As El Salvador careened toward civil war in 1980, a notable voice for the poor and oppressed, Archbishop Óscar Romero, was gunned down in church. A decade of violence, repression, and political upheaval followed. In the over 40 years since his death, no one has ever gone to prison for his murder. Who was responsible for not only silencing Romero, now a saint, but also ensuring that no one would be held accountable?

Background: El Salvador’s Impending Civil War

In the late 1970s, El Salvador was on the brink of civil war. Decades of severe socioeconomic inequality favoring the landed elite minority had created a precarious power imbalance and a poor majority that was growing increasingly fed up with the situation. A military-elite coalition was necessary to maintain order, and it began to crumble as a slowly emerging middle class began pushing for reform. Violent crackdowns on opposition, supported internationally in the context of the Cold War, further radicalized the country’s citizenry, which continued to organize and found a surprising ally in the Catholic Church.

Despite a long history of allying with conservative, elite governments, after Vatican II, some clergy had begun pursuing a more progressive approach to social justice issues, culminating in the birth of “liberation theology.” Focused on actively addressing the struggles and root causes of poverty, this ideology was necessarily at odds with many Latin American governments that sought to maintain the status quo, including El Salvador.

Why Was Oscar Romero Murdered?

Named Archbishop of San Salvador in 1977, Óscar Romero’s closest friends maintain that he was never a liberation theologist, but a shift in his more conservative approach to social justice issues was seen shortly after he took on his new role. A fellow priest and close friend was gunned down by government forces for helping peasants to organize, and the tragedy seemed to radicalize him.

He later said, “If they killed him for doing what he did, then I too have to walk the same path.” He not only began to speak out against military and paramilitary violence but became a voice for El Salvador’s poor as well.

By 1980, Romero had written to US President Jimmy Carter to plead with him to cease providing military aid to the government—to no effect other than the Catholic radio station being bombed the day after he shared his letter with listeners. Colleagues reveal that Romero was receiving death threats—a bomb was even found behind the pulpit after one mass—and though he had come to see his assassination as inevitable, he continued to pursue his mission. On March 23, 1980, Romero delivered what would be his final appeal to El Salvador’s military, demanding they stop the violence.

Mastermind: Roberto d’Aubuisson

The very next day, while saying mass in the chapel of a hospital in San Salvador, Romero was shot and killed by a lone gunman, taking aim from a car through the open doors of the church.

Despite Romero’s fame and popularity, attempts to bring his killer to justice proved just as fruitless as the era’s many other murder and disappearance investigations. Though it continued throughout the 1980s, the investigation faced numerous setbacks, including death threats leading a judge to resign.

However, the unwillingness or inability to prosecute those responsible does not mean the details are unknown. Six weeks after the assassination, an ex-army intelligence officer with known death squad connections, Roberto d’Aubuisson, was arrested.

D’Aubuisson, once a student of the infamous School of the Americas, had either resigned or been forced out of the military after the most recent coup but was still working with officers in secret and frequently appeared on television to denounce “communists” who often ended up dead shortly after.

The raid resulted in a collection of documents connecting him to Romero’s murder, including the “Saravia Diary,” a notebook belonging to former Air Force Captain Álvaro Rafael Saravia. The details discovered in the documentation made it clear that d’Aubuisson, while not the assassin himself, had coordinated Romero’s murder. They implicated some of his underlings as well and supported the accusation that led to the raid in the first place—that he was planning a coup.

Yet d’Aubuisson was soon released, supported by the military segment of the coalition government, and went on to found ARENA, one of El Salvador’s most powerful political parties. As rumors of his involvement in Romero’s murder persisted, he paid someone to claim to be a guerrilla commander responsible for the assassination and maintained the accusation that Romero had been murdered by left-wing guerrillas throughout the war. After the conflict finally ended in 1992, an amnesty law banned criminal trials in connection with the thousands of civilian murders during the war. By the time a United Nations Truth Commission formally determined that d’Aubuisson had ordered Romero’s execution and named the handful of death squad members who’d carried it out, he was already dead of cancer.

Enough Guilt to Go Around: Co-conspirators

D’Aubuisson was hardly working alone. Death squads, as the right-wing paramilitary groups were often called, were not, in fact, rogue gangs; they were largely soldiers and police officers engaged in activities that were not officially sanctioned, giving the government plausible deniability. Much of the intelligence they used to carry out attacks came from the country’s military intel units, and a substantial amount of their support ultimately came from legitimate stakeholders in the country’s conflict: politicians, landowners, and businessmen.

As the UN Truth Commission explained, “. . . some of the richest landowners and businessmen inside and outside the country offered their estates, homes, vehicles, and bodyguards to help the death squads. They also provided the funds used to organize and maintain the squads, especially those directed by former Major D’Aubuisson.”

These same stakeholders also played a role in ensuring that paramilitary groups were never held accountable for their activities—as did a key Cold War ally, the United States. Military aid to El Salvador skyrocketed during the war, despite the knowledge that arms as well as intel provided were being used by the death squads, while Ronald Reagan’s administration worked to discredit journalists attempting to report the truth. But beyond arming and funding the violence, there is also substantial evidence that the CIA actually knew who murdered Romero in the 1980s.

Despite public calls for justice, the US felt that “solving” the crime would undermine broader efforts to ensure that the right maintained power in the fight against communism. Declassified CIA documents dated from 1987 demonstrate that they had substantial intelligence related to the murder, including a lengthy list of probable conspirators and even names of possible assassins.

Accountability: Álvaro Rafael Saravia 

In a groundbreaking report first published by El Faro in 2010, Álvaro Saravia, wanted in the US in connection with Romero’s assassination, offered his version of events. While hiding somewhere in Latin America, Saravia insisted that he did not pull the trigger but acknowledged his involvement in the plot.

He claims that d’Aubuisson ordered the assassination and that the team that carried it out included members from his organization as well as from the team of the former president’s son, Mario Molina. Others involved in the plot, according to Saravia, included the chauffeur, Amado Garay, and Captains Eduardo Avila and Fernando Sagrera, as well as the actual assassin. Many of the names Saravia provided can be found in declassified CIA documents of the era, and they supported the decades-old conclusions of the UN Truth Commission.

Saravia also provided extensive details about the event, including that the assassination squad, unsure where the church was actually located, ended up taking two cars. The car Saravia was in, driven by a friend who was allegedly in the wrong place at the wrong time, parked out front, while the assassin’s car, a red Volkswagen Passat provided by d’Aubuisson, stopped behind the chapel. He also noted that they were working from a safe house owned by businessman Roberto Daglio, who helped bankroll d’Aubuisson’s illegal activities, and claimed that Eduardo Lemus O’Byrne, another Salvadoran businessman, gave him the 1,000 colones (equivalent to USD $114 in today’s money) to pay the unnamed assassin.

To date, the name of the person who actually pulled the trigger remains unverified. Saravia described the paid assassin as a tall, bearded man but never named him. In 2000, The Guardian investigative reporter Tom Gibb claimed that a number of associates of known death-squad member Óscar Pérez Linares recalled him taking credit for the murder. Pérez was a National Police detective who had long worked for d’Aubuisson to infiltrate rebel groups. He was killed in 1986 by a special police unit set up to investigate human rights violations, though the reporter notes one military officer suggesting Pérez and his associates simply “knew too much” to be left alive.

Justice for Óscar Romero

The amnesty laws enacted put an end to many pending investigations and trials related to paramilitary violence. Saravia, living in the US already, had at one point been named in the murder investigation, so the amnesty bought him a reprieve. But in 2003, the Center for Justice and Accountability filed a civil suit against Saravia, then selling used cars in Modesto, California. He fled but was found accountable and ordered to pay $10 million to a surviving relative of Romero’s. He’s been in hiding since. To date, he is the sole individual held accountable, in some form, for Romero’s murder.

In 2016, the controversial post-war amnesty law was overturned in El Salvador, yet little progress has been made in bringing Romero’s murderers—those who are still alive—to justice. In 2018, an arrest warrant for Saravia was issued, but he remains at large, and none of the other men he implicated were pursued. Though many of those Saravia claimed were involved have since been killed, Molina and Sagrera are believed to be still alive and living in El Salvador; Garay is in the witness protection program in the US.

Spanish America revolted from its Spanish overlords in a way that seems to have almost copied the United States of America, with one key difference. These Spanish states did not remain united, even if revolutionary figures like Simón Bolivar may have wanted it. If Bolivar could not even keep Gran Colombia together, how did Dom Pedro I maintain a united Brazil?

Turmoil in Spain

At the beginning of the 19th century, Spain controlled much of South America, all of Central America, and a large swath of North America. Their empire stretched from Patagonia in the south, Texas in the north, Cuba in the east, and California in the west. The main exports of the colonies were cash crops (like sugar cane and tobacco) and mining (mostly silver and gold). Silver and gold were the most important and were imported to such an extent that they even caused extreme inflation in Spain during the 16th century.

By the 19th century, Spain had declined from their glory days but was still a formidable player in the colonial world. However, things soon began to unravel due to the same thing that caused most calamities in the 1800s: Napoleon.

In 1808, Napoleon Bonaparte placed his brother, Joseph Bonaparte, on the Spanish throne. Discontent in Spain over having their monarch replaced with a foreign outsider led to the Peninsular War, which lasted until 1814, when the Bourbon Dynasty was restored in Spain, with King Ferdinand VII taking the throne.

During the Peninsular War, many Spanish colonies saw the Bonaparte king as illegitimate and started to move away from the crown or outright rebelled. When the Spanish regained the monarchy on the mainland, they were already depleted financially and militarily from fighting France. This made it extremely difficult to put down a rebellion, let alone several happening on the other side of the world simultaneously.

Spanish Colonies Rebel

Spanish America was split into four viceroyalties:

• The Viceroyalty of New Spain
• The Viceroyalty of New Granada
• The Viceroyalty of Peru
• The Viceroyalty of Río de la Plata

Revolts began across Latin America starting in 1809. New Granada rebelled in 1810. Following them, a year later in 1811, Venezuela and Paraguay declared independence. Next was Argentina in 1816 and Chile in 1818. During the chaos, Portuguese Brazil managed to annex a part of the viceroyalty of the Río de la Plata in 1817 (this territory would later form modern-day Uruguay).

