La Conquistadora: The Virgin Mary at War and Peace in the Old and New Worlds by Amy G. Remensnyder (review)

For many, the archetypal image of the Virgin Mary reveals her cloaked in blue, her arms outstretched as she glows resplendently from an altar or a garden grotto, her face serene, her eyes cast downward. Alternately, in classic renditions of her bodily ascension to heaven, her eyes gaze brightly upward as she is enveloped in rosy crenulated clouds, while heavenly cherubs peer out from the crepuscular rays. In depictions of La Pietà, sorrow torments her countenance as she holds her dead son’s body, her gaze often turned heavenward but this time with different intent. These various images of the Mother of Christ, popularly known as “Our Lady of Grace,” contrast sharply with those of an alter ego—Our Lady of Conquest—that have emblazoned shields, crests, and banners taken into battle over the centuries and across the continents.

When and where did the soft cloaks and gentle demeanor of the earlier depictions transpose into battle garments—and battle cries? Or, as Amy G. Remensnyder asks in her book, choosing a striking example of the transformation of the Virgin’s image: “What did such Madonnas mean to Spaniards as they invoked the past in service of the colonial present?” (p. 293). When Our Lady donned the mantle of La Conquistadora—to lead soldiers to victory for God and King—she began a journey that continues to this day. For this reason, Remensnyder’s book will well serve students of both ancient and modern geopolitical struggles.

Remensnyder attempts to reconcile the dichotomy of the image of the Virgin Mother’s suffering with the battle cry of war over which her image has often presided—a dichotomy made particularly striking against the backdrop painted by the author of Mary’s divine love of the infant Jesus being deployed to convert conquered peoples. The author’s academic remove allows her to delve into this type of nation-building without slipping into reveries on the pure theological symbolism of the Marian figure. The author’s thorough exploration of the wide use of Mary’s symbolism by governments and dynasties, particularly the Spanish monarchy, gives this book encyclopedic scope and makes it a fine reference on the numerous roles that Mary has played for civilizations that have artfully deployed her image in settings as diverse as medieval kingdoms and pioneer outposts of the New World. Remensnyder details the transformation of Mary’s image from that of a passive, loving object of inspiration to that of an instrument of action and war—in short, how the cry of battle replaced a mother’s tears for the loss of her son.

In examining the origins and evolution of the bellicose variant of the Virgin’s image, Remensnyder provides a compelling world history of the “gilded era of conquest” (p. 293). Although the Virgin is often fixed in communal memory as a stationary object, the author’s account of Mary’s iterations, journeys, and conquests highlights her ubiquitous and significant role in the spread of civilization, fraught as that may be for its interplay with the history of indigenous peoples. From this context, the author explores both cross-faith rituals of Marian devotion and manipulations of the image that lead the reader to ponder how the warrior function of the Queen of Heaven can be a lonely role indeed and that this kind of pilgrimage—the journey into the human heart—never ends.