The Church Is Just Another Player

During his first visit to Mexico, in 1979, Pope John Paul II said that Mexico and his native Poland had many things in common. Both nations were dedicated to the Virgin Mary, one at the shrine of Guadalupe, the other at Czestochowa. He also found that in both countries, religion is an integral part of nationality. Even though he did not elaborate explicitly on the similarities between both countries’ political systems, he hinted that he was aware of them and the allusion was more than clear to quite a few observers.

Leaving Mexico a few days later, the pope couldn’t hide his disappointment with the differences he found between the Polish and Mexican churches. In Poland, the church was a counterpower confronting the authoritarian rule of the Socialist state. In Mexico, the church lived in harmony with the political regime, having opted for appeasement with the anti-clerical post-revolutionary system decades ago.

After his first visit, the pope decided to transform the Mexican Catholic Church, the second-largest in the world in terms of the number of people baptized. From then on, John Paul has demanded that the Mexican bishops adopt a critical position regarding the secular powers and has challenged them to develop the kind of effective political leadership that can strengthen the church’s autonomy.

The Vatican directives have two objectives: to recover the church’s leadership position in social issues at a time when the country’s modernization process poses a serious threat to the hegemony of Catholic moral teaching, and to contribute to the democratization of the country.

The mission that the Vatican set for itself in Mexico has not been easy to fulfill. The main adversary is not, as it was in the past, the revolutionary ruling class, but the pluralistic and diverse society for which modernity is a central value and which rejects traditional attitudes in such areas as family planning. Example: More than 65% of Mexican women in conjugal relationships use some method of birth control.

Mexicans today seem indifferent to the warnings and opinions of priests and reject all kinds of authoritarianism, whether religious or political. That they are ready for a change even in the religious domain is confirmed by the fact that Mexico is the Latin American country with the fastest rate of growth of Protestant churches. Furthermore, different polls show that Mexicans respect the Catholic Church but oppose the clergy’s participation in politics.

Apart from these social attitudes that put obstacles in the mission of the church, the political and economic reforms begun in Mexico in 1982 that led to a weakened state and presidency and ruling party have also diminished the potential for political leadership of Catholic priests and bishops. Political liberalization has cultivated the rise of autonomous organizations that promote independent causes and actions. It also has led to a surge of influential opinion leaders in the media and the strengthening of opposition parties. Within this remodeled social scenario, the number of political actors who want to capture the attention of the citizenry has multiplied considerably. And it is against this backdrop that the Catholic Church has to compete on a daily basis.

This is a surprising development for many people, not least among them the bishops. In the old days, when the political game was played among the elites and the positions of power were negotiated behind closed doors, the church based its claim to power on the supposed existence of a pueblo catolico: To have a religious majority was equivalent to a political majority. But the opening of the political system has demonstrated how false this correlation is. At a time when the majority of the population in Mexico continues to be baptized in the Catholic Church, the existence of three large political parties demonstrates that Mexican Catholics do not share the same political opinions.

There even are serious political differences among the bishops. There are some, like Samuel Ruiz in Chiapas, who promote the radical positions of “liberation theology”; Ruiz has openly stated his affinities with the ideas held by Cuauhtemoc Cardenas, leader of the left-wing Democratic Revolution Party (PRD). On the other end of the spectrum, the majority of the episcopate distrusts the left as represented by the PRD and leans toward the conservative National Action Party (PAN).

Perhaps the real political influence of the church could be measured in the rate of success or failure of the PAN. In the 1980s, the church played an active role mobilizing voters in favor of the PAN, mostly in northern states. The hierarchy insists that the church’s message is neutral and does not support one particular party; that it only encourages political participation and a critical view of all parties and rulers. The neutrality pose, however, is very unconvincing. The church’s motto is the same as that of the PAN: “the common good.” And PAN maintains that Catholicism is a central component of the Mexican nationality; the party rejects family planning policies, opposes abortion categorically and criticizes the violent actions attributed to the PRD--another coincidence with the episcopate.

In anticipation of the July 6 elections, during the celebration of Corpus Christi, a major holy day in Mexico, Mexico City’s Archbishop Norberto Rivera adopted the same type of rhetoric used by the PRD, issuing a warning that the church won’t remain silent but “will shout and take to the streets to meet with the people.” The intended recipient of the speech was not the government but the faithful who remain deaf to the church’s message. Rivera’s exasperated tone suggested his awareness that the church in Mexico is not one of the main political characters but a mere participant in the electoral process. But in denouncing what ails the nation, he exaggerated the vices of the government to elevate the virtues of his position. In today’s Mexico, this strategy is more a symptom of weakness than a demonstration of strength.