Religion and Politics in the Developing World

Explosive Interactions

Rolin Mainuddin

• Editorial: Routledge
• Año: 2018
• ISBN:
  9781351750523
• Edición: 1
• Categoría: Sozialwissenschaften
• Categoría: Soziologie

This title was first published in 2002: What is the relationship between religion and politics? How are they associated in the developing world? When does the interface between them result in violence? This volume attempts to answer these questions. In particular, the objective is to understand the circumstances that lead to explosive interactions between religion and politics in the developing world. However, this focus does not imply a perpetual tension between the religious and political spheres. Rather, it explores those historical moments when the relationship does break down and often ends in violent conflicts. The contributors have expertise in fields such as anthropology, history and political science.

1 Nicaragua:
Liberation Theology as a Force for Democratic Change

DEBRA SABIA

In the last two decades Nicaragua has experienced a popular revolution, a civil war, and the international effects of an emerging new world order. Within this context, progressive Christians have played a dynamic role in working for democratic change. In the political struggle, an overwhelmingly large number of Christians found inspiration in a new form of faith: liberation theology. This chapter reviews the birth and rise of liberation theology and the role of faith in the violent interactions of both the Nicaraguan Revolution and the ensuing counter-revolutionary war. Finally, we address some of the consequences of the liberation movement in nurturing the democratic process in the contemporary Nicaraguan state.

Religion in Latin America

Religious faith plays a crucial part in promoting the values of a society and is an important component in shaping (and changing) political culture. Political culture might be understood as the basic values, ideas, and behavioral patterns governing a society (Wiarda and Kline, 1990, p. 15). Historically, the political culture of Latin America has been molded and shaped in part by the powerful influence of Roman Catholicism. This culture has been conservative, hierarchical, and authoritarian. And in Latin America, the Catholic Church had been far better at preserving antidemocratic traditions than it had been at promoting democracy.

After World War II, however, this history began to change. By the middle of the 20th century more than half of the world’s Catholics were living in underdeveloped countries in conditions of crushing poverty and spiritual decay. It was a period of contradictions. In the nations of the North, economic revitalization followed the post-World War II era. In the nations of the South, however, people continued to suffer the effects of economic regression, material deprivation, and spiritual crisis. In light of these realities Pope John XXIII called the Second Ecumenical Council (1962–1965), setting the stage for remarkable change. Pope John’s decision to host the historic and monumental conference reflected the fact that Catholicism has always been a religion explicitly concerned with the public order, and in many parts of the Catholic world public order appeared to be breaking down (Mainwaring and Wilde, 1989, pp. 21–29). Most troubling to the bishops in Latin America was the revolutionary triumph of Castro’s Cuba. Castro’s Marxist Revolution had sent a shock wave through the Catholic community. The revolution’s victory had come on the heels of increasing criticism of traditional seats of power, including regional oligarchies and military dictatorships, as well as their allies, closely associated with the church. In many sectors of Latin America the triumph of Castro’s Revolution appeared to have increased enthusiasm for radical solutions to the problems of the region. Much of this enthusiasm had to do with the failure of Christian democratic parties in bringing socio-political and economic change. In Latin America, Christian democratic parties (PDCs) had grown out of the postwar period in response to the problems of underdevelopment and antidemocratic regimes. Yet, the PDCs had little success in addressing the problems of their countries. In many cases, Christian party members were targeted for repression and death. In other instances, their leaders were coopted by the very regimes they hoped to challenge. In light of these concerns, Pope John called his spiritual leaders to Rome. The Vatican also invited members of the non-ecumenical community, including social scientists and non-theological scholars. In Rome, Pope John challenged his guests: how might the church understand the problems of underdevelopment? What was the responsibility of the clergy in these changing times? How might the church better understand its role in an increasingly troubled and de-Christianized world? The reevaluation of the church’s role that began in Rome marked a historic turning point for Catholicism worldwide. The Council not only symbolized a rethinking of the role of the church, but also represented a major shift in Catholicism’s theological formulations, liturgical practices, and understanding of its relationship with the modern world (Smith, 1991, pp. 94–98). The Vatican conference took the first important step in deviating from Catholicism’s traditional view of temporal and spiritual matters. This reinterpretation revolutionized the dualistic God-centered theology of the church’s past. Following Vatican II, things of the ‘hereafter,’ which had been the primary focus for Christians, were reoriented toward temporal matters. The church redirected its focus toward human existence on earth. At Vatican II, the bishops also accepted a new interpretation of God’s historical involvement in the world. God was discerned as an active presence in the world, working for human liberation through historical change. The Council accepted the conclusion that God’s active presence in temporal matters seeks social justice and the end to human suffering. God’s role, understood as oriented towards man, invited the church’s participation in assisting with the transformation of human life. Thus, Vatican II affirmed worldly transformation as integral to the salvation of humanity (Smith, 1991, ch. 6. Also, see Gutierrez in Cleary, 1990, pp. 9–13).

