Some thoughts on migration

Last Tuesday I listened to a webinar organized by some Catholic groups working here in Honduras. Afterwards, I reflected on migration from here, mostly to the US. Here are a few of my thoughts on this extremely complicated issue, largely in terms of why people are migrating. I may later suggest ways to alleviate the situation and promote more humane refugee policies, but that is for another day. 

But first it is important to realize that this is not an issue – these are people: José, María, Consuela, Alejandro, Brenda, Adonay, Jesús, Fernando, Walter, Hernan, and many more. 

We need to remember the humans involved.

Migration is a sign of something that is wrong. 

Why would a parent leave their family in search of a job in a foreign land where they speak a different language? Why would a parent leave with a child, or with the entire family, and undertake a perilous journey with no assurance of employment? Why would a person go into a multi-thousand dollar debt with no assurance of a job in another land?

I am sure that there are young men who go because it seems like a great adventure, when he’s been living a boring life. But there are young people who go because they see no future here in Honduras, even with an education. As one young man told me many years ago during a long discussion, “What does Honduras offer.” 

Each person, each family has a story. We need to listen.

VIOLENCE

Some from the large cities leave because of the threats of gangs in their neighborhoods; they may fear that their children might be recruited into the gangs; others may have received threats because they cannot pay the “war tax” that some gangs impose on businesses in their “territory.”

In other parts of the country, people experience the presence of drug traffickers and the attendant violence.

Throughout the country many more have experienced violence – from gangs or from common criminals. 

There are also the conflicts over land and over lovers. These are exacerbated by the presence of arms and rampant problems of alcohol abuse. There are the many women fleeing domestic violence; I recently was a headline in a newspaper that this year a woman has been killed an average of every 17 hours.

The violence occurs in a political situation where impunity reigns.

The police, despite massive investment by foreign governments (especially the US), together with the judicial system don’t have much success in their investigations and in prosecutions. Many crimes go uninvestigated. Thus, many people have little trust in the police and justice system.

Since there seems to be little justice in the face of crimes, there is the temptation to taking the law into one’s own hands. Vengeance killings are not uncommon. 

I would add that in this climate there is not much experience in working through conflicts in nonviolent creative ways.

In some workshops I’ve led, I notice that the usual responses to conflict are avoidance and flight from the situation. Yes, there is some fight, but it is not always focused.

In the face of this, even those who have not experienced violence want to leave. As a young man I know wrote me after I told him of a brutal death in a village near where he grew up, “That’s a part of why I left – to escape that type of violence.”

A CORRUPT POLITICAL SITUATION

Corruption runs rampant in Honduras. Not only have a number of Hondurans been convicted and jailed in the US for drug trafficking (including the brother of the current president) or for money laundering (including one presidential candidate), but there are stories of involvement of political, military, and police connections with drugs. And the US continues to provide millions to the government, which has led to the militarization of the country and even of police functions.

The US government has had major influence in Honduras for many decades, but hardly on the side of the poor. In the 1980s it staffed an air-force base in central Honduras during a rather bloody time in Honduras history (with death squads and military repression); the base also supported US operations in support of the repressive Salvadoran government and the Contras, rebels fighting against the Nicaraguan government. US government and military actions in the region are not pretty.

I’ll only mention the continuing influence of multi-national corporations in the country, from the US banana companies of the nineteenth centuries to the Canadian and other mining operations, as well as the maquilas from Korea, the US, and elsewhere.

Honduras is rich in resources and in people. But it has been impoverished – by internal corruption and international exploitation.

IMPOVERISHMENT

Honduras is the second poorest country in Latin America – after Haiti. Over 60% live in poverty and over 30% in extreme poverty.

Unemployment is a major problem as well as inadequate wages.

In some areas there is seasonal employment. In my region people pick coffee between November and early March. They usually get between 25 and 35 lempiras per five gallon container of picked coffee berries. Some can pick ten, twelve, or even more a day, but most average between six and eight. That means that many earn between $11 and $32 per day. For many this is their only access to cash during the whole year.

