Spanish Inquisition in Latin America

Spanish Inquisition in Latin America

Largely, the origins of the Spanish Inquisition can be traced back to the Emperor Constantine of Rome. Christianity, which had within Constantine's lifetime been officially battled by the Roman state, was eventually adopted by the Emperor; most significantly, his embracing of the Christian religion brought it under formal protection and established the first rigorous definition of faith. Constantine called a religious council at Nicaea in 324 a.D. To establish sanctioned doctrines of the Christian church. "From the meetings in the Christian gathering came the Nicene Creed... Among other things, the Creed declared that there were three parts of one God -- the part, called the holy trinity, consisted of God, the father; Jesus Christ, who was the son of God; as well as God, the Holy Spirit." These basic laws of the Church constituted the fist orthodox teachings of Christianity, and made up what became Catholicism.

The general purpose of the Council of Nicaea was to establish the official position concerning specific debates from within the Christian faith. Foremost among these deviations from orthodoxy was Arianism. Arians believed that God and Jesus were definitively distinct -- the council felt otherwise. In an attempt to unify the Church the Arians were declared the first heretics, and their punishment was death. In short, Constantine made the formalization of Christianity possible, and laid the foundations for authorized investigations into matters of the Church.

The early Roman approach to heresy was somewhat more severe than the practices that were adopted by the first few centuries of Catholicism:

The New Testament certainly contains no basis for a theory of persecution, but after the conversion of Constantine, the Roman Emperors began using the policy of force against heretics -- sometimes even the death penalty. This tactic met with little opposition from the fathers of the Church.... But from the middle of the twelfth century we see legal thought, both secular and ecclesiastical going beyond this -- even to sanctioning death as a possible punishment to obstinate heretics." It took the instillation of the Inquisition to legitimate a practice of religious persecution. "Beginning in 1231, special Inquisitors began to preside at trials involving alleged heretics." In part, this was done to mitigate the mob trials and executions that had permeated Europe for centuries. In subsequent years the Inquisition grew in power and culminated in the appointment of Thomas de Torquemada as Inquisitor General in Spain. Torquemada installed much of the bureaucratic mechanisms of the Spanish Inquisition.

By 1521, when Hernan Cortes conquered the Aztec Empire, the Inquisition was already well established in Spain. It was transferred to the newly colonized land as an as hoc institution under the guidance of missionary friars and, later, Mexico's archbishop. This rather informal relationship was replaced, in 1571, by an officially constituted Tribunal of the Holy Office of the Inquisition, Based in Mexico City and with ostensible authority over the whole of New Spain."

By this time, the Spanish Inquisition had evolved into a structure strongly resembling a police force, but still steeped in the traditions of superstition and lacking in any recognizable form of due process. An individual could be arrested and held indefinitely without being informed of their accused crime, and possessing little hope of escape unless they confessed their sins. However, in Latin America trials investigating crimes of high heresy were quite rare. "The Mexican tribunal spent much more time enforcing socioreligious norms than attacking heresy and crypto-Judaism." Essentially, the Spanish Inquisition had become such a strong facet of Spanish and Latin culture, that by the late sixteenth century it served to enforce social norms as well as religious orthodoxy. Overall, this is the aspect of the inquisition that becomes most apparent through investigation of documents from the colonial period. The Spanish Inquisition was charged with the task of maintaining the social order; this included reinforcing the political, economic, and ecclesiastical hierarchies.

Nevertheless, the fundamental nature of the Inquisition remained unchanged from its Spanish origins: "According to the instructions, after the Inquisitors arrived in a community, they were expected to give everyone guilty of heresy a period of grace lasting thirty to forty days in which to come forward and confess their sins. These sinners would be given a minimal penance, such as a fine, and permitted to resume their lives." Yet if this grave period was violated, the individuals charged would be faced with far more severe penalties. In many ways, this allowed the Church to collect substantial amounts of capital in the name of the Inquisition and stamping out heresy. It was a way of both asserting the power of the Catholic Church and assuring its sustention into the future.

