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Gathering Souls: Jesuit Missions in the Spanish Empire

Published online by Cambridge University Press:  09 August 2023

Alexandre Coello de la Rosa Open the ORCID record for Alexandre Coello de la Rosa [Opens in a new window]
Alexandre Coello de la Rosa*
Affiliation:
Universitat Pompeu Fabra/CSIC—ICREA Academia, Barcelona, Spain
*
E-mail: alex.coello@upf.edu
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Abstract

This article examines two different missionary areas where the Society of Jesus was sent to evangelise the native population: the Andean territories previously under Inca domination and the remote Mariana Islands in the Pacific Rim. The gathering of “other barbarians” living outside “civilised” societies was a tool of early modern colonisers within Europe and beyond. The English did so in sixteenth-century Ireland and the Spanish began reducing the so-called American Indians to new settlements in New Spain and Peru. In this paper, I want to compare the methods used to concentrate the natives of the Viceroyalty of Peru, where the Jesuits actively collaborated, with the borderland mission of the Marianas, where the Jesuits worked as parishioners of a much less sophisticated people: the CHamoru.1 As I will demonstrate, this policy of gathering souls was not an isolated one, but part and parcel of a universalistic principle of spreading God's word that was irremediably embedded in colonial structures of coercion and political control in the Americas and Asia-Pacific.

Keywords

seventeenth-century Mariana IslandsPeruJesuitsmissionsreducciones
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Article
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Itinerario , Volume 47 , Issue 2 , August 2023 , pp. 147 - 165
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This is an Open Access article, distributed under the terms of the Creative Commons Attribution licence (https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/4.0/), which permits unrestricted re-use, distribution, and reproduction in any medium, provided the original work is properly cited.
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Copyright © The Author(s), 2023. Published by Cambridge University Press on behalf of Research Institute for History, Leiden University

Drawing from a world history of Christianity, scholars agree that the missionary action of the Society of Jesus from 1549 to 1767 has to be placed within the context of the early modern Iberian expansion, turning the Jesuits into the first “global religious order.”Footnote 2 Recent scholarship has analysed the Jesuit's missionary efforts as a reaction to the global challenges confronted by Reformist Catholicism.Footnote 3 When Jerome Nadal (1507–80), one of Ignatius Loyola's (1491–1556) closest collaborators, coined the famous phrase, “The world is our home” (totus mundus nostra habitatio fit), he was indeed welcoming the Jesuits as “pioneering globalisers.”Footnote 4 Their “apostolic mobility” is key to understanding the role of the Jesuits’ global mission and the origins of global modernity in Iberian colonial empires from the sixteenth to the eighteenth centuries.Footnote 5 It was part of the “way of proceeding” (modo de proceder) of the founders, including Loyola himself, Francis Xavier (1506–52), and his successors Alessandro Valignano (1539–1606) and Matteo Ricci (1552–1619), to extend the Catholic faith anywhere in the Hispanic and Portuguese world, indeed, “to the ends of the world” (usque ad ultimum terrea) and to convert heathen peoples of East Asia to Catholicism.Footnote 6

The idea of Western colonisation became synonymous with the expansion of what was understood as extending the values of Christian “civilisation.”Footnote 7 Or, in other words, as a way to reaffirm the purity of its own.Footnote 8 In sixteenth-century Ireland, the English Pale, an enclosed or contained area around Dublin, turned into the Tudor borderland. Outside this oasis of English dominion was darkest Ireland, where “barbarous” Gaelic people lived. Significantly enough, being “within the Pale” was to live under the jurisdiction of English law, while being “beyond the Pale,” or “outside the Pale,” meant to live “outside the bounds of civilised behaviour.”Footnote 9

As Richard Kagan noted, the Renaissance idea of a city included two separate but complementary notions: urbs, as built environment, and civitas, as a human and political community.Footnote 10 In the early modern colonisation period, the Spanish word policía derived from the Aristotelian term politeia, which particularly referred to a community whose citizens were organised into a (ordered) civic polity, or res publica. Footnote 11 Following the inherited linkage between civitas and religion, the mendicant orders conveniently grouped the native population into organised towns (pueblos formados) and turned the New Spain into the “New Jerusalem.”Footnote 12 In Michoacán, the parish of San Francisco Acámbaro (1526–32), Santa Fe de la Laguna, located at the banks of Pátzcuaro Lake, together with the first “village-hospital” of the Tarascan capital of Tzintzuntzan (1532), sought to protect the Indians from Spanish greed.Footnote 13 Father Vasco de Quiroga, the future bishop of Michoacán (1537–65), was responsible for such short-lived projects. He was inspired by the critical humanism of Erasmus of Rotterdam (1466–1536) and particularly by Sir Thomas More's Utopia (1516) to concentrate the Indians into towns.Footnote 14 Other similar attempts to organise permanent parishes, or doctrinas, in New Spain were undertaken by the Franciscan missionaries Martín de Valencia (1474–1534), Pedro de Gante (1523–72), and by the first bishop of Mexico, Juan de Zumárraga (1535–36) and the Second Audience in Oaxaca (1537) and Guatemala (Tuzulutlán, 1537; Vera Paz or Tierra de Guerra, 1547–56).

In 1549, the Society of Jesus was sent to Brazil, where it built colleges, residences, and aldeias (villages) for the social discipline of the Tupi population. In the coastal areas of Salvador de Bahia, in northeast Brazil, the Jesuits began developing the aldeamento system, the practice of settling and Christianizing indigenous peoples of diverse origins in supervised villages under the rule of the first Portuguese governor-general, Tomé de Sousa (1549–53).Footnote 15 In Peru the Jesuits helped to build this town-based conception of Christian empire, even though it contradicted in principle the markedly itinerant character—circa misiones—of their order. At the beginning the Jesuits were reluctant to work as parishioners as a way of safeguarding their mobility and financial disinterestedness.Footnote 16 However, this apostolic mobility had to be combined with a new pastoral strategy consisting of gathering the Christian flock everywhere in the Hispanic world in a hierarchical order under a universal monarch (universitas cristiana).Footnote 17

During Claudio Acquaviva (1581–1615)'s long tenure as Superior General, he firmly advocated advancing missionary work in frontier spaces and imposed the learning of indigenous/local languages among all the Jesuits in overseas provinces.Footnote 18 By analysing two different missionary areas, the Andean territories previously under Inca domination and the remote Mariana Islands, this essay aims to demonstrate that the Society of Jesus accommodated to work as parishioners in borderland missions, when necessary, without contradicting the spirit of their constitutions (internal rules). This policy was not an isolated one but part of a universalistic principle of spreading God's word overseas that was irremediably embedded in colonial structures of coercion and political control.Footnote 19

From the Norman Invasion to the Gathering of the “Barbarous” (Catholic) Irish (Twelfth to Sixteenth Centuries)

Any “civilisation,” or polity, cannot think of itself, as Claude Levi-Strauss noted, unless it has others with which it can be compared.Footnote 20 From the ninth to the fifteenth century, the Spanish reconquista focused on Christian supremacy over Muslims and Jews in the Iberian Peninsula. As Kagan pointed out, “the city played a crucial ‘civilising’ role in the struggle by Christian rulers to rid the peninsula of Muslim rule.”Footnote 21 From the very beginning, the town was an institution through which monarchs claimed legitimate possession. In addition, the town was strategically useful for populating, and thus Christianizing, the newly conquered lands.

During the same period the Scots and the Irish were also considered less worthy than, and even inferior to, the English. In 1185, Gerald de Barri, a loquacious Norman official in the service of Henry II (1133–89), better known as Gerald of Wales (Giraldus Cambrensis), wrote a detailed description of Ireland in tune with the interests of his patron in colonising the island. His Topographia Hibernia expressed a certain admiration for the secret marvels of nature while showing his profound contempt for those “barbarous,” “dirty,” and unwelcoming Gaelic Irish people, who plunged shamelessly into vice.Footnote 22

The English justification for the settlement in neighbouring Ireland was based on the argument of the misuse of agricultural land. According to Gerald of Wales, “the wealth of the soil is lost, not through the fault of the soil, but because there are no farmers to cultivate even the best land: ‘the fields demand, but there are no hands.’”Footnote 23 Accordingly, if Irish lands were fertile but nobody had ever cultivated them, such improper behaviour could only come from peoples who were not organised in civil societies, and therefore, they were unable to develop a model of civilisation.Footnote 24 At that time the Normans had begun to establish alliances with local Scottish and Gaelic Irish power-holders in their attempts to impose a pattern of “European” sociability in what were considered the borderlands of civilisation. To validate Norman superiority over Irish “barbarity,” English pope Adrian IV enacted the famous bull Laudabiliter (1155), in which he granted the English King Henry II dominium jurisdictionis, or sovereignty, over Ireland, and urged him to expand the Church's influence and spread the Christian faith among the savage and illiterate peoples of those lands.Footnote 25

This negative categorisation of the Scottish and Gaelic Irish as unworthy and inferior peoples was fully in force during the sixteenth century. In an astonishing passage that reveals such antagonism, English historian W. Camden (1551–1623) referred to “Savage (Henry) a Gentleman which amongst the first English, had planted himselfe in Ulster in Ireland, advised his sonne for to builde a castle for his better defence against the Irish enemy, who valiantly answered: that hee woulde not trust to a castle of stones, but ho his castle of bones.”Footnote 26 Likewise, Edmund Spencer showed the same contempt towards the Irish. For the Elizabethan historian, marriage with an Irish person was considered no less than “the most barbarous and loathly conditions of any people (I thinke) under heavan.”Footnote 27 Not surprisingly, an Englishman bluntly stated that “we have Indians at home: Indians in Cornwall, Indians in Wales, and Indians in Ireland.”Footnote 28

