The central plaza of Mexico City—the Zócalo—contains symbols of three institutions that have held power throughout the country’s history. The ruins of the ancient Aztec temple represent the pre-Hispanic religious state. The Metropolitan Cathedral bears witness to the Roman Catholic authority that came with the Spanish conquest; adjacent to it is the National Palace, symbol of the modern secular state.
Just a few blocks away from the Zócalo, however, stands the Justo Sierra Synagogue. The oldest synagogue in Mexico, it symbolizes a different part of Mexico’s history—that of religious minorities.
The interior of the synagogue is ornately decorated with carved pillars, gold trim, and an elegant Ark holding the Torah scrolls. The wall opposite the Ark has been painted with a mural of the Garden of Eden. When I visited last year, a synagogue volunteer explained why this subject was selected: “For Jews fleeing pogroms and persecution in Europe, Mexico was a place where they could live in peace. It was Paradise on Earth.”
Other religious minorities have long thrived here as well. Muslims and Orthodox Christians came from Lebanon and prospered. Protestant missionaries from the US and England established a plethora of churches here over a hundred years ago, proliferating alongside Mormons and Jehovah’s Witnesses. The religious landscape of Mexico has only become more diverse over the past few decades, with the expansion of Buddhist temples, Hare Krishna centers, and neopagan ceremonial sites across the country.
Of course, religious pluralism hasn’t always been celebrated. For centuries, the Spanish crown and the Roman Catholic hierarchy jointly ruled this conquered land. Significantly, the War of Independence was itself led by Catholic priest Miguel Hidalgo. (One of the first national flags of Mexico featured the Virgin of Guadalupe in the center.) When the reformers led by Benito Juárez sought to secularize the state in the 1850s and 1860s, a three year war ensued. After the revolutionary Constitution of 1917 established further limits on the church hierarchy, Catholic radicals took up arms and fought their fellow countrymen in the Cristero wars.
And yet, the secular state won out. Church property was confiscated, priests were barred from political activity, and religious liberty was guaranteed for all citizens. While Catholic institutions continued to enjoy special off-the-books privileges, they would never return to their former position of power.
Current President Andŕes Manuel López Obrador, has taken new steps toward recognizing religious minorities—namely, by embracing the country’s large Evangelical Protestant community.
Since he was elected by a landslide last year, the center-left president has been reaching out to underrepresented sectors of the population. In December last year, he met with leaders and representatives of the country’s 68 indigenous groups, being the first president to receive the bastón de mando—a staff representing traditional authority—from these native communities.
These efforts include religious minorities as well. In the early days of his campaign, López Obrador welcomed the Evangelical-oriented PES party into his coalition. Most recently, his government has announced the broad distribution of the Cartilla Moral, a statement on moral issues originally penned by Mexican intellectual Alfonso Reyes in 1944. The president has courted the organization COFRATERNICE, the National Brotherhood of Evangelical Christian Churches, to help distribute it.
Arturo Farela Gutiérrez, head of COFRATERNICE, countered accusations that this violates the separation of church and state. “The fact that we Evangelical Christians are helping López Obrador to distribute the Cartilla is no attack on the secular State. Not at all. Rather, it is an expression of the pluralism that exists in Mexico.” (“Evangélicos inician entrega de cartilla moral,” Proceso, July 5, 2019)
Supporters view this as another effort to bring outsiders and underrepresented groups into the fray. Some secular voices, nonetheless, are concerned that it represents a breach of the church-state divide. Other complaints have come from within the Evangelical community itself.
“This could compromise the churches’ moral authority and possibly take away their autonomy,” says Carla, an attorney and Evangelical Protestant from Mexico City. “What does it mean when the church gets support from the government—is the church expected to return the favor?”
Others fear the possible fusion of politics and the Evangelical community, creating a “Religious Left” to mirror the Religious Right in Mexico’s neighbor to the north. Personally, I cannot imagine any Religious Left being nearly as monstrous as the beast that brought us Pat Buchanan, abortion clinic bombers, and a “holy war” in Iraq. Optimistically, it could be closer to the “social gospel” movement of the early 20th century United States, when those same Protestant churches took a stand for social justice and the rights of the poor.
At any rate, Mexico’s current administration has simultaneously made it clear that abuses of religious authority will not be tolerated.
La Casa sobre la Roca (The House on the Rock) is one of the largest Evangelical churches of Mexico City. The neo-Pentecostal group courts upper-middle class converts with its hip presentation and slick multimedia presentations. The church’s figureheads, married couple Alejandro Orozco Rubio and Rosa María de la Garza, are currently facing the seizure of two luxurious apartments, located in one of the most exclusive areas of Mexico City and worth over one million dollars each. The governmental System of Administration and Allocation of Assets (SAE) has announced that the properties will be auctioned off.
