This time, it’s crystal clear, and with no loopholes for equivocation or spin. The xenophobe who offices at the White House has spoken directly, plainly and with a racial prejudice spoken by a national leader that has perhaps not been heard since the end of the Nazi regime of Adolph Hitler.
The blatant racism of his comments is amplified by the President’s ignorance, in that the “broken and crime infested places from which they came” is none other than the U.S. for three of the four women targeted. In other words, his disdain is not for their countries, but for their colors. And, yes, the people of the United States DO have the right and obligation to state how our government is to be run. That is government by and for the people. The right and obligation have nothing to do with color.
For impoverished or victimized Nicaraguans who are fleeing their country in hopes of something better, the words constitute the shape and size of Donald Trump’s wall: in his view of America, there is no room for non-white immigrants.
As plain as this message is, it is incumbent upon every member of the U.S. Congress to denounce this stated threat to the inclusive values of this country. As plain as this message is, it is a U.S. citizen’s obligation to denounce it. I hereby denounce.
Anything less is a full embrace of his words. Talk of patriotism? It’s time to consider what you believe as a citizen of this country….
Yesterday Ana Quirós, a feminist leader was stripped of her Nicaraguan citizenship and expelled from the country. This article appeared in La Prensa on Nov 26th providing some background.
Who is Ana Quirós and Why did the Regime of Daniel Ortega Expel her from Nicaragua
By Yubelka Mendoza González, La Prensa Nov 26, 2018
Streams of blood fell over the face and shirt of the woman. The blow in the head where the blood came from was caused by a iron pipe used by mobs allied with the regime of Daniel Ortega. In addition to her head, they had injured two fingers on one of her hands. The woman was Ana Quirós and she was one of the first victims of the police and paramilitary repression started on April 18 against those who tried to demonstrate against Daniel Ortega.
This Monday Quirós was present for an appointment in the General Migration and Foreign National´s Office (DGME), and then was isolated for hours and without knowing what her situation was, the Vice President of Costa Rica, Epsy Campbell, confirmed through Twitter that Quirós was expelled from Nicaragua. She was born in Costa Rica, but has Nicaraguan citizenship.
They did not allow Quirós´ lawyer to accompany her to the appointment, nor the Coordinator for the Follow Up Mechanism for Nicaragua (MESENI) from the Interamerican Commission for Human Rights (IACHR), Ana María Tello.
Who is Ana Quirós
Of Mexican parents, Ana Quirós was born in Costa Rica, but since the first time that she visited Nicaragua, when she was 15, she committed herself “profoundly” to the country, she states. Now she has been living in Nicaragua for approximately 40 years. “I chose to live, work, and struggle in Nicaragua. To make my family here,” she said in a press conference Monday morning.
She is a feminist defender, expert in Public Health, and leads the non governmental organization “Center for Health Information and Consultancy” (CISAS), which is responsible for promoting “social and cultural rights, with an emphasis on healthy recreation and human rights with adolescents and youth promoters, fathers and mothers,” according to the description on their web site.
According to what Quirós stated this Monday, in the summons to the appointment they did not explain the reason for the request, but she stated that she was expecting the worst, as what happened. As she herself denounced, this is not the first time that she faced a situation of this nature. In 2000 the Government of Arnoldo Alemán tried to take her Nicaraguan nationality away from her, but was unsuccessful.
One of the first victims of the repression
The image of Quirós was one of the first that made known the brutal repression that the Ortega regime unleashed against the Nicaraguans who protested against him.
That April 18th, Quirós went to the Camino de Oriente along with a group of people to protest against the botched reforms to the Nicaraguan Social Security Institute (INSS). The people were beginning to meet when gangs arrived from the regime to intimidate and later beat with pipes, stones and motorcycle helmets those who were trying to protest. That day dozens of people were left injured, among them journalists who were covering the events.
Since that day, the expert in Public Health attended the marches and has remained firm in her struggle against the dictatorship in the country.
Nationality is not a piece of paper
This Monday, Quirós left clear that it was not a piece of paper that gave her citizenship “and it is not a piece of paper that is going to take it away from me, if that be the case.”
