A fearless archbishop falls victim to the terror of a torn nation
I am prepared to offer my blood for the redemption and resurrection of El Salvador. If God accepts the sacrifice, I hope it will be a seed of liberty and a sign of hope.
Oscar Arnulfo Romero y Galdames, Archbishop of San Salvador
At 6 p.m. on a hot, humid evening in San Salvador last week, 60 worshipers gathered in the small, modern chapel of the Hospital of Divine Providence for a memorial Mass. Officiating was the Archbishop of San Salvador, a small, benign-looking man with spectacles and graying hair. Quietly, he spoke for ten minutes about death and the need to dedicate life to the cause of peace and justice. Finishing his homily, he stepped to the altar and raised the chalice of Communion wine. At that moment, a lone gunman stepped up to the open door of the chapel. "We heard what sounded like an explosion, like a bomb," said a nun who attended the service. The archbishop fell to the floor, his blood streaking the white altar cloth. He was mortally wounded, struck in the heart by a single fragmenting .22-cal. bullet. The gunman ran to a small red car and sped away. A nun who bent over to kiss the dying prelate heard him whisper, "May God have mercy on the assassins."
Archbishop Oscar Arnulfo Romero, 62, was renowned as the most outspoken archbishop among Latin America's increasingly activist clergy. From his pulpit, he regularly condemned the tyranny and terrorism that have torn tiny, impoverished El Salvador apart and brought it to the verge of civil war. A comparable concern for the poor made him a beloved figure in the barrios of the cities and among the campesinos on the huge coffee and sugar plantations. Last year he was nominated for the Nobel Peace Prize by 23 U.S. Congressmen and 118 members of the British Parliament.
In many eulogies last week, the brutal murder at the altar was even compared with that of Thomas a Becket, the Archbishop of Canterbury who was murdered by courtiers of King Henry II in the 12th century. "Barbaric!" exclaimed Pope John Paul II in Rome. "It is not only his archdiocese but the whole church which suffers from such iniquitous violence."
The capital of San Salvador seemed almost in a state of shock. Some stayed in their homes for fear of being caught in another round of the bloodletting between right and left extremists that has already claimed more than 700 victims this year. Thousands of others thronged to the Basilica of the Sacred Heart, where Romero's body lay in state, and joined a silent procession behind the cortege as it was taken to the Metropolitan Cathedral. "He was our father and protector," explained one grief-stricken woman carrying a small bouquet of yellow flowers. Said a middle-aged salesman: "The people will never forget this vile act."