No one expects The Spanish Inquistion!
The Truth behind the Myth
Nicholas Schofield FAITH Magazine January-February 2007
The Black Legend
We recall standing before a book store window on Maria-Hilfenstrasse in Viennain July 1939, when the Nazi propaganda was in high gear, and seeing the bloodcurdling display of posters and pictures of imaginary scenes from the Inquisition. “See there,” Goebbels was saying, “that is what will happen to you if we do not rescue you from the Church.” [The Truth About the Inquisition John A. O'Brien, 1950, Paulist Press, p.5]
Dark dungeons, hooded henchmen, terrible tortures and brutal burnings all constitute the traditional image of the Inquisition, neatly summing up for critics of the Church the repressive, sinister side of Catholicism. The ‘Black Legend’ of the Inquisition has existed for well over four hundred years, receiving an early manifesto in John Foxe’s Book of Martyrs and gaining a contemporary make-over in the famous Monty Python sketch, which, despite the tongue-in-cheek humour, presents the tribunal in terms of ‘fear, surprise, and ruthless efficiency...and an almost fanatical devotion to the Pope,’ making it an ever-present threat in society - ’no one expects the Spanish Inquisition.’
The Inquisition is regularly listed as an example of the Church’s violent and corrupt
past, often alongside that of the Crusades. In the aftermath of the Pope’s Regensburg
lecture in September 2006, Turkish journalist Abdulhamid Bilici argued that ‘the
church is trying to cover up its vicious acts which began with the Crusades, the
Inquisition, and continued with colonialism and fascist movements in modern times.’
Likewise, Sandeep Banerjee of the Times Of India suggested that ‘the Spanish
Inquisition could lay claim to being one of the bloodiest chapters of human history,
scripted by the Vatican’s Holy Office of the Inquisition, now called the Congregation
for the Doctrine of the Faith, an office the current Pope once headed before his
elevation.’
Understanding the Past
One of the most challenging tasks of a historian is to understand the mentalities of past ages, which so often seem completely alien to our own. The Inquisition was the product of a period when religious orthodoxy and unity were seen as paramount. It is hard for us to enter into this mindset, living as we do in the pluralistic twenty-first century, where religious liberty is widely accepted as a basic human right. It is crucial to remember that Church and State were inextricably linked up until the French Revolution. While faith today is treated as little more than a lifestyle option, in the past religious orthodoxy was equated with social order and security and thus became an important concern for any regime. Heresy was a crime that affected both Church and State and since the time of the Emperor Justinian (483-565) had had ecclesiastical and secular penalties.
Indeed the identification of religious heterodoxy with treason is not unique to the
Catholic Church. Plato held that a State had the duty of prosecuting those who dissented from the official religion. The Catholic historian,William Thomas Walsh, even placed Moses as the ‘first real inquisitor, as a Torquemada would have understood the word’ and referred to the Prophet’s first descent from Mount Sinai and the slaughter of 3,000 men who had indulged in idolatry around the Golden Calf. Moreover, from St Alban to St Thomas More, the Church’s martyrs have suffered because their beliefs were seen to threaten the political status quo.
Heresy comes from the Greek, heresies, which means
‘choice.’ Heretics had chosen to leave the One True Fold
and in doing so they threatened the religious, social,
cultural and political order. It was perfectly understandable
that the Inquisition should emerge from such a mentality
- to put a check on heresy, ensure orthodoxy and, strange
though it might seem, promote peace, security and unity.
Inquisitions
To avoid any confusion, we need to recognise that over the centuries there have been several ’Inquisitions’
in various parts of the Christian West, created to deal
with different crises. In a sense, every bishop is called
to be an ‘inquisitor,’ watching his flock for signs of ideas
and practices that go against the Faith, correcting and,
where necessary, cutting off. The first Inquisitions were
not centralised bodies, like those of later centuries, but
consisted of individual Inquisitors appointed by the Church
to investigate heresy in a particular area. Their first major
concern was with the dualist heresy of Catharism, which
was concentrated in southwestern France. It has been
estimated that in mid-thirteenth-century Languedoc about
1% of cases resulted in execution, 10% imprisonment
and the rest lesser penances. By the 1330s the heresy
had disappeared from the area. The fourteenth-century
Dominican Inquisitor, Bernard Gui, author of Practica
Inquisitionis is famously portrayed in the film version of
The Name of Rose as a bloodthirsty fanatic. However, he
condemned just forty-two heretics to death during his
fifteen years of office.