“I chose to be a Nicaraguan and I feel I have every right to demand that my rights be protected, that they ensure my rights, and I have every right to demand that there be peace in Nicaragua, there be justice, there be freedom,” stated Quirós, in reference to the fact that she has been an active part in the protests against the dictatorship in Nicaragua, demanding the democratization of the country.
“I have the right to repudiate the atrocities and the arbitrary rule that they have been carrying out, the murders, prison or abduction of all these Nicaraguan brothers and sisters,” she pronounced.
Yesterday was Father’s Day in the U.S. , that commercial innovation designed to sell goods and greeting cards and, oh yes, to recognize the important role of dads in our society. The date also happens to be my wedding anniversary, that moment in time forty-six years ago when Katie and I formed our official Sheppard partnership. It’s a nice overlap. Certainly, the marital partnership led to the four children who called their father yesterday with thanks and good wishes. Marriage and fatherhood. It was a good day.
It seems conventional and predictable, to celebrate these kinds of events in our lives. That does not diminish their enjoyment, but it recognizes the expectation that celebrations of family are meant to happen, and often. I felt a special gratitude yesterday, maybe because I keep getting older, with an increasing awareness that, despite their regularity, these special days are finite in life. Or maybe there was a nagging awareness in the back of my mind about children elsewhere in our country being separated from their fathers and mothers in the name of the law. And that is disturbing.
My intention here is not to wade into the great immigration debate within our country; there are enough voices disagreeing about that already. But there is a distinction between enforcing border security versus tearing families apart as a punishment for border violation. The practice is not only philosophically reprehensible, even as a deterrent to illegal immigration, but carries an eerie similarity to the separation of Jewish children from their parents at Nazi concentration camps. Our nation’s posture on this matter is an expression of our values and our morality; I wonder whether this is truly a reflection of who we have become as a people.
The U.S. Attorney General has responded to the criticisms of this policy of separation by observing, “Well, we are not putting them in jail.” To excuse an abusive and inhumane practice by comparing it to something even worse is no excuse at all. At the end of the day, after all the explanations and defenses and rationalizations, children are being taken from their parents. In some cases, according to government personnel, they are taken under the pretext of taking them for a bath, and with no guarantee of ever being reunited with mom and dad. It’s a punishment which the children do not deserve in any context. But here in the U.S.?
Further defense of the practice falls along the lines of “the law,” that the law requires that this practice be carried out, and that if the practice is to end, it must be the U.S. Congress (noted these days for its inability to pass any kind of meaningful legislation) which takes the responsibility. But it must be noted that the immigration law being referenced in this defense was also the law under at least two previous administrations. In neither case was the separation of families used as a means of torture.
We are at an immigration crossroads in our country. The topic has been discussed and debated, leveraged and used, with words couched in sympathy and actions devoid of empathy: more than 1300 children have been separated from their families thus far. The untruths about which political party is more to blame is meaningless. On Father’s Day, 2018, children are being separated from their families. That’s all we need to know.
I had a memorable Father’s Day and anniversary yesterday. It was a good day. But it could have been a lot better….
First, a couple of caveats. (Though this is never a wise practice in one’s writing.) I normally try to steer clear of political party or opinion in these posts, because that’s not what Winds of Peace is about and political opinion is like pollution of all sorts: it’s everywhere. Second, my intention is not to sway anyone’s beliefs when it comes to politics. If something that I write makes a reader reconsider an opinion that he/she holds, that’s entirely up to them. But every once in a while, someone from the political ranks says or does something that, in my view, merits response. That’s what this posting is about.
I read that former Speaker of the House of Representatives, Newt Gingrich, has called for the deportation of all people of the Muslim faith who profess belief in Sharia law– not engaged in illegal activities, but merely believing in a certain religious philosophy. It’s the latest in a series of xenophobic ideas to emerge from so-called political “leaders” in this country, but an idea which is both unconstitutional and logistically impossible. Gingrich, who has often promoted unconventional ideas, has clearly exceeded even the boundaries of his own narrow perspectives. But his concept of extreme prejudice got me to thinking, “what if?”