In terms of public employment – for example, in health, education, and local government services – there are many problems. For me, one of the most devastating problems is the way public employment is politicized. In all too many cases, you are more likely to get a job if you belong to the party in power in your municipality and then you may be required to do campaigning for the party when the elections come around.

There are also problems, especially in the health sector, of unpaid wages. 

In addition, the governments often promote a system of dependence – handouts, especially before the elections; major projects at times dependent on the way your village votes; tin roofing when needed; road projects; and aid for building churches. (Don’t get me going on this last.) These type of government projects promote dependency and often crush initiatives of people and efforts to join together in independent organizations.

HURRICANES

I will only briefly mention the two hurricanes that hit here last November.

Not only did people lose homes and employment, they were stranded – as the people living under overpasses in San Pedro Sula attest or as people living in mountains villages experience as they maneuver washouts, landslides, and settling of the soil. 

Then, there is the slow pace at which rebuilding is happening, despite promises of foreign aid. 

COVID-19

I will note that, though there are regions that are not much affected by COVID-19, the pandemic has affected the country, especially an already-broken health system, and has been handled poorly. At times it appears as if the government has used public health policy to instill fear in the people (and squash public protest). But there are also cases of real malfeasance and what appears to be outright corruption and misuse of funds. Multi-mobile hospitals were purchased but only one or two have been set up – and at least another had been deemed inadequate for response to COVID.

THE PEOPLE ARE DESPERATE

And so, what can they do?

One of the panelists in the webinar noted that there is a history of trauma – of the separation of parents from the family.

Years ago, some parents left their families in the countryside to seek jobs in the major cities, in hopes of a better life for their loved ones. Thus, the idea of leaving is not new and, though it might be difficult, even traumatic, to leave for the US or Spain, this is not a new experience.

The question becomes for many mere survival, as a panelist noted. They long for a life where their family can thrive and so pursue a solution elsewhere. 

Some I know have gone to Spain and work there (even though they enter as tourists), but this option may be being restricted as Spain changes its policies.

In the past a few men here have worked for six or nine months in Canada (in Québec, some told me as they noted how cold it was there); there they are contracted to do agricultural work. But that is quite limited.

And so, despite the dangers of the journey, the uncertainty of employment or of even crossing the border, and even the threat of imprisonment, people continue to flee. Some make it; others are flown back. There are even some who, after being in the US for a number of months, decide to return to Honduras. 

But many are still looking for a way out.

Hearing of some of Biden’s initiatives to soften the drastic and inhumane policies of the Trump administration, some had hope that there would be a way to get to the US for some employment. 

Many “coyotes” (as we call those who promote and promise transportation to the US) took advantage of this hope and the desperation to promote even more aggressively their money-making businesses, telling people that they would have more chance of getting into the US (and being able to stay there) if they went with a child. I know of two cases where the father was going to leave with a child under five. I tried to tell them that the coyotes were not telling them the truth, trying to dissuade them. Neither sent with their sons, not because I convinced them but because the coyotes changed their tune and told them that the situation had changed.

MY RESPONSE

In all this, I feel saddened, frustrated. So many are suffering and there seems no way out.

I also feel indignant, not hopeful that there will be serious changes in US policies regarding immigration. I also fear that the US will continue to support policies that will keep the corrupt in power here in Honduras.

But I hope and pray that the people here can begin to take small steps to change the situation and that people in the US can promote real change in migration policy and in foreign relations with corrupt regimes, such as here in Honduras.

There are small signs of hope – but they are often hard to see.

There’s the coffee association in El Zapote that is working and trying to increase the efficiency of their work and the quality of their coffee. There is the neighbor and his cousin who are growing great tomatoes and branching out into other vegetables. There is also the effort of the diocesan CARITAS office to provide psychological support and legal aid for the poor at no cost.

The goal for me at this point is discern how to be present when people face the challenges and accompany them when they try to move forward. 

