An embellished representation of the coyag
With tension in the river valley rising, Governor Álvar Núñez Cabeza de Vaca was faced with a delicate balancing act. His efforts to promote Christian Mapuche had backfired rather spectacularly. Now there was a clique of colonists in Asuncion threatening his removal unless he reigned in his nominal allies. But the zealous converts did not see themselves as under his authority. They were armed to the teeth, and the sympathy of one of the few Dominicians in the region. And who knew where the vast masses of Mapuche who kept their old religion would fall if it came to blows? This was a situation that called for finesse.
There existed in the Mapuche tradition, something called a coyag. It was a great meeting of leaders, typically called in times of war. The man would meet in some place of note and discuss and debate who should lead and what they should do. The Spanish translated the term as “parliament” although it more resembled a diplomatic conference then any institution the Spanish recognized, a fact that Cabeza de Vaca would stumble over.
The trouble started with the summoning. First of all, if there was one thing that united all Mapuche, it was the belief that they were not being ruled by the Spanish. This was not some great national resistance, quite the opposite, very few had any idea that the Spanish were even claiming any sort of dominion. The Spaniards were simply the strange people who lived in the towns not some aspiring conquerors. So the fact that a Spaniard was trying to summon an assembly that he had no real authority to summon was shocking and quite infuriating to them. Then there was a method of summoning. Cabeza de Vaca had heard that a red arrow was used to summon a coyag, and so ordered them distributed. However, while it did serve to call a coyag, the main point of the red arrow was to call the Mapuche to war. Instantly the valley was thrown into a panic. Who was the enemy? Where were they? The Mapuche armed themselves, which sent the Spanish into a panic, and several armed clashes followed. Eventually word got around of the truth, but the damage had been done.
They gathered. The site selected was near Buen Ayre, further south and over a tributary to the Rio de la Plata[1]. Men from across the Pampas. There were a few Spaniards present, and none from the groups that had lived in the region for generations. It was the Mapuche who dominated, which was not unexpected.
Only about two thirds of the men Cabeza de Vaca had expected arrived in December 1555. The Outlying chiefs sent few, mostly being traditionalists who would not acknowledge his authority in the slightest. Those who did attend were now predisposed to oppose his initiatives. His attempts to impose some sort of European procedure on them failed miserably. The coyag granted the Spanish the hitherto unheard of right to participate in the proceedings as if they were Mapuche, but refused anything else. Religious ceremonies were those of the traditional Mapuche religion, only those already converted attended the blessing of the assembly Cabeza de Vaca had arranged. Lautaro and his merry band of converts attended, but did little to help the cause. He was distrusted by the traditionalists, and his actions were what had provoked the Spanish in the first place.
Suggestions that the assembled Mapuche submit to the authority of King Philip were laughed off universally. Cabeza de Vaca retreated and proposed that they simply accept him as their protector. This idea had some merit. The converts were aware they were a minority and thought perhaps that the move could afford them some security. However, despite Cabeza de Vaca’s warnings, other Spaniards pressed too far in demanding tribute and trade concessions. Many of the converts had done so for the closer ties it afforded them to the Spanish, and this fact caused many to withdraw their support. In any event, the non-Christians rejected the motion out of hand. At this point the traditionalists began to leave. They had been summoned illegally and under the false pretense of war. Now the Spanish were trying to impose their rule on all the Mapuche. They mounted their horses and left. This left the Christians. A rump assembly that could not command any authority. Cabeza de Vaca, acceding to the facts, old them to leave. They did, but not before dealing him one final embarrassment.
Bertrand delivered his messages to various sailors leaving the region
Louis Betrand had missed most of the coyag, traveling North to preach in the region on the other side of the river. But he returned just as the rump Christian coyag sat smoldering about the Spanish interference in the proceedings. A group of older chiefs were planning something, and they requested his aid.
With Betrand’s aid they wrote a letter to Pope Clement VIII. It criticized Cabeza de Vaca’s actions, and Spanish efforts to dominate their fellow Christians. It told the “Most Holy Father” of the honest faith present across the ocean, and how great work was being done there. The letter lamented the interference of the Spanish. “If the men of Spain did try to seize the lands of their Christian brothers in France, would he not intervene?”[2] They wrote. They formally asked the Pope to mediate between them and the Spanish to “preserve Christian brotherhood”. Betrand also wrote personal notes to the Papacy and the head of the Domincans, praising the faith of the Mapuche, although he was cautious to avoid any direct criticism of the Spanish. Betrand translated the document into Latin, and edited it to be a little less strident while doing so. Cabeza de Vaca was furious but his authority was spent. He would resign the governorship in February 1556 rather than await a recall from Spain, better to try and get ahead of the stream of complaints heading home.
It was a victory for the Mapuche, but it had cost them the Spaniard most willing to work with them. King Philip, although happy to hear that Catholicism was spreading abroad, was going to find someone far more committed to standing their ground.
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1: Near the banks of the Matanza river.
2: This is a bit of a sly move by Betrand. Clement is the former Ippolito II d'Este, and France’s biggest fan in Italy.