During the reign of Elizabeth I (1558–1603), moderate Protestant Sir Henry Sidney (1529–86), Lord Deputy of Ireland (1565–67), set forth a project to colonise the island that would attract the “barbaric Catholics” to the English “Pale” (An Pháil, in Irish), which had been directly under the control of the English government since the late Middle Ages.Footnote 29 Sir Henry's plan in fact displaced the bellicose Irishmen of a given area, such as Munster, and substituted a population of planters from whom greater loyalty to the English would be expected.Footnote 30 It also included regulations that sought to transform the Irish language, laws, customs, and even social habits, becoming the first step towards the establishment of Elizabethan hegemony over Ireland. Eventually, many among the peripheral “barbarians”—Irish Catholics and Scottish highlanders—were integrated into the “English civilisation” and became valuable “intercultural allies” in the colonisation of Georgia and New Scotland, as Geoffrey Plank pointed out, “in part because of their reputation for primitive violence.”Footnote 31

In any case, English soldiers and governors coincided in seeing the lingering Roman Catholicism as the root cause of the intransigence and “barbarity” of the Gaelic people. Despite Irish traditional obstinacy to remain Catholic, everything seems to indicate that the pattern of Elizabethan “plantation” was not English, but Spanish Catholic. Between 1553 and 1556, Sir Henry Sidney was living in Spain as an emissary of Queen Mary I (1553–58). He could have learned about the Spanish techniques to “reduce” the American Indians during his stay in the Spanish court. In the following years those techniques were applied for this “programmatic governor” to implement the Elizabethan “plantation” in Ireland.Footnote 32 In the Americas, however, the English missionary enterprise did not include the conversion of the Indians as a major priority.Footnote 33 Unlike Spain's missionary project, the English established their settlements in sparsely settled regions in New England, inhabited by small tribal polities, which meant, to borrow Elliot's words, that the process of settlement was to assume different forms in the Iberian American and the Anglo-American worlds.Footnote 34

The Policy of Reducciones in Colonial Peru

The negative evaluation made by the sixteenth-century Spaniards regarding the “barbaric Indians” of the New World could feasibly have a connection with the centenarian representation of the Gaelic population of Ireland as isolated, fierce, and savage. It does not seem, therefore, that the Spanish invented something new, except the method of concentrating Indians in towns—the so-called reducciones—which the English later adapted in the settled area around Dublin called the English area or Pale. From the beginning of the Spanish conquest, the royal authorities responded to the wishes of the papacy by reducing wandering peoples of the Caribbean to a sedentary and therefore “civilised” lifestyle in centralised villages, placing the Roman church as their ideological as well as geographical focus.Footnote 35 Later on they designed well-planned towns, or reducciones, which involved a broad range of attributes of civilised life, such as politeness, cleanliness, and rationality, oriented towards the preservation of the first source of wealth: the Indians themselves.

The term policía assimilated to Augustine and Thomas Aquinas's notions of cities as instruments of evangelisation, and therefore, they contained a crucial religious component.Footnote 36 Thus, the basic pattern of native towns, parishes, or doctrinas de indios was designed by the mendicant orders in the Caribbean and New Spain within the encomienda system. Accordingly, the encomenderos had the right to extract tribute and work from the natives in exchange for evangelisation and protection.Footnote 37 However, the Spaniards’ abuses led some Dominican priests, particularly Bartolomé de Las Casas (1484–1566), to raise their voices to decry the misbehaviours of the encomenderos. As the Indian labour force was running out, the Spanish Crown began questioning the encomienda system.

Philip II's (1556–98) centralising policy put the Indian populations under the control of royal officials, enacting laws to remove these groups from their own remote hamlets and scattered farms among the mountains and concentrate them into new villages and rural pastures. The royal instructions imposed the policy of forced resettlement of large numbers of Indians into new orderly towns. Like the ancient Romans, the Spanish believed that by forcing the natives to live in regular grid-plan towns based on straight streets, square blocks, and a central plaza, they would progressively abandon their backwardness (rusticitas) and embrace (Spanish) “civilisation” (civilitas).Footnote 38 However, the high degree of coercion employed to bring the natives into the Christian fold had irreparable consequences for the native population, including deterritorialisation, because many communities were moved from one ecological zone to another; exploitation, because Indians were mostly used as a cheap labour force, which led to massive migration of local groups as well as the subsequent readjustment of the regional socioeconomic structures to the capitalist logic of profit.Footnote 39

The monarchy pursued a similar policy of native resettlement in the Viceroyalty of Peru where the Roman church enjoyed a total monopoly over religious life. In 1549 Charles V, the Holy Roman emperor (1516–56), issued a royal instruction ordering local magistrates to cooperate with ecclesiastical authorities “to reduce, little by little, the Indians into towns” and evangelise the Andean population.Footnote 40 Nonetheless, the land question, collection of tribute, and use of Indian labour remained the overarching problems. In the early 1560s, Spanish officials began implementing the formal establishment of rural and urban settlements, which uprooted natives from their lands into church-centred communities, where they could be more easily indoctrinated and monitored. The consequences were the same as those affecting the Caribbean natives in the early 1500s: their autonomy was violated and thousands of them died as a result of violence and epidemic diseases to which they had no immunity. If governor Pedro Lope García de Castro (1564–67) took the first steps in concentrating the Andean population into reducciones, it was viceroy Francisco de Toledo (1568–80) who did it programmatically.Footnote 41 After his arrival in Lima, Viceroy Toledo made a real drive in this direction. During five years he visited most of the Andean territory seeking a better way to reorganise the Andean ecosystems, altering the vertical organisation that was specific to the traditional indigenous organisation (ayllu). He also sought to facilitate the collection of tribute, evangelise the Andean populations and teach them new moral codes, and monopolise the cheap Indian labour force in the newly founded Spanish-like towns.Footnote 42

After Toledo's famous instructions concerning reducciones which were issued, appropriately enough, in 1573, the year in which Philip II's detailed Ordenanzas sobre descubrimiento nuevo y población appeared, the viceroy began concentrating the Indian population into new orderly towns under the spiritual care of the Society of Jesus. This decision provoked some distrust among the other religious orders, particularly the Dominicans and the Franciscans, who had arrived much earlier than the Jesuits. The Franciscans believed the heathen must be urgently converted, and that their spoken truth was so unquestionable that it sufficed to proclaim it and the heathens would accept it. When they became frustrated with conversion, they quit evangelising and mistreat the natives.Footnote 43

As the Franciscans had done with the Jews in Portugal (1499) and the Muslims in Granada (1502), they attempted to force the natives to take baptism.Footnote 44 Not surprisingly, Franciscan projects of settlement in New Spain, which were clearly influenced by ideals of the twelfth-century Cistercian Abbot Joachim Fiore's millenarianism, reclaimed ancient, primitive Christian purity.Footnote 45 In the Yucatan peninsula, Franciscan provincial Diego de Landa (1524–79) reacted violently against any expression of native religiosity, destroying what Spaniards considered pagan books, temples, idols, and false images to build a new Jerusalem.Footnote 46 Unlike Franciscans such as Juan de Zumárraga (1468–1548) and Toríbio de Benavente (or “Motolinía,” 1482–1568), who justified a harsh repression of all Mayan idolatries, Jesuits were focused less on conversion than on salvation. It was not the missionaries who were ultimately to save the Indians’ souls, as Franciscans mistakenly thought, but God. For the Spanish Jesuit José de Acosta (1576–81), the native American religions were certainly diabolic in origin and nature. However, violence could only be justified as a way to rid the Andean population of Satan's influence through extirpation and exorcism.Footnote 47

The Ancient Regime of early modern Spain was a monarchical, aristocratic, social, and political system where the Crown and the Roman church were like twins; it was not possible to think of one without the other. As there were not enough secular priests, the mendicant orders had to administer the Indian parishes. According to their evangelisation programme (Constituciones circa misiones, 1544–45), the Jesuits were not allowed to take care of indigenous parishes (officium parochi), but only itinerant or temporary missions, similar to those developed by the religious order in Europe.Footnote 48 However, after the first Provincial Congregation, held in Lima, 16–27 January 1576, and in Cusco, 8–16 October 1576, Viceroy Toledo gained support of the provincial Jesuit José de Acosta (1576–81), not without criticism from within the order. The so-called “Peruvian Solon” compelled the Jesuits to accept the administration of two of the most significant native parishes of Peru: Santiago del Cercado (1571) and Juli (1576). The first was a district at the outskirts of Lima peopled mostly by immigrants and rootless Quechua-speaking Indians from other places. Juli was a group of Indian parishes near Titicaca Lake, from which Jesuit missionaries expanded south to Paraguay (1609–37). Juli was an astonishing experiment on the Andean highlands, whose native people spoke Aymará, a language that Peruvian Jesuits wanted to learn.Footnote 49 Both Indian settlements became linguistic laboratories for those Jesuits going to the frontier missions.Footnote 50 Within the Jesuit reducciones the “barbarous Indians” could be transformed into civilised—that is, Catholic—subjects by implementing a disciplinary control over them. This forced socialisation aimed at breaking the natives’ deviant behaviours, such as polygamy, collective drinking, idolatry, laziness, and amancebamiento (consensual union or concubinage) between single young men and women.

