The Other Faces of Guatemala

In the Mayan world, masks were used in ceremonies and ritual performances to assume the identity of gods, animals, or supernatural beings, and even to accompany the deceased on their journey to the underworld. The most notable were the zoomorphic masks associated with animals and the protagonists of legends, fables, religious beliefs, and Mayan conceptions regarding the relationship between human beings and the forces of nature. Wearing an animal mask could symbolically signify taking on some of its qualities or invoking its energy, and warriors also used them as signs of strength and tools to intimidate their adversaries.

These pre-Hispanic traditions did not disappear with the Spanish conquest; rather, they underwent numerous changes and were appropriated and reinterpreted by the evangelizers, who incorporated these masks into dances, ceremonies, and theatrical performances intended to convey the imagery and values of Christianity. The zoomorphic masks underwent transculturation and were integrated into certain dances performed during patron saint festivals and even evangelization events. They served as a form of Mayan cultural continuity and, at the same time, of resistance.

Many of the religious narratives introduced by the conquistadors—such as the Dance of the Conquest, the Dances of the Moors and Christians, or the Dance of the 24 Devils—which have been preserved—coexisted alongside traditional dances such as those of Tocontín, Topocomad, the Dance of the Huehuetecos, or the Dance of the Deer, in which the nahualist influence is evident, along with a conception of the animal that transcends its purely naturalistic representation to take on symbolic and spiritual dimensions.

The most striking expression of evangelization is the Dance of the Conquest, which dramatizes one of the central and most traumatic events in Guatemalan history: the conquest of Mayan territory by Spanish forces led by Pedro de Alvarado. The dance is more than a theatrical reenactment, as it intertwines historical memory, evangelization, violence, resistance, and cultural transmission.

It is precisely this ambiguity and syncretism that gives special significance to certain cultural expressions in Guatemala: born out of a colonial representation of Spanish victory, they ultimately became part of the cultural memory of the indigenous communities themselves and incorporated masks from both traditions.

Many colonial dances were not merely about conquest but also served as a means of social cohesion; among these, the Baile de los Convites, or Dance of the Guests, stands out. Its origins lie in colonial-era ceremonies honoring the patron saints of cities, which sought to include the Maya populations.

In other expressions, the moralistic, evangelizing view of good and evil is more prominent, as in the Dances of the Moors and Christians from the Iberian Peninsula, which reenacted the historical conflicts between Christians and Muslims and were adapted as an analogy for evangelization. These were dances or theatrical performances centered on the confrontation between Christians—portrayed as heroes and defenders of the faith—and the Moors, who were presented as their adversaries. The dance served simultaneously as entertainment, a theatrical performance, and a vehicle for ideological transmission.

More specifically, the Dance of the 24 Devils sought to instill a moral conception of the world organized around the confrontation between good and evil, in which each devil represents a sin or a particular form of moral deviation, and whose dialogues and confrontations construct a pedagogical and theatrical representation of the struggle between salvation and sin, heaven and hell, virtue and damnation.

Guatemalan masks encapsulate different layers of an extraordinarily complex cultural history. While some more prominently reflect ancient Mayan worldviews, others emerged from colonial mechanisms of evangelization, and many incorporate elements from both worlds.

Rather than hiding a face, these masks reveal others: behind the carved wood appear gods, animals, conquistadors, Indigenous people, saints, devils, heroes, enemies, and popular figures. Each mask contains a small narrative and, at the same time, is part of a much larger story: that of the violent encounter, the overlapping, and the persistence of different cultures in a complex process of collective construction.

For this reason, contemplating a traditional Guatemalan mask today means more than simply observing a handcrafted object. It means engaging with a memory that has spanned centuries of conquests, evangelization, resistance, and transformations. These are faces that once belonged to gods, warriors, animals, or demons—and they continue to speak to us today.

They are, in short, other faces of Guatemala.

Eco. Claudio Rama