The acceptance of historical change as normal and desirable freed the church from identification with existing structures and social arrangements that degraded human worth. The Council recognized the perceived failures of Christian leadership and challenged church leaders to promote new, more active strategies in resurrecting spiritual values within the temporal structures of their states and societies (Mainwaring and Wilde, 1989, pp. 10–15). Vatican II also advocated a more participatory model in working for human rights, emphasizing the need for shared responsibility among all sectors of the Catholic community (Mainwaring and Wilde, 1989, pp. 23–29). At Vatican II, the Council challenged the faithful to work together for new sociopolitical solutions to the problems of mass poverty and deprivation (Dodson and Montgomery, 1982, p. 162). The conference’s conclusions for the Catholic world (particularly for Nicaragua) were explosive. Indeed, they were revolutionary.

Shortly following the Vatican Council the Latin American bishops were called together to address how to deal theologically and pastorally with the mandates of Rome. The issues of mass deprivation and human suffering became the theme at the Latin American Bishops Conference (CELAM) that met at Medellin in Colombia in 1968 (Christian, 1986, pp. 244–247). At Medellin, the bishops addressed how the church would define its role in working for sociopolitical change. The openness of Vatican II in the use of social science made possible alternative perspectives in analyzing the socio-economic and political malaise of the Catholic world. At CELAM, a group of young, dynamic, and enthusiastic theologians provided an analysis of Latin society that was clearly socialist in orientation (Smith, 1991, ch. 7). It was this group that successfully dominated the discourse and the direction of the conference’s conclusions. In analyzing the conditions of poverty many at Medellin insisted that the structure of injustice was largely imposed from the outside, from the capitalist system of dependency and exploitation. They denounced the system of dependency and the capitalist structure for establishing a class-based society rooted in exploitation, profit, and competition (Planas, 1986, pp. 82–85). Medellin’s denunciations of the existing sociopolitical order had revolutionary implications for the Latin American Church. By recognizing structural inequality, the conference challenged the church to work for active transformation of the capitalist system. The Latin American Church was called upon to distance itself from the centers of established power, denounce all things opposed to social justice, and commit itself to the process of human liberation (Gutierrez, 1988, pp. 68–71). Christian liberation came to be understood as freeing people not only from individual, spiritual sin, but also from the effects of human, structural sin (ignorance, hunger, misery, and oppression) imposed by a history of exploitation (Gutierrez, 1988, pp. 22–25, 171–173). Medellin stressed the need for the clergy to participate actively in the liberation process. It called on religious leaders to become involved in the social problems of the region and to dedicate themselves to promoting change.

Despite the overwhelming enthusiasm of the majority at Medellin, there remained a division within the Bishops Conference. Not everyone embraced the conclusions of the meeting. Conservatives were opposed to the implementation of the Medellin documents and even regarded Vatican II as an excessively radical break with the church’s historical past. Conservatives did not necessarily reject the need for change in the existing political and social relationships. What they questioned was the appropriate role of the church in promoting reform. Traditionally, the Catholic Church has emphasized the importance of individual morality as the proper source of change. For the conservatives, Medellin appeared to be an excessive break with that understanding (Smith, 1991, pp. 163, 189–192). Perhaps, these bishops also understood the revolutionary aspects of the conference and the threat of a liberation movement that might defy church doctrine in the name of Catholic faith.