How will I do this? That’s not one question but it provokes a series of questions that I can only try to face with the help of the people and other friends here.

Racism and violence - random thoughts from afar

Being confined to the village of Plan Grande where I live, I find myself doing a lot of reading and thinking – and spending too much time on the internet.

Reading and seeing what is happening in the US is deeply troubling. I’m writing this to unburden my mind and my heart.

RACISM

The level of violence and discrimination against people of color is alarming. The killing of George Floyd is just the latest case of blatant violence. Reading Facebook posts of some friends, concerned for their children of color, makes me wonder where and how the US has come to be a place where people fear to let their children go out alone, if they are adolescents of color.

I know a little of the history and sources of the racism and its effects. But I’ll dare to say that racism is only part of the equation. I think the problem is more complicated and we need to face the racism, materialism, and militarism that have pervaded the culture for centuries. I was going to write “decades,” but it’s almost a perennial triplet of social sin. Racism has been a major cause of the impoverishment of people of color in the US – and the world. The materialism of those in power is threatened by the poor, especially when they rise up or even raise the questions of injustice. And so those in power resort to the use of violence to sustain their control and domination.

Racism is only one part of the problem – though it is one of the most insidious aspects of many nations, movements, and persons in the world today. But I believe we need to think more broadly and act more deliberately, keeping our eyes on the vision of a world of justice and solidarity.

As Martin Luther King, Jr., said, a year before he was killed, in his “Beyond Vietnam” speech,

“Our only hope today lies in our ability to recapture the revolutionary spirit and go out into a sometimes hostile world declaring eternal hostility to poverty, racism, and militarism. With this powerful commitment we shall boldly challenge the status quo and unjust mores and thereby speed the day when ‘every valley shall be exalted, and every mountain and hill shall be made low, and the crooked shall be made straight and the rough places plain.’”

Racism is major factor in poverty. Also, when those oppressed by poverty or racism begin to organize and demonstrate, the powers-that-be (political and economic) often use violence and the military or militarized police to try to keep them down.

VIOLENCE

There has been a lot of ink spilled and indignation spent in response to the killing of George Floyd – and rightly so. His killing is but the visible tip of the iceberg of racism and violence in many parts of the US culture. The violence of his death had revealed (literally, torn back the veil) and unmasked the institutional injustice of racism and domination by violence.

Some call this institutional violence. I am reluctant to call it violence because I see violence as largely instrumental, a means used for some other purpose. (Read Hannah Arendt’s On Violence for more about this.)

But this institutional injustice, this structure of social sin, is often hidden and not identified or condemned.

Witness the indignation that some have expressed over the riots that have at times accompanied the peaceful demonstrations. “We think that the killing of George Floyd as terrible, but rioting is terrible too.”

As a pacifist (for more than fifty years), I don’t condone any kind of violence, though it’s important to try to understand it in order to work for a world of nonviolent solidarity.

But there are a few things to consider.

First of all, who is fomenting the violence?

In the mid- and late-1970s, I was involved in nonviolence training, often preparing people to accompany demonstrations. We were aware that there were times when government provocateurs or agents of powerful institutions would try to infiltrate the demonstrators and try to provoke violence. Part of the training was preparing ourselves to respond to these provocateurs (as well as to persons who were becoming violent because of their indignation.) It was important to try to isolate them as well as to find ways to defuse any rush toward violence of any type.

I was not surprised when I read reports of persons trying to provoke violence in demonstrations and the influx of white nationalists into communities where there have been demonstrations.

Training for Change has some materials to help in this.

Secondly, the violence of the oppressed is often a desperate call for justice.

Martin Luther King, Jr., mentioned several times that “a riot is the language of the unheard.”

