Rain and the Rhinoceros

Although the phenomenon commonly known as “liberation theology” is extremely diverse, there seems to be some common methodological threads running through the work of its proponents. What I want to highlight here is how self-proclaimed liberation theologians almost always identify experience as a highly appropriate methodological starting-point for theology. In particular, for many liberation theologians the experience of the poor, the suffering, the oppressed, is primary and methodologically fundamental. In much of the literature, the role of experience becomes such a priority that it is identified as the central criterion of adjudicating between good and bad theologies. If theology does not directly and explicitly address the plight of the poor and complicity of the rich in oppressive policies, than theology is seen as, ultimately, irrelevant to the poor, and irrelevant to politics. For much of liberation theology the emphasis is on the priority of praxis over theory. It does not assert that theory is unimportant, it is just simply accorded a secondary role. In the words of Jon Sobrino, “theology is a second act, within and in the presence of a reality.” Liberation theology is thus essentially reactive–it is a reaction, in the mode of reflection–on both the concrete experiences of an oppressed people and God’s revelation in Christ.

(Caveat: I am aware of the generalizations taking place in this post. Liberation theology is not univocal and I don’t want to treat it as such, but I’m trying to draw out some key elements that I’ve noticed in much of the literature).

Here’s my question: Doesn’t the role accorded to experience, as the primary theological category, appear deeply strange and problematic when liberation theologians watch it receive equally high status as it is employed to bolster the efforts of right-wing ideologues?

The debate, then, becomes centered on questions of experience–which quickly heads into who has the best evidence from the social sciences to prove, for instance, that collectivism works better than capitalism to relieve poverty, to create happiness and wealth, etc.

For those of us influenced by Barth, or more broadly what is some times referred to as “postliberalism” a la George Lindbeck, or for those influenced by MacIntyre or Milbank–even for those of us who have been influenced by Foucault and the geneaological tradition, we tend to find ourselves quite skeptical of appeals to experience to ground or frame theology. Interestingly, many of these thinkers also claim to stand firmly on the radical Left.

Let me be clear, when I say experience I do not mean to suggest that we really have a choice in the matter. I am not suggesting that we can somehow choose to not use experience in our theological reasoning. Of course, we are all shaped by and use our experience. It is totally absurd to think that we can reflect outside of our own particular history. What I am calling into question is something altogether different–it is the specific move made by much of liberation theology (a move which seems to me to owe more than a little to modern theological liberalism and therefore also to capitalism) that sees experience–or the natural–as more fundamental than revelation.

Again, I want to make clear that my concerns about liberation theology come from a very specific place. I am highly sympathetic to their concerns, but I am highly skeptical of their method at times. This became clear to me at this years AAR Consultation of Liberation Theology session. I’m not going to get into the details here, but I got the feeling that if this is the future of liberation theology it is doomed. If liberation theology works within a framework of modern theological liberalism it is finally a doomed enterprise. I say this because of my conviction that modern theological liberalism is disciplined by capitalist logic through and through, which is of course the very thing liberation theology seeks to resist.

There is an “atheism” that is closer at hand and more dangerous to our church. It is the atheism of capitalism, in which material possessions are set up as idols and take God’s place. Here, in a capitalism that idolizes money and “human goods”, is a danger for us as serious as the other, and perhaps more than the other, which gets the blame for all evils. Which is more serious: to deny God out of a false idea of human liberation, or to deny him out of selfishness raised to the level of idolatry? Who are the greater hypocrites, those who believe in this world to the point of denying openly what is transcendent, or those who use what is transcendent and religious as a tool and justification for their idolatry of the earth? 

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Therefore, dear brothers and sisters, especially those of you who hate me, you who have hands stained with murder, with torture, with atrocity, with injustice – be converted. I love you deeply. I am sorry for you because you go on the way to ruin.

I address those who have caused so many injustices and acts of violence, those who have brought tears to so many homes, those who have stained themselves with the blood of so many murders, those who have hands soiled with tortures, those who have calloused their consciences, who are unmoved to see under their boots a person abased, suffering, perhaps ready to die. To all them I say: no matter your crimes. They are ugly and horrible, and you have abased the highest dignity of a human person, but God calls you and forgives you. And here perhaps arises the aversion of those who feel they are laborers from the first hour. How can I be in heaven with those criminals? Brothers and sisters, in heaven there are no criminals. The greatest criminal, once he has repented of his sins, is now a child of God.

