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In the lush valleys and volcanic landscapes of what is now the Mexican state of Colima, a figure looms large in both history and legend: Colimotl, also known as Rey Coliman or Tzomé. Revered as a symbol of resistance and cultural pride, Colimotl is celebrated as the last leader of the Tecos, an indigenous people who inhabited the Señorío de Coliman before the Spanish conquest. His story, a blend of myth and potential historical truth, captures the spirit of indigenous defiance against overwhelming odds. While the scarcity of primary sources fuels debate about his existence, Colimotl’s legacy as a cultural icon endures, immortalized in statues, oral traditions, and the collective identity of Colima’s people. In this episode of Mexico Unexplained we will explore the life, battles, and enduring significance of Colimotl, examining the interplay between historical evidence and the mythic aura that surrounds him.
To understand Colimotl, we must first take a look at the world he inhabited. The Señorío de Coliman, centered in the fertile Valle de Tecomán with its capital at Caxitlán, was a vibrant indigenous polity in pre-Columbian western Mexico. The Tecos, also referred to as Colimas or Colimecas, were a Nahuatl-speaking people whose culture shared linguistic and cultural ties with the Aztecs, though their society was distinct. Their territory, nestled between the Pacific coast and the volcanic peaks of the Eje Neovolcánico, was rich in resources like saltpeter, gold, and copper, making it a target for neighboring powers such as the Tarascan or Purépecha Empire and, later, the Spanish conquistadors.
The name “Colima” itself derives from Nahuatl, with “colli” meaning mountain, volcano, or grandfather, and “maitl” meaning domain, translating to “place conquered by our grandfathers” or perhaps “the place dominated by the Fire God.” Local tradition suggests the name may also stem from Colimotl himself, a warrior-king who governed these lands at the time of Spanish contact. The 
Tecos’ society was sophisticated, with a hierarchical structure led by a Hueytlatoani, or great ruler, a council of nobles, and a powerful priesthood. Unlike hereditary monarchies, the Hueytlatoani was often elected, sometimes a nephew of the previous ruler, reflecting a complex political system.
Colimotl’s era was one of turmoil. In the early 1500s, the Tarascan Empire, based in neighboring Michoacán, sought to expand its influence into Colima, particularly to access its saltpeter refineries, a critical resource for gunpowder. Around the 1460s, under the Tarascan ruler Tzitzic Pandacuare, the Tecos faced invasions aimed at securing these resources. Colimotl, known then as Tzomé, emerged as a formidable leader during this period, reportedly defeating the Tarascans in what historians call The Saltpeter War at Tzacoalco. This victory not only repelled the invaders but also expanded Teco influence into neighboring regions like Sayula, Zapotlán, and Amula, which is now part of Jalisco.
The arrival of the Spanish in the early 1520s marked a turning point for Colimotl and the Tecos. Following the fall of Tenochtitlán in 1521 and the subjugation of the Tarascans in 1522, Spanish conquistadors turned their attention to Colima. Hernán Cortés, who dubbed the Teco leader “Rey Coliman,” sent expeditions to conquer the region. The first, led by Juan Rodríguez de Villafuerte in 1522, was met with fierce resistance. Colimotl’s forces defeated the Spanish and their Tarascan allies in battles at Trojes and Palenque de Tecomán, showcasing his strategic prowess. These victories, though temporary, cemented Colimotl’s reputation as a defender of his people.
In 1523, Cortés dispatched Gonzalo de Sandoval, a seasoned conquistador, to subdue Colima. This campaign proved decisive. In the Battle of Alima, near modern-day Tecomán, Colimotl’s forces were overwhelmed by the Spanish, who wielded superior weaponry and cavalry. Colimotl is believed to have died in this battle, though some accounts suggest he and his nobles retreated to a stronghold near the Colima volcano, where they either perished in a siege or, according to legend, threw themselves into the volcano to avoid capture.
The Spanish established San Sebastián de Colima in 1523, near Caxitlán, marking the beginning of colonial rule. The indigenous population faced devastating losses due to warfare, disease, and the encomienda system, which subjected them to forced labor. By 1554, Colima’s native population had plummeted from an estimated 150,000 to 15,000, a tragic testament to the conquest’s toll. Despite this, Colimotl’s resistance left an indelible mark, transforming him into a symbol of indigenous valor.
The question of whether Colimotl was a real historical figure or a mythic construct remains contentious. The primary sources mentioning him are sparse and written long after the events. Hernán Cortés’ Letters of Relation of 1522 briefly refer to a “Señor” dominating the Colima coast, likely Colimotl, who blocked the Tarascan Empire’s access to the sea. Fray Antonio Tello’s Crónica Miscelánea de la Sancta Provincia de Jalisco written in 1652 and Fray Antonio Frejes’ Memoria Histórica de la Conquista de Jalisco written sometime around 1800 provide more detailed accounts, describing Colimotl as a “famous king” who fought the Spanish. However, these sources, written decades or centuries later, rely on oral traditions and lack corroborating contemporary documents.
