©2005 by Bryan Koronkiewicz

La Malinche is an important female figure in Mexican and ethnic Mexican history. She symbolizes for many the betrayal of the race by women. The word malinchista is invoked to used to identify women as particularly culpable for the conquest of the Americas by Europeans. This supremely sexist interpretation of the history of European conquest holds great sway among many ethnic Mexicans—men and women alike.

Yet, there are others who challenge this view and see La Malinche, instead, as a figure of valor. Casting off the title of traitor, Chicana and Chicano feminists assign her the role of the strong Chicana and proud mother of the Mexican race. How did this complete reversal of meaning take place? A large part of the answer can be found in a careful reading of the work of contemporary Chicana authors and poets, such as Carmen Tafolla, Naomi Quiñonez, and Helen Silvas. These women empower themselves and their fellow Chicanas by using their writings to challenge the dominant historical constructions of La Malinche. Instead of devising a new symbol to embody their feminist ideals, these Chicanas and their Chicano brothers help to (re)construct the history of La Malinche. In doing so, they not only challenge pre-existing views of a prominent historical figure, but they also challenge the long-accepted traditional roles of Chicanas more generally.

Chicana feminist writers transformed La Malinche’s identity by first relating the history of her condemnation. They found a multitude of negative portrayals of La Malinche upon which to draw. Ironically, even though La Malinche is recognized in historical documents as having an extraordinary facility with many different languages that allowed her to serve as a translator, her intelligence, skill, and even brilliance are overshadowed by her complicity with the enemy.1 Yet, very, very few accounts allow La Malinche to speak for herself. Chicana scholars have constructed, nevertheless, an alternative (her)story of this important historical figure.

Malinal—as her actual given name is believed to be—was born the daughter of an Aztec cacique, or chief, and a member of the privileged and educated class. After the death of La Malinche’s father, her mother sought control of all of the inheritance. Not wanting her daughter to challenge her power, she gave Malinal away to traders, who in turn sold her to the ruling cacique of a territory located on the coast of the Yucatán peninsula.2 Over the years, she was sold or traded by one owner after another. Finally, around age eighteen or nineteen, La Malinche’s role in history was set in motion when she and twenty other young women were presented by a cacique as gifts to the Spaniards in 1519 to serve them as slaves.3 By chance, the Spaniards discovered that Malinal, newly christened Doña Marina, could speak both Mayan, the language of her adopted people, and Nahuatl, the language of her Aztec heritage. She quickly become skilled at speaking Castilian Spanish as well, and this provided the connection necessary to converse with the Aztec emperor, Moctezuma. Soon La Malinche developed into not only a translator but also the personal advisor to Hernán Cortés, the leader of the Spanish conquistadors. She served Cortés as guide, a consultant on indigenous traditions and culture, and a skilled strategist.4

Since scholars only have fragments of Malinal’s story, gossip, conjecture, and rumors have filled in the gaps. LaMalinche assumed mythic stature as the cause of the horror that befell native peoples as millions upon millions perished following contact with Europeans—through warfare, murder, disease, and rape. La Malinche became the “Eve” of the paradise of the Americas, who could be blamed for the near destruction of the race at the hands of Europeans.5 Since she played such a pivotal role in building alliances among native peoples against Moctezuma, many Mexicans blamed her for the fall of the Aztec empire and the rise of European dominance. Over time, La Malinche became the national icon of betrayal—the native woman who not only submitted to the Spaniards but joined in the conquest of her own people.