Less than a month before he was killed, on March 16, 1968 in Grosse Pointe, Michigan, he stated:

“And I would be the first to say that I am still committed to militant, powerful, massive, non­-violence as the most potent weapon in grappling with the problem from a direct action point of view. I'm absolutely convinced that a riot merely intensifies the fears of the white community while relieving the guilt. And I feel that we must always work with an effective, powerful weapon and method that brings about tangible results. But it is not enough for me to stand before you tonight and condemn riots. It would be morally irresponsible for me to do that without, at the same time, condemning the contingent, intolerable conditions that exist in our society. These conditions are the things that cause individuals to feel that they have no other alternative than to engage in violent rebellions to get attention. And I must say tonight that a riot is the language of the unheard. And what is it America has failed to hear? It has failed to hear that the plight of the negro poor has worsened over the last twelve or fifteen years. It has failed to hear that the promises of freedom and justice have not been met. And it has failed to hear that large segments of white society are more concerned about tranquility and the status quo than about justice and humanity. (Emphasis mine.)

All too long we have not heard the cry of the oppressed or seen the violence and the poverty inflicted on those at the margins of our world.

Thirdly, the violence of the oppressed must be understood as part of a spiral of violence.

Dom Helder Câmara, the saintly and prophetic Brazilian bishop, who was a voice for justice and nonviolence in the world, even when the dictatorship forbade the Brazilian press to even mention his name, wrote a small book on The Spiral of Violence.

We must first recognize the violence (I would say the violent injustice) of the system that impoverished people, tries to kill their dreams, and makes it nearly impossible for them to live. Sometimes, in response, people will rise up and revolt, sometimes violently. This violence does not come out of thin air. It has its roots in the frustration of the lives and dreams of so many, especially the young. But, facing these calls for change, those in power often use the violence of repression, not only shooting at the demonstrators but sometimes engaging in strategies and tactics of imprisonment and tortures of dissidents.

This spiral can be seen most clearly in the history of many Latin American countries where the dictatorships or pseudo-democracies used torture, disappearances, and more to put down their people, most often with military aid and diplomatic support from the United States government.

Six weeks before his martyrdom Archbishop Oscar Romero, in an open letter to the US president Jimmy Carter, begged him to withhold military aid:

“I am very concerned by the news that the government of the United States is planning to further El Salvador’s arms race by sending military equipment and advisors… If this information from the papers is correct, instead of favoring greater justice and peace in El Salvador, your government’s contribution will undoubtedly sharpen the injustice and the repression inflicted on the organized people, whose struggle has often been for respect for their most basic human rights.”

Finally, it is important to remember that a major purveyor of violence in the world has been the US government.

In his “Beyond Vietnam” speech, Martin Luther King Jr said:

“I knew that I could never again raise my voice against the violence of the oppressed in the ghettos without having first spoken clearly to the greatest purveyor of violence in the world today -- my own government. For the sake of those boys, for the sake of this government, for the sake of hundreds of thousands trembling under our violence, I cannot be silent.”

My situation in Honduras

“And what are you doing about this?” some may rightly ask.

I remember a grad school friend who challenged me on my pacifism. I don’t remember his exact words, but I do recall my reaction. And, in many ways, what I am doing now is a response to his challenge.

It is so easy for me to adapt an arm-chair pacifism, condemning violence from the safety of my white skin, my comfortable life style, my safe and secure home.

Soon after my friend challenged me, I heard that the Fellowship of Reconciliation was forming a group to go to Wounded Knee I expressed my interest in joining them. Nothing came of that.

But in 1979 I heard of a play program with both Protestant and Catholic kids in Northern Ireland run by the Irish Fellowship of Reconciliation. I volunteered and spent almost three weeks there, in the midst of the violence of “The Troubles.”

In 1983 I was hired to do campus ministry and justice and peace ministry at ST. Thomas Aquinas Church in Ames, Iowa. There, the parishioners were asking how to respond to the refugees from Guatemala and El Salvador. We discussed various options and did help one Salvadoran on his way to Canada. Later we helped a Guatemalan.