The gathering of the natives living at the outskirts of Lima was a case in point. Initially they lived scattered through the town, with a notorious concentration around the neighbourhood of San Lázaro, outside the original limits of the city. In 1568, governor Lope García de Castro was the first to attempt to resettle those of San Lázaro into a new area to the northeast of the city, to be called el Cercado (the enclosure). In 1569, after his arrival in Lima, Viceroy Toledo designed a special enclosed area within a high wall with three gates, which were locked at curfew every evening as a way to protect the Indians from Spanish or Negro intrusion to avoid the proliferation of the castas (mixed-race people, such as mestizos and mulattos), considered pernicious for the social order.

The new parish, or reducción, was finally founded 26 June 1570, following the pattern laid down by oidor(judge) Juan de Matienzo's (1520–79) Gobierno del Perú (1567).Footnote 51 Towns were judged by the degree to which they conformed to Matienzo's standards about orderliness, straight streets, spacious plazas, and substantial brick and stone houses with proper portals.Footnote 52 Accordingly, the new Spanish colonial towns should be properly laid out in a straight line, “por sus cuadras, y en cada cuadra cuatro solares, con sus calles anchas, y la plaza enmedio, todo de la medida que pareciere al visitador, conforme a la gente y disposición de la tierra”.Footnote 53 In one of the plots that surrounded the block would be constructed the house of the corregidor, and behind it, the house of the tocricuc or tucuyrico—from the adverb “tucuy” and the verb “rikuy,” which means the one who sees or views everything—who was in charge of the regular inspection of the Inca Empire.Footnote 54 Originally appointed by the Inca, these inspectors, or veedores, were responsible “de ver todo lo que acaecía en aquella provincia, ansí de remediar las necesidades de los pueblos, como de hacer que fuesen bien tratados los vasallos de los inferiores señores”.Footnote 55

Well into the seventeenth century, the Hispanic-Castilian monarchy (Philip II) evolved to a Roman-Catholic monarchy (Philip III), which allowed the Holy See to re-evangelise heretical Europe and strengthen its role in the missionary activities of the East and West Indies.Footnote 56 Full of this triumphant spirit (Ecclesia triumphans), the Jesuits, as pioneers of early modern globalisation, gave new impetus to the apostolic activity in the province of Peru.Footnote 57 The viceroys Marquis of Montesclaros (1607–15) and the prince of Esquilache (1615–22) had excellent relations with the order. They both supported the mission apostolate in the context of the extirpation campaigns agreed to in 1610 by the Jesuit father Pablo José de Arriaga (1563–1622), rector of the College of San Martín, and the archbishop of Lima, Bartolomé Lobo Guerrero (1609–22). This repressive attitude was consolidated during the Synod of Lima of 1613 (Article 8), which prohibited most native dances, festivities, and ceremonies in central Peru, particularly in the archbishopric of Lima.Footnote 58

On 17 November 1626, viceroy Don Diego Fernández de Córdoba, first marquis of Guadalcázar (1622–29), was ordered to accomplish a general gathering of the Andean peoples into towns. Their troubling decline along with the flight from their original settlements led to a demographic crisis that required urgent solutions.Footnote 59 Before taking office in April 1625, the new archbishop of Lima, Don Gonzalo del Campo, was able to verify that the Andean peoples were living isolated at the high mountains, as they used to do in the time of the traditional Inca and pre-Inca rule. On 27 May 1626, the archbishop undertook a pastoral visitation, along with Doctor Hernando de Avendaño and Jesuit fathers Miguel de Salazar (1586–1653) and Luis de Teruel (1590–1670), in order to provide information about idolatrous Indians and other major shortcomings of his diocese. The solution was deemed to be none other than gathering all of them into new “Spanish-civilised” settlements, following Viceroy Toledo's grid-plan townships, where they could be more easily assessed for tax purposes and evangelisation. This major task, the archbishop thought, could only be carried out by the Jesuits, so he resolved to hand over all Indian parishes to them.Footnote 60 Thus the Jesuits became agents of evangelisation vis-à-vis the Andean population that they came into contact with.

During his short tenure, the archbishop López del Campo aimed at converting the unfaithful Indians to Catholicism, beginning with the village of Carabaillo. On 15 June 1626, he arrived in the region of León de Huánuco, next to the lands inhabited by the heathen Carapachos and Panatahuas, in the township of Huamalíes, where he ordered an auto-da-fé, punishing the sorcerers and burning idols.Footnote 61 Given his success, the archbishop sent a group of secular visitators, reaching as far as the province of Conchucos, next to the bishopric of Trujillo, where the famous extirpator of idolatries, Father Francisco de Ávila (1573–1647), had arrived in 1617 to expel all pre-Hispanic religious beliefs and patterns of cultural and ethnic mobility from the Peruvian highlands.Footnote 62 The prelate's aim was to place Indian idolatries and superstitions under the jurisdiction of the Holy Office, but he failed.Footnote 63 There was so much to do and he had no time to accomplish it, dying before fulfilling his purpose.

From the beginning of 1630s, the arrival of a new American-born archbishop, Don Hernando Arias de Ugarte (1630–38), confirmed the importance of reducciones as an indispensable instrument to preserve the Indians from total extinction.Footnote 64 Unlike his predecessors, he was not interested in organising campaigns for the extirpation of idolatries in the diocese of Lima. During the first tenure of Neapolitan father Nicolás Durán Mastrilli (1630–34),Footnote 65 the Jesuits acted in accordance with their missionary identity, launching flying missions to the “lands of infidels” and incorporating them into the existing system of rural missions.Footnote 66 After the Congregation of 1630 the Jesuits acceded to the request of the prelate, as well as to the will of the new viceroy, Don Luis Jerónimo Fernández de Cabrera y Bobadilla, fourth Count of Chinchón (1628–1639), whose confessor was provincial Diego de Torres Vázquez,Footnote 67 and accepted a borderland doctrine, called San Cristóbal de Chavín de Pariarca, to convert the Indians living outside the immediate confines of the Marañón River, using pacific and persuasive methods.Footnote 68 The Jesuit provincial commissioned Father Pedro de Silva, together with two coadjutor brothers, to reduce the great number of Indian villages of Chavín “a sólo dos (. . .) lo que fue negocio de gran dificultad sacar a los indios de los lugares donde habitan, porque piensan con vanísimo engaño que dejan en ellos sus pacarinas, que son el principio y origen de sus linajes y descendencias”.Footnote 69 At the end of 1631, after the foundation of the village of Asunción (15 August 1631), two more Jesuits joined them: Fathers Jerónimo Mejía and Antonio de Aguirre.Footnote 70 Their activities were not limited to this particular doctrine, but soon extended to the neighbouring doctrines of the so-called Carapachos (1632–37) at the request of lawyer Rodrigo Hernández Príncipe, who held them in great esteem.Footnote 71

Indeed, viceroy the Count of Chinchón had the task of implementing the royal instructions in the diocese of Lima and Charcas. To do so he asked for the opinion of some prominent people and civil and ecclesiastical institutions, such as the Society of Jesus. The Parecer of the Jesuits can be read in the letter that vice-provincial Diego de Torres Bollo (1550–1638) sent to the viceroy, dated in Lima, 6 April 1633, standing up for the economic (registers, censuses), sociopolitical (life in human and Christian policía), and religious (evangelisation) benefits that a general reduction would eventually have for the good government of Peru.Footnote 72 In June 1631 archbishop Arias de Ugarte carried out the pastoral visitation of the parish of Santiago del Cercado.Footnote 73 Between 1633 and 1636 he often visited the parishes administered by the Jesuits, whom he had always admired for their exemplary behaviour, informing the king of the spiritual fruit they had borne in his archdiocese.Footnote 74 Likewise the viceroy sent him two reports confirming the importance of the Jesuit missionary project, insisting on how difficult it was.Footnote 75 During these years, the forthcoming rector of the College of San Pablo (1632–34) and current provincial Antonio Vázquez (1634–38) was advocating the missionary and apostolic activities of his predecessor, Father Mastrilli Durán (1630–34), former superior of Juli (1600–03) and former provincial of Paraguay (1623–29), as an evangelical spearhead, without taking other ministries off their shoulders. The archbishop was absolutely in tune with these expansive policies of evangelisation among the Andean population.Footnote 76

Nonetheless, this policy of gathering Indian souls was not implemented without opposition. Those natives who rejected Christianity were regarded as prototypes of evil tendencies in human nature. But was this “resistance” also a deliberately organised reaction against the Spanish imperial rule? In my view, it should be interpreted as an ongoing negotiation through which both the coloniser and the colonised imposed new forms of existence.Footnote 77 In other words, the Andean peoples put in practice an “adaptive resistance” to accommodate not only to a new monetarised economy that pushed them into the mining industry, but also to another sense of belonging and identity, which severely impacted the traditional self-sufficiency and authority of kuraras, or ethnic lords.

