Post by evm111 on Sept 17, 2006 16:38:29 GMT -5
Hi Group!
This is a listing I added to my site not too long ago, but I neglected to add it here. Like most of you, I'd known about the San Blas tokens for several years. But I really wasn't interested in them until recently, after I started reading up on the Kuna (and the successful Revolution they waged, which I never knew about). And when I found out about the Numismatist article, I finally decided to tackle this write-up:
SAN BLAS ISLANDS: In the Caribbean Sea, just a few miles off the eastern half of Panama’s northern shores, lays the pristine San Blas Archipelago, which encompasses more than 360 exquisite offshore atolls protected by a large barrier reef. This series of small, low-lying tropical islands includes about 36 that are inhabited/owned by Panama’s most widely known indigenous group, the Kuna (also spelled Cuna). These tranquil tropical islands are part of an autonomous territorial reserve known since 1998 as the Comarca Kuna Yala (Kuna Land, Kuna Mountain), where an additional 13 Kuna communities are located in a swathe of lush rainforest along the coast. This relatively narrow mainland portion of the Comarca (an administrative subdivision, but technically not a province) stretches some 375 kilometers in length, bordering Colombia in the east and the Provincia de Colón in the west. Overall, the Kuna Yala bioregion comprises an area of about 3,206 km². Its political capital is the port city of El Porvenir, located on the westernmost island. San Blas, it seems, is also the name which had formerly been imposed upon the Kuna’s entire terrain. Though officially a part of Panama, the Comarca is currently administered as a “country within a country”, and the full expanse is under the absolute rule of the Kuna people, who gained sole control of it after the chain of events pertaining to the 1925 Kuna Revolution — a revolt against the assimilationist policies being implemented by the Panamanian government at the time that included the introduction of a Panamanian police force, mandatory schooling and dress codes. The causes of this important incident can be traced to the beginning of the 20th century, after the United States had backed Panama's secession from Colombia. The Kuna were unwilling to accept the supremacy of their new overlords, just as they had been unwilling to accept the authority of Colombia or Spain. Plus, Panama had chosen not to exercise administrative control over the islands until 1915, when a departmental government was established in San Blas. At that time, the forces of this colonial police were stationed on several islands. Their presence, along with a number of other circumstances, led to the revolt. The construction of the Panama Canal was also a contributing factor. Outside activity suddenly skyrocketed, and many Kuna men, now working in enterprises outside of traditional village life were heavily influenced by outside values. Diverse social tensions were caused by this shift, and the unique indigenous customs of the Kuna were further endangered by the unemployed workers who returned to San Blas after the canal had been formally inaugurated. In the 1930s, Kuna laborers found jobs in the American Canal Zone (which was turned over to Panamanian rule in 1999) for short periods of time, usually a year or less, before returning to Kuna Yala. By the 1970s, an increasing number of Kunas began permanently living in or around Panama City, and as the amount of people migrating to the capital increased, urban Kuna barrios were formed in some areas.
The situation in San Blas was further complicated by the factionalism that cropped up shortly after Panama gained its freedom from Colombia. In spite of this overwhelming discontent among the Kuna, one positive and far-reaching development took place circa 1872: in Yandup (the region’s cultural, commercial, and political center), an absogued/absoguedi (shaman) named Inakailibaler (also known as Saila Abisua) convened a great Onmaked (Congress) of all the Kuna communities. Thus, the exalted sage/spiritual guide initiated the formation of an administrative and political institution known as the “Kuna General Congress” (CGK). He furthermore helped to create the office of the Sailagan Dummagan (General Caciques). He was followed by another Kuna leader, Inanakinya, who also channeled his efforts towards strengthening and consolidating this nascent Kuna Confederacy, as it were. The CGK, by 1882, had succeeded in uniting most of the Kuna villages. This body, which consists of representatives from all of the communities in Kuna Yala, remains until today the highest decision-making authority of the Kuna people. Unfortunately, after the death of Inanakinya, the General Congress split into 2 separate camps because of internal divisions. One of them was headed by Inapakinya (nephew of the late Inanakiña), the other was commanded by Simral Colman (more about him later). This tug-of-war would last various decades.
During Panama’s problematical post-independence period, the first Christian missionaries began arriving in San Blas, with the specific purpose of pacifying and acculturating the Kuna. Due to influences from the United States, the Catholic presence was immediately followed by a series of Baptist, evangelical, and Mormon churches. This double-edged process opened doors for a whole new generation of restless and intelligent young Kunas, allowing them the opportunity to get an inside glimpse of how colonialism really functioned. It also awakened them to the subtle mechanisms that were threatening to irreversibly change them as individuals, and slowly turning them against their own culture. To the outsiders, the denizens of San Blas were brute Indians and backward savages. Once the Kuna began to realize that each one of them was instrumental in this cruel transformation, the airs of insurrection began to circulate. They swept through the islands, largely due to the efforts of a slew of legendary leaders who soon began to emerge. These include Nele Kantule (Iguaibiliginia, Iguaibilikinya, or Iguibilikinya, depending on the source) of Ustupu, Simral Colman (Ologindibipilele, Ologindibipelele, Olokindibipilele, or Olokintipipilele, depending on the source; there are even variations with one additional/fewer syllable, such as Olokindibilipilele and Olokindipilele) of Aligandi, and Olonibiginya of Cartí. In 1908/09, Colman had been elected as the first Saila Dummat, or General Cacique, of the whole Kuna territory.
