Until I read Ada Maria Isasi-Diaz’s chapter from her book, Mujerista Theology: A Theology for the Twenty-First Century (Orbis Books, 1996), my
ideas about solidarity came from my knowledge of well-known political
movements, namely the Solidarity Movement originating in the Gdansk shipyard in
Poland during late summer 1980, and the International Solidarity Movement of
2001 advocating nonviolent support of the Palestinian cause in the conflict
with Israel. In addition to the word, solidarity, I was familiar with two
names: Lech Walesa in Poland who, after
leading the labor movement, went on to become president of that nation; and Rachel
Corrie, who was killed by an Israeli Defense Forces bulldozer as she attempted
to block the destruction of a Palestinian home.
These were the first thoughts to
come to mind when I read the title of Isasi-Diaz’s book chapter, “Solidarity: Love of Neighbor in the Twenty-First
Century.” I also did not know that love
of neighbor went by different nomenclature in other centuries. Hasn’t solidarity always been about standing with
someone, physically and spiritually, and if so, solidarity should be just one
more way of loving one’s neighbor. In
considering my neighbor, we may not look alike, but we share common ground, and
therefore, if I am in solidarity with him, I am willing to put myself next to
him and be subjected to the same experiences and consequences for actions taken
in support of his cause. What has
changed now that I have read Isasi-Diaz is that this is one of the tenets of
evangelical poverty, the act of putting oneself in the service of others who
are poor and destitute, suffering through the circumstances, the injustice and
discrimination that they must endure, all while standing with them in solidarity.
Ada Maria Isasi-Diaz, who died
on May 13th at the age of 69, was a professor of ethics and theology
at Drew University in New Jersey. She
believed most fervently that women should be ordained as Catholic priests, and
if that were possible, she would have been first to sign up. Her special area of research was mujerista theology, a study that
celebrates the role of Hispanic women, especially women of poverty, in bringing
Christian faith into the struggles of everyday life. The word mujer
is Spanish for woman.
She begins her chapter on
solidarity by recounting the story of her neighbor in Peru, where she was a
missionary. He asked her why she left the United States. Isasi-Diaz tried to explain that she was
practicing evangelical poverty, hoping to live among impoverished people
struggling against injustice. The man
pointed out one very salient fact: she
could always leave and return to her first world nation; however, he and his
family did not have any other option but to live in those circumstances. For Isasi-Diaz, it was of utmost importance
not to simply do for others; she wanted to be with them physically and
spiritually, experiencing every day what the poor go through to survive. For her, solidarity meant not just in
partnership with or standing together, not in agreement with or having sympathy
for, another. Her neighbor’s words
reminded her that she could not just be in solidarity when working as a
missionary and leave it behind when her time was up. It was also not enough to be sympathetic to
another’s cause, or offer support in spirit.
True solidarity must be practiced; it must consist of physical, concrete
action taken over a lifetime.
Solidarity is more than
charity. Christians practice charitable
giving. They give food, clothing, and
money, but donations alone are not enough.
Charity alleviates immediate suffering, but charity with solidarity
means living with the poor and sharing resources, a deeper, more extensive
commitment. In Christian communities,
according to Isasi-Diaz, charity often means love thy neighbor, but she
suggests that solidarity is the more effective way to demonstrate this
love. She creates a syllogism to
illustrate this point: salvation, the
ultimate goal of a Christian, means to love one’s neighbor; love of neighbor
means living in solidarity; solidarity, therefore, means salvation.
To be in solidarity with another
means understanding the interconnectedness of all human beings, especially in
circumstances of oppression and privilege, wealth and poverty, oppressors and
the oppressed. Communities who struggle
for justice must join together in a cohesive front and from their shared
feelings and experiences, take unified action.
This solidarity and cohesive action results in liberation, and
Christians must participate in the ongoing process of liberation to reach what
Isasi-Diaz calls the “kin-dom of God.”
The word “kingdom” she finds too sexist, she writes in a note to the
text, and it assumes God is male. A
kingdom also denotes a hierarchal and elitist structure, whereas the word
“kin-dom” promotes family, the idea that all humans are brothers and
sisters. In this context, liberation
equals salvation and salvation equals liberation, and one cannot exist without
the other.
In Isasi-Diaz’s construction, a
person is connected to a horizontal and vertical axis: God is the vertical connection, and one human
being to other human beings is the horizontal connection; a person must have a
loving relationship with each entity. In
this construction, an oppressor is alienated from God and other human beings
because of his behavior. On the other
end of the spectrum, a person must struggle against oppression and the
resulting alienation to affect a personal conversion before she can join in
solidarity with others and return to a complete relationship with both God and
humanity. The oppressed must struggle to
see a new way to live for all human beings; otherwise they remain trapped in
their oppression. However, their freedom
from oppression means setting free the oppressors, and this is the interesting
point: the oppressors are just as
trapped in their behavior as those they oppress. Both parties sink into alienation from God and
humanity when they lose themselves in this behavior. They deny God and their own humanity when
they oppress, and the oppressed lose their connection with the grace of God and
the realization of their humanity when they remain trapped in the vicious cycle
of anger and vengeance common to people plagued by injustice.
