Aztec kings had rules for plagues: ‘Do not be a fool’
Every civilization eventually faces a crisis that forces it to adapt or be destroyed. Few adapt.
On July 10, 1520, Aztec forces vanquished the Spanish conquistador Hernán Cortés and his men, driving them from Tenochtitlan, capital of the Aztec empire. The Spanish more than deserved the routing they got, and the conflict should have ended then. But by September, an unexpected ally of the would-be conquerors had reached the city: the variola virus, which causes smallpox.
The Aztecs were no strangers to plagues. Among the speeches recorded in their rhetoric and moral philosophy, we find a warning to new kings:
“Sickness will arrive during your time. How will it be when the city becomes, is made, a place of desolation? ...
“Do not be a fool. Do not rush your words, do not interrupt or confuse people. Instead find, grasp, arrive at the truth. Make no one weep. Cause no sadness. Injure no one. Do not show rage or frighten folks. Do not create a scandal or speak with vanity. Do not ridicule. For vain words and mockery are no longer your office. Never, of your own will, make yourself less, diminished. Bring no scorn upon the nation, its leadership, the government.”
“Retract your teeth and claws. Gladden your people. Unite them, humor them, please them. Make your nation happy. Help each find their proper place. That way you’ll be esteemed, renowned. And when our Lord extinguishes you, the old ones will weep and sigh.”
If a king’s rule caused more suffering than it abated, then the people prayed to Tezcatlipoca for consequences:
“Perhaps he [the bad ruler] will experience what the common folk do: suffering, anguish, lack of food and clothing. And perhaps you will give him the greatest punishments: paralysis, blindness, rotting infection.
“Or will he instead soon depart this world? ... Maybe he will meet the Lord of Death, Mictlanteuctli, mother and father of us all.”
The Aztecs believed their principal collective tool for fending off epidemics was a humble appeal to Tezcatlipoca. The very first speech of their text of rhetoric and moral philosophy was a supplication to destroy plague. The desperate Aztecs tried to get their powerful god to consider the worst-case outcome of his vengeance:
“O Master, how in truth can your heart desire this? ...
“Will your anger never be reversed? Will you look no more upon the common folk? For — ah! — this plague is destroying them! Darkness has fallen! Let this be enough. Stop amusing yourself, O Master, O Lord. Let the earth be at rest! I fall before you. I throw myself before you, casting myself into the place from which no one rises, the place of terror and fear, crying out: O Master, perform your office … do your job!”
How many times was this prayer repeated as smallpox ate its cruel way into Mexico? Smallpox arrived in Mesoamerica with a second wave of Spaniards who joined forces with Cortés. According to one account, they had with them an enslaved African man known as Francisco Eguía, who was suffering from smallpox.
Eguía died in the care of Totonac people near Veracruz. His caretakers became infected. Smallpox spreads easily: not only blood and saliva, but also skinto-skin contact (handshakes, hugs) and airborne respiratory droplets. It raced through a population with no herd immunity at all: along the coast, over the mountains, across the waters of Lake Texcoco, into the very heart of the populous empire.
The epidemic lasted 70 days in the city of Tenochtitlan. It killed 40 percent of the inhabitants, including the emperor, Cuitlahuac.
On May 22, 1521 — just as Tenochtitlan was beginning to recover — Cortés returned, with more Spanish troops, and tens of thousands of Tlaxcaltecah warriors, the sworn enemies of the Aztecs. Smallpox had reached Tlaxcallan first, but its people — not as densely packed in urban areas like the Mexica — had fared better and were ready to finish off their rivals. After a three-month siege, the capital fell.
Without the smallpox, it’s much less likely Cortés and his allies could have taken Tenochtitlan. The epidemic exposed the city’s need to import essential goods along causeways that could be destroyed to cut the isle off from the world. The Aztecs were brilliant engineers, but no one thought to isolate the infected, or to confine the healthy to keep them safe.
Without innovative ways to slow it, smallpox helped invaders bring down an empire. That’s the power of novel viruses, proven time and again. We would do well to learn the lesson.
Bowles is an author, translator and associate professor of Literatures and Cultural Studies at the University of Texas Rio Grande Valley. His most recent book is “They Call Me Güero: A Border Kid’s Poems.” He translated the Nahuatl texts in this article. He wrote this for Zócalo Public Square.