If you have read my previous post, Tartessos in America, you already know there are many petroglyphs and cultural elements that display uncanny similarities between the Hopi and the Tartessian. The magnitude of their number and quality challenges any attempt to reduce the equivalencies to a mere coincidence. Instead, it transpires an important and prolonged —though forgotten— contact between the two peoples.
Prominent among the findings in the Southwest were the chariots. Here, I will focus on one in particular. Aside from the fact that it is a chariot on a continent that had not seen a horse until the arrival of the Spaniards in the 16th century, of all the commonalities, this chariot stands out as the most sacred to the Hopi. Why? What secret does it hide for it to be worshiped unchanged with such devotion for 3,000 years?
In its strokes we may find the key…
The Hopi Chariot in the Eyes of the Hopi
The Hopi tribe is a sovereign nation located in Arizona, though their ancestors, the Ancient Puebloans, occupied an area that spanned across the Four Corners to include New Mexico, Utah and Colorado. One of their more defining traits is the Hopi’s unwavering commitment to protecting their old customs and values. Convinced they are the guardians of peace as mandated by the Great Spirit, their rituals are performed to preserve the balance of the universe, not only for themselves, but for all of humanity. This mission is so ingrained in their being that their name “Hopi” means precisely that, The Peaceful Ones. This was already apparent to the 16th century Spanish explorer and castaway, Alvar Nuñez Cabeza de Vaca, who was the first European to encounter the Hopi. During his harsh eight-years of captivity and enslavement by a more aggressive tribe, the Spanish explorer exalted the Hopi for their kind and peaceful nature.
The Hopi's embrace of harmony between man, nature and the universe is at the heart of their petroglyph, which is carved on a boulder named “Prophecy Rock”. The elders interpret the composition as follows:
The Hopi Chariot in the Eyes of a Spaniard
I had the opportunity to visit the Hopi Reservation in the summer of 2016 to see Prophecy Rock near Oraibi. Founded in the 10th century, Oraibi is the oldest continuously inhabited settlement in the United States. I was, indeed, recipient of their renowned kindness and hospitality, but was also witness to how protective the Hopi are of their heritage, especially their revered petroglyph. Access to Prophecy Rock is only granted prior request and accompanied by a Hopi guide who belongs specifically to one of the Oraibi clans.
For me, an innate skeptic, the experience was almost spiritual since I had finished the draft of my book and new well what was before my eyes.
I will explain it shortly, but first some historical background to better understand: The chariot as a transport vehicle pulled by load animals appeared around 6,000+ years ago in the Eurasian steppes. More or less at the same time, in Mesopotamia, the horse —a more agile and speedy animal— was domesticated, so it didn’t take long for the chariot to be repurposed for war. Its great advantage on the battlefield had the chariot become symbolic of a victorious and powerful warrior, and as such was depicted in illustrations and reliefs across the Middle East and the Mediterranean carrying divinities, royals and pharaohs alike.
The tombs of the elite adopted the chariot as a prestigious funerary object, so was buried next to its owner alongside an array of military regalia (spears, bows, shields) and a diverse range of status goods (combs, mirrors, lyres). Meanwhile, in more modest graves, the deceased had to make do with a miniature chariot or a stele engraved with the mentioned glorifying artifacts.
Be that as it may, there arises another oddity in Iberia. While no “war” chariot has been uncovered, some princely graves have been found to contain “funerary” chariots. Their symbolism is different in that they are meant to carry the deceased safely to the afterlife rather than to denote status. Additionally, they also differ in that the funerary chariot has a square and heavy box while the war chariot is lighter with a D-shaped carriage. This discrepancy between the grave chariot and the chariot depicted on the stelae is extremely important since it is a local peculiarity that pertains specifically to the Tartessian.
Finally, there is a third type of chariot, the votive one, which I touched upon earlier. As I mentioned, due to their high symbolic value, chariots, already in Sumer, were miniaturized to serve as a votive offering or grave good. As such, it became a support, or stage if you will, for scenes themselves of symbolic content as well. In Tartessos there is an exquisite example made in bronze dated to the 6th century B.C. (see illustration below). I also referred to it in my previous post, so I hope you can now further appreciate its symbolic relevance with regards to its equivalent scene in Utah. Found in Merida, the chariot supports a hunting scene, divine in nature due to the presence of the wild boar. In Monte da Costa Figueira, Portugal, another chariot appeared (also seen below), dated a little later to the 4th century B.C. It was recovered in a bad state, but seems to support a funerary scene involving an animal sacrifice. One can make out a procession of priests, men, women and a flute player together with the animals that will be sacrificed.
If we combine the elements of the Tartessian stelae (the warrior with bow and shield of greater size than the rest standing next to his chariot, and the dancing figures from the Ategua Stele), with the elements of the Tartessian funerary chariots (the square box), and the elements of the Tartessian votive chariots (stage for symbolic scenes), what do we get?
We get the Hopi Chariot as only a Tartessian could have envisioned it 3,000 years ago:
Allow me to ask again: What is so special about this chariot that would have the Hopi Tribe honor it so loyally, with such devotion, for so long?
The answer is found in its strokes, which hide a secret in plain sight; a secret rooted in legend and related to King Solomon himself. But I can’t tell you here. For the secret to reveal itself, you must join two Hopi sisters on a journey of enlightenment (in Mary’s Apostles) as they hunt for the historical clues that piece it together. Only then you'll be able to truly see it. I can, however, advance two jaw-dropping hints: One will be provided in my next post God's Spanish Face, while the other will follow in Solomon’s Table Decoded.