REFLECTIONS ON THE ADDRESS OF POPE JOHN PAUL II TO THE 50TH SESSION OF THE UNITED NATIONS GENERAL ASSEMBLY
Ambassador Dr. Joseph Cassar*
St. John's University
During his 1995 visit to the United Nations, on the Organization's 50th anniversary, Pope John Paul II invited the world community to discuss and to consider drafting a document addressing the rights of nations. Throughout history, but more so during the past two centuries, the term “nation” has been used and abused, honored and vilified. Together with its derivative terms, “nationality” and “nationalism,” it has inspired millions in their liberation from oppression, but has also cast the darkest shadows in human history, when idolized to become an ideology of intolerance, aggression and conquest.
During the Cold War, the notion of nation helped oppressed peoples preserve their identity and conserve their dignity while under foreign or totalitarian rule. In the Soviet bloc, it instilled the moral fiber to resist and persist until full sovereignty and freedom finally dawned with the USSR's sudden collapse. In the aftermath of the Cold War, the unforeseen spread of ethnic conflicts in Europe and in Africa rekindled new fears of the dangers of extreme nationalism.
Is the call for the codification of the rights of nations justified now that, in most parts of the world, the era of totalitarian ideology appears to have been relegated to history? Rights of Nations examines the importance that the Catholic Church has historically attached to the composite aspects of nationhood and to the duty, which imposes itself on States to safeguard the welfare of national communities. Furthermore, the paper explores whether certain tensions within the context of some more recent international negotiations could reflect a nascent threat to the right of nations to preserve and evolve their distinct identity.
* Joseph Cassar is visiting professor at St. John's University's Center for Global Education (1997-1999). He served as Malta's Permanent Representative to the United Nations, New York, from 1993 to 1997. Previous appointments include Permanent Representative of Malta to the UN Office in Geneva and Ambassador to the Conference on Security and Cooperation in Europe (CSCE) between 1991 to 1993. Most recently he was advisor to the Delegation of the Holy See at the UN Conference for the Establishment of an International Criminal Court (Rome, 1998). He was educated at St. Joseph Secondary Technical School, Paola, the Royal University of Malta and the University Carrolica del Sacro Cuore of Milan, Italy. He holds a Doctorate in Political Science specializing in International Affairs, and has contributed regular political and social commentaries to Maltese newspapers and specialized publications. His current research interest includes the identification of Socio-economic Confidence-Building Measures in the post-Cold War Era. Dr. Cassar is a fellow of the Harvard University sponsored Salzburg Seminar (1978 Strategies in Continuing Education). This paper was prepared for and published by the Global Research Monograph Series. No. 004 November 1997 by the Center for Global Education, St. John's University, 8000 Utopia Parkway, Jamaica, NY 11439; (718) 990-1951, and is published with permission.
Solidarity draws sustenance from the common reverence for universal values such as peace, justice and freedom. This applies both to relations at the interpersonal and community level as it does within the much wider family of nations.
The span of time which golden anniversaries represent naturally stimulates reflection and a sense of thanksgiving. Commemoration of 50 years since the founding the United Nations was no different. Pope John Paul II traveled to New York and addressed the General Assembly on October 5, 1995, bringing his contribution to that thoughtful meditation on the history and role of the Organization.
Humanity's quest for freedom was central to his message of hope—the freedom of individuals and nations alike. To bear fruit, freedom requires an acknowledgment of rights and duties. The Pope also addressed a theme which has turned the lives of most people in the past and at present upside down: the concept of nation. How do we reconcile freedom, difference and solidarity with the reality of the nation?
Since 1948, the Universal Declaration of Human Rights has become an indispensable point of reference in international relations. In October 1995, the Pope boldly proposed that the world community consider drafting a similar international document dealing with the rights of nations.
I have commented elsewhere that this proposal cannot but challenge the curiosity of intellectuals. The interesting reflections on this proposal by Ambassador Dr. Joseph Cassar, former Permanent Representative of Malta to the United Nations, are part of that welcome process of consideration. They are particularly more so when researched under the auspices of St. John's University of New York, that, since its foundation in 1870, has always sought to foster a world-view which promotes global harmony.
On many occasions, Pope John Paul II, like his predecessors, has paid tribute to the role of Catholic Universities in the promotion of knowledge, understanding and leadership. Understanding and acknowledging the rights of nations enhances global harmony.
+ Jean-Louis Tauran
Secretary for Relations with States of the Holy See
During his 1995 visit to the United Nations, on the Organization's 50th anniversary, John Paul II invited the world community to discuss and consider the drafting of an international document addressing the rights of nations. 1
Political public reaction by member States to this proposal has been characterized by silence. Does this quiet reflect on the merits of the proposal? Does it indicate lack of interest? Or is this reticence due to that awe which sincere but complex propositions generate?
John Paul II described his address to the United Nations General Assembly as a contribution towards “that thoughtful meditation on the history and the role of the Organization which should accompany and give substance to the anniversary celebrations.” 2
The rights of nations are at the core of that meditation. They form the keystone on which the whole address rests. An analysis of the address and certain indicators contained therein assist in identifying reasons that may have motivated the Supreme Pontiff to table such a daring proposal and the absence of political public response to the centerpiece of his address.
A cultural divide inhibits a common understanding of the notion of nation and nationalism. 3 Throughout history, but more so during the past two centuries, the notion of nation has been used and abused, honoured and vilified. Together with its derivative, nationalism, it has inspired millions in the struggle for liberation, 4 but also cast dark shadows when idolized as an ideology of conquest, aggression and intolerance.
Abuse of the term led to numerous conflicts culminating in two world wars. It would have been unnatural were nationalism not to provoke the negative reaction of many. Both wars claimed immense death tolls and massive destruction. Worse still, Nazism's collapse brought to the open the horror of the holocaust and the mass murder or forced displacement of millions.
The end of World War II fostered great aspirations among peoples living under foreign rule.5 For some, these were the same hopes already nurtured in vain during the first world conflict when they helped their rulers fight the battle in defense of the right of nations.6 Peoples under foreign rule expected not be cheated yet again through fate or design. They sought the free exercise of the legitimate right to self-determination and the recognition and safeguard of their cultural and national identity.
Though sharing in the condemnation of Nazi-Fascism's inhuman excesses, peoples oppressed by de jure or de facto foreign rule, viewed the notion of nation and the nationalist struggle from a totally different perspective than those peoples who already enjoyed full political sovereignty. Nonetheless, their nationalism did not seek or articulate itself in aggressive imposition on others. Their's was a struggle for the liberation of their own nations from the imposition of others.
The dismantling of the colonial empires, albeit in slow, tortuous steps, was finally set in motion. Colony after colony saw the standard of dominion lowered for the colors of freedom to unfold. Membership of the United Nations swelled. Yet, the distress of several nations continued.
For many countries in Central and Eastern Europe, liberation by the Red Army had meant a change of masters. Attempts to translate liberation into democratic rule of law were brutally quashed. Harsh Moscow-pawn Communist regimes were imposed. Limited sovereignty was conceived, given birth to and nurtured to become a gross affront to the cherished notion of nation.
