Codex Mendoza is a pictographic and alphabetic book produced in Mexico City, formerly the Aztec capital of México-Tenochtitlan, between 1542 and 1555 at the latest. From its origin it was conceived to be sent to Europe as a demonstration of the splendor and civilization of the empire of the Mexica (the correct name for Aztecs), characterized according to the values of the times by its “policía y buen gobierno”, “polity and good governance”. The Codex is divided into three distinct but well articulated sections. The first tells the history of the Mexica empire and its royal dynasty; the second, presents an exhaustive list and atlas detailing all the tributes received by the Empire; and the third contains a description of the civilized family life, lawful customs and hierarchical social institutions of the Aztecs before the conquest. The pictographic pages of the document strictly follow the visual and narrative conventions of other Aztec and Mesoamerican written and visual histories. An alphabetic text Spanish explains and narrates each pictographic page, and was accorded equal space in the original planning of the book. In the 18th century Francisco Clavijero attributed the patronage of this work to Viceroy Antonio de Mendoza, the first such ruler of New Spain (1535-1549) and called it Códice Mendoza, a name that has become universal. However, most recent authors have refuted this direct attribution. An annotation on the last page of the document provides us with invaluable and contradictory information about the authorship of the Codex: El estilo grosero e interpretación de lo figurado en esta historia supla el lector, porque no se dio lugar al interpretador de ningún vagar y como cosa no acordada ni pensada se interpretó a uso de proceso. Así mismo en donde van nombrados alfaquí mayor y alfaquí novicio fue inadvertencia del interpretador poner tales nombres que son moriscos. Ha se de entender por el alfaquí mayor, sacerdote mayor y por el novicio, sacerdote novicio. Y donde van nombrados mezquitas ha se de entender por templos. Diez días antes de la partida de la flota se dio al interpretador esta historia para que la interpretase el cual descuido fue de los indios que acordaron tarde y como cosa de corrida no se tuvo punto en el estilo que convenía interpretarse, ni se dio lugar para que se sacara en limpio limando los vocablos y orden que convenía y aunque las interpretaciones van toscas no se ha de tener nota sin vala sustancia de las aclaraciones, lo que significan las figuras, las cuales van bien declaradas por ser como es el interpretador de ellas buena lengua mexicana. The reader must make up for the rough style and the interpretation of the drawings in this history. Because the interpreter did not have time or work at all slowly; and because it was a matter neither agreed upon nor thought about, it was interpreted as is done in a [legal] process. Likewise, it was a mistake for the interpreter to use the Morisco words alfaquí mayor and alfaquí novicio. Sacerdote mayor, should be understood instead of alfaqui mayor, and sacerdote novicio for the novice. And where mezquitas is written, templos is to be understood. The interpreter was given this history ten days prior to the departure of the fleet, this carelessness is the fault of the Indians, who came to agreement late; and so it was done in haste and there was no way to find a style suitable for the interpretation, nor was it any place for making a clean copy polishing the words and presenting the suitable order. And although the interpretations are crude, one should not dismiss the substance of the explanations that explain the meaning of the drawings, which are correctly presented, because the interpreter of them is well versed in the Mexican language. I read this comment in full because it is key to my whole reading of the Codex and allows to identify the different participants in the process of writing the book: —The Aztec tlacuilome who painted the pictography and who took their time. We can assume they had full control in the elaboration of the initial part of the Codex, the pictographic plates. —Other members of the native elite who “came to agreement late” about the contents of the oral history that should accompany the visual history, but finally presented both to the interpreter in a performance. —The interpreter ,who translated the Aztec oral and visual discourses from their native Náhuatl into Spanish as “is done in a legal process” and using “Morisco words”. —Also, clearly, a scribe who wrote down the translation of the interpreter, and also the final comment, without having “place” to “polish” the words. —Finally, I propose that the final commentary, dismissing the Moorish words, could not have been made by the interpreter nor but the scribe, but was dictated another official who took a dim view of their work. I will call him the “nameless bureaucrat”. Besides the actors mentioned in these text we can