Gingrich seems to desire a return of Muslim immigrants to their countries of origin due to the fear that, based upon their beliefs and the violent actions of some constituents of the faith, they will undermine the security and safety of U.S. society. For the sake of argument, let’s go along with Mr. Gingrich’s postulate and see where it leads.
First, it might be helpful to know where Mr. Gingrich stands with regard to his own religious faith. He was raised in a Lutheran home environment, though the denomination never seemed to resonate with him. Later, in graduate school, he became a Southern Baptist convert and most recently he converted to Roman Catholicism.
In any case, it seems as though he may have unwittingly and retrospectively condemned himself and his entire family to deportation from the U.S. For the annals of criminal justice are brimming over with convicted murderers of all three of the faiths followed by Newt Gingrich. In his proposal for Muslim deportation, he has condemned all Muslims based upon the actions of some who have killed or vowed to kill U.S. citizens. If that suggestion has rationale, then we certainly must be prepared to deport Lutherans, Southern Baptists as Roman Catholics, since like some Muslims, their followers have presented threats to the peace and security of this country.
Perhaps it should also be pointed out that during World War II, the Nazi regime was led by a number of “staunch Christians,” including their maddened leader, Adolph Hitler. There is no argument about the threat which Adolph Hitler posed to the U.S. during his reign of terror, but I doubt that Mr. Gingrich would opine retrospectively about the propriety of expelling Christians from the U.S.
If we go back in history far enough, he might even consider the external threat posed to the original inhabitants of this land and the deadly, culture-destroying invasion of Europeans here. They, too, were driven by a divine faith which clashed with established religious practice of our earliest ancestors. They, too, (or their descendants) perhaps warrant deportation.
Taken to its logical conclusion, Mr. Gingrich seems to have set the table for all people to be sent back to the land of their earliest discernible ancestry. For many Nicaraguans, that might be Spain. For many inhabitants of the Americas, it’s Europe. We all might find ourselves asking one another, “where did your people come from?” Because under Mr. Gingrich’s logic, we should be sent back.
The constitutional tenets of this country provide for each of us to read and believe whatever we may choose, as long as we do not violate laws or the rights of others. Mr. Gingrich has put forward an idea that utterly rejects that freedom and thus, the U.S. Constitution itself.
The analogies here might seem stretched. But no more so than the panicky abdication of legal and moral rights expressed by a man who, until this week, was apparently under consideration for the vice-presidency of the United States. We are always but one voice removed from another human tragedy….
For the most part, I like to reserve comments here for topics which are specific to Nicaragua and the people and organizations with whom we work. But occasionally, I come across something written by someone else, something which has profound meaning for any of us, whether in Nicaragua, the U.S. or another place. One of those important stories appeared in the Opinion Pages of The Minneapolis StarTribune newspaper. I invite you to read this important recounting of one man’s encounter with ignorance and bigotry, in an unlikely venue.
It was my first Minnesota Vikings game and my first NFL game. I am not new to football, though. As an undergrad at Boston College, I went to many Eagles games, and I played junior varsity football. I knew what to expect on the field. I was excited, and, as I found my seat, I thought about bringing my family to a game in the new stadium.
What I didn’t expect was for a man to push aside other people and point his finger in my face, demanding to know if I was a refugee. He needed to make sure I wasn’t a refugee, he said. There was anger in his face and vehemence in his accusation.
I was stunned. He didn’t know anything about me. We were complete strangers. But somewhere in his mind, all he saw was a terrorist, based on nothing more than the color of my skin. He was white, and I wasn’t. He didn’t see anything else.
He didn’t know that I have lived in Minnesota for the past four years, that I was born and raised in New York and that the words “Never Forget” may mean more to me than to him. He didn’t know that when I went home and my children jumped on top of me and asked “How was the game?” that I’d be holding back tears as I told them about racism instead of touchdowns. He didn’t know that I am an attorney and the director of the Refugee and Immigrant Program at the Advocates for Human Rights.