La Malinche is associated with the common scornful phrase hijo de la chingada, which translates to “son of the sexually violated woman.” This insult confers a degraded status to women who are sexually violated—blaming them for their own victimization—thus deflecting responsibility from the sexual violator. Hijo de la chingada extends this degradation to all the children of such women, who become bastards in the eyes of the race. It refers to Malinal’s mestizo son whose father was none other than her Spanish companion, Hernán Cortés.6 Furthermore, calling someone a malinchista implies that the person is not genuinely Mexican, but rather, greatly influenced by foreigners.7 This person is the product of race mixture—a mixing of native blood and culture with that of Europeans. Sexism is also inherent in this term. Whether a man or a woman “betrays,” the action becomes implied through the language as something female.8 This correlates directly to how La Malinche occupied the role of the biblical Eve. This association represents her as the sinful embodiment of inherent feminine weakness that transforms all women into chingadas.9 A good example of an object of popular Mexican culture where this is evident is in the mural Cortés and Malinche by José Clemente Orozco.10 In the painting, La Malinche is shown being held back by her master’s hand as the submissive Indian woman—dark, naked, and miserable. Orozco portrays La Malinche as nothing more than an object who is barely conscious, completely enigmatic, enclosed, and muted.11

In more recent times, however, the meanings attached to La Malinche have become more complicated and nuanced. Many historians now argue that the legendary indigenous translator in fact saved many of her people. They assert that the demise of the Aztec empire had already begun under Moctezuma’s dictatorial control and that destruction was a foregone conclusion when gold was first discovered in the Americas.12 Further, they hold that, without someone like Malinal, who was not only a fluent translator but an advisor to both native peoples and Spanish conquerors during negotiations, the Spaniards might well have been much more brutal and destructive in their conquest of Mexico. And, although the Aztec empire may have been destroyed, the mexica (Aztec) and other Indian groups, their Nahuatl, Maya, and other languages, and much of their history and culture continue to survive—thanks in part to La Malinche’s role as ambassador and strategist. Furthermore, her relationship with Cortés contributed to the production of a new race—la raza cosmica—both literally with the birth of their mixed-race son, Martín, and symbolically with the birth of the Mexican mestizo people.13 The transformation of Malinche’s image has developed into a powerful, often poetic way to untangle the contradictory assertions of advocates of gender and racial equality, feminism, and ethnic nationalism.14

There are many significant reasons why Chicana writers choose to resymbolize La Malinche. First, they were all too familiar with the term and the misogyny it represented among ethnic Mexicans. Many had first-hand experience with how ethnic Mexican men used the name LaMalinche for Chicanas who acted in ways that some Chicanos considered assimilationist, such as marrying white men or obtaining higher education. But, more important, Chicanos used the term LaMalinche to refer to Chicanas who supported feminism.15 By putting a positive spin on this term, Chicana writers sought to reclaim it as a means to confront the widespread male-centeredness of the Chicano Movement.16 Therefore, the image of La Malinche now personifies intellect, ingenuity, adaptability, and leadership. All of these are attributes that describe Chicanas free from conventional norms.17

One of the most important tools Chicanas use in their poetry is woman’s voice. La Malinche is essential to this idea because during her time period, women’s voices were forbidden in matters of public life or state affairs, very similar to the way things were during the start of the Chicano/a Movement.18 Through this, instead of being interpreted as a victim, La Malinche can be understood as a survivor because she had strength and a voice in a violent society that particularly targeted women.19 For example, in Carmen Tafolla’s poem simply entitled “La Malinche,” the opening line reads, “Yo soy la Malinche,” which translates to “I am Malinche.”20 Not only is she giving the first-person power of voice to La Malinche, but she also assumes the role of La Malinche in the poem and invokes for herself the power that La Malinche possesses. At the same time Tafolla calls upon another famous poem, “ Yo soy Joaquín” by Rodolfo “Corky” Gonzales, one of the first prominent pieces of Chicano/a literature.21 Tafolla’s work is a direct retort to the masculine nationalism of Gonzales’s work, which barred women from taking central roles in the Chicano/a Movement.

