EUGENIO, AN EVANGELICAL MARTYR
The Salvadoran Civil War made life difficult for many people. Industrialists, capitalists, merchants, farmers, workers, peasants, soldiers, and guerrilas; all felt the agony of war. Many people lost their homes, property, business, parents, children, friends, and their respect for life. The only institution that gained anything by the war was the evangelical church. The church grew rapidly during those years. Some of those who accepted the Lord and joined the church were soldiers. This story is about a young guerrilla soldier who, during the viciousness of war, encountered a warrior general whose authority was unquestionable. The guerrilla soldier accepted the invitation of the new general to join another army. Eugenio’s experience, although he never was able to join a local church, influenced others to know his new leader. His bravery and courage in the face of death provided encouragement to others who wanted to fight a new war, join the Salvadoran church, and save El Salvador from sure destruction.
During the first years of the Salvadoran Civil War, the leftest guerrillas, supported by Cuba, Nicaragua, and international Communism, almost caused the government to yield to Marxist demands. In efforts to appease left-wing socialists, the government nationalized banks, the telephone company, and railroads. Fearing even more nationalization of industry, wealthy investors shipped to Venezuela, Europe and the United States over two billion dollars in an attempt to preserve their capital: capital that could have been used to create jobs and feed the hungry in a free, capitalist society. However, unanswered guerrilla attacks on urban and rural industry was sufficient reason to believe that the country was near collapse. Guerrillas were strongly intrenched in much of the national territory of El Salvador: by 1984 some scholars suggest that they controlled as much as 40 percent of the national territory.
One area under guerrilla control was Guazapa mountain and the area around it. Guazapa was only twenty-five miles from San Salvador, only a night’s journey for an experienced soldier. One of the villages that dotted the western skirt of the mountain where neither government nor guerrilla troops had control was San José Guayabal, a sleepy little hamlet on one of the major routes up to the top. Scores of the young men and women of this village voluntarily or involuntarily bore rifles for one or the other armies; young people who had grown up neighbors, played together with the same plastic soccer ball, roamed the same mountains, sat side by side in ajoining desks in the local elementary school, yesterday’s friends, today’s enemies. Because of its location both guerrilla and government soldiers passed though the village, buying cokes, stealing chickens, and abusing citizens. If by chance troops of the opposing armies met in the town square, bullets flew, chickens squawked, dogs fled, and people died. The citizens were accustomed to danger. Many had died, others had fled fearing the violence.
Though violence often overflowed into the streets, there was one place where peace flowed freely; a church and three pastors who were not intimidated by the severity of violence. The small evangelical church, located on a slope overlooking a main street, was a bastion of hope in high seas of despair; the only church in a neighborhood of more than 1000 persons. In five short years it had grown from a meeting in Pastor Miranda’s home to over 150 members. Pastor Miranda’s two brothers shared the pastoral responsibilities. Often local people, Catholics, would come to the church to pray and find peace since the door of their church closed years earlier.
Often young people would come and set on the sloping lawn and talk. Young members of the church shared the gospel and testified to them of mighty miracles that God had performed for members of the church. Not surprisingly, many of the young men that heard about salvation and heaven on that tilted lawn were guerrillas. Some were fighting because they conscientiously felt compelled to do so; others because they were forced into uniform. But all had something in common, they were frightened, they wanted to live and not die. Some young soldiers embraced the hope of heaven while others, victims of marxist atheism, vilified Christianity as a tool of capitalism. Sinner or saint, they could all sit on the grassy incline and for a few moments feel peace and safety.
Eugenio Hernández was one of those guerrillas soldiers that often took his free time and searched for peace and serenity on the lawn of the church. One of his major concerns was the killing. Most of his friends with whom he had grown up were dead, others had fled the area, and some, traitors to the cause, had joined economic institutions and had become capitalists. On this Saturday morning, late in 1983, he sought for consolation and calmness on the lawn of the small church. Eugenio felt concern for his regiment. During the past two months his group had been involved in brutal battles with government soldiers. Three-fourths of his company was gone. He knew that his comrades had also inflicted heavy casualities on the enemy, but that only added to his anguish on that morning. All this killing– Salvadorans killing Salvadorans– and for what reason? Although he believed in the equalitarian, socialist vision of his superiors, Eugenio’s experience with them in the war caused him to doubt their ability to lead the nation. Often he and his fellow soldiers ate chickens stolen from nearby ranchos, or worse, in the real bad times they ate armadillos, foxes, or cats. Logistics and information about the whereabouts of the enemy were often incorrect and resulting battles produced more dying. In many battles his officiers were missing. Eugenio pondered these realities; if the revolutionary authorities could not provide food, supplies, information, and leadership for their army, how could they administrate a whole nation? For Eugenio, this was serious contemplation. He needed to find peace and answers for his intellectual quest.
The lonely guerrilla had fallen asleep thinking about the war and his need for peace. Two hours later, a little after noontime, he awakened to find other young people enjoying the shade of the huge avacado trees. Some of the young men and women he recognized, some were from his regiment, others people he knew from the village, and other he recognized as village kids that had enlisted into the government army. Everybody was talking and laughing, enjoying the day without worry about battles, bullets, or battalions. The church lawn was one place people could come and forget economic or political conditions that divided. At the church they were just one people with similar needs of friendship, belonging, and security.
