.,..-..

_]

22

Killing Priests, Nuns,

Women, Children
Jean Franco

The murder of three American nuns in El Salvador

in December 1980, the murder of priests in Brazil
and Argentina, the torture of pregnant women in
Uruguay, the farming our of "terrorists"' children
to military families in the southern cone, the admonitory raping of women in front of their families
in several Latin American countries, the l'vlexican
army's attack on unarmed male and female students in Tlatelolco in 1968, the recent kidnapping
in broad daylight of a well-known writer, university teacher, and feminist, Alaide Foppa, in Guatemala, the dislodging of Indian communities from
traditional lands, plus countless other incidents, all
appear more and more to be the well-thought-out
atrocities of a concerted offensive. It is part of a
war that has pitted unequal forces against one
another- on the one hand, the overarmed military
who have become instruments of rhe latest stage of
capitalist development and, on the other, not only
the left but also certain traditional institutions, the
Indian community, rhe family, and the Church
(which still provide sanctuary and refuge for resistance). These institutions owe their effectiveness as
refuges to historically based moral rights and traditions, rather like the immunities which (before the
recent attack on the Spanish embassy in Guatemala) had accrued to diplomatic space. Homes
were, of course, never immune from entry and
search, but until recentlv, it was generally males
who were rounded up and taken away, often leaving women to carry on and even transmit resistance
from one generation to another. Families thus inherited opposition as others inherited positions in
the government and bureaucracy.

Bur what is novv at stake is the assault on such

formerly immune territories. The attack on the
Cathedral in El Salvador in 1980 and the assassination of Archbishop Romero, for instance, showed
how little the Church could now claim to be a
sanctuary. The resettlement of Indians in Guatemala, of working-class families from militant
sectors of Buenos Aires, the destruction of the
immunirv formerly accorded to wives, mothers,
children, nuns, and priests have all taken away
every immune space. This assault is not as incompatible as it might at first seem with the military
government's organization of its discourse around
the sanctity of Church and family. Indeed these
corwenient abstractions, which once referred to
well-defined physical spaces, have subtly shifted
their range of meaning. Thus, for instance, the
"saucepan" demonstrations of Chilean women
during the last months of the Allende regime
plainly indicated the emergence of the family as
consumer in a society which, under Pinochet, was
to acquire its symb~lic monument - the spiralshaped tower of the new labyrinthine shopping
centre. The Church, once clearly identified as rhe
Catholic Church, and the parish as its territory, has
now been replaced by a rather more flexible notion
of religion. The conversion of massive sectors of
the population all over Latin America to one form
or another of Protestantism, the endorsement by
Rios Montt, vvhen President of Guatemala, of
born-again Christianity, and the active encouragement, in other countries, of fundamenta-list seers,
all indicate a profound transformation which,
until recently, had gone almost unnoticed. RadiO

and television now pr01~

yatized religious experien
to be anchored in the phy
and in the continuity oft
This process can be des
zation," although I use rldifferent from that used lIn their \"iew (see Gilles De
Anti-Oedipus: Capita/is
:.Jew York, 1'377), primiti
chine) does not distinguisl
the rest of the social and p
are inscribed on the soci u
chine that distinguishes p(
and affiliations). In the pri
the mother earth. \Xlhat [
scribe is a process of absrr
with the emergence of the
inscribes people according
doing so "divides the earth
men to a new imperial ins
to the abstract unity of tl
"pseudo-territoriality," ar
tion of abstract signs (e.g.
the earth and a privatizati
state or private property
carries this abstraction me
sons and making repress
exercised not only in the\\
but within the family, the
ism where desire can be c
(as with Oedipus).
What seems unsatisfa
Guattari's description of
though, reading these aut
the family's restrictive and
do not recognize the fami
refuge and shelter. \Vhat
home (and what seduct
the convent) is that it is an
one's back on the world.
(albeit in an idealized fa
c~uld nourish subjectivitie
italism. (Thomas Mann
good example of the su
mother inculcating into he
~im incapable of reprodw
Latin America, this sense c
ness that attaches to certait
the virgin, the nun, and
greater significance, both I
the home retained a trad