Gathering Souls in the Mariana Islands

By the mid-sixteenth century, the Spanish Crown had established an overseas empire of colossal dimensions. In the Philippines, the few Jesuits that arrived in September 1581 via New Spain—and eventually to the Marianas—in response to a plea addressed to the Spanish Crown by governor Guido Lavezaris (1572–75), began fostering a circulation of (missionary) knowledge to a global scale. Although the evangelising task corresponded primarily to the mendicant orders, by the end of the sixteenth century the tendency in the Americas was to substitute friars with diocesan clergy. In the Philippines it was not possible to implement such a reform, first, because there were not enough clergy willing to undertake these ministries, and second, because the Spanish population continued to be low even in places that were already pacified. Therefore, friars ended up serving as parish priests in strategic enclaves where the Spanish peninsular population ranged from scarce to none. To use an expression that became famous, on its regular voyages from Acapulco to Manila, the galleon essentially transported “friars and silver.”Footnote 78 However, this “frailocracy” did not limit the Jesuits’ missionary impact; in fact, despite the acceptance of some parishes, they continued their missionary activities to other more conflictive adjacent islands of the south (Mindanao, Sulu), which were under the influence of Islam, or to the archipelagos of Mariana, Palau, and the Caroline Islands, which were located at the margins of the Catholic Spanish Empire.Footnote 79

Schools or colegios were the Jesuits’ starting point to a new global perspective in Christianity. From them they organised their so-called “flying missions,” which were soon followed by the “long missions” that superiors sent to the groups of infidels across the Philippines.Footnote 80 To attend to these multiple open fronts, General Aquaviva sent twenty-five priests to the Philippines under the auspices of Philip II, who at that time promulgated a royal decree that divided the missions territory of those finis terrae into four areas of influence: Pampanga and Ilocos were to be ministered by the Augustine order; Camarines and Tayabas by the Franciscans; the Visayan Islands by both the Augustine and Jesuit orders; while Dominicans were in charge of the evangelisation of the Chinese population in the Manila Parian and the provinces of Pangasinán and Cagayán. The lion's share went to the Franciscans and Augustines, while the Jesuits received the poorest and least populated areas.Footnote 81 As in the Americas, the (re)organisation of the native peoples was set up around their submission to the curatos (parishes).

The Jesuits, like the rest of the clergy, did not simply act as ministers of God, but as political and economic administrators of the missions they administered. In theory, their objectives were pervasively efficacious: natives were to be evangelised for the greater glory of God (ad maiorem Dei gloriam), thus transforming the identity of the Asiatic Pacific peoples through missionary action. But in practice, Jesuit identity was also deeply transformed by processes of indigenous resistance, borrowing, appropriation, and accommodation over the course of years.Footnote 82

However, in Micronesia, the natives were not regarded as sophisticated civilisations to be compared to the Aztecs, the Incas, or the Chinese or Japanese nations. Still, the Jesuits adjusted their foodways to the social and physical environment of the Mariana Islands—“gastronomic accommodation,” in Peña's words—to overcome the lack of Iberian resources.Footnote 83 In the missionaries’ eyes, the CHamoru (whom they referred to as Marianos) were inferior in moral terms, similar to those Indians inhabiting the Caribbean Islands. In return for avoiding eternal damnation, those “destitute natives” of the Marianas, unlike the Chinese and Japanese, were forced to renounce their beliefs and traditions, and ultimately collaborate with the new political and religious authorities of the Pacific Islands.Footnote 84 To accomplish these goals, Jesuits enforced peaceful methods that ended up being far more coercive and violent than expected.

The conquest and colonisation of the Marianas was never a profitable enterprise for the Spanish Crown. The island of Guåhan (or Guam) is the main and southernmost of the isles and islands that comprise the Mariana Archipelago, a set of fifteen volcanic and coral islands that extend from north to south, forming a wide arc of more than 800 kilometres in the western Pacific, between the Tropic of Cancer and the Equator. Most of them are very small and practically uninhabited (terrae nullius), but the largest inhabited islands have fertile land as well as bays and coves that make them accessible and safe for navigation.Footnote 85

During the initial phase of the conquest and evangelisation (1668–76), Fathers Luis de Medina (1670), Diego Luis de San Vitores (1672), and Sebastian de Monroy (1676), among others, became “illustrious heroes” of the Catholic reform, who died at the hands of Matå’pang, Hirao, Agualin, and other “indomitable barbarians” to defend their faith. As the utmost culmination of the Jesuit missionary experience, martyrdom transformed those islands into central reference places where missionaries watered the soil of indigenous communities with their sweat, tears, and blood.Footnote 86 The occupation of the Marianas in the name of God and Christianity was an action with long-lasting political consequences.

By 1679 the Royal Audience of Manila ordered the deployment of a punitive expedition that was to secure the “pacification” of CHamoru villages through conversion that became virtually synonymous with reducción. Footnote 87 The new mission's superior, Bartolomé Besco (1614–80), along with the German, Italian, and Spanish Jesuits that had arrived in the galleon San Antonio de Padua, agreed that force was necessary to subjugate the dissident groups led by Agualin and other chiefs. The Jesuits—ten fathers, three coadjutor brothers, and oblate Felipe Sonsón—worked in the reduction and evangelisation of the subdued population while the civil authorities promoted the repartimiento of the surviving captives among soldiers and particulars.Footnote 88 As Cynthia Ross points out, “reducción was at the heart of the increased militarisation of Guåhan, with both the government and the military charged with supporting this ecclesiastic policy.”Footnote 89

There were other “heroes” as well, laymen who joined the martyrs as moral referents of conquest and colonisation, particularly the “very pious” Don José de Quiroga y Losada, captain and sergeant major of the Hagåtña presidio and interim governor (1680–81). He was a tough commander, whose severity and force indeed succeeded in destroying CHamoru opposition, punishing the “seditious” CHamoru natives—termed “barbaric, fierce and Jesuit-killers”—who in 1676 had taken the life, among others, of Father Antonio de San Basilio. Instead of gaining the enmity of the Jesuits for his cruel methods, however, Quiroga gained their gratitude and trust.Footnote 90 He set about to capture and execute those who had been directly responsible for the deaths of Spaniards and Jesuits, including Hurao and Agualin, who was captured in Rota and executed in 1680 in Guåhan.Footnote 91

Other “heroes” were those CHamoru soldiers, interpreters, and collaborators, such as Don Ignacio de Hineti (o Hinesi), the “good Christian” from Sinajana, and lieutenant governor and captain general of Guåhan, Don Antonio de Ayihi, who tenaciously defended Spanish missionaries against CHamoru insurgency in 1684.Footnote 92 As some scholars have pointed out, European colonial empires could not have been built without the effective collaboration of local indigenous groups. And the conquest of the Marianas was not an exception. Like Hernán Cortés (1485–1547), Francisco Pizarro (1478–1541), and other conquistadors of the Americas, Spanish invaders of the Marianas integrated native soldiers and auxiliaries as valuable “allies” in their military forces. Quiroga's government lasted for only a year, ending on 13 June 1681. The new governor, Don Antonio de Saravia y Villar, arrived in Guåhan from Mexico, with the post of governor of the Marianas, dependent on the Royal Audience of Manila.Footnote 93 Saravia was an experienced soldier who had served in Sicily for thirty years and who was apparently close to the Society of Jesus.Footnote 94 With the collaboration of faithful CHamorus, Saravia promoted the evangelisation and conquest of the Northern Mariana Islands (collectively referred toas Gani), including those where the first missionaries had already done some evangelising work before the first wave of CHamoru violent resistance in the mid-1670s. He also sought to reinforce the peace and reorganise the population according to stable residence patterns. The “pagan” villages that had not been militarily conquered yet were to pay a tribute in labour and goods that recognised their vassalage to the Spanish king, while the ones that had accepted Christianity were distributed in several reducciones, despite their resistance, and for the next forty years they were exempted from paying tribute.Footnote 95

Following the model imposed in the Philippines, new patterns of semi-urban settlement were applied in Gani, reducing the various houses and ranches around the presidio into three barrios, which concentrated some three hundred families.Footnote 96 Soon after, the natives were forced to live in five partidos or districts, governed by alcaldes mayores, each formed by small municipios or towns, mostly across the coastal zone. These alcaldes were more like military overseers or foremen who supervised the agricultural and livestock production of each village or partido. Footnote 97 The town-dwellers were headed by a native gobernadorcillo (“little governor”) or a fiscal (akin to a cabildo governor), and grouped various barrios whose inhabitants were under the direction of the pre-Hispanic chiefs. Each town had a patron saint and a church or chapel, and the Jesuits organised cofradías and schools for the evangelisation of the natives.Footnote 98 In the Marianas mission, Jesuits had almost exclusive control over the dynamics of conquest and colonisation, but the fierce resistance presented by the natives made war practically inherent to Spanish and Jesuit frontier politics.