- Archbishop Oscar Romero

The attempt to relate the message of liberation theology to the middle-class church of the United States is replete with difficulties. The primary reason for this is that liberation theology is most fundamentally the cry of the poor and the oppressed, and the United States is the richest and most powerful country in the world. Indeed, the United States has been the target of much criticism from the mouths of liberation theologians, not least for its unwavering support of oppressive regimes in Latin America, the birthplace of modern day liberation theology. For this reason, the church in the United States has not been free from the criticisms launched by liberation theology either. From the perspective of liberation theologians, the middle and upper classes of the United States have been complicit in the policies of oppression that have plagued Latin America and much of the developing world. In the eyes of liberationists, the church in the United States does not have a good record of resisting such policies. This paper will explore the challenge that liberation theology poses to the church in the United States and First World Christians in general.

To be fair, there is a significant, albeit small, portion of the middle-class church in the United States that supports efforts of liberation in Latin America and other impoverished parts of the world. Although there is still much work yet to be done by way of communicating the message of liberation theology to the First World, a concerted effort has been made to relay the present plight of much of the world’s population. For instance, on a number of occasions John Paul II addressed the need for Christians living in the First World to stand in solidarity with poor. As a result of the growing recognition of the phenomenon of globalization, recent Catholic social thought has also emphasized the need for solidarity and continues to advocate “the preferential option for the poor.” Indeed, the Catholic social tradition is filled with incisive social critiques. In many ways, Rerum novarum prefigured and set the stage for liberation theology. Eighty years later with the liberationists in mind Pope Paul VI addressed the “flagrant inequalities that exist in the economic, cultural, and political development of nations” and called for all Christians to be actively involved in social reform (Brady 2).

The official teaching of the Catholic church has also been quite critical of certain elements of liberation theology, particularly its dependence on Marxism. Drawing from Marx’s critique of capitalism, many liberationists have advocated the abolition of private property, which runs against much of the tradition of Catholic social thought. The Vatican has also been critical of support for violent modes of resistance, which has not always been absent from liberation theology. As Brady points out, “A key point for critics of Liberation Theology was its ambiguity on the question of violence and revolution” (Brady 15). In my estimation, there is no doubt that the magisterium’s sharp criticism of some elements of liberation theology has had the unfortunate effect of stifling communication of the core challenge that liberation theology poses to First World Christians. Although the magisterium’s criticisms are often theologically justified, they nonetheless tend to provide First World Christians with a convenient way out of any feeling of moral culpability.

In response to the accusation that liberation theology supports violence, Dom Helder Camara argues that people living in poverty suffer from systemic violence. He writes, “It is common knowledge that poverty kills just as surely as the most bloody war. . . Look closely at the injustices in the underdeveloped countries, in the relations between the developed world and the underdeveloped world. You will find that everywhere the injustices are a form of violence. One can and must say that they are everywhere the basic violence No. 1″(Brady 16). Camara’s argument has the effect of turning the question of violence onto the First World Christians. He laments, “The young are losing confidence in the churches, which affirm beautiful principles, great texts, remarkable conclusions, but without ever deciding, at least so far, to translate them into real life” (Brady 16). Camara refers to the resistance of “violence No. 1″ as “violence No. 2.” He writes, “Let us repeat fearlessly and ceaselessly: injustices bring revolt” (Brady 16). The common response of governments, in the name of public order and national security, is to respond with violent repression, “violence No. 3.” Camara concludes, “If violence is met by violence, the world will fall into a spiral of violence; the only true answer to violence is to have the courage to face the injustices that constitute violence No. 1″ (Brady 17).

Camara’s conclusion poses a challenge to First World Christians and especially middle-class Christians living in the United States. In response to liberation theology and the teachings of the Catholic social tradition, many First World Christians seek to live in solidarity with the poor in Latin America and around the world. Indeed, when First World Christians read stories from the liberationists about the plight of the Third World, we are moved and feel a sense of compassion. When we read the accounts of Archbishop Oscar Romero taking a stand against injustice, we admire his courage and there is a real sense in which we would like to stand with him. All of this is good, however, what we sometimes forget is that we are the oppressors! We, by virtue of being First World Christians play a part in the spiral of violence. The challenge of Camara’s argument to First World Christians is that we are violence No. 1.