As with its European counterpart, the Spanish Inquisition in Latin America extended very few rights to those accused -- particularly, those accused of heresy. "People accused of heresy were tried in a chamber of the Holy House, or Holy Office, of the Inquisition. They would be brought before a long table at one end of a dark room, lit only by a few candles." This person was not allowed to know the identity of the individual who made accusations against them, and in many cases, was not allowed to know the nature of their accused crimes. "Individuals who have been reported might not even be aware of it until a knock came at their door, usually in the middle of the night. Then they would be confronted by the soldiers employed by the Inquisition." In many instances, obviously, the charges may be fabricated by a hated rival wishing to eliminate competition. In other cases, it was out of legitimate concern for another's immortal soul. But regardless of the reasoning behind the accusations, once apprehended, the accused could be subject to indefinite incarceration, lengthy inquiries, and even torture -- all in the name of God and upholding His teachings.

As evidenced by the story of Marina de San Miguel, the Spanish Inquisition in Latin America could squeeze any number of confessions out of an individual through substantial confinement and mental manipulation. Doubtlessly, none of the "crimes Marina eventually confessed to would be matters of any legal concern today, but chastity, monogamy, and true faith in God were seen as necessary avenues to the proper functioning of society. Of course, the mere act of accusing Marina of heresy predetermined the outcome of the Inquisition. An accusation that appeared legitimate offered only one escape for the accused: confession. However, since the nature of her crimes was never disclosed to Marina, she ends up confessing to numerous crimes against the Church over the period of several months.

Marina's trial was a bit of an exceptional one, in the fact that she was charged with heresy and eventually admitted to this high crime. The typical approach of the Inquisitors in such matters was to begin the questioning as broadly as possible and see if the individual would implicate themselves:

She was asked whether she is a Christian, baptized and confirmed, and if she hears mass, confesses, and receives communion at the times ordered by the Holy Mother Church.... She was asked whether she knows how to read and write and whether she has studied any subjects.... She was asked for the story of her life.... She was asked whether she knows, presumes, or suspects the cause for her arrest and imprisonment in the prisons of this Holy Office."

This line of questioning is extremely vague in its approach, and reflects the considerable amount of time, power, and authority the Inquisition had on its side. The high Inquisitor could afford to wait and allow any individual to convey their own sins, under the pressures of imprisonment and pain. There existed no legal recourse for those subject to the Inquisition to escape, no loopholes, and no statutes of limitations. In the interest of keeping Christendom free of heretics and pure in the eyes of God, the governments of medieval and colonial societies generally welcomed the Inquisition and infused it into their methods of rule.

Marina's case is an illustrative one, not only because the nature of her heresy is reasonably rare, but that her initial confessions illustrate what the most prevalent social taboos in Latin American colonial society were. On the day of her sixth confession, Marina admits, "She has been condemned to hell, because for fifteen years she has had a sensual temptation to the flesh, which makes her perform dishonest acts with her own hands on her shameful parts." The use of language in this passage is particularly revealing in that certain portions of the human body are associated with a feeling of shame, and that their temptation, inevitably leads to the devil and eternal damnation. Clearly, this is not a matter that anyone would consider a matter of legal significance today, but it was one of the most common accusations and admissions that the Spanish Inquisition dealt with in Latin America.

Similarly, "In colonial Latin America, sexual relations between men were considered an offense against God and a capital crime." Although a similar situation regarding sexual deviance, sex between males was deemed a far more serious crime than mere masturbation. In fact, many states in the United States still have laws on the books that make sodomy, of any kind, illegal. This demonstrates that the traditions of colonial America and religious beliefs have continued to be passed down to this day, even in fully developed nations. Yet, the case involving Damian de Morales helps to bring to light another aspect of the Spanish Inquisition: it could be employed as a tool to eliminate potential rivals.

In the era following the Council of Trent (1545-63), when instilling sexual discipline became an important part of the Catholic world's response to the threat posed by the Protestant Reformation, the pecado nefando and the other sins of lust took on a particular importance for secular and ecclesiastical authorities. Yet given the gravity of the offense and the nature of the crime, the abominable sin could also be used to serve district, more local and often interpersonal political ends -- a well-placed accusation could defame and adversary and ensnare him in a lengthy and potentially deadly legal process."

This was the functional nature of the Spanish Inquisition: its reliance on hearsay and the brutal sentences it dealt made it a vehicle for slander, pain, and murder. Children were encouraged by the Church to saving their own souls by turning in their parents, relatives, or anyone they suspected of committing grievous sins against God. Still, even if the accusations regarding sexual taboos possessed truth, there was often no physical evidence to substantiate the accuser's claim -- but none was needed.