Spanish colonisation, of which Christianization was a fundamental aspect, was experienced by native CHamoru as an exercise in exploitation, forcefulness, and humiliation. The physical violence of the conquest also contributed to the construction of the Christian God as far from the loving being the Jesuits strove to present. The system that arose was a militarised society that depended on the extortion of baptised natives. The Jesuit missionaries, like the regular clergy in the Philippines, taught the children at the rebuilt school of San Juan de Letrán different trades so that they could work as carpenters, shoemakers, and so on instead of focusing on a more profound education.Footnote 99 In fact, in a letter to Fr. Francisco García, Father Lorenzo Bustillo (1642–1716) accused reverend superior Fr. Manuel de Solórzano (1649–84) of neglecting the true educational duties of the Society and treating and preparing the youngsters as if they were slaves.Footnote 100 He also complained about the polos (or personal services), an institution of free labour that obligated the natives to provide unpaid labour for the Crown for a given number of days (usually forty) out of every year, in a system not unlike the Peruvian mita, with similarly devastating results and negative reactions.Footnote 101 Having adapted the Filipino system of barangay, some priests used their influence over the chiefs to obtain free native labour to build and repair houses and other buildings, raise and tend to the animals, and work their private and church lands.Footnote 102

After the Second Great War (1684–86), the remaining CHamorus passed the “point of no return.”Footnote 103 The Jesuits organised Guåhan into a republic by reducing it to five assigned districts or parishes—St. Ignatius of Hagåtña, St. Rose of Hågat, Humåtac, Pågu, and Inalåhan (or St. Anthony of Fina)—that separated civilisation from barbarism, “the world of the polis from the world of the beasts.”Footnote 104 Using presidio funds to transform the island of Guåhan into a model Spanish mission, the military officers founded congregations, parishes, and schools to advance the Christianization of the islanders.Footnote 105 As a result, the municipality of St. Ignatius of Hagåtña attained a certain size and importance as a “perfect community” (perfecta communitas), in Thomas Aquinas's words, to successfully evangelise the Northern Mariana Islands (Gani). In recognition, on 30 March 1686, Charles II issued a royal decree declaring it a “city.” At the same time, he declared Humåtac a “villa.”Footnote 106 Unfamiliar with these acknowledgements, the CHamorus continued trickling north to the islands of Gani, which prompted the governor to organise a new expedition of twelve Spanish soldiers and a large number of faithful natives commanded by Captain Sebastian Luis Ramón, with the purpose of bringing them back to Guåhan.Footnote 107

Missions were an important part of religious identity in the Spanish colonial empire. On 26 July 1696, General Joseph de Madrazo, new interim governor of the Marianas, was determined to relocate and reduce the Gani natives to the main islands—Guåhan, Saipan, Rota—to be “instructed and educated” in the Catholic faith. At that time Jesuits clearly had the political and religious leadership of the islands in their hands, becoming the founders of a “missionary state” in which martyrs were permanent moral referents for years to come. But the situation was far from being as idyllic as the Jesuit historian Antonio Astrain imagined.Footnote 108 There was no systematic policy of extermination. However, epidemic diseases (1700), natural disasters (particularly the typhoons of 1671 and 1693), hard labour, continuous wars, and migration took their toll on the CHamorus. In 1701, the natives of the Marianas and Mindanao wrote a letter to King Philip V describing this miserable situation and asking him to address the long-standing grievances caused by the Spanish governors.Footnote 109 By 1710 there were a little over three thousand natives left in the Marianas.Footnote 110 The CHamoru demographic collapse was cause for a great deal of concern in the Philippines and the Spanish court.

However, despite this demographic decline and the appalling corruption of the governors, the Jesuits persisted in the archipelago until 1769, when the Society of Jesus was finally expelled from the Philippines.Footnote 111

Conclusions

From the sixteenth century onwards, Western empires organised and transformed colonised areas into fundamentally European constructs, based on the domination of physical space and the policies of “civilising” the native population, yet with different results. To control spatial boundaries, colonial discourses elaborated mechanisms of knowledge to count, classify, register, and evangelise the “barbarous others.” Because Iberian secular officials and religious priests equated “civilisation” with urbanism, those people who retained nomadic habits, according to Aristotle, persisted in “barbaric, bestial, almost sub-human” practices and idolatries.Footnote 112 To provide a Christian and spatial order in the Indies, the Spanish authorities gathered the native population into towns and parishes as an efficient method of social control. Other Western powers implemented the same policies, like England in Ireland, where Catholic “barbarians” were to receive English civilisation. Conversely, the “civilised Spaniards” considered that the Andean peoples of Peru, and those “barbarous and war-like” natives living in the Oceanic islands, had all of them to be converted to Catholicism and relocated into grid-plan towns.

In the Viceroyalty of Peru, the Jesuit missionaries, as cultural mediators, played a crucial role in the construction of a political/moral order. However, in the long run, the resettling of native population into reducciones failed as the only way to establish a “good sociability.” Andean peoples were not passive victims of metropolitan imperialism. They reacted in several, not always successful, ways. Sometimes they left the reducciones; others adapted to foreign customs and beliefs. In the end, Western colonial power was not completely in the hands of coloniser. Quite the contrary, colonialism should be considered as an ambivalent and fluid process that involves appropriation, cultural borrowing, and effective resistance on the part of the colonised.Footnote 113

Likewise, CHamorus’ cultural patterns survived by integrating, adapting, or reinterpreting the new Christian symbols and codes as a way to preserve their own customs and traditions in an ongoing process of native resistance and cultural continuity.Footnote 114 In this process of CHamoru métissage, women played a crucial role.Footnote 115 As Franz Quimby put it, the CHamorus had always mixed: first, as a result of trade exchanges with neighbouring islanders; and second, from the transoceanic exchanges that facilitated the arrival of the Europeans.Footnote 116 In the following years, the increasing arrival of Spaniards, Philippines, Creoles, and mestizos from New Spain helped to cobble together a neo-CHamoru ethnic mosaic that guaranteed the continuity of the aboriginal CHamoru population and culture through intermarriage with non-CHamoru (taotao sanhiyong).Footnote 117

Acknowledgements

I want to thank the anonymous reviewers of Itinerario for their comments and suggestions.

References

1 The word “CHamoru” was initially used by some indigenous rights activists in the 1990s. Present-day indigenous inhabitants of the Marianas refer to themselves as Chamorro or CHamoru. Although the latter term has been vindicated in recent years, especially in Guåhan (or Guam), the former is still widely used. However, since 1994, Guåhan's Kumisión I Fino’ CHamoru (Chamorro Language Commission of Guam) adopted CHamoru in place of Chamorro to revitalize indigenous language (Rogers, Robert F., Destiny's Landfall. A History of Guam (Honolulu: University of Hawai'i Press, 1995)Google Scholar, 299 note 6).

2 Maldavsky, Aliocha, “Jesuits in Ibero-America: Missions and Colonial Societies,” in Jesuits and Globalization: Historical Legacies and Contemporary Challenges, ed. by Banchoff, Thomas and Casanova, José (Washington, D.C.: Georgetown University Press, 2016), 92Google Scholar. See also Guillermo Wilde, ed., Saberes de la conversión. Jesuitas, indígenas e imperios coloniales en las fronteras de la cristiandad [Knowledge of conversion: Jesuits, Indians, and colonial empires on the frontiers of Christianity] (Buenos Aires: Edit. SB, 2011); Alexandre Coello de la Rosa, Javier Burrieza, and Doris Moreno, eds., Jesuitas e imperios de ultramar (siglos XVI–XX) [Jesuits and overseas empires, 16th to 20th centuries] (Madrid: Sílex, 2012).

3 Thomas Banchoff and José Casanova, “The Jesuits and Globalization,” in Banchoff and Casanova, Jesuits and Globalization, 1–13.

4 José Casanova, “The Jesuits through the Prism of Globalization, Globalization through a Jesuit Prism,” in Banchoff and Casanova, Jesuits and Globalization, 262.

5 On the origins of modernity in the post-Tridentine Catholic world, see Louis Chatêllier, “Conclusions,” in Missions religieuses modernes. “Notre lieu est le monde” [Early modern religious missions: “The world is our place”], ed. by Pierre-Antoine Fabre and Bernard Vincent (Rome: École Française de Rome, 2007), 381–7.

6 Batllori, Miquel, Les reformes religioses al segle XVI [The religious reforms of the 16th century] (Barcelona: Tres i Quatre, 1996), 102Google Scholar.

7 Aliocha Maldavsky and Federico Palomo, “La misión en los espacios del mundo ibérico: conversiónes, formas de control y negociación” [The mission in the territories of the Iberian world: Conversions, forms of control and negotiation], in Monarquias ibéricas em perspectiva comparada (séculos XVI–XVIII): dinâmicas imperiais e circulaçao de modelos político-administrativos [Iberian monarchies in comparative perspective (sixteenth to eighteenth centuries): Imperial dynamics and circulation of political-administrative models], ed. by Angela Barreto Xavier, Federico Palomo del Barrio, and Roberta Stumpf (Lisboa: Universidade de Lisboa, Imprensa de Ciências Sociais, 2018), 543.

8 Kirk, Stephanie and Rivett, Sarah, “Introduction,” in Religious Transformation in the Early Modern Americas, ed. Stephanie, by Kirk and Sarah Rivett (Philadelphia: University of Pennsylvania Press, 2014), 1Google Scholar.

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11 According to Sebastián de Covarrubias y Orozco, “politeia, res publica, meaning polity, the urban, the polite and also politics, the science and mode of governing a city and a republic,” Sebastián de Covarrubias, Tesoro de la lengua castellana o española [Thesaurus of Castilian or Spanish language] (Madrid: Turner, [1611] 1979), 875. See also Kagan, Urban Images, 27–8.

12 Jerónimo de Mendieta, OFM, Historia eclesiástica Indiana [Ecclesiastical Indiana history], ed. by J. García Icazbalceta (Mexico: Antigua Librería, 1870).

13 Charles Verlinden, “Las reducciones y los cambios estructurales en el México hispano (siglos XVI–XVII)” [Reductions and structural changes in Hispanic Mexico, 16th–17th centuries], Revista Complutense de Historia de América 20 (1994): 13–18.

14 For more details on the ideas of Vasco de Quiroga and his reformist policy, see Fernando Gómez, “Experimentación social en los albores coloniales de la modernidad: el deseo utópico-reformista de Vasco de Quiroga (1470–1565)” [Social experimentation in the colonial dawn of modernity: The utopian-reformist desire of Vasco de Quiroga], Boletín Americanista 50 (2000), 101–21; James Krippner-Martínez, Power, Politics, and the History of the Early Colonial Michoacán, Mexico, 1521–1565 (University Park: Pennsylvania State University Press, 2001), 77–83.

