The
economics of liberation theology
VALPY
FITZGERALD
Cambridge Collections
Cambridge University Press, 2008
Introduction
Economics
– in the general sense of the critical study of production, distribution
and consumption of wealth in human society – is a central theme of
liberation
theology. Although liberation theologians do not address the
technical
questions that constitute modern economic theory, they are concerned
with the broader issues of the way in which economic organisation relates
to the historical experience of humanity in general and to the ‘infinite
value’ of the poor to God in particular. 1
These
issues of economic organisation and social justice are similar to the
agenda of European political economy until the end of the last
century, and still central to debates on sustainable development
strategies in poor countries. But a concern for life itself as the
criterion for judging economic institutions can be considered to be a
specific contribution from liberation theology. Further, this
theology is probably unique in being located within the broader
context of debates in poor countries on the origins of
underdevelopment and the condition of poverty – mainly but not
exclusively in Latin America – which themselves have a major
economic dimension. In consequence, the ‘economics of liberation
theology’ has had a considerable impact beyond church structures,
ranging from grassroots social movements throughout the developing
world to influential non-governmental organisations in industrialised
countries.
The
persistence of poverty in Latin America is morally unacceptable by
any standard. In 1980, after a period of rapid income growth before
the debt crisis, and at the outset of the decade in which most
liberation theology has been written, 40 per cent of the population
of the region were officially classified as living in poverty, and
nearly half of these in extreme poverty – that is with incomes
insufficient to purchase the food required to meet the United
Nations’ minimum nutritional standard for a healthy life. 2
The
extent of poverty in any developing country is the result of two factors:
the average level of income in the country as a whole, which may be
quite low; and the gap between the rich and poor within that country.
The
former factor depends, broadly, upon the level of industrialisation
and
the
relationship with richer countries; it reflects a long-term
historical process, the consequence of both the colonial heritage and
the style of development pursued since independence. Shorter-term
economic factors such as debt repayment, export prices and
macroeconomic policy can also be critical in determining average per
capita income. The latter factor depends on institutional factors
such as the pattern of ownership, asset yields, labour skills,
unemployment, wage levels, taxation and social security provision
which determine income distribution within the country.
The
wide differences between poverty levels in different Latin American
countries, and the fact that income distribution is so much worse
there than in Africa or Asia, show that this poverty is not
inevitable and is largely
the outcome of specific institutional structures.
The
point of departure for the economics of liberation theology is thus a
situation where the historical pattern of economic development and
the
present
plight of the poor in Latin America – particularly the ‘marginalisation’
of half or more of the population in insecure, unskilled and poorly paid
jobs – is clearly the result of cumulative decisions over many
generations
by powerful elites responsible for both public administration and private
enterprise. 3
The
economic dimension of liberation theology
In
liberation theology, the anticipated economic order of Christian
utopia (that
is, the Kingdom) is not just derived from a prophetic vision. This utopia
is firmly anchored in a historical reality – that of Latin America
in this
case – and is to be based on a ‘civilisation of poverty’ which
is to replace
the current ‘civilisation of wealth’.4
The
ethical origins of this view are clearly biblical, but in modern
times would correspond to a ‘civilisation of labour’ as opposed
to the present ‘civilisation of capital’. Capitalist civilisation
has created a modern world quite different from that of Ancient
Palestine, but the productive benefits of the civilisation of wealth
have been accompanied by increasing social evil.
Liberation
theologians are quite clear that the Kingdom belongs to the poor
(Luke 6.20) and the rich as such have no part in it (Luke 6.24 et
seq.; Luke 16.19–31; Mark 10.23–5)
5 because
money is an idol which becomes an absolute value: we cannot serve God
and Mammon (Matt. 6.24) – private property is by definition
exclusive. However, Jesus does not idealise the poor, because poverty
is the consequence of the sin of exclusive possession. Rather, his
aim is for abundance for everyone – expressed symbolically by the
banquet of the Kingdom – so that this can be possible. He teaches
us to abandon the goods of this earth (Matt. 6.25–33)
and invites us to share what we have with the poor (Luke 12.14 et
seq.).
