Michael Curzi asked:
Imagine there were ~20 magically coordinated elites in the aztec empire or native american societies w/ ~50 yrs advance notice of impending conquest. what could they have done to protect their peoples such that those cultures might have continued to develop on their own terms?
This actually happened, but no one likes the answer.
In 1521, Magellan landed in Sugbo, a trading port in what is now Cebu, Philippines. He allied himself with a chieftain named Rajah Humabon. Magellan, possibly from hubris, knightly honor, friendship, or desire to evangelize, fought a battle for Humabon, against the rajah's brother-in-law. 60 vs 1,500. Magellan did this despite the protestations of his crew, and he was killed. A few days later, Humabon invited two of Magellan’s commanders and twenty-four of his remaining crew for a farewell dinner, and they were massacred.
44 years later, in 1565, Miguel Lopez de Legazpi arrived in Sugbo and the islands that were to become the Philippines. He subjugated the local communities mostly by recruiting them as vassals of the Spanish crown. Those who refused were forced into submission with the help of the new local allies. Lopez de Legazpi has been called “the peaceful conquistador,” most likely because the standard used was the psychopathic hero Hernan Cortes.
Our lens today is identity through nation or race. If we remove this and put on the lens of the local elite of the 16th century, being allied to "the greatest king of the world," as Magellan claimed, is how you continue your domination and protect your people (remember: this is pre-nation and pre-race!). The local pre-Hispanic elite was used to giving tribute to more powerful warlords, so the return of the Spaniards was simply a slight adjustment.
Since the Philippines was a distant periphery of the Spanish empire, there were few Spanish immigrants (4,000 - 6,000 max at any given time). The islands also did not have the silver mines of Mexico. The colony's main source of income was the Manila-Acapulco trade of Chinese goods for Mexican silver. This was not enough: the Philippine colony was subsidized with Mexican silver until Mexican independence in the early 19th century. The Spanish language was never spoken by more than ~5% of the population, and it is rare to find Spanish speakers today, after the American colonization.
This meant that the local power structure continued. Slavery was officially banned, but the patron-client model continued. Even today, Philippine society makes a lot of sense through this model.
These elites and their descendants got first dibs on land, positions of power, and education. Many of their daughters married Hispanic colonial officials and soldiers, as well as entrepreneurial Chinese immigrants. These became the "mestizos" (mixed), who eventually comprised most of the ruling class or the principalia. They were the first indigenous government officials and the first indigenous priests.
Only in 1898, almost a hundred years after the Latin American wars of independence, did Filipinos, including eventually the mestizo principalia, fight for national independence. Why did it take so long? One theory among historians is that the ruling class only felt the pressure of fiscal discipline when the subsidies from Mexico disappeared AND the Bourbons replaced the Hapsburgs as rulers of the Empire. The Hapsburgs treated the islands as a pious passion project, while the Bourbons were more modern and business-like.
The local landowners were squeezed by the need for the colony to be financially self-sustaining. The local church was also politicized. Knowing the role of the local clergy in Latin American independence movements, Spain tended to send the most pro-empire friars and bishops.1 Philippine-born Spanish, mestizo, and indio priests were barred from leadership positions in the local church. Some were executed for rebellion.
In the late 19th century, the local elite sent their children to Spain for education. These kids imbibed the liberal and secularist ideals of Europe. They called themselves the ilustrados. They were mostly moderates who wanted more participation in the government of the colony. However, their writings radicalized grassroots power players, who revolted against Spain. The ilustrados eventually joined the war against Spain, especially after the US jumped in the melee.
They continued their dominance within the American colony and also after independence. Individuals and families have undoubtedly entered and exited this ruling oligarchy across the centuries, but the continuity is unmistakable.2 Suggested reading:
asked: "what could they have done to protect their peoples such that those cultures might have continued to develop on their own terms?" The Philippine elite have not only protected their own people but have grown their wealth and power. In a sense, Philippine culture has developed on its own terms. The Philippines is both Christian and democratic today, but power is still held by the spiritual descendants of Rajah Humabon.I’ve been thinking and reading a lot about this because I’m in the middle of writing a novel that fictionalizes the encounter between Rajah Humabon and Magellan, wherein I explore the psychology of the Big Man. Read the first chapter here:
My assertions here are based on what I’ve read from scholarship on Philippine history and culture. This one, however, is a hunch based on the differences between the actions and writings of the missionaries of the 16th and 17th centuries (Oona Paredes likens them to today’s scholars and activists who work for the oppressed) and the accusations against them by the ilustrados of the late 19th century (exemplified by Rizal’s Padre Damaso).
My guess is that the transmission is both memetic and mimetic, i.e., the playbook of Humabon ("Big Man" / "Orang Besar" / "Cacique") is copied by men and women of each succeeding generation with the capabilities (e.g., ruthlessness, organizational skill, and charisma) and the desire for power to do so, both of which are partly genetic (e.g., conscientiousness, intelligence, dark triad traits). However, the book "The Son Also Rises” argues that these traits that enable social dominance are hereditary.