Meanwhile, one of the archipelago’s islands, Narganá, had elected Carlos Inaediginya Robinson (also known as Charles, Charlie, Charly) as its chief in 1903. He had recently returned from many years on a West Indian ship, and began a “civilizing” program; he would later be credited as “the father” of the campaign to educate Kuna children (by 1915, the Kuna were forced to adopt the institutional occidental educational system). His cause was taken up in subsequent years by a number of youths who had been schooled in the cities on the mainland and who gained active support from the police. These “Young Turks” sought to alter the appearance of Kuna women, who were accustomed to wearing intricately colorful “mola” blouses as part of their customary attire. Apart from imposing the substitution of molas for dresses, the oppressors also advocated the forcible removal of golden nose rings (asuolos) and elaborate earrings, forearm/ankle bracelets and beaded bands, headscarves, and the establishment of dance halls like those in the cities. The authorities, in an attempt to eliminate the language and religious rituals (puberty rites, healing ceremonies, etc…) of the Kuna, became complicit in the violent suppression of native cultural practices and began abusing the populations of several villages. Circa 1920, as colonial pressure tightened, Simral Colman was held prisoner and persecuted on various occasions. As an act of retaliation, three islands — Urgandi, Monrmankedyb and Guebdi — took up arms, resulting in several dead and wounded on both sides. The first winds of independence continued to blow all along Kuna Yala.
In 1924, a sympathetic U.S. citizen named Richard O. Marsh (the son of an Illinois congressman who went to Panama to explore sites for rubber plantations) had arrived on the islands, offering not only support to the Kuna resistance movement, but military aid from the American government. Though his reasons are uncertain, his assistance strengthens the Kuna activists and gives them the power to adopt more radical measures against their enemies. That same year, a momentous General Congress of the Kuna took place in Ailigandi Island, where Nele Kantule, Simral Colman, and Olonibiginya presented their people with a new national flag (based on a “Kaa Nugurya”/swastika design, an ancient Kuna cosmological symbol) to symbolize the identity of the Kuna Yala. It was adopted the following year.
By February of 1925, renewed aggressions from the colonial government drove the Kuna — victims of mistreatment, arbitrary punishments and torture by the waga (non-indigenous) police — to sign their “declaration of independence”, which had been supposedly composed by Simral Colman with the help of Marsh. This decision to secede was followed by the urge to rid their tribal lands of all colonial police forces and foreign overseers. Hatred towards the agents of modernization was intense throughout the area. The situation culminated on the night of the 22nd (some sources say it was the 25th), when a revolutionary army of young warriors called the “Urrigan”, purified by the healing prayers and power plants from Napguana (Mother Earth) and guided by some of their most recognized Neles (shamans), simultaneously attacked the officers stationed on the colonial bases of Ukupseni and Dupbir islands (some sources say it was Tupile). The organized rebellion, which allegedly took place after numerous meetings with the Panamanian government and even a delegation from the United States (the meddlesome Marsh?), was led by two previously mentioned, highly respected caciques: Nele Kantule and Simral Colman. In the words of Nele Kantule, “Bab Dummad” — the Great Father — “gave us culture. So that my culture is not lost and so that we recognize ourselves as the Olodulegan,” — men of gold — “our sisters must continue to wear their molas, their gold nose rings, their earrings and gold breastplates…If we start to lose our culture, we will be going down another road, right away things won't be as they were, and everyone will think in terms of money.” Three days of fierce and bloody fighting ended in the deaths of more than 20 policemen. The Kuna even garnered maritime support from the timely appearance of a United States cruiser. In the ensuing months, the struggle continued, albeit in a more veiled form. All of the mestizos are either killed or expelled from the Kuna islands. On March 5th, with American diplomatic and naval officials serving as intermediaries in negotiations with the Panamanian state, the armed conflict concludes with a peace treaty; but in the war’s aftermath, a protracted economic and political quarantine begins.