With whom should Christians be
in solidarity? They should be in
solidarity with “the ones who are exploited, who suffer systemic violence, the
victims of cultural imperialism,” Isasi-Diaz writes. She further defines the poor as ones for whom
survival is the continual struggle of life.
They often suffer life-threatening hunger, or are illiterate and exploited. Because of a deep and entrenched ignorance, they
may not even realize the source of their suffering. People beaten down by injustice are
marginalized and powerless. They experience
sexism, racism, and classism. The oppression
and domination reach across all levels of society, and can be found in
religion, government, businesses, families, and relationships. The common denominators of oppressive
structures and relationships, however, are control and domination.
Joining in solidarity with those
in distress means allowing commonality of feelings and interests to develop and
flourish, says Isasi-Diaz. She argues
that if society takes solidarity as a cornerstone of its foundation, radical
change can occur. This change will
require the development of insights and strategies to replace the twin evils of
control and domination. However, before
any system-wide change can take place, the transformation must begin on a
personal level. Person-to-person relief
of oppression will start the process to remedy wider human alienation and
oppression. The oppressed must let go of
vengeance and anger, and practice mutuality—recognition of common interests—to
avoid becoming the oppressors once the tide shifts. True solidarity requires the practice of
mutuality. Isasi-Diaz outlines the steps
to this practice. The parties must
dialogue with truth and honesty, and come to a “circular understanding of
interests and mutuality.” This will lead
to an important component of mutuality:
conscientization.
Conscientization means
recognizing that something is wrong in the oppressive situation, leading to a
thorough and honest examination of all aspects and perspectives on the part of
the oppressed and the oppressor.
Isasi-Diaz makes clear that conscientization is not just a theory, but
must be practiced to reach an understanding.
The oppressed do not often see the shared interests they have with other
victims because they are fighting each other for survival under the
oppressors. She also points out that
quite often the oppressed actually become dependent on the oppressors for their
survival. This leads to imprisonment in
the circumstances of oppression. Through
open, honest dialogue between the oppressed and the oppressors, conscientization
can be achieved, but the parties must truly listen to each other and become
what Isasi-Diaz calls, “friends.” The
word is often a weak one, sometimes even denoting a casual relationship, but in
her terminology, friends listen and dialogue truthfully, all keys to
conscientization. Without this dialogue
leading to conscientization and finally, mutuality, the heart of solidarity
will be missing. With this dialogue, revolutionary
politics can be achieved; solidarity requires this commitment to push the
oppressor and oppressed into the kin-dom of God. Justice will prevail, and love of neighbor
requires justice. Solidarity and justice
are the ways to understanding and living the gospel teachings.
Ada Maria Isasi-Diaz emphasizes
even more the need to be in solidarity with the poor by actually being with
them physically and spiritually. Living
in such a status-driven, materialistic society, this will be extremely
difficult for many people to accomplish.
The ostentatiousness is ingrained in the culture, especially here in
America. Self-image is tied directly to
occupation and wealth, so surrendering such false trappings of success and
purposely living a life of poverty, or living in solidarity with the poor, will
be impossible for those who remain shallow and superficial. People often do not want to recognize the
common ground and mutuality they hold with the poor. It is a matter of pride, which is its own
trap. Therefore, to be in solidarity
with those who are suffering through poverty and injustice means liberating
oneself from the prison of arrogance and materialism. Humility in this case means freedom,
liberation and salvation. Recognizing
the face of God in the homeless man on the street as well as being with him in
complete solidarity also equates to freedom, liberation and salvation.
In terms of the oppressed coming
to be dependent on their oppressors, I found a real-world example last week
when I interviewed Nick Bryan of the St. Vincent de Paul Society San Fernando
Valley Conference. He told me that
impoverished people who approach his organization for help are often dependent
on government aid to survive. When for
whatever reason the check does not arrive in the mail, they have no plan for
survival. They call his office and
simply want to substitute the aid from his organization for what they lost in
government benefits. He has to work all
that much harder to institute a preferred option for the poor to escape their
situation; otherwise, they will remain dependent on the handouts forever, a
perfect example of the oppressed dependent on the oppressors.
It is not enough to simply
alleviate the immediate suffering of the oppressed. People must be offered a way out of poverty,
and at times must be forced down this path to liberation. Too many assistance programs institutionalize
poverty by making the oppressed dependent on the oppressors. Evangelical poverty means living with the
impoverished, forsaking material wealth and comfort in order to understand and
be in solidarity with those who thirst for justice. Ada Maria Isasi-Diaz’s discussion of
solidarity concludes with the idea that the permanent cycle of poverty and
oppression must be broken and those suffering in dire situations be taught that
there is a way to recover their dignity and secure justice for their future. When the day is done, no one should be left
behind.
Your essay reminded me of Simone Weil, who perhaps is an extreme example. She literally starved herself rather than eat while her compatriots themselves could not, eventually contracted tuberculosis, and died at the age of 34. She could have stayed in academia and just written about the things she felt strongly about. Instead, she went to live with them, finding it not enough to just be compassionate. Enjoy your essays. Keep 'em coming! :)
ReplyDeleteThank you, Annie. We did in fact discuss Simone Weil in our class. I did some research on her, and found myself intrigued by her story, especially how her life ended. The entire course which focused on poverty was a real eye-opener, although it involved lots of writing and work in the community. I will send you an email this week and catch up.
ReplyDeleteTake care