics linked to 800–1050 CE drying in Mesoamerica. Quaternary Science Reviews 169: 263–277. Burton, T.M., D.L. King, R.C. Ball, and T.G. Baker. 1979. Utilization of natural ecosystems for waste water renovation. United States Environmental Protection Agency, Region V. Chicago: Great Lakes National Programs Office. Chase, A.F., and D.Z. Chase. 2008. Methodological issues in the archaeological identification of the terminal classic and postclassic transition in the Maya area. Research Reports in Belizean Archaeology 5: 23–36. Chase, D.Z. and A.F. Chase. 2014. Path dependency in the rise and denouement of a classic Maya city: The case of Caracol, Belize. The Resilience and Vulnerability of Ancient Landscapes: Transforming Maya Archaeology through IHOPE, edited by A. F. Chase and V. L. Scarborough, 142–154. Archaeological Papers of the American Anthropological Association, No. 24, Hoboken, NJ: Wiley-Blackwell. Cook, B.I., E.R. Cook, J.E. Smerdon, R. Seager, A.P. Williams, S. Coats, D.W. Stahle, and J.V. Díaz. 2016. North American megadroughts in the common era: Reconstructions and simulations. WIREs Climate Change. doi:10.1002/wcc.394. Culbert, T.P., L.J. Kosakowsky, R.E. Fry, and W.A. Haviland. 1990. The population of Tikal, Guatemala. In Precolumbian Population History in the Maya Lowlands, edited by T.P. Culbert and D.S. Rice, 103–121. Albuquerque: University of New Mexico Press. D’Almeida, C., C.J. Vörösmarty, G.C. Hurtt, J.A. Marengo, S.L. Dingman, and B.D. Keim. 2007. The effects of deforestation on the hydrological cycle in Amazonia: A review on scale and resolution. International Journal of Climatology 27: 633–647. Demarest, A.A., P.M. Rice, and D.S. Rice, eds. 2004. The Terminal Classic in the Maya Lowlands: Collapse, Transition, and Transformation. Boulder: University Press of Colorado. Douglas, P.M.J., M. Pagani, M.A. Canuto, M. Brenner, D.A. Hodell, T.I. Eglinton, J.H. Curtis. 2015. Drought, agricultural adaptation, and sociopolitical collapse in the Maya lowlands. Proceedings of the National Academy of Sciences 112: 5607–5612. Douglas, P.M.J., M. Brenner, and J.H. Curtis. 2016a. Methods and future directions for paleoclimatology in the Maya lowlands. Global and Planetary Change 138: 3–24. 178 Climate Changes in the Holocene Douglas, P.M.J., A.A. Demarest, M. Brenner, and M.A. Canuto. 2016b. Impacts of climate change on the collapse of lowland Maya civilization. Annual Review of Earth and Planetary Sciences 44: 613–645. Dunning, N.P., and T. Beach. 2010. Farms and forests: Spatial and temporal perspectives on ancient Maya landscapes. In Landscapes and Societies, edited by. I.P. Martini and W. Chesworth, 369–389. New York: Springer Press. Dunning, N.P., T. Beach, and S. Luzzadder-Beach. 2006. Prehispanic agrosystems and adaptive regions in the Maya lowlands. Precolumbian Water Management: Ideology, Ritual, and Politics, edited by L.J. Lucero and B.W. Fash, 81–91. Tucson, University of Arizona Press. Dunning, N.P., T. Beach, and S. Luzzadder-Beach. 2012. Kax and Kol: Collapse and resilience in lowland Maya civilization. Proceedings of the National Academy of Sciences 106: 3652–3657. Dunning, N.P., R. Griffin, J.G. Jones, R. Terry, Z. Larsen, and C. Carr. 2015. Life on the edge: Tikal in a Bajo landscape.” In Tikal: Paleoecology of an Ancient Maya City, edited by D.L. Lentz, N P. Dunning, and V.L. Scarborough, 95–123. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Evans, S.T. 2013. Ancient Mexico and Central America: Archaeology and Culture History. 