It was also abundantly clear that he didn’t know about refugees, dignity or freedom. He didn’t know that if he were speaking to a refugee, he’d be speaking to someone who feared persecution due to their race, religion, nationality, political opinion or social group. He didn’t know that many refugees are victims of some of the worst human-rights abuses occurring on the planet, ranging from being sold into sexual slavery to being killed in mass executions. He didn’t know that being a refugee is a badge of resilience and honor, not danger.
In that moment, I was terrified. But what scared me the most was the silence surrounding me. As I looked around, I didn’t know who was an ally or an enemy. In those hushed whispers, I felt like I was alone, unsafe and surrounded. It was the type of silence that emboldens a man to play inquisitor. I thought about our national climate, in which some presidential candidates spew demagoguery and lies while others play politics and offer soft rebukes. It is the same species of silence that emboldened white supremacists to shoot five unarmed protesters recently in Minneapolis.
The man eventually moved on. I found security staff, and with a guard and friend at my side, I confronted the man on the concessions level. I told him that what he said was racist and that what he did scared me. I told him that I was afraid to return to my seat and that I was afraid that people were going to hurt me. I told him that what he did makes me afraid for my children.
Somewhere during that second confrontation there was a change. Maybe some humanity crept inside him. Maybe he felt the presence of the security guard. While he said he was sorry, his apology was uttered in an adolescent way that demonstrated that he felt entitled to reconciliation as much as he felt entitled to hurl hatred. He wanted to move on and enjoy the game. I told him that I didn’t want his apology. Rather, I wanted him ejected from the stadium because he made me feel unsafe.
The security staff talked with him privately. I don’t know what was said. He was not removed. Apparently, the Vikings do not think that hate speech and racism are removable offenses. My gameday experience was ruined. I tried to focus on the players, but I continued to take glances at the man who sat just a few yards away. I couldn’t help looking over my shoulder, wondering if he had inspired someone else. It was clear that I would not be bringing my family to a Vikings game.
I am deeply troubled by what happened to me. Hate speech is a warning for us all. It is like smoke. Imagine your office, church or stadium filling with smoke, while everyone acted like nothing was wrong. That smoke eventually becomes an unstoppable fire, the type of fire that has consumed people around the world to commit horrendous crimes, the type of fire that can bring down the entire building. As President Obama stated in his address from the Oval Office on Sunday evening: “[I]t is the responsibility of all Americans — of every faith — to reject discrimination.” It is up to us all, from individual bystanders to institutions as big as the Vikings, to respond to and to stop the spread of racism and hate.
(Deepinder Mayell is an attorney and director of the Advocates for Human Rights’ Refugee and Immigrant Program.)
This tale caused me to shiver, literally. I shook from both anger and fear. I was angry at the baseless, insulting assault on a man attending an afternoon football game. The assailant might have just as well pummeled Mr. Mayell with a club. I was angry at the recognition that, even in the presumably well-mannered Midwest, episodes of irrational prejudice can be manifest anywhere. I was angry at the stadium security people for tolerating such behavior. (I have seen them less tolerant on far lesser behaviors.)
But mostly, I shivered at the silence exhibited by those seated amidst the confrontation. Their silence permitted and even sanctioned the assault. Their failure to defend an innocent spectator might even be seen as a more egregious disregard than the actions of the attacker; he acted on the basis of blind hatred, while the others displayed a silent and collective cowardice which tacitly condoned the bullying abuse.
We often wonder to ourselves how we might respond to emergencies such as at an accident scene or a fire. Would we have the courage to act? In the case of the silent seat mates at the Vikings football game, I’m afraid the answer to that introspection would be a resounding “no.” I pray that I might never be guilty of such indifference….
Where water passes, there is life (E. Valdés S.J.)