In 1930, the self-governing and semi-autonomous status of the Kuna was officially recognized by the national government in response to political pressure by its principal chieftains and perhaps by some additional intervention by the United States. In 1938, the Autonomous Territory of Kuna Yala was officially established, under the name of Comarca de San Blas. In 1945, on the island of Tubuala, the Kuna General Congress, which had divided into 2 different groups more than a generation before, was once again unified into one single entity under the guidance of three charismatic leaders: Yabilikinya, Ololebilikinya and Iguawidul Estanislao López. They achieve the unification of all Kuna islands by drafting a document called the Carta Orgánica (the Kuna Constitution). One source states that it was signed on Tuberala island. In 1953, the Kuna’s Congressional Charter is legislated by the Panamanian government; it delineates the internal governing principles and administrative structure of Kuna Yala. In 1957, the Comarca was designated an Indigenous Reserve, known today as Kuna Yala. From that moment on, the Kuna bioregion is democratically governed by three Sailagan Dummagan, elected directly by the Kuna people from among the Sailagan of the 49 communities. In 1972, the “General Congress of the Kuna Culture” (CGCK) was convened, thanks to the initiative of a group of radical students from the “Kuna Youth Movement” (MJK). Their first meeting took place on the island of Gardi Sugdup. Their main mission was: to develop and strengthen the Kuna religion; to rescue, defend and develop the cultural Kuna patrimonies and resources, and to investigate and increase the cultural, political, economical and spiritual values of the Kuna Nation. The General Congress of the Kuna Culture differs markedly from the Kuna General Congress. The CGK, by crafting the legislation that will insure Kuna autonomy, has the responsibility of representing the Kuna peoples in the context of nation-state politics. It also administers a host of social, educational and environmental projects. They meet twice yearly. The CGCK, on the other hand, is charged with safeguarding the traditional and spiritual life of the Kuna. They meet three times yearly. Both of these authorities aim at working side by side for the collective wellbeing of their communities. Under the Panamanian constitution of 1972, new political boundaries were established in Kuna Yala, and the Comarca was divided into four corregimientos (districts): Narganá, Ailigandí, Tubualá y Puerto Obaldía. By the late 1970s, the Kuna had firmly established their reputation as an organized political entity dedicated to preserving a conventional way of life and to accepting outside influences only on their own terms. Today, the Kuna have 2 representatives in the Panamanian legislature (Asamblea Nacional) and can also vote in general elections.
It should be noted that the Kuna also refer to themselves as Dule (also spelled Tule), meaning “The People”, and it is primarily because they speak a dialect called Kuna that they are commonly referred to as Kuna by outsiders. The Dule Nation is also known as the Dulenega (Homeland of the Dule) region. The autonomous territory of Tule Nega actually dates back to 1870/71, when the colony of Nueva Granada (now Colombia) ceded it via decree to the Kuna, who had been long-time residents of the Darién Jungle (where they’d faced various indigenous groups and invaders such as the English, the Scottish, the French, and pirates; they fought with some of them and allied themselves with others against the Spanish).
The aforementioned mola blouse, which seemingly defines the political sovereignty of the Kuna and their valiant resistance to Westernization, has come to symbolize their ethnic pride and their refusal to alter their time-honored way of life. Since the revolt, in which the majority of Kuna women confronted the colonial police by defiantly displaying their full costume, wearing molas has been seen as an important symbol of the Kuna people's inalienable right to self-determination. Furthermore, it is the contention of some scholars that the indigenous insurgency which spearheaded the proclamation of the Kuna’s ancestral fatherland was the first (and only?) successful native uprising to have taken place anywhere in Abya Yala (“Continent of Life” or “land in its full maturity” — the original name used by the Kuna to refer to the Americas). The Comarca has served as a model for other autochthonous territories in Panama and elsewhere. The Kuna Revolution is not just an important historical occurrence; it carries great social and cultural significance and has become a day of remembrance and celebration for Kunas living in both Kuna Yala and urban barrios. Every February, the Kuna celebrate the winning of their political independence with the local holiday of Mor Ginnid.
It is said that the Kuna of the San Blas bioregion now rank among the wealthiest and best organized indigenous peoples in the western hemisphere. Revenues from the sale of molas, tourism, and savings from migrant Kunas working in the Canal Zone provide the Kuna with steady and sizable sources of income. Every tourist who arrives in San Blas is expected to pay a small visitor's fee, usually around five dollars. It is often reported that the Kuna do not like to be photographed, and they expect to be compensated each time that they allow you to snap a picture. Though fishing is one of the main industries of San Blas, the economy of the Archipiélago is based almost entirely on coconuts. The coconuts of San Blas are said to be the best and biggest of the Caribbean, and the Kuna purportedly harvest about thirty million of them annually, half of which are exported to neighboring Colombia in exchange for clothing, rice, and other necessities. Coconuts are practically interchangeable as currency, and they are still used as a form of currency (medium of exchange) throughout San Blas. In Kuna commerce, each coconut now carries a value of about 10 U.S. cents.