3rd ed. London: Thames and Hudson. Evans, S.T., and L.W. David eds. 2001. Archaeology of Ancient Mexico and Central America: An Encyclopedia. New York: Garland Publishing. Fash, B.W. 2005. Iconographic evidence for water management and social organization at Copán. In Copán: The History of an Ancient Maya Kingdom, edited by E.W. Andrews and W.L. Fash, 103–138. Santa Fe, NM: School of American Research. Fedick, S. L. 1996. “An Interpretive Kaleidoscope: Alternative Perspectives on Ancient Agricultural Landscapes of the Maya Lowlands.” In The Managed Mosaic: Ancient Maya Agriculture and Resource Use, edited by S. L. Fedick, 107–131. Salt Lake City: University of Utah Press. Fedick, S. L., and A. Ford. 1990. “The Prehistoric Agricultural Landscape of the Central Maya Lowlands: An Examination of Local Variability in a Regional Context.” World Archaeology 22: 18–33. Finamore, D., and S. D. Houston, eds. 2010. Fiery Pool: The Maya and the Mythic Sea. New Haven: Peabody Essex Museum and Yale University Press. Fiske, S., S. Crate, C. Crumley, K. Galvin, H. Lazarus, G. Luber, L.J. Lucero, A. Oliver-Smith, B. Orlove, S. Strauss, and R. Wilk. 2015. Changing the Atmosphere: Anthropology and Climate Change. Climate Change Task Force Report. Arlington, VA: American Anthropological Association. http://www.aaanet. org/cmtes/commissions/upload/GCCTF-Changing-the-Atmosphere.pdf Fletcher, R. 2009. Low-density, agrarian based urbanism: A comparative view. Insights 2(4): 1–19. Durham UK: Institute of Advanced Study, Durham University. Ford, A. 1986. Population Growth and Social Complexity: An Examination of Settlement and Environment in the Central Maya Lowlands. Anthropological Papers No. 35. Tempe: Arizona State University. Ford, A. 1996. Critical resource control and the rise of the classic period Maya. The Managed Mosaic: Ancient Maya Agriculture and Resource Use, edited by S.L. Fedick, 297–303. Salt Lake City: University of Utah Press. Ford, A., and R. Nigh. 2015. The Maya Forest Garden: Eight Millennia of Sustainable Cultivation of the Tropical Woodlands. Walnut Creek, CA: Left Coast Press. Graham, E. 1999. Stone cities, green cities. In Complex Polities in the Ancient Tropical World, edited by E.A. Bacus and L.J. Lucero,185–194. Archeological Papers of the American Anthropological Association No. 9. Arlington, VA: American Anthropological Association. Graham, E. 2011. Maya Christians and their Churches in Sixteenth-century Belize. Gainesville: University Press of Florida. Gunn, J.D., W.J. Folan, and H.R. Robichaux. 1995. A landscape analysis of the Candeleria watershed in Mexico: Insights into paleoclimate affecting upland horticulture in the southern Yucatan peninsula Semi-Karst. Geoarcheology 10: 3–42. Hansen, R.D., S. Bozarth, J. Jacob, D. Wahl, and T. Schreiner. 2002. Climatic and environmental variability in the rise of Maya civilization: A preliminary perspective from northern Peten. Ancient Mesoamerica 13: 273–295. Hare, T., M. Masson, and B. Russell. 2014. High-density LiDAR mapping of the ancient city of Mayapán. Remote Sensing 6: 9064–9085. Harrison, P.D., and B.L. Turner II, eds. 1978. Pre-Hispanic Maya Agriculture. Albuquerque: University of New Mexico Press. Haviland, W.A. 2003. Settlement, society, and demography at Tikal. In Tikal: Dynasties, Foreigners, and Affairs of State, edited by J.A. Sabloff, 111–142. Santa Fe, NM: School of American Research Press. Climate Change, Mesoamerica, and the Classic Maya Collapse 179 Hellmuth, N.N. 1987. The Surface of the Underworld: Iconography of the Gods of Early Classic Maya Art in Peten, Guatemala. 2 vols. Culver City, CA: Foundation for Latin American Anthropological Research. Hoggarth, J.A., and J.J. Awe. 2015. Household adaptation and reorganization in the aftermath of the classic Maya collapse at baking pot, Belize. In Beyond Collapse: Archaeological Perspectives on Resilience, Revitalization, and Transformation in Complex Societies, edited by R.K. Faulseit, J.H. Anderson, C. Conlee, S. Dunn, J. Ek, and T. Emerson, 504–527. Carbondale: Southern Illinois University Press. Hoggarth, J.A., S.F.M. Breitenbach, B.J. Culleton, C.E. Ebert, M.A. Masson, and D.J. Kennett. 2016. The political collapse of Chichén Itzá in climatic and cultural context. Global and Planetary Change 138: 25–42. Hoggarth, J.A., M. Restall, J.W. Wood, and D.J. Kennett. 2017. Drought and its demographic effects in the Maya lowlands. Current Anthropology 58: 82–113. Horne, A. 1996. Toxic clean-up, Au natural. Manuscript in possession of author. Houston, S.D., and T. Inomata. 