Anguish was also the lot of some of the newly emancipated former colonies. The straight-line administrative boundaries that subdivided possessions of the old colonial empires had often cut through the ancient nations of rooted populations with total disregard. These nations now found themselves straddled onto the frontiers of two or three States. They were newcomers to share in that same cruel fate which has afflicted a number of peoples in the Middle and Near East. Hopes that sovereignty and rule of law would provide an adequate milieu and guarantee for distinct nations to coexist within the same State were often shattered by despots or military dictatorship. 7 Trampling of democracy undermined the rights of individuals and nations alike.
There were then those nations which, historically, had been wholly or partly absorbed into greater neighboring States with peoples thus reduced to minorities, often victimized or discriminated against. Their ill-fate forgotten, their cause for self-determination not championed, most lived with fortitude through their despair, while some resorted to acts of terror.
In all these nations, the meaning of nationalism was bound to their own historical predicament rather than to the tides of history which, in far distant lands, had seen the idea of nation-state evolve into chauvinistic ideologies, later to plunge Europe and the world into war.
Lack of a common understanding of nationalism is not in fact as absolute as the aspersions cast on the term, and the disapproving attitudes which have evolved may make one think.
Spirited concern at the risk of the dilution of national sovereignty as the European Economic Communities evolved into a European Union was, and still remains, common. In many other instances, anxiety over the real or perceived loss of markets has given rise to rigid and inflexible stances at international negotiating fora and to massive flag-waving campaigns at home urging consumers to buy nationally produced goods and to shun products manufactured elsewhere. Equally diffused is the sensitivity to the impact of imported cultural models on the lifestyle and resistance to an encroaching use of foreign words in the language. These instances and others are manifestations of a national sentiment defended by its exponents with vigor and pride.
Then there are other less savory forms of national zeal—phenomena ranging from initiatives to mobilize public opinion out of fear of loss of influence, to actions reflecting the dread of migrant impact on cultural homogeneity and, in some extreme cases, violent displays of xenophobia.
This wide and diversified array of sentiment, in societies where the term nationalism is usually frowned upon, reveals a dichotomy. It testifies that the notion of nation is as rooted in peoples who already enjoy nationhood as it is amongst peoples still aspiring full emancipation.
The Cold War's end revived expectations that the new era of peace would resolve the anguish afflicting captive nations. New security architectures were liberally spoken of. In Central and Eastern Europe, the Communist regimes collapsed like dominoes. For a few months, an elated world sensed a peace, the like of which had not been felt in decades. The bliss was soon rudely interrupted. Iraq invaded Kuwait; dissolution of Yugoslavia was fast degenerating into war.
Suddenly, the notion of nation was again at the heart of international debate with respect to the rights of the Kuwaiti people, of the Kurds and of the national communities of Yugoslavia.
National awareness spread even further: to the Soviet Union with the mosaic of peoples, cultures and nations within its frontiers; to Africa where inherited colonial boundaries halved settlements of nations, tribes and ethnic populations; to Asia where national minorities often felt cramped, restricted and overwhelmed by the ethnic majorities of mammoth states.
In the Cold War's immediate aftermath, the United Nations spread its resources thin in an effort to cope with conflicts as they erupted. The Security Council met in innumerable closed or public sessions. The Secretary General took initiatives to mediate. Draft peace plans were drawn by the superpowers and by influential States and statesmen. Exasperation soon followed. Peacekeeping in many cases was impossible to launch; in others it was too costly an enterprise.
The search for the root causes of conflicts tormented the international community to
16
the point of exhaustion. As the case of Yugoslavia was to demonstrate, the rules of the game were difficult to identify and not easy to follow. Loyalties and friendships between States did not obey mechanical objective criteria. Shared ethnicity, shared cultures and shared religions became ingredients in a potpourri of international malaise.
Strong desires for honorable solutions and face-saving settlements appeared incapable of restraining the turn of events which, like a slippery eel, evaded and avoided containment.
This was the international environment that served as a backdrop to the celebrations that marked the 50th anniversary of the United Nations.8 A special commemorative meeting of the General Assembly was held from the 22nd to the 24th of October, 1995. It brought together 177 high-level representatives of Member States, including 128 heads of State and Government and 23 heads of observer States and organizations. The special commemorative meeting and declaration adopted on that occasion, in the words of Secretary General Boutros Boutros-Ghali, “rededicate the United Nations to the world, and reaffirm the commitment of the world to the United Nations.” 9
Pope John Paul II visited the United Nations and addressed its General Assembly on October 5, 1995,10 three weeks before the 50th Anniversary Special Commemorative Meeting. This was his second visit to UN Headquarters. Paul VI, the first Pope to visit the United Nations, addressed the General Assembly on October 4, 1965, on the Organization's 20th anniversary.
In his address, John Paul II reflected on the dynamics of change in the international community since the end of the Cold War as would most other statesmen addressing the commemorative meeting later that month. What distinguishes his address is the forthright manner with which he confronts one of the thorniest problems of our time: nationhood.
In this respect John Paul II's address was in a class of its own. It had vision. Like charisma, vision is a word devalued through frequent inappropriate use. It is not utopian. Neither is it a restatement of that which conforms or is in vogue. Vision infers a course of action based on realistic suppositions even if these are less obvious.
John Paul II did not limit himself to a generic appeal for peace. He brought to UN-50 the experience of a Church that would soon commemorate twenty centuries of its foundation. Thirty years earlier, addressing the UN General Assembly, Paul VI had said: “We have been on our way for a long time and bring a long history with us “ It is as an ‘expert in humanity' that we bring this Organization the support and approval of our recent predecessors, that of the Catholic hierarchy, and our own, convinced as we are that this Organization represents the obligatory path of modern civilization and world peace.” 12
John Paul II now urged the world community for an international response to “the fear which darkens human existence at the end of the twentieth century.” Coercion, repression, or imposition of one social model on the entire world were wrong solutions. “The answer”…is the common effort to build the civilization of love, founded on the universal values of peace, solidarity, justice and liberty.” 13
The culture of freedom is the soul of the civilization of love—“the freedom of individuals and the freedom of nations, lived in self-giving solidarity and responsibility.” 14
It is within this context of a fearless search for authentic solutions well-grounded in freedom, that one must consider John Paul II's proposal for the world community to reflect, discuss and develop an international instrument which acknowledges the rights of nations. 15
The Pope reminded that the Holy See's support for the ideals and goals of the United Nations had been there from the very beginning. Though “their respective purposes and operative approaches are obviously different, the Church and the United Nations constantly find wide areas of co-operation on the basis of their common concern for the human family.” 16
This common concern for the human family reflects the universal character of both institutions. “In coming before this distinguished Assembly, I am vividly aware that through you I am in some way addressing the whole family of peoples living on the face of the earth.” 17
Concern for the human family complements concern for “the integral good of every human being.” 18 Solidarity and freedom are basic and instrumental in satisfying these two vital needs.