15 Charlotte de Castelnau-l'Estoile, Les ouvriers d'une vigne stérile. Les jésuites et la conversión des Indiens du Brésil, 1580–1620 [Apostolic workers in a barren vineyard: The Jesuits and the conversion of the Brazilian Indians] (Paris: Centre Culturel Calouste Gulbelkian, 2000), 399–447.

16 Maldavsky, “Jesuits in Ibero-America,” 95.

17 Aliocha Maldavsky, Vocaciones inciertas. Misión y misioneros en la provincia jesuita del Perú en los siglos XVI y XVII [Uncertain vocations: Mission and missionaries in the Jesuit province of Peru in the 16th and 17th centuries] (Sevilla-Lima: CSIC-IFEA-Universidad Antonio Ruiz de Montoya, 2012), 8–13.

18 Paolo Broggio, Evangelizzare il mondo: Le missioni della Compagnia di Gesú tra Europa e America (secoli XVI–XVII) (Rome: Carocci, 2004), 79–145.

19 Maldavsky, “Jesuits in Ibero-America,” 99.

20 Claude Levi-Strauss, Structural Anthropology (New York: Basic Books, 1963), 85.

21 Kagan, Urban Images, 26.

22 Gerald of Wales, The History and Topography of Ireland (London: Penguin Books, [1185] 1982), 106.

23 Gerald of Wales, History and Topography of Ireland, 102. The very same argument can be found in William Shakespeare's foreboding Forest of Arden: “a desert inaccessible under the shade of melancholy boughs,” cited in Keith Thomas, Man and the Natural World: A History of the Modern Sensibility (New York: Pantheon, 1983), 194–5.

24 According to A. Simms, the medieval idea of barbarian could be better understood from the concepts of modern and periphery, with the Normans and German lands the core of “civilisation,” whereas those peoples to be conquered—Wales and Ireland, on the one hand, and the Baltic and Slavic lands beyond the Elbe river to the east, on the other—were the so-called periphery; see Anngret Simms, “Core and Periphery in Medieval Europe: The Irish Experience in a Wider Context,” in Common Ground: Essays on the Historical Geography of Ireland Presented to T. Jones Hughes, ed. by William J. Smyth and K. Whelan (Cork: Cork University Press, 1988), 22.

25 James Muldoon, “Spiritual Conquests Compared: Laudabiliter and the Conquest of the Americas,” in In Iure Veritas: Studies in Canon Law in Memory of Schafer Williams, ed. by Steven B. Bowman and Blanche E. Cody (Cincinnati: Cincinnati University Press, 1991), 174–86.

26 William Camden, Remains Concerning Britain, ed. by R. D. Dunn (Toronto: Toronto University Press, [1605] 1984), 227.

27 Edmund Spenser, A View of the Present State of Ireland, 50, in The Historie of Ireland, collected by three learned authors viz. Meredith Hammer Doctor in Divinitie: Edmund Campion sometime Fellow of St Johns Colledge in Oxford: and Edmund Spenser Esq (Societie of Stationers: Dublin, [1595–96] 1633).

28 Christopher Harper-Hill, Change and Continuity in Sixteenth-Century England (London: Weidenfeld & Nicholson, 1974), 20.

29 On the Tudor conquest of Ireland and the consolidation of the English Pale, see Karl S. Bottigheimer, Ireland and the Irish: A Short History (New York: Columbia University Press, 1982), 73–112.

30 Ibid., 97–107.

31 Geoffrey Plank, “Deploying Tribes and Clans: Mohawks in Nova Scotia and Scottish Highlanders in Georgia,” in Empires and Indigenes: Intercultural Alliance, Imperial Expansion, and Warfare in the Early Modern World, ed. by Wayne E. Lee (New York: New York University Press, 2011), 240.

32 Nicholas P. Canny, The Elizabethan Conquest of Ireland: A Pattern Established, 1565–1576 (London: Barnes & Noble Books, 1976), 66; Nicholas P. Canny, “Early Modern Ireland, c. 1500–1700,” in The Oxford Illustrated History of Ireland, ed. by R. F. Foster (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1989), 120–30.

33 John H. Elliott, “Religions on the Move,” in Kirk and Rivett, Religious Transformation in the Early Modern Americas, 36–7.

34 As Elliott points out, the Protestant Reformation ideals of sola scriptura and sola fides had other priorities than ensuring that all members of the American society, no matter their social rank or ethnic background, had their allotted space within a corporate, hierarchical ordering of society (“Religions on the Move,” 27, 44).

35 Valerie Fraser, The Architecture of Conquest: Building in the Viceroyalty of Peru, 1535–1635 (New York: Cambridge University Press, 1990), 82.

36 Saint Augustine, The City of God, in Writings of Saint Augustine, ed. by Whitney J. Oates, 2 vols. (New York: Random House, 1948), 2: 493; Thomas Aquinas, De regno ad regem Cypri / On Kingship: To the King of Cyprus, ed. and trans. by Gerald B. Phelan (Toronto: Pontifical Institute of Mediaeval Studies, 1949); Aristotle, Politics, trans. by Ernest Baker (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1946).

37 Anthony Pagden, “Identity Formation in Spanish America,” in Colonial Identity in the Atlantic World, 1500–1800, ed. by Nicholas Canny and Anthony Pagden (Princeton, N.J.: Princeton University Press, 1987), 52–3.

38 Adriano Prosperi, “L'Europa cristiana e il mondo: alle origini dell'idea di missione” [Christian Europe and the world: At the origins of the idea of mission], Dimensioni e problema della ricerca storica 2 (1992), 189–92.

39 Fraser, The Architecture of Conquest, 78.

40 Kagan, Urban Images, 37.

41 Alexandre Coello, Espacios de exclusión, espacios de poder: el Cercado en Lima colonial (1568–1606) [Spaces of exclusion, spaces of power: The Cercado in colonial Lima] (Lima: IEP & PUCP, 2006); Manfredi Merluzzi, Gobernando los Andes. Francisco de Toledo virrey del Perú (1569–1581) [Ruling the Andes: Francisco de Toledo viceroy of Peru] (Lima: PUCP [2003] 2014); Akira Saito and Claudia Rosas Lauro, eds., Reducciones. La concentración forzada de las poblaciones indígenas en el Virreinato del Perú [Reductions: The forced gathering of the native peoples in the Viceroyalty of Peru] (Lima-Osaka: PUCP/National Museum of Ethnology, 2017).

42 Such economic reforms would allow the Royal Treasure to stay afloat and continue with its imperialist policy in Europe, see Peter Bakewell, Miners of the Red Mountain: Indian Labour in Potosí, 1545–1650 (Albuquerque: New Mexico University Press, 1984); Jeffrey A. Cole, The Potosí Mita 1573–1700 (Stanford, Calif.: Stanford University Press, 1985).

43 A Capuchin friar once openly said that “we are not bringing the God's Word to the heathen, but we want to be with them.” If this was not possible, Franciscans gave up. Jorge Pinto Rodríguez, “Etnocentrismo y etnocidio. Franciscanos y jesuitas en la Araucanía, 1600–1900” [Ethnocentrism and ethnocide: Franciscans and Jesuits in the Araucania, 1600–1900], Nütram 24 (1991–92), 3–23.

44 Maldavsky and Palomo, “La misión en los espacios,” 553–4.

45 Kirk and Rivett, “Introduction,” 8.

46 Inga Clendinnen, Ambivalent Conquest: Maya and Spaniard in Yucatan, 1517–1570 (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1987), 76–7; Maldavsky and Palomo, “La misión en los espacios,” 552.

47 Ralph Bauer, “Baroque New Worlds: Ethnography and Demonology in the Reformation and Counter-Reformation,” in Kirk and Rivett, Religious Transformation in the Early Modern Americas, 46–50.

48 Maldavsky and Palomo, “La misión en los espacios,” 566.

49 Alexandre Coello, “La doctrina de Juli a debate (1575–1585)” [The Juli's parish under debate], Revista de estudios extremeños 63:2 (2007), 951–89.

50 Coello, Espacios de exclusión, 250.

51 Juan de Matienzo, Gobierno del Perú [Government of Peru] (Paris-Lima: IFEA, [1567] 1967).

52 Fraser, The Architecture of Conquest, 47.

53 Matienzo, Gobierno del Perú, 49.

54 Anonymous, Relación de los señores que sirvieron a los Incas Túpac Yupanqui, Huayna Cápac y Huáscar Inga [Account of the Lords who served the Incas Túpac Yupanqui, Huayna Cápac and Huáscar Inga], in Informaciones sobre el Antiguo Perú (crónicas de 1533 a 1575) [Information about ancient Peru], ed. by Horacio H. Urteaga (Lima: Imp. y Librería Sanmartí, 1921), 67; Hernán de Santillán y Figueroa, Relación del origen, descendencia, política y gobierno de los Incas [Account of the origin, descent, politics and government of the Incas] (Lima: Editores Técnicos Asociados, [1563] 1968), 3: 385–6.

55 Jerónimo Román y Zamora, Repúblicas de Indias. Colección de Libros Raros o Curiosos que Tratan de América [Republics of the Indies: Collection of rare or curious books dealing with the Americas] (Madrid: Victoriano Suárez, [1575] 1897), 35. Italics are mine.