Many years ago, coins were struck for this halcyon location. From Mr. David Plowman (whose Web-site is www.coins-of-panama.com/), I received a copy of Coconut Money, an article which originally appeared in the October 1978 issue of The Numismatist. Its author, William P. White, provides a nice account of its very first pieces, which were “used as trade tokens in the Mandingo Bay area of the San Blas Islands, home of the Cuna Indians. Their history is not only interesting, but probably unique in the history of coins, since as a medium of exchange they resulted in almost immediate failure.” First, he supplies the reader with the necessary historical backdrop regarding the archipelago (the islands off the coast of Panama served an important purpose during World War II; they “were used as spotting locations of shipping in defense of the Panama Canal, an early warning system of any attack.”) and the Kuna’s acclaimed coconuts, “which are grown on most of the uninhabited islands, and on the mainland…Different families ‘own’ the coconut crop of various islands and periodically travel to them to harvest the fruit”; the islands off the coast of Panama served an important purpose during World War II; they “were used as spotting locations of shipping in defense of the Panama Canal, an early warning system of any attack.” The author then introduces us to a man named John Mann, who was “the developer of ‘coconut money’”. He “first came to the islands as an artillery observer, and during that period, learned of the Cunas, their culture, their life, and their language.” He returned to the area sometime in the late 1950s, and “worked for the Panama Canal Company until the late 1960’s, when he retired in favor of a more leisurely life, and moved to the San Blas islands”. The impresario then “set up a small tourist business, taking people to the tribal lands where they could see various islands, the people, the huts, the beautiful coral reefs,” and the now famous molas. “Mann found himself trading in coconuts for labor and handiwork, and as time and coconuts accumulated, it became obvious that a ‘pocketful of coconuts’ was altogether impractical, and a warehouse full of them perishable. The obvious answer was some other medium of exchange, and, as with all other practical currencies, something small enough to carry, not quickly perishable, and representing a specific value.” He decided against using Balboas, the Panamanian coinage. For this project, he opted to take his numismatic cue directly from the “Indians’ wealth mentality — the coconut.” In order to better exploit the Kuna mindset (in the most respectful sense of the word), Mann then “enlisted the artistic abilities of Mr. Charles Q. Peters, a long-time resident of the Canal Zone and the Republic of Panama, to design a coin which might be used for trade on the islands. The result was coconut money, and the initials ‘CQP,’ the designer, appear on the coin to the right of the base of the coconut tree.” Approximately 1,000 of these pieces were minted for Mann in the early 1970s by a company in Wendels, Minnesota (thought the article does not say so, it was the medallic firm Wendell-Northwestern, Inc.). “He used them in payment to the Indians for work they had done in support of his tourist business, taking tourists from Port-A-Venier, a tiny island with a landing strip for small planes, to a nearby island where he started the tours. Each coin represented a value of five coconuts, as indicated by the five circles under the coconut tree, or twenty-five cents at the value of five cents per coconut. The meaning of each entry in the design of the coin has significance.” For example, “On the upper-left side of the trunk of the coconut tree is a small ‘V-shaped’ design, indicating an air-orchid” whose name in the Kuna language means “patience” (a tranquilizing tea, which bestows “patience” to the women who drink it, is made from its leaves and petals). Plus, “To the left of the tree is a sea bird the Cuna call ‘ane,’ which means ‘tomorrow.’” The combined symbolism of these motifs conveys the message: “Have patience, you will be paid tomorrow and will receive your five coconuts.” As for the word “SIABIBI”, it “means ‘little cousin’ in the Cuna language — a term of affection, and is also the name of Mann’s tourist boat.” The coin’s lack of success “was inherent in its use. In the beginning, Mann offered to pay wages for work to the Indians with his five-coconut coin as a means for providing the Indians with a practical means of exchange, and of course, he would ‘own’ its distribution. The Indians accepted the new coin with some hesitation and in a couple of days would test the coin by cashing it in for the five coconuts from Mann’s warehouse. Mann ‘made the coins good,’ but when the Indians realized that their wealth was assured and they were not as perishable as coconuts, immediately hoarded them. They also soon discovered that tourists were willing to pay more than the twenty-five cents for them, and circulation ended. What’s left of the ‘coconut money’ remains in the hands of a few Indians, and unknown tourists from all over the world, who have them as ‘mementos’ of their trip to the San Blas Islands!”
According to Mr. Plowman, “I do not think the so-called San Blas tokens were ever really used as currency. I have heard anecdotal stories about their use as evidence of payment down in the islands.” They were sold in Panama for a number of years by coin-dealers such as Dan Sander (of Numismatica Ltda.). But even though the coins did not seem to meet Mann’s initial expectations, as the article clearly indicates, they must have proved popular with collectors and travelers because many more pieces were minted after the article was published. These newer tokens, dating from 1978, 1979, 1980, and 1986 feature a different design on the obverse (the image of “a sailing cayuco (ulu in Cuna)” was replaced with that of a local woman’s face). From Mr. Oded Paz, I purchased the 1971 (actually undated) and 1978 versions of the 5 coconut/25¢ tokens.
