La Malinche: The woman who helped destroy the Aztec Empire

At the start of the 16th century, Malinche was born in the region of Coatzacoalcos near the Gulf coast of what is now Veracruz.

She belonged to a high-status Nahua family, but her father died while she was still a child, and her mother remarried soon afterwards.

In order to preserve their new son’s inheritance, her family removed Malinche from the household and arranged for her to be taken away.

Sources differ on whether she was sold or given away, but either decision severed her ties with her former life. 

During her years in Maya territory, she adapted to an unfamiliar language and culture when she lived as a household slave.

Her forced removal from Nahua society transformed her status and identity, but it also provided her with practical skills that would later give her influence over others.

She learned to speak Mayan fluently, and her knowledge of two major Indigenous languages would eventually bring her to the attention of the Spanish. 

At a time when European forces were arriving on the coast, Malinche had already endured personal loss that left her dislocated and culturally isolated.

She had survived in a system that treated her as property, and her circumstances gave her few options other than compliance. 

In March 1519, Hernán Cortés and his journey reached the coastal town of Potonchán after leaving Cuba.

The local Maya resisted the Spanish but were defeated in the Battle of Centla on 14 March.

After their victory, the Spanish received tribute, including food, gold, and twenty women, several of whom were daughters of local elites.

Among these captives was Malinche. The Spaniards baptised the women and gave each a Christian name.

Malinche received the name Marina, and she began her new life inside the Spanish force as a servant. 

At first, she worked with the other women assigned to food preparation and domestic duties.

However, her ability to understand both Nahuatl and Mayan became apparent during early efforts to communicate with the Indigenous peoples of the region.

Cortés had brought Jerónimo de Aguilar, a Spaniard who had survived years as a captive among the Maya, but Aguilar did not speak Nahuatl.

Malinche quickly became essential as the link between Spanish and Nahua speech. 

Under this arrangement, Aguilar translated Spanish into Mayan, and Malinche then translated from Mayan into Nahuatl.

This method allowed Cortés to speak with local leaders who otherwise had no direct way to understand his intentions.

Her role expanded almost immediately, as her presence allowed the Spanish to extract promises, issue commands, and gather information.

Bernal Díaz del Castillo later acknowledged that without her, the conquest would have faced far greater obstacles. 

As weeks passed, Malinche began to learn Spanish and removed the need for a second interpreter.

Her growing fluency allowed her to become a direct conduit for Cortés, and her cultural knowledge gave him greater insight into Indigenous customs and rivalries, clarifying what he needed to anticipate in negotiations.

He relied on her more with each negotiation and conflict. 

In the early stages of the inland march, Malinche’s interpretations influenced Spanish interactions with powerful Indigenous groups.

When Cortés encountered the Tlaxcalans, who had long resisted the Aztec Empire, Malinche helped form a military alliance.

The success of this partnership gave the Spanish thousands of Indigenous warriors, who played a key role in the later siege of Tenochtitlán. 

During the stop in Cholula, she overheard reports of a planned ambush against the Spanish.

When she warned Cortés, he launched a violent early attack that killed hundreds of local leaders and warriors.

This event became one of the bloodiest moments of the conquest, and Malinche’s knowledge of local politics, acquired during years among Indigenous peoples, enabled her to detect threats that the Spanish would have otherwise missed. 

In the final approach to the Aztec capital, Malinche stood beside Cortés during his first meeting with Montezuma and translated the words of the emperor.

Her role in that encounter gave the Spanish a deeper understanding of the empire’s customs, fears, and weaknesses.

She interpreted not only language but also intent, which helped Cortés respond effectively to Aztec resistance and uncertainty.

In some Nahua accounts, including images from the Florentine Codex, she appears beside Cortés. 

During the battles, retreats, and prolonged siege that followed, Malinche relayed terms, helped manage alliances, and advised Cortés on the effects of his decisions.

Few others could speak with Aztec nobles and Spanish captains with equal clarity. 

At some point during the campaign, Cortés began treating Malinche as his personal companion.

In 1522, she gave birth to his son, Martín, who became one of the first mestizos in New Spain.

The child represented the early merging of two worlds, although the political and social consequences of this union were far from equal.

Martín later became a figure of historical interest when he was involved in the 1566 conspiracy of mestizos against Spanish rule. 

Cortés recognised both Malinche and Martín in official documents, in which he referred to her as Doña Marina, a title that meant that she was a woman of status.

Despite these markers of respect, the relationship remained unequal. Malinche could not walk away, and her safety depended on Cortés’s continued favour.

She used her intelligence and experience to remain relevant, but she had no means to control the events unfolding around her.

Her identity shifted from servant to mother of a Spanish child, and her social role changed accordingly. 

Following the conquest of Tenochtitlán, Malinche’s presence in Spanish accounts faded.

Cortés married Catalina Juárez, a Spanish noblewoman, and arranged for Malinche to wed Juan Jaramillo, one of his men, around 1524.

She had a daughter with Jaramillo and began living as part of the new colonial class that formed during the 1520s. 

Available sources suggest that she died around 1529, though no definitive record confirms this.

One legal document from that year refers to her as deceased, but her burial place and cause of death remain unknown.

Spanish chroniclers ceased to mention her, and her voice disappeared from the official narrative.

Her deeds, however, continued to appear in the writings of Bernal Díaz del Castillo and other participants in the conquest.

These accounts preserved her memory but offered no direct insights into her final years. 

Among colonial authorities, she no longer served a useful role. The conquest had moved into a new phase, focused on administration, tribute collection, and religious conversion.

Malinche, once vital to military success, faded into silence under Spanish rule. 

Over the following centuries, writers and political writers have struggled to define Malinche’s lasting impact.

In 19th-century Mexican literature, she became a traitor who betrayed her people to foreign invaders.

The insult “malinchista” entered the language as a term for someone who favours outsiders over national interests. 

From a modern historical perspective, this interpretation fails to account for her lack of choice.

Malinche did not choose to help the Spanish. Her involvement began with enslavement, followed by capture and forced labour.

She used her skills to survive, and her value to the Spanish came from her ability to bridge cultural gaps that no one else could cross.

As such, she responded to immediate needs, not long-term strategy. 

However, her position gave her influence in the moment, but she could not direct the conquest.

She spoke for others, relayed decisions, and translated intentions. Spanish achievmenets would have moved forward with or without her, but her participation accelerated the process.

Today, historians have reconsidered her story. Some have viewed her as a symbol of mixing cultures and the start of a new Mexican identity.

Others have emphasised her status as a woman used and discarded in a male-dominated empire.

Neverthelss, she continues as a central figure in the conquest of Mexico as its most memorable witness rather than its mastermind.