How we cite our quotes: (Part.Chapter.Paragraph)
Quote #7
The priest's inquisitorial instincts suffered but little from the want of classical apparatus of the Inquisition. At no time of the world's history have men been at a loss how to inflict mental and bodily anguish upon their fellow-creatures. This aptitude came to them in the growing complexity of their passions and the early refinement of their ingenuity. But it may safely be said that primeval man did not go to the trouble of inventing tortures. He was indolent and pure of heart. He brained his neighbour ferociously with a stone axe from necessity and without malice. The stupidest mind may invent a rankling phrase or brand the innocent with a cruel aspersion. (III.4.25)
Primitivism actually emerges as preferable here to being more advanced, when it comes to inventing torture devices. Kind of makes you wonder who's more primitive—the "primeval man" or his modern, torture-happy equivalent?
Quote #8
The popular lore of all nations testifies that duplicity and cunning, together with bodily strength, were looked upon, even more than courage, as heroic virtues by primitive mankind. To overcome your adversary was the great affair of life. Courage was taken for granted. But the use of intelligence awakened wonder and respect. (III.5.2)
The narrator is musing about mankind's "progress" from simply valuing strength to being impressed by intelligence. We put "progress" in quotes, however, because in the next paragraph, we hear that things have circled back around: intelligence no longer gets respect, which you can tell because people are willing to follow dudes like Montero.
Quote #9
He had been one of the first immigrants into this valley; his sons and sons-in-law worked within the mountain which seemed with its treasures to pour down the thundering ore shoots of the upper mesa, the gifts of well-being, security, and justice upon the toilers. He listened to the news from the town with curiosity and indifference, as if concerning another world than his own. And it was true that they appeared to him so. In a very few years the sense of belonging to a powerful organization had been developed in these harassed, half-wild Indians. They were proud of, and attached to, the mine. It had secured their confidence and belief. They invested it with a protecting and invincible virtue as though it were a fetish made by their own hands, for they were ignorant, and in other respects did not differ appreciably from the rest of mankind which puts infinite trust in its own creations. It never entered the alcalde's head that the mine could fail in its protection and force. (III.6.8)
The narrator's portrayal of the local alcalde (and the other locals, too) is not super positive; he/they seems pretty disinterested in matters that directly affect them. This portrayal of the indigenous population as simple is, of course, incredibly problematic and overly simple itself. That's racism in a nutshell, though: problematic and dumb.