At Medellin the church was called upon to engage the laity in a consciousness-raising evangelization. Conscientization (the development of a critical consciousness) and participation are key words that appear throughout the Medellin texts (Berryman, 1987, pp. 34–38). The goal was defined as awakening the minds of the oppressed so that by developing a critical consciousness the poor could become active agents in their struggle for liberation. Bishops at the conference recognized conscientization as the link between social and personal conversion. For that reason they recommended the promotion of these goals through a clerical identification with the poor. The challenge was to build solidarity, to promote a religious awakening that would invite participation in the process of human liberation (Gutierrez, 1988, ch. 7). The Medellin directed attention to the need for outreach programs in areas traditionally neglected by the church (Mulligan, 1991, pp. 89–98). Up until the 1960s Catholic clergy had been concentrated in colleges, schools, and wealthy parishes within the urban centers of Latin America. After Medellin that reality underwent a radical transformation. The exodus of priests and nuns to poor areas gave impetus to the establishment of thousands of small comunidades eclesiales de base (ecclesial base communities; hereafter ‘Christian base communities’ or CEBs). CEBs are small homogeneous organizations based on class, neighborhood, or village. The activity of these communities is focused on reinvigorating the Catholic faith and promoting literacy, problem-solving, Christian fellowship, and Bible study.

In the beginning there was little political content in the CEB curriculum (Sabia, 1997, pp. 29–31). As community members were taught to read the Bible from their own perspectives, however, they began to find many of their experiences reflected in the scriptures (Berryman, 1987, ch. 2). As poor people were encouraged to discuss the Bible from their own point of view, they began challenging the conventional wisdom that depicted social injustice and human exploitation as the expressed will of God. As poor people began to reinterpret their faith, they questioned the customary interpretation of Christian faith that had legitimized their suffering and oppression. This process of de-ideologizing faith eventually evolved into a highly politicized consciousness for many Catholics, especially those living and suffering in Nicaragua. In time, this gradual awakening ignited explosive interactions between the religious and political orders and served as an important source for revolutionary action.

The Church and the Nicaraguan Revolution

In Nicaragua, as elsewhere in Latin America, the environment arising from the Second Ecumenical Council and the Latin American Bishops Conference fostered a climate of change and liberation. The historical context in which the evangelization effort grew was characterized by vast poverty and human deprivation. The Nicaraguan reality was firmly rooted in the pattern of economic development of the preceding decades. It was no less a consequence of the official corruption of the Somoza dynasty that had ruled the country since the 1930s (Gilbert, 1986, pp. 88–95; Cockcroft, 1989, pp. 177–178; Booth, 1985, pp. 67–70; Christian, 1986, pp. 27–29). The Somoza dynasty had come to power with the promotion of Anastasio Somoza Garcia, a general in the newly created Nicaraguan National Guard. The infamous Guard had been created by the United States in the interest of protecting American land and business ventures in Nicaragua. The Somoza family enjoyed a positive relationship with the United States and with the Nicaraguan Church. The church’s close relationship with the dictatorship reflected the general historic dependence of the Latin American Church on ruling elites (Serra, 1986, pp. 53–57). The church’s historic privileges and institutional well-being were largely predicated on the generosity and approval of those in positions of political power. The same was true for Somoza, whose political well-being depended heavily on the favor of those in Washington.

The Nicaraguan bishops, it follows, were neither prepared to embrace the radical challenge that had been advocated at Medellin, nor ready to sever the church’s alliance with the rich and powerful. Change, however, was inevitable and it began with the turnover of ecclesiastical leadership that occurred in Nicaragua between 1968 and 1972. In Rome, a decision had been made to replace Archbishop Alejandro Gonzalez y Robelo, a staunch supporter of the Somoza Government, with a political outsider, Monsignor Miguel Obando y Bravo. The appointment of Obando sharply altered the bishops’ policy toward the Somoza regime (Booth, 1985, p. 134). That became evident when the new archbishop began issuing a series of pastoral letters that criticized the existing political order. Those letters immediately raised expectations among progressive clergy that the Nicaraguan Church would lead the struggle for political change. That was not to be the case. Despite the optimism of progressive clergy, the bishops’ criticism of the dictatorship remained conservative in tone (Williams, 1989, pp. 64–102). Archbishop Obando called for political reform, but he conspicuously avoided any criticism of Nicaragua’s socioeconomic structure. That position had important consequences for the nation-state. In Nicaragua, the Catholic bishops (hereafter, ‘the hierarchy’) would be at odds with the more radical camps developing in the country. The acrimony created schisms in the church that became explosive, fragmenting relations between the Nicaraguan hierarchy and subordinate clergy, between bishops and laity, and eventually, between the church and the state. These schisms continue to the present day.