KILLING PRIESTS, NUNS, WOMEN, CHILDREN

uns,
en

at stake is the assault on such

te territories. The attack -ontlle
alvador in 1980 and the assassinlOp Romero, for instance, showed
:hurch could now claim to be a
esettlement of Indians in G-;;;rteng-class families from militant
JS Aires, the destruction of the
rly accorded to wives, ~others,
md priests have all tak~~y
ace. This assault is not as incom1t at first seem with the -J11ilitary
;anization of its discourse around
:hurch and family. Indeed ~hese
actions, which once referred to
sica] spaces, have subtly shifted
teaning. Thus, for instance, the
onstrations of Chilean women
months of the Allende regime
the emergence of the family as
:iety which, under Pinochet, was
:nbolic monument - the spiralthe new labyrinthine shopping
:h, once clearlv identified as the
and the parish ~sits territory, has
.l by a rather more flexible notion
onversion of massive sectors of
over Latin America to one form
testantism, the endorsement by
~n President of Guatemala, of
ianity, and the active encourage~ntries, of fundamentalist sects,
ofound transformation which,
I gone almost unnoticed. Radio
)W

d television now promote a serialized and prian ed re!io-ious experience which no longer needs
vanz
"'
.
.
.
.
to be anchored in the phys1cal reality ot the pansh
din the continuity of family hfe.
a\his process can be described as "deterritoriali.on ;, although I use this term in a sense rather
D tl '
.
different from that used by Deleuze and Guattan.
rnthelr~iew (see Gilles Deleuze and Felix Guattari,
;:;;t;Oedipus: Capitalism and Schizophrenia,
New York, 1977), primitive society (the social machine) does not distinguish between the family and
t11efestof the social and political field, all of which
are inscribed on the socius (that is, the social mac~th~t distinguishes people according to status
and affiliations). In the primitive tribe, the socius is
rhe mother earth. What Deleuze and Guattari describe is a process of abstraction which takes place
with the emergence of the despotic state that now
inscribes people according to their residence, and in
doing so "divides the earth as an object and subjects
men to a new imperial inscription, in other words
to the abstract unity of the State." This they call
"pseudo-territoriality," and see it as the substitution of abstract signs (e.g. money) for the signs of
the earth and a privatization of the earth itself (as
state or private property). Advanced capitalism
carries this abstraction much further, recoding persons and making repression into self-repression,
exercised not only in the vvorkplace and the streets
but within the family, the one place under capitalism where desire can be coded and territorialized
(as with Oedipus).
What seems unsatisfactory in Deleuze and
Guattari's description of the family is that even
t~?_i:~g_ll~ reading these authors, we may recognize
t~-~aJ11ily's restrictive and repressive qualities, we
?_o not recognize the family's power as a space of
refuge -and shelter. What seduces us about the
home- (and what seduces some people about
the convent) is that it is_a refuge, a place for turning
~ack on the world. Max Horkheimer saw
(~it_.in an idealized fashion) that the family
c~ourish subjectivities that were alien to capi.t<!lli_;n. (Thomas Mann's Buddenbrooks is a
g??d example of the subversive effects of the
mother inculcating into her son all that will make
~m in~apable of reproducing the work ethic.) In
~nAmerica, this sense of refuge and the sacred~hat attaches to certain figures like the mother,
~irgin, the nun, and the priest acquire even
gr~t~r_significance, both because the Church and
~~:_home retained a traditional topography and

197

traditional practices over a very long period, and

also because during periods when the state was
relatively weak these institutions were the only
functioning social organizations. They were states
within the state, or even counterstates, since there
are certain p~rishes and certain families which
have nourished traditions of resistance to the
state and hold on to concepts of "moral right" (E.
P. Thompson's term), which account for their opposition to "modernization" (i.e. integration into
capitalism). This is not to say that the patriarchal
and hierarchical family, whose priority was the
reproduction of the social order, has not rooted
itself in Latin American soil. But the family has
been a powerful rival to the state, somehow more
real, often the source of a maternal power which is
by no means to be despised, particularly when, as
in contemporary Latin America, the disappearance of political spaces has turned the family
(and the mother, in particular) into a major institution of resistance.
It is only by recognizing the traditional power of
the family and the Church and the association of
this power with a particular space (the home, the
Church building) that we can begin to understand
the significance of recent events in Latin America.
Beginning in the fifties and early sixties, "development" brought new sectors of the population,
including women, into the labour force. The expansion of transnational companies into Latin
America depended on the pool of cheap labour
formed from the uprooted peasantry and the
ever-growing sector of urban underclasses. The
smooth functioning of this new industrial revolution was imperilled by the guerrilla movements
and movements of national liberation which, in
turn, confronted the counterinsurgency campaigns
of the sixties that "modernized" the armies of
Latin America, making them pioneers in the
newest of torture methods and inventive masters
of the art of "disappearance." It is this counterinsurgency movement which has destroyed both
the notion of sacred space and the immunity
which, in theory if not in practice, belonged to
nuns, priests, women and children.
Though women have never enjoyed complete
immunity from state terror - indeed rape has
been the casually employed resource of forces of
law and order since the Conquest - the rapidity
with which the new governments have been able to
take immunity away from the traditional institutions of Church and family calls for explanation.