Later, Mexico followed in 1821, along with all the Central American states. In 1822, Mexico joined with Guatemala, El Salvador, Honduras, Nicaragua, and Costa Rica to form the Mexican Empire. The Mexican Empire would not even last half a decade, as the Central American countries declared independence. These nations united and formed their own country, the Republic of Central America. However, this country too would fall apart.

In 1821, Peru declared its independence (and secured it in 1824). In the same year, Panama broke from Spain; however, they opted to join with Colombia. In 1822, Ecuador joined Gran Colombia as well. They were followed by Bolivia in 1825. Uruguay was finally able to declare its independence from Brazil in 1828. Despite wanting to join Argentina, it was decided that Uruguay would be made into a buffer state between Brazil and Argentina.

Spanish American Isolation

The American Revolutionary War saw 13 colonies that all shared (at least mostly) a common identity. Each colony was easily accessible to the others, which allowed trade and travel between them. They had a shared struggle in the French and Indian War and a colonial system where each colony regularly met with the other twelve.

The Spanish Viceroyalties, on the other hand, had a shared language and a colonial overlord. That is largely where their similarities end. While of course the cultures of each viceroyalty were more similar to each other than they would have been to say an English or French colony, they still were nowhere as unified as the American colonies were for two main reasons.

First: geography. Spanish America was strung out over thousands of miles, making it already a difficult journey to get from one end to the other, not even including all of the physical barriers. Look at the Andes mountains, which separate Chile from Argentina, or the almost impenetrable lush jungles of Peru. The Darien Gap in Panama (still virtually uncrossable today) physically separated South America from North and Central America. The only way to effectively communicate and trade with other viceroyalties was by sea or river, making it all the more difficult for landlocked areas.

The second reason was the Spanish colonial system itself. Spain required each of its viceroyalties to be governed independently of one another. So, if one wanted to talk or trade with another, they would have to go through Madrid; sometimes needing to physically travel all the way to Madrid and back to the Americas.

Spanish America Shattered

As regions within the same viceroyalties were isolated from each other, let alone from other viceroyalties, a collective rebellion was not feasible. While the American Revolutionaries rebelled all at once and formed a cohesive army with George Washington at its head, Spanish America could not do the same.

Different regions of viceroyalties rebelled at different times, often not even in sync within the same viceroyalty. This led to multiple strong men figures like Simón Bolívar in New Grenada (Colombia region), José de San Martín in Río de la Plata (Argentina region), and Miguel Hidalgo in New Spain (Mexico region).

Furthermore, even these figures were not able to keep their respective regions whole due to infighting and differing priorities among factions. Often, while each region was fighting the Spanish, they would have to put down rebellions against their own rule and fight civil wars amongst themselves on issues like maintaining a centralized government or evolving into a federation.

A lack of shared culture, communication, a centralized army, a unified goal, and an agreed-upon hierarchy led to Spanish America breaking up. In fact, when looking at how Spanish America was situated before it began its revolutions, it is hard to ever imagine the region being unified without Spanish force.

Fleeing Portugal

It was almost impossible to expect Spanish America to remain whole. So, how did Brazil pull it off? The answer to this question begins yet again with Napoleon.

The Portuguese crown had a different strategy than the Spanish did for dealing with Napoleon. While Spanish leaders were replaced with a French puppet and engaged in a long guerrilla war to oust the French, the Portuguese royal family simply moved the royal court to Brazil and ruled from there instead.

In 1807, King Dom João VI moved the royal court to Brazil, which made Brazil the effective head of the Portuguese Empire until 1821. During their stay in Brazil, the royal family essentially fell in love with the colony. They began investing in Brazil, funding schools, roads, and trade infrastructure. They even allowed Brazil to engage in free trade outside of their colonial overlords, particularly to trade with the British (a privilege the Spanish colonies desperately wanted). They went as far as to make Brazil a co-equal kingdom with Portugal in 1815.

Brazil was getting treatment Spanish America could only dream of, but this began to change in 1820 when a liberal revolution overtook Portugal proper. The reformers demanded that the king return to Portugal to sign off on the new constitution, forcing him to leave Brazil in 1821. However, he left his son, Dom Pedro I, in Brazil as the prince regent.

Brazil Rebels

Once King Dom João VI returned to Portugal, he was caught between multiple rival factions he did not have strong control over, including his own son (Pedro’s brother) and wife. Portugal began making reforms, many designed to turn Brazil back into a colony instead of a co-equal kingdom. Brazil was upset by this attempt at downgrading their status, and furthermore, the Cortes (the Portuguese parliament) repeatedly demanded that Pedro I return to Portugal.

In 1822, Pedro I, seeing no other path towards Brazilian autonomy, declared independence with the Cry of Ipiranga, when he shouted: “Independência ou Morte!” (Independence or Death). Pedro I coordinated this rebellion alongside Brazilian elites who supported him becoming the Emperor of Brazil, leading the country as a centralized figure.

Armed conflict broke out almost immediately with rebel forces attacking loyalist cities, like Salvador. Fighting lasted from 1822 to 1824 with jungle campaigns, naval campaigns, and urban campaigns. The Portuguese did not put in as much effort into retaking Brazil compared to their Spanish counterparts. And so, in 1825, Portugal recognized Brazilian independence with Pedro I as emperor.

Brazil Remains Whole

Brazil remained whole while Spanish America was completely shattered. Furthermore, Brazil only had to fight for a couple of years while Spanish America fought for decades. Brazil’s success comes down to four broad reasons.

First, Pedro, I was able to legitimize his authority. Brazil was not treated as a backwater region of a colonial empire used only for resource extraction. When the royal family and court moved to Brazil, it became the heart of the empire. Investment rolled into the colony, creating new schools, roads, infrastructure, and dozens of other improvements that allowed for the quality of life in at least some parts of Brazil to be comparable to that of Europe.

Furthermore, the opening of trade with other parts of the world, the further reduction of regulations, and the elevation into a kingdom made Brazilians feel a greater sense of loyalty to the Portuguese. While the Spanish were seen as tyrants by the people of the Americas, the Portuguese were seen in a much better light by not only the people but the Brazilian elites as well.

Second was the centralization of authority. Brazil was run largely as a single colony, unlike the Spanish Empire, which was broken up into four viceroyalties. This allowed all parts of the colony to be on the same page. Essentially, Brazil already had a centralized government with a central commanding figure at the top: Pedro I. Unlike the Spanish Americans, the Brazilians did not have to replace an already existing governmental structure and create an entirely new one; they just had to sever a single thread of contact with Portugal.

Third was geography. The regions of Spanish America were separated from each other by up to almost 5,000 miles in some cases, while Brazil’s regions are separated by at most a little more than half of that. Furthermore, a large part of Brazil is much more easily accessible to other parts due to the lack of geographical boundaries. Brazil has some of the densest jungles in the world, but those jungles weren’t barriers blocking contact from one major part of the empire to another.

Fourth was the level of blowback. Brazil fought a much quicker and easier war than Spanish America had to. This can be attributed to factors such as Portugal having a smaller military than Spain. The Portuguese Empire was politically and economically headed by Brazil instead of by Portugal for more than a decade, strengthening the Brazilian position over the Portuguese, at least for a time. Multiple regions of Spanish America remained loyalist, which gave the Spanish footholds to stage troops and prepare offensives. But in Brazil, virtually the entire colony rebelled, not giving the Portuguese any way to stage a counterattack.

When Brazil formally entered the Second World War in 1942, it was a very unexpected decision. President Getúlio Vargas was an autocratic strongman with close ties to all the major Axis powers. Brazil seemingly had no real reason to enter the war and its territory was not violated by any Axis member state. Nonetheless, it would become the Latin American country with the strongest commitment to the Allies during the war by protecting Allied shipping in the South Atlantic. Its involvement shaped its politics for decades to come.

Brazil Before WWII

During the 1930s, Brazil underwent some of the biggest political and social changes in that country’s history since its independence from Portugal in 1822. The country had faced major instability as a result of power struggles between military and civilian authorities. This was exacerbated by the onset of the Great Depression. Brazil’s government struggled to head off the shockwaves of the global economic downturn. The shock may have been even worse if Brazil had not burned off much of its coffee stocks. This led to political turmoil, giving Getúlio Vargas a chance to take power into his own hands.

When President Washington Luís Pereira de Sousa began cracking down on his opponents, Vargas launched a rebellion against him. Fearing that the country would collapse into chaos, the military overthrew Luís’ and temporarily ruled the country for several days. On October 30, this junta named Vargas the acting president, and he was formally sworn in in early November. He promised to end the chaos in the country and rejuvenate the Brazilian economy.

For the rest of the 1930s, Brazil faced additional political instability from both communist and fascist movements. Vargas did not want his power to be infringed upon and declared a state of emergency. This led to him banning opposition parties, cracking down on dissidents, and creating a new constitution. His political project was known as the Estado Novo and existed until 1945. As Brazil faced major changes to its political institutions, WWII arrived on its doorstep.

Axis Attacks on Brazilian Shipping, 1939-1942

When the war started in September 1939, Vargas vowed to remain neutral. He admired the political systems in Germany, Italy, and Japan and did not want to jeopardize the extensive trade Brazil had with each of those countries. At the same time, Brazil had a close relationship with the United States, and President Roosevelt hoped to preserve that relationship. This meant that Brazil faced a quandary: should it join the Axis alliance when its largest military partner was sympathetic to the Allies?

Germany and Italy resolved that problem for Vargas’s government. In a repeat of the strategy pursued in WWI, Germany began a campaign of unrestricted submarine warfare to prevent supplies from reaching Britain via the Atlantic. This meant that Brazilian ships started to be targeted. The distance between Allied bases in West Africa and Brazil was a short one and its routes were patrolled by Allied aircraft and warships. The British government hoped to get Brazil to agree to patrol its waters and protect the Allied merchantmen that sailed there.