Throughout the 1970s Christian base communities flourished in Nicaragua. As the liberation movement grew, so did political consciousness. By the 1970s the concept of human rights had begun to acquire a new and dynamic dimension, one that included the right to housing, education, social welfare, urban services, and land (Mainwaring and Wilde, 1989, pp. 1–37). Christian faith had taken on a new meaning as well: living out one’s faith had come to demand a commitment to working for change in the name of greater social justice. As Catholics mobilized to demand greater rights, however, the CEBs attracted the malice of the Somoza Government. President Somoza was not patient with challenges to his authority and Christians increasingly became the target of government violence. Nicaraguans remember the terror of National Guard raids in their communities, random searches and seizures, murder of Christian leaders, and disappearances of their youth (Sabia, 1997, ch. 4).

Somoza’s decision to repress Christian agitation had unintended consequences for the regime. One consequence of the terror was that many members of the base communities shifted their support from political reform to advocacy for insurrection. This advocacy attracted the attention of another group, Somoza’s armed opposition: the Sandinista National Liberation Front (FSLN). The FSLN, founded in 1961, had taken its name from Nicaragua’s early nationalist hero, Augusto Cesar Sandino (Christian, 1986, pp. 31–32). Sandino, a poor campesino (peasant farmer), had dedicated his life to expelling U.S. occupation forces from Nicaragua in the 1920s. His prolonged engagement in a guerrilla war against the U.S. Marines earned him great respect. His subsequent death at the hands of the rising National Guard general Anastasio Somoza also earned him the title of Nicaragua’s greatest liberation hero. Frequent victimization by Somoza’s National Guard led many progressive Christians to join the ranks of the Sandinista movement. Because the ideology of the guerrilla organization centered around the liberation of the oppressed and exploited, it resonated well with the new social Christian thinking exhibited in liberation theology (Girardi, 1989, ch. 7). The FSLN was leading a class struggle: a homegrown variety of Marxism that appeared to be in touch with the democratic, popular dimension of Marxist thought as well as the popular demands of the liberation theology movement (O’Brien, 1986, pp. 55–57; Girardi, 1989, ch. 4). Sandinismo (Sandinista ideology) therefore attracted the attention of many progressive clergy, particularly those working with the base communities. Priests attracted to the Sandinista struggle included Fathers Fernando Cardenal and Uriel Molina. In Nicaragua, Cardenal and Molina had founded the growing Christian student movement. In time both men became important actors in channeling youth support for the revolutionary movement (Girardi, 1989, p. 89).

It is important to recall that in the post-Vatican II climate, poverty was being acknowledged among progressive elements in the church as more than just a historical accident. Christian intellectuals were acknowledging the fact that poverty was a product of faulty societal and economic structures, and they advocated the need to replace the individualistic, selfish priorities of capitalism with the social principles of a common community ethic. Thus, many progressive elements in the church found intellectual accommodation with the Marxist thinking of the Sandinista leaders. For the Sandinistas, early contact with the liberation clergy was primarily tactical. The FSLN leadership was very conscious of the fact that they needed a strong, broad-based movement to carry out their struggle and recognized the usefulness of the Christian movement for that purpose (Randall, 1983, pp. 132–133. Also, see Girardi, 1989, ch. 2). It was obvious that the Sandinista Front could not work openly in Nicaragua. In contrast, the Christian movement had the freedom to do so. It was not lost on the Sandinista leadership that the CEB leaders could advocate the need for radical change and still be protected by the power of the Cross. The grass-roots church was also extraordinarily special because its leaders could move beyond the poor to include contact with members of the elite. For the Sandinistas, this too, would be an invaluable channel for propagating their revolutionary ideology.

Initial meetings between the Sandinistas and progressive clergy led to further and broader contact in the months to come. Some of the more radicalized clergy and laity joined the guerrilla force while others used their homes as safehouses for the rebels, or provided food, shelter, medicine, and ammunition (Sabia, 1997, ch. 4). That cooperation fostered a genuine affinity between t...