198

JEAN FRANCO

Such an explanation \\ould i1wohe understanding

not only the particular incidents mentioned at the
beginning of this essay, but the profound consequences of destroying what Bachehrd, in The
Poetics ol Space, called the 'images of felicitous
spaces:' or topophilia. Bachelard's investigations
'seek to determine the human ,alue of the sorts of
space that may be grasped, that may be defended
against adverse forces, the space we lo,e. For diverse reasons, and with the differences entailed by
poetic shadings, thi, is eulogized space. Attached to
irs protecti\e \alue, which can be a positive one,
are also imagined values. which soon become dominant." In this essay, I want to give these felicitous
spaces a more concrete and historical existence
than Bachelard's phenomenology allows, for
onlv in this wav can we understand the really
extraordinary sacrilege that we are now witness-

extended building housing the archaic, the mvthic

and the hallucinating desires which are outlawed
from the rest of societv. It is this aspect of the
Hispanic" imaginary which Buiiuel's films also capture. Archaic in topograplw, its huge, empt1, decrepit rooms not only sealed it off entireh- from the
outside world but made it into a taboo territon:
the violation of which tempted and terrorized tl~;
male imagination.
Finally there was the brothel, the house whose
topograph, mimed that of the convent, with irs
small cell-like rooms Jnd which, as described bv
.\hrio Vargas Llosa in his novel The Green H(JI!S~,
w::1s another 1ersion of the oasis. As the cotwenr
gathered to itself rhe women who were no longer
sexu::1l objects, the green house offered them as the
common recepwcles of ::1 male seed absoln~d from
the strict social rules th::Jt gmerned reproduction.

1ng.

Although it is impossible to separate the literary

from the social, literature is a good place to begin
to understand this Latin American imaginan with
its clearly demarcated spaces. In common with
!vlediterranean countries, public space in Latin
America was strictly sep;uated from the private
space of the house (brorhel), home, and convent,
that is, spaces which were clearly marked as "feminine." These spaces gave women a certain territorial but restricted power base and at the same time
offered the "felicitous'' spaces for the repose of the
warrior. [ ... ]
The \'ery structure of the Hispanic house emphasized that it was a private world, shut off from
public activity. It was traditionally constructed
around two or more patios, the windows onto
the street being shuttered or barred. Inside, the
patios with their plants and singing birds represented an oasis, a domestic replica of the perfumed
garden. Respectable women only emerged from
the house when accompanied and when necessarv.
Their lives were almost as enclosed as those of
their counterparts, the brothel whore and the
nun. In the fifties, I lived in such a house where
windows onto the outside were felt to mark the
beginning of danger as indeed, after curfew, the\
did. A prison yes, bur one that could easily be
idealized as a sanctuary given the violence of political life.
The convent was also a sanctuary of sorts, one
that gathered into itself the old, the homeless, and
the dedicated to God. In Jose Donoso's nmel The
Obscene Bird ol Night, the convent has become an

Blacks, mulattoes, mixtures of all kinds, drunks, somnolent or frightened half-breeds, skinm Chinese, old
men, small groups of young Spaniards and Italians
walking through rhe patios our of curiosity. Thev
walked ro and fro passing the open doors of the
bedrooms, stopping to look in from rime to time.
The prostitutes, dressed in cotton dresses were seated
at the back of the rooms on low boxes. i\'lost of them
sat with their legs apart showing their sex, the "fox"
which was sometimes sha,ed and sometimes not.
(Jose .\Luia Arguedas, The Fox Abrwe and the Fox
Beloll')
In describing these spaces, I am not describing
categories of women but an imaginary topography in which the "feminine" was rigidly compartmentalized and assigned particular territories.
Individual women constantly transgressed these
boundaries but the territOries themselves were
loaded with significance and so inextricably
bound to the sacred that they were often raken
for spaces of immunity. With the increJse in stare
terrorism in the sixties, mothers used this traditional immunity to protest, abandoning rhe
shelter of homes for the public square, raking
charge of the dead and the disappeared and the
prisoners whose existence no one else wished ro
acknowledge. \Xlith the seizure of power lw the
militarY, the dismantling of political parties and
trade unions, this activity acquired a special importance. Homes became hiding places, bomb factories, escape hatches, people's prisons. from rhe
signifier of passivitv and peace, "mother" became

-----------

KILLING PRIESTS, NUNS, WOMEN, CHILDREN

'ousing the archaic the

ad esues
- w h'l
'
mythic
Ic 1 are
.
.
our1awed
ICiety. It IS this aspect of h
whiCh Buiiuel's films 1
t e
1
a so cap
'~grap 1)~, it~ huge, empt}S de~
Y sealed It ott enrirelv fro -h
. .
.
mr e
1a d e It mto a taboo t . - ~
~l
erntorv
- 1 tempted and terrorized;~

"T~nifier of resistance. ;\;othing illustrates this in

as"'

le lw Rodo 1to
more dramatic tash10n
t han an arne
\'(~{1511 (an Argentine writer who would himselt
'disappear" shortly after 1niting this piece). His
daughter, who was the mother of a small child and
whose lcJ\er had already disappeared, was one ot a
group of munto!leros killed in the army attack on a
house, an attack which deployed 150 men, tanks
;nd helicopters. A soldier who had participated in
rhis battle described the girl's final moments.