For Christians in the United States it is crucial to remember that the neo-liberal economic models imposed on Latin America, the torture techniques of the counterinsurgency, and many of the weapons used to commit atrocities in the region, come from the United States. It would be disingenuous for us therefore to simply state that we are in solidarity with Latin Americans, without recognizing the part we play in the grave injustices. In his letter Paul condemns the Corinthians for worshipping idols (10:14-21) and eating while others go hungry (11:21-22), for “there is one bread, we who are many are one body, for we all partake of the one bread” (10:17). William Cavanaugh reflects on what this might mean for First World Christians. He writes, “Discerning the body must mean being able to identify truthfully where the body is not whole, where divisions exist.” When the church discerns the body the divisions that exist are made clear. Fortunately, as Cavanaugh points out, “our eucharistic communion gives us hope that this is not the final word. Besides shining a light on the divisions that exist, discerning the body includes an exercise in dissolving those divisions, blurring the lines between ‘them’ and ‘us.’” The plight of the Latin Americans of which the liberationists speak also truly becomes the plight of the First World Christians. As Cavanaugh states, “Christ invites us to experience that suffering as our suffering, suffering that takes place in our very body. What a difference that would make in the tolerance we have for the outrages done in our name.”

It helps, now and then, to step back and take a long view. The kingdom is not only beyond our efforts, it is even beyond our vision. We accomplish in our lifetime only a tiny fraction of the magnificent enterprise that is God’s work. Nothing we do is complete, which is a way of saying that the kingdom always lies beyond us. No statement says all that could be said. No prayer fullyexpresses our faith. No confession brings perfection. No pastoral visit brings wholeness. No program accomplishes the church’s mission. No set of goals and objectives includes everything. This is what we are about. We plant the seeds that one-day will grow. We water seeds already planted, knowing that they hold future promise. We lay foundations that will need further development. We provide yeast that produces far beyond our capabilities. We cannot do everything, and there is a sense of liberation in realizing that. This enables us to do something, and to do it very well. It may be incomplete, but it is a beginning, a step along the way, an opportunity for the Lord’s grace to enter and do the rest. We may never see the end results, but that is the difference between the master builder and the worker. We are workers, not master builders; ministers, not messiahs. We are prophets of a future not our own.Amen.