The Roman Inquisition was established by Paul III in
1542 (Licet ab initio) as a way of centralising the
various episcopal tribunals under the authority of the
Pope and pushing forward the Catholic Reformation,
with a special focus on combating Protestantism. The
Holy Office’s importance can be seen in the number of
its officials who went on to become Pope: its first head,
Gian Pietro Carafa (Paul IV), Michele Ghisleri (St Pius V),
Felice Peretti (Sixtus V) and Giovanni Antonio Fachinetti
(Blessed Innocent XI). Although it does not suffer from
as dark an image as the Spanish Inquisition, the Roman
Inquisition has often been criticised for condemning the
pantheism of Giordano Bruno (burned on the Campo
de’Fiori, Rome in 1600) and the heliocentric theories of
Galileo (condemned in 1632). It came very near to trying
Cardinal Pole (the last Catholic Archbishop of Canterbury)
and investigated Cardinal Morone (later a key figure in the
third session of the Council of Trent), both suspected of
Protestant sympathies. The Sacred Congregation of the
Roman and Universal Inquisition was renamed the Sacred
Congregation of the Holy Office in 1908, and, in 1965,
became the Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith,
aiming to ‘promote and safeguard the doctrine on faith and
morals throughout the Catholic world.’ Its former Prefect,
Benedict XVI, has, of course, often been referred to by his
critics as the ‘Grand Inquisitor’ who dared silence the likes
of Leonardo Boff, Tissa Balasuriya and Charles Curran.
It is also worth noting that from 1536 an Inquisition
existed in Portugal and its territories (including Goa and Brazil). Full discussions of these tribunals would require separate articles. Here we are concerned with a brief survey of the infamous Spanish Inquisition.
What was the Spanish Inquisition?
Ferdinand and Isabella founded the Spanish Inquisition in 1478 and it was eventually suppressed by the second Queen Isabella in 1834. The late fifteenth century had seen the effective union of the Christian kingdoms of Aragon and Castile, through the marriage of Ferdinand and Isabella, and the culmination of the reconquista, with the capture of the Islamic kingdom of Granada (1492). The Inquisition became a powerful instrument to ensure unity of faith, now that Christianity was triumphant, and also unity between Aragon and Castile, for it was the only institution that operated in both kingdoms.
Ferdinand and Isabella are called the ‘Catholic Monarchs’
and it was during their reign that Catholicism became
the dominant force in the Iberian peninsula. Medieval
Spain was characterised by the uneasy coexistence (or
convivencia) of Christianity, Judaism and Islam. It was
one of the few Western countries that had not expelled
the Jewish community - English critics of the Inquisition
forget that the Jews were expelled from this country
in 1290. Despite living in separate areas called aljamas
and being barred from public office, the Jews made an
important contribution to society, especially in the fields
of medicine, trade and banking. Indeed it was this wealth
and influence, together with their virtual escape from the
horror of the Black Death (partly due to their separate
aljamas), that caused rising anti-Semitism.
A Time of Tension, Fear and Unrest
Rumours regularly circulated that the Jews were poisoning wells, desecrating the Blessed Sacrament
or ritually crucifying Christian children. In 1391 roughly a
third of the Jews in Christian Spain were massacred and
a further third chose to convert to the Faith rather than
suffer further persecution. These became known as the
‘New Christians’ or conversos. Although many of these rose to high positions, tensions still remained, especially during times of crisis, and many suspected the conversos of secretly maintaining Jewish customs and beliefs and thus threatening the order of society.