In a previous article we invited people to search for alternatives for the so-called “Central American dry corridor”, a zone that is an expression of the effects of climate change and social injustice in the region, part of it being low quality soils and populated by peasant families expelled from another area dominated by monocropping haciendas (cotton, sugar cane, peanuts…) on historically high quality land and used for extensive ranching (See: http://peacewinds.org/the-drought-social-injustice-and-the-opportunity-for-change/ ). This search for alternatives is even more urgent on learning that, according to the 2015 Climate Risk Index, between 1994 and 2013 Honduras, Nicaragua and Guatemala are among the 10 countries most affected in the world by climate events (See: https://germanwatch.org/en/download/10343.pdf). In this article we discuss one of those options that is applicable to all the areas of the country and valid for Latin America. Based on the innovative work of the Rural Development Commission (CODER), supported by the Irish Catholic Agency for Development, TROCAIRE, in the dry municipalities of San Francisco, Cinco Pinos, Santo Tomás and San Pedro in the Chinandega Province (Nicaragua), we contend that a change in the rules of the leasing system as a result of the organized advancement of rural families would help to improve the efficiency, equity and agricultural and non-agricultural sustainability, and in the long term revert the drought.
Para-phrasing R. Fallas S.J., peasant families without land are like beings without souls, land is accessed via the family (e.g. inheritance), community, state and the market. According to Deere and León (2003, “The Gender Asset Gap: Land in Latin America” in: World Development 31.6), women acquire land more through inheritance, while men do so via the community, state and market. The leasing market is a way of accessing the land, of increasing efficiency in agriculture, and equity in terms of small producer access; so 41% of all the land in Europe is leased, 41% in the United States, 32% in Africa, 16% in Asia and 12% in Latin America (de Janvry, Marcours y Sadoulet, 2002, “El acceso a tierras a través del arrendamiento” in: IADB, El acceso a la tierra en la agenda de desarrollo rural). The experience of France stands out, with more than 60% of their land areas leased, with a stable leasing law since 1946 that allows whole farms to be leased for periods of up to 18 years, transferable rights (in the case of the death of the spouse and/or children), and with leasing prices set each year by a provincial commission; and it is a legislation that protects family agriculture, for example, with an egalitarian law on inheritances. These accomplishments in France are primarily due to decades of effort on the part of the peasant movement to access land without having to buy it, nor wait for an agrarian reform. (See: http://www.agter.org/bdf/es/corpus_chemin/fiche-chemin-333.html; http://www.agter.org/bdf/es/corpus_chemin/fiche-chemin-55.html).
Following de Janvry, Marcours and Sadoulet (2002), leased land tends to be used by families who have little land and by family workers who voluntarily are more productive, that is the reason for their greater efficiency; mostly the transfer is from large land owners to small scale leasers, that is the reason for the poverty reduction; while the very imperfect and biased land markets favor the large producers who buy land off of the small ones, who have less possibilities of buying land (de Janvry, Platteau, Gordillo y. Sadoulet, 2001, “Access to Land and Land Policy Reforms”, in: de Janvry, Gordillo, Platteau and Sadoulet, Access to Land, Rural Poverty and Public Action). Why then is leasing in Latin America at only 12%? From the perspective of the owners, property rights are weak, the laws frequently change and their application (and conflict resolution) is costly; information is inadequate to do a good selection of renters, the local social capital is weak for honoring the leasing contract, and frequently agrarian reforms happen that later do not have registered titles, and when they have titles, their leasing is prohibited. From the perspective of the renters, their few resources limit their access to the market, they lack animals and credit, the opening of roads makes food production for their own use less necessary, even though the higher quality land is in demand for intensive crops (e.g. tobacco) from producers with more capital; and we would add, the producer families have weak organizations and their influence over policy is controlled.
These factors generate lack of confidence among the owners to lease their land for a number of years, and even less to the same people, and makes them resist transacting with people outside their circle of trust; and the same with the renter who is afraid of the abuses of the owner. The low level of leasing means a lot of land gets left unused or is used for extensive livestock raising. Even this low percentage of leasing is done for a year or less, which is why it is only for basic grain crops; both situations, extensive livestock raising and only annual crops, in the long term, contribute to soil erosion and the factors that contribute to the drought, in addition to increasing poverty.