also assume that the book was commissioned by or produced unter the patronage of some Spanish authority or authorities (possibly Viceroy Mendoza himself). They put pressure for it to be ready in time to leave with the fleet. The Nameless bureaucrat could have been one them, or one of their rivals in the Viceregal administration, as we shall see. This comment, even in its dismissiveness, demonstrates the complex nature of this intercultural product. It is at the same time a masterly instance of Mesoamerican pictographic writing and visual narration, and a fully functioning and perfectly understandable book in Spanish language in the Latin script, including Morisco words. Indeed from its conception the book accorded both systems of writing equal space and importance, in an attempt to establish their equivalence. This parity served to demonstrate that Mesoamerican pictographies were a perfectly translatable system of writing, and thus could be utilized as a legitimate source for the transmiting historical and juridical truths. So in a sense, this book is not simply a translation of the history of the Mexica, but also a brilliant demonstration of the validity of their pictographic writing. It also showcases the abilities of both Mexica tlacuilome and Viceregal interpreters to carry out valid legal translations between this writing system and Latin script. Finally, the text contains Moorish elements that should not be there according to the commentator. So why were there Morisco words involved in this process of translation between Náhuatl and Spanish and between Mesoamerican and Latin scripts in New Spain in the 1540s? And why would that be a problem? Let us first detail the process of elaboration of the Spanish text. First of all the translation was done “a uso de proceso”, “as if in a [legal] process”. This means that it was neither a written translation of another written text in Náhuatl, nor a copy of a previously extant text in Spanish, but rather a transcript of an oral presentation, such as the ones carried out in a trial where participants argued their cases and presented written and visual evidence to support it. Such presentations were also a central feature of Mesoamerican historical traditions, which conjoined the exhibition of visual and pictographic histories with the recitation of oral traditions in highly ritualized performances. We can assume that some kind of such performance was carried for the translation of this book. This means also that the interpreter and scribe knew how to utilize the prevalent practices, technologies and conventions for the elaboration of this kind of transcripts in legal settings, most likely because they worked in the Viceregal tribunals. Secondly, the whole process of writing down the abundant and detailed information, extending to 35 folios of tightly written Spanish text, amounting to over 145,000 characters, was carried out in just 10 days. A recent analysis of the handwriting, by Jorge Gómez-Tejeda and Barbara Mundy, confirms this information. According to the nameless bureaucrat his meant that the interpreter had to work in haste and this led him to employ Morisco terms to refer to Aztec religious priests and temples. This would suggest that these terms were normally used in legal translations contexts to establish equivalences between Indigenous institutions and Muslim ones. In order to complement these elements, we need to take into account the following precedents: In the Iberian peninsula between the 8th and 15th centuries, Islamic and Christian rulers, judges and intellectuals had been constantly obliged to read and translate juridical and other documents written in Latin, Arabic and Hebrew script. Therefore they developed techniques for translation that involved not only the recognition and knowledge of different languages and systems of writing, but also of different juridical and governmental traditions firmly rooted in their respective religions. In order to adjudicate and rule, they developed a common ground between them, or rather a set of equivalences that glossed over, or set aside, their religious differences. The negotiation of non-religious equivalences between Christian, Muslim and Hebrew customs and juridical institutions, as well as other forms of knowledge, was fundamental for governance and for the working of these multicultural societies. We know that Spanish explorers and conquistadors brought with them interpreters and translators that spoke Hebrew and Arabic, regarded as potential universal languages also spoken in the Indies. These interpreters were the heirs of the long established Iberian tradition of coexistence of translating between these languages and their respective scripts. We also know that Viceroy Antonio de Mendoza was the son of Íñigo de Mendoza, who had been Capitán general of the recently conquered Islamic caliphate of Granada, the last remnant of the Islamic regimes in the Iberian peninsula.