took and mixed in with three measures of flour until
all of it was leavened." Matthew 13:33

From the October/November 2005 Issue
Solidarnosc in Poland; Silencio! in Nicaragua:
Why the Difference?
Nick Jackson
Nick Jackson is a PhD candidate at the University of Denver’s Graduate School of International Studies. Previously he served as a lay volunteer for the Archdiocese of Los Angeles Lay Mission Helpers in Nkambe, western Cameroon. He is married and the father of two young children.
When U.S. media referred to the papacy of Pope John Paul II as “full of contradictions,” they typically were speaking about the Pope’s steadfast opposition to abortion, birth control, homosexual marriage, and the ordination of women or married people. Their concentration was on important issues of sexuality and procreation. Yet, I would argue that economic, political and social justice concerns are more important. And here too, John Paul seemed at times to act in contradictory ways.
In particular, why did he stand up so courageously to oppressive governments in Eastern Europe, while he responded so tentatively and tardily to injustice in Latin America? Two events dramatize the difference. On the one hand, the Pope likely was the core symbolic and political power behind the Solidarnosc (Solidarity) movement that led to the downfall of the Soviet-installed Polish government. On the other hand, the Pope was forced during a visit to Nicaragua in 1983 to thunder “Silencio!” numerous times to the crowd that chanted “we want peace” during his homily. In Nicaragua he preached the need for church unity and upbraided Ernesto Cardenal for serving, while a priest, as minister of culture in the Sandanista government.
I want to suggest that there were no real contradictions on what mattered most to John Paul. Issues mattered to him to the extent that they related directly to the spread of the “good news” as it has been articulated by the magisterium. Said differently, the Pope’s first priority always was the protection and consolidation of the Roman Church, and as a consequence the ability to have a sacramental presence in all areas of the world, and lastly to fight for the dignity of oppressed and marginalized people by means of that unity and presence of the Church.
Nobody could fail to miss the impact that John Paul’s visits to Poland had in 1980s Eastern Europe. He left no doubt that the Soviet imperial system must be fought with the power of words, prayer and whatever civil action was possible. In Latin America, however, the situation was significantly different. The Roman Church focused, for example, on the fact that Pinochet and the Argentine generals were stridently anti-Communist. Thus the Church continually called for ‘reconciliation’ and ‘cooperation’ between such government and opposition forces. For example, when Oscar Romero went to Rome in 1980 to call attention to what government-supported death squads were doing to the poor, he was told to work with that Salvadoran government – the very government that assassinated him shortly thereafter. The Pope himself personally administered communion to Augusto Pinochet who had killed thousands of Chileans. Angelo Sodano, papal nuncio in Chile during the Pinochet regime who was given the Grand Cross of the Order of Merit by Pinochet, was reported to have said of Pinochet: “Masterpieces can also have small errors. I would advise you not to dwell on the errors of the painting, but concentrate on the marvelous general impression.”
Papal supporters often argue that a more critical stance towards Pinochet and other dictators would have endangered social peace. Thus the church needed to work behind the scenes. Many stories have been written, for example, about the quiet church diplomacy that averted a war between Argentina and Chile in the late 1970s. The same argument is made about the Pope’s visit to Chile – that it quietly contributed to that country’s eventual return to democratic rule. Yet it was John Paul’s bold and direct confrontation with the Polish regime that contributed to the destabilization of Eastern Europe. There the Pope spoke openly and forcefully, “with clarity and grace” (in the words of PBS Frontline’s “John Paul II: the Millenial Pope”).
It is accurate to argue that the Pope’s experience of Communism in Poland colored his view of what was happening in Latin America. Thus he failed to recognize that people such as Oscar Romero and political priests were truly working for social justice against entrenched oligarchs. Yet it is even more accurate to maintain as well that the Pope was most concerned to maintain the Roman Church as an organization. He was unwilling to risk damaging the church’s organization in Latin America by too-directly criticizing political oligarchs and their religious supporters. Perhaps most troubling is that some of these supporters, like Obando of Nicaragua and Sodano in Chile, were made Cardinals and, in the case of Sodano, elevated to the highest levels in the Vatican.
One needs to look at the different contexts of Eastern Europe and Latin America in terms of the basic institutional objectives of the Roman Church outlined above. In Poland and Eastern Europe, the work of the magisterium was easier, both intellectually and morally. The Roman Catholic Church had consistently been opposed by the communist governments in Eastern Europe. Such opposition, even persecution, made it easier to join evangelism and social justice with the promotion of the magisterium.
The environment in Latin America was decidedly different. The Roman Catholic Church has for centuries been connected with the highest levels of colonial and postcolonial government, economy and society. With ‘gold, glory and God’ as their motives, conquistadors and clergy worked closely on American exploration and exploitation. The Jesuit order was even disbanded for a time by Rome because their close work with the oppressed native peoples in Latin America went against some of the exploitative moves of the colonialists. (See the depiction of the Jesuit’s Paraguay mission in Roland Joffé’s film The Mission.) Authoritarian elements have almost always prevailed in Rome, though promotion of human dignity has also persisted. (One should not forget the Vatican’s opposition to the U.S. invasion of Iraq or their calls for cancellation of illegitimate, odious debts held by less-industrialized countries).
How well can the Roman Catholic Church, especially as it is embodied in the Bishop of Rome, continue to contribute to true human dignity? In the medium and perhaps long term, this question will have to take into account how Pope John Paul II, arguably one of the greatest papal evangelists, balanced the promotion of ‘God’s word’ with promotion of the Rome-based magisterium and with protection of human dignity. I, personally, am a bit pessimistic right now, particularly given the easy election of Benedict XVI, known more for his adherence to the magisterium than for his pastoral or prophetic calls for greater human dignity.