Nevertheless, in the last 10 years there is a new context that could invigorate the leasing systems: drought is reducing the amount of feed and the water for the cattle herd, the large ranchers are not getting into farming because of the high costs of supervising the labor force; people who are migrating from dry zones, are leaving their lands in the hands of some relative; and more and more the end of the agricultural frontier is being felt, many times even with increasing violence on the Caribbean Coast. The reduction in the profitability of extensive agriculture is also felt due to the fact that the land is already “worn out”, which requires intensive and ecologically sustainable agriculture and ranching. What is the response to this new context?
The experience of CODER, an innovative seed
The four municipalities (San Francisco, Santo Tomás, San Pedro and Cinco Pinos), founded over more than 100 years ago, illustrate the description of Latin America and this emerging context. The large rancher is seeing their grazing land dry up, and calculates that the costs of supervision are high if he decides to hire labor to raise basic grains, while the peasant families with little or no land see themselves forced to migrate to ensure food for their families. In the face of this situation the leasing system offers some relief, which, improved through the mediation of CODER, indicates a path with good transformative potential. See the Table.
-provides land for one agricultural cycle (4 months) for C$1000, and whether the harvest is good or bad, he gets the post harvest stubble for his cattle, valued at C$1000, in addition to the fodder that grows on the rented manzana.
-can hire labor of the leasing family to weed or do domestic work
-grows corn (10qq, C$3000) and beans (10 qq, C$4000); 60% of production costs
-assumes 100% risk if the harvest is bad.
-the land is left ‘worn out” and the following cycle he seeks out another “hill” to plant
-leadership is assumed by the male
Improved leasing (with the mediation of CODER)
-provides land for first planting for 3 years at C$1300/yr (a roll of barbed wire each year that costs C$900, in addition to 4 days of work that adds up to C$400).
-good rows for fodder and living and dead barriers (prevents soil erosion due to rain), estimated value of C$1000/mz/yr
-whether the harvest is good or bad he gets the use of the stubble valued at C$1100; it is better stubble
-grows corn (12qq, C$3600) and beans (12 qq, C$4800); 65% of the production costs. In year 3 production increases and 60% of production costs.
-stays on the same area for 3 years
-assumes 100% of the risk if the harvest is bad, but risk of bad harvest is lessened.
-leadership is assumed by the female.
“Traditional leasing” produces economic advantages for both, but only for one year, then the land is left in poorer shape and continues to be exposed to erosion; neither the leaser nor the owner want to continue with this relationship in the same area; in fact, in other municipalities like Palacagüina the ranchers see themselves forced to lease out their land without charge, under the condition that they leave them the stubble from the crop, even though the power asymmetry persists and many times the property owner forces the renter to harvest their corn early. The “improved leasing” creates greater advantages: year after year both earn more economically, the land also improves its quality and erosion is prevented; there is a smaller risk of a bad harvest because of the soil conservation works, which also means better post harvest stubble for the rancher; the corn or beans are better used because the leasing families led by women, in addition to ensuring food for their families, transform the corn into tortillas to sell, and the beans they sell by the pound and also cooked; relationships of trust are built between renting women and land owners, which could augur negotiation processes that would further improve the leasing system.
The key to this “improved leasing” is in the fact that the arrangement is for 3 years instead of only 1, which allows investing in soil quality, that benefits the leaser (more production), and the owner (soil quality and better post harvest stubble). This is possible thanks to the fact that CODER, a local association, has leadership that comes from a peasant-farmer background, and have had interchanges of experience with French agronomists around leasing (See: http://www.agter.org/bdf/es/corpus_chemin/fiche-chemin-355.html), which has given them legitimacy to be able to be guarantors of the notarized, signed leasing agreement, mediators in conflict resolution, and providers of technical assistance to BOTH actors.