This is a listing I added to my site not too long ago, but I neglected to add it here. Like most of you, I'd known about the San Blas tokens for several years. But I really wasn't interested in them until recently, after I started reading up on the Kuna (and the successful Revolution they waged, which I never knew about). And when I found out about the Numismatist article, I finally decided to tackle this write-up:
SAN BLAS ISLANDS: In the Caribbean Sea, just a few miles off the eastern half of Panama’s northern shores, lays the pristine San Blas Archipelago, which encompasses more than 360 exquisite offshore atolls protected by a large barrier reef. This series of small, low-lying tropical islands includes about 36 that are inhabited/owned by Panama’s most widely known indigenous group, the Kuna (also spelled Cuna). These tranquil tropical islands are part of an autonomous territorial reserve known since 1998 as the Comarca Kuna Yala (Kuna Land, Kuna Mountain), where an additional 13 Kuna communities are located in a swathe of lush rainforest along the coast. This relatively narrow mainland portion of the Comarca (an administrative subdivision, but technically not a province) stretches some 375 kilometers in length, bordering Colombia in the east and the Provincia de Colón in the west. Overall, the Kuna Yala bioregion comprises an area of about 3,206 km². Its political capital is the port city of El Porvenir, located on the westernmost island. San Blas, it seems, is also the name which had formerly been imposed upon the Kuna’s entire terrain. Though officially a part of Panama, the Comarca is currently administered as a “country within a country”, and the full expanse is under the absolute rule of the Kuna people, who gained sole control of it after the chain of events pertaining to the 1925 Kuna Revolution — a revolt against the assimilationist policies being implemented by the Panamanian government at the time that included the introduction of a Panamanian police force, mandatory schooling and dress codes. The causes of this important incident can be traced to the beginning of the 20th century, after the United States had backed Panama's secession from Colombia. The Kuna were unwilling to accept the supremacy of their new overlords, just as they had been unwilling to accept the authority of Colombia or Spain. Plus, Panama had chosen not to exercise administrative control over the islands until 1915, when a departmental government was established in San Blas. At that time, the forces of this colonial police were stationed on several islands. Their presence, along with a number of other circumstances, led to the revolt. The construction of the Panama Canal was also a contributing factor. Outside activity suddenly skyrocketed, and many Kuna men, now working in enterprises outside of traditional village life were heavily influenced by outside values. Diverse social tensions were caused by this shift, and the unique indigenous customs of the Kuna were further endangered by the unemployed workers who returned to San Blas after the canal had been formally inaugurated. In the 1930s, Kuna laborers found jobs in the American Canal Zone (which was turned over to Panamanian rule in 1999) for short periods of time, usually a year or less, before returning to Kuna Yala. By the 1970s, an increasing number of Kunas began permanently living in or around Panama City, and as the amount of people migrating to the capital increased, urban Kuna barrios were formed in some areas.
The situation in San Blas was further complicated by the factionalism that cropped up shortly after Panama gained its freedom from Colombia. In spite of this overwhelming discontent among the Kuna, one positive and far-reaching development took place circa 1872: in Yandup (the region’s cultural, commercial, and political center), an absogued/absoguedi (shaman) named Inakailibaler (also known as Saila Abisua) convened a great Onmaked (Congress) of all the Kuna communities. Thus, the exalted sage/spiritual guide initiated the formation of an administrative and political institution known as the “Kuna General Congress” (CGK). He furthermore helped to create the office of the Sailagan Dummagan (General Caciques). He was followed by another Kuna leader, Inanakinya, who also channeled his efforts towards strengthening and consolidating this nascent Kuna Confederacy, as it were. The CGK, by 1882, had succeeded in uniting most of the Kuna villages. This body, which consists of representatives from all of the communities in Kuna Yala, remains until today the highest decision-making authority of the Kuna people. Unfortunately, after the death of Inanakinya, the General Congress split into 2 separate camps because of internal divisions. One of them was headed by Inapakinya (nephew of the late Inanakiña), the other was commanded by Simral Colman (more about him later). This tug-of-war would last various decades.
During Panama’s problematical post-independence period, the first Christian missionaries began arriving in San Blas, with the specific purpose of pacifying and acculturating the Kuna. Due to influences from the United States, the Catholic presence was immediately followed by a series of Baptist, evangelical, and Mormon churches. This double-edged process opened doors for a whole new generation of restless and intelligent young Kunas, allowing them the opportunity to get an inside glimpse of how colonialism really functioned. It also awakened them to the subtle mechanisms that were threatening to irreversibly change them as individuals, and slowly turning them against their own culture. To the outsiders, the denizens of San Blas were brute Indians and backward savages. Once the Kuna began to realize that each one of them was instrumental in this cruel transformation, the airs of insurrection began to circulate. They swept through the islands, largely due to the efforts of a slew of legendary leaders who soon began to emerge. These include Nele Kantule (Iguaibiliginia, Iguaibilikinya, or Iguibilikinya, depending on the source) of Ustupu, Simral Colman (Ologindibipilele, Ologindibipelele, Olokindibipilele, or Olokintipipilele, depending on the source; there are even variations with one additional/fewer syllable, such as Olokindibilipilele and Olokindipilele) of Aligandi, and Olonibiginya of Cartí. In 1908/09, Colman had been elected as the first Saila Dummat, or General Cacique, of the whole Kuna territory.
