CALIFORNIA ALBUM : At the Altar of Public Opinion : San Jose’s sculpture of an Aztec deity honors a culture’s history, city leaders say. But fundamentalist Christians call the feathered serpent a symbol of evil that invites God’s wrath.

Here in the city of St. Joseph, an ancient god has arrived, evoking discord among the populace and transforming ordinary mortals into art critics.

The plumed serpent known as Quetzalcoatl, an Aztec god said to date back 3,200 years, has been reborn in downtown San Jose as an eight-foot-tall stone sculpture. City leaders, who unveiled the work of art earlier this month, say its presence honors the indigenous people of Mexico and Central America--and their descendants who live in San Jose today.

But with the ethnic divisiveness of Proposition 187 in the air, the sculpture by noted Los Angeles artist Robert Graham also has sparked a great debate over the place of Latinos in ancient history--and in modern-day San Jose.

The strongest protests have come from fundamentalist Christians, who predict that the monument to the pagan deity will provoke the wrath of their God, triggering violence among men and wreaking havoc on their city.

“We believe an idol like this put in the middle of a city center can bring God’s judgment on a city,” said Chet Gallagher, whose small Word in Warfare Christian sect held a four-day vigil near the sculpture last weekend, reading the Bible out loud from start to finish.

Latino leaders welcome the sculpture as one of the few symbols in California honoring the civilization that flourished in what is now Southern Mexico and Guatemala long before the Spanish conquerors arrived.

“Let us acknowledge the true history of America,” said playwright Luis Valdez at the ceremony unveiling the sculpture. “This is an indigenous monument that celebrates the roots of American culture.”

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San Jose, the largest California city north of Los Angeles, originally planned to honor not Quetzalcoatl but Capt. Thomas Fallon, who in 1846 was the first to raise the United States flag over the city, then part of Mexico.

The idea of erecting a statue of Fallon, however, aroused strong opposition from Latino residents, who make up a quarter of the city’s population. They called on the city to sponsor public art honoring San Jose’s Latino heritage, not just its colonial past.

Then, when city leaders agreed to celebrate Quetzalcoatl (pronounced ketz-ul-KWAT-il), fundamentalist Christians began to protest, maintaining that the feathered serpent was a bloodthirsty god who demanded human sacrifices of his worshipers. They claim that the Aztecs cut out the hearts of adults, children and babies in ritual sacrifices to Quetzalcoatl.

But scholars who have studied the Aztecs, Mayans and other cultures of Mesoamerica say the historic record has nothing to indicate that Quetzalcoatl was worshiped with offerings of human sacrifice--unlike other important gods of the era.

“I think there is a real case of mistaken identity,” said Renato Rosaldo, chairman of the anthropology department at Stanford University.

“I would like to see their proof,” agreed Rosemary Joyce, professor of anthropology at UC Berkeley.

In the history of Mesoamerica, Quetzalcoatl is a complex figure.

As far back as 1200 BC, there are signs of the plumed serpent, which represented the joining of heaven and earth--the bird and the snake. Unlike Christianity, which sees the serpent as a symbol of evil, the Aztec culture considered the feathered snake a symbol of fertility and the earth’s renewal after the long dry season.

Quetzalcoatl was associated with the discovery of corn, the invention of writing and the discovery of metallurgy. In the great cities of the Aztecs, he was the god who brought order to urban spaces. Quetzalcoatl also was the title taken by some priests.

The Aztecs believed that Quetzalcoatl would come back to Earth one day. When Spanish conquistador Hernando Cortes arrived in 1519, the Aztecs welcomed him, believing he was their returning god.

Before the Spanish invasion, human sacrifice was an important part of Aztec culture and represented the ultimate willingness to give oneself to the gods. In this, the Aztecs were following the example of their deities, such as the god who first caused the sun to rise by leaping into a fire and sacrificing himself.

But respected anthropologists agree that there is no evidence linking human sacrifice to Quetzalcoatl. Indeed, according to one legend, Quetzalcoatl was the name of a great Toltec ruler who argued against the practice of human sacrifice and called instead for the sacrifice of flowers.

For the modern-day descendants of the Aztec, Mayan and Toltec peoples, Quetzalcoatl has come to symbolize the advanced civilization that existed long before the Spanish conquest.

As playwright Valdez put it: “Quetzalcoatl is as proud and deep and as ancient as the history of America itself. His spirit is embedded in the very earth, in the very mountains, in the very plants of this ancient hemisphere.”

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Wearing a cloak against the chill and holding a Bible between her hands as if in prayer, Marie Allen walked slowly in circles around the sculpture of Quetzalcoatl. To the former Jehovah’s Witness, the plumed serpent represents Satan.

“I thought I could come here and walk around it like the walls of Jericho,” she said with a half-smile, “and it would come tumbling down.”

Nearby, half a dozen Christians huddled on folding chairs, looking every bit like campers at a tailgate party, reading the Bible aloud.

Ed Kelly, a high school Spanish teacher, broke away from the group to explain his outrage that Quetzalcoatl would find a place in San Jose, the city named after St. Joseph.

“This was a pagan god,” Kelly said. “The worship of this god led them to unnatural, evil ways of life. To put that statue there is inimical to what I think we should be doing.”

Since the arrival of Quetzalcoatl, a steady stream of people have come to downtown San Jose to see for themselves what all the fuss is about.

Mounted on a circular concrete base, the feathered serpent sits in a large traffic island on the south end of Plaza de Cesar Chavez, a park recently renamed for the late farm labor leader.

As a work of art, the sculpture has gotten mediocre reviews from many members of the public, who say the dark, stone serpent looks more like a tractor tire than an Aztec god.

Some taxpayers are none too pleased that the city spent $500,000 for the cast stone creation--and did not receive the 25-foot-tall bronze piece originally commissioned from Graham for the same price.

“I think it’s really ugly,” said William Eberhardt, a San Jose machinist. “How much did they pay for it? Half a million dollars? What a rip-off.”

Nevertheless, the sculpture has achieved one of its goals: promoting awareness of the ancient civilizations of early America. Gathered around Quetzalcoatl, total strangers talked with one another about the meaning of the sculpture and its place in San Jose.

“Finally there is going to be some dignity, some respect,” said Mike Correa, a Chicano businessman from nearby Gilroy. “It’s going to bring more recognition to Mesoamerica. I love it.”

But Evelyn Martinez, an eighth-generation resident of San Jose, and president of Los Fundadores, a group honoring the city’s founders, thinks otherwise. “I don’t think it represents the people of San Jose,” she said. “I think they would have done better to put up a statue of Cesar Chavez. He did something to help the people.”