Aztec Warrior Quotes

...among the Aztecs, for example, who had a number of heavens to which people's souls would be assigned according to the conditions of their death, the heaven for warriors killed in battle was the same for mothers who died in childbirth. Giving birth is definitely a heroic deed, in that it is the giving over of oneself to the life of another.

The man’s words have landed on her face and she does – she looks like an Aztec warrior.

This was more than a pact; it was a true connection. Once she gave him this, she could not take it away. There should have been a selection process, a ceremony, the burning of copal. She was going at it wrong and she was too young to have a tlapalēhuiāni. The Aztecs did not consider a warrior a man until he had captured his first prisoner of war. Her people did not think a warrior was a woman until she had made an honorable kill or pleased the gods with her deeds. Youths had no business with a tlapalēhuiāni. Fuck it.

In contrast to most cultures’ nurturing, peaceful take on childbirth, Aztecs viewed labour as a war. Pregnant women were warriors, readied to take on a bloody battle by their sergeants-at-arms, midwives, who prepared them for motherhood in a series of sweat bath rituals. This acceptance of, and preparation for, the visceral process of childbirth was a realistic view – these mothers didn’t bring a child into the world smilingly and serene, they fought hard to keep the baby and themselves alive and healthy. Some historians have even argued that motherhood was established as the blueprint for bravery before Meso-American society required fighters. Women who died during childbirth were considered to be casualties of combat and honoured accordingly.

You know those short, brown-toned South American immigrants that pick your fruit, slaughter your meat, and bus your tables? Would you—a respectable person with a middle-class upbringing—ever consider going on a date with one of them? It's a rude question, because it affects to inquire into what everyone gets to know at the cost of forever leaving it unspoken. But if you were to put your unspoken thoughts into words, they might sound something like this: Not only are these people busing the tables, slaughtering the meat, and picking the fruit; they are the descendants of the people who bused the tables, slaughtered the meat, and picked the fruit of the Aztecs and Incas. The Spanish colonisers slaughtered or mixed their blood with the princes, priests, scholars, artisans, warriors, and beautiful women of the indigenous Americas, leaving untouched a class of Morlocks bred for good-natured servility and thus now tailor-made to the demands of an increasingly feudal postindustrial America. That's, by the way, part of the undertow of the immigration debate, the thing that makes an honest appraisal of the issue impossible, because you can never put anything right without first admitting you're in the wrong.

The native allies arrived in time, and Cortés then organized his troops for battle. I divided them and assigned them to three captains, each of whom with his division was to be stationed in one of three cities around Tenochtitlán. I made Pedro de Alvarado captain of one division and assigned him thirty horsemen, eighteen crossbow-men and gunners, and one hundred and fifty foot soldiers, and more than twenty-five thousand warriors of our allies. They were to make their headquarters at Tacuba. I made Cristóbal de Olid captain of another division . . . the division to make their headquarters in Coyoacán. Gonzalo de Sandoval was captain of the third division . . . This division was to go to Ixtapalapa and destroy it, then to advance over a causeway, protected by the ships, to join the garrison at Coyoacán. After I entered the lake with the ships, Sandoval would fix his headquarters where it suited him best. For the thirteen ships I left three hundred men, almost all of them sailors and well drilled, so that each ship had twenty-five Spaniards, and each of the small vessels had a captain, a pilot, and six crossbowmen and gunners. On May 10, Alvarado and Olid left Texcoco with their commands. The siege of Tenochtitlán was about to begin. It was to become the longest siege and one of the bloodiest battles in the history of the New World. At its end, an entire civilization would be destroyed and the largest city ever found by the conquistadors laid waste.

In the official story of the sixteenth-century conquest of Mexico, the one that all Mexicans learn at school, Mohtecutzoma, the tlahtoani, the spokesman and leader of the Aztecs, was a traitor who surrendered to the conquistadores from Spain without a fight and was killed by them. But the oral tradition of Mexico gives a different account, one in which the world of dreams is extremely important. According to this tradition, Mohtecutzoma was a master of the art of dreams and prophecies, as all governors and warriors were expected to be, and in a lucid and prophetic dream he saw the future of Mexico. He knew it would be conquered and a great mingling of races would take place — and there was nothing he could do about it. It was the dream of Centeotl, the creative principle of the universe. That was why he decided to give his land to its new owners without a fight, to avoid pain and bloodshed.

Yet another story, also spread by word of mouth, says that the immediate bloodline successor to the tlahtoani’s throne, Cuitlahuac, refused to obey the command to surrender and secretly ordered Mohtecutzoma’s assassination. As the tlahtoani, he then ordered the Mexihca and their allies to attack. There was only one battle, the Night of Sorrows, in which the conquistadores and their native allies were brutally defeated, and Hernán Cortez, leader of the Spanish army, was forced to retreat from Tenochtitlan, now known as Mexico City. It is said that he mourned the defeat under a tree. Nevertheless, Mohtecutzoma’s prophetic dream was destined to be fulfilled. The Spaniards were infected with smallpox, a disease that didn’t exist in Mexico at that time, and many of their corpses fell into the lagoon surrounding Tenochtitlan. The Aztec warriors washed their wounds in this water and were infected with the disease. Cuitlahuac was the first to die. Once all his men had followed him, the Aztecs were helpless — there were no more warriors who could save Mexico from its destiny. Tenochtitlan was left in the hands of a young tlahtoani, Cuauhtémoc, while the Spaniards and their allies regrouped and came back with a new army. After witnessing his predecessor’s dream come true, Cuauhtémoc spent this time not on defence but on hiding the treasure of Mexico. Ancient codices, together with a vast number of sacred stones, were buried at several sites, including Tula and Teotihuacan. Many of these treasures have not yet been found, but according to tradition some will come to light soon, and then the true story will be known.

In pursuit of this goal, the state curriculum encouraged teachers to lead their students in a series of indigenous songs, chants, and affirmations, including the “In Lak Ech Affirmation,” which appealed directly to the Aztec gods. Students clapped and chanted to the deity Tezkatlipoka—whom the Aztecs traditionally worshipped with human sacrifice and cannibalism—asking him for the power to become “warriors” for “social justice.” As the chant came to a climax, students performed a supplication for “liberation, transformation, [and] decolonization,” after which they asked the gods for the power of “critical consciousness.”30

In pursuit of this goal, the state curriculum encouraged teachers to lead their students in a series of indigenous songs, chants, and affirmations, including the “In Lak Ech Affirmation,” which appealed directly to the Aztec gods. Students clapped and chanted to the deity Tezkatlipoka—whom the Aztecs traditionally worshipped with human sacrifice and cannibalism—asking him for the power to become “warriors” for “social justice.” As the chant came to a climax, students performed a supplication for “liberation, transformation, [and] decolonization,” after which they asked the gods for the power of “critical consciousness.

The Story of the Volcano, An Aztec Myth Once upon a time there was a princess named Iztaccihuatl, more beautiful than any woman, and a handsome warrior Popocatepetl, who loved her. They were to be married, and all the kingdoms rejoiced...