Meanwhile, one of the archipelago’s islands, Narganá, had elected Carlos Inaediginya Robinson (also known as Charles, Charlie, Charly) as its chief in 1903. He had recently returned from many years on a West Indian ship, and began a “civilizing” program; he would later be credited as “the father” of the campaign to educate Kuna children (by 1915, the Kuna were forced to adopt the institutional occidental educational system). His cause was taken up in subsequent years by a number of youths who had been schooled in the cities on the mainland and who gained active support from the police. These “Young Turks” sought to alter the appearance of Kuna women, who were accustomed to wearing intricately colorful “mola” blouses as part of their customary attire. Apart from imposing the substitution of molas for dresses, the oppressors also advocated the forcible removal of golden nose rings (asuolos) and elaborate earrings, forearm/ankle bracelets and beaded bands, headscarves, and the establishment of dance halls like those in the cities. The authorities, in an attempt to eliminate the language and religious rituals (puberty rites, healing ceremonies, etc…) of the Kuna, became complicit in the violent suppression of native cultural practices and began abusing the populations of several villages. Circa 1920, as colonial pressure tightened, Simral Colman was held prisoner and persecuted on various occasions. As an act of retaliation, three islands — Urgandi, Monrmankedyb and Guebdi — took up arms, resulting in several dead and wounded on both sides. The first winds of independence continued to blow all along Kuna Yala.
In 1924, a sympathetic U.S. citizen named Richard O. Marsh (the son of an Illinois congressman who went to Panama to explore sites for rubber plantations) had arrived on the islands, offering not only support to the Kuna resistance movement, but military aid from the American government. Though his reasons are uncertain, his assistance strengthens the Kuna activists and gives them the power to adopt more radical measures against their enemies. That same year, a momentous General Congress of the Kuna took place in Ailigandi Island, where Nele Kantule, Simral Colman, and Olonibiginya presented their people with a new national flag (based on a “Kaa Nugurya”/swastika design, an ancient Kuna cosmological symbol) to symbolize the identity of the Kuna Yala. It was adopted the following year.
By February of 1925, renewed aggressions from the colonial government drove the Kuna — victims of mistreatment, arbitrary punishments and torture by the waga (non-indigenous) police — to sign their “declaration of independence”, which had been supposedly composed by Simral Colman with the help of Marsh. This decision to secede was followed by the urge to rid their tribal lands of all colonial police forces and foreign overseers. Hatred towards the agents of modernization was intense throughout the area. The situation culminated on the night of the 22nd (some sources say it was the 25th), when a revolutionary army of young warriors called the “Urrigan”, purified by the healing prayers and power plants from Napguana (Mother Earth) and guided by some of their most recognized Neles (shamans), simultaneously attacked the officers stationed on the colonial bases of Ukupseni and Dupbir islands (some sources say it was Tupile). The organized rebellion, which allegedly took place after numerous meetings with the Panamanian government and even a delegation from the United States (the meddlesome Marsh?), was led by two previously mentioned, highly respected caciques: Nele Kantule and Simral Colman. In the words of Nele Kantule, “Bab Dummad” — the Great Father — “gave us culture. So that my culture is not lost and so that we recognize ourselves as the Olodulegan,” — men of gold — “our sisters must continue to wear their molas, their gold nose rings, their earrings and gold breastplates…If we start to lose our culture, we will be going down another road, right away things won't be as they were, and everyone will think in terms of money.” Three days of fierce and bloody fighting ended in the deaths of more than 20 policemen. The Kuna even garnered maritime support from the timely appearance of a United States cruiser. In the ensuing months, the struggle continued, albeit in a more veiled form. All of the mestizos are either killed or expelled from the Kuna islands. On March 5th, with American diplomatic and naval officials serving as intermediaries in negotiations with the Panamanian state, the armed conflict concludes with a peace treaty; but in the war’s aftermath, a protracted economic and political quarantine begins.