By August 1942, Brazilian ships were repeatedly attacked by German and Italian submarines. Some 15 ships were sunk and many crewmen were killed or wounded by these attacks. Notwithstanding Germany’s previously cordial relations with Brazil, the German U-Boat Command ordered any vessel entering Brazilian waters except from Argentina and Chile to be attacked. The attack on Pearl Harbor meant that the US was involved and other countries in Latin America were now being pressured to help the Allies. Vargas now realized that his country’s entry into the war was a matter of time.

Brazil’s Entry Into the War and Initial Decisions

The attacks by Axis submarines on Brazilian merchant shipping enraged Brazilians, who up to this point had been ambivalent about the war in general. There were riots targeting people of ethnic heritage of any Axis country, especially German-Brazilians. The military was enraged that Brazil’s sovereignty was being violated and insisted on a forceful response. The increased involvement of the US Navy and Coast Guard in anti-submarine warfare off the Brazilian coast meant that Brazil was involved in supplying Allied ships.

Vargas was still reluctant to enter the war because of Brazil’s economy and his fear of civil unrest. However, when it became clear that the public wanted to enter the war, he decided to finally join the Allied war effort. On August 21, 1942, Brazil formally declared war against Germany and Italy. While it cut ties with Japan and arrested Japanese sympathizers, it never formally declared war against Tokyo. Brazil had already cut ties with the Axis powers during the Rio Conference after the Pearl Harbor attacks. Despite his initial reluctance and resignation attempts by some senior officials, Vargas was now all in for an Allied victory.

The Allies were thrilled to have Brazil’s involvement in the war effort. The Brazilian Navy could now assist in patrolling Atlantic convoy routes. Additionally, Brazilian ground forces could join the fight in Europe. The United States provided a massive amount of military aid to ensure that Brazil’s military was prepared for battle. Additionally, Washington financed the creation of a steel mill at Volta Redonda.

The Brazilian Navy’s Hunt for Submarines

Following its entry into the war, Brazil became a big player in the Battle of the Atlantic. While Brazil’s navy was weak by WWII standards and its ships lacked much of the equipment they needed to hunt down and sink German and Italian submarines, Brazil worked closely with the American and British navies to form convoys with escort vessels and aircraft to protect Allied shipping in the Atlantic Ocean. In 1939, it had a mere 19 vessels that were seaworthy; this increased during the war as a result of American military aid. Brazil’s available surface ships were placed under the control of the US Navy’s 4th Fleet. The fleet was aggressive and repeatedly attacked German submarines, although it remains unclear if it successfully sank any.

Brazil’s air force also performed yeoman service. American aid ensured that Brazilian pilots flew top-model aircraft with advanced detection systems. Working with American squadrons from several airfields along the coastline, they managed to drive off Axis attempts to get close to major ports. Twelve Axis submarines were sunk thanks to air attack. Due to an increase in submarine losses, Germany and Italy abandoned their attacks on shipping off the Brazilian coast in late 1943, apart from smaller attacks later on. Brazil successfully protected 3,167 ships in 614 convoys during the war.

The Brazilian Expeditionary Force in Italy

Soldiers from the Brazilian Expeditionary Force in Italy, 1944. Source: National Archives of Brazil

President Vargas promised the Allies that the Brazilian military would join the fight in Europe. After Brazil’s entry into the war, the Brazilian Ministry of Defense created an expeditionary force. Preparations were slow, and the Brazilian public began to say that “it’s more likely for a snake to smoke than for the BEF to go and fight.”

Instead of Vargas’s intention of fielding a corps of 100,000 men, the Brazilian Expeditionary Force ended up being a division of 25,000 men, made up of the 1st, 6th, and 11th Infantry Regiments, the 9th Engineer Battalion, and the 2nd Mechanized Regiment. The soldiers enjoyed the joke and subsequently wore shoulder badges featuring smoking snakes.

After being supplied with American weapons and going through an American training regime, the Smoking Snakes went to Italy with the American 10th Mountain Division and arrived in July 1944 to join the US 5th Army.

Major General João Mascarenhas commanded the BEF upon its arrival in Naples. By this point, the Allies had advanced north of Rome after breaking the German lines. The redeployment of several Allied infantry divisions from Italy to support the invasion of France meant that the Brazilians were welcomed warmly. Despite initially struggling to acclimatize to the weather, Brazilian forces entered the fighting quickly. After seizing the towns of Camaiore and Monte Prano, the BEF moved into the Serchio Valley with other Allied divisions like the 10th Mountain. They held their positions there with a single regiment for several months against German counterattacks.

As part of a major assault on the German’s Gothic Line in northern Italy, the BEF was ordered to assault Monte Castello, a major German position on the Allied left flank. The division was stretched thin and struggled to advance. In just over a day in December 1944, they lost 1,000 men attacking Castello. For the winter, they remained in place until they could advance again in better weather.

The End of the War and Its Legacy in Brazil

In the last spring of the war, the Allies managed to break through the Gothic Line. The BEF seized the Castello and marched northward to accept the surrender of German forces on the border with France. After intense fighting and heavy casualties, Brazilian forces could share in the spoils of victory, and Allied commanders were pleased with their performance. However, they did not participate in the postwar occupation and demobilized immediately after returning to Brazil.

While the Brazilian public was happy with their successes, they did not receive much welcome from the state. The political instability that dominated society in the 1930s returned in 1945 when Vargas was overthrown in a coup. Veterans of the BEF did not receive adequate compensation or support from the state. They were not even allowed to march in public with their uniforms. Many became resentful and this played into the decision by the army to mount a coup in 1964, leading to Brazil’s infamous military regime. Only in recent years have their contributions been acknowledged.

While Brazil was not considered one of the major powers of the war and its contribution to the Allied war effort has largely been forgotten, the Brazilian army, navy, and airforce played their part in aiding Allied convoys and supporting the war effort in Italy. Close to 2,000 Brazilian combatants and civilians died during the war. Of all the Latin American countries involved in the war, Brazil provided the greatest amount of support. It earned itself a place with the other victors of the war.

Ernesto “Che” Guevara was a famous left-wing revolutionary who participated in many Latin American insurrections and rebellions. Born in Rosario, Argentina, he rose to fame as one of the main intellectual leaders of the Cuban Revolution alongside Fidel Castro. After the success of the revolution, Guevara led a brief political career in Cuba. He later traveled to the Congo to support the Simba rebellion movement. Guevara’s revolutionary struggle came to an end when he joined the Bolivian insurgency. He met his fate in October 1967.

1. Che Guevara Wasn’t Born in Cuba

Arguably, Che Guevara’s most notable achievement was his participation in the Cuban Revolution. Given the nationalist bent of the Cuban Revolution, it may be surprising to learn that Che himself wasn’t Cuban. Guevara was born in Rosario, Argentina in 1928, during the “Infamous Decade,” a period in Argentinian history defined by dictatorship and the consolidation of conservative government. Che grew up during the rise of Peronism, the grassroots left-wing labor movement, as well as anti-Peronism, the reaction against it.

Guevara would travel a lot in his youth, eventually ending up in Mexico, where he met Fidel Castro and his revolutionary Movimiento 26 de Julio (July 26th Movement). In 1956, after training in guerilla fighting in Mexico, Che joined Castro and the rest of the guerilla fighters in their covert invasion of Cuba. In 1959, after years of fighting, the revolutionaries triumphed. Guevara eventually became a Cuban citizen.

2. His Real Name Was Ernesto Guevara

Ernesto Guevara was the name given to the Argentinian revolutionary when he was born. His parents were Ernesto Guevara Lynch and Celia de la Serna. In many Hispanic cultures today, including most of Latin America, children are given both parents’ surnames, both of which are part of their legal name, with the father’s last name taking precedence. However, when Guevara was born, this convention was not adopted, and the full name on his birth certificate was “Ernesto Guevara.” Guevara was most famously known as “el Che” or simply “Che,” but this nickname came not from his name but from common Argentinian slang—“che” meant something along the lines of “mate” or “friend” colloquially. To his fellow Cuban fighters, “Che” became the nickname for Guevara, an endearing term of affection derived from mockery.

3. Guevara Had Irish blood

Che’s father, Ernesto Guevara Lynch, was the descendant of generations that originated in Ireland. In the 1700s, Patrick Lynch, Guevara’s ancestor, migrated from Ireland to Argentina. Like other impoverished and marginalized European peoples, many Irish people suffered and chose to leave their country in hopes of a better life in some remote fertile land. Argentina became home to many such Europeans, including Che’s forbearers.

It is said that Che’s father once said that his son’s rebellious nature could be traced to his Irish blood. Juan Guevara, Che’s younger brother, admitted that their father enjoyed the rowdiness and rebellious parts of their Irish heritage. He was known to love a party. In 2017, in honor of Guevara’s Irish ancestry, the Irish post office issued a commemorative stamp depicting Che’s iconic profile.

4. Che Was a Doctor

Long before Ernesto Guevara became the famous guerilla fighter the world would know him as, he trained as a physician. Che studied medicine at the University of Buenos Aires after having been ill for much of his childhood. Guevara had asthma, and his temperature had to be taken 10 times a day, according to his mother. He led a sheltered life until his mother ultimately decided to give him a normal life, even if it meant a struggle for him. In 1953, Guevara graduated from the Faculty of Medicine with a specialty in leprosy. After leaving university in Argentina, Guevara interned at the General Hospital in Mexico City but left in 1955 to join Fidel and Raul Castro as a medic in their expedition.

5. He Held Multiple Positions in the Cuban Government

It is no surprise that one of Fidel Castro’s closest allies became an important leader inside Cuba’s newly established revolutionary government. What some may find surprising, however, is the number of roles Che took on in the Cuban state. Initially, Guevara was named Chief of the San Carlos de la Cabaña Fortress at the Bay of Havana. He soon found himself migrating from role to role, from Director of the  National Institute of Agrarian Reform’s Department of Industrialization to Minister of Industry, to even President of the National Bank of Cuba, where he famously signed banknotes “Che.” But perhaps more importantly, officially and unofficially, Guevara became a representative of the Cuban revolution on the world stage, forming a special relationship with the Soviet Union and other world governments aligned to the left of the political spectrum.