Many of the young ladies that mingled among the reposing, talking youngsters wore white hankerchiefs over their head. Eugenio recognized these girls as members of this little church. All women of the church wore these distinctive vails, he did not understand completely, but it had something to do with the church’s belief that women should not be seen without their heads covered. Slowly they made their way to the entrance of the church. Then after a short time of arranging themselves, they began to sing. This was usual, Eugenio reminded himself, every Saturday the girls provided “entertainment” for the resting soldiers.
A young man came over to Eugenio and introduced himself as Jorge. He began talking to Eugenio about the need for personal peace. This was definitely a theme that interested the inwardly agitated soldier. “Peace,” the young man suggested, “could be found only by accepting the general as the only true leader of one’s life.” Eugenio knew that the speaker referred to Jesus. Although he had not been to a real mass in a long time, he had never forgotten the lessons he had learned as a young child in his Catholic church. Once Father Alas from Suchitoto had come and spoken to his regiment, but the father only spoke about social justice and the need to replace the present, oligarchical government with one that truly represented the people. This young man never mentioned the war, poverty, nor unjust governments; neither had anyone else that had spoken to him in previous trips to the church. Generally, some person preached, often yelled about salvation in Jesus, but they never mentioned politics. “Peace,” Jorge proclaimed, “was a precious commodity in these days of terror. But the peace that Jesus brings is real peace that last through eternity.” “But I’m a soldier,” protested Eugenio. “Soldiers have to fight, they have to kill, they have to hurt people. How can a soldier have peace during such a war as this?” Jorge acted quickly citing the story of Paul, Peter, and the jail guards that accepted Christ. And then the young man taking his Bible opened the book to the scripture that says, “Everyone who believes in him receives forgivensss of sins through his name.” Eugenio took the Bible in his own hands and reread the verse several times. “I want to accept Jesus as my Savior” he replied. “I want to do it right now.”
The next day Eugenio reported back to his base camp. That evening his commadante sent the new convert’s company out to patrol the main highway that leads around the mountain and up to Suchitoto. About 2 a.m. the company made contact with a government patrol going south toward the village of San Martin. The fire fight lasted no longer than ten minutes but for those ten minutes, bullets flew, hand gernades exploded, and fifteen men died: ten government troops and five guerrillas. During the battle, Eugenio was firing his M16 weapon at what he thought was an enemy machine gun. Suddenly, he heard thuds and a soft gurgle to his right where his friend Paco had been. He turned and saw Paco lying on the ground, the right side of his head missing and his entire right sholder detached from his body. Quickly he turned forward and saw the movement of two soldiers coming toward him, one carring an M16 like his, the other carting a heavy granade launcher. Eugenio flipped the switch to full automatic and let loose a burst of bullets that fell both soldiers; they never knew what hit them. Nausia sweep through his body, a light tremble ran through his left arm, and his knees buckled. When he raise his head, the firing had stopped; he heard no one, not a sound. Realizing that he was a sargent, he slowly crawled forward finding the bodies of two dead government soldiers. He got to his feet and crouched low to the ground made his way to where his commandante had been; laying stretched over a bush that had acted as a fence, lay the lifeless body of his leader. Instantly Eugenio knew that he was senior man at the scene. He called out a code word used in such situations so that survivors would not be shot by friendly fire. Six replies cautiously returned. All seven guerrilla survivors were together. They surveyed the battlefield discovering ten dead enemy soldiers and five comrades. Quickly, they gathered valuables and weapons from each of the dead and hurridly disappeared into the countryside knowing that soon government troops would be arriving.
The bedraggled guerrilla troop moved away from the battle scene on a prearranged route back to base camp. When the sun arose, they were still six hours marching distance from their base camp. Eugenio decided to rest during the day in a thick clump of trees so as to not risk detection from helicopters that assuredly would be skimming over the area searching for the survivors. He established a perimeter and put two guards on duty while the others rested. After a period, the two guards would be replaced. While the other slept, Eugenio reflected on the events of the past hours. “Oh God,” he cried. “Forgive me. How can I call you savior when I have just killed human beings, your creation?” He thought about the Saturday afternoon that Jorge had led him in prayer and how he had asked Jesus to forgive him and come into his heart. Then just hours later he had taken human lives with his weapon. “How could God love such a sinner?” He then stretched out to sleep. Eugenio awoke with a soldier briskly shaking his shoulder. “Its dark the private stated. We can head for home.”
The rest of the week passed rather uneventful. There were more encounters, more shooting and death. But, there was one event that was unusual for Eugenio. He and two other men were sent to blow up a gasoline station in Apopa. As they were setting the charges, he noticed laying on the ledge of the window a Bible. The station, he thought, must be owned by a Christian and here I am destroying it. Eugenio was loyal, therefore, he carried out his assignment, but he felt different. Something was changing.
The Conversion of a Leftist Guerilla
The following Saturday, Eugenio again went to the evangelical church in San Jose Guayabal. He found Jorge and asked to speak with him. In strictest confidence Eugenio detailed the events of the previous week. In profound distress he explained his feelings after the firefight. People were killed and he had participated. Eugenio was genuinely concerned about the killing, but he was also concened about the philosophy of the guerrilla leadership. He knew that there was injustice in the governmental system that had governed the country for over 100 years. His family had experienced the results of the injustice. But, now the new Christian doubted the materialism, the anti-God language of the philosophy of Marxism. Since he had accepted Christ as his savior, he knew there was a God and something more important than materialism.