I begin studying the situation and in 1985 went with a group from a Lutheran Church in Ames to visit Mexico, El Salvador, and Nicaragua. The three days in El Salvador were life-changing. I later found a way to do more than a week-long visit. I spent two months in San Salvador in 1987, during the civil war in a poor urban parish. In 1992, I got a sabbatical from my work and spent seven months, mostly in the parish of Suchitoto. I arrived in El Salvador a day after the two parties at war declared that they had a solution.

I kept returning to El Salvador, but in 2007 I came to Honduras, to serve in the diocese of Santa Rosa de Copán, most probably until my death.

I was here, helping in the diocesan office of Caritas in 2009 when a coup overthrew and exiled the elected president, Manuel Zelaya. It was a time of great unrest and uncertainty. Some US friends asked if I would be leaving. “No. I am here to stay.”

So here I am. In 2016 I was ordained a permanent deacon for the diocese. I work and live in the parish of Dulce Nombre de María.

My concerns about violence and injustice are still strong.

I participated in some of the trainings that Caritas Honduras did on Conflict Transformation, and I helped with a few workshops in the diocese. I have helped a Dubuque Franciscan with some Alternatives to Violence workshops in the Gracias, Lempira, prison. This year, before COVID-19 closed down the world, we were planning on doing some major formation on violence, peacemaking, conflict transformation, and listening. I prepared some material for use in the bi-monthly days of prayer in the sectors of our parish. I’m hoping that we can take up this ministry of reconciliation after the pandemic is under control.

A little over a month ago I came across information on an online diplomado, a certificate program, on interfamilial abuse. It was being offered by a Center for the Prevention of Abuse against children and the vulnerable (CEPROME) of the Mexican Pontifical University. This center has done major work on training people for the prevention of abuse in the church and a good friend participated in their program on prevention of abuse in the church. The director was supposed to come to Honduras in July for the national clergy study week, but COVID-19 has changed everything.

The course has been helpful and I hope we can find ways to deal with the domestic violence and abuse in the parish and elsewhere.

It’s little that I do – but I hope that our parish and maybe even our diocese can become places where people learn how to work for a culture and a society of encounter, as Pope Francis calls it, where nonviolence and respect for all are the norm.

Where do I start - today?

During this lock down, I continue being well, staying at home, for the most part. I got to Santa Rosa last Wednesday (to do some grocery-shopping) but probably won’t get out of Plan Grande until Wednesday, June 10.  (We’re restricted in circulating in vehicles depending on the last number of our ID.)

Yesterday was my seventy-third birthday. Not much of a celebration, but several phone calls, e-mails, and WhatsAp messages, as well as over 225 Facebook greetings.

I took part in an internet class for two hours in the morning. Then I went out to take a walk and went to the parish coffee field, where volunteers (as well as the pastor) were cutting down the weeds and fertilizing the coffee pants. Then back home and a one-hour Zoom session with some folks on Catholic Social Thought.

It’s been raining a lot, which means that the rainy season has arrived. We need the rain since it has been very hot and dry for several months.

But what else is up?

COVID-19

COVID-19 is devastating the world. Many people are confined to their houses. Here in Honduras it’s almost a complete lockdown, though they are beginning to allow some openings for businesses in stages, based on the number of positive cases of COVID-19, population density, capability to provide medical attention, and economic relevance. The four municipalities in the parish (Dulce Nombre, Concepción, Dolores, and San Agustín) are in the first group of 238 municipalities (out of 298 total).

There is even a plan to open churches. I need to study the document before commenting.

We cannot go out during an overnight curfew, which is stricter in some areas, especially the cities where COVID-19 has affected more people. We are limited in how often we can circulate in vehicles or go to banks, gas stations, or supermarkets – once every two weeks, dependent on the last number of our identity card.

This is not hard for me – since I am able to go in my truck to Santa Rosa de Copán and buy groceries. But the lack of public transportation makes it impossible for most people in the countryside to get out of their villages.

We are also supposed to wear face masks outside. Because of the failure of many to use masks, they have recently placed a fine on not wearing masks. In Santa Rosa masks are common, but in Dulce Nombre and in the villages, there are many who go around without masks.

