No Mexican festivity seems complete without noisy fireworks, even the most solemn of all religious celebrations, Easter.
The fiery detonation of effigies representing Christ’s treacherous disciple — and by extension all forces of evil — is a deep-rooted national Easter custom that has maintained a place in popular culture for well over four centuries.
The Quema de Judas takes place on Holy Saturday, usually following the celebration of the late night Misa de Gloria (Glory Mass). The practice might be qualified as a mode of catharsis or comic relief, tidily slipped in between painful remembrance of Christ’s crucifixion and spiritual jubilation in celebrating the resurrection.
Historians trace the origins of the tradition to Spain, deriving from the immolation of heretics trapped in the Holy Inquisition. In Mexico’s colonial era the Judas figures were made from dry straw, a material easily set aflame. As the tradition evolved artisans in some localities began fashioning the effigies with papier maché laid over humanoid forms shaped from strips of reed. Strings of noisy firecrackers were added, assuring certain obliteration and an extra element of derision.
Originally the figures were simple representations of Judas Iscariot, the quintessential bad guy. As time passed they took on other guises of evil: sneering, horned demons painted a garish shade of red; pot-bellied charros, presumably depicting the ruthless bandidos of yesteryear; and in more recent times, public figures of national and international renown whose actions have bred contempt among the general populace.
Famed Mexican muralist Diego Rivera, a great fan of the nation’s popular arts, took a special interest in collecting Judas figures. Many examples are included in the displays of the artist’s personal effects at the Anahuacalli and Rivera Studio museums in Mexico City.
The Quema de Judas has been banned repeatedly though the country’s history, principally by over-sensitive political leaders fearful of being targeted for public ridicule. In the last fifty years the custom has completely died out in some communities. In others it has been prohibited outright due to safety and environmental concerns.
In places where the tradition prevails, crowds gather where the Judas dolls are strung up in trees or over ropes hung from lampposts. Customary venues at lakeside include the Ajijic plaza and Chapala’s Avenida Madero in front of City Hall, where blast-off starts around 11 p.m.
A sensation of anticipation builds among on-lookers as ignited fuses start to fizzle, setting off an ear-splitting explosion and unleashing laughter and revelry as the acrid veil of smoke clears to reveal tattered symbols of wickedness blown to smithereens.