Editor’s Note: The author worked in Xela, Guatemala, from August 20 through September 3, volunteering with the Highland Support Project of Richmond, Va. The following thoughts stem from two separate interviews with a former guerrilla fighter and the president of a Presbyterian women’s organization.
Before arriving in Guatemala, I knew that the country’s recent history was horrific: over thirty-six years, a quarter of a million citizens lost their lives, including more than four hundred villages wiped off the face of existence in the “scorched earth” policy of ethnic cleansing. Over the previous semester, I had studied John Calvin’s doctrine of total depravity at Union-PSCE; after a few minutes of testimony with a veteran guerilla, I had gained an education.
“Tito” began our conversation by admitting that specific details concerning his involvement in guerrilla warfare were painful for him to bring to consciousness. Yet, he insisted that it was important to share his story. From the age of twelve, he had fought the fascist, Guatemalan regime’s National Army in an effort to restore land ownership to the indigenous Mayan people. As I listened to examples of the National Army’s treatment of civilians, waves of despair came crashing down upon my psyche. If we allow ourselves to hear the screams of injustice without muffling disengagement, the tragic questions will pile as high as the slain bodies, each stack festering and rotting in the Central American sun. How can one human being gouge the eyes out of another and then literally pour salt in the wounds? What kind of world allows for women to be raped and burned alive in churches? Why do adults toss small children into the air only to “catch” them on the razor edge of their bayonets? Tito summarized these atrocities: “War is a monster.” However, I noted that he had gleaned an important lesson from the desperate situation. He explained that women joined the guerillas’ cause and fought just as well, endured just as much, and championed just as noble a cause. In the great lucha or protest for a just society, the female voice was thereby just as important. Contrary to the machismo culture of patriarchal privilege instilled in him as a child, he now believed that women were the true equals of men.
For Caterina Moralez, this revelation is a life’s calling. Shortly after meeting with Tito, she graciously received me at her office and eagerly conducted an interview. As president of La Fraternidad de Presbiteriales Mayas, she leads an organization that is committed to enabling the women of Guatemala to benefit from the 1996 signing of the Peace Accords. La Fraternidad equips indigenous women with a variety of useful trades, such as organic farming, weaving, and sewing. Committed volunteers and staff teach reading and writing, but also self-esteem, AIDS awareness, non-violent conflict resolution, and racial harmony. Through the means of economic growth, the ends of gender equality are being realized. Caterina illustrates this goal by using the Spanish word potentializar, meaning to show another how to reach his or her full potential. Caterina described how this “potentializing” effort is fueled by a spiritual cosmo-vision, which seeks to bring Christianity and indigenous culture together. Spiritual cosmo-vision requires that individuals from diverse backgrounds uphold similarities, rather than denounce differences. Indeed, she highlights the similarities between liberation Christianity and Mayan spirituality in the shared emphasis upon justice for the poor, reverence for nature, and mandate of equal respect for women. The result of a ministry of empowerment is exponential transformation; out of a small Bible study, the religious training has grown to facilitate women becoming pastors. By addressing both socio-productive and theo-ethical elements, religion becomes a means of liberating people from systemic oppression through peaceful revolution. God’s Kingdom is at hand.
As I thanked Tito and Caterina for honestly sharing their glimpses with me, I realized that I must find a way to tell you. Why is it important to hear voices that have been silenced? Because out of the darkest of situations comes the brightest of insights. Out of a painful past comes a glorious future. An amazing part of my spiritual journey has been the moments of clarity, the brief but fulfilling instances when I am privy to glimpse a grain of comprehension in the often unrecognizable paradox of life. You do not have to have experienced a civil war to join the international dialogue to halt global injustice and promote cultural empowerment. Find a way to talk about justice today. If we have shared together, then we can learn together, and furthermore, we will grow together.
Andrew Troutman of Raleigh, N.C., is a divinity student at Union Theological Seminary-PSCE in Richmond, Va.