John Paul II describes the quest for freedom as “one of the greatest dynamics of human history.” Because of the “extraordinary global acceleration” in this quest, he notes, “this universal longing for freedom is truly one of the distinguishing marks of our time.” 19
John Paul II observes that “solidarity was the moral core of the ‘power of the powerless'” that led to the 1989 non-violent revolutions in Central and Eastern Europe. In confronting regimes backed by the power of propaganda and terror, solidarity was “a beacon of hope and an enduring reminder that it is possible for man's historical journey to follow a path which is true to the finest aspirations of the human spirit.” 20 The force that inspires, nurtures and sustains social solidarity is the conviction that “there are indeed universal human rights, rooted in the nature of the person, rights which reflect the objective and inviolable demands of a universal moral law.” 21
It is the “moral logic which is built into human life” which “makes possible dialogue between individuals and peoples.” To intelligibly discuss its own future, humanity must acknowledge “the universal moral law written on the human heart” if it wants “a century of violent coercion to be succeeded by a century of persuasion.” 22
The Supreme Pontiff then reflected on the rights of nations. The quest for freedom in the second half of the twentieth century, he said, had engaged not only individuals but nations as well. 23
He stressed that, fifty years after the end of the Second World War, “it is important to remember that that war was fought because of violations of the rights of nations.” He recalled the “terrible crimes” committed “in the name of lethal doctrines which taught the ‘inferiority' of some nations and cultures.” The conviction that “such doctrines were antithetical to peace” gave birth to the United Nations.
This notwithstanding, even after that war's end “the rights of nations continued to be violated.” 24
Absorption of some territories and control imposed on others by the Soviet Union meant an effective loss of sovereignty of States “required to submit to the will dominating the entire bloc.” For many victims of the Second World War, the “promise of peace” began to be realized only when their freedom was restored in 1989. 25
18
“The Universal Declaration of Human Rights, adopted in 1948, spoke eloquently of the rights of persons; but no similar international agreement has yet adequately addressed the rights of nations. This situation must be carefully pondered, for it raises urgent questions about justice and freedom in the world today.” 26
On making this challenging statement, John Paul II allays undue reaction emphasizing that “the problem of the full recognition of the rights of peoples and nations has presented itself repeatedly to the conscience of humanity, and has also given rise to considerable ethical and juridical reflection.” As examples of instances of considerable ethical and juridical reflection on this issue, he mentions the XV century contribution of the Academy of Krakow at the Council of Constance, the discussion at the University of Salamanca with regard to the peoples of the New World and, nearer in time, “the prophetic words of my predecessor, Pope Benedict XV, who in the midst of the First World War reminded everyone that ‘Nations do not die' and invited them ‘to ponder with serene conscience the rights and just aspirations of peoples.'” 27
John Paul II then explained the concerns that are at the basis of his challenging proposal.
Social processes including migration, mass media and globalization of the economy stimulated an extensive mobility which “has blurred the ethnic and cultural frontiers of different peoples.”
In this “new world horizon,” there is also the powerful re-emergence of ethnic and cultural consciousness reflecting an explosive need for identity, as a counterweight to the tendency toward uniformity. “This is a phenomenon which must not be underestimated or regarded as a simple left over of the past. It demands serious interpretation, and a closer examination on the levels of anthropology, ethics and law.” 28
He noted how “tension between the particular and the universal can be considered immanent in human beings.” While a shared human nature induces identification with the broader human family, the particularities of each person's upbringing nurtures bonding, at different social levels, first within the family and then in the wider local and national community. This inevitable tension, stated the Pope, can be “singularly fruitful if lived in a calm and balanced way.” 29
Acknowledging the difficulty of defining the very concept of ‘nation', the Supreme Pontiff points out that the nation “cannot be identified a priori and necessarily with the State.” Nonetheless, these difficulties should not inhibit a study of the rights of nations, “if we wish to avoid the errors of the past and ensure a just world order.” 30
In a brief schematic manner Pope John Paul II outlines the core rights of nations as:
The fundamental right to existence, he states, “does not necessarily call for sovereignty as a State.” The exercise of self-determination in a climate of freedom can determine choice from alternatives that can range from single state sovereignty to various possible forms of juridical aggregation between different nations.32
Rights of nations, as vital requirements of their particularity, are balanced by the duties of nations towards each other and humanity as a whole. Foremost duty, reflecting the requirements of universality, is that of living in a spirit of peace, respect and solidarity with other nations.
John Paul II states that “thus, the exercise of the rights of nations, balanced by the acknowledgment and the practice of duties, promotes a fruitful exchange of gifts, which strengthens the unity of all mankind.” 33
When such balance is lacking or is ruthlessly denied the consequences cannot but be ominous. Throughout the 19th and 20th century, successive Popes warned against the dangers of unrestrained nationalistic fervor. Heeded, these timely pleas would have spared humanity of untold suffering.
“From bitter experience,” John Paul II stresses, “we know that the fear of ‘difference,' especially when it expresses itself in a narrow and exclusive nationalism which denies any rights to ‘the other' can lead to a true nightmare of violence and terror.”
In this respect, he clarifies and underlines “the essential difference between an unhealthy form of nationalism, which teaches contempt for other nations and cultures, and patriotism, which is a proper love of one's country. True patriotism never seeks to advance the well-being of one's own nation at the expense of others, for in the end, this would harm one's own nation as well: doing wrong damages both aggressor and victim.” 36
Aware of the dangers which extreme nationalism can give rise to, like his predecessors, Pope John Paul II warns that “Nationalism, particularly in its most radical forms, is thus the antithesis of true patriotism, and today we must ensure that extreme nationalism does not continue to give rise to new forms of the aberrations of totalitarianism.” Aware of the abuse use which radical forms of nationalism can make of the diverse components of the cultural identity of peoples and nations, His Holiness stresses, “this is a commitment which also holds true, obviously, in cases where religion itself is made the basis of nationalism, as unfortunately happens in certain manifestations of so-called ‘fundamentalism.'” 37
John Paul II underlines another danger which the world community needs to guard against: utilitarianism, “which often has devastating political consequences, because it inspires an aggressive nationalism on the basis of which the subjugation, for example, of a smaller or weaker nation, is claimed to be good solely because it corresponds to the national interest.” 38
Thus, in calling for deliberation on the absence of an international agreement that addresses the rights of nations, John Paul II demonstrates an acute awareness of the difficulties that may be encountered. He admits that “a study of these rights is certainly not easy.” 39
Commenting on the Pope's proposal a year later, Archbishop Jean-Louis Tauran, the Secretary for Relations with States of the Holy See, said that “such a suggestion cannot but challenge the curiosity of intellectuals, just as much as the creativity of the practitioners of law. The shape and contents of a Charter of this kind will, of course, have to be clearly determined.” 40
The intermittent, albeit considerable, ethical and juridical reflection as the problem presented itself repeatedly to the conscience of humanity, has encountered mixed fortunes. This state of affairs, however, does not impinge on merit nor should it preclude further deliberation.
As already noted, in referring to past consideration of the rights of nations, John Paul II mentions three significant instances:
Choice of these three instances was unlikely a random selection of anecdotal points of reference.