This was the original concern of the Inquisition. Conversos
were investigated not so much for explicitly denying their
new creed, but for continuing Jewish practices, such as
reading Hebrew texts, marking the Sabbath and eating
unleavened bread. The first decades of the Inquisition
was its most brutal period and perhaps as many as
2,000 victims, mostly conversos, were burnt at the stake
between 1480 and 1530. The Inquisitor of Córdoba sent
134 conversos to their deaths over a six-month period
between 1504 and 1505, although he was later dismissed
for his zeal.
The Jews themselves were not normally subject to
the jurisdiction of the Inquisition, although there were
exceptions, as in 1490 when six Jews were convicted
of kidnapping and murdering a young Christian boy at
La Guardia, near Toledo. Unsurprisingly the ‘conversos
problem’ irreparably damaged the coexistence of the
Christian and Jewish communities. In 1492, the same
year as the victorious conquest of Granada, a royal edict
gave the Jews the choice of either converting or leaving
Spain. Since about half the Jews chose baptism the edict
of expulsion increased the converso population and the
workload of the Inquisition.
Heresy Seen as Social Subversion
With the expulsion of the Jews, the Moorish community, centred on Valencia and Granada, now
found itself increasingly vulnerable. Although valued,
like the Jews, for their contribution to the economy, the
reconquista spirit still remained at the heart of Spanish
society and the Moors were particularly feared for their
natural allegiance to the Ottoman Turks, the great scourge
of Christendom. After the fall of Granada in 1492, the
Muslim community was promised religious freedom but,
ten years later, were given an ultimatum to either convert
or leave Spain. The majority chose to stay and were
carefully watched by the Inquisition in case they showed
signs of secretly returning to their old ways, such as using
Arabic, keeping Ramadan, wearing Moorish costume or
even dancing the zambra. The Moriscos were eventually
expelled by Philip III between 1609 and 1614.
However, the secret followers of Judaism and Islam only
constituted part of the Inquisition’s brief. There were
other enemies within Spanish society. The Inquisition
tracked down followers of the Humanists and, more
critically, the Illuminists or Alumbrados, who promoted a
personalist, mystical religion which denied the necessity
of the Church and public worship. This campaign led
to encounters between the Inquisition and a number
of saints and mystics, including the chief pillars of the
Spanish Counter-Reformation. St Ignatius of Loyola was
questioned for his Erasmian and Illuminist sympathies
in 1526 and the Spiritual Exercises was included on the
Inquisition’s Index of censored books. In 1531 St John of
Avila was imprisoned for his view that ‘it was better to
give alms than to found chaplaincies,’ a view which had
much in common with Illuminism, but he was eventually
cleared. His great disciple, St Teresa of Avila, was also
suspected of the alumbrado heresy and her autobiography
was impounded until four years after her death.
Fear of Protestant Influence
In the late 1550s two Protestant ‘cells’ were uncovered in Valladolid and Seville and new laws were passed
almost immediately strengthening censorship and
forbidding students to study abroad. The Inquisition
directed its efforts against the perceived Protestant threat,
especially in the Barcelona, Saragossa and Seville areas,
and famously arrested the Spanish Primate, Bartolomé
Carranza (Archbishop of Toledo and once Papal Legate to
the England of Mary Tudor) for his suspected Lutheran
sympathies. His case was eventually referred to Rome,
where he was found to be innocent of actual heresy but
ordered to reject sixteen Lutheran propositions and do
penance at the convento of Santa Maria sopra Minerva.
Heresy understandably became identified with foreignness
and a number of English, Dutch and German sailors
and merchants were interrogated and punished. The
first Protestant Englishman to be burnt for heresy was
John Tack in Bilbao in May 1539 and other victims are
celebrated in the pages of John Foxe. Spain was deemed
an unsafe place to visit and treaties were made in 1604
and 1630 to protect English subjects in Spanish territory.