There are nightly announcements on the number of persons tested and the number of cases.

The number of persons being tested daily has increased but the total is only 17.908 out of a population of almost ten million. Yesterday 575 test results were announced. In total, there have been 5,362 positives and 217 deaths. See more statistics here.

Most of the cases of the corona virus have been in the two most populated areas, centered in the cities of San Pedro Sula and Tegucigalpa. But there have been cases in almost all parts of the country.

What concerns me is that since many areas have not seen cases of COVID-19, either because of the lack of testing or the efficacy of preventive measures, some people are lax in their adherence to security measures.

The ability of the public health system to respond is questionable. The lack of medicine, the lack of sufficient intensive care beds and respirators, as well as the corruption that makes it difficult to get enough medicine and equipment, make the country vulnerable.

The other problem is that many people have no or a limited source of income. Many people survive by what is often called the “informal economy,” street vendors and small sidewalk stands. I think of a woman who sold vegetables on a street corner in Santa Rosa de Copán; I often would buy strawberries or papaya from her, but now she is nowhere to be seen.

The government has had two distribution campaigns of “bolsas soldarias,” with some basic foodstuffs as well as soap and bleach. I accompanied the two distributions in our municipality where it seemed to be done efficiently and without corruption or political favoritism, trying to meet the needs of the poorest. There have been major complaints in other areas and cases of elevated prices (corruption) and political favoritism (giving only to those connected with the party in power). In some areas the distribution has been politicized with the presence of political leaders. In addition, in a few areas the distribution is being done by the military.

There have been a number of efforts by non-governmental groups as well as donations by individuals and businesses to help. Yet there are concerns about hunger.

It is important to remember that the pandemic of COVID-19 is, as Pope Francis has said, only one of the pandemics that devastate the lives of the poor. As I see it we need to work to alleviate the pandemics of hunger, lack of education, corruption, and more.

When the COVID-19 pandemic is under control, we have our work to do.

SEXUAL ABUSE

A few weeks ago, I saw a note of a four week on-line course -  a diplomado, a certificate program – on the Intrafamiliar Abuse, run by a center of the Mexican Pontifical University. I knew of the center, CEPROME, because of its programs for the prevention of the abuse of minors and those in vulnerable situations in the Catholic Church. So I went forward and signed up. We’re about two-thirds through the program which has been good.

Yet in the midst of this, I just read on the website of ERIC-SJ and Radio Progreso that the proposed new penal code in Honduras will reduce the penalties for crimes of sexual violence. This is despite the continuing number of cases. According to a National University of Honduras report, between January and December of 2018, there was an average of 248 legal complaints per month. 87.4%of the victims were female and 69.1% were between the ages of five and nineteen. And this, of course, doesn’t include the number of cases not reported.

From time to time I hear of cases in our area and there are situations that seem to indicate some type of abuse. I need to be more attentive and we need to take more measures of prevention, as well as formation of people in ways to respond to the cases and to respect and protect others from any type of abuse or violence.

We have work to do.

AND MORE

For the last few years we have had all-night Pentecost Vigils in the parish. I ended up spending three hours, praying, reading, and writing on Saturday night and two hours on Monday morning. It was like a min-retreat, but with concerns about COVID-19, the plight of our people, and the events in the US framing my prayers and reflections.

Today or tomorrow I will try to put together some of my thoughts on what is happening in the US – in regard to the killing of George Floyd, the responses to the killing, the protests as well as the polarization wrought by some groups and some politicians, as well as my thoughts on violence. But I need more time.

Violence, insurrection, Honduras

Lest anyone misunderstand what I am writing, I want to make it clear that I am a Christian pacifist, rooted in the witness of the early martyrs Marcellus and Maximilian, of Saint Martin of Tours, of Saint Francis of Assisi, and, in our days, Dorothy Day.

