Artwork by Bowen Peng
Panel 3 of Piedras Negras which potentially explains the 10 year gap without recorded kings
Mural of Diego Rivera depicting the burning of Mayan Books
Studying history today, one may hear about the Spanish destruction of pre-Columbian art and history such as the Mayan Codices. And it goes as expected, the erasure of Indigenous cultures in the hands of European colonizers who looked to spread their influence and “Christianize” the New World, by getting rid of what they believed to be “savage” or “uncivilized” in the Native world.
However, fewer people will know about the destruction of art and history that occurred within the Mayan world itself. In the 8th century the king of the Pa’Chan kingdom, Itzamnaaj Bahlam brought great riches to the kingdom after a series of military campaigns. But when his son ascended his throne after his death there was a 10-year gap which did not record any existence of any king. As it would turn out, his son led a massive propaganda campaign in which he re-wrote much of the kingdom's dynastic history to claim legitimacy over the throne that saw much of Itzamnaaj’s records wiped from history.
Although it would be more fitting to classify these events as examples of Damnatio Memoriae, it nonetheless displays how the intentional destruction of art and history occurred in pre-Columbian America. As much as this type of destruction is tied to colonialism, we must also recognize that it was not fully introduced by the European colonizers with similar destruction has been observed in Ancient Mesopotamia, Greece, and the Hittites. Whether it is to show power or to ease envy, time and time in history the man in charge has been the man who destroys, it is almost an inherent instinct. The Western World often highlights its conquests of foreign lands, whether it is with pride or with guilt. But they often overlook the colonialist tendencies in our own culture. When the Romans conquered Carthage, they destroyed much of their art and archives and when the Romans themselves were ransacked by the Vandals, they saw the same events unfold to their own art, hence the word “Vandalism”. These ongoing cycles of conquering and destroying continued for thousands of years before finally being broken by the Enlightenment.
For the first time, museums became popular, which meant that rather than destroying the art of those who were conquered, they could take it back home. We can put it on display like a trophy case, reminding us of all the interesting people and cultures we have absorbed along the way. Nowadays, there is a lot of controversy surrounding this practice, as it embodies the aspects of modern colonialism. But the least we can say is that at least the artifacts are intact. It is just a shame that these sentiments did not become mainstream until the last 500 years of human history.
We are lucky that the three Mayan codices remaining today were only dug up in the 19th century. Had they been discovered during the Age of Exploration, they would have been destroyed like every other codex there was. Today, looking at the Madrid Codex in the Museo de America one may be angered by the destructive history of the Spanish or the colonialist sentiments that emanate from its location. But, we must also thank them, for at least today, it is behind temperature temperature-controlled glass panels and not a pile of ash embedded into the soil of the Yucatan. It is a paradox that stems from this sudden change in the perspective of preservation and conservation within the Western World.
The Madrid Codex at the Museo de las Americas in Madrid