The Miami Herald
September 23, 2001

Religious clash splits Mexican town residents

Catholics pressure Evangelicals

 BY MARION LLOYD
 The Boston Globe

 SAN NICOLAS TOLANTINO, Mexico -- On a Sunday morning this summer, 300 Indian villagers, armed with machetes, sticks, and shovels, marched down the main street of this sleepy farming community on a mission from God.

 They were on their way to tear down Antonia Cruz's humble cement house, which town officials had slated for demolition, along with the homes of dozens of other
 religious converts.

 The 31-year-old weaver ran afoul of local authorities and many residents several years ago after she abandoned the Roman Catholic faith.

 Cruz and 48 other evangelical families are now at the center of a conflict that has pitted neighbor against neighbor and has shaken the foundations of this community of Otomi Indians 100 miles north of Mexico City.

 ``I was terrified. I thought they were going to tear down my house and take my children,'' said Cruz, who is a devout member of the local Pentecostal Church.

 REPRIEVE

 Her family was temporarily spared after Mayor Heriberto Lugo called off the June demolition.

 He was apparently deterred by the throngs of reporters and television crews who showed up, tipped off by the bulldozer parked 150 yards from Cruz's front door.

 But the mayor has since renewed threats to evict all 48 evangelical families from their homes unless they agree to take part in a Catholic festival.

 Religious conflicts like these have become more common in Mexico, where evangelical and other Protestant groups have made major inroads among the Catholic
 majority. Protestant activists also argue that these disputes with Catholics have become more bitter since last year's election of President Vicente Fox, a conservative
 and devout Catholic.

 In 1990, Protestants represented 4.2 percent of the 84 million Mexicans over the age of 5. In 2000, the figure had jumped to 7.3 percent, according to Mexico's census bureau.

 While Mexico's constitution guarantees freedom of religion, that right is rarely enforced, analysts say. Instead, converts find themselves forced off communal lands, many of which are controlled by Catholic community leaders.

 CONVERSIONS

 In Hidalgo, a big wave of conversions started in the early 1990s, fueled in part by migrant workers who had been exposed to various Christian sects while working in the United States, and who returned home to spread their new beliefs.

 Evangelical leaders here fear that the region could go the way of the state of Chiapas, where disputes between religions have resulted in murders and displaced
 communities. Those conflicts fueled the 1994 indigenous uprising in the impoverished southern state.

 "What's worrying is that pluralism isn't seen as something normal, particularly in rural and indigenous communities,'' said Roberto Blancarte, the federal government's
 former chief advisor on religious affairs.

 He said such conflicts may become even more common now that a controversial indigenous rights law took effect last month, granting community leaders more power to enforce local customs.

 LOCAL FESTIVAL

 The San Nicolás conflict centers mostly around a yearly festival for the town's Catholic patron saint, an extravagant affair held in September for which the community
 spends tens of thousands of dollars on fireworks, food, and home-brewed liquor. Every year, the festival is hosted by different residents, known as mayordomos, who each spend as much as $7,000 on festivities.

 The evangelicals have refused to participate in the festival, which they denounce as ``pagan.'' They say their religion bars them from drinking -- which is at the heart of the festival -- and from joining in Catholic ceremonies.

 Lugo, who argues that the festival has little to do with Catholicism and everything to do with ancient Otomi traditions, estimates that each Protestant family in town owes $8,000 for its share of the festival. In March, he cut off water service to 36 evangelical families who had not paid. He also vowed to evict them from their land if they didn't pay up by June. He has not yet carried out that threat.

 The mayor is unapologetic. He has stood his ground in a series of meetings with federal officials, who have sought unsuccessfully to mediate the conflict.

                                    © 2001