During the right-wing presidency of Felipe Calderón, La Casa sobre la Roca enjoyed special privileges. Rosa María de la Garza, or “Rosi,” maintained a close personal relationship with President Calderón’s wife, Margarita Zavala, and she and her husband were leased various opulent properties in exchange for their support. Calderón himself has even spoken at the church, to thunderous applause. After his election, both church leaders rose to political prominence, with Alejandro occupying various government positions and Rosi winning a seat in Congress.
The church itself walks a fine line between faith and politics, being shrewdly registered under the legal status of a “non-religious civil association.”
La Casa sobre la Roca preaches a “prosperity gospel” of the most shameless kind. When I visited their main sanctuary in 2006, the preacher described her trip to an upscale mall as a spiritual experience. When she learned that a pair of $500 designer dollar shoes were on sale for only $400, she attributed this to divine intervention. “Do you know why they were on sale?” She asked the congregation. “Because God wanted me to have those shoes!”
In fact, La Casa sobre la Roca was making efforts to create a Mexican Religious Right at the time of my visit. Presidential elections were underway in 2006, and a photograph of the soon-to-be-elected Felipe Calderón stood prominently in the church vestibule. A sign over the photo read: LET US PRAY FOR GOD’S WILL TO BE DONE IN THESE ELECTIONS.
Times have changed since 2006, however. López Obrador, who focused his campaign on fighting corruption and seizing ill-gotten wealth, has created a new public agency to this end, “El Instituto para Devolverle al Pueblo lo Robado” (The Institute to Return What Was Stolen to the People). The Institute administers property and funds seized in corruption and criminal cases, reinvesting them in the country’s most needy. The head of the Institute has announced that the money from pastors’ properties will be allocated to addiction prevention programs.
The fight against religious corruption and criminality is not limited to Mexico. Two other religious leaders with strong ties to Mexico are currently facing charges in the United States: Keith Raniere, of the self-help cult “NXIVM,” and Naasón Joaquín García, leader of the denomination “Luz del Mundo” (Light of the World). While NXIVM has developed a large following in Mexico, courting high-level political families, Luz del Mundo is a Mexican-born church based in Guadalajara.
The denomination was established in 1926 by Aarón Joaquín González, who announced that all other Christian denominations were corrupt and apostate, and he alone would restore the true church of Jesus Christ. The church has since been ruled by a nepotistic dynasty of Joaquín González’s son, Samuel, and currently his grandson, Naasón. The three leaders are addressed by their followers with exalted, flowery titles: ”Apostle,” “Mediator,” and my personal favorite, “Angel of the Apocalypse.”
The church is known for building ostentatious white-and-gold temples, rejecting traditional Christian doctrines, such as the Trinity, and imposing ultraconservative rules of conduct on believers. Naasón Joaquín García, is currently facing 26 felony counts in Los Angeles, California, involving rape, sex trafficking, child pornography, and forcing children to perform sexual acts.
While the crimes alleged by the California Attorney General’s office are said to have occurred in Los Angeles County, many suspect they may be the tip of the iceberg. I, for one, am hopeful about the three parallel processes: Naasón’s prosecution, the NXIVM trial in New York, and the seizures of the pastors’ properties in Mexico City. Considered jointly, they suggest that there is still justice in this world for those who hide their criminal behavior behind a veneer of religious faith.
Meanwhile, the vast majority of Mexico’s Evangelical Protestant community wash their hands of such groups. A large and diverse movement, it represents increasingly broader sectors of the population, outnumbering Catholics in some parts of the country. While the future of relations between the government and Evangelical groups is uncertain, religious pluralism is here to stay. The old days of conservative voices who claimed “one faith, one party” are gone for good — and the current administration has recognized this fact like never before.
David J. Schmidt is an author and multilingual translator who splits his time between Mexico City and San Diego, CA. He is a proponent of immigrants’ rights and fair trade, and works with worker-owned coops in Mexico to help them develop alternative, fair sources of income. Schmidt has written several books in English and Spanish, published in the United States and Mexico. He is also the co-host of the podcast To Russia With Love. See holyghoststories.com.
From The Progressive Populist, August 15, 2019
Blog | Current Issue | Back Issues | Essays | Links
About the Progressive Populist | How to Subscribe | How to Contact Us
PO Box 819, Manchaca TX 78652