Another essential aspect of Chicana poetry is reinterpretation. The feminist poets fervently discard the long-established constructions of La Malinche. They return to the historical record and rewrite La Malinche’s identity from an entirely different point of view.22 Tafolla writes, again from La Malinche’s perspective, “I began to dream … / I saw, / and I acted!”23 And later, near the end, she says, “But Chingada I was not. / Not tricked, not screwed, not traitor. / For I was not traitor to myself — / I saw a dream / and I reached it.”24 Tafolla argues that La Malinche saw her chance to be more than a slave girl, took it, and achieved success. Naomi Quiñonez furthers this idea that La Malinche took the initiative when she states in her poem, “ Trilogy,” that through her relationship with Cortés, La Malinche “gave him Mexico.”25 Quiñonez implies that La Malinche was the one in control. In her poem “ Malinche Reborn,” Helen Silvas reinterprets La Malinche in a slightly different way, but also reimagines the events that befell Malinal. The poem asserts that La Malinche did not betray her nation because her people betrayed her first, when she was sent away as a slave and an outcast.26 Silvas suggests that La Malinche did what she had to do to survive.

Throughout many aspects of Chicano/a culture, La Malinche appears as a principal historical figure. Since the fall of the Aztec empire, she has been regarded with negativity, which has infused Chicano/a history, culture, and society. This led to expressions such as hijo de la chingada and malinchista to single out someone out who is not “whole-heartedly” Mexican. Nevertheless, during the twentieth century, many reinterpreted La Malinche’s identity. No longer a symbol of betrayal, Chicana feminists portray her with pride as a strong Chicana. Many contemporary Chicana authors, including Carmen Tafolla, Naomi Quiñonez, and Helen Silvas, incorporate La Malinche into their poetry. By giving her a voice and reinterpreting her story, these feminist authors dispute the previously damned image of La Malinche. Chicanas have reconstructed the history of La Malinche, and, in doing so, they have altered not only the conventional attitudes toward this prominent woman in history, but also toward Chicanas in contemporary society.

1. Anna Lanyon, Malinche’s Conquest (St. Leonards, N.S.W.: Allen & Unwin, 1999), 12.
2. Cordelia Candelaria, “La Malinche, Feminist Prototype,” Frontiers: Journal of Women Studies 5, no. 2 (Summer 1980): 2.
3. Lanyon, Malinche’s Conquest , 57.
4. Candelaria, “La Malinche, Feminist Prototype,” 3.
5. Peter Verdonk, ed., Twentieth-Century Poetry: From Text to Context (New York: Routledge, 1993), 171.
6. Verdonk, Twentieth-Century Poetry , 174.
7. Lanyon, Malinche’s Conquest , 6.
8. Verdonk, Twentieth-Century Poetry , 174.
9. Sandra Messinger Cypess, La Malinche in Mexican Literature: From Mystery to Myth (Austin: University of Texas Press, 1991), 94.
10. Carlos Fuentes, The Buried Mirror: Reflections on Spain and the New World (Boston: Houghton Mifflin, 1992), 112.
11. Lanyon, Malinche’s Conquest , 9.
12. Candelaria, “La Malinche, Feminist Prototype,” 6.
13. Ibid., 3.
14. Verdonk, Twentieth-Century Poetry , 171.
15. Ibid., 175.
16. Ibid.
17. Candelaria, “La Malinche, Feminist Prototype,” 6.
18. Lanyon, Malinche’s Conquest , 73.
19. Maggie McFadden, “On Unprotected Females, Violence, and Survival in the New World: Introduction,” NWSA Journal 13, no. 1 ( April 1, 2001): ix.
20. Carmen Tafolla, “La Malinche,” Canto al Pueblo (San Antonio, TX: Penca Books, 1978), line 1.
21. Verdonk, Twentieth-Century Poetry , 180.
22. Ibid., 178.
23. Tafolla, “La Malinche,” lines 14-16.
24. Ibid., lines 50-54.
25. Naomi Quiñonez, “Trilogy,” Sueño de Colibri/Hummingbird Dream (Boulder, CO: West End Press, 1985), line 15.
26. Helen Silvas, “Malinche Reborn,” Irvine Chicano Literary Prize, 1985-87 (Irvine: Department of Spanish and Portuguese, University of California, 1988).

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