aja sample issue

AMERICAN JOURNAL OF ARCHAEOLOGYVolume 117 No. 1 January 2013

ARTICLES

Erika Weiberg and Martin Finn: Mind or Matter? People-Environment Interactions and the Demise of Early Helladic II Society in the Northeastern Peloponnese 1

Giorgos Papantoniou: Cyprus from Basileis to Strategos: A Sacred-Landscapes Approach 33

Includes Online Supplementary Content

Jennifer M. Webb and David Frankel: Cultural Regionalism and Divergent Social Trajectories in Early Bronze Age Cyprus 59

Josephine Shaya: The Public Life of Monuments: The Summi Viri of the Forum of Augustus 83

FORUM ARTICLE

Blythe Bowman Proulx: Archaeological Site Looting in Glocal Perspective: Nature, Scope, and Frequency 111

Available Online as Open Access Includes Online Supplementary Content

NOTE

Naomi F. Miller: Symbols of Fertility and Abundance in the Royal Cemetery at Ur, Iraq 127

Available Online as Open Access

REVIEW ARTICLE

John K. Papadopoulos: Always Present, Ever Changing, Never Lost from Human View: The Athenian Acropolis in the 21st Century 135

AJA ONLINE (www.ajaonline.org)

Book ReviewsGriffiths Pedley, The Life and Work of Francis Willey Kelsey: Archaeology, Antiquity, and

the Arts (S. Dyson)Teeter, Religion and Ritual in Ancient Egypt (L. Bestock)Wendrich, ed., Egyptian Archaeology (L. Bestock)Ur, Urbanism and Cultural Landscapes in Northeastern Syria: The Tell Hamoukar Survey

19992001 (M.D. Danti)

lvarez-Mon and Garrison, eds., Elam and Persia (A. Zournatzi)Anastasiadou, The Middle Minoan Three-Sided Soft Stone Prism: A Study of Style and

Iconography. 2 vols. ( J.L. Crowley)McGowan, Ambiguity and Minoan Neopalatial Seal Imagery (A. Simandiraki-Grimshaw)Karageorghis, Enkomi: The Excavations of Porphyrios Dikaios 19481958. Supplementary

Catalogue of Finds (L. Crewe)Brisart, Un art citoyen: Recherches sur lorientalization des artisanats en Grce proto-

archaque (N. Papalexandrou)Greaves, The Land of Ionia: Society and Economy in the Archaic Period ( J.P. Stronk)Frederiksen, Greek City Walls of the Archaic Period, 900480 BC (C. Balandier)Franssen, Votiv und Reprsentation: Statuarische Weihungen archaischer Zeit aus Samos

und Attika (C.M. Keesling)Adornato, ed., Scolpire il marmo: Importazioni, artisti itineranti, scuole artistiche nel

Mediterraneo antico. Atti del convegno di studio tenuto a Pisa Scuola normale Superiore, 911 novembre 2009 (K. Karoglou)

Bartosiewicz, ed., The Chora of Metaponto 2: Archaeozoology at Pantanello and Five Other Sites (M. MacKinnon)

Colivicchi, ed., Local Cultures of South Italy and Sicily in the Late Republican Period: Between Hellenism and Rome (D.G. Bartoli)

Moormann, Divine Interiors: Mural Paintings in Greek and Roman Sanctuaries (E. Winsor Leach)

Gleba and Horsns, eds., Communicating Identity in Italic Iron Age Communities (A. Tuck)

Bouke van der Meer, Etrusco Ritu: Case Studies in Etruscan Ritual Behaviour (I. Edlund-Berry)

Landwehr, Die Rmischen Skulpturen von Caesarea Mauretaniae: Denkmler aus Stein und Bronze. Vols. 3, 4 (N. Hannestad)

Magness, Stone and Dung, Oil and Spit: Daily Life in the Time of Jesus (D. Schowalter)

List of Books Received

American Journal of Archaeology 117 (2013) 1311

Mind or Matter? People-Environment Interactions and the Demise of Early Helladic II Society in the

Northeastern PeloponneseERIKA WEIBERG AND MARTIN FINN

ARTICLE

AbstractThe centuries surrounding 2200 B.C.E. (the year com-

monly used to mark the transition between the second and third phases of the Early Bronze Age) were transforma-tive times in the Aegean. At some locations, development continued and accelerated; in many places, however, sev-eral societal characteristics and supraregional traits seem to have been abandoned. Life continued through these changes, but it appears to have been altered and simpli-fied. In this review of previous research on the period, the geographic focus is on the northeastern Peloponnese, and the interpretative focus is on the human dimension be-hind the events. This case study explores the framework of resilience theoryand the new questions it stimulatesto form a better understanding of the actual composition of the changes and their complexity. For archaeology, a focus on resilience could be a focus on human creativity in dealing with life through continually changing circum-stances. We argue, therefore, that resilience theory offers a compelling way to map and understand the cultural change documented in the archaeological record of the Mediterranean.*

introduction

What happens when the foundations on which a society exists fundamentally change? The term col-lapse is often applied under these circumstances. This term tends to draw research attention to the very time

when the event occurred and to comparisons of the before and after. Tainter suggests that [a] soci-ety has collapsed when it displays a rapid, significant loss of an established level of sociopolitical complex-ity.1 Complexity, in turn, is generally understood to refer to such things as the size of the society, the number and distinctiveness of its parts, the variety of specialized social roles that it incorporates, the num-ber of distinct social personalities, and the variety of mechanisms for organizing these into a coherent, functioning whole.2

The period from 2300 to 2100 B.C.E. on the Greek mainland encompassed both what has been inter-preted as the zenith of a 1,000-year phase of cultural expansion and the beginning of a period of more than 500 years characterized by relatively low societal complexity.3 The transition between the second and third phases of the Early Helladic period (i.e., Early Helladic [EH] IIIII), which occurred ca. 2200 B.C.E., fits the Tainterian definition of the collapse of a com-plex society. In short, the process had already begun, at least in some areas, in the final stages of the pre-ceding Neolithic period. It reached a climax in terms of site numbers ca. 2800 B.C.E. and in terms of soci-etal complexity probably some 500 years later. These

* This article is an extended and reworked version of a shorter paper presented at the conference Climate and Ancient Societies: Causes and Human Responses held in Copenhagen 2123 October 2009. The paper was published as part of the project Urban Mind: Cultural and Environ-mental Dynamics. The results of this cross-disciplinary proj-ect aimed at the cognitive aspects of urbanism and climate change were published in a book with the same name. In this, Weiberg participated as an archaeologist, and Finn as a paleoclimate specialist, and these responsibilities are carried through in this article. We would like to thank the initiators of the Urban Mind project, Paul Sinclair and Gullg Nordquist, for their friendly support and for the opportunity to partici-pate in that motivating endeavor. We are also very grateful to Cyprian Broodbank, Karin Holmgren, Michael Lindblom (who also produced many of the fi gures), Jeremy Rutter, and

the anonymous reviewers for the AJA for their many insight-ful comments. Any remaining shortcomings are of course our own.

1 Tainter 1988, 4.2 Tainter 1988, 23.3 All dates used in this article are clearly generalized. The

date 2200 B.C.E. is used to refer to the Early Helladic (EH) IIEH III transition, but it should be recognized that an exact date determination will never be possible, and, most impor-tantly, that any defi nition of time given today, in absolute or relative terms, would have been completely irrelevant for the people actually concerned. The absolute years used in this dis-cussion are approximate but follow the dates in general use in the literature (Manning 1995; Rutter 2001, table 2; Wright 2004, table 9.1; Pullen 2011a, table 1.2).

ERIKA WEIBERG AND MARTIN FINN2 [AJA 117

developments were subsequently reversed beginning ca. 2200 B.C.E., when both the number and size of the sites diminished, leaving a minimum number continu-ing into the Middle Helladic period (ca. 20001600 B.C.E.). The number of sites and their wide distribu-tion over the landscape would not be equaled again until approximately 1,000 years later, during the cul-tural and economic peak of Mycenaean civilization. The end of the EH II period meant a discontinuation of many material items and practices suggestive of economic and administrative complexity, such as the use of sealings. In architecture, most notably, the so-called corridor houses went out of use. The function of the corridor houses remains disputed, but most agree that the buildings must have been of central im-portance in Early Helladic society, economically and politically.4 The disappearance of this type of building in many ways defines the cultural transformation ca. 2200 B.C.E. As a whole, there are many indications that the society moved from a common ground for organization and administration (indicated by the corridor houses and the sealings used for administra-tive purposes) and other supraregional concordances in material culture (including a rather complex level of craft specialization and advanced technical skills within a dynamic and geographically extended sphere of interaction) to more or less the opposite. All this apparently happened during a relatively short pe-riod of time. Renfrew in 1972 defined the changes in southern Greece as more marked than any other sub-sequently seen in Greek prehistory, or any previously documented since the development of farming life.5

These circumstances have enticed researchers into a discussion of the reasons for the apparent cultural transformations. Several factors have been emphasized and combined in attempts to analyze their impacts on societal well-being. Although presented within an Early Helladic setting, these factors share much with analyses of societal collapse in other areas and periods. Indeed, they accord well with the five-tiered set of factors of societal collapse listed by Diamond: environmental damage, climate change, hostile neighbors, friendly neighbors, and societal response.6 Within the Early Helladic context, environmental stresses included a combination of deforestation, erosion, and climate change. The hostile neighbors were early on identi-fied as invaders (Haley and Blegen write of the com-ing of the Greeks),7 and the friendly neighbors can

be found in the trade networks of the coeval spheres of the Aegean. Finally, the responses of Early Helladic societies to any combination of these disturbances are generally thought to have been unsuccessful. The re-sult, in the end, was a wide-ranging cultural transfor-mation, the demise of a complex society.