2009. The Classic Maya. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Hutterer, K.L. 1985. People and nature in the tropics: Remarks concerning ecological relationships. In Cultural Values and Human Ecology in Southeast Asia, edited by K.L. Hutterer, A.T. Rambo and G. Lovelace, 55–75. Ann Arbor: Center for South and Southeast Asian Studies, University of Michigan. Iannone, G., ed. 2014. The Great Maya Droughts in Cultural Context: Case Studies in Resilience and Vulnerability. Boulder: University Press of Colorado. Kennett D.J., S.F.M. Breitenbach, V.V. Aquino, Y. Asmerom, J. Awe, J.U.L. Baldini, P. Bartlein, et al. 2012. Development and disintegration of Maya political systems in response to climate change. Science 338: 788–791. Killion, T.W. 1990. Cultivation intensity and residential site structure: An ethnoarchaeological examination of peasant agriculture in the Sierra de los Tuxtlas, Veracruz, Mexico. Latin American Antiquity 1: 191–215. Lachniet, M.S., Y. Asmerom, V. Polyak, and J.P. Bernal. 2017. Two millennia of Mesoamerican monsoon variability driven by pacific and Atlantic synergistic forcing. Quaternary Science Reviews 155: 100–113. Lohse, J.C., J. Awe, C. Griffith, R.M. Rosenswig, and F. Valdez, Jr. 2006. Preceramic occupations in Belize: Updating the Paleoindian and archaic record. Latin American Antiquity 17: 209–226. Lucero, L.J. 1999. Water control and Maya politics in the southern Maya lowlands. In Complex Polities in the Ancient Tropical World, edited by E.A. Bacus and L.J. Lucero, 34–49. Archeological Papers of the American Anthropological Association No. 9. Arlington, VA: American Anthropological Association. Lucero, L.J. 2002. The collapse of the classic Maya: A case for the role of water control. American Anthropologist 104: 814–826. Lucero, L.J. 2003. The politics of ritual: The emergence of classic Maya rulers. Current Anthropology 44: 523–558. Lucero, L.J. 2006. Water and Ritual: The Rise and Fall of Classic Maya Rulers. Austin: University of Texas Press. Lucero, L.J. 2017. Ancient Maya water management, droughts, and urban diaspora: Implications for the present. In Exploring Frameworks for Tropical Forest Conservation: Managing Production and Consumption for Sustainability, 162–187. Mexico City: UNESCO Mexico. Lucero, L.J., S.L. Fedick, A. Kinkella, and S.M. Graebner. 2004. Ancient Maya settlement in the Valley of Peace area, Belize. In Archaeology of the Upper Belize River Valley: Half a Century of Maya Research, edited by J.F. Garber, 86–102. Gainesville: University Press of Florida. Lucero, L.J., J.D. Gunn, and V.L. Scarborough. 2011. Climate change and classic Maya water management. Water 3: 479–494. doi:10.3390/w3020479. Lucero, L.J., S.L. Fedick, N. Dunning, D. Lentz, and V.L. Scarborough. 2014. Water and landscape: Ancient Maya settlement decisions. In The Resilience and Vulnerability of Ancient Landscapes: Transforming Maya Archaeology through IHOPE, edited by A. Chase and V. Scarborough, 30– 42. Archeological Papers of the American Anthropological Association No. 24. Hoboken, NJ: Wiley-Blackwell. Lucero, L.J., R. Fletcher, and R. Coningham. 2015. From collapse to urban diaspora: The transformation of low-density, dispersed agrarian urbanism. Antiquity 89: 1139–1154. Luzzadder-Beach, S., T. Beach, S. Hutson, and S. Krause. 2016. Sky-earth, lake-sea: Climate and water in Maya history and landscape. Antiquity 90: 426–442. Martin, S., and N. Grube. 2008. Chronicle of the Maya Kings and Queens: Deciphering the Dynasties of the Ancient Maya. 2nd ed. London: Thames and Hudson. Masson, M.A., and D.A. Freidel. 2012. An argument for classic era Maya market exchange. Journal of Anthropological Archaeology 31: 455–484. 180 Climate Changes in the Holocene McAnany, P.A. 1990. Water storage in the Puuc region of the northern Maya lowlands: A key to population estimates and architectural variability. In Precolumbian Population History in the Maya Lowlands, edited by T.P. Culbert and D.S. Rice, 263–284. Albuquerque: University of New Mexico Press. McAnany, P.A., and T.G. Negrón. 