The turbulent events that surrounded the Council of Constance, under normal circumstances, do not make that epoch particularly appealing to be recalled by the Head of the Catholic Church. The Great Western Schism (1378-1417) produced the agonizing experience of having first two, then three rival popes, each claiming to be the legitimate successor to the Throne of Peter.
The Council (1414-1418) was convened when the impelling movement to restore unity within the Church finally generated enough momentum to overwhelm the destructive force of division.
In the political sphere, the notion of nationhood was then slowly but surely affirming itself. “Everywhere…the territories governed by princes grew larger. Everywhere, the might and competence of secular authority multiplied.” 41 Constance was influenced by what John H. Mundy describes as “the growth of a feeling of nationhood among their subjects in the age before the Councils.” 42
Following the practice established at the Council of Pisa, the fathers of the Council in Constance were organized into nations.43 At Pisa, the German, French, Italian and Spanish nations each grouped within them a number of kingdoms. At Constance, the English nation was created in the absence of the Spanish nation at the Council's initial phase. When the Spanish nation finally joined the Council, some argued for a return to the original Pisa configuration. But the dye had been cast. England defended its case and retained its status as a nation.
England claimed to possess all the characteristics required of an authentic nation, “understood as a people marked off from others by blood relationship and habit of unity or by peculiarities of language, the most sure and positive sign and essence of a nation in divine and human law.” 44
In her study on Nationality at the Council of Constance, Louise Ropes Loomis writes that “Every nation at Constance displayed on occasion that peculiar species of touchy conceit and bombast and the unscrupulous assertiveness that were to be the symptoms of the new nationalism.” She adds that “the English, being the least numerous, posed as champions of the right of each nation to be counted as the equal of the other. Yet, they joined with the larger nations ignoring the rights of Hungarians, Czechs and Poles to separate identity and a separate vote.” 45
John Paul II's use of the Council of Constance as a point of reference, like the proverbial stone which hits two birds, illustrates the two themes which dominate his address, namely the fear-generating uncertainties in times of transition and the notion of nation, which evolved and gradually affirmed itself in the past 500 years.
What is the Council of Constance's relevance in the context of the post-Cold war era?
The tensions that characterized the four decades preceding Constance, immersed Europe and the Church in sharp contrasting division. Within its imposed limitations, albeit temporarily, the Council re-established unity within the Church and set important parameters in deciding on certain disputes.
It would be outside the scope of this present study to enter into a detailed examination of the Council or its decisions. What is important to note, though, is that arguments which preceded decisions reflected the general will to establish guidelines in deciding on fundamental issues to regulate the difficult period of transition which prospected itself.
In this respect the atmosphere of suspicion and uncertainty, during and after the Council, is not dissimilar to that of doubt and hesitation which seized the world community when the idyllic visions of unity, which followed the fall of the Berlin Wall, were challenged by conflict and strife.
Faced with the turbulence and uncertainties which follow any period of sharp division, forces which advocate unity have to demonstrate, at one point in time, a will to overcome fear. Fear can generate a fatalistic immobility in societies confronted by rapid and radical change. Only “the risk of peace” 46 can help overcome fear of the future and fear of man.47
The Pope's mention of the Council of Constance, though, is not generic. He specifically points out “the discussion…when the representatives of the Academy of Krakow, headed by Pawel Wlodkowic, courageously defended the right of certain European peoples to existence and independence.” 48
This reference to the Academy of Krakow is the second time out of five49 that John Paul II mentions an event directly connected with the region or land of his birth as an illustration. Is this an instance that does justice to his being described as a Slav Pope being more Polish than Papal? 50 Does his address to the United Nations qualify among those instances in which, according to some, the Pope “when behaving spontaneously, when he consults his heart, then he is 150 percent Polish?” 51 Or is this medieval event, coincidentally part of Poland's historical heritage, still relevant today?
John Paul II indicates Pawel Wlodkowic by name.52 He describes his contribution as a courageous defense of the right of certain peoples to existence and independence.53 Is Wlodkowic's advocacy given prominence as an academic landmark or does it provide insights into contemporary realities?
What issues did Wlodkowic, known also as Paulus Vladimiri,54 defend at Constance?
Poland's case at Constance reflected the growing sense of nationhood and nationalism.
The attitude adopted by peoples at the moment of their encounter with other peoples, cultures and nations, often reflects their level of commitment to the basic values on which their own culture rests. Christian peoples and nations, in two thousand years of tumultuous history, were not exonerated from this crucible test. Contact with the pagan peoples of northern Europe was one such test.
In the XIV and XV centuries, the Teutonic Knights (Order of St. Mary of the Teutons) claimed as their mission the conversion to Christianity of the remaining heathen Slavs living in the Baltic region. In the name of this mandate they uprooted peoples from their homelands, colonized Prussia with the settlement of German families, and used this territory as the base for periodic assaults on Lithuania and parts of Poland.
Though Poland had converted to Christianity in 966, the Teutonic Knights repeatedly created new pretexts to continue their incursions. In 1386, the marriage of Queen Jadwiga of Poland to Wladyslaw II Jagiello, grand duke of Lithuania, established peace between Poland and Lithuania, and united the two States. 55 Coercion, as a method of conversion was, renounced. Through example and persuasion, most of Lithuania's leaders and people became Christian. 56 The Teutonic Knights did not bring to an end their incursions till 1410, when Poland mounted an offensive and defeated them at the Battle of Tannenberg.
The Order still benefited from the goodwill of those who did not know it first hand. It depicted itself as the victim of an aggression by a kingdom whose monarch and its many peoples were still tainted by elements of paganism. Worse, Poland had used a mix of Catholic, Tatar and Russian orthodox troops to defeat the religious order.
22
At the Council of Constance, Poland had to defend its military action against a Christian Order, the Teutonic Knights. Defense of her case was lead by Wlodkowic, one of the most learned of her sons and Rector of the University of Krakow. Centuries before others would do so, the Polish jurist and theologian forcefully but systematically delineated some of the key notions which would later buttress the Law of Nations and the concept of Universal Human Rights.
In his argumentation relative to Poland's particular predicament, namely that of a recently converted kingdom defeating the Christian Teutonic Knights, Wlodkowic contested a number of then widely accepted suppositions and introduced a concept of rights and political power very different from that held in feudal Europe:
• Nothing justifies any threat or action to exterminate a nation or its people. One understands why, more than five centuries later, John Paul II would pay tribute to Pawel Wlodkowic, praising his defense of the right of all peoples to exist and describing him as having “already as early as the beginning of the fifteenth century laid the foundations of the modern theory of human rights.” 57
At the time of the Council, the Teutonic Order's “right of might” philosophy still represented the biggest security threat for Poland and Lithuania. With the conversion of the Lithuanians, the Prussian Order's questionable claim that the defense and spread of Christendom justified its military incursions lost even the ‘legal' or ‘moral' basis that had been asserted.
At Constance, Wlodkowic argued that the Order's claimed mandate was morally and legally deficient. It was a sham concealing “the Prussian heresy”—an expansionist policy based on the right of might superseding the might of right.