6. He Helped Increase Literacy Rates in Cuba

One of the Cuban Revolution’s landmark achievements was the virtual abolishment of illiteracy in the country. Spearheaded by Che, the Campaña Nacional de Alfabetización en Cuba (Cuban National Literacy Campaign) deployed an army of volunteers that promised to educate young and old in a time span of eight months. The literacy campaign produced incredible results, and, by 1961, the Cuban government had proclaimed success and declared Cuba a “Territory Free of Illiteracy.” A Cuban organization was awarded the King Sejong Literacy Prize by UNESCO, and the very same UNESCO published a report that confirmed the campaign’s success and cemented the Cuban government’s efforts.

7. He Took One Crucial Bike Trip Across South America

During his formative years, Guevara took an epic motorcycle trip across South America. Guevara traveled alongside his friend Alberto Granado. Both Guevara and Granado had been studying at university but, upon finishing, chose to take a break from student life and see the world. Before surrendering themselves to the process of getting their “títulos” (professional degrees), Guevara and Granado opted for an exciting change of scene, one that would unwittingly set into motion the creation of the man now known as el Che.

The friends traveled across Argentina, Chile, Peru, Colombia, and Venezuela. By the time Guevara reached the Argentinian border with Chile, a letter sent by “Chichina” was already awaiting him, breaking up with Guevara from a distance. The adventure Guevara and Granado set out to make ended up bringing them into close contact with the broad injustices and inequalities throughout Latin America. Ernesto Guevara was no longer; El Che, the revolutionary, was born.

8. Guevara Became Radicalized Against the United States in Guatemala

Shortly after leaving the University of Buenos Aires, Guevara traveled with friends to Central America. Unrelated to Guevara’s motorcycle journey, this experience proved equally transformative. Eventually, the friend group ended up in Guatemala, hoping to see what they believed was one of the only truly revolutionary endeavors on the continent: the Guatemalan Agrarian Reform. Jacobo Arbenz’s government had issued Decreto 900, by which an ambitious agrarian reform was put into action, going directly against local elites and the American-based United Fruit Company.

The expropriation of land carried out under the reform drew suspicions of communism in the US. In 1954, Arbenz’s government was deposed in a US-backed coup, largely as a result of longtime CIA covert operations in the region and heavy United Fruit Company lobbying of the United States government. Afterward, Guevara became convinced that the United States was an imperialist superpower and began seeing it as a threat.

9. Che Had Five Children

Guevara had at least five children, though there are some suggestions that Che fathered a sixth child in an extramarital affair. Guevara’s first child came from his marriage with fellow Peruvian revolutionary Hilda Gadea. Hilda Guevara was the only child from Guevara’s first marriage but eventually had four half-siblings. After Guevara married fellow Cuban revolutionary Aleida March Torres, the couple had four children: Aleida, Camilo, Celia, and Ernesto.

Guevara and his family were only together until 1967 when he was killed in Bolivia. His daughter, Aleida, recalls having little time with her father; she was only six when he was executed. Her brother, Ernesto, born in 1965, barely even knew his father. That said, the Guevaras were, by all accounts, a humble, caring family. And though they chose not to be surrounded by privilege, they enjoyed a good life in Cuba with friends like Fidel Castro himself.

10. Che’s Face Is Famous Worldwide

Che Guevara’s portrait may be one of the most famous in history. Photographed by Cuban photographer Alberto Korda, Guevara’s stoic front-facing portrait immortalized him as the Guerrillero Heroico, or the heroic guerilla fighter. If there is a single reason that Guevara is known worldwide and so easily recognizable, it is Korda’s portrait. The photograph, taken in a rather solemn context, would later be transformed into a two-color image by Irish artist Jim Fitzpatrick. Both Korda’s and Fitzpatrick’s images proved consequential, and the face of Guevara came to be synonymous with the face of revolution. Yet, while many can identify Guevara as the man in the image, the question remains: how much do they really know about Che?

The Aztec Empire faced military opposition, devastating disease, and brutal starvation in the final years of its reign over central Mexico. Exploring the life and death of its final emperor, Cuauhtémoc, provides both an individual and a broader perspective on this fight for survival.

What (Little) is Known of Cuauhtémoc’s Early Life

Cuauhtémoc, the man who would become the last true Aztec emperor, was born into a world on the verge of upheaval. Born around 1500 AD, he came into the world at the zenith of Aztec power. His uncle (and later father-in-law), Montezuma II, ruled the Aztecs as Huey Tlatoani (emperor) from 1502 to 1520, expanding their empire and making them the preeminent power in Mesoamerica. When he reached adulthood, Cuauhtémoc would have undoubtedly taken part in his uncle’s campaigns of conquest, giving him the confidence and skills in battle expected of Aztec nobility.

The Aztecs’ expansion put a large target on the empire’s back that unhappy vassal states wished desperately to take a shot at. These vassals got their wish when Hernan Cortés and his retinue of conquistadors appeared on the shores of what is now Vera Cruz, Mexico. As Cortés marched inland, watched the entire way by scouts from Montezuma’s court, he used a string of interpreters to learn about the Aztecs and their gilded capital city of Tenochtitlan, as well as to gather allies from among the disaffected.

Montezuma’s policy seems to have been one of cautious optimism, perhaps hoping to turn the newcomers into yet another client-state. As such, when Cortés reached Tenochtitlan, he and his men were allowed to stay within the capital. For his part, Cuauhtémoc was not a fan of the Spaniards (to say the least).

These events set up the tumultuousness that defined Cuauhtémoc’s time as emperor. A young man when he ascended to leadership, he was a young man still when he died a few years later. But the movement he led while Huey Tlatoani has since earned him a place in the annals of Mexican national heroes.

Chaos in Tenochtitlan

Cortés and his retinue reached Tenochtitlan on November 8, 1519. For the first few months of their stay, it seemed all was going according to Montezuma’s plan of turning this new band of iron-clad warriors into his vassals. Unfortunately for the Huey Tlatoani, however, the Spaniards had other plans.

In May 1520, the Aztecs’ holiest celebration, the Festival of Toxcatl, took place. The Spaniards were invited to attend; they were, after all, diplomatic guests. As part of the celebration, the city’s best warriors gathered in one area to perform a ceremony known as the Dance of the Serpent. With so many warriors concentrated in one place without their weapons or armor, the Spanish saw their chance.

Donning their armor, the conquistadors blocked any points of egress the Aztec soldiers could have used and moved to attack. The resulting massacre has come to be known as the Massacre of Toxcatl. According to one surviving Spanish source, “the blood of the warriors flowed like water and gathered into pools. The pools widened, and the stench of blood and entrails filled the air.” In the sheer panic of the moment, Montezuma was also taken captive. He would later be killed, with many historians suspecting foul play by the Spanish.

Bruised but not beaten, the Aztec mounted a counter-attack. After several weeks of fighting, it came to a head on a night remembered by its Spanish name, La Noche Triste (Night of Sorrows). With their position in the city weakened by weeks of fighting, the Spaniards decided to withdraw and regroup in an area where they would not be surrounded. According to Bernal Díaz del Castillo, a Spaniard who took part in the battles for Tenochtitlan:

“Many squadrons attacked us both by day and night, and the powder was giving out, and the same was happening with food and water, and the great Moctezuma being dead, they were unwilling to grant the peace and truce, which we had demanded of them.”

They decided to leave by night, hoping the cover of darkness would make it easier to flee. The Aztecs, however, had burned the bridges leading off the island city to the mainland, and so the Spanish had to construct a makeshift bridge. Despite their best laid plans, the Aztec were one step ahead of them. Bernal Díaz describes how, once the bridge had been put in place, “the voices, trumpets, cries, and whistles of the Mexicas began to sound and they called out in their language to the people of Tlaltelolco [another island in Lake Texcocco, famous for its rowers], ‘Come out at once with your canoes for the Teules are leaving! Cut them off so that not one of them will be left alive!’ When I least expected it, we saw so many squadrons of warriors bearing down on us, and the lake so crowded with canoes that we could not defend ourselves.”

The result was a slaughter. The bodies of conquistadors and their Indigenous allies clogged the bridge so that the survivors had to scramble over the dead to make it to safety.

Cuauhtémoc Takes the Throne

After the Spanish were ousted from their capital, the Aztec had to contend with another unexpected foe: smallpox. Brought to their world by the Europeans, the Aztec were ravaged by the disease. To add insult to injury, the smallpox outbreak killed Montezuma’s successor, Cuitlahuac, depriving an empire under threat of its second leader in less than a year. Elected Huey Tlatoani immediately after Cuitlahuac’s death, Cuauhtémoc was Cuitlahuac’s nephew and the son of a former emperor, Ahuitzotl.

Cuauhtémoc was a young, energetic warrior who was ready to take the fight to the Spanish. As a warrior, it seems likely that he took part in the battle of Noche Triste, which expelled Cortés from the city. Attempting to seize the momentum of this victory and shore up Aztec possessions not already controlled by Cortés or his indigenous allies, Cuauhtémoc fortified several areas in and around his capital.

As the war dragged on, these fortifications allowed the Aztec forces under Cuauhtémoc to win several victories against the Spanish-led alliance, despite the large numbers they faced. Cuauhtémoc was clearly the strategic military mind that the Aztec needed at that moment. But would his efforts prove sufficient?

The Siege of Tenochtitlan, May-August 1521

Slowly but surely the sheer numbers of the Spanish-Tlaxcalan alliance pushed the Aztec forces back. Pinned into their capital, the Aztecs were surrounded by a force comprising tens of thousands of Mesoamerican soldiers, with a vanguard of 800 conquistadors. Cuauhtémoc’s final battle for his empire was underway.

Taking place from May to August 1521, the Siege of Tenochtitlan was a brutal affair for everyone in the city. The Aztec forces put up a good defense, though their numbers had been significantly reduced over the last year fighting both a war and smallpox. To improve his city’s defenses, Cuauhtémoc ordered bridges repaired, barricades constructed, and canals deepened. This made the island city even harder for opposing forces to reach. He also ensured that his armed forces were supplied with fresh food, water, and weapons as needed. Some Aztecs had even retrofitted their spears with captured Spanish steel, making these brave and skilled fighters even more dangerous.

Cuauhtémoc’s strategy worked for a time. Spanish forces were captured and sacrificed to Huitzilopochtli, the Aztec god of war and their patron deity. The sounds of these sacrifices, which involved a priest cutting into the chest and pulling out the still-beating heart, terrified the Spanish, who, unlike their Mesoamerican allies, were not used to this ceremony. To try to gain a leg up, Cortés ordered the pieces of his scuttled ships brought from the Mexican coast to Lake Texcoco (in which Tenochtitlan sat) and reconstructed them so he could attack from the water as well.

Eventually, starvation and thirst in Tenochtitlan took their toll. The Spanish-Tlaxcalan forces began gaining footholds on the island, hemming the Aztec forces into the strongest parts of the city. But, eventually, they too gave way.

In August, after 93 days of siege warfare, the Spanish-Tlaxcalan forces broke through to the heart of Tenochtitlan. The invading forces destroyed and looted the city, killing and assaulting its residents as they went. Cuauhtémoc tried to flee with his family and surviving military leaders. Hearing of the emperor’s attempt to reach safer ground, presumably to continue the fight, Cortés dispatched men to capture him, which they did.

Cuauhtémoc’s Death and Legacy

While the Aztec Empire had been defeated, Cuauhtémoc’s personal battle was not over. Brought back to his defeated city under force of arms, Cuauhtémoc was tortured by conquistadors who wanted to know where the former emperor kept his empire’s gold. Despite their brutal tactics, including burning his feet, Cuauhtémoc never gave the Spaniards the information they wanted.

Due to Cuauhtémoc’s bravery in the face of torture, Cortés feared the emperor would start a rebellion against his rule. So, when Cortés left Tenochtitlan to go on an expedition into Central America, he took Cuauhtémoc with him. Partway through the journey, in what is now southern Guatemala, Cortés held a kangaroo court where Cuauhtémoc was tried and convicted of conspiracy. The conquistadors hanged him on the spot.

In the centuries since his death, Cuautehmoc has become a folk hero, especially in Mexico. Murals and statues depicting him can be found throughout Mexico City, which stands on the remains of the old Aztec capital. But the most famous exhibition to the memory of Cuauhtémoc comes from Ixcateopan, Mexico. In 1949, in this small town in the central Mexican state of Guerrero, archaeologists claimed they had found the bones of Cuauhtémoc. While later genetic testing of the bones showed they were not, in fact, those of the last Huey Tlatoani, citizens of Ixcateopan became convinced that the original archaeological team was right. A shrine was erected to house these bones, which still stands today, and has become a source of local pride.

Following his defeat in the 1912 presidential election, Theodore Roosevelt refused a leisurely retirement and sought a new challenge. Roosevelt seized the opportunity to join an expedition to explore the River of Doubt, an uncharted river in the Amazon rainforest, led by the renowned Brazilian explorer Cândido Rondon. The Roosevelt–Rondon Scientific Expedition down the River of Doubt was a grueling and dangerous journey that nearly cost the former president his life. Nonetheless, the expedition was ultimately a triumph of exploration.

Roosevelt’s Search for Adventure After Defeat

In the 1912 presidential election, Theodore Roosevelt attempted to regain the presidency as the candidate for the Progressive Party. Roosevelt ran a strong campaign and demonstrated his continued vitality and courage by delivering a speech after being shot in the chest during a failed assassination attempt.

However, Roosevelt ended up splitting the vote with President Taft, who was seeking re-election as the candidate for the Republican Party. The result was that Democrat Woodrow Wilson was elected President in a landslide victory in the electoral college.

Throughout his life, Roosevelt sought strenuous exercise and adventure following personal or political setbacks. For example, after Roosevelt’s first wife had died in 1884, he went west and embraced the hard life of a rancher in the Dakotas. Similarly, after Roosevelt’s term as President had expired in 1909, he immediately embarked on a year-long safari in Africa.

It was therefore entirely consistent with Roosevelt’s past behavior that he leapt at an offer from the government of Brazil to join an expedition to explore the depths of the Brazilian rainforest.

The Roosevelt–Rondon Scientific Expedition

The government of Brazil selected Colonel Cândido Rondon to lead their distinguished American guest on his journey. Rondon was a legendary explorer in Brazil and in many ways embodied Roosevelt’s philosophy of living a strenuous life.

Rondon was a Brazilian army officer with Indigenous heritage. As a young officer, Rondon had participated in the coup that deposed Pedro II, the last Emperor of Brazil. Brazil’s new republican government appointed Rondon to build telegraph lines to Brazil’s remote western regions and neighboring countries.

To complete this work, Rondon spent years living in Brazil’s Amazon rainforest and explored previously uncharted territory. Rondon also contacted various Indigenous groups, some of whom were hostile to his work. During this time, Rondon adopted the philosophy of “die if necessary, but never kill.” This philosophy would define his life’s work with Brazil’s Indigenous peoples.

On a previous expedition in western Brazil, Rondon had discovered the headwaters of an uncharted river, which he named the Rio da Dúvida (“River of Doubt”). Rondon proposed to Roosevelt that their expedition chart this river. Rondon made it clear to Roosevelt that he would only consent to guide the famous American through the jungle if the expedition would serve a serious scientific purpose.

Roosevelt was thrilled by the prospect of exploring unknown territory and agreed to journey down the River of Doubt. Roosevelt’s son, Kermit Roosevelt, joined his father on the journey. The Roosevelt–Rondon Scientific Expedition was formed.

Into the Jungle: Early Struggles

The Roosevelt-Rondon Scientific Expedition faced hardship as soon as it set out in December 1913 from the town of Cáceres. To reach the headwaters of the River of Doubt required over two months of travel deep into the interior of Brazil. The journey was made in oppressive heat, and the travelers were plagued by swarms of insects.

Many supplies had to be abandoned on the arduous journey to the river. The expedition had to reduce its size due to dwindling supplies; ultimately 22 men, including both Roosevelts, Rondon, a Brazilian army lieutenant, a doctor, an American naturalist, and 16 Brazilian porters started down the River of Doubt on February 27, 1914.

The expedition was forced to abandon several Canadian canoes during the journey to the river. This decision would be a source of regret because the expedition was then forced to use dugout canoes for the journey down the River of Doubt. Dugout canoes had the advantage of being constructed from trees found in the jungle. However, they were also very heavy and difficult to maneuver on the river.

The challenges of using the heavy dugout canoes were demonstrated just a few days into the descent of the River of Doubt when the expedition was required to spend March 3 to 5 portaging around impassable rapids. The work of carrying the canoes through the jungle was exhausting. The expedition members did not know that this was just the beginning of their struggles on the River of Doubt.

The Expedition’s Troubles Mount: Delay and a Drowning

The expedition’s troubles mounted as it continued down the River of Doubt. Progress was excruciatingly slow. Frequent rapids were encountered. Each time, a difficult and lengthy portage through the steaming, insect-ridden jungle was required.

The expedition was further slowed by the March 11 sinking of two canoes that had broken free from their moorings. The loss of the canoes necessitated spending until March 15 building new dugouts from nearby trees. The delay was problematic as the expedition was consuming its food supplies at an alarming rate given the slow progress.

On March 15, the expedition suffered its first fatality when a canoe containing Kermit and two Brazilian porters became caught in the rapids and overturned. Kermit and one of the porters were swept downstream but eventually were able to reach shore. The other Brazilian porter, Antônio Simplício da Silva, drowned. Sadly, he would not be the last fatality on the journey.

The Cinta Larga Shadow the Expedition

The following day, March 16, the expedition had its first encounter with the Cinta Larga, an uncontacted Indigenous group. By this point, the expedition had consumed nearly a third of its food supplies, and it became essential to supplement their supplies by hunting.

Rondon was looking for game with his dog, Lobo, several feet ahead when he suddenly heard Lobo yelp. When Rondon found Lobo, the dog was dead, shot by two poisonous arrows. The expedition quickly mounted a guard, fearing an attack, but none emerged. They left gifts for the Cinta Larga to let them know they were not angry about Lobo and that the expedition’s intentions were peaceful. Throughout the remainder of the expedition, the Cinta Larga would shadow the explorers.

Many decades later, after the Cinta Larga were formally contacted, their oral history revealed that they debated attacking and wiping out the expedition, but ultimately no action was taken. Roosevelt wrote that the expedition often heard the Cinta Larga and encountered abandoned villages and other signs of their presence but never saw them.

Crisis in the Jungle: Disease and Murder

From March 16 to April 3, the expedition made slow progress. The explorers continued to encounter rapids and lost more canoes. Non-essential supplies had to be abandoned, and food was increasingly scarce. The insects were ferocious and began eating the men’s clothing.

Roosevelt and Kermit were both suffering from fevers. Other members suffered from dysentery. Many of the Brazilian porters became unable to work due to swollen feet and other injuries incurred during the hard work of portaging the dugouts through the rough terrain. Only Rondon seemed immune to the effects of the jungle.

Morale plummeted and tensions began to rise. On April 3, a porter named Julio was accused by a corporal of stealing food. Julio responded by shooting the corporal dead and running into the jungle armed with a carabine. Roosevelt and the other members of the expedition immediately armed themselves. They tried to apprehend the murderer, but he had vanished into the jungle. The expedition recovered Julio’s carabine in a bush, which reassured them he was no longer a threat.

The expedition had no time to continue their search, so after burying the corporal, it resumed its journey. Julio would later be spotted on the riverbank begging to surrender, but the expedition could not stop. Rondon later sent two men back to look for Julio, but he was never found and is assumed to have perished in the jungle.

Theodore Roosevelt Near Death

A new crisis now developed on the expedition: Theodore Roosevelt was dying. On March 27, Roosevelt had plunged into the river to prevent two canoes from drifting away. During his efforts to save the canoes, Roosevelt had badly cut his leg on some rocks. Proper hygiene was impossible to maintain on the expedition, and after a few days, Roosevelt’s wound became badly infected.

The former President became delirious and spent much of this period lying down in his canoe or being carried through the jungle on a litter during portages. It was clear to everyone that Roosevelt would die if he did not receive proper medical treatment. Unfortunately, no one knew how much longer it would take to reach settled territory.