56 Eutimio Sastre Santos, “La fundación de Propaganda Fide (1622) en el contexto de la Guerra de los Treinta Años (1618–1648)” [The founding of Propaganda Fide (1622) in the context of the Thirty Years’ War] Commentarium pro Religiosis et Missionariis 83 (2002), 231–61.

57 For a study on General Aquaviva's missionary project and his relation to the papacy, see Giovanni Pizzorusso, “La Compagnie di Gesù, gli ordini regolari e il processo di affermazione della giurisdizione pontificia sulle misión tra fine XVI e inizio XVII secolo. Tracce di una ricerca” [The Society of Jesus, the regular orders and the process of establishing papal jurisdiction over the missions in the late 16th and early 17th centuries: Traces of a research], in I Gesuiti ai tempi di Claudio Aquaviva. Strategie politiche, religiose e culturali tra Cinque e Seicento [The Jesuits in the time of Claudius Aquaviva: Political, religious and cultural strategies between the 16th and 17th centuries], ed. by Paolo Broggio et al. (Brescia: Morcelliana, 2007), 77–9.

58 Bartolomé Lobo Guerrero and Fernando Arias de Ugarte, Sínodos de Lima de 1613 y 1636 [Synods of Lima of 1613 and 1636], ed.by José María Soto Rábanos (Salamanca-Madrid: CSIC-Universidad Pontificia de Salamanca, 1987).

59 Estanislao Just Lleó, S.J., “Pareceres ético-sociales de los jesuitas en cuestiones potosinas. Siglo XVII” [Ethical-social views of the Jesuits on Potosí issues], in Actas del Congreso Internacional de Historia. La Compañía de Jesús en América. Evangelización y justicia. Siglos XVII y XVIII [Proceedings of the International Congress of History: The Society of Jesus in America, evangelisation and justice, 17th and 18th centuries] (Córdoba: Imp. San Pablo, 1993), 122–4.

60 Pierre Duviols, La destrucción de las religiones andinas (durante la conquista y la colonia) [The destruction of the Andean religions during the conquest and the colonial period], (Mexico City: UNAM, [1971] 1977), 194–227, 416–17; Paulino Castañeda Delgado, “Don Gonzalo del Campo, canónigo de Sevilla y arzobispo de Lima” [Don Gonzalo del Campo, canon of Seville and archbishop of Lima], in Primeras Jornadas de Andalucía y América [First workshops of Andalusia and the Americas], 2 vols. (La Rábida, Huelva: Instituto de Estudios Onubenses, 1981), 2: 60–3; Emilio Lissón Chaves, Colección de documentos para la historia de la iglesia en el Perú, que se encuentran en varios archivos, 4 Vols, 22 booklets (Seville: Edit. Católica 1947), booklet 5: 86–7.

61 Archbishop Gonzalo de Campo's letter to Father Hernando de Mendoza, S.J., dated in Carapachos 25 September 1626, Real Academia de la Historia [hereafter, RAH], Fondo Jesuitas, Vol. 75, ff. 105r–109v).

62 Henrique Urbano, “Retórica y extirpación de idolatrías en el arzobispado de Lima, siglos XVI–XVII” [Rhetoric and extirpation of idolatries in the archbishopric of Lima], in Religión y heterodoxias en el mundo hispánico. Siglos XVI–XVIII [Religion and heterodoxies in the Hispanic world, 16th to 18th centuries], ed. by Ricardo Izquierdo Benito and Fernando Martínez Gil (Madrid: Sílex, 2011), 157.

63 “Archbishop Campo's letter to the King Philip III, dated 5 October 1626,” in Archivo General de las Indias [hereafter AGI], Lima 302, cited in Nicholas Griffiths, The Cross and the Serpent: Religious Repression and Resurgence in Colonial Peru (Norman: Oklahoma University Press, 1996), 36.

64 Soto Rábanos, “Introducción,” in Sínodos de Lima de 1613 y 1636, xciv–xcv.

65 A short biography of Father Durán Mastrilli can be found in Enrique Torres Saldamando, S.J., Los Antiguos Jesuitas del Perú. Biografías y apuntes para su historia [The former Jesuits of Peru: Biographies and accounts for their history] (Lima: Imp. Liberal, 1882), 194–9; Carlos Milla Batres, Diccionario Histórico y Biográfico del Perú (siglos XV–XX) [Historical and biographical dictionary of Peru], 9 vols. (Lima: Milla Batres 1986), 3: 265.

66 Mario Polia Meconi, La cosmovisión religiosa andina en los documentos inéditos del Archivo Romano de la Compañía de Jesús (1581–1752) [The Andean religious worldview in the unpublished documents of the Roman Archives of the Society of Jesus] (Lima: PUCP, 1999), 39.

67 Juan Antonio Suardo, Relación Diaria de lo sucedido en la ciudad de Lima desde 15 de mayo de 1629 hasta 14 de mayo de 1634 [Daily account of what happened in the city of Lima from 15 May 1629 to 14 May 1634] in Diario de Lima [Daily account of Lima], ed. by Rubén Vargas Ugarte, S.J. (Lima: Imprenta C. Vásquez L., 1935), 121, 254; Torres Saldamando, Los Antiguos Jesuitas del Perú, 191.

68 Father Chaves Carrión, parisher of Chavín de Pariarca, was forced to move away to allow the Jesuit missionaries to establish there; see Lissón Chaves, Colección de documentos para la historia de la iglesia en el Perú, 5: 129–30; Rubén Vargas Ugarte, S.J., Historia de la Compañía de Jesús en el Perú [Collection of documents for the history of the church in Peru, found in various archives], 4 vols (Burgos: Aldecoa, 1963), 2: 39, 46–52; Juan Carlos García Cabrera, “Chavín de Pariarca en el siglo XVII. Un documento sobre una doctrina de la Compañía de Jesús” [Chavín de Pariarca in the 17th century: A document on a doctrine of the Society of Jesus], Boletín del Instituto Riva-Agüero 19 (1992), 45–64.

69 Antonio Vázquez's annual letter to General Muzio Vitteleschi, dated in Lima, 28 May 1635, RAH, Fondos Jesuitas, Vol. 129, 9–3702/20, ff. 228v–229v.

70 Antonio Astrain, Historia de la Compañía de Jesús en la Asistencia de España [History of the Spanish Assistancy of the Society of Jesus], 7 vols. (Madrid: Sucesores de Rivadeneira, 1916), 5: 429–30.

71 Vargas Ugarte, Historia, 2: 50; García Cabrera, “Chavín de Pariarca,” 46.

72 The Count of Chinchón wrote a brief response to the king, dated in Lima, 10 May 1633, making reference to the state of the question as well as to the problems in implementing the grid-plan model; see Just Lleó, “Pareceres,” 124–9.

73 Soto Rábanos, “Introducción,” lxvii.

74 Astrain, Historia, 5: 429–30; Soto Rábanos, “Introducción,” xciv–xcv.

75 Just Lleó, “Pareceres,” 122–9.

76 According to the annual letter, dated in Lima 28 May 1635, Jesuits conducted flying missions to the provinces of Guaylas and Chinchay Cocha, extirpating many “raíces de idolatría y supersticiones, sabidas y no remediadas del cura, no por falta de celo y cuidado sino por la infame inclinación de los indios (al suicidio)” [“kinds of idolatry and superstitions, known and not remedied by the priest, not for lack of zeal and care but because of the infamous inclination of the Indians (to suicide)], RAH, Fondos Jesuitas, Vol. 129, 9–3702/20, ff. 228v–229r. It was not until 1636 when the Jesuits of the College of Quito departed for the missions of Maynas; see Maldavsky, Vocaciones inciertas, 121. As Kubler points out, the definite evangelisation of the Quechua speakers of southern Peru was attained at that time. Cited in Manuel Marzal, S.J., Tierra encantada. Tratado de antropología religiosa de América Latina [Enchanted land: Treatise on the religious anthropology of Latin America] (Madrid: PUCP-Trotta, 2002), 278.

77 Gyan Prakash, “Introduction: After Colonialism,” in After Colonialism: Imperial Histories and Postcolonial Displacement, ed. by Gyan Prakash (Princeton, N.J.: Princeton University Press, 1995), 3–4; James Lockhart, Of Things of the Indies: Essays Old and New in Early Latin American History (Stanford, Calif.: Stanford University Press, 2000).

78 Carlos Martínez Shaw and Marina Alfonso Mola, “The Philippine Islands: A Vital Crossroads during the First Globalization Period,” Culture & History Digital Journal 3:1 (2014), 31.

79 Alexandre Coello, Jesuits at the Margins: Missions and Missionaries in the Marianas (1668–1769) (London: Routledge, 2016).

80 For an analysis of the different “types” of mission, see Maldavsky, Vocaciones inciertas, 71–124.

81 John Leddy O'Phelan, The Hispanization of the Philippines: Spanish Aims and Filipino Responses, 1565–1700 (Madison: Wisconsin University Press, [1959] 1967), 49–50; Lucio Gutiérrez, Historia de la iglesia en Filipinas [History of the church in the Philippines] (Madrid: Mapfre, 1992), 71–3, 204; Lucio Gutiérrez, “The Formative Years of the Archdiocese of Manila (1565–1850),” Philippiniana Sacra 46:137 (2011), 471.