Attributed to Archbishop Romero, written by Bishop Kenneth Untener

Bolivia’s Newly Elected Leader Maps His Socialist AgendaBy JUAN FOREROLA PAZ, Bolivia, Dec. 19 -After his decisive win in the election for president on Sunday, the Socialist indigenous leader, Evo Morales, vowed Monday to respect private property but repeated his pledge to increase state control over the energy industry and reverse an American-backed crusade against coca, the plant used to make cocaine.Wearing his trademark black jeans and tennis shoes, Mr. Morales arrived in La Paz to begin laying the groundwork for an economic and political transformation that he says will give voice to the poor, indigenous majority that fueled his campaign. “The voice of the people is the voice of God,” he said late Sunday.Mr. Morales, 46, a former small-town trumpeter and soccer player who turned a movement of coca farmers into the country’s most potent political force, stunned his countrymen on Sunday by burying seven challengers in the most important election since Bolivia’s transition from dictatorship to democracy a generation ago.Unofficial results showed that Mr. Morales won up to 52 percent of the vote to become the first Indian president in Bolivia’s 180-year history, a victory that solidifies a continent-wide shift of governments to the left.”For the first time a candidate wins with 50 percent plus 1, and it’s the biggest margin between the first two finishers,” said Gonzalo Chávez, an economist and political analyst at Catholic University in La Paz. “This is a democratic revolution. The voting was tremendously strong, and signifies a tremendous demand for change in Bolivia.”President Hugo Chávez of Venezuela and President Néstor Kirchner of Argentina, two of the continent’s leading left-leaning leaders, quickly offered their congratulations, as did Chile, Spain and the European Union.The United States tried to discredit Mr. Morales in the past by alleging ties to drug trafficking, and ended up increasing his popularity. The administration offered cautious congratulations to Mr. Morales and to the Bolivian people “for carrying out a successful election.”But American officials acknowledged that they viewed his presidency with serious concern, while insisting that they would wait to see how he actually governed.A State Department official noted that Bolivia had experienced several years of chaos in government, “and now they have chosen a leader and still have a constitutional process.” adding, “We have to respect that, whatever else Morales has said.” He declined to be identified, citing department policy.Mr. Morales’s party, the Movement Toward Socialism, won nearly half the 27 seats in the Senate and up to half the 130 seats in the lower house. Unofficial figures showed the MAS, as the party is known, also won at least two of nine governorships.Podemos, the party of Jorge Quiroga, a former president, finished a distant second. Three other traditional parties practically disappeared from the national scene.The MAS is now poised to push through legislation tightening the terms on British Gas, Repsol YPF of Spain, Petrobras of Brazil and other foreign energy companies operating here. Mr. Morales has promised to “nationalize” the lucrative natural gas industry, not by expropriating it, but rather by expanding state control over operations, policy and the commercialization of gas.”The government will exercise its right to state ownership of Bolivia’s hydrocarbons,” he said Monday.Foreign oil companies have in the past said that financially onerous terms could prompt them to cut back on investments, which have fallen from $608 million in 1998 to $200 million last year. But on Monday, Ronald Fessy, spokesman for the Bolivian Hydrocarbon Chamber, said it was too soon to predict.”Governments have to be seen in action, not in times of campaigning,” he said. “We hope that this government will work to achieve scenarios that would lead to policies that are good for investments that this industry and Bolivia urgently need.”Mr. Morales has also pledged to reverse Bolivia’s longstanding alliance with the United States in the generation-long fight against drugs, which has greatly curtailed the coca planting but has set off politically volatile uprisings by coca farmers. Mr. Morales and his followers say much of Bolivia’s coca goes for traditional uses, to be chewed or used in tea, while Washington says most of it becomes cocaine.”The fight against drug trafficking is a false pretext for the United States to install military bases,” Mr. Morales told reporters on Monday.Even with the mandate from voters, Mr. Morales is not expected to have an easy time in a country rocked by years of social protests fueled by inequality and poverty.He will be under pressure to ensure that the country’s budding exports of textiles and furniture continue, while answering to indigenous leaders who seek radical change. Some social movements have vowed to apply pressure. The Bolivian Workers Central, the country’s largest labor confederation, said the government would have to expropriate private energy installations from private companies, or face the kind of protests that forced out two presidents since 2003.”He has to make changes or he falls,” Jaime Solares, the head of the confederation, said in an interview.In the main square of La Paz, where one president was lynched on a lamppost in 1946, most people seemed tired of protests and wanted to give Mr. Morales a chance .”We have to give him some time,” said Martín Bautista, 35, a truck driver. “I feel happy because here a lot of things are about to change.”Copyright 2005The New York Times Company

On Friday morning we left for Fort Benning, Georgia to protest the School of the Americas and to remember the victims of massacres carried out by graduates of the SOA. We arrived on Saturday morning for a rally. Many people came out to the rally and there were many booths with representatives from various peace organizations. We spent the morning and afternoon walking around to the booths, taking pictures, and listening to speakers. Later that evening, I went to a Catholic mass held in a big tent by the river separating Georgia and Alabama. The message was powerful and I received the eucharist (risky!). The next day we attended the major event of the weekend, the vigil, where thousands of the names of victims were sung. In response to each name song, the people sang back, “Presente,” or “I am here, I am present.” It was a time of rememberance and a time of contemplation. It was a powerful experience. Fort Benning Road was blocked off for the 20,000 protesters and we processed in one circle. Each person had an opportunity to reach the fence of the SOA (actually, there are two fences put up before the real fence). People put crosses on the fence with the names of victims killed by graduates of the SOA.

Earlier this year I was able to take part in a reenactment of the murder of six Jesuit Priests, their Housekeeper, and her daughter. I was the soldier in the reenactment. When I went to each person and put a gun to their head and as they fell, the reality hit home to me. I realized that I have took part and am taking part in the killing of innocents. I am in some ways responsible for these deaths. My complicity is a support to the SOA. I am proud to say that I am no longer complicit to this terrorist training camp. I am no longer complicit to U.S. backed death squads. Standing next to Marcia, among 20,000 others most of whom were other Christians, I sensed the power of solidarity and nonviolence. This cannot continue in my name as a U.S. citizen; and, as a Christian I will work for peace and justice.

Marcia and I are going down to Fort Benning, Georgia along with a group from St. Thomas to expose destructive U.S. Foreign policy by protesting U.S. Army of the School of the Americas. Our intentions are to shut down the school.