Roosevelt made a remarkable declaration to Kermit, stating that he was aware that he was slowing down the progress of the expedition and therefore endangering everyone’s lives. Roosevelt told Kermit to leave him behind in the jungle and save the rest of the expedition. Kermit promptly refused, telling Roosevelt that he was going to bring him home alive or dead, and it would be easier if he was alive.

Roosevelt was not abandoned by the expedition, but his willingness to sacrifice himself is a testament to his courage.

Salvation: The End of the River of Doubt

Roosevelt was not the only member feeling the effects of disease. Many of the Brazilian porters were now too sick to work and the expedition was still making slow progress through the never-ending rapids on the River of Doubt. The effects of disease and fatigue were magnified by the expedition being on half-rations to conserve supplies. The first two weeks of April were a time of crisis and plummeting morale for the Roosevelt-Rondon Scientific Expedition.

On April 15, the expedition finally had a stroke of good luck when it encountered rubber tappers, Brazilians who lived on the frontier and earned a living harvesting rubber trees. The rubber tappers were able to provide supplies to the exhausted explorers.

On April 26, the canoes reached the Aripuanã River. A relief party from the Brazilian government had already established a camp and was flying the flags of Brazil and the United States to greet the expedition. A ceremony was held where the River of Doubt was officially renamed Rio Roosevelt.

The expedition was finally safe, and Roosevelt was taken for urgent medical treatment.

A Costly Triumph

Roosevelt returned to the United States a hero. He quickly published a book about his adventure, Through the Brazilian Wilderness, which was an instant best seller. Roosevelt then embarked on a lecture tour to explain his findings and rebut skepticism that he had really explored an uncharted river in the interior of Brazil.

Roosevelt and Rondon developed a mutual respect during the expedition. Through the Brazilian Wilderness was partly dedicated to Rondon, who Roosevelt described as an “intrepid explorer.” When they parted, Rondon promised to visit Roosevelt, and told him he would come to the US when Roosevelt was next inaugurated President of the United States.

Roosevelt would never again be President. His health never recovered from his adventure on the River of Doubt and he was plagued by the effects of tropical diseases for the rest of his life. Roosevelt died on January 6, 1919, less than five years after the end of the expedition.

The Roosevelt-Rondon Scientific Expedition was a triumph of exploration, but it permanently damaged Roosevelt’s health and almost certainly shortened his life.

By the late 19th century, the term gringo was applied almost universally to white Americans, and it was well established across Latin America, with apparent origins in Mexico. Yet, the word remained intriguing and ambiguous. More than a century later, the debate over its origins and implications remains unresolved. Where did the word “gringo” truly come from, what does it actually mean, and why does it still spark controversy?

Gringo: A Word That Intrigues and Divides

In 1896, as he was about to begin his journey through South America, American journalist and traveler Harry Foster wrote in one of his famous travelogues:

“Colonel Charles Jeffs, our guide in Honduras, made us understand that it was as gringos, or foreigners, we were thereafter to be designated and disliked.”

As travelers like Foster and his companions ventured deeper into Latin America, they often wondered what the sobriquet truly meant, what connotations it carried, and, more importantly, what kind of reception they could expect: warm hospitality, indifferent tolerance, or something more hostile?

The debate over the term’s meaning and origins has persisted for centuries. Where did gringo come from, and why do people still argue about its roots?

The Mexican-American War and the Legends

One of the most widespread myths (perhaps due to the sheer number of people who believe it) is that the word gringo originated in the 1840s during the Mexican-American War (1846-1847), a conflict that resulted in Mexico losing over half of its territory, including California, New Mexico and parts of other current US states. Even 170 years later, this war remains a fresh wound in Mexican memory.

The term gringo was certainly in use right after the war. In 1849, Lieutenant Henry Wise, who wrote under the pen name “Harry Gringo,” published a novel titled Los Gringos, in which he explained:

“The word gringo is an epithet—and rather a reproachful one—used in California and Mexico to designate the descendants of the Anglo-Saxon race. The definition of the word is somewhat similar to that of greenhorns in modern parlance.”

During his stay in Mexico, Wise tells us, he was mocked for being a gringo; an inexperienced, naive, and easily ridiculed outsider.

According to legend, gringo comes from the phrase “Green, go!” with two main variations. One theory suggests that since American soldiers wore green uniforms (except they actually wore blue), Mexicans shouted this phrase during the military occupation of their country. Another claim is that “green” referred to U.S. dollars, though this explanation quickly falls apart because dollar bills as known today did not exist in the 1840s.

Furthermore, the word had already appeared in newspapers and books before Wise’s account. In 1825, two decades before the Mexican-American war, an article in a London newspaper called The Morning Chronicle reported on turmoil in newly independent Mexico. The piece described how protesters in the streets shouted:

“Death to the gringos who plunder us, and luck to the gachupines (Spaniards) who always treated us like brethren!”

Barely four years after their declaration of Independence from Spain, Mexicans had apparently changed their minds about their former colonial rulers. But in this early reference, gringo didn’t actually refer to Americans, it referred to the British.

Spain, the French, and the Origins of Gringo

Despite this early Mexican usage, evidence proves that Latin Americans did not actually invent the term gringo. In another article from the same London newspaper, discussing anti-French sentiment in Spain during the French invasion of 1823, Spaniards referred to the invading soldiers as gringos:

“Those terms of opprobrium, such as gabacho, gringos, feotas, etc., by which the French were denominated in the time of Napoleon’s invasion (1808), are being applied to them.”

Further, the term appears in even older sources. A Spanish dictionary published in 1787 explains:

“Gringos is the name given in Malaga to foreigners who have a certain type of accent that prevents them from easily and naturally pronouncing Castellano [Spanish].”

Given Málaga’s long history under Islamic rule, is it possible that gringo has deeper roots? Could a word like “gharīb” (pronounced “greeb” with a rolled “r”), meaning “stranger” or “foreigner” in Arabic, have evolved into a similar-sounding term in Andalusian Spanish?

Another interesting suggestion is that gringo derives from griego (Spanish for “Greek”). In much the same way that Romans referred to incomprehensible languages as barbarian, Spaniards may have called anything unintelligible to them “Greek.” This characterization survives today in the Spanish expression “Esto me suena a griego” (“Sounds Greek to me,” nearly matching the English idiom “It’s all Greek to me”).

But, how then did “griego” become gringo? One possibility (this author’s particular theory) is that it resulted from a typographical error. I’ve found a few cases where 18th- and 19th-century newspapers wrote gringo when they clearly meant griego, for example, when referring to Greek philosophers. Could gringo have originated from a printing mistake?

Of course, these theories have their limitations. For instance, to 18th-century Spaniards, the French language was not so incomprehensible as to call them “Greek.” However, as far as etymology goes, these remain the most plausible explanations.

Literature, Cinema, and the Cultural Weight of Gringo

A word of caution: the word gringo can be offensive in certain contexts, especially in Mexico, where people stubbornly refuse to call U.S. citizens Americanos, arguing that “America” and “Americans” originally referred to the entire continent and their inhabitants, which is true.

However, gringo has been used so freely in literature and film that it has largely lost its sting. The laureate Mexican writer Carlos Fuentes titled one of his novels Gringo Viejo (“The Old Gringo”), and Ennio Morricone produced the song A Gringo Like Me, a proud cowboy anthem, for the 1963 Western film Duello nel Texas.

“Every man is a liar.
There’s just one kind of man who tells the truth,
that’s a dead man, or a Gringo like me.”

A Word That Still Resonates

Though its true origins remain in question, it’s clear that what began in 18th-century Spain as a neutral term for someone with an odd accent became, in the 19th century, a pejorative label for a foreign white invader. By the 20th century, it had come to mean simply “American,” though it’s also worth noting that in modern Latin American usage, gringo specifically applies to white people born in the US.

Today, the word carries a wealth of cultural meaning.

As Harry Foster wrote in A Gringo in Mañana-Land (1924):

“The term gringo, a word of vague origin, once applied with contempt to the American in Mexico, is now used throughout Latin America, without its former opprobrium, to describe any foreigner.”

Words change over time, and gringo is no exception. It can amuse, offend, or simply describe, depending on who says it and how. In some contexts, it carries an air of casual familiarity, while in others, it is sharpened into an insult. Sometimes, it is used with irony or endearment, and other times, it reflects deep-seated historical tensions.

Regardless of its intent, the word has embedded itself in the cultural lexicon, acquiring new shades of meaning with each passing generation. Like the Spanish language that created and reinvented it, gringo is a story in motion, a term that changes faces with the times, a mix of prejudice and affection, a spark for legends, and, like any well-told tale, it never stops reinventing itself.

Water is the fundamental element that nourishes the Amazon rainforest. Its rivers are a source of both life and the sacred for the people who live there. The Amazon River and its tributaries are home to the green anaconda, the largest snake in the world. They can reach as long as 30 feet (9 meters) and weigh upwards of 550 pounds (250 kg). Many indigenous communities have incorporated it into their cosmological and mythical stories. Aside from the jaguar, the green anaconda is the animal with the greatest cultural significance among the communities that have historically inhabited the Amazon rainforest.

Making a Myth: Why the Green Anaconda?

Different mythical stories about the green anaconda can be found in different locations in the Amazon rainforest. Indigenous communities have associated the curving and bending course of the Amazon River with the curling body of the anaconda. In mythical stories and cosmogonic structures, anacondas have been associated with creating the world and humankind, celestial phenomena, and cultural life surrounding water in the tropical rainforest.

In the northwest sector of the forest, specifically in the Colombian region of Vaupés, indigenous communities believe that an ancestral anaconda was the creator of life’s cultural and social order. The anaconda, journeying the Amazon River, gave birth to all the communities inhabiting the rivers and tributaries throughout the rainforest. The ancestral anaconda created space and time and distributed the communities along the river, teaching them distinctive cultural practices, languages, and beliefs.

The Ancestral Anaconda of the Amazon

A broader anaconda myth explains how an ancestral anaconda was involved in the creation of the universe. The snake started a journey through the waters of the Amazon River. It began from the Water Doors in the east, called the Lake of Milk, and heading towards the Vaupés region in the west, “the center of the world.”