82 For instance, see missionary strategies of the Italian Jesuits, such as Alessandro Valignano (1539–1606), Michele Ruggieri (1543–1607), and Mateo Ricci (1552–1610) in China; in Nicholas Standaert, S.J., “Jesuit Corporate Culture as Shaped by the Chinese,” in The Jesuits: Cultures, Sciences, and the Arts, 1540–1773, ed. by John W. O'Malley et al., 2 vols. (Toronto: Toronto University Press, 2000), 1: 352–63.

83 Verónica Peña Filiu, “Foodways, Missionaries, and Culinary Accommodation in the Mariana Islands (1668–74),” Journal of Jesuit Studies 9 (2022), 263–80.

84 Joan-Pau Rubiés, “The Concept of Cultural Dialogue and the Jesuit Method of Accommodation: Between Idolatry and Civilization,” Archivum Historicum Societatis Iesu 74:147 (2005), 243.

85 Alexandre Coello, “Jesuit Presence in the Mariana Islands: A Historiographic Overview (1668–1769),” Pacific Asia Inquiry 11:1 (2020), 13–14.

86 Matthias Tanner, S.J., Societas Jesu usque ad sanguinis et vitae profusionem militans, in Europa, Africa, Asia et America, contra Gentiles, Mahometanos, Judaeos, Haereticos, Impios, pro Deo, Fide, Ecclesia, Pietate. Sive Vita, et mors eorum qui Ex Societate Iesu in causa Fidei & Virtutis propugnatae, violenta morte toto orbe sublati sunt (Pragae: San Clementem, 1675).

87 The word conversión certainly conveys much more than religious affiliation. As Bayne points out, missionaries certainly recognised reducción or resettlement as a key marker of religious change; see Lynn Bayne Brandon, “A Passionate Pacification: Sacrifice and Suffering in the Jesuit Missions of Northwestern New Spain, 1594–1767” (PhD diss., Harvard Divinity School, 2012), 94–5.

88 Coello, Jesuits at the Margins, 83.

89 Cynthia Ross Wiecko, “Jesuit Missionaries as Agents of Empire: The Spanish-Chamorro War and Ecological Effects of Conversion on Guam, 1668–1769,” World History Connected 10:3, http://worldhistoryconnected.press.illinois.edu/10.3/forum_wiecko.html.

90 Fr. Tomás Vallejo to provincial Fr. Tirso González, Hagåtña, 14 June 1680, Bibliotheca Americana et Philippina, Part III (London: Maggs Bross, 1923), 131. In another letter (to the Duchess of Aveiro, Taytay, 20 June 1680), Francisco Salgado praised “the good hermit Don Joseph de Losada [ . . . ] a man of great virtue, good health, and good intentions, with which I hope he will greatly aid the missionary fathers in the conversion of those barbaric infidels”; in Charles Ralph Boxer, “Two Jesuit Letters on the Mariana Mission, Written to the Duchess of Aveiro (1676 and 1689),” Philippine Studies 26 (1978), 44.

91 Pedro Murillo Velarde, S.J., Historia de la provincia de Filipinas de la Compañía de Jesús. Segunda parte que comprende los progresos de esta provincia desde el año de 1616 hasta el de 1716 [History of the Philippine province of the Society of Jesus. Second part comprising the progress of this province from the year 1616 to 1716] (Manila: Imprenta de Nicolás de la Cruz Bagay, 1749), f. 341v.

92 Since colonial discourses were meant to confer legitimacy to the institutional order that colonisers sought to impose, any politics, acts, or ideas that questioned, altered, or resisted that “juridical normativity” were considered anomalies that needed correction; see Max Hering Torres, “Introducción: Cuerpos Anómalos” in Cuerpos Anómalos [Anomalous bodies], ed. Max Hering (Bogotá: Universidad Nacional de Colombia, 2008), 16–17.

93 “Information and passenger licence to the Indies of Antonio Saravia, governor and captain general of the Mariana Islands,” AGI, Contratación, 5443, N. 1, R. 5, ff. 1–10v.

94 “Relaciones del estado y progresos de la misión de las islas Marianas desde junio de 1681 hasta el 25 de abril de 1684,” RAH, Fondos Jesuitas, Vol. 19, Signature: 9–3593/26, f. 1r–2r.

95 For the first forty years after the colony was officially established, native adults that converted to Christianity were exempt from tribute. After this period, tribute was expected from those who were between the ages of 20 and 50 and married; see “Relación y documentos referentes a las islas Marianas, 1668–1673,” Arxiu Històric de la Companyia de Jesús a Catalunya [hereafter, AHCJC], FILPAS, Vol. 52, f. 349r.

96 Annual letter of 1679–1680, RAH, 9/2677, transcribed in Rodrigue Lévesque, ed., History of Micronesia: A Collection of Source Documents, 19 vols. (Québec: Lévesque, 1992–2002), 7: 218–21); Fr. Bartolomé Besco's letter to procurator Don Pedro de Espinar, Hagåtña, 10 June 1684 (Lévesque, History of Micronesia, 7: 255–7.

97 Marjorie G. Driver, “Quiroga's Letter to King Phillip V, 26 May 1720: A Translation of the Hitherto Unpublished Manuscript in the Archives General of the Indies, Seville,” Journal of Pacific History 27:1 (1992), 98–106, https://doi.org/10.1080/00223349208572696.

98 Patricio Hidalgo Nuchera, La Recta Administración: primeros tiempos de la colonización hispana en Filipinas [The proper administration: Early Hispanic colonisation in the Philippines] (Madrid: Polifemo, 2001), 53–4.

99 According to Murillo Velarde, by 1679 there was already a new building adequate for the seminarians’ living quarters and a chapel dedicated to Our Lady of Guadalupe (Murillo Velarde, Historia, f. 295). For a study on how the Jesuit missionaries strove to modify local children's socialisation and bodily practices in order to “civilise” the Mariana Islands, see Sandra Montón and Enrique Moral de Eusebio, “A Body Is Worth a Thousand Words: Early Colonial Dress-Scapes in Guam,” Historical Archaeology 55:2 (2021), 269–89.

100 Fr. Lorenzo Bustillo's letter to Fr. Francisco García, Hagåtña, 27 May 1681, Bibliotheca Americana et Philippina, 141–2.

101 Luis Alonso Álvarez, “Repartimientos y economía en las islas Filipinas bajo dominio español, 1565–1815,” [Distribution and economy in the Philippines under the Spanish rule], in El repartimiento forzoso de mercancías en México, Perú y Filipinas [The compulsory distribution of goods in Mexico, Peru, and the Philippines], ed. by Margarita Menegus (Mexico City: Instituto Dr. José María Luis Mora-UNAM, 2000), 179–80.

102 For a pioneering analysis of the use of native labour for private enrichment, see Omaira Brunal-Perry, “La legislación de Ultramar y la administración de las Marianas: transiciones y legados” [Overseas legislation and Marianas administration: Transitions and legacies], in Imperios y naciones en el Pacífico [Empires and nations in the Pacific Ocean], vol. 2, Colonialismo e identidad nacional en Filipinas y Micronesia [Colonialism and national identity in the Philippines and Micronesia], ed. by María Dolores Elizalde, Josep Mª Fradera, and Luis Alonso (Madrid: CSIC, 2001), 2: 403; Omaira Brunal-Perry, “Las islas Marianas enclave estratégico en el comercio entre México y Filipinas” [The Mariana Islands, a strategic enclave in the trade between Mexico and the Philippines], in España y el Pacífico (Spain and the Pacific), 2 vols., ed. by Leoncio Cabrero (Madrid: Sociedad Estatal de Conmemoraciones Culturales, 2004), 1: 554.

103 Lévesque, History of Micronesia, 8: 12.

104 Kagan, Urban Images, 27.

105 “Relación del estado y progresos de la misión y cristiandad . . .” [Account of the status and progress of the mission and Christianity], AHCJC, FILPAS, 64, ff. 48r–65r; “Carta Anua de la misión de Marianas. Año 1699” [Annual letter of the mission of the Marianas. Year 1699], Archivum Romanum Societatis Iesu (hereafter, ARSI), Philip. 14, ff. 92–93v, transcribed in Lévesque, History of the Marianas, 10: 173–7. See also Francis X. Hezel, S.J., From Conquest to Colonization: Spain in the Mariana Islands, 1690 to 1740 (Saipan: Mariana Islands Division of Historic Preservation, 1989), 24.

106 See the Memorial (1685) written by Fr. Luis de Morales, in Lévesque, History of Micronesia, 8: 413.

107 “La reducción de las islas de Gani, 1697–1698” [The reduction of the islands of Gani], ARSI, Philip. 14, ff. 88–91v, transcribed in Lévesque, History of Micronesia, 10: 182–90.

108 Astrain, Historia, 6: 831–5.

109 “Memorial de los indios de las islas Marianas y de Mindanao (Filipinas) al rey [Felipe V], para que ponga remedio a los agravios que sufren por parte de su gobernador” [Memorial of the Indians of the Marianas and Mindanao (Philippines) to the king [Philip V], so that he may remedy the grievances they suffer from their governor], Archivo Histórico Nacional (hereafter, AHN, Madrid) Section Nobleza, Osuna, C.387, D.31, f. 1v.

110 Astrain, Historia, 7: 762; Laura Thompson, “The Native Culture of the Marianas Islands,” Bishop Museum Bulletin 185 (Honolulu: Kraus Reprint Co., [1945] 1971), 3; Don A. Farrell, History of the Northern Mariana Islands (Saipan: Public School System of the Northern Mariana Islands, 1991), 176.

111 Coello, Jesuits at the Margins, 305.

112 Aristotle, Politics 3.9.12.

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