Introduction of changes to the leasing system
“Improved leasing” shows us a path that, changing the rules and including coordination among various actors, can have a better economic, social and environmental impact. This path speaks to us of the urgency of expanding it, because 3 years are not enough for adding permanent crops like citrus, coffee, cacao, fruit or wood or energy trees, which also would contribute to the cattle feed and protecting areas of water replenishment. When the 3 years come to an end, the actors go back to the pre-leasing situation, including its consequences for soil erosion, scarcity of cattle feed, and human migration. The same happens with the gender relations that tend to regress. How can sustainable changes be generated in the leasing rules? We propose what we are calling “leasing plus”: reform the agrarian law to permit 15 year and even 20 year leases, ensuring legal stability so that those contracts are respected, and include reform of the law so that inheritances be given equally to sons and daughters, which would allow for those children who might not want to work the land to lease it out; these reforms, especially their sustainability, will be possible to the extent that producer families organize and promote them.
These results require inclusive processes. Local organizations like CODER, in coordination with DIRAC (Alternative Conflict Resolution Office of the judicial branch), could facilitate negotiations between renters and owners, and conflict resolution that gets beyond the abuses toward more lasting social arrangements and more adequate laws. Research institutions could study the various forms of leasing, including sharecropping, and think about leasing to groups, leases with the option to buy, community or cooperative supervision of the leases. Financial and technical and organizational assistance institutions could contribute to awakening in the landless families and the owners a long term vision and an effort and transformation awareness.
This leasing plus could contribute to efficiency, social and gender equity, and environmental sustainability, strengthening the peasant and farmer forms of production. And with this, the drought would give way to diversified zones with protected water sources, understanding that truly where water passes, there is life. Under this umbrella, the biggest challenge will no longer be accessing land, but being a farmer and being an organized farmer.
* René (firstname.lastname@example.org) has a PhD in development studies, is a collaborator of the Winds of Peace Foundation (http://peacewinds.org/research/), an associate researcher with the IOB-Antwerp University (Belgium) and of the Nitlapan-UCA Research and Development Institute (Nicaragua).
** I am grateful to P. Merlet and J. Bastiaensen for their comments and suggestions for improving the article.
It’s an exciting time for many in this country, with the first visit of Pope Francis to the U.S. Some 70 million U.S. Catholics notwithstanding, it’s remarkable to see and to feel the excitement generated by this pope. Catholics and non-Catholics alike have been mesmerized by the rock star quality of this man and, more notably, of his message about taking care of each other and the planet. It’s a moment to savor, this feel-good visit from someone who has the capacity to generate an upbeat and hopeful message; not many could do it. But it also creates a disconnect for us, as we cheer the messenger while simultaneously spurning the message.
Like many, I have watched copious news coverage of the papal visit, out of interest and curiosity. I’m both interested in hearing the topics that Francis has chosen to highlight and curious about our collective and positive reaction to him and “the higher Chief” to whom Francis reports. But I wonder about the gap that exists there, one that Francis has referenced on several occasions in his talks here. That distance between the emotional uplift of this man’s visit and the reality of our daily actions is wide, and I am confounded by that space.
How is it possible that we can be so emotionally and spiritually attuned to the lessons Francis brings, while at the same time living our lives deaf to our own opportunities to respond? Matters of climate and environment, poverty and hunger, stewardship and servanthood have seemingly captivated the pope’s audiences around the world- now including the U.S.- at a time when the debate rhetoric around such issues has never been more polarized and heated. And we are all the same in this spiritual conundrum that afflicts us between our feeling and our doing.
Catholics from Latin America are especially in love with Francis, for he is “of them” and speaks to Latin Americans in their own language, a connection which is treasured. From country to country Francis is welcomed by heads of state who cherish the moments of being in the presence of the pope and his hopeful message, only to return all-too-frequently to their autocratic regimes of favoritism, exclusion and oppression. Even in the rural reaches, professors of the faith who hold a very proprietary view of Francis and his humble servanthood will too often seek to take advantage of opportunities for gain over good character. We are seemingly infected with the virus of selfhood.
In Europe, the pontiff is received upon red carpets and with gifts of expressive love by leaders who, in some cases, have slammed shut the doors of receptive love on the very homeless about whom the pope continually reminds us. Particularly on the European continent, we are afflicted with the disease of short memory about dispossession and relocation.