1b

the br~thel, the house whose

that ot the convent, II..It h Its
.

The battle lasted more than an hour and a half. A

man and woman were shooting from upstairs. The girl
caught our attention because eyery time she fired and
we dodged out of the wc1y, she laughed. All at once
rhere was silence. The girl let go of the machine gun,
stood up on the parapet and opened her arms. \'<ie
stopped firing without being ordered to and we
could see her quite well. She was skinny, with short
hair and she was wearing a nightdress. She began to
ralk to us calmlv but dearly-. I don't remember evervthing she said, but I remember the bst sentence. In
bet, I could not sleep for thinking of it. "You are not
killing us," she said, "we choose to die." Then she and
rhe man put pistols to their foreheads and killed themselves in front of us.

' and which, as described bv

n his novel The Green H
ouse
ot the oasis. As the conven;
women who were no 1onger
een house offered them as the
ot a male seed absolved from
that governed reproduction.
tures of all kinds, drunks, somtlt-breeds, skinny Chinese, old
young Spaniards and Italians
panos our of curiositY. Thev
ssing the open doors. of th~
' Iook in from time to time.
I m cotton dresses were seared
s on low boxes. ;\lost of them
:showing their sex, the '"fox"
shaved and sometimes not.
Tbe Fox Abote ,md the Fox

>paces, I am not describina

.
.but an Imaginary
topogra-"
mme" Vias rigidly compartned particular territories.
Jstanrlv transgressed these
:rritories themselves were
nee and so inextricablv
:1ar they were often rake~
\\'ith the increase in state
;, mothers used this tradprotest, abandoning the
:he public souare takin"
I
-l
'
"'
the disappeared and the
lee no one else wished ro
setzure of power b1 the
g of political partie; and
lty acquired a special ime hiding places, bomb hc>eople's prisons. From the
I peace, "mother" became

When the army took over the house, they found a

little girl sitting unharmed on the bed and five dead
bodies.
The significance of such an event goes far
beyond the rights and wrongs of local politics.
Like the murder of the nuns in El Salvador and
the kidnapping and killing of Alaide Foppa in
Guatemala, it is a cataclysmic e1ent which makes
it impossible to think of the Utopian in terms of
space or of the feminine in the traditional sense.
.\lost disconcerting of all, the destruction of these
Utopian spaces has been conducted not by the left
but by the right-wing militarv who have nothing
left to offer but the unattainable commodity (unattainable, that is, for all but the army and the
technocrats). It is true that the military of some
southern-cone countries are now in (temporary?)

----------~----------~~----

199

eclipse, but the smell of the cadaver will not be

dispelled by the commodity culture, a debt-ridden
economy and the forms of restored political democracy.
It is some time since Herbert Marcuse drew
attention to the terrors of a clesublimated world,
one in which such spaces and sanctuaries had been
wiped our. His analysis and that of Horkheimer
can be seen as overburdened with nostalgia for
that gemiit/ic{; interior of European bourgeois
family life in which all the children played instruments in a string quartet. But even if we can no
longer accept the now challenged Freudian language of his analysis, he undoubtedly deserves
credit for monitoring the first signals from an
empty space once occupied by archaic but powerful figures. Feminist criticism based on the critique
of patnarchy and the traffic in women has rightly
shed no tears for this liquidation of mother figures
whose power was also servitude. Yet such criticism
has perhaps underestimated the oppositional
potentialities of these female territories whose importance as the only sanctuaries became obvious
at the moment of their disappearance.
This is, however, an essay without a conclusion.
I wrote it, thinking of an old friend of mine, Alai de
Foppa, who in 1954 provided sanctuary for those
of us left behind in Guatemala and trying to get out
after the Castillo Armas coup. I have a vivid
memory of her reciting a poem about her five
children "like the five fingers of her hand." Today
there are only three children left. During the 1960s
and 1970s, Alai de became the driving force behind
the feminist movement in ;\lexico. She was used to
going back home once a year to Guatemala to visit
her mother. In 1980 she did not come back. A
Guatemalan newspaper reported that her whereaboms and that of her chauffeur were ''unknown."
To this day, Abide "continues disappeared" in the
words of the newspaper, like many other men,
vvomen, priests, nuns, and children in Latin America who no longer occupv space bur who have a
place.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .