Christopher L. Bennett

                                                                                                                    Frontiers in World History

 

                                                     INVADERS, ALLIES, GODS:

                                    Indigenous Mexican Views of the Spanish Invaders

 

 

To Hernando Cortés and his conquistadores, the American mainland was a "New World" ripe for discovery and plunder.  But they were actually latecomers in a complex political history.  The ways in which the indigenous populations reacted to the conquistadores were shaped by that history, and by their own experiences, ambitions and cultural norms.

The prevailing story told from the European perspective is that the native peoples saw Cortés and his fellow Europeans as gods -- a response which meshes comfortably with European prejudices.  But the oral histories of the indigenous Nahua, as presented in Miguel Leon-Portilla's The Broken Spears, paint a different picture.  In these tales, the perception of the Spaniards as gods is ascribed almost exclusively to the Aztec king Motecuhzoma II.  The king's scouts describe them simply as "strange people" (p. 17) with unusual appearance and clothing, arriving on seacraft resembling towers or mountains.  But Motecuhzoma, who has been troubled by omens, is paralyzed with fear.  He orders that raiment suitable for the gods be made and delivered to the foreigners, "as if he thought the new arrival was our prince Quetzalcoatl" (p. 22, emphasis added).  The king's envoys greet the Spaniards as gods, but it seems they are simply following their king's orders in this regard.  Another retelling of the event states that the lead emissary "was only performing his duty as a royal envoy" (p. 128).  Indeed, the emissaries seem more afraid of Motecuhzoma than of the Spanish "gods."  When Cortés challenges them to battle to test the mettle of those he intends to conquer, they are mortified at being asked to perform an action outside their royal warrant.  "If we were to do this," they protest, "it might anger Motecuhzoma, and he would surely put us to death" (p. 28).


As the Spaniards march inward, Motecuhzoma's fear is shown as increasing to the point of total paralysis.  "The people were also terrified" (p. 35) of the Spaniards' military might, but instead of rallying them to be strong, Motecuhzoma "was weak and listless and too uncertain to make a decision" (p. 36).  When the Spaniards arrive at Tenochtitlan, he welcomes them and is taken meekly into custody.

Oral sources must be interpreted cautiously, however.  This version of events comes from Nahua tales documented by Spanish settlers a generation or more after the conquest.  In an earlier source compiled in 1528 by anonymous Tlatelolcans, perhaps including witnesses to actual events, there is no mention of Motecuhzoma fearing the Spaniards as gods or meekly surrendering to them.  He is barely mentioned at all, but is portrayed as somewhat more assertive, protesting the Spaniards' slaughter of unarmed revellers during the fiesta of Toxcatl (p. 131).  It is possible that the depiction of Motecuhzoma's cowardice and surrender is an exaggeration or invention of later generations seeking a scapegoat for their defeat.

In any case, different Nahua populations reacted to the Spaniards differently.  The rank and file of Aztecs may not have shared their king's superstitious dread, but they certainly feared the threat this new power posed to them.  Other Nahua cities shared this fear, but dealt with it differently.  The archetypal examples are the people of Tlaxcala.  Upon hearing of the Spaniards' defeat of the formidable Otomi tribe, its leaders are described in the Codex Florentino as saying: "`We should go over to their side....  If not, they will destroy us too" (p. 39).  The Tlaxcalteca become the principal allies of the Spaniards in their campaigns against the Empire, and many other communities join in the same cause.  These peoples even accept baptism into the Catholic faith as a show of allegiance to the Spaniards (as exemplified by the mass baptism of the people of Texcoco in Chapter 7).

The reason for this difference is straightforward.  The Spaniards, with the military advantages of their guns and horses and their avowed hostility toward the local power structure, were a threat to that structure.  As the extant authority, the Aztecs reacted to this with fear.  But the many cities and tribes which suffered from the Aztecs' incessant demands for tribute and human sacrifice saw the dismantling of the power structure as eminently desirable.  Arguably, the Spaniards did not so much conquer the Aztec Empire as empower and assist a revolution against it.


In the first generations following the conquest, these differing perceptions of the Spaniards did not seem to change much.  The tales told by their victims (such as the people of Tlatelolca, the northern half of the Aztec capital) portray them negatively, describing them as "savages" (p. 112) who "hungered like pigs for... gold" (p. 51).  These sources describe the Spaniards' brutality during the conquest in considerable detail.  Yet tales told by descendants of the Spaniards' allies are more flattering to the conquerors.  Diego Munoz Camargo, a half-Tlaxcalan mestizo writing in the sixteenth century, describes Cortés as "an astute leader" (p. 43) and "valiant" (p. 47), and embraces the Christian point of view, portraying the Spaniards as doing God's work and dismissing the beliefs of their enemies as "falsehoods and lies" (p. 45).

However, there is some sign that even their allies' descendants did not see the Spaniards in a rosy light at this time.  Don Feranado de Alva Ixtlilxochitl, a descendant of the Spaniards' Texcoco allies, portrays the Spaniards' behavior at the fall of Tenochtitlan quite negatively.  He says they "committed some of the most brutal acts" in Mexican history, and accuses them of "maltreating the women and children... cruelly" (p. 122).

Once the Spaniards were in place as the new rulers, even their allies began to suffer from their policies.  Several letters survive from the mid-1500's in which Nahua leaders petition the king of Spain for "protection and aid... due to the many wrongs and damages that we receive from the Spaniards" (p. 153).  Though clearly displeased with the authorities who "expel us from our lands and deprive us of our goods, beyond the many other labors and personal tributes that daily are increased for us" (ibid.), they still believe (or hope) that the Spanish monarch will bring them justice.

By the eighteenth century, though, this distinction had been blurred.  A document from this period, used by Aztec descendants to support their territorial rights, says "It is known that the Castilian Cortés... was authorized, there in Castile, to come to distribute our lands" (p. 160), that is, to claim possession and control over other people's territory.  Here the blame is extended all the way back to the crown.


In modern times, the outlook is often more simplified.  Rather than many Nahua city-states at odds with each other, there is a more unified Nahua identity, and a perception that all Nahua face opposition from acquisitive non-Nahua described as "Coyotes:" "Some Coyotes are saying/That we Nahuas will disappear.... The Coyotes rejoice in this" (p. 169).  This is unsurprising, since presumably the European conquerors and their descendants have largely treated the indigenes as a monolithic "Other," helping create this polarized outlook.  Although the identity of the powerful has changed, the struggle of the unempowered continues much as it always has.

 

Bibliography

Leon-Portilla, Miguel, ed.  The Broken Spears: The Aztec Account of the Conquest of Mexico, Expanded and Updated Edition, tr. Lysander Kemp.  Boston: Beacon Press, 1992.

 

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