The great snake was believed to be at once an animal and a canoe, on which all the original human communities embarked. During the creation journey, the anaconda-canoe would emerge from the depths of the waters to the surface to leave ancestral human communities alongside the banks of the river. In some variations of the myth, these were distinct groups of people, including both indigenous peoples and Europeans, demonstrating their historical contact with these communities.

Ancient Pictographs

Ancient pictographs have been found in the Serranía del Chiribiquete, a mountainous region in the Colombian Amazon rainforest. The anthropologist Castaño-Uribe has described the pictographs as representing anaconda-canoes over which human beings stand and raise their hands to the sky. This suggests shamanistic practices and veneration of the anaconda.

The myth of the ancestral anaconda varies depending on each community’s linguistic or cultural distinctions. Anthropologist Stephen Hugh-Jones referenced this phenomenon of narrative heterogeneity, describing the myth of the anaconda as a tree with several branches due to the different versions that he found had been recorded.

Brazilian Traditions

The Desana community in the eastern Amazon rainforest of Brazil describes a boat that was simultaneously a great cobra, or the “grandfather of the world.” Traveling upriver, it stopped at houses next to the waters, leaving entire communities free to enter the houses and perform the first ritualistic ceremonies necessary to settle down and start their social and cultural life.

In the same community, anthropologist Gerardo Reichel-Dolmatoff added that the anaconda-canoe was used by the creator god, the Sun, to send people to the Earth. This story demonstrates a sexual association with the anaconda, as it is also considered the uterus where humans were conceived.

Among the Tukano people, the ancestral anaconda has a double association. It has a terrestrial link to the Amazon River and a supernatural link associated with the Milky Way. The clear sediment left by the Amazon River during the rainy season and the white liquid that seeps from some hallucinogenic plants are associated with the primordial insemination liquids in the story of humankind’s creation.

Mythical stories from other communities associate the anaconda with musical instruments, ceramics, healing rituals, and prevalent and popular dualisms of female-male, day-night, or Sun-Moon.

Additional Anaconda Myths

In addition to this story about the origins of the indigenous communities and the world’s creation, mythical associations with the anaconda are found in other regions, specifically in the Peruvian part of the Amazon. This region is home to the Shipibo-Conibo, Ashanika, and Aguaruna peoples. Here, a dangerous mythical anaconda, Yakumama, guards and protects the waters of the Amazon River.

The name Yakumama comes from the Quechua words yaku (agua) and mama (mother), meaning the Mother of Water. The mythical story claims that a giant anaconda used to live undisturbed by humankind. One day, in a time when the rainforest existed in complete harmony, the anaconda was disturbed by a fisherman. Due to the man’s unwelcome presence, Yakumama created a whirlpool from which it emerged, putting the boat and the fisherman in immense danger.

Desperate, the man prayed to Inti, the sun god, and asked for help. Eventually, the man managed to flee toward Lake Titicaca, where he could finally escape the dangers of the unexpected encounter.

Other communities tell a different story, narrating how a subtle whipping sound used to be heard coming from the deep waters. Once, a young warrior from the community, Yahu, went downriver to ask Yakumama the reason for its sorrow. The great snake responded that the lament was because future generations were not going to respect and protect the rainforest. Yahu then decides to join Yakumama and work together to protect the jungle, teaching communities to maintain the balance between all beings inhabiting the forest.

Water is Life: The Centrality of the Amazon River

Amazonian myths and legends and firmly anchored in the veneration of nature and the protection of natural balance. The myth of Yacumama talks about the respect that must be paid to the forest and all living beings that are part of it. The anaconda is the silent power that protects the natural equilibrium of the forest and should not be disturbed.

Entities from nature also explain how the unique cultural identity of the region came into being. In the myth of the ancestral anaconda, the order in which the communities descended from the snake corresponds to the hierarchical distribution between different people that defines how communities see each other to this day. This ensures a correct system of social, economic, and even kinship exchange between different communities.

Although individual cultural and geographical aspects create variation between myths, they share a common root. They describe the geen anaconda’s power as one of the most prominent, feared, and respected animals in the rainforest.

Selected Sources:

• Guida Navarro, Alexandre. (2021). “La anaconda como serpiente-canoa: mito y chamanismo en la Amazonía Oriental, Brasil.” Boletín de Antropología Vol. 36 No. 61 January-June 2021.
• Cayón, L. (2013). Pienso, luego creo: La teoría makuna del mundo. ICANH. Bogotá.

Scattered across the Peruvian Andes are architectural marvels that defy explanation. The Inca, masters of stone and landscape, engineered structures so advanced that they have survived for centuries.

Their iconic masonry—massive, mortarless blocks shaped with stunning precision—is a testament to the power of the largest pre-Columbian empire in the Americas. From world-renowned citadels to remote jungle ruins, here are six must-see sites that reveal the incredible story of Inca architecture.

Quick Guide to the Marvels of Inca Architecture

1. Machu Picchu

Machu Picchu tops every list of must-see sites in the former Inca Empire. Indeed, there is no better place to be completely enchanted by the Inca’s mastery of stone masonry, their coexistence with their natural environment, and their relationship with their gods and spirits.

Most modern scholars believe Machu Picchu was built as an estate for Sapa Inca Pachucuti in the mid-15th century, and was actually called Huayna Picchu by the Inca themselves. Declared a UNESCO World Heritage site in 1983, many of its outbuildings, constructed of field stone, had crumbled and have since been reconstructed. Its larger buildings and temples, showcasing the Inca’s expert stone masonry, remained intact, as did many of the farming terraces.

Machu Picchu is nestled in the valley between two enormous mountains, often shrouded by low clouds in the morning, adding to its air of mystery. Its buildings blend neatly into the surroundings, with features like the Temple of the Condor built directly into the rocky terrain.

The Inca’s precision stone masonry, with large stone blocks fit together seamlessly using no mortar, as well as more subtle features of their architecture, like trapezoidal doors and windows, can be seen throughout the site. It also boasts an intihuatana stone, a rock sculpture that researchers believe the Inca used for astronomical purposes. It aligns perfectly with the sun at the solstices and likely had spiritual significance as well, connected to the worship of the sun god Inti.

2. Sacsayhuamán

Sacsayhuamán served as a fortress during the Spanish invasion. It overlooks the ancient Inca capital, Cusco, and is surrounded by a zigzagging wall of precision-cut stone. Much of the site’s architecture was dismantled after the Spanish conquest, with colonizers repurposing the stone for their projects. What remains, however, is still impressive. It showcases the Inca’s renowned precision stone masonry, with some impressively large stone blocks thought to weigh over 150 tons.

While the site’s foundations were largely built into the existing rock, no one knows how the Inca managed to transport the enormous stone blocks there. According to Spanish chronicler Pedro Cieza de Leon, 20,000 men worked on the site, transporting the blocks with sturdy ropes.

Sacsayhuamán was commissioned by Pachacuti, though it had been in use earlier by the Killke culture. Its distinctive zigzag shape is thought by some scholars to represent the head of a puma, a sacred animal in Inca mythology. Housing a temple to the sun, it was used for religious and ceremonial purposes in addition to offering protection for thousands should Cusco come under siege. After the Spanish took hold of Cusco, Sacsayhuamán served as a base for Sapa Inca Manco Capac as he fought to regain control.

A particularly distinctive feature of Sacsayhuamán is the rodadero, in Spanish, or suchuna, in Quechua, both meaning “slide.” A natural rock formation incorporated into the site, these grooved and polished rock slides are zipped along by tourists today—and according to Garcilaso de la Vega, a 16th-century chronicler, they were used by the Inca Empire’s children for the same purpose 500 years ago. The site also hosts the annual Inti Raymi festival, a reenactment of the Inca’s winter solstice celebration.

3. Qorikancha

When the gold-hungry Spanish invaders reached Cusco, they were no doubt delighted to lay eyes on Qorikancha. This complex included the empire’s most significant temple to the sun god Inti.

Inti’s temple had gold-plated walls, golden ornamentation throughout, and an adjoining garden full of gold animal statues. The gold was ultimately stripped, possibly to ransom Atahualpa, whom the Spanish killed anyway. Most of the stone was dismantled and repurposed for new Spanish constructions, and the Convent of Santo Domingo was built atop what remained.

What remains, however, showcases the Inca’s impeccable stonework and provides a unique example of an ancient temple. From the outside, the massive stone blocks that now serve as the foundation of the convent can be observed—they have remained standing for centuries, while the convent on top has had to be rebuilt multiple times after earthquakes.

Inside, several original rooms remain and have been turned into a museum featuring many relics found during excavations at the site, including mummies. In addition to these artifacts, visitors can appreciate some of the unique elements of Inca architecture, including trapezoidal doorways and niches likely used to display the golden decorations the Spanish so coveted.

4. Ollantaytambo

In what is today referred to as the Sacred Valley, the Inca conquered a number of smaller cultures and established thriving estates at key sites to control the valley.

Ollantaytambo is believed to have been occupied by the Huari for several hundred years before the dramatic expansion of the Inca Empire began. Here, the Sapa Inca built a personal estate and began constructing a temple complex. During the conquest, Ollantaytambo acted as an important stronghold for Manco Capac, who, according to Spanish sources, amassed a large army and fought back against the Spanish advance, employing a clever tactic to flood the plain below and mire the Spanish horses in mud.

Nestled between towering mountain peaks, the Ollantaytambo complex features the Inca’s reinforced terraces and a mix of finished and unfinished structures. Carved stone blocks are scattered around the base. Some are mostly untouched, while others are intricately carved into precise shapes with double jambs, suggesting further construction was underway when the site was abandoned.

A climb to the top of the steep terraces reveals the incomplete Temple of the Sun and the Wall of the Six Monoliths. Enormous stone blocks standing over twelve feet tall are fitted precisely together, with no indication of how the Inca managed to get them up there. The view from the top gives visitors a peek at the famous qullqas, storehouses built into the sides of the mountains. These once appeared all over the empire along the Qhapaq Nan.

5. Raqch’i

Raqch’i is located about 70 miles south of Cusco. It was occupied by pre-Inca cultures, including the Wari, before being taken over by the Inca. The god Viracocha, a creator god worshiped by a number of pre-Inca cultures, was said to have performed a miracle here. He led his people, the Canas, to create a shrine, or huaca, to him.

