The Getty Murúa III – A Postcolonial Perspective
This is the third and final installation of a blog series taking a closer look at the fictional coats of arms in the Getty Murúa. The first post explored the cultural and historic environment of the manuscript’s author, Martín de Murúa whereas the second blog entry examined the depicted coats of arms and attempted to place them in a broader sociocultural context of the Americas. This final essay scrutinizes both the source material and the role of historians and heraldists in researching it with regards to a postcolonial point of view.
The previously examined display of coats of arms in the Getty Murúa, alongside the Inca rather than the Coya, as is the case in the Galvin manuscript, might be explained by looking at dynastic traditions in pre-Columbian Inca culture. In the Galvin manuscript, the inca and the coya are represented in two different sequences. The Getty Murúa, however, presents a modification to this, wherein the Inca is followed by his Coya.
Gendered and dynastic connotations in the Getty Murúa
Thomas Cummins posits that the aforementioned change was influenced by the political and cultural restructuring of Andean society. Prior to the conquest, the Andean ruler, the Inca, founded his own panaca, a royal lineage group. This included all the Inca’s descendants except his principal heir, who was the first son of the Inca and his coya, his principal first wife who was also his sister. Upon ascending to the throne, the heir would establish his own panaca. Cummins emphasises the significance of both male and female lineage in indigenous Andean society, contrasting this with the depiction of descent in Murúa’s work. He concludes his analysis by highlighting a “radical shift in attributes that realign Inca images of royalty with those of Europe”[1]. The difference in the placement of the coats of arms, now being displayed next to the male inca rather than the female coya as had been the case in the Galvin manuscript thusly reflects an assimilation process wherein European norms and convention are retroactively inserted into the historiography of non-European, Indigenous culture.
Seeing heraldic documents in their colonial context

Figure 1: UNKNOWN ARTIST, The coat of arms of the Conquistador Juan Tirado, 1572, coloured illustration, Archivo Ducal de Alba, Cuéllar (Segovia).
As historians and heraldists, it is imperative to recognise the sensitivity of colonial documents, particularly those created by individuals involved in the colonisation of South America. The present manuscript, as discussed above, was not produced by an indigenous scholar with the objective of providing an accurate and faithful account of Incan history. Instead, it was crafted by a person directly involved in the colonisation process, with a specific political agenda. Murúa’s alteration of the portrayals of the Inca and Coya, as previously mentioned, was a strategic effort to align it more seamlessly with a European cultural and dynastic framework. Furthermore, the Spaniard was critical of the indigenous foundational narrative, calling it a ‘fábula ridícula’, thereby discrediting the generational claim of the indigenous people to their own land. Additionally, if Guamán Poma is to be believed, Martín de Murúa mistreated and threatened the locals with extreme violence should they disobey him. A critical look is necessary when assessing these kinds of documents. The use of heraldic charges, particularly those that have been officially sanctioned, displaying military insignia and iconography associated with conquest and domination, is a common practice. These images were intended to commemorate and celebrate the violent subjugation of numerous indigenous populations during the conquest. A particularly violent and inhumane example of such a charge is the severed head of an indigenous ruler, as can be seen in the coat of arms of Juan Tirado (fig. 1). The border of his shield is charged with five severed heads of indigenous noblemen, identifiable by their nose and lip plugs. These ‘trophy heads’, as de la Paz and Luque-Talaván call them, commemorate Tirado’s participation in the conquest of the cities of Tenochtitlan-Tlalolco, Almería or Nauhtla, and specifically his killing of the locals.[2]
What is to be done?
Given the fact that these coats of arms were intended for display in a public context, it becomes evident that the purpose of these severed heads was to instill intimidation and demonstrate dominance. As scholars, it is imperative that we acknowledge these tendencies in heraldic depictions and exercise caution in our handling of such documents. We must adopt a critical stance towards historical actors and the history of our own discipline. It is a matter of great concern and frankly disturbing that even today, deeply offensive names for people of colour are still commonly and nonchalantly used not only in blazons but also in the broader discourse on heraldry. The use of pejorative terms such as ‘moors’ or, even more distressingly, ‘blackamoor’ not only perpetuates racist narratives but also reinforces historical injustices. As European scholars, we must exercise caution and investigate the narratives we are reproducing, being mindful of cultural differences and particularities. In light of the heightened awareness of cultural and social injustices, there is an opportunity and a responsibility to reevaluate the discourse surrounding individuals actively involved in the colonisation of indigenous populations. It is imperative to cease the glorification of these individuals as ‘brave warriors’ or ‘heroes’. Heraldists and historians researching heraldic subjects have the opportunity to contribute to a more nuanced understanding of the mechanisms of domination, violence and injustice perpetrated by European settlers and colonisers.
[1] Thomas F. Cummins, The Images in Murúa’s Historia General del Piru: An Art Historical Study, in: Anderson and Ibid. (eds.), The Getty Murúa, pp. 147–174, here pp. 169.
[2] Cf. María Castañeda De La Paz and Miguel Luque-Talaván, Privileges of the “Others”: The Coats of Arms Granted to Indigenous Conquistadors, in: Simon McKeown (ed.), The International Emblem: From Incunabula to the Internet. Selected Proceedings of the Eighth International Conference of the Society for Emblem Studies, 28th July – 1st August 2008, Winchester College, Newcastle upon Tyne 2010, pp. 283–316, here p. 288 f..
Literature
- Cummins, Thomas F., The Images in Murúa’s Historia General del Piru: An Art Historical Study, in: Anderson and Ibid. (eds.), The Getty Murúa, pp. 147–174.
- De la Paz, María Castañeda and Miguel Luque-Talaván, Privileges of the “Others”: The Coats of Arms Granted to Indigenous Conquistadors, in: Simon McKeown (ed.), The International Emblem: From Incunabula to the Internet. Selected Proceedings of the Eighth International Conference of the Society for Emblem Studies, 28th July – 1st August 2008, Winchester College, Newcastle upon Tyne 2010, pp. 283–316.
Image References
Figure 1: De la Paz and Luque-Talaván, Privileges of the “Others”, p. 300.
OpenEdition suggests that you cite this post as follows:
Jannes Schönhardt (February 19, 2025). The Getty Murúa III – A Postcolonial Perspective. Heraldica Nova. Retrieved December 11, 2025 from https://doi.org/10.58079/13cc3


El revisionismo ‘woke’ es nefasto para la ciencia, hay que combatir el racismo, no desfigurar el lenguaje: palabras que en el inglés de norteamérica son peyorativas, en otros idiomas no lo son. No poidemos mirar al pasado con la ideología del presente. No hay que ‘glorificar’ a las figuras históricas del pasado, sino estudiarlas. La ideología de la cancelación o damnatio memoriae solo puede llevarnos a repetir los errores del pasado. Pero los norteamericanos intentan imponer sus ideologías (y sus complejos) a todo el universo. Con eso se consigue que sólo muden las apariencias, pero que en el fondo nada cambie