In 1930, the self-governing and semi-autonomous status of the Kuna was officially recognized by the national government in response to political pressure by its principal chieftains and perhaps by some additional intervention by the United States. In 1938, the Autonomous Territory of Kuna Yala was officially established, under the name of Comarca de San Blas. In 1945, on the island of Tubuala, the Kuna General Congress, which had divided into 2 different groups more than a generation before, was once again unified into one single entity under the guidance of three charismatic leaders: Yabilikinya, Ololebilikinya and Iguawidul Estanislao López. They achieve the unification of all Kuna islands by drafting a document called the Carta Orgánica (the Kuna Constitution). One source states that it was signed on Tuberala island. In 1953, the Kuna’s Congressional Charter is legislated by the Panamanian government; it delineates the internal governing principles and administrative structure of Kuna Yala. In 1957, the Comarca was designated an Indigenous Reserve, known today as Kuna Yala. From that moment on, the Kuna bioregion is democratically governed by three Sailagan Dummagan, elected directly by the Kuna people from among the Sailagan of the 49 communities. In 1972, the “General Congress of the Kuna Culture” (CGCK) was convened, thanks to the initiative of a group of radical students from the “Kuna Youth Movement” (MJK). Their first meeting took place on the island of Gardi Sugdup. Their main mission was: to develop and strengthen the Kuna religion; to rescue, defend and develop the cultural Kuna patrimonies and resources, and to investigate and increase the cultural, political, economical and spiritual values of the Kuna Nation. The General Congress of the Kuna Culture differs markedly from the Kuna General Congress. The CGK, by crafting the legislation that will insure Kuna autonomy, has the responsibility of representing the Kuna peoples in the context of nation-state politics. It also administers a host of social, educational and environmental projects. They meet twice yearly. The CGCK, on the other hand, is charged with safeguarding the traditional and spiritual life of the Kuna. They meet three times yearly. Both of these authorities aim at working side by side for the collective wellbeing of their communities. Under the Panamanian constitution of 1972, new political boundaries were established in Kuna Yala, and the Comarca was divided into four corregimientos (districts): Narganá, Ailigandí, Tubualá y Puerto Obaldía. By the late 1970s, the Kuna had firmly established their reputation as an organized political entity dedicated to preserving a conventional way of life and to accepting outside influences only on their own terms. Today, the Kuna have 2 representatives in the Panamanian legislature (Asamblea Nacional) and can also vote in general elections.
It should be noted that the Kuna also refer to themselves as Dule (also spelled Tule), meaning “The People”, and it is primarily because they speak a dialect called Kuna that they are commonly referred to as Kuna by outsiders. The Dule Nation is also known as the Dulenega (Homeland of the Dule) region. The autonomous territory of Tule Nega actually dates back to 1870/71, when the colony of Nueva Granada (now Colombia) ceded it via decree to the Kuna, who had been long-time residents of the Darién Jungle (where they’d faced various indigenous groups and invaders such as the English, the Scottish, the French, and pirates; they fought with some of them and allied themselves with others against the Spanish).
The aforementioned mola blouse, which seemingly defines the political sovereignty of the Kuna and their valiant resistance to Westernization, has come to symbolize their ethnic pride and their refusal to alter their time-honored way of life. Since the revolt, in which the majority of Kuna women confronted the colonial police by defiantly displaying their full costume, wearing molas has been seen as an important symbol of the Kuna people's inalienable right to self-determination. Furthermore, it is the contention of some scholars that the indigenous insurgency which spearheaded the proclamation of the Kuna’s ancestral fatherland was the first (and only?) successful native uprising to have taken place anywhere in Abya Yala (“Continent of Life” or “land in its full maturity” — the original name used by the Kuna to refer to the Americas). The Comarca has served as a model for other autochthonous territories in Panama and elsewhere. The Kuna Revolution is not just an important historical occurrence; it carries great social and cultural significance and has become a day of remembrance and celebration for Kunas living in both Kuna Yala and urban barrios. Every February, the Kuna celebrate the winning of their political independence with the local holiday of Mor Ginnid.
It is said that the Kuna of the San Blas bioregion now rank among the wealthiest and best organized indigenous peoples in the western hemisphere. Revenues from the sale of molas, tourism, and savings from migrant Kunas working in the Canal Zone provide the Kuna with steady and sizable sources of income. Every tourist who arrives in San Blas is expected to pay a small visitor's fee, usually around five dollars. It is often reported that the Kuna do not like to be photographed, and they expect to be compensated each time that they allow you to snap a picture. Though fishing is one of the main industries of San Blas, the economy of the Archipiélago is based almost entirely on coconuts. The coconuts of San Blas are said to be the best and biggest of the Caribbean, and the Kuna purportedly harvest about thirty million of them annually, half of which are exported to neighboring Colombia in exchange for clothing, rice, and other necessities. Coconuts are practically interchangeable as currency, and they are still used as a form of currency (medium of exchange) throughout San Blas. In Kuna commerce, each coconut now carries a value of about 10 U.S. cents.
