Smuggling Literature in the Spanish Colonial Empire
The Philippines, a Spanish colony, was a hub for forbidden books. Despite the Inquisition's efforts, clandestine literary circles flourished. Works on astrology, politics, and religion were smuggled in and circulated among the elite, defying the Church's authority.
In the vast and complex realm of the Spanish Empire, spanning continents and oceans, the control of knowledge was both a political imperative and a spiritual crusade. One of the most formidable institutions wielding this power was the Tribunal of the Inquisition of Mexico, an authority that, starting in 1571, extended its reach far beyond the Americas to the Audiencia of Manila. This oversight represented not only a geographical challenge but also a cultural clash in the policing of prohibited books—a task that had to navigate the social and cultural dynamics of the Spanish Crown’s overseas territories.
This complex topic was the focus of a panel at the 2nd Student Congress of the Inquisition in the Hispanic World, organized by Mexico’s Ministry of Culture and the National Institute of Anthropology and History (INAH). Scholars delved into the enforcement of censorship and the underground circulation of books in New Spain and the Philippine archipelago, shedding light on a lesser-known facet of colonial control.
During the second day of the congress at the National School of Anthropology and History (ENAH), researchers presented their studies on how censored texts—including books, oracles, and prints—circulated among the elite of New Spain and even reached far-flung locales like the Philippines. José Fernando Benítez Mondragón, a history student at the National Autonomous University of Mexico, highlighted a gap in contemporary research on the Philippine colony, which often prioritizes maritime and economic aspects over social and cultural dynamics.
The Philippines, an archipelago of over 7,000 islands under the administration of New Spain from 1565 to 1817, presented a unique challenge for the Inquisition. The sheer geographical spread and difficulty in accessing many islands meant that both ecclesiastical and civil authorities concentrated their efforts on urban centers, largely neglecting the hinterlands. In this diverse region, a melting pot of Asian, European, and indigenous influences, the Inquisition’s focus was primarily on the Spanish population—strategically important because the Philippines served as a vital port in the galleon trade and a gateway to mainland China and Japan.
Benítez Mondragón explained that by the 18th century, new ideological currents had infiltrated the colony, posing a threat to the Catholic orthodoxy guarded by the Inquisition. French Freemasonry, introduced from Dutch Borneo, and the Scottish Rite, a legacy of the British occupation of Manila between 1762 and 1764, had begun to spread through Philippine cities. This surge in heterodox ideas drew the scrutiny of the Mexican Inquisition, which maintained police stations across the four principal regions of the colony: Manila, Nueva Cáceres, Nueva Segovia, and Cebu.
The Reach and Overreach of the Inquisition
The Inquisition’s vigilance over prohibited literature often led to zealous actions by its commissioners. One notorious example occurred in November 1741 when Joan de Arechederra documented an inventory of burned books—half of which were devotional works in Spanish, and the other half political, historical, and literary texts in French. The zealousness of some commissioners led to excesses; Juan de Álvarez, another commissioner, ordered the destruction of 450 books in 1746, including 200 novenas written in Tagalog, an indigenous language of the Philippines. This action resulted in his reprimand and eventual dismissal, illustrating the delicate balance between enforcement and overreach.
Despite these draconian measures, the suppression of books inadvertently fostered underground literary circles in cities like Cavite and Manila. By the early 19th century, these circles included exiled New Spaniards, punished for their perceived disloyalty to the monarchy. One such figure was Epigmenio González, an insurgent from Querétaro, who was exiled to the Philippines for his involvement in revolutionary activities against the Spanish Crown.
The inquisitorial crackdown extended beyond political and philosophical texts to more esoteric works, such as the “Oráculo de los preguntones” (Oracle of the Questioners), a clandestine astrological device popular among the New Spanish elite in the 17th century. Karen Aylín López García, another participant in the congress, discussed this enigmatic text, which circulated anonymously and was steeped in the tradition of judicial astrology—a predictive art form that blurred the lines between science and superstition.
The “Oracle of the Questioners” was a complex, coded game consisting of 24 questions and 12 corresponding answers, put into verse and intended for clairvoyance. Scholars, including José Pascual Buxó, have speculated that the text may have been authored by Sor Juana Inés de la Cruz, the celebrated poet and intellectual of New Spain. Sor Juana, a court favorite with access to elite circles and a deep knowledge of rhetorical and astronomical concepts, is believed to have dabbled in such astrological musings.
Judicial astrology, distinct from the more empirical field of astronomy, focused on the interpretation of celestial events to predict earthly outcomes—a practice that Catholic authorities viewed as heretical. Beginning with the publication of Auger Ferrier’s Astronomical Judgments on Nativities in 1550, the field diverged sharply from mainstream astronomy and was increasingly categorized as dangerous to the Christian faith. Consequently, works like the “Oracle of the Questioners” circulated underground, shielded from the Inquisition’s gaze but nevertheless contributing to a vibrant, albeit covert, intellectual culture.
The Inquisition’s mission to control the flow of information across the Spanish Empire was fraught with challenges, especially in far-flung territories like the Philippines. Its attempts to police thought and suppress dissenting literature often met with resistance, both passive and active, as prohibited books continued to find eager readers among the literate elite. These clandestine literary exchanges and the underground survival of works like the “Oracle of the Questioners” reveal a society that, despite the Inquisition’s repressive measures, remained intellectually curious and resilient.
In the end, the Inquisition’s legacy in the Philippines and New Spain is a testament to the enduring power of the written word, even in the face of relentless censorship. The tribunals may have burned books and punished heretics, but the ideas contained within those banned volumes—political, philosophical, and astrological alike—found ways to persist, influencing the course of history in subtle yet profound ways. The shadows of this hidden knowledge continue to intrigue historians today, offering a complex portrait of an empire that, despite its might, could never fully silence the voices of its discontents.