Faced with the difficult task of defending his country's firm response to the Teutonic Knights' continuous provocation, Wlodkowic portrayed the Order as a power elite that abused religion to justify invasion and plunder. He knew that those who did not know the facts could still be tricked by the Order's claimed mission. He spelt out the long-term threat which the haeresis Prussiana represented for peace in Europe—a totalitarian ideology, ante litteram, which sought only the forced imposition of a people over others, power being its only true justification.
Wlodkowic argued that persuasion was the only method of conversion acceptable to Christianity.
The Teutonic Order's claim that conversion justified its incursions in Lithuania and Poland was wrong both on the grounds of reason and on the accepted teachings of the Catholic Faith. As Belch comments, “It was in this situation that Prussianism was born, whose spirit was pregnant with many future evils for Europe and the world. Vladimiri discovered its germ, described and named it as haeresis Prussiana, which included political monism, power politics, expansionism and colonialism at the expense of races and peoples regarded as culturally inferior.” 58
Wlodkowic did not confine himself to depicting the threat represented by the Teutonic Order. He questioned much of what was taken for granted at the time.
Should the confession of States be a determinant in regulating their relations?
Was the vexatious treatment of peaceful non-Christian nations by their Christian neighbors just? If parents could not be forced to baptize a child, could a nation be attacked to convert a people? The arguments developed by Wlodkowic reflected a concept of society that far preceded his times. He projected and defended an innovative vision. With great intellectual prowess he anticipated a new framework of international relations. This he explored, mapping and establishing the basis for what would much later evolve as the Law of Nations.
“The first writer to formulate the argument in justification of genocide was no doubt Ioannes Falkenberg,” writes Stanislaus F. Belch in his monumental work, Paulus Vladimiri and his Doctrine concerning International Law and Politics. “Vladimiri, who occupied himself with the rejection of Falkenberg's arguments, should be regarded as the first who, in a scholarly manner, refuted the doctrine and practice of genocide.” 59
Attacking Poland's military offensive of 1410, Falkenberg accused the Poles of being “guilty of the abominable crime of using Pagan allies in their war against the German Order.” 60 Consequently, he proposed that “the Poles must be exterminated.” 61 In his Liber de doctrina, Falkenberg argued that “the Emperor has the right to slay even peaceful infidels simply because they are pagans; the Poles too should be killed for allying themselves with the infidels and resisting Christian Knights. The Poles deserve death for defending infidels, and should be exterminated even more than the infidels; they should be deprived of their sovereignty and reduced to slavery.” 62
Falkenberg's other work, Satira, which Poland challenged at the Council of Constance, “deals specifically with the killing of a specific nation and state: the Poles and Poland.” The conclusion reached by Falkenberg in Satira was that “since the whole Polish nation, as a people in the juridical sense, is guilty, it therefore should be punished in its entirety…Secular princes are obliged either to kill all the Poles and their king, or to kill the major portion of the nation and to hang the king and the nobility.” 64 Wlodkowic denounced the suggested genocide: “This doctrine is not only false and erroneous but, inasmuch as it is repugnant to the divine law, it is also heretical, impious and insane; inasmuch as it advocates the unjust killing of men in an unlawful way, it is dangerous, scandalous temerarious and cruel; inasmuch as it deprives the Poles of legitimate defense contrary to natural law, it is seditious, injurious and disturbing to
24
human society, and, in consequence, offensive to honest ears and therefore should be condemned.” 65 Falkenberg's proposals were eventually condemned by a Commission of Judges appointed by the Council of Constance. In his Papal Bull of January 10, 1424, Pope Martin V “wanting to obviate the evils that may come to Poland from the errors and opinions advocated by Falkenberg…Imposed the penalty of excommunication ipso facto on all Christians whoever they might be…who might dare to propagate, defend, assert, etc. the condemned errors.” 66 Falkenberg's recommendation to exterminate the Polish nation, was a first sign of the evils of genocide which were yet to continue to torment the conscience of mankind in centuries to come.
It would take the international community more than 500 years to provide against attempts to exterminate a people. Soon after the end of World War II, with the horrors of the Holocaust still fresh in mind, the United Nations General Assembly, on December 9, 1948, adopted the text of The Convention on the Prevention and Punishment of the Crime of Genocide.
The Convention defines genocide as “any of the following acts committed with intent to destroy, in whole or in part, a national, ethnical, racial or religious group, such as:
(e) forcibly transferring children of the group to another group.” 67 This notwithstanding, acts committed with intent to destroy, in whole or in part, a national, ethnical, racial or religious group, would continue long after 1948 and right up to our days. New lethal doctrines teaching the inferiority of peoples, nations and cultures would continue to give rise to more terrible crimes. John Paul II rightfully observes that the United Nations was, in a certain sense, born from a conviction that such doctrines were antithetical to peace. He adds that “The Charter's commitment ‘to save future generations from the scourge of war' surely implied a moral commitment to defend every nation and culture from unjust and violent aggression.” 68
An anguished John Paul II would tell the United Nations that “unhappily, the world has yet to learn how to live with diversity, as recent events in the Balkans and Central Africa have painfully reminded us. The fact of ‘difference,' and the reality of ‘the other,' can sometimes be felt as a burden, or even as a threat. Amplified by historical grievances and exacerbated by the manipulations of the unscrupulous, the fear of ‘difference' can lead to a denial of the very humanity of ‘the other:' with the result that people fall into a cycle of violence in which no one is spared, not even the children.” 69 That same concern would three weeks later be recalled by a number of Heads of State and Government during the special commemorative session marking the 50th Anniversary of the United Nations.
