Resistance in 15th-Century Mesoamerica
In my novel of historical fiction The Prince & the Coyote, I show the exiled crown prince of Tetzcoco grappling philosophically with his duties toward loyalists among his people, who have been driven from their homeland by an enemy regime that killed his father and installed a puppet tyrant.
The prince — Acolmiztli — has been raised within the Acolhuahcayotl, the Acolhua Way, the civilized lifestyle prevalent in Acolhuacan, the federation of city states on the eastern bank of Moon Lake (later known as Lake Tetzcoco) which his father once governed as Overlord (Acolhuateuctli).
But when the empire on the western bank — Tepanecapan — invades Acolhuacan in 1418, the prince goes on the run with his father … until imperial forces catch up to them and assassinate the king. Then Acolmiztli must retreat into treacherous mountains, faking his death to put the empire off his trail.
On the verge of starvation upon the peaks of dormant volcano Iztaccihuatl, Acolmiztli encounters a female coyote who shares her scavenged food with him. From her he learns the art of animal survival. Coyoyotl. The Coyote Way. It keeps him alive through the harsh winter.
When in spring he descends at last, it’s with a new name.
Nezahualcoyotl.
Most idiomatically translated “Fasting Coyote,” the moniker literally means “coyote with a fasting collar” (a nezahualli or white paper band worn around the neck by people abstaining for religious reasons).
Now comes a difficult decision for the teenage prince. Does he accept his fate and let Tepanecapan control Acolhuacan, or does he find a way to retaliate and take back his homeland?
Nezahualcoyotl is the most famous poet of the Americas. Tradition affirms he wrote a grieving song during this year in his adolescence (one of many that were preserved). “I should never have emerged,” he declares. “Better I had never been born.” He chafes at having to bend the knee.
“Indeed, I shall go rising in the world
toward that throne, my birthright.
But I suffer, and my heart will ache,
my friend, for it is hard to walk here
on this slippery Earth.”
You can read my translation of the whole poem here.
Before he can even begin the path toward retaking his father’s throne, the princeis tempted to turn his back on duty and revenge. Posing as a displaced minor noble seeking refuge, he works as a farmer and falls in love with Sekalli, a commoner who urges him to build a life with her and forget about Acolhuacan.¹
This path forward — Tecpanyotl or the Way of Order — appeals to the prince because he is a musician and aspiring architect / engineer (he will one day build amazing aqueducts and dykes, among other marvels). He has no appetite for death and destruction. For a time, he wavers.
Ultimately, his responsibilities to his people and his hatred of his bastard half-brother Yancuilli, the king installed by the empire, win out. After checking in with refugee camps in neighboring city-states, he goes undercover in the Chalcan army to learn to fight and lead better under Prince Quetzalmazatl.
When the Chalcan prince discovers Nezahualcoyotl’s true identity, he urges him to embrace warfare and destruction as the best path forward — Chalancayotl or the Way of Chaos. “Fast no more,” he insists. “Glut on their blood.” But doing so seems to mean abandoning creation and order.
And that’s when the xochihuah (something akin to AMAB non-binary or trans woman) Izcalloh, the prince’s long-time mentor, friend, and eventually lover, points out that he doesn’t have to — cannot, in fact — choose. Instead, he must use EVERYTHING available to sustain his people.
(More below, after a longer excerpt.)
It’s what they (Izcalloh) call Omeyotl or the Way of Duality. And Nezahualcoyotl listens to this sage advice. He seeks the protection of his mother’s family in Tenochtitlan. She was Mexica, so to lure his uncles (the rulers) away from fealty to the empire, he agrees to adopt their customs.
By appearing to abandon his father’s Ahcolhuahcayotl for Mexicayotl (the Mexica Way), he gains access to resources that would have taken him decades to rally, if at all. He sets aside his resentment and biases and compromises to expand his alliance. And within six years, it happens.
He, will the aid of his uncles and allies, overthrows Tepanecapan. Retakes Tetzcoco. Founds the Triple Alliance of Anahuac (controlled by the city-states of Tenochtitlan, Tetzcoco, and Tlacopan).
Today we call that new regional power by a different name.
The Aztec Empire.
There are many lessons to be learned from Nezahualcoyotl. But today, I can’t stop thinking of these:
Do everything in your power to preserve the lives that intertwine to make your community. Use every tool you can. Every ally you can mostly trust. Every single tactic that has a solid chance of getting your people closer to true freedom. Be crafty and patient. When your enemy thinks you gone, strike with everything you have.
In the end, if you nonetheless lose, make it cost them dearly.
There’s thunder in your heart. May it peal so loud it chills their very blood.
If you find Nezahualcoyotl as fascinating as I do, definitely check out The Prince & the Coyote.
I promise you won’t be disappointed.
(Existe una versión en español, también.)
Notes
- The screenshots I’ve included above are in verse, but the novel is mostly prose, with translations of Nezahualcoyotl’s work interwoven, along with other poems that I wrote in his voice (and the voices of his companions).