In
contrast, the present civilisation of wealth is seen to be based upon the
private accumulation of capital by individuals and firms with the
support
of the capitalist state, in the search for ever greater personal
wealth and
corporate power. Liberation theologians recognise that this
historical process
has brought beneficial technical progress, but argue that these benefits
have not been put at the disposal of society as a whole, and that they
have been achieved at the cost of massive human and environmental destruction.
To an extent, therefore, liberation theology can be seen as a positive
extension of the Roman Catholic tradition in encyclicals such as Laborem
Exercens.
But
it also constitutes a radical departure insofar as an idealist
solution to the material problems of humanity is firmly rejected.
What
is needed is not just the correction of the errors of capitalism but
rather its replacement by the civilisation of poverty. Jesus insisted
that wealth must be replaced by poverty in order to enter the
Kingdom.
In
common with the long tradition of Latin American dependency theory, 6
liberation theologians regard the relationship between the rich
countries of the
‘North’ and the poor countries of the ‘South’ – home to
three quarters of
humanity – as profoundly unjust. They regard the modern world
economy as
intrinsically involving increased poverty and cultural domination,
arising
from unequal exchange in international trade (cheap primary products from
mines and farms exported to pay for expensive machinery imports) and
the dominance of multinational corporations (based in the US, Europe and
Japan) over investment, employment and cultural decisions in poor countries.
The technical advances of the North are recognised as valuable in
themselves, and a return to the pre-colonial isolation of the South
is recognised
to be neither possible nor desirable. This unequal relationship was
explicitly criticised, of course, by Vatican II in Gaudium et Spes,
underlined in Populorum Progressio and repeated subsequently in
Sollicitudo Rei Socialis. Liberation theology goes beyond this
critique to denounce ‘prophetically’
the dependency of poor on rich countries as a real obstacle to the
Kingdom.
The
most dramatic example of this dependency is the Latin American foreign
debt situation, which reached its height in the 1980s and thus became
part of theological praxis, involving national political leaders and
international agencies as well as the poor themselves. Liberation
theologians consider that this debt was contracted under conditions
of complicity between the rich and governments, and not used to help
the poor. None the less, the burden of repayment (both the taxes
required to service the debt owed to banks, and the cuts in social
expenditure demanded by the international financial institutions)
falls almost entirely on the poor – thereby contradicting
one of the basic principles of Christian faith.
‘Humanist
materialism’ as opposed to ‘economic materialism’ is to be the
ethical foundation of the Christian civilisation of poverty which
will make the universal satisfaction of the basic needs of ordinary
people and growing solidarity between them its central aims. The
civilisation of poverty is thus counterposed against the civilisation
of wealth not as a form of ‘universal
pauperisation’, but rather as a manifestation of the gospel
tradition – a tradition firmly rooted in Jesus’ own teaching and
continued by the Christian saints. Moreover, poverty in this sense is
traditionally required of institutions (particularly the Church
itself) as well as of individuals. The dialectic between poverty and
wealth defines our world as sinful, and can only be overcome
salvifically.
According
to the liberation theologians, the construction of this new
civilisation is to be initiated in our own time by an economic order
based on the satisfaction of ‘basic needs’ as a fundamental human
right. If the basic needs of ordinary people are not met, then
whatever the legal and political institutions there is no real
respect for human dignity and world peace is endangered. Allowing for
cultural differences, the nature of these basic needs does not admit
of much debate in practice: the minimum requirements of nutrition,
health, education, housing and employment are self-evident to the
poor. The satisfaction of these basic needs is thus the necessary
condition for any model of true economic development based on human
dignity, and thus must be achieved as a right and not as charity
(‘crumbs from the rich man’s table’). Once these basic needs
are satisfied institutionally in the first stage of the process of
liberation, humanity is free to become what it wants to be – so
long as what it desires does not become a new mechanism of
domination.
The
theological notion of the civilisation of poverty proposes as a dynamic
principle the ‘dignification’ of labour in explicit contrast to
the accumulation
of capital. The aim of work would no longer be the production
of private wealth (as it is under capitalism) but rather the
perfection of
humanity, individually and collectively, as the basis of a new
society.
