The Inquisition Comes to Mexico
“Nothing is easier than to denounce the evildoer; nothing is more difficult than to understand him.” -Fyodor Dostoyevsky
When Hernán Cortés and his small army arrived in Mesoamerica in 1519, they were horrified by the common practice of human sacrifice. The first town they arrived in still had wet blood on the temple floor. From the fundamentalist Christian perspective, Satan is “the prince of this world”, and thus all non-Christian faiths are on some level a form of Satan worship. The fact that the Aztec religion regularly required cutting out the hearts of people made this fact seem, at least to the conquistadors, rather obvious. Not surprisingly, the Aztec hosts did not much care for Cortés basically implying they were idiots for believing in such deities. “Throughout all time we have worshiped our own gods,” Emperor Moctezuma told Cortés, “and thought they were good, as no doubt yours are, so do not trouble to speak to us any more about them at present.” It has been claimed that part of the reason the Spanish attacked the Aztec capital of Tenochtitlan so savagely, even by the standards of the day, was because of their hatred of human sacrifice.
There is of course a major fly in the ointment of framing the Conquest of Mexico as some sort of holy war against human sacrifice: The Spanish burned men alive, including Aztec warriors who had taken up arms against them. The Aztecs at least believed human sacrifice was required to keep the universe functioning and the world from ending, as ridiculous as this sounds in the age of science. The high and mighty Spanish burned men alive to strike fear into the hearts of their enemies, all while claiming they believed in a god of peace and forgiveness.
I have written a few posts about religion in modern Mexico, how it is in many ways both deeply Christian and at the same time something else entirely. There is no doubt that Catholicism, even in this modern secular age, is still important to many Mexicans. But it was also the tip of the spear for the Spanish conquest and colonization of Mexico, both as a rallying cry for the deeply religious conquistadors and as a way to justify imperialism and “civilizing” the indigenous population. Catholicism both destroyed what came before and brought into being Mexico as we know it today.
But the Spanish Catholics also brought something darker and more sinister to what at the time was called “New Spain”: The Inquisition. There is a museum that seeks to commemorate the horror and suffering brought by the Spanish Inquisition in Mexico City and I visited to learn more.
The exact causes of the Spanish Inquisition are complex. At a time when Martin Luther was preaching in Germany that the Pope was the Antichrist, and Galileo was peering through his telescope and directly challenging church dogma, some historians argue that the leadership of the Catholic Church had become deeply insecure. The Pope claimed to have authority over pretty much every aspect of human life, and having the church's authority seriously challenged made the Inquisition particularly violent and overreaching. Others like Sam Harris argue that the theological roots of the Inquisition had begun in the writings of the Catholic Church’s founding fathers, including that heretics should be tortured (as argued by Saint Augustine) or killed outright (as written by Saint Thomas Aquinas). What initially began as a exercise to enforce religious conformity on Catholics and purify the Iberian Penninsula after generations of Muslim rule, evolved to become a far-reaching organization that tortured, imprisoned and executed Jews, Muslims, Protestants, and women who did not conform to typical social norms. Dominican and Franciscian friars became the judge, jury, and executioner over terrified populations who would denounce their neighbors just to get ahead of being denounced themselves. The forms of torture were excruciating: People had their bodies stretched on the rack, spiked collars placed on their necks, and were burned alive merely for being assumed guilty of thought crimes. How fortunate that Spain brought the Inquisition 5,000 miles from Europe to the heart of Mexico.
The Spanish Inquisition is both fascinating and horrifying to our modern minds. It is obviously a form of collective delusion and hysteria that spiraled out of control, and the idea of a religious institution having such political and judicial power feels foreign to the world as we know it today. The Inquisition occurred at a time in history when many beliefs and concepts we currently hold as sacrosanct just simply did not exist: Human rights, the clear divide between church and state, acceptance of religious diversity, and even the right to a fair and speedy trial. Some languished and died in prison merely for an unsubstantiated accusation. Others were killed quickly before a trial or even a confession (or confessed for a quick death rather than be slowly tortured). The exact number of victims is hard to quantify. Some claim 30,000 to 300,000 perished during the Inquisition in Europe, while others claim the number is much higher.
The Inquisition in New Spain was less severe, in part because Mesoamerica was far from the religious fanaticism raging across Europe and because indigenous people, still seen as “uneducated” in the teachings of the Catholic Church, were largely exempt. Records are far from perfect, but around 50 people were killed during the Inquisition in Mexico, many convicted of heresy for having practiced or continuing to practice Judaism. There were a few cases of people executed for practicing Nahua sorcery. While that is a much lower number compared to the death toll in Europe, these were still people that were killed for merely practicing the religion of their ancestors.
The beauty of ancient churches, the sense of hope and community that comforts many believers, the veneration of the Virgin of Guadalupe: These are the positive benefits of Christianity in Mexico. But the Conquest and the Inquisition form the darker side of Catholicism coming to this corner of the Americas. Mexico has been profoundly shaped by both the good and the bad of the Catholic faith, and must reckon with both.