The allegations against Morales consisted, primarily, of a slave man claiming that Morales approached him with sexual intentions. The record of the slave's testimony reads,

And Damian de Morales said to him, 'Anton, let's be friends,' and he put his hand through his breeches, pocket, saying, 'You are plump Anton,' and he moved his hand over his buttocks, feeling him, and then moved [his hands] to the front to touch what was his (lo suyo)."

The nature of this crime today might possibly be termed sexual harassment, and the legal foundation for it centers on the notion that these sexual advances were unwanted and threatening. However, the nature of this crime in colonial Latin America had nothing to do with the consent of the individual involved, but rather its position as a sin in the view of the Church. In the end, the Inquisition deemed that Morales should be imprisoned for the perpetration of his sins. Of course, the entire case relied upon the testimony of those who may have had ample cause to tarnish his name, and once again, no physical evidence linked Morales to any supposed crime.

Another common offense routinely investigated by the Spanish Inquisition was charges of witchcraft. "Commissioners of the Guatemalan Inquisition head complaints of religious deviance, including witchcraft and sorcery, pacts with the devil, blasphemy, concubinage, solicitations in the confessional, and possession of prohibited books." In the case of Michaela de Molina, she is accused of being the source of the ailments experienced by her "enemy." From the Inquisitor's perspective, the existence of Candelaria's illness and the knowledge that she has no other known enemies is sufficient evidence to suggest that Molina is the guilty party. Doubtlessly, this form of faulty reasoning dominated the courts of the Spanish Inquisition. Common local beliefs in magic and curses resulted in formal retribution from the state and from the state's arm -- the Inquisition. The record of the Investigation reads:

Dona Rafaela] said she did not know nor had she heard it said that Maria de la Condelaria was enemies with another person other that the mulata Michaela de Molina [nor] if she uses or knows how to use hechizos."

This fact, in combination with Molina's apology, sufficed as evidence for the act of witchcraft. Overall, the same problems faced the Spanish Inquisition in Latin America as they tried to combat this crime, as was faced by courts in the British colonies: witchcraft and sorcery were, by their nature, crimes that produced no physical evidence and could only be backed by individual testimony; often this testimony consisted of events or experiences that no one else could see or feel. Nevertheless, the firm believe in their existence, coupled with their apparent threat to Christianity demanded that they be prosecuted and cleansed from society. The most glaring American analogy between this aspect of the Inquisition and their Protestant counterparts is evidenced by the Salem witch trials. Guilt, in both cases, was determined entirely upon speculation and trust in the validity of the charges brought. Unfortunately, inhumane and tortuous deaths often resulted from this deeply flawed understanding of the world.

Contrary to the theme of the Inquisition condemning individuals who would today be considered innocent -- or at least, free of any legal entanglements -- sometimes cases absolved individuals who were guilty of what would presently constitute unforgivable crimes. Gespar de Peralta, for example, was exonerated after admitting to the murder of his own wife for the reason that she was damaging his honor. His defense consisted of his suspicions and eventual confirmation that his wife was committing adultery with another man. "Peralta laid a trap with the help of his trusted slave, pretending to leave town on business but secretly returning after dark. He caught the lovers together, killing his wife's lover in the bedroom, and after chasing his wife into the garden, killing her in the latrine," and this was a convincing defense because, "Indeed, the law allowed a man to kill his wife with impunity when honor was at stake, in particular, when cuckolding parties were caught'in flagrate delicto.'"

Unquestionably, the condemnation of murder from a Christian perspective is explicit; after all, it is one of the Ten Commandments. Although it could be argued that the situation in which Peralta found himself constituted a loophole, in that two of the commandments apparently came into conflict, this is a weak argument. A more convincing explanation of why the Spanish Inquisition in Latin America would condone murder in specific situations is that it upheld the existing social order. Explicitly, killing one's wife served the purpose of maintaining an individual's honor, and honor was the means by which members of colonial society obtained and held positions of power. Therefore, Peralta was dismissed by the Inquisition because he acted in accordance with the very social norms that they were working to uphold.