“I stand before you today as a representative of those for whom the creation of the United Nations came too late. I come here today in the name of the 6 million whose lives were turned to ashes, whose souls ascended to heaven in burning flames. We will never let them be forgotten,” Yitzak Rabin, then Prime Minister of Israel, told the Special Session only a few weeks before his assassination. “I stand here as a representative of the children who will never smile, in the name of the parents whose children were torn from their arms, of the grandmothers and grandfathers whose screams fell on deaf ears.” 70
A victim of terrible crimes perpetrated in the name of lethal doctrines that teach the inferiority of peoples and cultures who addressed the Special Session was President Nelson Mandela of South Africa. The anti-apartheid activist, imprisoned for twenty-six years for his convictions, thanked “the United Nations for challenging with us a system that defined fellow human beings as lesser beings.” 71
“Human nature will not change, but throughout history, humanity has also shown a deep capacity for compassion and for solidarity— initially to family, and then to wider kin, to clan, to tribe, to city and to nation. Can we now learn to extend our solidarity and compassion to the whole human family in all its rich diversity?” That was the question posed by the President of Ireland, Mary Robinson. 72 Cautioning that “we live in a world of sovereign states: a world where conflict is a constant danger and weapons grow endlessly in power; a world where States on occasion collapse in anarchy and where the passion and fear aroused in ethnic conflict can lead to genocide,” President Robinson urged her peers, who exercise leadership of nations, “to understand and accept this enormous responsibility.” 73
Contemporary horrors to which humanity is still witness demand sharper focus, said the Foreign Minister of Georgia, Alexander Chikvaidze. “We must have the courage and the will to call an aggressor ‘an aggressor,' and genocide ‘genocide.'” 74
The President of Bosnia and Herzegovina, Alija Izetbegovic, lamented: “Freedom and justice have been recalled by some of those who have stridden and continue to stride over the basic rights of people and nations” ‘Judge them according to their deeds…let us listen to what they are saying, but let us see what they are doing.” 75
Thomas Klestil, Federal President of Austria, called for greater determination by the global community in dealing with crimes against humanity. “We can, and we must, learn the lessons from the tragedies that have occurred—and still continue to occur—in many parts of the world. We have to make it clear that no country, no one, shall be allowed to hide behind a wall of sovereignty and silence when human rights are violated—and no offense against humanity must remain unpunished.” 76
Nurturing tolerance is as vital as the determination to punish culprits. “The Solomon Islands—an ethnically and linguistically diverse, developing nation—believes that it is time to formulate an agenda for democracy and tolerance to complement ‘an agenda for peace' and ‘an agenda for development,'” said the Deputy Prime Minister and Minister for Foreign Affairs of the Solomon Islands, Danny Philip. “Based upon the experience to nurture democratic institutions and tolerance, this new agenda will offer humankind the goal of the spiritual security that is the essence of the objectives we seek in the Agendas for peace and development.” 77
Need for spiritual security was evident in the address of Vaclav Havel, President of the Czech Republic. “If the future of mankind is not to be jeopardized by conflicting spheres of civilization and culture, we have no alternative but to shift the ray of our attention from that which separates us to that which unites us. In my vision, the United Nations of the future would become more clearly an instrument serving all inhabitants of our planet, an instrument for pursuing their good life together. The point is not to expropriate any part of their internal identification with their own country, their people, their religious or cultural roots. The point is to forge a world in which everyone could be himself without being menaced by another, in which we all feel that there are values which we all share and whose protection and nurturing are in the interest of us all.” 78
Because they live, nations grow and evolve. Their growth is but rarely in terms of extension of the territories inhabited by its members. Rather, growth is in the sphere of knowledge and understanding. Interpretation of the human experience, and its articulation through the culture transmitted from one generation to the next, is accumulated with the passage of time. Contributions of each age towards this national heritage give a people their identity.
26
Nations, though, do not live and grow in isolation. They are part of a broader community of nations and, within this framework, interact. Throughout history, interaction between nations and peoples occurred much in the same manner in which individual human beings normally interact. Governed by mutual respect, interaction between peoples is in itself positive and fruitful in acting as a stimulus towards further cultural enrichment. Assimilation of concepts and the sharing of knowledge are a natural outcome of the contact between peoples, even when this is primarily through the channels of commerce and trade.
Events which instill turbulence or generate animosity between peoples and nations have been, and remain, significantly less frequent than those of pacific interaction. The impact of such events, though, goes far beyond their quantitative occurrence. They affect the quality of relations between peoples. The glorious pages in the history of every nation, like the most outrageous or humiliating ones, involve those moments when nations enter into conflict. The logic of might then substitutes mutual respect. Each of these occurrences, regardless of who is victor or vanquished, remains inscribed in the annals of history and in the memory of nations and peoples. Hostilities due to conflicting claims on possessions are tormenting because of the painful nature of loss of life, territory, resources or property. Nevertheless, their long-term negative impact is gradually diluted when normal relations resume after the cessation of conflict and armistice. Though resentment and animosity are harbored for long periods of time, there is a degree of adjustment which nations, peoples or individuals can make to the loss of life and possessions.
No equivalent adjustment is possible when assault is aimed at the very soul of the nation—at its beliefs, its collective memories, its distinct identity and culture or, worse, at its very existence. In such cases wounds very seldom heal. They remain open even when submission is apparent. Coercion may extract conformity; it never extinguishes the spirit of a nation. Such aggression, because of its totalitarian character, has been the most agonizing throughout history. It is this latter type of contact between nations, characterized by might and imposition, that John Paul II asked the United Nations to reflect upon. “Every culture is an effort to ponder the mystery of the world and in particular of the human person: it is a way of giving expression to the transcendent dimension of human life,” he said.79
Drawing on this premise, he explained how respect for the culture of others is “rooted in our respect for each community's attempt to answer the question of human life.” 80 The fundamental rights of freedom of religion and freedom of conscience are cornerstones in enabling communities to develop this vital and fundamental aspect of their culture. “No one is permitted to suppress those rights by using coercive power to impose an answer to the mystery of man.” 81 Rights of nations are essentially linked to the safeguard of the values that give peoples their identity. Onslaught on them is tantamount to assault on the life, soul and existence of a nation. “No one—neither a State nor another nation, nor an international organization—is ever justified in asserting that an individual nation is not worthy of existence,” John Paul II admonishes. 82
Wlodkowic's arguments at the Council of Constance on the rights of non-Christian communities and his denunciation of the use of force in converting pagans as a pretext to conquer their lands were a first of their kind. They were not to be the last. The discovery of new infidel territories in Africa and Asia saw the application of the theory of the papal right to distribute infidel territories among Christian rulers. With each new discovery Christian rulers became more energetic in their efforts to discover, lay claim and conquer. As enthusiasm grew, so did ruthlessness towards peoples who inhabited the lands ab origine.
Christopher Columbus' discovery of October 12, 1492 in his search for an alternative route to India led to a new era. The New World held exciting prospects of wealth for the Old World. The exotic discovery of the new territories was made even more fascinating by the first encounter with new peoples and new cultures. Fascination was not to last for long. It fast degenerated into lusty violent conquest and utter ruthlessness towards the indigenous peoples. The cruel atrocities inflicted on native tribes did not take long to outrage consciences. Some who witnessed the horrors firsthand attempted in vain to halt the injustice. On both sides of the Atlantic, a number of brave monks overcame fear of the powerful and began to expose the violence and question its legitimacy. “Tell me: with what right and with what justice do you subject the Indians to so cruel and to so horrible a slavery? With what authority do you wage wars against these people, who were living peaceable in their own countries, where you caused infinite numbers of them to die by your unheard of barbarities and slaughter?” asked Father Martesino in a sermon at Concepcion de la Vega in 1511. 84
It was these abuses and the authority of those who perpetrated them that Franciscus de Vittoria (1480-1546) evaluated, assaying each claim against the standards set by natural law, Christian faith and Catholic teachings. “When we hear of so many massacres, so many plunderings of otherwise innocent men, so many princes evicted from their possessions and stripped of their rule, there is certainly ground for doubting whether this is rightly or wrongly done,” 85 stated de Vittoria, the Dominican counselor of Kings who, for a spell, made his University of Salamanca the intellectual metropolis of Europe.86
The discussion at the University of Salamanca is the second signpost that John Paul II sets as an example of the considerable ethical and juridical reflection on the full recognition of the rights of peoples and nations. De Vittoria discussed the rights of the New World peoples with consternation. His reflection contrasted sharply with the action and argument of those who, ignoring their professed values, transformed the discovery of the new world into an orgy of bloodshed of its original inhabitants which left its indelible mark right up to our days. Justification sought by the perpetrators of massacres, oppression and plunder in the New World was not very different from that claimed by the Teutonic Order a century earlier to legitimize its incursions, killings and pillage in Lithuania—conversion of the heathen indigenous population.
