Even these two technological developments, however, are not enough to characterize and explain the emergence of Andean civilizations. From the intimate knowledge of their environmental conditions, the people developed a set of values that may have started from a desire to minimize risks but that soon was elaborated into an economic and political ideal. Every Andean society—be it a tiny, local ethnic group of 20 to 30 villages in a single valley or a large kingdom of 150,000 souls, such as the Lupaca—tried to control simultaneously a wide variety of ecologic stories up and down the mountainsides; some of them were many days’ march from the political core of the nation. If the society was small, the outliers (herders or salt winners above the core; maize, cotton, or coca-leaf cultivators in the warm country below) would be only three or four days away. When the political unit grew large and could mobilize and maintain several hundred young men as colonists, the outliers could be 10 or even 15 days’ walk away from the core.
The colonies were permanent, not seasonal establishments. Since more than one highland kingdom or principality would have maize or coca-leaf oases in a given coastal or upland Amazonian valley, there would be not only competition for their control but also coexistence for long periods of time in a single environment of outlying colonies sent out by quite different core societies.
The Inca state, or Tawantinsuyu as it was known to its own citizens, was perhaps the largest political or military enterprise of all. It reached from Carchi in northern Ecuador to at least Mendoza in Argentina and Santiago in Chile. Its scouts roamed even wider, as recent Chilean archaeology has shown. The Incas expanded and projected on earlier, pre-Incan solutions and adaptations; in the process, many tactics that had worked well on a smaller scale became inoperative; others were reformulated in such ways that their original outline was barely recognizable. For example, they kept an old Andean method of creating revenues for their princes, which involved setting aside acreage for regional authorities and demanding from the conquered peasantry not tribute in kind but rather labour on the field thus set aside. In this way the granary of the peasant household was left untouched; the authority took the risk of hail, frost, or drought decreasing its own revenues.
The Inca state at its zenith did not breach this tradition overtly; the local ethnic groups continued to work the state’s acreage and owed nothing from their own larders. But since the needs of kings kept growing, revenues produced on state lands were soon inadequate; acreage could be and was expanded through such public works as irrigation and terracing. A more tangible way was to increase the amount of energy available for state purposes. For some reasons, still insufficiently understood, the kings did not increase productivity by introducing tribute; they preferred to magnify on an imperial scale the patterns of reciprocal obligations and land use familiar to everyone from earlier times.
Beyond the strategic colonies set up on an expanded model, the Incas did not interfere too much with life of the many local groups that they had incorporated into Tawantinsuyu. Most of the cultures that existed in Ecuador, Peru, Bolivia, Argentina, and Chile before the Inca expansion can be identified. In fact, because the European invasion beginning in 1532 was mostly concerned with breaking the resistance of the Inca overlords, frequently more is known about the pre-Inca occupants than about Cuzco rule. Inca power was broken and decapitated within 40 years of 1532. The ethnic groups, many of which (like the Wanka or the Cañari) sided with Europeans against the Inca, were still easy to locate and identify in the 18th century. In isolated parts of Ecuador (Saraguro, Otavalo) and Bolivia (Chipaya, Macha) this can still be done today.