Here, we revisit these ideas and explanatory mod-els in relation to societal changes that have long been noted. Our aims are to reevaluate these theories and to offer an updated perspective on the period surround-ing 2200 B.C.E. We do not dismiss any of the factors for change that have been previously suggested; ele-ments of all of them surely influenced the Early Hel-ladic worlds and were, to varying degrees, parties in the change. Our basic concern is that too little atten-tion has been given to the human component in the developments. Terms such as collapse and break-down often seem to imply total societal failurein reality a rather unlikely scenario. More accurate nar-ratives are likely to arise if scholars consider the com-plexity of most societies, allow individuals a more prominent role in the changes, refrain from casting the society as a working agent, and consider the aftermaths of collapse in a more positive light. This shift in emphasis marks much of the response to Dia-monds work.8 Most recently, McAnany and Yoffee have taken on the problems of simplistic reasoning in relation to societal transformations and have argued that resilience in the face of societal crisis, rather than collapse, is the leitmotif of the human story from the earliest civilizations to the present.9 So far, the Early Helladic people have been given little or no room to act on any problems of their time or to have any part in the outcome of the events. The circumstances of the Early Helladic collapse have therefore been insufficiently explored. Similarly underestimated are the limitations of time and scale on understand-ings of these events. One problem is the scopethe geographic scale and chronological reachof the material with which these theories are built, which leads very easily to generalizations that obscure rather than enlighten understandings of the past. Therefore, we focus our discussion on the northeastern Pelopon-nese, the cradle of much research on the Early Hel-ladic period and one part of the mainland where the noted changes were especially marked.

We begin with a timeline of potentially meaningful processes leading up to and beyond 2200 B.C.E. that

4 On corridor buildings, see, e.g., Shaw 1987; Nilsson 2004; Peperaki 2004, 2010; Weiberg 2007, 3757; ONeill 2008.

5 Renfrew 1972, 116.6 Diamond 2005, 1115.

7 Haley and Blegen 1928.8 deMenocal and Cook 2005; Tainter 2008.9 McAnany and Yoffee 2010, 1011.

THE DEMISE OF EARLY HELLADIC II SOCIETY IN THE PELOPONNESE2013] 3

may help contextualize the changes at the transition from EH II to EH III. This sequence will form the ba-sis of our review of the factors previously suggested to have guided those developments. This review is followed by a discussion of the human dimensions in the noted transformations. Although there were no doubt many factors leading to those transformations, we argue that a fundamentally changed society is to a large extent the result of a mental process.10 Keys to understanding cultural transformation are likely to be found in that process, which in turn generates material culture. In the final section, we introduce the framework of resilience theoryan inspiration and motivation for a reevaluation of the events and processes of the Early Helladic periodto highlight internal interactions within Early Helladic society and the positive effects of change. We hope to begin to formulate a nuanced and extended view of the sec-ond half of the Early Bronze Age in the northeastern Peloponnese.

patterns in the argive landscape

Site numbers and locations fluctuated during the entire Early Bronze Age.11 Likewise, new practices and new types of material culture were being introduced into the lives of the Early Helladic people at various points during the third millennium B.C.E. This has prompted researchers to divide the Early Bronze Age into a number of periods, phases, or cultures that highlight the changes.12 For the purposes of this article, we focus on settlement history and illustrate the developments by dividing the history of the Early Bronze Age Argolid and Corinthia into three stages marked by socioenvironmental changes.13 According to present evidence, these three stages are parallel to

the three periods of the relative chronology of the Early Helladic period, but it is probable that in real-ity the process was more gradual and less generalized than any relative chronology.

Peopling the LandscapeThe first stage is the intensified peopling of the

landscape beginning around the transition from the Neolithic period to the Bronze Age. Some field sur-veys in the focus area have noted a rise in the number of sites in the Final Neolithic period, while in other survey areas the earliest increase that could be docu-mented was at the advent of the Early Bronze Age (figs. 1, 2).14 A substantial rise during the Final Neo-lithic period was documented in the Berbati-Limnes area: an increase from two, or possibly four, Late Neo-lithic sites to 19 definite Final Neolithic findspots.15 As discussed below, the increase in the number of sites and their wide distribution indicate a change in land-use patterns. Most of these new sites are quite small, and their locations and finds suggest a combination economy based on both agriculture and herding.16 In the Berbati-Limnes region, the transition to the Early Bronze Age is defined by a decrease in the number of sites, whereas in the southern Argolid, EH I is the first major phase with plentiful material (in the latter area, field surveys have documented only three definite sites from the Final Neolithic period but 23 from EH I).17 In the southern Argolid, two of the three Final Neolithic sites also show EH I activity, and in the Berbati-Limnes region, seven of the 11 EH I sites, or two-thirds, were used also during the preceding period.18 Locales that were given up in the latter region include, most no-tably, the Klisoura ravine (i.e., the portal toward the Argive Plain), the hills between Berbati and Limnes,

10 Cf. Knappett 2005; McEnroe 2010.11 For important discussions on the interpretative prob-

lems of survey fi ndings in relation to settlement patterns, see Whitelaw 2000; Wright 2004; Pullen 2011b. For results of ex-tensive surveys, see, e.g., Kilian 1984; Weisshaar 1990.

12 E.g., Renfrew 1972; Rutter 1979; Wiencke 1989; Brood-bank 2000.

13 For other reviews of settlement patterns in the Early Bronze Age Peloponnese, see Wiencke 1989, 49799; For-sn 1992, 17696; Whitelaw 2000; Rutter 2001; Pullen 2003, 2011b; Wright 2004; Alram-Stern 2011. For overviews of sur-veys conducted on the Greek mainland, see Rutter 2001, 97108, fi g. 1; Pullen 2008; 2011b, pl. 2.1. For an overview of research on individual settlements, see Pullen 1985; Forsn 1992; Alram-Stern 2004.

14 The long duration of the Final Neolithic period (1,400 years) in comparison with the EH I period (ca. 450 years), however, should be kept in mind when considering these pe-riods and their impact on the landscape (Pullen 2011b, 21,

fi g. 2.2). Furthermore, if one calculates the number of cites per century for each period, as Pullen has most recently ar-gued one should do (Pullen 2008, 23, 26), the graphs in fi g. 1 herein would look somewhat different, but the general pic-ture would not be altered. Fig. 1 illustrates the number of sites found in each survey area. Except in the case of the Phlius Basin, a selection was made by the surveyors to qualify the def-inition of a site. So far, the Early Bronze Age site numbers for the two further intensive surveys conducted in our focus areathe Eastern Korinthia Archaeological Survey and the related Saronic Harbors Archaeological Research Projecthave not been published (Pullen 2011b [with further refer-ences]) and could not be included in fi g. 1.

15 Johnson 1996, esp. 6572.16 Johnson 1996, 656.17 Pullen 1995, 7, 1011.18 Pullen 1995, 7; Forsn 1996, 77, fi g. 2; Johnson 1996, 66,

fi g. 37.


Fig. 1. Comparison of the number of sites identified by five intensive surveys in the northeastern Peloponnese. The data are taken from Runnels et al. 1995; Wells and Runnels 1996; Mee and Forbes 1997; Casselmann et al. 2004; Wright 2004 (drawing by E. Weiberg).

Fig. 2. Intensive survey areas in the northeastern Peloponnese: A, Phlius Basin; B, Nemea Valley Archaeological Project;C, Berbati-Limnes Archaeological Survey; D, Argolid Exploration Project; E, Methana Survey Project; F, Eastern Korinthia Archaeological Survey/Saronic Harbors Archaeological Research Project (including both intensively and extensively studied regions) (drawing by M. Lindblom; modified from Cherry and Davis 2001, fig. 10.4).


and the high-altitude Miyio Valley.19 In all, this new distribution of sites seems to represent a change in where Early Helladic peoplein contrast to the fash-ion of the preceding periodchose to settle. As noted recently by Pullen, EH I sites in the southern Argolid and in the Berbati Valley are found on lower slopes and valley bottoms, while Final Neolithic sites gener-ally are found upland and on hillslopes.20

Choosing FocusAround the transition to the EH II period, ca. 2700

B.C.E., the spread into the landscape seems to have halted. This marks the beginning of a slow and grad-ual consolidation of settlement spanning the EH II period. Variations are evident during these 450 years in terms of both the number of settlements and their material expressions. At present, there is no known evidence that would enable us to treat these variations as separate stages; the specific chronological outlines are blurred by the practice in many archaeological publications of refraining from detailed dating with-in the EH II period.21 The variations will instead be highlighted below as important tendencies during a longer process suggestive of the gradual formalization of the settlements as well as settlement consolidation or nucleation. The degree of the latter is difficult to assess, but its general occurrence is indicated by the growing investments in certain locales, the depopula-tion of others, and the growing functional and spatial diversification between sites.22

In the Berbati-Limnes area and on the Methana pen-insula, the number of sites decreased with the onset

of the EH II period (see fig. 1). No such decrease ap-pears in the Nemea Valley or the Phlius Basin,23 or in the southern Argolid. For the latter region, however, a certain amount of clustering during this time is ac-knowledged,24 and the many individual sites within the limited region of the Fournoi Valley should perhaps not be viewed as definitely distinct from one another.25 The change in the number of sites between EH I and EH II is not very significant, but it does indicate some changes in socioeconomic practices, including site differentiation in terms of socioeconomic functions and site size, enabling enhanced discussions of site hierarchies.26 Incipient nucleation has been suggest-ed for the Berbati-Limnes area, where in EH II some sites grew, probably at the expense of others that were abandoned after the EH I period.27 Figure 3 illustrates the geographic distribution of published settlements with defined early EH II occupation.

From at least early EH II, certain locales gained importance over others in the surrounding area. As noted by Wiencke, central places were first established at this time, a development that is marked above all by intensified construction and specialized activities at specific locales.28 Pullens recent publication of the settlement at Tsoungiza provides a welcome and de-tailed analysis of early EH II activities at one of these emerging centers.29 Like Tsoungiza, these topographi-cal centers had, in many cases, been occupied for some time; many upheld their positions within their respective regions into the second half of the EH II period (fig. 4) and throughout much of the Bronze Age with few, if any, interruptions. The distance

19 Forsn 1996, fi g. 1; Johnson 1996, fi g. 2. Findspot 12 in the Miyio Valley was resettled in EH II as one of only two new activity areas from EH III (Forsn 1996, 118).

20 Pullen 2008, 23. Douzougli-Zachos (1998, 34) notes that several EH I sites on the Argive Plain were located 12 km from their Final Neolithic counterparts, which were then abandoned. Habitation may then have been relocated from Lerna to Kephalari Magoula, from the Aspis of Argos to Mak-rovouni, and from Aria to the Talioti Valley locations. See Weisshaar (1990, 21, pl. 1) for the documentation of 33 EH I (Talioti-phase) sites on the Argive Plain. See also Alram-Stern (2011) for a recent discussion of EH I settlement distribution.

21 One example is the decrease in the number of sites com-monly placed at the transition between EH II and EH III (see fi g. 1). In relation to this, Rutter (2001, 12224) has suggested that archaeologists may have infl ated the suddenness of the events by neglecting to date assemblages precisely. Cf. Jame-son et al. (1994, table 4.8), who classifi es EH III as dispersed and EH IIIMiddle Helladic as nucleated.

22 The actual size of settlements can seldom be accurately deduced, making population estimates a very delicate issue. For attempts, see, e.g., Jameson et al. 1994, 54247, tables B.1, B.2.

23 The Early Bronze Age results from the Nemea Valley Ar-chaeological Project are not yet published in enough detail to allow an evaluation of the apparent rise in site numbers from EH I to EH II. The numbers in fi g. 1 are based on primary sites, which are defi ned by Wright (2004, 121) as measured sitesi.e., those with a sherd distribution that allows an esti-mation of the settlement size at different timesa defi nition that may disfavor smaller EH I sites.

24 Jameson et al. 1994, 35354.25 Pullen 2008, 267.26 Kilian 1984, 623; Pullen 1985, 34466; 2008, 26; Kon-

sola 1986; Forsn 1992, 195; 1996, 119; Jameson et al. 1994, 35862.

27 Forsn 1996, 119. E.g., fi ndspots 405 and 414 grew at the expense of fi ndspots 408 and 518. Based on a combination of estimated site size and material cultural diversity, Forsn (1996, 119) proposes a three-tier hierarchical order: the main settlement of Mastos; three middle-level sites, one in each of the three main regions of the survey (fi ndspots 12, 39, 414); and three isolated farmsteads in the Berbati Valley (fi ndspots 35, 308, 405).

28 Wiencke 1989, 499500; see also Pullen 2011b, 201.29 Pullen 2011a.


Fig 3. Map of the Corinthia and the Argive Plain in the first half of the EH II period, showing settlements mentioned in the text: 1, Lerna; 2, Kephalari Magoula; 3, Makrovouni; 4, Tiryns; 5, Talioti Valley; 6, Asine; 7, Synoro; 8, Mastos; 9, findspot 35; 10, findspot 405; 11, findspot 414; 12, findspot 308; 13, findspot 43 (Vigliza); 14, findspot 44 (Vigliza); 15, findspot 39 (Vigliza); 16, findspot 12 (Miyio); 17, Zygouries; 18, Tsoungiza; 19, Petri; 20, Corinth; 21, Korakou; 22, Gonia (drawing by M. Lindblom).

between these main settlements averaged 10 km,30 a distance that allowed a one-day round-trip by foot (or by a small canoe of the kind used during the Early Bronze Age, as estimated by Broodbank).31 This may have been the preferred intersettlement distance in the late EH II landscape in a time of increased socio-economic complexity and perhaps competitiveness be-tween the local centers. Clearly, however, this distance cannot be generalized. In the southern Argolid, for example, the proposed principal settlements were lo-cated closer together, possibly because of topographyeach is the focus of its own small topographically delimited regionand some specifics of the social set-ting. In the northern Corinthia, no central settlement can as yet be defined. The socioeconomic organiza-

30 Wiencke 1989, 499.31 Broodbank 2000, 1016.32 Pullen 2011b, 28.

33 See Wiencke (1989) for a discussion of the differences between the fi rst and the second half of the EH II period.

tion of this coastal region may have been different; the settlements, such as those at Korakou and Gonia, were more tightly distributed and possibly also more stable over the long term.32

The process of settlement centralization was prob-ably enhanced toward the middle of the Early Hel-ladic period (a time comparable to Lerna III phases BC). One strong indication is the construction at this time of the first corridor houses.33 In fact, what is most clearly indicated from the archaeological record is that from around the middle of the third millenni-um B.C.E. the physical manifestations of the villages became more substantial, and the level of monumen-tality increased, leaving a more lasting mark on the landscape. These activities suggest an inclusion of a


Berbati Valley and findspot 12 in the neighboring Miyio Valley have produced clear evidence of late EH II occupation.36 The settlement at Synoro lacks mate-rial after the early phase of EH II.37 The whole Talioti Valley seems to have been depopulated. This valley, located between the main Argive Plain and the local area of Asine, was rather densely occupied in EH I and into early EH II, when it was finally abandoned.38 In all, this suggests the movement of people from geo-graphically marginal lands or from locations of minor importance,39 as well as the complete abandonment of some valleys (see fig. 4). On the Argive Plain proper, smaller settlements seem to have been depopulated.

34 Wiencke 1989, 49799. 35 E.g., Forsn 2002. This excavated Bronze Age settlement

was not included in the Berbati-Limnes Archaeological Sur-vey. See, however, Lindblom (2011) for the Early Helladic fi ndings from the later intensive survey of Mastos Hill.

36 Forsn 1996, 1035, 118.37 Wiencke 1989, 498.38 Douzougli 1987; Maran 1998, 1:89. The peak period

for this valley was probably EH I. The chronological extent of Talioti Ware is unknown, and although a late EH I date is

most often set, Maran (1998, 1:89) does not rule out that Talioti Ware could have been produced throughout the entireEH I period in the Argolid (3100/30002700 B.C.E.). As for the EH II period in the valley, Weisshaar (1990, 13) concludes that the pottery from the largest EH I and EH II fi ndspot in the valley, Panagia (fi ndspot 114), indicates an early EH II datewhich suggests an abandonment bereits einige Zeit vor dem Ende des Frhhelladisch IIand that the valley as a whole followed a similar pattern.

39 Alram-Stern 2011, 2078.

Fig. 4. Map of the northeastern Peloponnese in the second half of the EH II period, showing settlements mentioned in the text. Probable central settlements are indicated with a 10 km radius illustrating the geographic interrelationships of these settle-ments. The labels A6, A33, C11, E13, and F32 indicate Argolid Exploration Project findspots mentioned in the text (drawing by M. Lindblom).

greater number of people, as producers and/or re-ceivers of the symbolic and practical outcome of this process. A nucleation phase preceding 2200 B.C.E. also seems probable based on survey results and oc-cupation dates for some well-excavated and published settlements in the Corinthia and the Argive Plain (fig. 5).34 At that point, most of the proposed central settle-ments remained, while most of the minor settlements from early EH II had been abandoned (see fig. 3).

Among the surveys (see figs. 1, 2), only the record from the Berbati-Limnes Archaeological Survey pres-ents seemingly clear evidence for a reduction in site numbers at this time. Thus, only Mastos Hill35 in the


The settlement of Makrovouni, north of Argos, was one location that was abandoned after the first half of the EH II period.40 In contrast to the surrounding valleys, however, the plain did harbor at least two ma-jor settlements at this time: Tiryns and Lerna.41 The distance between the two settlements is 9 km as the crow fliesor as the boat goes, as both settlements would have been situated on the coast during the Early Helladic period. The structures and finds at these two sites suggest that they became focal points for many of the activities in the late EH II period.

Settlements may have become even more concen-trated in late EH II, at least in the area of the Corinthia and the Argive Plain. Some of the central locations in this region were abandoned before the final phase of the EH II period in favor of a few settlements that may have evolved into intraregional centers (where the development from the preceding stage was continued and augmented). It seems reasonable to assume that the abandonment of local centers was accompanied by depopulation of their home valleys. One settlement, which was abandoned early in the second half of the

40 Douzougli (1987) reports close to no fi nds from the pe-riod after a date comparable to Lerna III phase B.

41 These two settlements have produced only slight evi-dence of EH I occupation, and their position as relatively large settlements can only be ascertained from a date some-time into the EH II period. It is interesting to note that Kepha-lari Magoula, rather than Lerna, seems to have been the main settlement in the southwestern corner of the Argive Plain, at least in EH I (Douzougli 1987, 17175; Douzougli-Zachos

1998, 34). Other potentially signifi cant locations on the Ar-give Plain, based on their topographic and strategic positions, are Argos and Mycenae, although the chronological specif-ics of these sites cannot be fully evaluated. For recent discus-sions of these sites, see Demakopoulou 1998 (Argos); Shelton 2010 (Mycenae). On the basis of the full Urfi rnis coating on the published pottery, the Argos assemblage discussed by De-makopoulou (1998) seems to date to an early phase of EH II.

Fig. 5. Chronological information for the settlements from the Corinthia and the Argive Plain mentioned in the text. Solid lines indicate definite occupation periods; broken lines indicate data that is uncertain because of low-intensity material and/or incomplete publication (drawing by M. Lindblom).


EH II period, was Tsoungiza in the Nemea Valley.42 Zygouries in the Cleonae Valley43 and Corinth to the north44 may also have been fully or partly abandoned before the final phase of the EH II period (as it is defined by ceramics at Lerna and Tiryns). The en-ticement at the time may have been residence in the coastal regions, and so far Lerna and Tiryns stand out in this regard.45

Much of the identity of Lerna and Tiryns is probably attributable to their coastal position. It is evident that during the last century of the EH II period, the devel-opment in these two centers did not stop but rather accelerated. At Lerna, the main indicator of this is the so-called House of the Tiles, which was built in Lerna III phase D; also indicative is the refinement in the seal motifs of the sealing deposit found in one small room of this building.46 The House of the Tiles was the second corridor house built at Lerna, replacing Building BG, which was constructed nearby some 100 years earlier in early to mid Lerna III phase C.47 Note-worthy also is the suggestion by Pullen that a corridor house existed at Zygouries during a time comparable to Lerna III phase C. This building was apparently not replaced within the excavated area, however, and the area was eventually used for more ordinary hous-ing.48 At Tiryns, architectural development continued without interruption through several fire destructions in the second half of the EH II period. The famous Rundbau, a circular monumental building that was probably multifunctional, was built on the highest elevation sometime in the developed or late phase of EH II and stood until the end of the EH II period.49

Staying PutThe expansion phases at Lerna and Tiryns were

brought to a halt ca. 2200 B.C.E. Both settlements were continuously inhabited, but the material expressions

of the occupation changed. Both the House of the Tiles and the Rundbau were destroyed and not rebuilt. Freestanding apsidal houses replaced the agglomer-ated housing complexes of the preceding period. A decrease in housing complexity seems to have taken place. This marked the third stage of development in the northeastern Peloponnese in the Early Bronze Age and lasted until about 200 years before the end of the Early Helladic period. Most field surveys show a distinct drop in the number of sites at this time, if not earlier (see fig. 1).50 In the Berbati-Limnes region, the upland findspot 12 was abandoned, and only the Mas-tos Hill in the Berbati Valley was occupied in EH III.51 In the southern Argolid, four of the most long-term, stable sites also continued into the EH III period.52

Our knowledge of the postEH II history of some places is still somewhat vague. In all, the evidence sug-gests that many of the major settlements occupied in the final phase of the EH II period continued to be settled in EH III, but on a less significant scale (see fig. 5). There seem to have been few or no new sites occupied at this point. The settlement of Tsoungiza, however, was reoccupied early in the EH III period.53 Forsn suggests that Zygouries may also have been reoccupied in this phase;54 Petri may have been as well, although perhaps somewhat later.55 These events might signal a reoccupation of the interior. This trend, however, seems to have lasted no more than 100 years. Thus, Tsoungiza and Zygouries, as well as Prosymna at around the same time, were deserted by the end of the EH III period, not to be occupied again until late in the Middle Helladic period.56

theories of change: the argolid and corinthia during the early bronze age

With the above variations in mind, we turn now to a review of the previously suggested theories concerning

42 Pullen 2011a, 1415, table 1.2; 378; 9056. Petri, in con-trast, seems to have been occupied until the latest phase of EH II (Kostoula 2004).

43 Forsn 1992, 689, fi g. 3; see also Maran 1998, 1:16364, 17980.

44 Lavezzi 2003, 73. 45 Although it seems likely that there were local centers to

the north and along the coastline of the Corinthian Gulf that paralleled some of the activity at Lerna and Tiryns, no cor-ridor houses are as yet known from this region. A building thought to be a corridor house has, however, been excavated at Helike, 75 km west of Corinth along the Corinthian Gulf (Katsonopoulou 2011).

46 Heath 1958; Weingarten 1997; Wiencke 2000, 213304.47 Wiencke 2000, 18597.48 Pullen 1985, 206; 1986; Maran 1998, 1:164.49 Maran 1998, 1:162, 19798. 50 In the preliminary publication of the survey in the Phlius

Basin, however, no division is made between EH II and EH III (Casselmann et al. 2004, fi g. 19).

51 Forsn 1992, 535; 2002 (in which Forsn dismisses the argument for an early EH III hiatus at the location); Lind-blom 2011.

52 See Jameson et al. (1994) for sites A6, E9, E13, F5/F32; see also Pullen 2011b, 26. The same sites show occupation in the Final Neolithic, EH IIII, and Middle and Late Helladic periods.

53 Pullen 2011a, 54344.54 Forsn 1992, 679, fi g. 3.55 Kostoula (2004, 1145) dates the EH III pottery to Lerna

IV phase 2 at the earliest.56 Forsn 1996, fi g. 3. The suggested abandonment of

Tsoungiza before late EH III is not supported by the recent publication of the settlement in which Pullen (2011a, 54344) defi nes the late phase, equivalent to Lerna IV phase 3, as the time of the enlarged EH III settlement.


the EH II/III transition, considering specifically the three most popular factors of previous models: envi-ronment, climate, and migration.

Signs of Environmental StressEnvironmental changes have long been identified

as factors contributing to the Early Bronze Age cul-tural transformations in the northeastern Pelopon-nese. Wide-reaching erosional episodes following intensified land use (and abuse) are most frequently cited. Studies have suggested there were episodes of soil instability and subsequent sedimentation in the area during the prehistoric periods. Zangger outlines two episodes on the Argive Plain (fig. 6);57 the most extensive one was marked by the culmination of the transgression of the postglacial sea rise on the plain and was radiocarbon dated to a maximum age of 2564 220 B.C.E.58 Between this time and the end of the EH II period, alluvial sedimentation caused the recession of the shoreline by some 700 m,59 as well as the partial filling of Lake Lerna, a freshwater lagoon separated from the Argolic Gulf by a thin beach bar-rier formed by sedimentation from the mouth of the Inakhos River.60 By the end of the Early Helladic pe-riod, large parts of the Argive Plain were covered by floodplain deposits (stream flood deposits and over-bank loams) 13 m thickthicker along the coast and most extensive on the inner plain and around the streams.61 Furthermore, during the course of the Early Bronze Age, just south of the Argive Plain, the inhabitants of Asine saw the island they occupied be-ing transformed into a headland by the deposition of eroded material. Although a small bay was formed, it, too, slowly filled.62 According to Zangger, all this was caused by the erosion of soil from the foothills along the edges of the plain (the soil was carried to-ward the plain via the extensive drainage system of the same mountains), by the flooding of the ephemeral

streams and rivers, and by the deposition of loam.63 Farther south in the Argolid, the Pikrodafni alluvium, one of four observed Holocene episodes of increased sedimentation, is similarly noted in coastal areas but more broadly dated based on the inclusion of EH II sherds in the debris and on Late Helladic material on top of the alluvium. The Pikrodafni alluvium is widely estimated to date to 25001000 B.C.E. but is generally treated in Early Helladic contexts.64

These processes of erosion and sedimentation in the region of the Argive Plain and in the southern Argolid have often been associated with the general societal development of the Argolid. There has been a wide consensus that one major cause of the loss of soil from upland areas was an intensification of agricultural activity, which was especially focused on the upland areas during the first half of the millennium, when the number of sites peaked.65 It has been argued that the introduction of the deep plow and draft animals made it possible to till these new rain-fed soils deeply enough to ensure the arability of land away from the spring-fed lowland.66 Intensified herding is also seen as part of the puzzle; grazing herds are suggested to have caused damage to unstable upland soils.67 Van Andel and colleagues have cautioned that it would be rash to attribute the EH III decline to the soil erosion documented by the Pikrodafni.68 Nevertheless, one of their conclusions is that after a long use of the land-scape, ultimately damage was inevitable.69 In all, the general juxtaposition of these erosional episodes and a proposed drop in settlement numbers after the EH II period have led researchers to cite these erosional episodes (sometimes classified as catastrophic)70 in their explanations of the decline.71

The issue is more nuanced, however. Based on the evidence currently available, erosion episodes during the Early Bronze Age in the northeastern Pelopon-nese seem to have been confined to coastal regions

57 Zangger 1991, 1993, 1994a.58 Zangger (1993, 502) also identifi es a less extensive epi-

sode, defi ned as Late Neolithic/Early Helladic and put into the time frame of 45002500 B.C.E.

59 Zangger 1994a, 19596.60 Zangger 1991, 1113. Zangger (1991, 13) proposes that

Lake Lerna had two phases of maximum extent, the second of which dates to the Hellenistic period.

61 van Andel et al. 1990, 384; Zangger 1993, 17.62 Zangger 1994b, esp. 23132.63 Zangger 1993, 17; see also van Andel et al. 1990, 38384,

fi g. 4.64 van Andel et al. 1986, 1990. Studies were initiated with-

in the Argolid Exploration Project (van Andel and Runnels 1987; Jameson et al. 1994, esp. 17294, 355).

65 E.g., van Andel et al. 1986, 1990; Zangger 1993; Whitelaw

2000, 144.66 van Andel and Runnels 1987, 845; Pullen 1992; Zangger

1993; Jameson et al. 1994, 353; Johnson 1996, 66.67 Whitelaw 2000, 154.68 van Andel et al. 1986, 113. See also van Andel and Run-

nels (1987, 93), who argue that political upheaval was a more likely cause than environmental diffi culties.

69 van Andel et al. 1986, 113.70 Pope and van Andel 1984; van Andel et al. 1986; Wells

1994. Van Andel et al. (1990, 392) note the problem of actu-ally knowing how catastrophic the consequences of erosion actually were.

71 E.g., Forsn 1992, 260; Wells 1994; Wells and Runnels 1996, 45556; Maran 1998, 1:25559; Whitelaw 2000, 152; Alram-Stern 2004, 531.


(the Argive Plain, Asine, and survey locations in the southern Argolid). The general date of these episodes is the second half of the Early Bronze Age, with an on-set ca. 2500 B.C.E. Geomorphological analyses have been carried out in the inland valleys of the Argolid and Corinthia (in relation to the archaeological survey projects in the Phlius Basin and the Nemea Valley), but no heightened sedimentations have been linked to the Early Bronze Age.72 This is especially emphasized by Maran, who concludes that although the Early Hellad-ic activity in the Phlius region was quite extensive, no connection can be made in this region between geo-morphological changes and the EH II/III decline.73 It should therefore be clear that no straightforward

connection can be made between Early Bronze Age land use and environmental degradation.

Based on the chronology available, the periods of increased sedimentation during the Early Bronze Age should be tied to the increased consolidation of settle-ment during the second half of the EH II period.74 Therefore, erosion seems an unlikely cause for the de-population of the greater landscape but a much more likely result thereof. We suggest that a convergence of population resulted in a need for much more intensive and localized cultivation and herding. In this scenario, erosion was accelerated by increased deforestation on nearby foothills and possibly by increased careless-ness, such as shortened fallow in times of prosperity

72 Two pronounced prehistoric sedimentation phases in the Phlius Basin have been identifi ed, one during the Neo-lithic period (with a peak ca. 7000 b.p. [calibrated]) and one during Middle and Late Helladic times (beginning ca. 4000 b.p., with a peak in one locality ca. 3000 b.p.) (Casselmann et al. 2004, 717, fi g. 10). The prehistoric episode evidenced in the Nemea Valley also predates the Early Bronze Age and belongs to the Neolithic period (Wright et al. 1990, 58791). (The dating of stream-deposit unit H1 was determined by the

inclusion of Early Neolithic pottery and an Early Bronze Age site on the surface.) Although the Berbati Valley has been mentioned in relation to the Early Bronze Age (e.g., Pullen 1992, 48), the dates of the erosion episodes in this valley re-main unclear (Whitelaw 2000, 144).

73 Casselmann et al. 2004, 53.74 See Fuchs and Wagner (in Casselman et al. 2004, 17; see

also Fuchs 2007) on the importance of considering in which cultural phases erosion and sedimentation occurred.

Fig. 6. Sedimentation history of the Argive Plain (drawing by M. Lindblom; adapted from Zangger 1993, fig. 21).


and negligence in upholding measures for soil main-tenance.75 The concentration rather than dispersal of habitation would then have been decisive. However, although some centralization was likely a factor in the inland regions of the Nemea Valley and the Phlius Basin, it apparently did not result in any large-scale environmental alterations in those locales. That ero-sion did take place on the Argive Plain could indicate enhanced activities in this region in late EH II.76

The Climate FactorClimate change is often identified as a factor contrib-

uting to changes in the human presence in the environ-ment. The general trend toward a drier climate would be one such change, and Zangger cites the postglacial climate optimum and the high sea levelalong with new agricultural techniquesas key factors for sedi-mentation.77 The general formation of debris flows, such as the Pikrodafni, was attributed by van Andel and colleagues to drier climatic conditions, which would have reduced the tree coverage (possibly also caused by active land clearing) and would have led to sheet ero-sion followed by the deposition of these flows.78 Chang-es in the rainfall patterns, such as years of exceptional rains, was mentioned as a possible additional trigger for this type of erosion.79 Scholars have furthermore in-ferred climate changes based on late third-millennium proxy data from the Near East, particularly Weiss data from Tell Leilan, Syria.80 Weiss argues that climate forced changes at the site, and he cites comparanda from several other regions and cultures throughout the eastern Mediterranean and the Near East.81 In Egypt, Mesopotamia, Palestine, and the Indus Valley, climate

sequences suggest a rapid increase in aridity ca. 2200 B.C.E. that might relate to the (arguably global) 4.2 ka(i.e., 4200 b.p. [calibrated]) drought event.82 Based on these findings, Wilson concludes that [i]t is difficult to believe that the Greek islands and mainland would not also have been affected, possibly with a prolonged pe-riod of crop yields, and consequent social disruption.83

Assessing the impact of climate on erosion and on events in general ca. 2200 B.C.E. is not, however, unproblematic. For example, few detailed climate se-quences (i.e., detailed enough to allow unambiguous interpretation of proxy data and dating precision) are available from Greecenone from central and southern Greecethat could inform a contextual-ized and integrated view of the climate and possible correlations to ancient societies. Furthermore, Finn and Holmgrens recent survey of available climate series data from the Aegean and eastern Mediterra-nean regions has produced results that question the practice of using climate data from other regions to posit climate-based explanatory models within the mainland Greek context.84 As illustrated in figure 7, an overall transition from the generally wetter Early Holocene is clearly distinguishable beginning ca. 3450 B.C.E. and is followed in certain areas by fully developed aridity ca. 22502050 B.C.E.85 Regional dif-ferences are nevertheless evident in the climate data and indicate discrepancies, for instance, between the Near East and Greece.

Roberts and colleagues recently argued for pat-terns of climate heterogeneity (i.e., local variability) throughout the Mediterranean basin, highlighting the importance of proximity between climate and

75 As suggested by van Andel et al. 1986, 11317, 12526; see also Dusar et al. 2011.

76 Cf. Van Andel and Zangger 1990, 147; Forsn 1996, 119. The pollen data from the former Lake Lerna seems to sup-port this scenario ( Jahns 1993, fi gs. 5, 6). Jahns (1993, 197) identifi es a period starting ca. 2500 B.C.E. (around the mid-dle of her subzone IIIa) when [w]oodland clearance and other kinds of land use seem to have increased; the period was marked by an increase in pine and in evergreen woody species. In a recent reinterpretation of the data, however, Butzer (2005, 1780) deems the values for the period from 3500 B.C.E. indicative of fairly modest land use intensityincluding partial clearance and upland grazing (causing an expansion of the maquis)acknowledging that this stands in stark contrast to some other interpretations of the period.

77 Zangger 1993, 83.78 Van Andel et al. 1986, fi g. 6; 1990, 38182. Wetter condi-

tions, according to van Andel and colleagues, would have led to stream fl ood deposits caused by the erosion of gullies and more concentrated runoff.

79 Van Andel et al. 1986, 11617.80 Maran 1998, 2:45253; Lavezzi 2003, 734; Shelmerdine

2008 (esp. the chapters by D. Pullen, C. Broodbank, D. Wil-son, and S.W. Manning). The consensus on this point was also emphasized by Moody (2010) in her review of Shelmerdines (2008) The Cambridge Companion to the Aegean Bronze Age.

81 E.g., Weiss et al. 1993; Weiss 1997; see also Dalfes et al. 1997; deMenocal 2001; Weiss and Bradley 2001; Staubwasser and Weiss 2006.

82 E.g., Mayewski et al. 2004; Booth et al. 2005. Discussions of the 4.2 ka event relate the dry periods in the Near East to global climatic changes that encompassed widespread cool-ing in the North Atlantic and severe drought in midconti-nental North America (Weiss and Bradley 2001; Booth et al. 2005). The global character of the droughts ca. 2200 B.C.E. has recently been discussed and questioned (Mayewski et al. 2004; Wanner et al. 2008; Finn and Holmgren 2010).

83 Wilson 2008, 98.84 Finn and Holmgren 2010; Finn et al. 2011.85 For detailed references relating to each proxy record in-

dicated in fi g. 7 herein and for an extended discussion about climate variability in the eastern Mediterranean, see Finn et al. 2011.


Fig. 7. Climate variability in the eastern Mediterranean: top, general temporal climate evolution in the eastern Mediterranean (bars represent the number of proxy records, which indicate wetter and drier conditions); bottom, geographic representation of the climate in the eastern Mediterranean as recorded by proxies during the period 24502050 B.C.E., highlighting regional incoherence (drawing by M. Finn).


archaeological data.86 The dry climate within the zone from Anatolia and the Levant to the Indus region un-derwent sudden and drastic changes (dry events) ca. 2200 B.C.E., which means that societies faced drastical-ly more arid conditions. However, both the abruptness and the geographic extent of these climate processes point to complex local conditions governed by, for example, topography, making regional inferences complicated.87 Although the Bronze Age as a whole was a period of increasingly dry conditions, there is no direct evidence for a climate event in the Pelopon-nese, and aridity was apparently not as severe there as it was farther east.88 The period of arid conditions in the Near East marked a regionally delimited step in the overall transition from the wetter Early Holocene to the drier Middle and Late Holocene.89 Such long-term changes may have caused problems for agriculture and triggered changes in vegetation, which could have led to erosion. In other words, climate change could have been a factor in the societal and environmental developments of the second half of the Early Bronze Age. It is difficult, however, to consider local climate conditions, especially in the case of southern Greece, because of the lack of pertinent climate data. A direct comparison between circumstances in the Near East and those in our study area is therefore not advisable, considering the differences, for example, in climate variability, precipitation, and lifestyle between the two areas.90 At present, there is no straightforward evi-dence for the direct impact of climate change on the history of the societies in northeastern Peloponnese.

Migration (and Invasion)In 1928, Blegen noted that the Early Helladic cul-

ture seems to have been overrun and overwhelmed by a fresh and vigorous invasion, and EH civilization was brought to an endabrupt in some places, more gradual in others.91 Some 30 years later, Caskey elabo-rated on the idea, and his theory has been the focus of much subsequent research. The theory is founded mainly on two facts: (1) the appearance of new fea-tures of material culture after 2200 B.C.E., and (2) a

string of settlement destructions by fire around the same time. At the center of all this was the settlement of Lerna, which was excavated in the 1950s by Caskey.92 He found that the House of the Tilesthe second of two corridor houses at the sitehad been destroyed by violent fire, an event that was followed by the in-troduction of a largely different material culture. He returned to Blegens idea of hostile invaders, suggest-ing that a foreign invasion created widespread havoc in this region and brought to an end the bright flow-ering of human society which has left its traces in the material remains of the second EH period.93 Other scholars then followed the detailed ceramic sequences he had established for Lerna and moved the dates of similar breaks/destructions elsewhere from the end of the Early Bronze Age to some 100 years earlier. All these episodes were thereby made contemporaneous.94

Since then, scholars have been able to show that the appearance of new features of material culture was not so sudden, nor were the destructions as contempora-neous, as once believed by Caskey. Forsn proposes the compromise that although the number of destroyed sites was somewhat higher ca. 2200 B.C.E., sites were destroyed throughout much of the Early Bronze Age.95 In response, Maran, giving the example of the Myce-naean period, points out that cultural deterioration and a breakdown of sociopolitical hierarchies are not necessarily followed by cultural change. With respect to this, destructions not followed by visible change/discontinuity in architecture should not be given the same weight as destructions that are followed by such change. As argued by Maran, destruction followed by architectural change did in fact occur more commonly at the EH IIIII transition,96 but the cultural transfor-mation is now viewed as a process played out during a longer period of timea Wendezeitrather than a sud-den event.97 As a result, invasion theories have fallen out of fashion. The differences noted between EH II and EH III material culture, however, cannot be as firmly dismissed. Therefore, many scholars continue to pursue the idea of migration (without hostility) to understand these changes. Although, as shown by

86 Roberts et al. 2011a.87 Finn et al. 2011; Roberts et al. 2011a. The ultimate cause

of these events is also a matter of ongoing debate (e.g., Weiss and Bradley 2001; Arz et al. 2006).

88 Roberts et al. (2011b) suggest that regions with more precipitation were less sensitive to changes in precipitation than semiarid and continental regions (with 200350 mm per year). This means that Greek societies, with ca. 600 mm per year, would have had better chances to deal with any similar changes.

89 Finn et al. 2011; Roberts et al. 2011b.

90 Contra Fuchs 2007.91 Haley and Blegen 1928, 150.92 For the fi nal publication of the architecture of EH II

Lerna, see Wiencke 2000. 93 Caskey 1960, 301; see also 299303.94 The theory and its effects are summarized by Forsn

1992, 1213.95 Forsn 1992, 251.96 Maran 1998, 1:22223.97 Maran 1998, 2:460.


Forsn, new features of material culture seem to have arrived at different times and should be seen as signs of continuous contacts during the EH IIMH period,98 the apparent contact with areas to the north (Thessaly and Macedonia), northwest (Albania and Dalmatia), and east (the Cyclades and western Ana-tolia) is often connected to the movement not only of ideas and material culture but also of people.99

Multidimensional KulturwandelMaran has presented the most complex and well-

argued interpretive framework for the Kulturwandel, or cultural change, after 2200 B.C.E.;100 in this model, he assigns a key role to migrating people. He combines strands of many earlier theories and emphasizes that the best explanation for the cultural transformation can be found in a complex combination of influen-tial factors. He further acknowledges that the factors may vary between regions and that einem regelrech-ten Zusammenbruch der hergebrachten gesellschaft-lichen Organisationsform can only be documented in the Peloponnese.101 Using Tainters studies of com-plexity as a problem-solving tool,102 Maran argues that intensified problem-solving schemes were carried out during the second half of the EH II period (fig. 8).103 He characterizes EH II development in southern Greece as progress toward a more complex and in-creasingly expensive social structure and destabilized sociopolitical functions.

Environmental factors also serve as fundamental triggers in Marans theory. He emphasizes this point by stating that it is kaum mehr daran zu zweifeln, da am Zusammenbruch der Periode der Korridorhus-er in der Argolis, und wahrscheinlich allgemein in Sdgriechenland, in entscheidendem Mae Umwelt-faktoren beteiligt waren.104 Relating the findings by Weiss, Maran argues for climate-driven changes that, in combination with agricultural misuse, caused the loss of arable land through episodes of soil instability. In combination, these circumstances created bottle-

necks in the food supply and, in the end, an unsustain-able lifestyle that led to the EH II breakdown. He also argues that the cultural change that appeared after-ward was caused by the influx of foreign people into the power vacuum created by the breakdown.105 At the heart of this argument is the addition of people from the west Balkans who used the disorganization in the Helladic area to take control of the southerly points of an important northsouth maritime trading route that covered the Adriatic and Ionian Seas.106 This means that these newcomers were not the cause but the effect of the destabilized sociopolitical structures.107

human dimensions

In Marans model, therefore, the only really active players in the history of the period were the so-called outsiders, the foreigners moving in and bringing with them new material culture and new techniques. We are not in a position to question Marans argument that people from the west Balkans had an increased presence in the Peloponnese ca. 2200 B.C.E. We do, however, feel the need to question the impact of such a presence. Many of the arguments explaining the events around the EH II/III transition take a rather deterministic standpoint; humans, for example, are cited as the cause of erosion, but as a generic group rather than as intentional individuals. We believe it is inadequate to list the material causes for change without also highlighting the people involved. Erosion does not in itself bring about decreased settlement numbers, nor does climate cause a ceramic style to change. People do. People need to be allowed to take in and react to new circumstances.108 As recently stated by Yoffee, [a]ny attempt to reduce ancient states to vague and undifferentiated societies. . . disregards the very pulse of the past.109 Even in the face of trig-gering events or processes, the future is to a large ex-tent shaped by people in the present.

The most critical development in the Early Bronze Age Peloponnese may not have been the EH IIIII

98 Forsn 1992, 257.99 Forsn 1992, 1520 (with references and a summary of

theories launched by various scholars); Maran 1998, 2:45152.100 Maran 1998.101 Maran 1998, 2:443.102 Tainter 1988.103 Maran 1998, 2:45253.104 Maran 1998, 2:452.105 Maran 1998, 2:45254.106 Maran (1998, 2:31155) identifi es the incoming people

as originating from the west Balkans based on a comprehen-sive treatment of the history of this regionin particular, the Cetina culture, its chronological parallelization to early EH

III, proposed parallels in material culture between the west Balkans and the EH II/III Peloponnese (in terms of ceram-ics, fi gurines, graves, and grave fi nds), and the geographic position of the west Balkans and the potential engagement of the west Balkan people in the trading network of the Adri-atic and Ionian Seas. This network was one of three major regional trading networks (Interaktionsrume) envisioned by Maran (1998, 2:437, pl. 71A) to have operated between the west coast of Asia Minor and the east coast of Spain during the Early Bronze Age.

107 Maran 1998, 2:45355.108 Whitelaw 2000; Tainter 2006, 2008.109 Yoffee 2010, 189.


transition itself but the increased socioeconomic centralizationand probably a gradual convergence of populationthat occurred during some hundred years before it. This was when the patterns of dispersed habitation that had been developing since the Final Neolithic period were disrupted. The disruption re-sulted in changes not only in how and where people lived but also to some degree in how they made their living, as well as in the framework of values making up the basis for that life. The process leading to these changes in settlement habits probably started with an initial expansion into the landscape before 3000 B.C.E. It was, however, clearly not a smooth transition. Multiple turning points along the timeline leading up to and beyond 2200 B.C.E. indicate fundamental life-style changes for the people concerned. They would have had options and probably significant choices to make in relation to those options at various points along the timeline. Some of these turning points can be found in the varying settlement patterns outlined

above. There is thus much to support the argument by Wiencke that development accelerated during the second half of the EH II period.110 An increasingly complex spiral of change is the essence of the explana-tory model presented by Maran, but the roles of the human actors remain obscured.