Consequently, de Vittoria's arguments on the rights of the native peoples to conserve their life, property, culture and system of governance, often parallels Wlodkowic's pleadings at Constance. De Vittoria contended that the aborigines were in peaceable possession before the arrival of the Spaniards. Thus, failing just cause, they had to be treated as owners and not be disturbed in their possession. 87 Examining the claim that title emerged from the right of discovery, since “it was by virtue of this title alone that Colombus the Genoan first set sail,” he argued that, under the rule of law of nations, only what belongs to nobody is granted to the first occupant. The territories in question were not without an owner. Hence, in and by itself, title based on the right of discovery “gives no support to a seizure of the aborigines any more than if it had been them who had discovered us.” 88 Unbelief does not deny the aborigines of any right of ownership based on natural or human law. 89 Neither would any claim based on alleged irrationality or unsound mind. This apart, “the true state of the fact is that they are not of unsound
28
mind,” 90 as evinced by their social and political organization which require the use of reason. Refusal by the indigenous people to accept the faith or the Lordship of the Pope also did not give sufficient grounds to declare war.
The claim that “the aborigines in question seem to be slaves by nature because of their incapability of self-government” was unconvincing and, at any rate, did not justify either denial of their rights as owners, or their subjection to colonists under the Principle of Tutelage. However, “even if we admit that the aborigines in question are as inept and stupid as is alleged, still dominion cannot be denied them, nor are they to be classed with the slaves of the civil law.” 91
In a line of argument reminiscent of Wlodkowic at Constance, de Vittoria stressed that “war is no argument for the truth of the Christian faith. Further, the Indians cannot be induced by war to believe, but rather to feign belief and reception of the Christian faith, which is monstrous and a sacrilege.” 92
De Vittoria questioned the claim of annexation by consent of the inhabitants. Fear and ignorance, which vitiate every choice, “were markedly operative in the cases of choice and acceptance under consideration, for the Indians did not know what they were doing; nay they may not have understood what the Spaniards were seeking. Further, we find the Spaniards seeking it in armed array from an unwarlike and timid crowd. Further, inasmuch as the aborigines, as said above, had real lords and princes, the populace could not procure new lords without other reasonable cause, this being to the hurt of their former lords. Further, on the other hand, these lords themselves could not appoint a new prince without the consent of the populace. Seeing then, that in such cases of choice and acceptance as these, there are not present all the requisite elements of a valid choice, the title under review is utterly inadequate and unlawful for seizing and retaining the provinces in question.” 93
Nonetheless, the conquest continued, with the right of might overwhelming the might of right, destroying civilizations and cultures in its march.
“…I am the voice of Christ crying in the wilderness of this Island…the strongest, the most rasping, the harshest, the most frightful voice you ever listened to…you are now living and dying in a state of mortal sin on account of your cruelty and tyranny over these innocent people,” Father Martesino had told his congregation at Concepcion de la Vega in 1511.94 That same rasping, harshest and most frightful voice crying in defense of the rights and freedoms of the indigenous peoples would continue to haunt the civil authorities in the face of abuse and become part of the noble tradition of Catholic teaching on the equal rights of human beings. “Christian civilization is a vehicle of spiritual betterment, even when it is a lumbering vehicle,” wrote John Eppstein in the early thirties in his The Catholic Tradition and the Law of Nations. The moral and social evils attendant upon the material and mechanical developments of modern civilization are so great, he states, that it is more than doubtful whether the introduction of that civilization, when divorced from Christian principles and the rule of natural justice which is part of the Christian tradition confers any benefits upon a ‘primitive' race. “The history of the last four centuries is filled with shameful tragedy in this respect.” 95
Imposing the harshest ecclesiastical sanctions on abusers, the Catholic Church would insist on the indigenous peoples' right to dignity and freedom from slavery and oppression. Writing to the Collector Jurium of the Apostolic Chamber of Portugal, on April 22, 1639, Pope Urban VIII condemned under pain of excommunication any person who reduced the natives of the Indies to slavery or who in any other way denied them of their properties and possessions or separated them from their communities or their families.96
Benedict XIV's encyclical, Immensa Pastorum, of 1741 is another landmark of this
noble tradition. Speaking of the Apostolic See's efforts to relieve South American
Indians of their “afflicted fortunes,” Pope Benedict chastises those
Catholics who had “forgotten all sense of charity…and presumed to reduce
the wretched Indians…to servitude, or to sell them as slaves or to deprive
them of their property and to treat them with such inhumanity that they
were thus hindered from embracing the Christian faith and most strongly
moved to regard it with abhorrence.”97
In his Constitution against the Slave Trade, of November 3, 1839, Gregory XVI, again condemns the slave traffic within the Americas and that of Africans taken there, describing such traffic as inhuman and “a shame to the Christian name.” He harshly denounces the slave trade from Africa as an “inhuman traffic, by which the Blacks, as if they were not men, but rather animals, having been brought into servitude, in
no matter what way, are, without distinction, in contempt of the rights of justice and humanity, bought, sold and devoted sometimes to the hardest labour” 98
In his 1912 encyclical, Lacrimabili Statu, Pope Pius X strongly restates the Church's defense of the rights and dignity of the Indians of South America and the condemnation of slavery. Though slavery was now officially abolished, the condition of many Indian tribes remained deplorable. “When we consider the crimes and outrages still committed against them, our heart is filled with horror, and we are moved to great compassion for this most unhappy race. For what can be so cruel and so barbarous as to scourge men and brand them with hot iron, often for the most trivial causes, often for a mere lust of cruelty; or having suddenly overthrown them, to slay hundreds or thousands in one unceasing massacre; or to waste villages and districts and slaughter the inhabitants, so that some tribes, as we understand, have become extinct in these last few years?” 99 Noting that illegal slavery persists in remote regions, Pius X urges bishops to foster and promote all the good works instituted for the benefit of the Indians. “You will diligently admonish your flocks on their most sacred duty of helping religious missions to the natives who first inhabited the American soil”.Christian charity, which holds all men without distinction of nation or colour, as true brethren, shall be continually preached and commended. And this charity must be made manifest not so much by words as by deeds…appoint further missionary stations where the Indians can find safety and succour.” 100
Condemning the injustices, Pius X reaffirms the ecclesiastical sanctions and declares “guilty of great crime whosoever shall dare or presume to reduce the said Indians to slavery, to sell them, to buy them, to exchange or give them, to separate them from their wives and children, to deprive them from goods and chattels, to transport or send them to other places, or in any way whatsoever to rob them of freedom and hold them in slavery; or to give counsel, help, favour, and work on any pretext of colour to them that do these things, or to preach or teach that it is lawful or to co-operate therewith altogether.” 101
Is John Paul II's reference to the “University of Salamanca” meant to attest consistent continuity in Catholic reflection on the rights of indigenous peoples and to remove misconceptions 102 by setting the record straight? Or is it that the principles discussed then remain of great relevance in solving some of the conflicting realities that the world
30
still faces today?