Many years ago, coins were struck for this halcyon location. From Mr. David Plowman (whose Web-site is www.coins-of-panama.com/), I received a copy of Coconut Money, an article which originally appeared in the October 1978 issue of The Numismatist. Its author, William P. White, provides a nice account of its very first pieces, which were “used as trade tokens in the Mandingo Bay area of the San Blas Islands, home of the Cuna Indians. Their history is not only interesting, but probably unique in the history of coins, since as a medium of exchange they resulted in almost immediate failure.” First, he supplies the reader with the necessary historical backdrop regarding the archipelago (the islands off the coast of Panama served an important purpose during World War II; they “were used as spotting locations of shipping in defense of the Panama Canal, an early warning system of any attack.”) and the Kuna’s acclaimed coconuts, “which are grown on most of the uninhabited islands, and on the mainland…Different families ‘own’ the coconut crop of various islands and periodically travel to them to harvest the fruit”; the islands off the coast of Panama served an important purpose during World War II; they “were used as spotting locations of shipping in defense of the Panama Canal, an early warning system of any attack.” The author then introduces us to a man named John Mann, who was “the developer of ‘coconut money’”. He “first came to the islands as an artillery observer, and during that period, learned of the Cunas, their culture, their life, and their language.” He returned to the area sometime in the late 1950s, and “worked for the Panama Canal Company until the late 1960’s, when he retired in favor of a more leisurely life, and moved to the San Blas islands”. The impresario then “set up a small tourist business, taking people to the tribal lands where they could see various islands, the people, the huts, the beautiful coral reefs,” and the now famous molas. “Mann found himself trading in coconuts for labor and handiwork, and as time and coconuts accumulated, it became obvious that a ‘pocketful of coconuts’ was altogether impractical, and a warehouse full of them perishable. The obvious answer was some other medium of exchange, and, as with all other practical currencies, something small enough to carry, not quickly perishable, and representing a specific value.” He decided against using Balboas, the Panamanian coinage. For this project, he opted to take his numismatic cue directly from the “Indians’ wealth mentality — the coconut.” In order to better exploit the Kuna mindset (in the most respectful sense of the word), Mann then “enlisted the artistic abilities of Mr. Charles Q. Peters, a long-time resident of the Canal Zone and the Republic of Panama, to design a coin which might be used for trade on the islands. The result was coconut money, and the initials ‘CQP,’ the designer, appear on the coin to the right of the base of the coconut tree.” Approximately 1,000 of these pieces were minted for Mann in the early 1970s by a company in Wendels, Minnesota (thought the article does not say so, it was the medallic firm Wendell-Northwestern, Inc.). “He used them in payment to the Indians for work they had done in support of his tourist business, taking tourists from Port-A-Venier, a tiny island with a landing strip for small planes, to a nearby island where he started the tours. Each coin represented a value of five coconuts, as indicated by the five circles under the coconut tree, or twenty-five cents at the value of five cents per coconut. The meaning of each entry in the design of the coin has significance.” For example, “On the upper-left side of the trunk of the coconut tree is a small ‘V-shaped’ design, indicating an air-orchid” whose name in the Kuna language means “patience” (a tranquilizing tea, which bestows “patience” to the women who drink it, is made from its leaves and petals). Plus, “To the left of the tree is a sea bird the Cuna call ‘ane,’ which means ‘tomorrow.’” The combined symbolism of these motifs conveys the message: “Have patience, you will be paid tomorrow and will receive your five coconuts.” As for the word “SIABIBI”, it “means ‘little cousin’ in the Cuna language — a term of affection, and is also the name of Mann’s tourist boat.” The coin’s lack of success “was inherent in its use. In the beginning, Mann offered to pay wages for work to the Indians with his five-coconut coin as a means for providing the Indians with a practical means of exchange, and of course, he would ‘own’ its distribution. The Indians accepted the new coin with some hesitation and in a couple of days would test the coin by cashing it in for the five coconuts from Mann’s warehouse. Mann ‘made the coins good,’ but when the Indians realized that their wealth was assured and they were not as perishable as coconuts, immediately hoarded them. They also soon discovered that tourists were willing to pay more than the twenty-five cents for them, and circulation ended. What’s left of the ‘coconut money’ remains in the hands of a few Indians, and unknown tourists from all over the world, who have them as ‘mementos’ of their trip to the San Blas Islands!”
According to Mr. Plowman, “I do not think the so-called San Blas tokens were ever really used as currency. I have heard anecdotal stories about their use as evidence of payment down in the islands.” They were sold in Panama for a number of years by coin-dealers such as Dan Sander (of Numismatica Ltda.). But even though the coins did not seem to meet Mann’s initial expectations, as the article clearly indicates, they must have proved popular with collectors and travelers because many more pieces were minted after the article was published. These newer tokens, dating from 1978, 1979, 1980, and 1986 feature a different design on the obverse (the image of “a sailing cayuco (ulu in Cuna)” was replaced with that of a local woman’s face). From Mr. Oded Paz, I purchased the 1971 (actually undated) and 1978 versions of the 5 coconut/25¢ tokens.