Mozote

A few weeks back we visited Mozote- a northern department where 1000 people were killed in a brutal massacre by the Salvadoran army during the civil war. This is the third time I have visited and every single time I am completely rocked by the horrors that were committed in that massacre, so many others during the war and other horrible human rights violations across the world- which there are so many more than we often are aware of.

The army arrived in Mozote accusing people of being involved with the leftist guerrilla movement. The US government funded this anti communism movement and financially supported the horrific death of an unimaginable number of people. The army killed off thousands of people believing that if the guerrillas didn't have anyone to support them they wouldn't survive. Priests, teachers, protesters and anyone who encouraged the liberation and organization of the poor were persecuted. They along with so many innocent people were killed in an attempt to protect the power and wealth of the Salvadoran Conservative party.

The army arrived in Mozote and ordered every single person out of their house. Then separated the men, women and children into three different houses and group by group tortured and killed all but one survivor. There is a beautiful memorial to all the innocent, beautiful, joy filled children that were killed. And on the wall with a mosaic of a rainbow scene is a list of the names and ages of each child. Babies as young as three years old were murdered alongside their older siblings. And while no matter the age killing someone so brutally is impossible to understand, the murder of young, innocent children brings home the pain of the war to a whole other level.

When we are in Mozote or visiting the museum at the UCA with artifacts of the Jesuits killed or in Chalate hearing testimonies of the massacres that occurred there... Again and again we are left trying desperately to understand how a human being could possibly commit such atrocities to another human being. It is absolutely terrifying to understand that someone not that different from ourselves was able to look in the eyes of a young child and take their life. I will never be able to really wrap my mind around it. But I do see the way we can shut ourselves off from each other. Close off from the suffering of another and interact with the world out of our pain an suffering. I remember hearing in history classes that we learn about these things so they won't happen again- but they keep happening. And it makes me sick to my stomach to hear about them. Yesterday I heard about a 5 year old that was being intiated into a gang and had to kill his family to enter and instead killed himself.  Wars that the US governments continues to fund and support. Families who live next door to us and don't have enough to eat. Violence within families. There are a million examples. And so often I think what motivates these atrocities are greed, power, wealth, comfort- things that we somehow are convinced matter more than life and love. 

But we also have ways to not let these things win. And so many people are examples of how we can continue to fight against these atrocities, disconnections and the continued cycle of suffering. And I think it starts with simply being with each other, listening to our stories, walking together in our suffering and pain so that instead of having it come out in resentment or hurtfulness to another it can become a force of community and new life. 

Reflecting at the end of the day at Mozote we talked about what the time there called us to do. I want to carry the pain of Mozote with me. Like I said every time I'm there my heart is broken for these families and I have a visceral reaction to how horrible it was. But I don't only wanna be in touch with that when I'm there. I wanna remember the people of Mozote and so many other places whose lives have been taken so unjustly everyday. And sharing their stories is one way to do that.

Just like always in this country- even in this story of such deep pain- there is a glimmer of hope. Rufina is the single survivor of the massacre  at Mozote and her story is one of such courage and choosing life. As she stood in line waiting to be killed, listening to the screams of her children she decided to escape. She got down on her hands and knees and crawled away hiding in the bushes, running into the mountains and somehow surviving to tell the story of Mozote. If she were caught she surely would have been killed, likely more brutally than already planned and likely with consequences for the others. Even after surviving she risked endless persecution by the army for the rest of her life. And rather than ring paralyzed by fear and letting death take her- she took a chance. We stood in the spot where she made this decision. And I tried to imagine myself doing the same. I don't think I could have done that. And in the same way I want to carry with me the pain of this day I want to hold onto her example of courage and faith. If she had not survived the story of Mozote would have disappeared with so many other atrocities- but Rufina lived to tell it, and those of us who have heard it we too live to tell it. To keep fighting for a world where we choose love, where we look into each others eyes and hearts, where we tell our stories, heal together and know that we are capable of causing great pain.