Today I went to mass at the Catholic Church in town wearing red, white, and blue. It was the Dominican Republic’s Independence Day, commemorating this day in 1844 when a Dominican trio of commanders – led by the blue-eyed Juan Pablo Duarte – expelled the Haitians, who after gaining their own independence from France to form the first former slave republic, took over the island of Hispaniola to free the slaves and create a homeland for the African diaspora.
I enjoy mass. It’s a happy community event. But as the congregation beat their chests repeating “por mi culpa,” I couldn’t help questioning the relationship between democracy and the church. I’ve started to see a parallel between the way Dominicans plead for their elected officials to grant them favors and the way they kneel in prayer at the Catholic church. In both cases, the people believe themselves to be incapable of improving their own situation or undeserving of basic rights. Instead, they wait for a “bendicion,” a blessing, an unexpected, unearned, irrational improvement of their lot from a powerful, ego-centric strong-man.
In “Why the Cocks Fight: Dominicans, Haitians and the Struggle for Hispaniola” Michele Wucker traces the tradition of a power-hungry, egomaniac dictator to its roots in the Spanish colonization of the island, when “caudillos” took protective and exploitative custody over the native Tainos. Though the DR started having elections after the fall of Trujillo, its fascist tyrant so into himself that he renamed the capital “Ciudad Trujillo,” the voting was initially rigged by Trujillo’s protege Joaquin Balaguer, who turned out to be a sneakier but just as ruthless dictator. Still, he was legitimately elected in 1986 at the age of 80 and nearly blind from glaucoma. The DR’s current president, Leonel Fernandez, owes his first election to Balaguer’s support. A story of an oppressive, Nazi-sympathizing dictator that seemed to have ended in 1961 actually extends to the current day. And it looks to reach into the future, too, since presidential hopeful Hipolito Mejia is campaigning for president under the slogan “Llegó Papá,” literally, Dad’s arrived, but more loosely translated by me to “Daddy’s here.” The message is one that appeals to the desire for a strong head of state to take charge and put things in order. Dominicans vote for their leaders, but it’s a cursory democracy where, after hundreds of years of top-down power, the citizens don’t believe that they give consent to be governed. They more often resemble subjects than citizens.
Sitting in mass, it didn’t seem to far from the Catholic Church’s notion of Christianity. For all its good work on behalf of the poor, I don’t know that anyone has accused Catholics of having an uplifting message about the human spirit. Their masses, even after the liberalization of the Second Vatican, still involve very little contribution from the congregation. It is a ceremony of do as I say, and people are happy to follow along. And really, the hierarchical elitism goes deeper into the story of Christianity, where God presents himself as envious that his followers might have another god before him, or that the sinners on earth received salvation out of God’s grace, rather than merit. Moreover, the poor are celebrated for their helplessness and suffering, but their promised compensation comes in the afterlife rather than by the creation of a just society on earth.
To me, democracy is rooted in the very Enlightenment belief that human beings are intelligent, compassionate, and able, characteristics that give them the ability to think for and govern themselves. It’s not a sentiment you hear often from Dominicans, whose refrain “si dios quiere” (God willing) is not so much a sign of piousness but an expression of their powerlessness in controlling their own lives. They are more likely to show up in the new mayor’s office asking for a handout in the form of a job than enroll in a class to improve their employability. They don’t seem to believe that merit is what leads you to success. If they think that they deserve the opportunity to work, they’re more likely to say it’s because the politicians owe them something in exchange for their vote or because they are so needy. They won’t say it’s because it’s a human right.
Christianity and the Catholic church have gotten a lot of things right in the human rights record, but to me, more often than not, they’ve failed. Especially in the developing world where the population is poor and poorly educated, religious leaders employ the opiate-of-the-masses approach to soothe the pain of suffering with the promise of eternal paradise. But if they’re really concerned about Jesus’ message of human dignity, they would see their role as a worldly one, too, and try to instill the people with confidence in themselves instead of reinforcing their dependence to a capricious commander. God, after all, can be as confounding a tyrant as the Catholic Church.
Wow, Steph, what an interesting and perceptive analysis. Food for thought. Love you bunches, Mom
I think the problem comes when religions and people start cutting out pieces of what God is within the bible. I mean, there is a reason why the American Declaration of Independence stresses the idea of the rights that God gave us, as unique human beings. Within the bible, you have the jealous God- but in that context he is often compared to a bridegroom jealous and crazy in love with his bride. You also see the idea of humans having worth coming from verses talking about the two greatest commandments (love your neighbor just as important as to love your God), and versus discussing the care with which God formed people, and how intimately he cares for and knows them.
A lot of the problem with the Church is that as it gains power throughout history, this then changes the message. Catholics became the goverment religion, and Kings declared God as backing their methods, and the religion became one of commanding rather than living in the overall effect of it. You see this with the mega churches of the protestants today; they gained wealth, size, and power in their communities, and they have either a ‘hellfire and brimestone’ approach, or a ‘if you only do as God commands, everything will go well for you’ message.
…Er, sorry. My history and theological geek side is showing. I took religious history just for the love of the subject, so I love discussing it whenever it pops up. I can’t resist.