We suggest that a consideration of regional identi-ties would add to our understanding of the course of events. Here, we define regional identity as a com-mon set of values and ideas in relation to economy, politics, and material culture that is shared to varying degrees by inhabitants of a region. This value base, then, fuels a sense of belonging and affinity. This does not exclude the possibility that there may be paral-lel and even competing identities to which larger or smaller groups of individuals adhere, identities that are defined on other grounds, such as gender, so-cial status, age, ideology, ethnicity, and so on. In the case of regional identities, geographic and historical context is fundamental. From this perspective, it may

110 Wiencke 1989.

Fig. 8. Diagram of Marans (1998) theory, with indications of internal factors (solid borders) and external factors (dotted borders) (drawing by E. Weiberg).


be argued that the dispersal of settlements into new areas during the Final Neolithic or the beginning of the Early Helladic period meant a more intensive and extensive use of the landscape. On a cognitive level, this may have led to more articulated ideas of the ac-tual geographic and topographic limitations within the greater landscape and to a growing receptiveness to distinctions among different regions. It is not un-reasonable to believe that people at this time began to identify with the landscape itself and with the other people who inhabited it, or that this identification helped shaped the notion of a home region. The formation of central settlements and the clustering of habitations are both plausible continuations of this process; both resulted in the regional identity becom-ing concentrated at one or a few specific locales. It is especially striking under these circumstances that many of the locales chosen were topographically dis-tinct and that their respective residential areas were located on or around hillocks or mounds elevated above the valley floors, making them topographic eye-catchers within their local surroundings (fig. 9). As such, they probably functioned as markers of the settlements and markers of a settlement identity that was apparent both to the inhabitants and to any visit-ing outsider.111

As part of the societal delineation, considerable ar-chitectural work was instigated at most local centers. Architecture, secular and ritual, is often seen as both representing and stimulating the definition of identi-ties, as both means and results of that process.112 Other means and results are language, dress, and various items of material culture. In archaeological terms, because of the conditions for preservation, possible identity markers most often boil down to iconographic presentations, weapons, dress items, sculpture, vessels of metal and stone, and pottery, which are suggested to have been varyingly embraced by different individuals and groups of people based on age, status, ethnicity, gender, and the like.113 The Early Bronze Age context is notable for what can be regarded as supraregional sets of indicators, which display many similarities between regions, as well as for more regionally varied features. On the EH II mainland, the former comprise, among other things, corridor houses, fortifications, seals, the ceramic koine, and the social and economic system within which these material objects were both out-comes and tools. Local choices made in relation to the

111 Weiberg 2011b, 456.112 See McEnroe (2010) for a recent evaluation of the role

of architecture in the construction of identities in Minoan

Crete.113 Insoll 2007.

Fig. 9. Modern views of prehistoric locales: top, Zygouries; center, Mastos Hill in the Berbati Valley; bottom, Tsoungiza (E. Weiberg).


stimuli of the changing times provide the distinctive northeastern Peloponnesian ingredient that shaped the definition of this particular region. One argument (albeit ex silentio) is that the mortuary customs com-mon in the Cyclades and the east-central Greek main-land during the transitional Early Bronze (EB) I/II and onward were apparently not adopted by the people of the northeastern Peloponnese. Our knowledge of the mortuary traditions in the Early Bronze Age Corinthia and Argolid is in fact extremely limited. The invisibility of these graves indicates a much differently fashioned view of mortuary deposition and display.114 In iconogra-phy, the few human renderings and the more common animal ones (in contrast to the fashion on the Cycladic Islands)115 suggest less focus on individuality in favor of a more pronounced significance of traditional and (it is likely) community-based ideals.116

In addition, we may also list practices that seem to illustrate a relationship with the past on a local level. For the EH II Argolid, architectural planning marks connections between settlement layers, which suggest a largely benevolent attitude toward the past as well as a desire to use the past to make statements in the pres-ent.117 Similarly, the prominence of sauceboats among the pottery shapes of the northeastern Peloponnese during EH II may be seen as signifying two things: (1) people in this region participated in an international sphere of drinking rituals,118 and (2) traditionalism in the society of the EH II Argolid led to the rejection of new kinds of drinking sets, such as the Lefkandi I complex of pottery shapes introduced in the Aegean in late EB II.119 As outlined by Maran, there seems to have been a cultural code for the use of different pottery shapes that directed welche Gefformen in welchem Kontext und auf welche Weise zu verwenden waren and thereto eine unterschiedliche Akzeptanz fr Innovationen im Keramikrepertoire.120 This vary-ing acceptance of innovations (not only in ceramics) may have been inscribed in the cultural code and thus defined by a regional identity.

Other contemporaneous stimulimany of the same Anatolian and/or Near Eastern derivation as the

Lefkandi I drinking shapeswere fully accepted and also further developed by the people of the northeast-ern Peloponnese.121 Sealing practices represent one idea that was set to full use in late EH II.122 The forti-fications and fortified buildings in the region, such as the Rundbau at Tiryns, may also have been built at that time.123 A fortification and corridor house will often appear together as a unit (and were likely ideologically related), an arrangement that does have contempora-neous parallels beyond the Aegean.124 Thus, although the corridor-house form appears to have been devel-oped primarily from local and smaller-scale anteced-ents,125 the full realization of the building complexes, perhaps in relation to size and function, may also have been inspired by external connections. This shows that the communities of the Argolid and Corinthia were indeed at the forefront of EB II development and that they embraced external stimuli and their locally colored adaptations. In combination with enhanced activities at Lerna and Tiryns, it may also signify an in-crease in cultural values bound up with long-distance travel and its products, an ideational framework that may have favored coastal communities. Considering the increasing supraregional correspondences in late EH II and the visibility of new features in the material cultural repertoire that suggest widely varying influ-ences, this process must have started during earlier parts of the Early Helladic period.

An increasing number of studies of communal feasting in Early Helladic contexts, primarily those related to corridor houses and mortuary scenes, give indications of how social identities were upheld.126 The formation of central settlements and processes of nucleation may be two further signs of the forma-tion and upkeep of identities based on a common set of ideas and a willingness of people to live closer to-gether. Individual settlements would, over time and as a result of active architectural measures, become fixed points for communal and individual histories, which in turn would enforce the willingness to stay.127 The natural compartmentalization of the Greek main-land may have contributed to the creation of these

114 Weiberg 2011a.115 Broodbank (2000, esp. 24749) discusses notions of in-

dividuality and social power in the Early Bronze Age Cyclades.116 Weiberg 2010.117 Weiberg 2007, 11351.118 Broodbank 2000, 279.119 Rutter 1979, 1995.120 Maran 1998, 1:27374. See also Pullen (1995, 402) for

variations in the ceramic repertoire during the Final Neolith-ic and Early Helladic in the southern Argolid.

121 Cf. Broodbank 2000, 28387; Rahmstorf 2006.122 Aruz 2008; Weiberg 2010. See Pullen (2011b, table 2.1)

for a survey of sites with seals, sealings, and seal-impressed objects.

123 Maran 1998, 1:19799.124 Maran 1998, 1:195 (with references).125 Shaw 1987. See also the recent discussion by Pullen

(2011a, esp. 28997) of House A at Tsoungiza, the beginning of monumental building in the Early Bronze Age Aegean, and the development of corridor houses.

126 Peperaki 2004; Weiberg 2007, 35069; ONeill 2008; Pul-len 2011c.

127 Weiberg 2011b, 578.


regional identities. For example, the nature of the Argive Plain itself, a topographically homogenous area and the only coastal plain of its size in the north-eastern Peloponnese, may have caused it to become the ultimate regional identity marker, a circumstance that, in turn, may have been a major contributing fac-tor in the events of late EH II.

In all, there are many indications that the Argive Plain was the location of exceptional developments in the second half of the EH II period. The centralization of activity in a limited geographic region would also have meant the concentration of the impact of any stressors. There are signs that society in and around the Argive Plain was becoming increasingly complex at that time, and some of the driving factors can surely be found within a problem-solving spiral, as argued generally by Tainter and case-specifically by Maran. Because the Argive regional identity developed in parallel with general socioeconomic trends, it is likely that along with the economic system, the bases for that identity became more and more inflexible and frail. As a result, it may have been impossibleor there may have been a lack of incentiveto recreate societal cohesion if the value bases failed. As far as we can tell today, the people of the Argive Plain and surrounding regions chose not to uphold the then-current level, or type, of complexity after 2200 B.C.E. In view of the contemporaneity of similar events in many parts of the Aegean and beyond, one likely factor at this time was the disruption of traditional trading circuits. The upset of the bases for the acquisition of any coveted trading goodswhether metals, jewelry, textiles, food items, or more transient commodities connected to supraregional drinking customs and in-terpersonal contacts128is likely to have uprooted the grounds for those parts of the society dependent on them. Within coastal settlements and probable trade nodes such as Lerna and Tiryns, in an enhanced trad-ing climate, any disruption may have had far-reaching consequences.

interpreting change

What was the essence of the change during the two centuries or so encompassing the EH IIIII transi-tion? What was given up, what was kept, and how did the change come about? Marked distinctions in the archaeological record suggest that some of the cul-

tural codes had shifted. The construction of corridor houses and the use of fortifications, roof tiles, and seals are relatively sophisticated activities. Practices like these do not just suddenly appear; they must have been adopted intentionally. Likewise, their disappear-ance from the archaeological record must indicate purposeful responses to changes in life circumstances and active choices to discontinue certain practices.