When Sapa Inca Huayna Capac, the last true Sapa Inca who ruled just prior to the Spanish conquest, saw the shrine and heard the story of the god’s miracle, he decided a more impressive dedication was needed. He began construction of a temple and housing for religious figures, such as priests and nuns (called mamacona and yanacona).

What remains of this temple is a 45-foot-high central wall. It stands in sharp contrast to other important Inca sites in its use of both stone blocks and adobe. Precision-shaped stones form a sturdy base for the adobe bricks, with both sections of the wall featuring the Inca’s distinct trapezoidal doors and windows.

The remains of cylindrical columns that once supported the temple, their sturdy stone bases, can also be seen. The height of the wall is particularly noteworthy because most Inca constructions were only one story. This height may have made it one of the tallest buildings in the empire.

Other structural remains in the area include round qullqas. These are noteworthy because they are not made in the traditional Inca shape or style. Researchers suggest they may have remained from an earlier culture and were perhaps repurposed when the temple project began.

6. Choquequirao

Choquequirao, meaning “cradle of gold” in Quechua, was integral to coca cultivation, a much-maligned plant sacred to the Inca. It may have also provided refuge to the Inca resistance during the conquest. Because of its remote location, it remained “lost” for centuries, and excavations have barely scratched the surface of what archeologists believe lies beneath the dense vegetation—excavations began in the 1970s, and an estimated 30% has been uncovered.

What can be seen so far—by those willing to make the multi-day trek, as there is no road or rail access—includes temples, residences, extensive terraces, and Sunch’u Pata, a flattened hilltop ringed with stones that likely served as a ceremonial center. The materials used differ from those at Machu Picchu, ultimately impacting the architecture. In the area, a more fragile rock could not be shaped into the large stone blocks seen elsewhere in the empire.

One of the truly unique features of Choquequirao is its rock art—a whimsical contrast to the Inca’s typical staid stone structures. The site’s terraces have a series of parading camelids (llamas, alpacas, or vicuñas, all native to the region and very similar looking) built into them. Some scholars suggest that this indicates workers from the Chachapoya culture were involved in the site’s construction, as this style of rock art was unique to them during that period. A white quartzite stone was used for this rock art, making it not only stand out but also reflect the morning sun, shining back at the Inca’s most important god.

When the Spanish arrived in Tenochtitlan, the Aztec were ruled by Motecuhzoma Xocoyotzin, better and less accurately known as Moctezuma II, the powerful huey tlatoani who had expanded the empire to its greatest extent. Chroniclers marveled at his many wives, lesser wives and concubines, as well as his numerous children, with one claiming he had at least 100. History recorded just a few, however, including two sons who died during the conquest and one legitimate daughter, often called the last Aztec princess: Isabel.

The Favorite Daughter

Little is known for certain about Isabel’s life before the arrival of the Spanish colonizers. Her birth year, which of Moctezuma’s many wives was her mother, or even the correct translation of her Nahuatl name, are unknown. Some contemporary records and documents kept by the Spanish give her birth year as 1510, which would have made her just 9 years old at the time the conquest began in 1519, and when she first married. Others describe her as a maiden, suggesting she was not a child but a girl of marriageable age, while still others indicate she was born before Moctezuma became huey tlatoani, which occurred in 1503, making her a young adult when Hernán Cortés and his contingent of conquistadors arrived.

Contemporary accounts are equally unclear about her lineage, with some suggesting she was the daughter of Moctezuma’s first wife and others indicating she was born of one of his secondary wives. Marriages were often undertaken to cement alliances with neighboring groups, while marrying within family groups to preserve the noble or semi-divine bloodline was also common, ultimately making either wife an equally likely candidate for a child considered his heir. The ruler also had many concubines, though records do seem to agree that Isabel was not the result of any of those unions; some half-siblings who would later come to challenge her status as Moctezuma’s heir were.

Some recollections of Indigenous servants in the palace that were recorded by the Spanish decades after the conquest indicate that Isabel was Moctezuma’s “favorite” daughter, and at the very least she seems to have been the oldest of his legitimate children. However, no evidence exists of the relationship, preferential or otherwise, that the father and daughter had. Prior to the conquest, Isabel was reportedly married off to the son of Ahuitzotl, the huey tlatoani who preceded Moctezuma, which might indicate she was considered valuable enough to help cement her father’s accession to the throne. When her husband died in 1520, so too did the first of six marriages she would undertake in her lifetime.

The Dowager Princess

Spanish chronicles report that when Cortés arrived in Tenochtitlan, Moctezuma offered him several of his daughters, including Isabel. This was generally considered an act of good faith, designed to show peaceful intentions, though whether they were offered as wives, concubines or hostages is unclear. Isabel remained in the palace with her father during his captivity. As relations between the powers deteriorated and the Spanish ultimately attempted to flee the city after Moctezuma’s death, on what became known as the Noche Triste, Cortés escaped with Isabel, but she later slipped free and returned to her people. Some Spanish accounts also claim that Moctezuma specifically asked Cortés to protect his daughters as he lay dying, but of course, there is no way to confirm this version of the events.

Though Moctezuma is widely considered the last true Aztec emperor, he was in fact succeeded by two Mexica leaders as the conquest raged. Neither ruled for very long, nor wielded much power in a rapidly crumbling empire, but they became Isabel’s second and third husbands, each marriage ending in death.

First was Cuitláhuac, her uncle, crowned huey tlatoani after Moctezuma’s death. He lived only a few months, felled by smallpox or another European disease that was sweeping through the capital. Isabel was then married to his successor and her cousin, Cuauhtémoc, who continued the increasingly futile battle against the Spanish until Tenochtitlan fell in 1521. Though Isabel and her husband attempted to escape, they were captured and Cuauhtémoc was ultimately executed in 1525. He was Isabel’s last Mexica husband.

Perpetual Widow

With the fall and ultimate destruction of Tenochtitlan, Isabel was at the mercy of the Spanish who, perhaps surprisingly, maintained some level of respect for the remaining nobility. Though, with most of the men killed in battle or later executed, the nobility were largely women and children who may have been seen as little threat. Scholars also argue that establishing alliances with remaining nobility aided in pacifying, and Christianizing, the conquered peoples, giving the colonial government a veil of legitimacy.

Isabel remained Cortés’s ward, or perhaps captive, for a period, during which she converted to Christianity and adopted her new Spanish name. Whether any of this was voluntary is unknown but she was described later in life as a very pious woman in various Spanish accounts. By 1528, Cortés had arranged yet another marriage for Isabel, this time with a Spaniard. She was also granted a generous “dowry”: an encomienda as part of Spain’s system of almost-slavery for their new Indigenous subjects. Encomiendas were land grants that included a number of Indigenous vassals who provided tribute and labor to their encomenderos in exchange for Christianization and “protection.” Isabel’s encomienda, Tacuba (once Tlacopan), was one of the largest in the region, presumably in tacit recognition of her status as Moctezuma’s legitimate heir. Some scholars theorize her grant was also large to discourage her from seeking any additional property that she would technically be due under Spanish law.

When Isabel’s fourth husband died after less than a year of marriage, Cortés brought her back into his own household and shortly thereafter she became pregnant with his child. She gave birth to his daughter in 1528. Whether their relationship was consensual is unknown, but, perhaps tellingly, Isabel refused to recognize Leonor, who was given to another Spanish family to raise. Isabel and the next Spanish husband Cortés arranged for her finally produced a legitimate heir around 1530. The event was reportedly widely celebrated, but joy was short lived; husband number five died the same year.

Encomendera

Isabel now found herself a widow yet again, this time with a child. She also found herself constantly defending her encomienda against covetous conquistadors and even her half-siblings who repeatedly brought legal challenges to her ownership, while being unable to represent herself in court because she was both a woman and Indigenous.

However, with her royal lineage and, perhaps most importantly, the significant parcel of territory she had largely managed to retain despite these many challenges, Isabel was an attractive partner for New Spain’s bachelors. She soon married for the final time, presumably to a man of her own choosing. Juan Cano de Saavedra became her sixth and last husband in 1532 and by all accounts, he was not a friend of Cortés, having initially fought in an expedition against him before joining the battle for Tenochtitlan.

The pair went on to have five children and he, with better standing as both a man and a Spaniard, as well as being part of Spain’s lower nobility, fought rigorously to defend her inheritance. Together they also sought to have all the lands once owned by Moctezuma returned to her as his heir but were unsuccessful during her lifetime. After her death in 1550, Spanish courts finally recognized Isabel as Moctezuma’s sole surviving and legitimate heir but refused to restore the lands in question to her children, citing the difficulty of dispossessing their current owners.

In her will, Isabel freed all of the Indigenous vassals on her encomienda and provided them back pay, ensuring they had the means to live after the end of their servitude. Other elements of her will, including her desired division of assets among her children, specifically her daughters, were negated under Spanish law, which favored male heirs.

The Mother of Mestizaje

Beyond her many marriages and the ongoing controversy surrounding her encomienda, little is known about Isabel herself beyond general descriptions of her as kind and charitable. Her last husband once described her as “gifted in conversation” and “devoted to Catholicism” to a historian of the time, but any details of how she balanced her life as both an Indigenous and Spanish noblewoman, or how she felt about the unique challenges she faced in such a position have been lost to time.

Isabel’s ability to adapt to her new reality was essential to her self-preservation but has also earned her criticism from those who feel she betrayed her Indigenous heritage by submitting rather than fighting. Speaking of both the controversial La Malinche and Isabel Moctezuma, María Castañeda de la Paz, Spanish historian and researcher at the Universidad Autónoma de México argues: “…what they did was act in accordance with their times, they had children and established matrimonial alliances to secure political positions. But we should never see them as traitors: they simply followed the dictates of their fathers or husbands, as women had done throughout history.”

Like La Malinche, who also bore a child to Cortés, Isabel Moctezuma was a bridge between two worlds, uniting, however unwillingly, Indigenous and Spanish. Her unique position as heir to the huey tlatoani made her conversion to Catholicism and submission to Spanish rule particularly influential. Whether she hoped simply to save herself or to model for her people the only means of self-preservation available in the face of overwhelming Spanish force, we’ll never know.