During the following weeks, a new comandante, Raul Sol, arrived. Eugenio listened intently to his new commander. In his heart he felt that social injustices needed to be addressed and he also felt that the government would not take this step without strong pressure. Attempts by people´s army to take the political route to correct legal and social inequities had been met with violence and even murder. When he joined the subversive forces, he was convinced that only war would change the structures permitting true liberty and opportunity. Comander Sol expressed the same outrage at the government army and elites for all the injustices endured by the Salvadoran poor. But this time Comander Sol added that the Protestant missionaries and their lap-dogs assistants, local Salvadoran evangelical pastors were spreading a gospel of submission, a gospel that subjected compesino workers to the whims of the landowning elites. “Theses false teachings” delcared Comandante Sol,
One night during the weekly political instruction class, Eugenio asked the commander, “Are the people the real authority in a socialist democracy?” “Of course,” replied the officer. “In a socialist democracy everyone has equal rights and equal voice. However,” the commander continued, “there are social classes that have been so contaminated by capitalism and its lies that they are of no value to us. Instead they are our enemy. It is from these capitalists that we have to take power. And we have to take the power for surely they will not share with us. They only allow their class to vote. They only give their class the opportunity to make money. They take from you at the markets, at the clothing stores, at the utility office. They never give you anything nor any opportunity to better yourself.”
Eugenio realized that part of what the officer was saying was true. He knew, for example, that his father had never been given the opportunity to vote for the president until 1972. Then in that election, the army voided the election and captured and exiled his candidate, José Napoleon Duarte.
Then Eugenio asked, “Since the government has just nationalized the banks, doesn’t that indicate that they are willing to accept our offer for peace? If they did, we could stop fighting and dying.”
“Yes, that is true, If the government would accept our offer of peace. But the truth is, the government is run by liars and evil men. They will not let us have the opportunity to voice our opinion or take our places in society. Instead, they will kill all of you. In order for us to win and have liberty in a new socialist democracy, we must destroy the whole system. We must make them pay for the years of exploitation of our forefathers.” The commander paused, then looked straight at Eugenio. “We must also get rid of all the capitalist supporters. What we do not destroy, we must reeducate. All institutions that support capitalism we must slowly but surely destroy. For instance, the invasion of religious sects that are coming here to divide our culture is nothing more than a plot of the CIA to control our culture and make us adaptable to the North American capitalist system. We must overcome it, even eradicate it if necessary. Next time Father Alas comes for class I will have him address the problem of the sects. They are a danger to our cause and to the equality of all people. These sects follow their North American missionaries and these missionaries follow capitalism. All of these must be overturned so that we can build a more just socialist domocracy.”
Eugenio was deeply confused. He understood the political reasons for the revolution. He understood the injustice, the exploitation, and the corruption that existed. But in the evangelical church he had found peace within. A peace that transcended all the comprehension gained from his comandante’s classes. If this peace that he had found really came from God through this evangelical church, then the commander’s concept of the evangelicals must be wrong. Eugenio was deeply worried about what his leader said.
The following Sunday, Eugenio made way to San José Guayabal and the little Apótoles y Proféticas evangelical church. He entered the church while the people were singing. He didn’t like the idea of men and women sitting on different sides of the church. But he rationalized that in the past there must have been some reason for starting the custom and it just lasted. He found a seat on the isle near the rear of the church. As he looked around the congregation, he noticed some of his comrades sitting near the front. They were singing with great joy and annamation. He too entered the singing clapping his hands as did the others.
Before Pastor Miranda began his sermon that Sunday morning, he accounced that the following Saturday a Paravida medical team would be at the church to offer medical checkups and medicine to anyone who was sick. Eugenio knew that several of his comppadriots were sick all the time and could use the help of this medcial team. As he was thinking about this possibility, the pastor started his sermon that lasted for two hours and ten minutes. Some of the people had already left by the time the pastor finished the sermon. Although Eugenio did not understand all that was said that day, he did remember these words; “when the world is upside down and confusion reigns in the cities and nations of the world, just remember, the Holy Spirit is inside you and lives within you. You are his dwelling place. If you will listen to and follow the small voice of the the Holy Spirit you will always find shelter in the Lord. Seek peace and pursue it.”
The young soldier held onto these words and pondered them as he returned to base that afternoon. He knew that something different was happening inside him. He could not describe it, he only felt it. But he knew that he had accepted Jesus as his Savior and that the risen Lord lived in his heart through the Holy Spirit. Now if this is true, he knew that the Commander must be wrong about the evangelicals. Both concepts could not be correct. Time would tell who was correct.
The following Saturday, there had not been any military actions planned, Eugeniio asked his comandante if he could take advantage of the medical team that was to serve the local people of Guayabal. Since the commander had no objections, Eugenio asked 7 of his fellow soldiers if they wanted to see a doctor. He explained that a medical team from San Salvador would be at the little church. On Saturday morning all 8 young guirrilla soldiers made their way to the church. The medical team had been working for more than two hours when they arrived so the young men joined the line of waiting patients. For over an hour these young men waited their turn. While they waited, a young woman dressed in white medical clothing came down the line taking names and writing down on a pad of paper the particular ailments of each person. Immediately Eugenio recognized her as one of his 5th grade classmates at a school in Aguilares. After a new minutes of excited conversation, she asked Eugenio to follow her. “Iwant you to meet the jefe of this organization, Don Cubie.” And this is when this writer first met Eugenio but it would not be our last encounter.