From SOA Watch:

The School of the Americas (SOA), in 2001 renamed the “Western Hemisphere Institute for Security Cooperation,” is a combat training school for Latin American soldiers, located at Fort Benning, Georgia.

Initially established in Panama in 1946, it was kicked out of that country in 1984 under the terms of the Panama Canal Treaty. Former Panamanian President, Jorge Illueca, stated that the School of the Americas was the “biggest base for destabilization in Latin America.” The SOA, frequently dubbed the “School of Assassins,” has left a trail of blood and suffering in every country where its graduates have returned.

Over its 59 years, the SOA has trained over 60,000 Latin American soldiers in counterinsurgency techniques, sniper training, commando and psychological warfare, military intelligence and interrogation tactics. These graduates have consistently used their skills to wage a war against their own people. Among those targeted by SOA graduates are educators, union organizers, religious workers, student leaders, and others who work for the rights of the poor. Hundreds of thousands of Latin Americans have been tortured, raped, assassinated, “disappeared,” massacred, and forced into refugee by those trained at the School of Assassins.

The 1989 University of Central America Massacre

“Sources at the [SOA] say that when…soldiers go through the urban-combat exercise with blanks in their weapons, half the time the village priest (played by a U.S. Army chaplain) is killed or roughed up.”
–Newsweek Magazine, August 9, 1993

“Many of the critics [of the SOA] supported Marxism — Liberation Theology — ;which was defeated with the assistance of the U.S. Army.”
– United States Army School of the Americas web page, June, 1999

On the night of November 16, 1989, a Salvadoran Army patrol entered the University of Central America in San Salvador and massacred six Jesuit priests, their housekeeper and her daughter. Nineteen of the military officers cited for this atrocity have received training at the US Army School of the Americas.

Martyrs of the University of Central America

Ignacio Ellacuria, rector of the University and an outspoken critic of the Army

Ignacio Martin Baro, who studied the effects of war on the human psyche

Segundo Montes, a strong advocate for refugees and human rights

Amano Lopez, a gifted counselor and pastoral worker

Joaquin Lopez y Lopez, director of an education program in poor communities

Juan Ramon Moreno, a gifted preacher and retreat leader

Elba Ramos, the Jesuits’ housekeeper, remembered as sensitive and intuitive

Celina Ramos, Elba’s 14-year-old daughter who had worked as a catechist

SOA Graduates that Participated in, Planned, or Covered-up the Massacre

1LT Yusshy Rene Mendoza Vallecillos, 1988, Commando Operation Course

CPL Angel Perez Vasquez, 1987, Small Unit Training and Management

1LT Jose R. Espinoza Guerra, 1982, Spanish Officer Cadet Course

1LT Gonzalo Guevara Cerritos, 1988, El Salvador Cadet Course

COL Carlos Armando Aviles Buitrago, 1968, Cadet Course

GEN Juan Rafael Bustillo, 1965, Counterinsurgency Orientation

COL Francisco Elena Fuentes, 1985-1986, Guest Instructor; 1973, Officer Supply

1LT Francisco M. Gallardo Mata, 1992, Combat Operations; 1990, Combat Arms

LTC Carlos Camillio Hernandez Barahona, 1972, Combat Arms

1LT Ramon E. Lopez Larios, 1992, Combat Arms; 1988, Infantry Officer

1LT Rene Roberto Lopez Morales, 1990, Combined Officer Advanced Course; 1988, Commando Operations Course; 1987, Combat Arms Officer Course

COL Inocente Orlando Montano, 1970, Engineer Officer Course

GEN Juan Orlando Zepeda, 1975, Urban Counterinsurgency Ops.; 1969, Unnamed

1LT Mario Arevalo Melendez, 1989, Commando Operations Course

CPT Jose Fuentes Rodas, 1986, Combat Arms Officer Course; 1980, Cadet Orientation

SGT Antonio Ramiro Avalos Vargas, 1988, Small Unit Training and Management

1LT Jose V. Hernandez Ayala, 1991, Combat Arms Officer Course

1LT Edgar Santiago Martinez Marroquin, 1991, Combat Arms Officer Course

COL Nelson Lopez y Lopez, 1968, Cadet Course

COL Manuel Antonio Rivas Mejia, 1975, Urban Counterinsurgency Ops.;1970, Cadet

GEN Gilberto Rubio, 1976, Logistics Management Course,1971, Tactical Officer Cadet