Resilience theory was developed within ecology as a way to understand the interplay between change and stability within complex systems, and it is a conceptual framework that has found increasingly wide uses be-yond ecology.129 Resilience is a measure of the capa-bility within systems to deal with threats to the current level of organization, or of the capacity to be flexible, in the face of a variety of stresses.130 One important function of that flexibility is the capacity for renewal and reorganization.131 A key component of resilience theory is the model of the adaptive cycle (fig. 10, left). Developed by the ecologist C.S. Holling,132 this figure-eight model of cyclical development and change helps illuminate the dynamics and complexities of both ecological and social processes, especially the inter-play between them. An adaptive cycle comprises four major functions, or phases: exploitation, conservation, release, and reorganization.133 These functions work on different temporal and spatial scales. The trajectory from exploitation to conservation represents the major slow sequence of change, including the accumulation of capital and system buildup. During this phase, the connectedness and stability of a system increase. Ac-cording to the model of the adaptive cycle, the options and thereby the positive potential for the future in-crease with the level of accumulated resources. At the same time, however, the continuous increase in con-nectedness leads to the system eventually becoming over-connected and increasingly rigid in its control. It becomes an accident waiting to happen.134 The slow trajectory from exploitation to conservation is there-fore continually intersected by shorter periods of rapid change, through the functions of release and reorga-nization. This back loop of the figure-eight model is unpredictable and uncertain, but it also involves a low level of connectedness, which makes it a window for innovation and creative reformulation leading ultimately to a new front loop of exploitation and conservation. The resilience of the system fluctuates

128 Broodbank (2000, 258, 309 [with further references]) reminds us that knowledge of the world beyond ones own environment may have been just as coveted as the traditional type of traded goods.

129 For the history of resilience theory, see, e.g., Holling 2001; Folke 2006.

130 Redman and Kinzig 2003, under Introduction.131 Folke 2006, 253.132 Holling 2001; Gunderson and Holling 2002.133 Holling 2001, 39496.134 Holling 2001, 394.


within the cycle. Resilience is at its highest in the back loop, when connectedness is low, and it diminishes in the front loop as connectedness extends within an increasingly brittle system.135

According to Holling and others, a socioecologi-cal system comprises a nested set of these adaptive cycles, which function in a hierarchical way on differ-ent levels of time and space to form a panarchy (see fig. 10, right).136 It is generally argued that the slower and larger levels of adaptive cycles set the frameworks within which the faster and smaller ones may function. Each level of adaptive cycles goes through individual processes of accumulation and innovation, which may or may not coincide with those of other levels. There are likely many connections between levels. Two con-nections emphasized by Gunderson and Holling are revolt and remember, which are especially impor-tant in periods of change and thus relevant for the processes of the back loop of a cycle.137 The revolt connection is a largely bottom-up function in which change in lower and faster cycles may trigger change in higher and slower levels. The remember connec-tion is instead a top-down function in which renewal in one cycle may be facilitated by drawing from the

accumulated potential in the buildup phase of a slower and larger cycle.138

Deep-time perspectives are increasingly being used to nuance the contemporary debate on environmen-tal and societal issues.139 Some scholars have argued that resilience theory and the concepts of the adaptive cycle and panarchy may be fruitfully adopted within archaeology and that archaeologists, with their focus on long-term perspectives, in turn should begin to play a more central role in development of resilience theory and the study of contemporary socioenviron-mental problems.140 As emphasized by Redman and Kinzig, resilience theory bridges the gap between the theoretical and the practical,141 which paves a way for better cross-disciplinary communication. Human systems, however, differ from nonhuman ecosystems. Holling lists three specifically human features: fore-sight (or intentionality), communication, and technology.142 Redman and Kinzig emphasize that humans are in the unique position of both living the changes and being able to manipulate them.143 In deal-ing with human systems of the past, we are well advised to acknowledge all these special features of human systems and relate them to our interpretations. This

135 Holling 2001, fi g. 5.136 Holling 2001, 39698, fi gs. 6, 7.137 Holling 2001, 39798, fi g. 7.138 Redman and Kinzig (2003, under Characteristic Scales

and Cross-Scale Interactions) emphasize that in human systems, the direction of these connections may very well be reversed.

139 E.g., Crumley 1994; McIntosh et al. 2000; Tainter 2006;

Costanza et al. 2007; Sinclair et al. 2010.140 Van der Leeuw and Redman 2002; Redman and Kinzig

2003; Redman 2005.141 Redman and Kinzig 2003, under Contributions of Re-

silience Theory to Archaeology. 142 Holling 2001, 4012.143 Redman and Kinzig 2003, under Elaborating the Phas-

es of the Adaptive Cycle.

Fig. 10. Hollings model of the adaptive cycle: left, stylized adaptive cycle and its four functions (drawing by E. Weiberg; modi-fied from Holling 2001, fig. 4); right, stylized panarchy with its possible extensions in time and space (drawing by E. Weiberg; modified from Holling 2001, fig. 6).


is a challenge in that the level of intentionality, the force of communication, and the results of changes in technology, for example, are never easily deduced.

The perspective of adaptive cycles and the idea of nested cycles, however, bring a theoretical framework to archaeology that has the potential to highlight vari-ability as well as connectedness within and between cycles at different points in time. It follows that, first, a collapse does not mean the end; rather, it represents an alteration. Second, the back loop of release to re-organization, commonly the least-examined sequence in the cycle and thus one that is poorly understood,144 should be given the same (positive) attention as the front loop of societal growth. As it is presented within resilience theory, [i]t is a time of both crisis and op-portunity145 in which frameworks for new cycles are shaped. Third, the idea of nested cycles opens up the possibility that change at one level need not cause change in other levels and that only parts of a society may be subjected to the changes noted.

argive resilience

To relate the history of the northeastern Pelo-ponnese to the model of adaptive cycles, we need to acknowledge the problem of scale. How does one recognize the magnitude of changes recorded in the archaeological material? Should they be defined as the release phase of an adaptive cycle, or are they just minor perturbations along the normal trajectory of, for example, the conservation phase? It is necessary to decide where (i.e., on which level in a society) to posi-tion each adaptive cycle or, say, the largest and slowest cycle of a panarchy. We here follow the argument of Redman and Kinzig that this determination can best be made on a case-by-case basis that takes into account the specifics of the definitions, scales, and objectives of the research.146 In the present case, our aim is a contextualized view of the events ca. 2200 B.C.E., and we will focus on the geographic scale, outlining a sys-tem of interlocked and interdependent adaptive cycles centered on the northeastern Peloponnese.

We mark the formulation process for a regional identity as the largest and slowest working cycle, one that works in parallel with or is manifested in the socio-economic process and that functions on a time scale of several hundred years. In this outline, the time of release and reorganization that sets off this front loop

is seen in the Final Neolithic and earliest Early Bronze Age, a time when people started to explore more ex-tensively the potentials in the regional landscape. The initial delineation of central places and the first signs of nucleation in early EH II, a formative period, may be viewed as belonging to a phase of exploitation. The end of EH II could then represent the final phase of the front loop, a period when steps were taken to con-serve and preserve.

The exploitation phase is a time of growth in which capital is accumulated, increasing the potential and options for the future. These are circumstances that seem to have been in place during the first half of the Early Helladic period, early EH II especially, when the yields from the lands probably increased and the internationalized environment expanded.147 This was a time of exploration and experimentation, when much new knowledge and many new practices were being integrated.148 The potential for individual and communal well-being and social networking would have been high. It is likely that the economic well-being and the potential for some surplus coming from intensified and differentiated economies slowly in-creased over generations as techniques and strategies were refined. An increasingly international climate around the middle of the third millennium offered a milieu in which some of this surplus could be realized. It is also likely that an economic climate more depen-dent on trade developed at the same time, leading to greater socioeconomic complexitywhich was fueled by inequalities in the distribution of status (variably defined) in the communitiesand a growing number of specialists. Enhanced focus on the individual, rather than the group, may also have followed, along with the heightened significance within the community of certain personae and smaller groups of familiesultimately, perhaps, at the expense of traditional community ideals. This may, for example, be indicated in the use of seals, which represent ownership and control, and in the incipient practice of intramural burial, which signals individual rather than communal choices.149 The process toward increased societal com-plexity would have been a continuous one over some centuries, additionally spurred at times by specific events and ambitious individuals. In all, it would have been a dynamic process of social change that initially stimulated the formation of local centers, only to be

144 Holling 2001, 395; Redman and Kinzig 2003, under Elaborating the Phases of the Adaptive Cycle.

145 Holling 2001, 395.146 Redman and Kinzig 2003, under Contributions of Re-

silience Theory to Archaeology.

147 Renfrew 1972; Broodbank 2000.148 Renfrew 1972; Wiencke 1989; Maran 1998; Broodbank

2000; Rahmstorf 2006; Day and Doonan 2007. 149 Weiberg 2010, 2011a.


furthered by their presence and by the achievements of their inhabitants. Urbanization then, if that is how this sequence of events should be characterized, is the result rather than the cause of the noted change. The formation of arguably urban mind-sets was one important key to what would come.150

Societal resilience would have been very high dur-ing the first half of the Early Bronze Age but did likely diminish as socioeconomic complexity escalated and the physical manifestations of society took on firmer and more materialized forms. The communities of the northeastern Peloponnese seem to have been posi-t

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