That night as he lay on his thin mat, he thought about the church service and what the pastor had said. He also thought about the words of his comandante. Surely both men could not be right. The country was in deep problems. Eugenio felt the frustration that many small farmers and workers had expressed. They worked all day and never had enough money to buy sufficient food or medicine. Most could not even afford to send their children to school Surely something was wrong with the government. As his mind returned to the church, he knew that the church members never spoke of politics or social affairs. No one ever spoke about the unjust salaries or the exploitation of the workers. Eugenio knew that he did not feel good about the apolitical nature of the church. The church, he thought, could be doing much more to change society. But, nothing……………He drifted off to sleep.
The next morning Eugenio was awaken by a loud earth-shaking explosion. He then heard people scream and then another explosion. Instantly, he realized that the camp was under attack. The enemy had discovered the camp and were bombarding it with mortars. Soon the government infantry would be sweeping though the well hidden camp. Anyting that remained alive would be killed, or worse………..With that thought he was on his feet clutching his rifle and amunition pack, he fled in the general direction that most of his comrades were running. Up the mountain he ran; two men in front of him, he did not know who was behind. Over the crest and down into a shallow gully they ran. The sound of the explosions were far behind, but he knew that the government soldiers were close by. Soon the gully became narrow as the two ridges came together. The low, bushy shurbs became thicker and denser making it harder to run. Suddenly the lead man fell and disappeared. Eugenio too, instantly fell into the brush. He crawled maybe five meters and was inside the mouth of a small cave. Another six or seven meters he crawled into the cave and suddenly the small tunel became a large room. A small flashlight gave just enought light for Eugenio to see the profiles of another ten men; some were fully dressed, other had on nothing more than shorts. Slowly they made their way deeper into the mountain. The large cavern lowly gave way to a meter-wide passageway. It was just high enough to stand erect. .As the men slowly marched single file, Eugenio sensed that the cave was descending. For about thirty minutes, the men slowly made their way down the path inside the mountain. Thuds reverberated against the walls of the underground tunnel indicating government planes were were directly above them dropping bombs on comrades that were unable to find entrances to the mountain’s underground cave system. Defenseless cooks, dishwashers, laundry people, and other civilian helpers were being killed or mangled as bombs rained on them like shards of ice in hail storms. Thuds became more frequent. Chunks of rock and dirt began falling. At the point where the tunnel floor took a steep decline, a large boulder appeared to loosen above the passage way. Eugenio wondered if it would hold long enough for him to get under. Two quick steps and he was under the loosened rock, a short jump down to a small ledge and to saftey. The last ten meters were long steps as the incline steepened. At the bottom was a larger cavern and more men who were entering through another small opening. The number of people inside the cave now was fifteen. Someone in front ordered forward and up about twenty steps, almost straight up, the escaping soldiers climbed. At the top of the steps the tunel became more narrow and the ceiling was so low that the soldiers had to bend way over in order to advance.
For how long they marched Eugenio did not know. He knew that the trip lasted several hours; up and down and sometimes in a circle they proceeded. As they passed he often noticed tunels leading off in various directions. Upon passing one of the tunels, Eugenio became aware that he was happy for several reasons: first he was happy that he was not leading this group. He had been in the cave only one time and he knew nothing about where the underground passages led. Second, he was happy to be alive. Again, others had died that day, but he was alive. And third, Eugenio was glad to be a Christian. He was deeply grateful to God for this means of escape. With his right hand he reached for the large pocket on the front of his uniform; he touched the New Testament that Jorge had given him the day he accepted Chist. Knowing that the Bible was in his pocket brought peace to his heart. Again the tunnel descended and Eugenio found himself in another large cavern. He could see a dim light coming from one of the entrances into the cavern. With a wave of his hand, the leader advanced to the lighted entrance. The men began to pass through the tiny opening. Outside, the sky was clear and down below was the city of Suchitoto. The men had passed through a secret tunel, deep inside the mountain, from one side of the mountain through a secret tunnel all the way to the other side.
For such events as an attack on the camp, the guerrillas comandante had laid a plan. Those that were able to escape were to meet at another proposed site for the base camp. The new camp was not far from the old. It did not have to be too far, for the government soldiers would stay only a few days in the old camp destroying it and looking for information, and then they would return to the infantry base in the capital. It would then be safe to return to their side of the mountain. The comandante’s plan was for each survivor to return eight days later. Eugenio intended to report to the new camp on time.
On the outskirts of Suchitoto, Eugenio happened upon a small campesino hut occupied by a woman and two small children. Her husdand also was a guerrilla who had left two weeks earlier and had not returned. After a few words of greetings, Eugenio offered to buy a pair of pants and a shirt. The deal was struck and Eugenio put on his new clothes that were too large and just enough soiled to pass for a local peon sugar cane field worker. Behind the hut, he burned his uniform and buried the remains along the trail leading to the house.