An Agent of Reform More Than Persecution
The Inquisition also concerned itself with more minor offences: blasphemy, superstitious behaviour, and a range of sexual crimes (fornication, bigamy, perversion and solicitation in the confessional). These ‘minor’ matters constituted around 59% of the cases processed by the Inquisition and rarely resulted in the death sentence. Especially in the field of minor religious deviance, the Inquisition acted as an agent of Tridentine reform, correcting unorthodox beliefs, stamping out superstition and incorporating doctrinal tests into the procedures of interrogation—from 1565 the accused were asked to
make the sign of the cross and recite the Pater, Ave, Credo and Salve. The Inquisition was more concerned with reconciliation and re-education than repression.
The Real Inquisition
It should be noted that the Inquisition in Spain was primarily an agency of the Crown and, in this respect,
it differed from the medieval and Roman Inquisitions. Although it was staffed by clerics and religious (appointed by the Crown), and its creation was approved by Sixtus V in 1478, the Spanish Inquisition was often criticised by popes and bishops. Sixtus V recommended moderation soon after the tribunal was set up, Leo X encouraged the prosecution of false witnesses and Paul III urged the Neapolitans to resist the introduction of the Inquisition by their Spanish masters (1546).
The Spanish Inquisition functioned according to a strict
procedure, enshrined in Torquemada’s Instrucciones
(1485). When the inquisitors arrived in a locality, the
first step was the proclamation of the Edict of Grace,
which listed the various heresies against the Faith and
encouraged sinners to ‘relieve their consciences’. In the
early days of the Tribunal, those who accused themselves
voluntarily within a period of thirty or forty days were
treated with mercy and offered reconciliation with the
Church without severe punishment. The grandfather of St
Teresa of Avila, Juan Sánchez, was a wealthy conversos
who took advantage of one such Edict and accused himself
of crimes that undermined the Church. He was sentenced
to be paraded through the streets, along with his children,
on successive Fridays, wearing the sambenito, a yellow
garment of shame marked with a large green cross and
tongues of fire. Humiliating as it was, he felt he was
avoiding the greater dangers of arrest and imprisonment.
Rough Justice, but Comparatively Good Conditions
Along with personal confession, penitents were expected to name their accomplices. Of course,
accusations depended as much on feuds and disputes
as matters of real heresy. It was reported, for example,
that many Jews denounced conversos because of their
betrayal of Judaism, while genuine converts to Christianity
were keen to inform on those who were bringing the
New Christians into disrepute. If the case was deemed
serious by the theological advisers (calificadores) and
the accused had not themselves come forward, an arrest
was made. The accused was taken to an inquisitorial
prison and his or her property was confiscated until
sentence was passed. The costs of his upkeep in prison
were covered by items that were auctioned off. If a case
was delayed the sequestration of property brought great
hardship to his family, although after 1561 dependants
were supported by the sale of confiscated possessions.
In the popular imagination, the Inquisition was seen as
a greedy body obsessed with profiting from the misery
of its victims. As Helen Rawlings writes, ‘the reality was
that for much of its existence the debts of the Holy Office
outweighed its profits’ and the most important source of
income was not confiscated property but, after 1559, the
revenues of fifty-four cathedral and forty-seven collegiate canonries.
Inquisitorial prisons had high standards for the times and were inspected several times a year—indeed, there is evidence that some prisoners in secular prisons deliberately made blasphemous remarks or announced they were heretics in order to be transferred to the care of the Inquisition.
Prisoners were isolated and, since it was hoped they would
examine their consciences and confess, they were not
initially told of the accusation made against them or the
identity of their denouncers. Torture was employed by the
Inquisition, as with other tribunals of the period, although
its use was limited and subject to strict controls. To take
one example, out of the 400 or so conversos interrogated
at Ciudad Real between 1483 and 1485, only two were
definitely tortured. By the eighteenth century it was
virtually unknown, and in 1816 Pope Pius VII forbade its
use in any Church tribunal. Throughout the Inquisition’s
history, most prisoners either confessed or were convicted
on the strength of the accusations made against them.
