Latest / The History of Portugal: The Small Nation That Built a Global Empire — Fexingo History / The Portuguese Inquisition: Faith, Fear, and Empire
Transcript
- Lucas: So we've talked a lot about Portugal's expansion overseas, but there's a darker, more inward-facing institution that shaped the country just as profoundly: the Portuguese Inquisition. Established in 1536, it lasted for over 200 years and left a deep mark on society. Luna: Right, we touched on it briefly during the Jewish legacy episode, but I'd love to dig deeper into how it actually worked. Lucas: Absolutely. The Inquisition, formally the Tribunal do Santo Ofício, was created by King João III. He was deeply pious and worried that the New Christians — Jews who had been forcibly converted in 1497 — were secretly practicing Judaism. So he petitioned the Pope for permission to set up an Inquisition modeled on the Spanish one. Lucas: The Pope was initially reluctant; Clement VII even granted a bull in 1533 that allowed New Christians to be tried by regular bishops, not a special tribunal. But pressure from the king and the Dominican order eventually led to the establishment of the Inquisition in 1536, under papal authority. Luna: So the Dominicans were the ones running it? I remember they were known as the 'Hounds of the Lord' in Latin. Lucas: Exactly, Domini canes — a play on words. The first Grand Inquisitor was a Dominican friar, Diogo da Silva. But perhaps the most famous was Cardinal Henrique, the king's brother, who later became King Henrique himself. He oversaw a major auto-da-fé in 1540 in Lisbon, where 30 people were burned at the stake. Lucas: The auto-da-fé, meaning 'act of faith,' was a public ceremony where the sentences were read and the condemned were handed over to secular authorities for execution. It was a huge spectacle, drawing crowds, with processions, sermons, and elaborate staging. Luna: Were all the executions burnings, or were there other punishments? Lucas: Burnings were reserved for those who refused to repent. If you confessed and recanted, you might get a lesser punishment: a fine, flogging, public humiliation, or prison. But the Inquisition's procedures were stacked against the accused. You didn't know who your accusers were; witnesses were secret, and torture was used to extract confessions. Lucas: The accused were often held in cramped, dark cells for months or years. The trial had no formal charges until late in the process. And the Inquisition confiscated property from the condemned, so there was a financial incentive to convict. Luna: That's a terrible incentive. So who were the main targets, beyond New Christians? Lucas: New Christians were the primary target in the early decades, but the Inquisition also prosecuted Protestants, particularly in the 16th century when Portugal feared the spread of Lutheranism. Later, it went after 'bigamists,' 'sodomites,' and people accused of witchcraft or blasphemy. Basically, anyone who deviated from Catholic orthodoxy. Lucas: One notable case was the playwright António José da Silva, who was a New Christian born in Brazil. He was arrested by the Inquisition twice. The first time he escaped with a light sentence, but the second time, in 1739, he was convicted of Judaizing and burned at the stake in an auto-da-fé in Lisbon. Luna: That's so tragic. I've heard of him — he wrote puppet plays, didn't he? Lucas: Yes, he was a brilliant satirist and playwright, known for his marionette comedies. His works were popular, but his Jewish ancestry made him a target. His execution was a huge public event, attended by thousands. Lucas: The Inquisition also censored books. It maintained an Index of Forbidden Books, and even people with personal libraries were subject to inspection. This stifled intellectual life in Portugal for centuries. Thinkers like the philosopher João de Barros, who wrote about language, had to tread carefully. Luna: Did the Inquisition ever go after the nobility or were they protected? Lucas: They generally avoided prosecuting the high nobility, who had influence and could appeal to the King. But the gentry and bourgeoisie were vulnerable. And the Inquisition's power grew over time; by the 17th century, it had become a state within a state, with its own prisons, judges, and spies. Lucas: One of the most controversial periods was under the Habsburg kings, after Philip II of Spain took over Portugal in 1580. The Inquisition became even more aggressive, and many New Christians fled to Amsterdam, where they helped build the Dutch commercial empire. Luna: So the Inquisition actually pushed talent and capital out of Portugal. Lucas: Exactly. That's a key point. The persecution of New Christians — many of whom were merchants, bankers, and skilled artisans — was a huge drain on the economy. It's often cited as one reason Portugal's imperial power declined in the 17th century. Lucas: But the Inquisition itself began to wane in the 18th century. The Marquês de Pombal, the powerful prime minister under King José I, curbed its influence. He saw it as backward and harmful to the state. In 1771, he appointed a layman as Grand Inquisitor and abolished the distinction between New and Old Christians. Luna: So Pombal, who we talked about in the earthquake episode, also reformed the Inquisition. He really was a modernizer. Lucas: He was. The Inquisition formally ended in 1821, after the Liberal Revolution. But its legacy of fear, mistrust, and cultural stagnation lingered. It's a sobering chapter in Portuguese history — one that shows how faith can be twisted into a tool of control. Lucas: And yet, the Inquisition also left behind a rich archival record. The trial documents are a goldmine for historians studying everything from daily life to religious beliefs. They preserve the voices of ordinary people — fishermen, slaves, women — who might otherwise be invisible. Luna: That's a fascinating perspective. So in a way, the Inquisition's meticulous record-keeping has given us a window into the lives of the very people it persecuted. Lucas: Exactly. It's a dark window, but it's still a window. And it reminds us that history is never simple — even an institution as cruel as the Inquisition can, centuries later, provide unexpected insights.