Five days later, after a slow uneventual journey, Eugenio entered San José Guayabal. He had travelled all the way by foot from the eastern side of the mountain to the opposite side. His first desire was to find the church and talk to someone, if not Jorge, maybe one of the pastors. As he approached the church, Pastor Miranda was standing in the entrance. The pastor recognized Eugenio and invited him in.
A cup of coffee, a piece of sweet bread, and half a mellon later, Eugenio was feeling much refreshed. Although the food was the best he had tasted in weeks, something was turning inside his stomach. He knew that he needed rest. But what he wanted to do now was talk to Pastor Miranda.
“Pastor Miranda,” Eugenio began, “I want to talk to you for a few minutes if you have time.”
“Of course,” replied the soft spoken pastor. “For you I will take as much time as you want. Jorge told me about your conversion. I have known your family for all my life. Your father and I worked in the same sugar fields and picked coffee on the same fincas. I am very glad that you made this decision for Christ. I saw you in church several Sundays ago. But since the lastest battle, no one had seen you or several other new converts. I hope that all are OK. We here at the church prayed for you.”
“Pues bien” (well), began Eugenio. “I cannot say about anyone else. In three days I will report back to the new base. Only then will we know how the others survived. Pastor,” he continued, “I have some questions that I need answered. I am glad that I made the decision for Christ. I know that it was his pressence that protected me during the battle last week. But I need to know more. You are a campesino pastor. You know the problems that we face, injustice, the shorted salaries, the need for education and at least some health services. These conditions are unjust; they have been unjust for decades. To correct the injustices is what I fight for. I do not want or expect position, only justice for me and other like me. In fact, should the FMLN win this war, we campesinos will not win much, but we will have opportunities that before we have not had. Don’t you agree pastor?”
“In some ways,” his head nodding in an agreeing manner, “I do agree with you. There are many injustices in this country. But the Bible says that we are not to fight as the sinful fight. We must change the world by winning converts. After we have won enough, the country will change. We cannot change the salary system, the economic system with a bullet. Our only weapon is prayer. We can only pray. The Lord is the one who will make changes.”
“But, people are poor,” protested Eugenio, “because of these injustices. Isn’t that true?”
“Well, maybe so, but the Bible says that we will always have poor…..” Pastor Miranda began to say but Eugenio cut him off.
“Of course it is, opined the young soldier. “That is what the Prophet Amos said.” Although he had not read the book of Amos, this is what Father Alas had taught. “The wealthy have sinned when they treated us badly and denied us what was right. I read in the Bible that Jorge gave me that it is a sin not to do what is right. And also, in the book of Santiago(James) the apostle says that faith is demonstrated when the righteous do good deeds. ‘Faith without works is dead.’ Isn’t that right Pastor?”
“Yes, that is right,” Pastor Miranda replied humbly. “But God will cause what is right to come to pass. Justice will not be gained with the gun. I know that many of the landowners and merchants are corrupt and evil. But all of them are not. Some are Christian just like you and me. Can you tell honesty by the appearance of a man?”
“Pastor, I respect you. But I do not believe that you understand. King David fought for right with weapons and God blessed him. The judges of the Old Testament fought with weapons to gain justice. Even God killed the Egyptians who had persecuted the Israelis, did’t he? I do not understand your evangelical objection to destroying evil with weapons. Yes, some good wealthy people may suffer, but haven’t many of us campesinos suffered during the past years? I feel sorry for the good people who have to suffer, but a woman suffers to give birth to a new baby. When it is over she is happy and a new human life is alive on earth. That makes the suffering worthwhile.”
“But,” retorted Pastor Miranda, “our kingdom is not of this world. We do not fight like people of this world. We are not of this earth. Our kingdom is still to come and until it comes we are simply to pray and become pious, righteous people. We have to get rid of all the evil that is within us, our evil thoughts, desires, and lust. And when that happens, Jesus will come back to earth to take us to heaven.”
As the last exchange between the pastor and Eugenio took place, Juan Cordona, a school teacher and member of the church, came in. He had heard Pastor Miranda’s last comments and to that he roared, “Amen.” But Juan, who had engaged in conversations like this many times before, knew what the arguments were. He set down on the platform steps facing pastor Miranda and Eugenio who were occupying the front seats of the church.
Eugenio did not know Juan’s name, but he knew who he was. The last Sunday that Eugenio was in church, Juan was leading the songs. Juan entered the conversation.
“I do not know exactly what you two are discussing today, but since I know who you are, pointing to Eugenio, I probably know your argument. But let me add to the argument. As you know, our evangelical churches are growing all over El Salvador. This fact is unquestionable. But I question whether our evangelical churches are growing because the churches have become symbols of nonviolvence and noninvolvement or whether people recognize that in our churches they can find true spirituality an consolation? In these conditions of war, can people really know or recognize true spirituality? Are all of us who have recently joined the evangelical church, citizens who are too weak to make a choice for one side or the other? Are we too weak, too blind, or too indecisive to rectify conditions and make changes that really need to be corrected? Let me tell you what I think. For almost one hundred years there have existed evangelicals in this country. We have been few in number, few churches, and no political power. If evangelical churches chose to become involved in this contest and take one or the other side, we would be eradicated like a bug on the kitchen table. And who would care? Who would tell our great northern neighbors about out dilemma? Who would come down and save us. No one would care! No one would come and save us! The Yankee missionaries who came here do not understand their own politics much less ours and they are interested only in building churches and doing it efficiently. They think with a Yankee mentality, they do not see the suffering in the countryside; they do not see the misery in the slums of the capital. Oh yea, they refer to it by lamenting the bad conditions of poverty but they do not really know poverty. They say that Jesus will heal the bacteria laddened and malnurished bodies. They preach that Jesus will put two chickens in every pot, but they do not understand that most of the poor here do not have even a pot. No Eugenio, the gun is not the answer. That is why we are not with you in the battles. One day there will be enough evangelical Christians to have righteous men in the Assembly, in the courts, and maybe in the presidency. But until then, our involvement would mean our death. We have to depend on God, only on God just like Gideon. We are not strong enough to sustain ourselves against well armed and well organized opposition. But one day, evangelicals will be strong enough to make a difference, a real difference. We will grow silently and we will grow strong for God will guide us.”