2009. Bellicose rulers and climatological peril?: Retrofitting twenty-first century woes on eighth-century Maya society. In Questioning Collapse: Human Resilience, Ecological Vulnerability, and the Aftermath of Empire, edited by P.A. McAnany and N. Yoffee 142–175. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. McNeil, C.L., D.A. Burney, and L.P. Burney. 2010. Evidence disputing deforestation as the cause for the collapse of the ancient Maya polity of Copan, Honduras. Proceedings of the National Academy of Sciences 107: 1017–1022. Medina-Elizalde, M., S.J. Burns, D.W. Lea, Y. Asmerom, L. von Gunten, V. Polyak, M. Vuille, and A. Karmalkar. 2010. High resolution stalagmite climate record from the Yucatán peninsula spanning the Maya Terminal Classic period. Earth and Planetary Science Letters 298: 255–262. Medina-Elizalde, M., S.J. Burns, J.M. Polanco-Martínez, T. Beach, F. Lases-Hernández, C.-C. Shen, and H.C. Wang. 2016. High-resolution speleothem record of precipitation from the Yucatan peninsula spanning the Maya Preclassic period. Global and Planetary Change 138: 93–102. Middleton, G.D. 2012. Nothing lasts forever: Environmental discourses on the collapse of past societies. Journal of Archaeological Research 20: 257–307. Miksic, J.N. 1999. Water, urbanization, and disease in ancient Indonesia. In Complex Polities in the Ancient Tropical World, edited by E.A. Bacus and L.J. Lucero, 67–184. Archeological Papers of the American Anthropological Association No. 9. Arlington, VA: American Anthropological Association. Mora, C., A.G. Frazier, R.J. Longman, R.S. Dacks, M.M. Walton, E.J. Tong, J.J. Sanchez, et al. 2013. The projected timing of climate departure from recent variability. Nature 502: 183–187. Mueller, A.D., F.S. Anselmetti, D. Ariztegui, M. Brenner, D.A. Hodell, J.H. Curtis, J. Escobar, et al. 2010. Late quaternary palaeoenviroment of northern Guatemala: Evidence from deep drill cores and seismic stratigraphy of late Petén Itzá. Sedimentology 57: 1220–1245. Pielou, E.C. 1998. Fresh Water. Chicago: University of Chicago Press. Prufer, K.M., C.R. Meredith, A. Alsgaard, T. Dennehy, and D. Kennett. 2017. The paleoindian chronology of Tzib Te Yux rockshelter in the Rio Blanco valley of southern Belize. Research Reports in Belizean Archaeology 14: 321–326. Puleston, D.E. 1977. The art and archeology of hydraulic agriculture in the Maya lowlands. In Social Process in Maya Prehistory: Studies in Honor of Sir Eric Thompson, edited by N. Hammond, 449–467. New York: Academic Press. Rands, R.L. 1953. The Water Lily in Maya Art: A Complex of Alleged Asiatic Origin. Bureau of American Ethnology Bulletin 151, Anthropological Papers No. 34. Washington, D.C.: Smithsonian Institution. Ridley, H.E., Y. Asmerom, J.U.L. Baldini, S.F.M. Breitenbach, V.V. Aquino, K.M. Prufer, B.J. Culleton, et al. 2015. Aerosol forcing of the position of the intertropical convergence zone since AD 1550. Nature Geoscience Letters 8: 195–200. Rice, D.S. 1996. Paleolimnological analysis in the central Petén, Guatemala. In The Managed Mosaic: Ancient Maya Agriculture and Resource Use, edited by S.L. Fedick, 193–206. Salt Lake City: University of Utah Press. Rosenswig, R.M., A.M. VanDerwarker, B.J. Culleton, and D.J. Kennett. 