Lurid Protestant Propaganda
However, the familiar image of the Inquisition remains the dark torture chamber, where victims faced the
torments designed by the wicked inquisitor. In his famous
Rise of the Dutch Republic (1855), John Motley wrote:
The torture took place at midnight, in a gloomy dungeon, dimly lighted by torches. The victim— whether man, matron, or tender virgin—was stripped naked and stretched upon the wooden bench. Water, weights, fires, pulleys, screws—all the apparatus by which the sinews could be strained without cracking, the bones bruised without breaking, and the body racked exquisitely without giving up its ghost—was now put into operation. The executioner, enveloped in a black robe from head to foot, with his eyes glaring at his victim through holes cut in the hood which muffled his face, practised successively all the forms of torture which the devilish ingenuity of the monk had invented. The imagination sickens when striving to keep pace with these dreadful realities.
There were three forms of torture used: the potro (a rack
with cords that were pulled tightly around the limbs), the
garrucha or strappado (the victim was raised in the air
with a heavy weight tied to his feet, normally resulting in
dislocation) and the toca (the pouring of a large quantity
of water down the victim’s throat). The torturers were not
evil-minded friars but, in most cases, public executioners
hired for the session. Most of the ‘ingenious’ tortures
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faith
portrayed in novels and films were not in reality used
by the Inquisition. One of the more bizarre of these was the ‘Iron Virgin.’ Indeed, so controversial was it that
the Catholic Truth Society published a pamphlet on the subject in 1897. The Iron Virgin was a hollow figure of the Blessed Virgin that embraced the victim with sharp iron spikes—‘two entered his eyes, other pierced his back, his chest, and in fact, impaled him alive in such a manner that he lingered in the most agonising torture. When death relieved the poor wretch from his agonies, perhaps after days, a trap-door in the base was pulled open and the body was allowed to fall into the moat or river below.’ In actual fact, such a device was never used in Spain and was most probably a Protestant fabrication.
Auto da Fe
The inquisitorial process consisted of a series of hearings, in which both the denouncers and the
defendant gave testimony. With the help of his lawyer, the
accused had two strategies: abonos (finding favourable
witnesses) or tachas (demonstrating that the denouncers
were prejudiced). The consulta de fe then met to discuss
the case and pass sentence. If the decision was not
unanimous it was passed to the central Suprema.
After months, even years, of proceedings in the privacy
of the Inquisition prison, the verdict was solemnised in a
ceremony called the auto de fe (act of faith), either publicly
(auto público general) or semi-privately (autillo). The latter
was more common and the former occurred occasionally
on great feasts in the presence of local worthies and
large crowds. The tribunal of Toledo held twelve public
autos between 1575 and 1610 and some 30,000 are said
to have attended the auto of 1610 at Logroño, a town
with a population of only 4,000. As Helen Rawlings
explains, ‘the auto de fe was a part-religious, part-judicial
ceremony that taught a lesson to all those present, the
faithful and the non-faithful, of what the consequences
of non-submission might be before the tribunal of faith
on earth and its counterpart, the divine court on high.’
These were not orgies of mass burnings but rather, in their
baroque heyday, a theatrical and symbolic expression of
the supremacy of the Faith, the mercy of the Church and
the order of society.
The ceremonies kicked off with a procession on the evening before, in which the Green Cross and olive branches (the Inquisitorial ‘logo’) were carried to the main square and prayers were said. The following morning Mass was celebrated, breakfast provided and a large procession formed, the condemned carrying lit candles. Two stages were erected—one for the officials and the other for the penitents. A sermon was preached (Sermón de la Fe) and sentences were then pronounced.
Death Penalties A Rarity
Penalties included the wearing of the humiliating sambenito, whipping, fines, service in the galleys,
exile or imprisonment. For relapsed heretics or the
impenitent, the most severe punishment was relaxation to the secular arm for execution, which took place separately from the auto de fe at the quemadero (place of burning). If the condemned repented at the last minute, they were garroted as the flames were lit. Frequently effigies were burned for those condemned in absentia.
