Letter from Mexico

The Catholic Church has played a leading role in Mexico from shortly after the Conquest right up until today. Sometimes supporting change, and sometimes opposing it, its fortunes have waxed and waned. Now, when Mexico faces one of the most important election seasons ever, the Church’s role could prove both pivotal and controversial.

The Church came with the Conquistadores. Priests were granted lands, as well as natives bound in perpetual servitude, just as were the gentry. As the occupation continued down through the centuries, however, some elements of the priesthood began to agitate for independence from Spain. Whether through a revival of conscience or because they could see the approaching end of the Spanish empire, it was a set of priests— starting, in the 1800s with the famous “shout” of Fr. Miguel Hidalgo (“Viva América”—at a time when the “proper” name for the country was “New Spain”)—that took the lead in the unsuccessful coup and were hanged for their troubles. When, 10 years after Hidalgo’s abortive uprising, Mexico did indeed win its independence, the Church retained its power. Mexico’s ruling classes ensured that the Cardinals and Bishops were well disposed to the industrialists and military leadership by contributing one son or more to each branch. The Church’s line was “suffer now, get your reward later.”

When the peasants and agricultural workers, led by such famous figures as Emiliano Zapata and Pancho Villa, and under the banner of “Land and Liberty,” rose up in the great Revolution of 1910 to release themselves—as they thought—from the yoke of repression, one of the first items of business was the destruction and/or occupation of Church property, and the debarment of priests from speaking about politics. Ecclesiastical garments were not allowed to be worn in the streets. Monasteries and nunneries were turned into grain storage bins, armories, stables and prisons. All Church properties were confiscated and all income was taxed. In some areas of the country, most notably the area from which current President Vicente Fox hails, the priests fought a rear guard action which lasted for years, cost hundreds of thousands of lives, and ultimately failed.

Even though Mexico was a “Catholic” country—and has the largest number of Catholics of any other country, in spite of the fact that Evangelicals have been making steady inroads—and even though almost all Mexicans identified with the church—and even though in every village the priest shared the top rung of the social ladder with the mayor and the teacher—the Church was effectively suppressed as a political entity in the life of the nation, a condition that lasted until the 1990s, when Carlos Salinas de Gortari lifted some of the restrictions that the Revolution had imposed. I remember the day in 1995, after an ordinary Sunday mass, that the Archbishop of Oaxaca exited the great Cathedral to mix with his parishioners on the plaza in his white robes of office—an appearance that had many shaking their heads in a sort of “what is the world coming to?” gesture.

This is not to say that the clergy did not often pronounce, in general terms, on the state of the Union, or on “moral” themes (for example, in 1982, the bishops from the south coastal region released a paper saying that failure to participate in the political process was the same as condoning oppression where it existed), but rarely did any priest take part in politics, or sermonize upon political themes (although the upstart “Liberation Theologists” pushed the limits on that one, resulting in a quiet and somewhat successful campaign within the Church to limit their power).

Vicente Fox shocked the nation when, during a televised campaign speech in 2000, he sat in front of the national flag AND the flag of the Virgin of Guadalupe, Mexico’s patron saint. It was a risky move, but it paid off handsomely; millions of pesos poured into his campaign coffers from the religious right, which had always been a factor in his PAN party, but which had been a little nervous about Vicente’s ties to U.S. interests and money, and rather disapproving of his open affair with his then press secretary, Marta Sahagún.

In 2000, the year that Fox was elected, the national conference of bishops declared that the poor are the key to change, a surprisingly liberal position for a body that appears to have become more conservative. Recently, the archbishop of Oaxaca gave a homily on the need for more transparent and more positive campaigning, declaring that until the people develop the ability to distinguish false promises from real ones, things will not improve.

This is consistent with the latest electoral ploy of the national bishops’ assembly, which has come out with a brochure to be passed out in all churches, laying down some common sense rules for making a decision between one candidate and another (for example, “Does the person say one thing one day, and something else the next?” and “Do you see the candidate’s face on TV, but never in your pueblo?” and “Does the candidate come, talk and then leave; or does he sit and listen?”).

While it is extremely unlikely that local priests will advise their parishioners on which candidate to vote for, it is likely that they will take a more active voice in getting out the votes, and that could make a difference, particularly as the biggest bloc of non-voters are the poor, and they are likely to vote for a party other than the PAN. In the end, then, the Church as a whole may end up responsible for a larger turnout, which is most likely to harm the interests of the right wing of the Church, as represented by secret societies such as the highly influential Opus Dei. As always, politics in Mexico are fascinating for an old conspiracy theorist such as myself.

Stan Gotlieb lives and writes in Oaxaca, Mexico. More of his writings can be seen on the Internet at http://www.realoaxaca.com.