Author Joseph P. Sánchez maps the early expansion of the Spanish empire north of Mexico and the ways in which “Indigenous territoriality clashed with European notions of sovereignty” (3). Beginning with the first expedition of Juan Oñate in 1598 and concluding with the Pueblo Revolt and the Reconquista, Sánchez tells the story of seventeenth-century New Mexico primarily through the lens of Spanish conquerors, both military and spiritual, who carried out the numerous invasions into Pueblo lands. Sánchez argues that “the triad of pueblos, plains, and province became the evolutionary catalyst for change and continuity” where “the ambiguous lines between Indigenous territoriality and European sovereignty would be tested” (19).

While Sánchez's goal of telling the early colonial history of New Mexico is clear, his “pueblos, plains, and province” is less so. The concept is never made clear, nor is how it defines New Mexico in the seventeenth century as Sánchez asserts it does. For example, Sánchez posits that the expansion of New Spain northward to the Rio Grande and beyond “formed the triad of pueblos, plains, and province,” which “is an integral part of the history of New Mexico, for it defines the complexity of the concept of homeland” (5). How so?

He is at his best when discussing the internal politics and intrigue that characterized the struggle for power between civil and religious authorities, highlighting “the contradictions between the legal status of Indians, ecclesiastical immunities, and gubernatorial jurisdiction” on the fringes of Spanish empire (210). In perhaps his most salient intervention, Sánchez challenges representations of the Spanish empire and Spanish conquistadors as uniquely cruel, arguing that Spanish colonizers were no more cruel than other European colonizers. While it is right to challenge claims of Spanish colonial exceptionalism, the narrative in many places seems to flirt with triumphal edification. I do not believe that this was the author's intention, but the language is often problematic. For example, Pueblos “from time to time . . . would ‘rebel’ against Spanish sovereignty” (13). Does the author mean to imply with ‘rebel’ that Pueblos were not really rebelling? “Groups or individuals who resisted coercion,” however, “accordingly suffered the consequences of colonial European justice” (13).

While Spaniards did things like “deploy men and artillery with an odd calm,” dissident Natives were “marauding Indians” or “refused to listen” (77, 68, 85, respectively). While advocates for war among the Acomans were “warmongers,” Vicente de Zaldívar employed an “experienced eye for siege warfare.” (74, 77). After a two-page discussion of Oñate's achievements, Sánchez notes, as if an afterthought, that the very existence of the Spanish population “depended on support from the Native American population” (101). The essay downplays the violence of these invasions, characterizing “some of the contacts” as “antagonistic,” while maintaining that the history is a shared “heritage that needs to be commemorated” (27, 5). The assault on Native peoples and cultures at the heart of European colonialism was just the unfortunate result of “the colonial penchant for exploitation of resources,” which “resulted in the exploitation of native peoples” (11). Presenting this history in this way ultimately minimizes the tragedies of colonization. It seems unlikely that many Pueblos would take solace from the idea that they were among the “people who pioneered [the] founding [of New Mexico]” (5).

Although there is little that is new here, the book is thoroughly researched and written in an engaging style, which gives it appeal beyond an academic audience. But in trying to see Spanish colonization on its own terms, the author commits the same historical disservice to Native people regarding representations of Spanish conquistadors and empire that he is attempting to correct.