In the U.S., political leaders have clamored to be among those in audience with the pope; few were absent as Francis addressed Congress. Yet some of these eager faces will reflect a far different countenance in the days to come as the country weighs national interests of short-term corporate health against interests of long-term personal, national and global well-being, of political postures versus strength of character, of support for military revolutions in contrast to Francis’ “revolution of tenderness and love.” Here, we are seemingly diseased through our affluence and power.
The observations and questions posed here are not intended to be accusatory or pejorative to anyone other than perhaps myself. To be sure, we are complex beings with internally competing motives that shape us day by day, even hour-by-hour. We are human, imperfect by definition. We cannot be perfectly consistent because we live in dynamic surroundings, some physical, some emotional, some spiritual. We are subject to awesome and unexpected changes to our lives, alterations which can be both unanticipated and unexplainable. Our world is transforming every day, in ways seen and unseen to most of us.
But almost despite those realities, Pope Francis has been able to reach out to the world with a message that has caught us off-guard but which is full of possibilities. The receptivity to that message does not depend entirely in the voice of the deliverer, but in the hearts and minds of the rest of us. Francis has asked us to be our best selves. Consistency between that ideal and our daily actions is entirely within our command. Deep down, that’s why we’re so glad the pope is here, sharing his universal words of humility and hope, and why we long to embrace both him and his message….
Like many, I’ve been reading and watching the news about the plight of the refugees streaming into Europe. It is heart-wrenching to watch the overloaded boats, the bodies of those who did not survive washed ashore, the streams of humanity marching into central European countries looking for any chance to survive. I sense that even the news reporters are finding this subject difficult to cover, in part due to their own emotions at this enormous catastrophe which is unfolding before us each day.
The scope of this tragedy is such that I have found myself remembering other times, other stories of similar human disasters. Of course, the Holocaust is the first to come to mind. The enormity of it still defies comprehension, even after all the years and books and movies and even personal visits to historic and dreadful sites. We recall with discomfort the genocides of Rwanda, Cambodia, Bosnia and Herzegovina, Sudan and others. I have learned all too clearly the evils perpetrated on the people of Nicaragua by my own government during the decade of the 80’s. Too soon the atrocities have faded from our memories; outrage has cooled to the extent that globally we allow something like the Syrian debacle unfold today.
I suppose that it is the human condition that we will always have unfinished work before us. At the close of World War II, the mantra of “never again” filled the world with hope that maybe this time we had sufficiently absorbed the lessons of hatred, demonization of an entire people, war. But that hope was short-lived at best and the passage of time allowed a dulling of our sensitivities sufficient to permit subsequent abominations.
The sea of refugees seeking survival from war and indiscriminate death is an overwhelming reality threatening to drown Europe in waves of displaced humanity and despair. Gradually, some countries have stepped forward with offers of asylum and assistance. The Vatican itself has said that it would accept two families into their midst in a symbolic act of mercy and a call for all nations to serve. But as some countries continue to build miles of fences and to reject opportunities for providing humanitarian help, the future for hundreds of thousands remains uncertain.
Their plight rekindles thoughts of those other occasions when humanity seemed to be on the brink of simply not caring enough. In each of those eras, the post-crisis analysis almost always included unanswered questions about why the rest of the world waited to act, allowing so many to perish in the process. Of course, in the aftermath of such cataclysms such questions are safe to ask since the drama has come to an end. Retrospective analysis is more comfortable than current actions. The questions are much more difficult to grapple with when the events are happening now, in real time. Such is our discomfort with the refugees’ dilemma in Europe.
As is true for any world conflict which begs for intervention by someone, somewhere, governments speak for us in the absence of opportunities for us to speak for ourselves. As limiting as that arrangement may be, each of us retains a voice, a stance, a position that begs to be heard. Those voices are ours. The actions belong to each of us. Somebody ought to do something before the current humanitarian quandary becomes another history lesson of grief and embarrassment….