Critics argue that Tello, a Franciscan chronicler, may have embellished stories to glorify indigenous resistance, a common practice among those who documented life in the early years of colonial Mexico. The absence of pre-conquest records, as the Tecos lacked a written script, further complicates verification. Some historians suggest Colimotl may represent a composite of multiple Teco leaders, with his story amplified over time to inspire local Native pride. Others propose he really could have been a woman, as some oral traditions hint at a strong female leader defeating the Spanish, a notion that unsettled colonial chroniclers. Was this female warrior’s history erased and recrafted by the victors or is the notion that he could have really been female a product of 21st Century leftist academic historical revisionism?
Supporters of Colimotl’s historicity point to the consistency of oral traditions preserved by the Tecos and later recorded by Franciscans, such as Fray Jerónimo de Alcalá’s Relación de Michoacán written between 1539 and 1541, which mentions “Señores de Colima.” The specificity of battles like Trojes and Alima, combined with Cortés’ reference to a powerful local leader, lends credence to the idea that a figure like Colimotl existed, even if details were later romanticized and embellished.
Regardless of historical debates, Colimotl’s cultural significance is undeniable. In 1955, under Governor González Lugo, a monumental statue of Colimotl was erected at the entrance to Colima City, designed by renowned sculptor Juan F. Olaguíbel. Standing well over twenty feet tall, the statue depicts a defiant warrior holding a shield and lance, symbolizing indigenous resistance. The pedestal features bas-reliefs of pre-Columbian life and inscriptions that read, “More powerful than your history, your legend is both destiny and privilege” and “Colima exalts here the virtues of your lineage as a definition of patriotism.” These phrases reflect the blend of myth and civic pride surrounding Colimotl.
A 1990s survey revealed that over 80% of Colima’s residents identified Colimotl as a key cultural symbol, surpassing other regional icons. His image graces public spaces, schools, and festivals, notably during Día del Indígena celebrations. The 2011 documentary “Hombre de Piedra” further elevated his profile, winning awards for its exploration of Colimotl’s story as a pre-Columbian hero.
Colimotl’s legacy extends beyond Colima. His story resonates with broader narratives of indigenous resistance across Mexico and into the United States, paralleling figures like Cuauhtémoc or Cuitláhuac. His defiance against both the Tarascan Empire and Spanish forces underscores the Tecos’ fierce independence, while Colimotl’s ambiguous historicity mirrors the challenges of reconstructing pre-Columbian narratives in the absence of written records.
Today, Colimotl serves as a touchstone for Colima’s identity, embodying resilience and cultural continuity across the centuries. His story is taught in schools, fostering pride in indigenous heritage amid Mexico’s complex mestizo identity. The statue in Colima City, gazing toward the sea, symbolizes vigilance over the land the Tecos once ruled. Yet, the romanticization of Colimotl raises questions about how history is constructed. The lack of definitive evidence invites reflection on whether his legend serves more as a unifying myth than a verifiable biography. The debate over Colimotl’s existence also highlights broader issues in Mexican historiography. Colonial records, often written by conquerors, marginalized indigenous perspectives, leaving gaps that oral traditions and later chroniclers attempted to fill. Colimotl’s story, whether wholly factual or partly mythic, fills such a gap, offering Colima a hero who resisted the erasure of his people’s culture.
Colimotl, or Rey Coliman, remains an enigmatic figure whose story blends historical fragments with a kind of mythical grandeur. As the Hueytlatoani of the Tecos, he led his people through pivotal conflicts, from the Saltpeter War against the Tarascan Empire to the desperate stand against Spanish imperial expansion. While his existence is debated, the consistency of oral traditions and sparse colonial references suggest a kernel of truth behind the legend. His victories in two key battles, and his ultimate defeat at Alima, paint a portrait of a leader who fought against overwhelming odds to protect his people. In modern-day Colima, the Rey Coliman is more than a historical figure; he is a symbol of resistance, identity, and pride. His statue, inscriptions, and cultural prominence reflect a collective desire to honor indigenous roots in the face of colonial and post-modern legacies. Whether he was a single warrior-king or a composite of Teco leaders, Colimotl’s story resonates as a testament to the enduring spirit of Mexico’s Native peoples. As Colima continues to grapple with its past and present, Colimotl stands as a reminder of the courage and resilience that define its heritage.