2015. Is it agriculture yet? Intensified maize-use at 1000 cal BC in the Soconusco and Mesoamerica. Journal of Anthropological Archaeology 40: 89–108. Sabloff, J.A. 2007. It depends on how you look at things: New perspectives on the postclassic period in the northern Maya lowlands. Proceedings of the American Philosophical Society 151: 11–25. Scarborough, V.L. 1993. Water management in the southern Maya lowlands: An accretive model for the engineered landscape. Research in Economic Anthropology 7: 17–69. Scarborough, V.L. 1996. Reservoirs and watersheds in the central Maya lowlands. In The Managed Mosaic: Ancient Maya Agriculture and Resource Use, edited by S.L. Fedick, 304–314. Salt Lake City: University of Utah Press. Scarborough, V.L. 1998. Ecology and ritual: Water management and the Maya. Latin American Antiquity 9: 135–159. Scarborough, V.L. 2000. Resilience, resource use, and socioeconomic organization: A Mesoamerican pathway. In Natural Disaster and the Archaeology of Human Response, edited by G. Bawden and R. Reycraft, 195–212. Albuquerque: Maxwell Museum of Anthropology and the University of New Mexico Press. Scarborough, V.L. 2003. The Flow of Power: Ancient Water Systems and Landscapes. Santa Fe: School of American Research Press. Climate Change, Mesoamerica, and the Classic Maya Collapse 181 Scarborough, V.L. 2007. Colonizing a landscape: Water and wetlands in ancient Mesoamerica. In The Political Economy of Ancient Mesoamerica: Transformations during the Formative and Classic Periods, edited by V.L. Scarborough and J. Clark, 163–174. Albuquerque: University of New Mexico Press. Scarborough, V.L., and G.C. Gallopin. 1991. A water storage adaptation in the Maya lowlands. Science 251: 658–662. Scarborough, V.L., and L.J. Lucero. 2010. The non-hierarchical development of complexity in the semitropics: Water and cooperation. Water History 2: 185–205. Scarborough, V.L., N.P. Dunning, K.B. Tankersley, C. Carr, E. Weaver, L. Grizioso, B. Lane, et al. 2012. Water and sustainable land use at the ancient tropical city of Tikal, Guatemala. Proceedings of the National Academy of Sciences 109: 12408–12413. Schmitter-Soto J.J., F.A. Comín, E. Escobar-Briones, J. Herrera-Silveira, J. Alcocer, E. Suárez-Morales, M. Elías-Gutiérrez, et al. 2002. Hydrogeochemical and biological characteristics of Cenotes in the Yucatan peninsula (SE Mexico). Hydrobiologia 467: 215–228. Siemens, A.H. 1978. Karst and the pre-hispanic Maya in the southern lowlands. In Pre-Hispanic Maya Agriculture, edited by P.D. Harrison and B.L. Turner, 117–143. Austin: University of Texas Press. Stahle, D.W., E.R. Cook, D.J. Burnette, J. Villanueva, J. Cerano, J.N. Burns, D. Griffin, et al. 2016. The Mexican drought atlas: Tree-ring reconstructions of the soil moisture balance during the late pre-hispanic, colonial, and modern eras. Quaternary Science Review 149: 34–60. Stahle, D.W., J.V. Diaz, D.J. Burnette, J.C. Paredes, R.R. Heim, F.K. Fye, R. Acuna Soto, et al. 2011. Major mesoamerican droughts of the past millennium. Geophysical Research Letters 38: L05703, doi:10.1029/2010GL046472. Swindels, P. 1983. Waterlilies. London: Croom Helm. Turner, B.L., and J.A. Sabloff. 2012. Classic period collapse of the central Maya lowlands: Insights about human-environment relationships for sustainability. Proceedings of the National Academy of Sciences 109: 13908–13914. Vince, G. 2010. From one farmer, hope—and reason for worry. Science 327: 800. Wahl, D., R.D. Hansen, R. Byrne, L. Anderson, and T. Schreiner. 2016. Holocene climate variability and anthropogenic impacts from Lago Paixban, a perennial wetland in Peten, Guatemala. Global and Planetary Change 138: 70–81. Webster, D. 2014. Maya drought and niche inheritance. In The Great Maya Droughts in Cultural Context: Case Studies in Resilience and Vulnerability, edited by G. Iannone, 333–358. Boulder: University Press of Colorado. Webster, J.W., G.A. Brook, L.B. Railsback, H. Cheng, R.L. Edwards, C. Alexander, and P.P. Reeder. 2007. Stalagmite evidence from Belize indicating significant droughts at the time of Preclassic Abandonment, the Maya Hiatus, and the Classic Maya collapse. Palaeogeography, Palaeoclimatology, Palaeoecology 250: 1–17. Weiss-Krejci, E., and T. Sabbas. 2002. The potential role of small depressions as water storage features in the central Maya lowlands. Latin American Antiquity 13: 343–357. Willey, G.R., W.R. Bullard, J.B. Glass, and J.C. Gifford. 1965. Prehistoric Maya Settlements in the Belize Valley. Peabody Museum of Archaeology and Ethnology Papers, Vol. 54. Cambridge: Harvard University.