Notwithstanding the deprivation of rights and massive inhuman treatment inflicted upon them, many indigenous peoples survived. Most still face great difficulties. Recognition of the worth and uniqueness of their cultures is still often denied by central authorities. Whether willed or not, the grim option of assimilation or further marginalization thus frequently prospects itself. Certain overt or covert policies 103 and practices, ranging from the callous to the degrading, adopted until recently in some States still impact directly on the welfare and well-being of the surviving indigenous peoples in different parts of the world. They witness the long way which full recognition of their rights and freedoms still has to go.104 Subsequent to the New World's discovery, patterns of political, economic and cultural imposition were to imprint the expanding European powers' encounter with other peoples and nations. Indigenous culture and development mattered little. Imposition had become the practice.
The Catholic Church's reflection on the sufferings imposed on conquered peoples was to continue. Supreme Pontiffs repeatedly stressed the intrinsic esteem due to societies and their culture. Having learnt from past abuse of religion to justify conquest, the Church evolved a firm code of practice wherever missionary activity was undertaken. It would insist that missionaries know, understand and respect the culture of host societies, and that local responsibility within the Church pass, as early as possible, to native clergy. The Pontifical Congregation for the Propagation of the Faith, founded in 1622, had as its principal goals the establishment of hierarchies in areas where local conditions favoured their foundation and, if possible, placing locally born prelates at their head.105
“The Catholic Church is not a stranger among any people or nation,” wrote Benedict XV soon after World War I in his Apostolic Letter, Maximum illud 106. This vision reflects respect for the wide spectrum of cultural heritage of all nations and peoples. The Catholic Church, stated Pius XII, “has never fostered an attitude of contempt or outright rejection of pagan teachings but, rather, has completed and perfected them with Christian doctrine to a certain extent, consecrated native art and culture...as well as the special customs and traditional institutions of the people.” 107
“The Church does not identify itself with any one culture, not even with European and Western civilization, although the history of the Church is closely intertwined with it,” John XXIII would tell participants to the II World Congress of Negro Writers and Artists in 1959. The Church “is willing, at all times, to recognize, welcome, and even assimilate anything that redounds to the honor of the human mind and heart, whether or not it originates in parts of the world washed by the Mediterranean.” 108
In the first months of his pontificate, John Paul II met Indios at Cuilapan, Mexico. Honoring them as “heirs to the blood and the culture of your noble ancestors,” he reminded them of the sixteenth century missionaries, who “arrived here out of faithfulness to the Church, eager to assimilate your lifestyle and customs in order to reveal better, and give a living expression to the image of Christ.” The missionaries, he said, “were well aware of how important culture is as a vehicle to transmit the faith...In this there can be no distinction of race or of culture…This is a challenge and stimulus to the Church, since being faithful to the genuine and complete message of the Lord, she must open up and interpret the whole human reality in order to instill the strength of the Gospel.” John Paul II would stress, “The Pope and the Church are with you and love you: they love your persons, your culture, your traditions; they admire your marvelous past, they encourage you in the present and they hope so much for the future.” 109
In his Maximum illud, Benedict XV stressed upon the local clergy's role in the Church: “A native priest, having a place of birth, character, mentality, and emotional make-up in common with his countrymen, is in a privileged position for sowing the seeds of the Faith in their hearts: indeed, he knows much better than a stranger the ways of persuasion with them.” 110 This was not a technique contrived to render proselytization efforts more efficient. This was the principled approach that had always inspired the Church and which ensured and enhanced that creative tension between universal and particular which makes the Church Catholic.
In 1951, Pius XII reminded missionaries that their ultimate goal was “to establish the Church firmly in other countries, and subsequently to entrust it to a local hierarchy, chosen from their own people.”111 John XXIII would reiterate this objective. “The touchstone” of the formation of native clergy is their being enabled to be “in a position to assume, quickly and progressively, all the functions, even the most important ones, pertaining to their calling, not only in harmonious cooperation with the foreign clergy, but also on an equal footing with them.” 112 Formation must empower them “to assume rightly the rule of their people.” 113 The intellectual and spiritual education for priests prescribed by the Church always includes a profound knowledge of their own culture and traditions. This helps them “find a more sympathetic audience among the educated citizens of their own countries…especially in those countries which possess an ancient and highly developed civilization of their own,” 114 wrote John XXIII.
Pius XII remarked on the value of the universal vision of humanity and the Church. “Once upon a time it seemed as though the life of the Church used to prosper and blossom chiefly in the regions of ancient Europe,” whence it would flow to the remaining areas of the world. “Today…the life of the Church is shared, as though by a mutual irradiation of energies. Not a few countries on other continents have long since outgrown the missionary stage, and are now governed by an ecclesiastical hierarchy of their own, have their own ecclesiastical organization, and are liberally offering to other Church communities those very gifts, spiritual and material, which they formerly used to receive.” 115
Promotion of imperial interests by foreign missionaries was firmly chastised by Benedict XV: “It would be a sad thing if any missionary should appear to be so oblivious of his dignity as to think of his country on earth rather than of his fatherland in heaven, and be excessively concerned with increasing the power and the glory of his own nation above all other nations. Such conduct would greatly impair the cause of the apostolate, and would cut the sinews of charity in his heart, while lowering his prestige in the eyes of the public.” 116 The process of decolonization after World War II found the Catholic Church with local hierarchies established in many of the newly independent states. The new times called for a restatement of the dual principle of universality and particularity. Noting the sustained growth of local hierarchies and clergy in the developing world, John XXIII reminded of Benedict XV's warning on the danger of undue nationalistic fervor by the clergy, particularly in communities seeking freedom and self-government. Acquisition of political freedom can be accompanied by disorders detrimental to the common good. “We are confident that the native clergy is animated by lofty purposes and sentiments which conform to the general principles of the Christian religion…and…contribute their share to the real interests of their own nations.”117 Unity of the Christian community with the Universal Church would suffer “if the local clergy and population succumb to the influence of a particularist spirit, if they arouse enmity in other nations, and if they are misled and perturbed by an ultra-nationalism which can destroy the spirit of universal Charity, that charity upon which the Church of God is built and is called Catholic.” 118
Charity, the distinct virtue of true Christians, overcomes differences of language and
32
nationality. Healthy tension between universality and particularity is reflected in having the Church's work entrusted to people of the locality. Belonging to and knowing the culture in which they operate, they can bring to the nation the redeeming message of Christ and, in turn, bring to the Church their culture's contribution in seeking the “mystery of man.” 119
The symbiotic relationship between the local and the universal Church is particularly evident in “regions where the enemies of God and Jesus Christ are harassing and threatening to destroy Christian communities by violence and persecutions.” 120 The fortitude of Christian communities in facing danger and adversity has been a source of inspiration for the Church since its very beginning. Persecution, which in recent times impacted so heavily on the Christian communities in the Soviet bloc, is still present in other areas. However, the threat to communities of believers does not occur only when violence is physical. Constant undermining of values and the belitt