Eugenio understood this argument. It made sense to him. Just as he was about to add to the conversation, the rolling gasses in his stomach began a volcanic reaction. Without warning, he opened his mouth and out spewed what he had eaten a hour earlier. Eugenio did not know it, but he would not be reporting to base in three days. He had another test to pass.
Pastor Miranda took Eugenio to his home and put him in a bedroom shared by two Miranda’s sons. For two days Eugenio’s temperature stayed above 102 degrees; nothing would stay on his stomach. He was dehydrating. His loose skin felt parched like a dry desert surface. After two days, Pastor Miranda’s wife insisted that a doctor be called. After a thorough examination and lab tests that had to be sent to San Salvador, the doctor diagnosed a bacterial infection of the lower intestinal tract. The doctor left antibiotics but ordered rest and two weeks of diets that Eugenio could not get at the guerrilla camp. Señora de Miranda was glad to care for her patient, but her patient was quite irked at his condition. Eugenio was in no condition to vigorously challenge the doctor’s order.
For two weeks Eugenio was confined to the pastor’s home. Through an intermediary the guerrilla sargent sent word to his commander of his condition and where he could be found. For two weeks there was little that he could do but sit, lay, and talk to the many people who chose to visit the ill soldier. Jorge was the first to come by and offer support and prayer. Eugenio thanked Jorge for his prayer, but more importantly, he thanked the young would-be pastor for leading him to Christ. Jorge was moved by Eugenio’s description of the previous weeks events. For Jorge, it was like having saved a person from hell, the two young men were sure that it was only the presence of the Holy Spirit in Eugenio’s life that saved him from sure death. Another important person that became meaningful in Eugenio’s life was the pastor’s son, Wilfredo. Wilfredo was only sixteen years old, but he was totally committed to Christ, the church, and to his father. Daily Wilfredo talked for hours to the new house guest. For hours the two debated scripture and daily reality. Eugenio found Wilfredo a competent debator. During prayer, one day, it was Wilfredo who turned to the patient and asked, “Don’t you feel that God is calling you to a special ministry?” Without hesitation, Eugenio responded, “I want to go back to my regiment and tell them about Jesus.” For days afterwards, Eugenio talked of nothing more than sharing the gospel with the friends.
Pastor Miranda was elated at the change in Eugenio. Although fifteen pounds lighter and two weeks later, color was coming back to the guerrilla fighter’s face and excitment could be seen in his eyes and heard in his voice. A new day was dawning for Eugenio. He had established the habit of prayer each morning. Wilfredo had given him a new big Bible and each day, several times a day, Eugenio could be found reading it. The experience of spending time in the Miranda household had definite effect on the once helpless soldier.
Subcommander Colorado looked sharp in his new uniform. Seated in the most confortable chair in the Miranda’s living room, he looked almost statesmanlike. Though he passed the time in light conversation and laughter with the smaller children, and drinking tea from one of the two porcelain cups that Mrs. Miranda owned, he did not disguise the real reason for his visit; he wanted to inquire about the health of his soldier. The timing of the subcommander’s visit was well timed. Though visibly weak, Eugenio could return with the officer to the new camp.
Pastor Mirando was away in San Salvador, but the rest of the family gathered around to despedir (say good-bye) the guerrilla soldier. During the two weeks of convalescence, converstations, debate, Bible study and prayer, and bedside chats, Eugenio had become almost part of the family. In motherly fashion, Mrs. Miranda prepared a sack of food, Elena, the younger daughter, brought a length of ribbon that had adorned a small birthday gift as her gift of remembrance. Welfredo brought his own special study Bible that he had bought directly from the Vida representative. It was the Bible that Eugenio had read and kept by his bedside during his stay in the Miranda home. Everyone cried. Mrs. Miranda said later that she observed a small tear in the eye of the officier. But in the end, the good-byes were over, the house was silent and Eugenio was gone.
For two weeks the Salvadoran army had not been seen anywhere around San José Guayabal. Subcommander Colorado felt at ease as the two walked along the main road leading up the mountain. As they walked, uniformed guerrilla soldiers one by one detached themselves from the underbrush, coffee trees, and roadside weeds forming a column behind the officer. Until sundown they marched, stopping only once to give the weakened Eugenio time to rest. Then at the point in the road where it flattens as it reaches the first plateau, the company turned northward. For an hour and a half they marched down and up the side of one valley an into another. There in the headwaters of a small stream, hidden by hundreds of coffee trees dwarfed by the towering shade trees was the new guerrilla camp. It was more spacious and accomodating that the previous. As the soldiers entered the camp, Huevo Loco recognized Eugenio and hurried over to greet the enfeebled comrade. Huevo Loco relieved the weakened soldier of his burden and led him to his new bunk, that was his new space under a coffee tree.