The Spanish Inquisition was responsible for the deaths
of between 3,000 and 5,000 people during its 350-year
history, about 2% of all cases, with executions peaking
in the tribunal’s first fifty years (mostly converso) and at
the end of the sixteenth century (mostly morisco). This is
a bad enough statistic but a far cry from the exaggerated
estimates made by some sensationalist writers. According
to Henry Kamen, the leading revisionist historian of the
Inquisition:
it has been estimated that in nineteen of the tribunals, over the period 1540-1700, under two per cent of the accused were executed (i.e. relaxed in person). If this is anywhere near the truth, it would seem that during the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries less than three people a year were executed by the Inquisition in the whole of the Spanish monarchy from Sicily to Peru - possibly a lower rate than in any provincial court of justice in Spain or anywhere else in Europe.
Around the same time, hundreds of executions took place each year in England and tens of thousands of alleged witches were put to death in northern Europe. Comparatively far more executions take place each year in the modern United States, where there were 4,863 executions between 1936 and 2005.
A Popular and Respected Institution
The Inquisition was not the repressive ‘Big Brother’ that some writers have described. For much of its existence it was under-staffed, poorly financed and totally dependent on the support and co-operation of the local population. Remote areas such as Galicia and the Basque country were seldom visited by inquisitors. The Inquisition also seems to have been popular—or at least respected—for much of its existence, despite the fear that it inevitably generated in some quarters. It was regarded as a guarantee of stability and a pillar of society. As Henry Kamen pointed out:
the tribunal was, after all, not a despotic body imposed on them tyrannically, but a logical expression of the social prejudices prevalent in their midst. It was created to deal with a problem of heresy, and as long as the problem was deemed to exist people seemed faith as the problem was deemed to exist people seemed to accept it. At every moment the inquisitors were convinced that the people were with them, and they were not necessarily wrong…. At no time in ancien régime Spain—neither in the Castilian revolts of 1520 nor the Andalusian urban risings of 1648 nor in any other act of social unrest—did the populace attack the Inquisition as a religious institution.
Summing Up
The Inquisition was half a legal tribunal (with its
interrogations, trials and sentencing) and half an extension of the confessional (concerned with the
examination of conscience and reconciliation with the Church). The secrecy of its operation - prisoners even being made to swear not to reveal anything about their experiences on their release - inevitably led to a ‘Black Legend.’ However, recent research has confirmed the traditional arguments of Catholic apologists and backs up the following extract from an article on the Inquisition in the Dublin Review of 1850:
The secret arrests and mysterious disappearances will The secret arrests and mysterious disappearances will prove to be the purest invention. An arrest under the order of the Inquisition involved a minute and rigorous previous enquiry and, in later times, required a royal assent. The bolts and chains, under the weight of which the prisoners are described as groaning, are no less creatures of the novelist’s fancy; the use of such restrictions being entirely unknown, except when they were necessary to restrain a determined suicide. The abodes of perpetual darkness, to which the heroes of so many harrowing narratives are condemned, turn out to be lightsome and airsome chambers; and all the other horrors popularly attributed to the material of the system, are equally the result of prejudice or of dishonesty.
The Truth Behind the Myth
American Catholic apologist, Karl Keating, has asked exactly what the Inquisition proves about the Church:
That the Church contains sinners? Guilty as charged.
That the Church contains sinners? Guilty as charged. That at times sinners have reached positions of authority? Ditto. That even otherwise good Catholics, afire with zeal, sometimes lose their balance? True, all true, but such charges could be made and verified if the Inquisition never existed.
The Inquisition remains in some ways a most unfortunate
The Inquisition remains in some ways a most unfortunate
episode in the history of the Church and its effects could
indeed be cruel and repressive. However, much of its
activity has been misunderstood and exaggerated and
its work needs to be seen in the context of the times
and alongside the more positive aspects of the Catholic
Reformation, such as the foundation of new religious
Orders and the education of the Catholic clergy and laity.
As we have seen, the Inquisition aimed to promote peace,
unity, reconciliation with the Church and, in the case of
religious ignorance and superstition, re-education.
Perhaps we might even borrow the words of Monty Perhaps we might even borrow the words of Monty Python and say in conclusion: no one expects the truth behind the myth of the Spanish Inquisition.