Miguel Pro- Profile

MEXICO: PADRE PRO
By Benny Moss

Sunday, December. 15, 1940



Colorful and jolly as are most Roman Catholic festivals in Latin countries, they might have seemed sedate beside one which began last week at the Basilica of Guadalupe near Mexico City.

From all parts of Mexico and Latin America had come 50,000 pilgrims. Ultimately, 100,000 were expected. Indians, mestizos, pure-blooded aristocrats, every class except the urban (antireligious) intelligentsia, were present to do honor to Nuestra Senora de Guadalupe, patron saint of Mexico.

With smashing crescendo of clanging bells, electric illuminations, masses, there will be celebrated this week the Feast of Our Lady of Guadalupe. There is an especially composed Guadalupe Hymn. Next year has been officially designated Guadalupe Year. In the archdiocese of Guadalajara, all female infants baptized in 1940 have been named Guadalupe, all boys José Guadalupe. This, by the archbishop's decree, has caused considerable confusion but much pious feeling.

To bless the alterations of the Basilica had come Most Rev. Miguel Miranda y Gomez, the young, dynamic and controversial Archbishop of Mexico; ten bishops and the entire clergy of Mexico City. But the crowd were interested in none of these dignitaries. A tall, handsome, man dressed simply in the vestments of the Jesuit order appeared and smiling, raised his hand in greeting; 50,000 throats yelled "Padre Pro! Viva Cristo Rey!"

The man they acclaim is the darling of all peasant Mexico; a man whose smiling countenance and alleged miraculous deeds has saved Mexico for Catholicism, and given the Vatican no end of trouble in the process. When asked about any of this, Father Miguel Pro, the most popular man in Mexico, simply grins mischievously. "I was a troublesome child too," he says.

One of eleven children of a government mining agent in the state of Zacatecas, the young Fr Pro was a cheerful, handsome boy, with a deft touch on the guitar.

He entered the Jesuit Order and concentrated on sociology and economics. During the course of his studies in Europe, in 1916, he travelled to Portugal and proselytized behind Royalist lines; his speciality was the conversion of Republican workers to the cause of God, and he became a prominent member of the 'working priest' movement that attempted to win back the masses from Socialism.

At the war's end, Pro showed his disregard for personal danger and declined to join the Royalist exodus, choosing instead to remain behind as a confessor for those Catholics driven underground by the Republic's anti-clerical laws. For almost a decade, through the Portuguese Terror and the resulting constitutionalist putsch he administered to the Portuguese faithful, in growing confidence, until in 1927, Fr Pro decided that his own country needed him more.

The Mexico he returned to was racked by religious war. Rigid enforcement of the anti-religion provisions of Mexico's 1924 constitution by President Amaro had closed the churches and aroused armed resistance all over the country. Priests had to carry on their duties under cover; if caught they were imprisoned.

For two years, the priest, ailing from a stomach illness, drove himself to superhuman efforts. Sometimes in greasy overalls, sometimes in natty clothes, innocently leading a police dog, Padre Pro hurried about the capital to officiate at christenings, weddings and clandestine Masses. Some days he heard confessions for 12 or 13 hours; twice he was carried fainting from the confessional. Every centavo that went into his pocket came right out again to support the "auxiliary commissions" he organized to provide food, clothes and lodging for the poor.

As the religious revolt in the countryside spread, Padre Pro left Mexico City and joined the 'Cristeros'. His status as a folk hero, already great thanks to his exploits in the capital, was fuelled further by his ability to win over loyalist Governors and Generals, and his insistence on good treatment for those who surrendered.

In 1932 he was instrumental in cementing the alliance between the Cristero leader René Garza and the agrarian radicals Gildardo Magaña and Rodolfo Fierro; his choice as the rebel emissary to Washington two years later secured the public sympathy of the American people and removed any danger of the Ritchie and Borah administrations following in the interventionist footsteps of President Wood. His celebrity was such in the Latin American world that many even credit the Padre with Mexico's admission to the sceptical Hispanidad bloc of nations.

Despite repeated entreaties, Padre Pro refused any position in the new Government, and instead retired to the modest church in Zacatecas where I meet him. He is a tall, dark man with a lively nature and a quick humour; I am struck by how little he fits the traditional stereotype of the holy man.

I ask the padre why he did not take an official role, and he snorts, leaning back against the pew. "Look at me, I am a priest, not a politician! My place is here with my flock, not at the Palacio Nacional. Senor Palafox is quite capable of bringing justice to the county himself; I can get on with taking confession."

Does he approve of Mexico's new Government then? He nods emphatically. "Yes. The days of the urban atheist oppressing the masses is over. We can worship in peace and security again, and this is the greatest liberation of all. It gladdens my heart that we have shown here in Mexico that social justice and agrarian reform can go hand in hand with the love of God."

But should it be the place of the Church to take such an activist role? The arch-conservative Pope Pius XI, who was elected as part of the growing traditionalist backlash against liberals such as Pro, has issued stern warnings about developments in Mexico. The Padre dismisses the question with a shrug.  

"Christians have a spiritual duty to struggle on the side of the downtrodden. Did not Jesus himself say that he had come 'to preach good news to the poor and to set at liberty those who are oppressed?' When Cardinal Salazar instructs me to refrain from expounding 'Communal Theology'. I tell him that I am not, and I am telling the truth! I spend all my time tending to my parishioners, and if people are inspired by my deeds, that is to the good. I simply persevere in my work with the poor and the oppressed."

"What has happened," he says with a lopsided grin, "is that the example of the Cristeros has inspired those clergy who deal with the poor and dispossessed to fight for their betterment within society. And not just Mexicans- Spaniards, Filipinos, Brazilians, Peruvians- there is a genuine movement growing, organised from the lowest level, of social reform through the church. It is part of a long tradition; the reformist, democratic tradition of José Martí."

Padre Pro has often been described as the inspiration of the Integralist movement, which has flourished in Italy. I ask him if he would ascribe to that ideology. The Padre demurs.

"I am no Integralist," he says, "although I believe they have good intentions. My criticism of Integralism is that it is imposed from above, not from below.  The Vatican is more enthusiastic then I am, of course", he adds, rolling his eyes, "But that is only natural. Communalism, as we have in Mexico, is government by the masses for their own benefit; Integralism professes to be the same, but is in fact government by the Bishops and Financiers for what they see to be the benefit of the masses. Often, their measures do benefit the working man, but should not the masses make these decisions themselves?"

"People sometimes ask me, why did I do it? Why did I spend years dodging the police and soldiers to administer the sacraments, often doubled over in pain due to the troubles of my stomach– troubles, which I would add, have vanished since Mexico became free."

"It all goes back to when I was a boy. I was a wayward child; some would say I am a wayward adult! - but one day, I walked into a church while a sermon was being delivered on the Passion of Our Lord. 'All this, Jesus Christ did and suffered for us,' the priest said, pointing to the crucifix, 'and we, what are we doing for Him?' 'Yes,' I thought, 'what have I done for Him?' So I did something."

With these words the Padre smilingly takes his leave; he has to take confession. As he walks down the nave of the church, he turns back to me and chuckling, says "Now it is my turn to ask you a question, Senor Moss! Jesus suffered for you too. What are you going to do for Him?"

The darling of all Mexico winks at me, and seeing my expression,   strides off, whistling happily. For the rest of day I wear a broad smile. It is only later that I realise I too have succumbed to the power of Padre Pro.