Little by little, Eugenio gained strength. While recoupering in the home of Pastor Mirando, the Paravida medical team stopped by and provided him with pain, antiparisitation meds, and vitamines. On the last visit, the team leader brought Eugenio a note that read, “if you ever get back to San Salvador, come by the clinic and let´s chat. Don Cubie.” As the days passed, Eugenio was gaining strength and one day the sub-comandante asked if he felt well enough to join a war exercise. He did and for the enxt two weeks, Eugenio took part in several small engagments with enemy soldiers. While there were no confrontations with enemy soldiers, Eugenio company blasted telephone installations and posts. These were not major events, but enough to keep government workers busy and frustrated.
Late one evening, the comandante called for Eugenio to appear before him. Not knowing what was up, Eugenio ran immediately to the commander´s location and saluted. There he was told that the commander wanted him and several of his soldiers to go to San Salvador and pick up some supplies that were awaiting him at a house near the cathedral in downtown San Salvador. This was great news for Eugenio knew that he would have time to pass by the Paravida clinic and visit with people who had become his friends when the medical team had visited San José Guauabal, and he´d be able to chat with Don Cubie. For the next year, Eugenio often would stop by the clinic for medicines and discuss nation´s political and military situations. For this writer, it was a great time to learn first hand the thoughts and doubts of a guirrella soldier.
The Woeful End of an Evanelical Guerilla
The rest of this story and life of Eugenio Hernández was related to this writer by his friend, Huevo Loco a few months after the disappearance of Eugenio.
During the months following Eugenio´s recuperation in the home of Pastor Mirando, he began taking a more active and leadership role in the regiment. Rather than direct confrontations with the enemy soldiers, Eugenio began playing a more strategic role and often was the area´s communicator with FMLN leadership in San Salvador. On his trips to San Salvador, he never missed the opportunity to pass by the offices of Paravida and chat with Don Cubie. With the change in his official duties with his regiment, he became more vocal and assertive, more active in planning military exercises, and more of a disciple of Christ always sharing the gospel of Jesus with his compatriots. He met often with Delegates of the Word in and around the Aguillares region and was one of the best informed guerillas fighters. He taught his followers as he had been instructed by the Delegates, but in addition he had accepted Christ as his Savior and added this teaching to that of of the Delegates. He never faltered in sharing his testimony of salvation.
As the war in and around Aguillares intensified and more guerillas died, Eugenio became more evangelistic and boldly contiued to share the gospel of Christ with his fellow soldiers. When confronted with his belief that El Salvador´s political leaders and the landowners were corrupt he never waivered, he was convinced that the natiion´s poor were being used by the wealthy to earn millions while the workers languished in sickness and ignornance. He responded that even Jesus threw the money changers out of the temple and then immdiately healed the blind and lame. “That is our mission” he told his buddies, “we throw out the corrupt so that the poor can be healed and saved.”
Following the murder of Father Rutilio Grande, two other priests from Aguillares were also murdered by elements of the Guardia Nacional (National Guard). Soon afterwards, a bulletin began to ciculate throughout the country that demanded that all Jesuits leave the country or be killed. The leading line in the bulletin was boldly suggestive, “Be a patriot, kill a priest.” Soon after the appearance of this notice, Archbishop Oscar Romero was murdered by Colonel Roberto D’abuissón while celebrating mass. These were vioilent acts that were proclaimed by Delegates of the Word who worked feverishly throughout the countryside detailing how these priests of God and friends of the poor were coldly murdered by the wealthy landowners and their military servants . And there would be more.
Eugenio´s unabashed proclamatioin of the gospel and his conduct of witnessing to most of his soldiers was soon noticed by the comandante. The commander was concerned that more of his soldiers would be affected by the evangelical message, a message promulgated by North Amerian missionaries, a message that countered the teachings of the Delegates. Two events called attention to Eugenio and his evangelism efforts. One was the disappearance of two of Eugenio´s new converts. The word around the camp was that these two 16 year-old guerillas had been impressed with the message of Christ´s peace and that the killings, even in this “righteous” war, were immoral and sinful. The second event was when a Delegate of the Word relayed to the comandante that Eugenio´s teachings were beginning to affect members of the local Comunidad de Base (CBC) and some members were questioning the violence perpetrated by the guerillas. This Delegate was concerned that a few of his CBC members had joined the local evangelical church and wondered if their disaffection was in any way connected to Eugenio. The commander said that he would look into the situatioin.
After the following engagemeng with governmen soldiers, Eugenio had made arrangeents for a prayer meeting: he was concerned about the soldiers lost in recent battles, and he as concerned that some soldiers had voiced hesantancy to follow the orders of war from the commander. According to Huevo Loco, Eugenio´s first apprehension that trouble soon awaited him was the absence of several new converts and no one knew their whereabouts. Eugenio´s apprehensions were soon to be proven well founded. The very next afternoon, Eugenio was summoned to the commander´s tent. There, in terse and unforgiving language, the comandante unleashed a barrage of offenses that the young soldiers had committed against the war and against those who were faithfully engaged in defeated the corrupted Salvadoran government. The commander explain how he had been patient in correcting the young soldier due to his bravery in battle and his persistent support of the teachings of the Delegates. But too many complaints were coming from the area war leadership. The comandante commanded that Eugenio stop his proselitation, that he not teach anymore this evangelical nonsense, and that he stop attendance at the local evangelical church. The commander demanded that these instructions be followed immediately starting NOW.