Lest anyone think that I believe in a passive pacifism, my heroes include Mohandas Gandhi, Martin Luther King Jr., and the many people who peacefully risked their lives in campaigns for justice and the poor throughout the world.

Lest anyone think I am a hypocrite, my evidence is that I am prone to impatience and anger and have a hard time forgiving others. (Call that hypocrisy, if you will.) For these and other sins that are at the root of violence and are still in my life, I beg God’s forgiveness and help to

Lest anyone think I speak from an ivory tower, they should know that I speak from a nice house in a village in Honduras, a country with a reputation for violence, trying to accompany the people as a deacon, a servant.  I also spent time accompanying people in El Salvador during and after their civil war.

I condemn all sorts of violence. But I have to say that the most pernicious violence that I see finds its roots in the structures of power, domination, and institutionalized violence, that many states use to consolidate their power and to protect the interests of the moneyed few.

I understand why people may resort to violence but I do not justify it. I understand it, partly with the help of the word f Pope Saint Paul VI, in Progresio Populorum – The Development of the Peoples (30-31):

30. There are certainly situations whose injustice cries to heaven. When whole populations destitute of necessities live in a state of dependence barring them from all initiative and responsibility, and all opportunity to advance culturally and share in social and political life, recourse to violence, as a means to right these wrongs to human dignity, is a grave temptation.
31. We know, however, that a revolutionary uprising--save where there is manifest, long-standing tyranny which would do great damage to fundamental personal rights and dangerous harm to the common good of the country--produces new injustices, throws more elements out of balance and brings on new disasters. A real evil should not be fought against at the cost of greater misery.

For this reason, I am disturbed about the recent meeting in La Ceiba, Atlántida, Honduras. of LIBRE, the opposition part formed after the 2009 coup.

As reported in Noti Bomba, Former president, Mel Zelaya, stated: ““Tenemos derecho a la violencia, a la guerra y a la insurrección”- “We have the right to violence, war, and insurrection.”

He has called before for a peaceful insurrection – and I have few reservations about that. I do believe, however, that this must be the initiative of the people and not of political leaders and needs to be the fruit of grass-roots efforts of organizing and solidarity.

But I fear that Honduras is suffering from efforts of the elite to control the people and use them for their gain.

For me, it is obvious that the party in power, the National Party, is expert at this. Their consolidation of power in the three branches of government, their use of government jobs and services to assure (to buy off) their power base, their demonization of their foes, the massive militarization are way they “instrumentalize” their supporters, using them as pawns to maintain their party in power. And I won’t detail the variety of attacks on human rights supporters, environmental activists, and opposition journalists – including deaths – that have happened during their years in power.

But to call for insurrection, without facilitating the development of a critical consciousness in the people, can be another way for political parties to “use” their supporters. It can also be a way of putting them in danger for their lives.

What then?

Gandhi started with purifying and strengthening the people in the villages. Martin Luther King worked in the light of years of organizing and consciousness raising in the African-American communities.

Central to Gandhi’s protests was the constructive program, the efforts at the village level to make changes. This is empowerment from the base.

But what is also needed is a voice from the church that speaks from the side of the poor, that speaks clearly against all the forces that degrade the other, that resists all forms of violence while placing itself against all the forces of injustice.

In 1948, Albert Camus spoke to a group of Dominicans in France. When I first read his words when I was in college during the Vietnam War, they challenged me and I pray that they may still challenge me:

“What the world expects of Christians is that Christians should speak out, loud and clear, and that they should voice their condemnation in such a way that never a doubt, never the slightest doubt, could rise in the heart of the simplest [person]. That they should get away from abstraction and confront the blood-stained face history has taken on today.”

And thus I reject all violence as I will try, in many small ways, to do what I can. As Camus said in the same speech:

“Perhaps we cannot prevent this world from being a world in which children are tortured. But we can reduce the number of tortured children.”

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The photo is not of Honduras, but of Bethlehem from a house in a Palestinian refugee camp that had been blown up by Israeli forces about December 1, 2004.