After the meeting with the commander, Eugeniio returned to his station in deep distress. He spoke briefly with Huevo Loco lamenting his disappointment at the jefe´s command. Eugenio felt that Jesus had specifically called him to share the gospel with all of his friends, but he also felt to be under the authority of the military, he knew the military order. He was frustrated because he knew the consequence of disobeying the comendante but he also knew that he had a Christian calling. He knew that disobeying a direct order could mean his death, but he believed strongly in the military mission of his collaborators. What could he do to save his own life while being true to his devine calling?
That night Eugenio dreamed about Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego and Scripture in Daniel where Nebuchadnezzar demanded that they worship his god. “Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego replied to him, “King Nebuchadnezzar, we do not need to defend ourselves before you in this matter.” That afternoon, Eugenio again met with his faithful converts and shared his story. Early that evening the comendante sent two soldiers to find Eugenio and bring him to his tent. When Eugenio entered, he saw another soldier bound with chords sitting on the ground beside the commanders chair. This soldier had committed the crime of desertion but had been aprehended. “Come” declared the commander, “you have to see what happens to those who disobey orders”. They walked about half a kilometer to a site where other soldiers killed in action had abeen buried. There a grave had been dug and they all knew that the wayward soldier was going into that hole. The commander made the soldier stand at the end of the grave and while Eugenio watch, the commander took his 9 mm pistol from its holster and shot the young soldier in the back of the head. He then kicked the body into the grave. Then the commander turned to Eugenio, “Now its your turn. For your refusal to obey my command, you too will be executed now.” He then had nearby soldiers take Eugenio to the other end of the grave and there he too was shot in the back of the head. Then the commander ordered that the three soldiers who stood nearby obsereving these execution empty their M16s into the bodies of the two dead soldiers laying at the bottom of the grave.
A month had passed before someone visiting the clinic informed me of Eugenion murder. The next day, I drove out to San José Guaybal to visit with Pastor Miranda. The church was open and there were people sitting and visiting on the lawn beside the church. But the Pastor Miranda´s home was shut and locked. One of the members of the church approached me and informed me that the Pastor and his family had moved to Guatemala. From what I was able to understand from that conversation, the pastor and his family had been warned that they too would be next to be executed unless they left. The pastor, knowing that this warning was not an empty suggestion, gathered his family and with the aid of another member who had a vehicle left for Guatemala that night.
This was a very sad story for me to write. I tried to be as faithful as possible to Huevo Loco´s narrative. But I knew that Eugeno´s story must be told. I could not dismiss the possibility that Paralife and its attempt to help the poor of the Aguillares region, and I could have been responsible for Eugenio´s murder. It has now been more than 5 years since the events reported in this article, but I still feel a sense of responsibility. Earlier I had tried to find the whereabout of Pastor Miranda, but he had disappeared as if into a black hole. The church continued to function, just not at the same intensity as before, Paralife continued to minister to the health needs of the nearby community, but soon it became clear that some of the people did not trust those who came bearing medicines and healthcare advise.
The story of Eugenio was written to be a stand alone story. The first part of this story was witten in the late 1980s and the last part during the early 1990s. The first part was written in an attempt to understand the crys and desparation of the Salvadoran poor, especially the rural components of the waring sectiion of society. It is the opinion of this writer that a majority of the Salvadoran population had great sympathy for causes outline by the FMLN. The oligarcy, military, and government allowed no space for bettering the educational, medical, and economic conditions for the poor. The very hard and intractable position of the right, supported by the North American government, allowed for only a hard repression of the rebelling element of nation. The “white hand” and the national guard of the repressive right killed activist priests and other philosophical leftists which stunned the nation and the internatioinal community. At the same time, the FMLN and their strategy of making life difficult for the Salvadoran upper class resulted in chaos and challenges for everyone, including the poor. The bombing of electrical substations, electrical posts, and buses,not only affected the upper classes, but also the poor. Although there was in-couontry sumpathy for the political position of the FMLN, their acts of war were interpreted as calous destructive of the national economy and this affected everyone. And then the unfailing support of North America for the extreme right, did infact, prevent a Nicaraguan style victory of Eastern socialism in Central America but created a deep distrust of North American international politics.
It is important to ask if there were any results for the Salvadoran evangelical church? At the time of this writing, the only beneficiary of this civil conflict was the evangelical church that today is composed of almost 50% of the Salvadoran population. Small evangelical congregations have sprung up everywhere including middle class areas. The evangelical university has grown and for some has become the higher education choice due much to their excellent medical school. The popularity of the evangelical church is due much to the neutral political position of most churches and clergy. For spiritual concerns, it was a safe option for many salvadoran poor and middle and professional Catholics. Will this popularity be sustained into the future? Honestly, I doubt it. As this war is coming to an end, I susspect that many Catholics will return to their comfortable church home where they will find acceptance and a greater sense of civic responsibility. The evengelical church will remain the evangelcial church.
August 1992
CubieSphere 