The
Christian response to the civilisation of wealth thus cannot be to abandon
the world and reject it in prophetic protest, but rather to enter
this world
in order to renew it and transform it – the long-run objective
being the
utopia of the ‘new land’. Progress is made in this direction in
our own time
(‘on earth’) to the extent that one of the fundamental
characteristics of
the civilisation of poverty is strengthened – that is, shared
solidarity in contrast
to the closed and competitive individualism of the civilisation of
wealth. This solidarity is held to be central to the early Christian
inspiration as
well as to communitarian movements throughout modern history. It appears
once more in the new social movements 7 in Latin America –
social unity and communion on the one hand, and the common use of
common goods on the other.
The
private appropriation of common goods upon which the market economy
is based is not logically necessary in order to enjoy these goods.
None
the less, the economic doctrine of the Catholic Church since Aquinas
suggests
that private property may be the best way in practice to maintain
economic production and social order. However, for Aquinas this
situation is the result of human selfishness arising from original
sin. In consequence liberation theologians argue that this sinful
selfishness will be overcome as the ‘new land’ is approached. For
instance, natural resources such as land and water are considered by
economists as essentially public goods, and constitute the first step
in the recovery of common ownership (the basis for peasant life in
Latin America until the present century) dismantled by the
civilisation of wealth. Moreover, the objective of Christian
economics would not be to promote the private accumulation of wealth
even after basic needs have been satisfied and personal development made
possible.
According
to liberation theology, capitalism has clearly been incapable of
satisfying basic needs in Latin America, despite the fact that
government and business leaders are professed Christians. Socialism
in practice has not provided a satisfactory solution either: although
advances have been made in basic needs provision – particularly in
communist Cuba and in Nicaragua under the Sandinistas – socialist
countries have been incapable of sustained technological creativity
or of political freedom. None the less, the socialist ideal is more
suitable than capitalism as an economic model for the ‘new land’
– as the traditional social teaching of the Church tacitly admits.
Economics,
life and structural sin
The
relationship between theology and economics is thus seen by
liberation
theologians
as reflecting the fundamental historical contradiction between
death
and life in Latin America. 8
This
historical contradiction obviously has social, political, cultural,
anthropological, ethical and spiritual dimensions as well; but
economics is fundamental because it defines wealth and poverty.
‘Life’ in this context has a clear meaning: it is tangible human
life expressed by work, land, house, food, health, education, family,
participation, culture, environment, and even fiesta. 9
Basic
needs thus go beyond essential physiological necessities because the
realities of life are not merely economic – although they are not
simply spiritual either. This concept is frequently illustrated by
the observation that for Amerindian peasants (campesino indigena)
‘land’ is simultaneously an economic, social, political, cultural
and spiritual reality – indeed it defines their own nature and that
of their community, as well as providing for their survival in a
world where the material and moral aspects of life are necessarily
communitarian.
When
basic needs are discussed in Latin America – particularly by the poor
themselves – no philosophical distinction between ‘infrastructure’ and
‘superstructure’ exists: there is only a single reality of life
or of death.
When
in the Third World a person loses their job or their land they lose life
itself. Marginalised people risk their lives daily in the search for
work and
food for their families, without any possibility of education or
political participation. None the less, the poor affirm their option
for life – and above
all their hope for a better life – in the community fiesta and in
shared joy.
Thus
ethics and spirituality are expressed through this concrete human
experience:
access to work, land, housing, or health are not only economic
requirements
but also clearly ethical imperatives. They reflect the ethics of life,
where the defence of specific human lives is the fundamental moral imperative.
Death is immoral: unemployment, hunger, and illiteracy are economic
problems but also forms of death and thus a perverse ethical reality.
So real life as it is lived by the poor becomes the criterion by
which good
and evil can be distinguished. Life, work, and land are both economic and
spiritual realities. In sum, although spirituality is clearly not
just a matter of the bodily life or death of a human being, adequate
provision of basic needs for all is the crucial criterion for
distinguishing between authentic and false spirituality – or rather
between a spirituality of life and a spirituality of death.
In
Latin America the notions of the ‘logic of life’ or the ‘logic
of the majority’ are widely used in both theological and radical
political discourse – that is, human life is assumed to be the
essential criterion for economic logic or rationality. That all
should have life is the most logical or rational position:
unemployment, illness, hunger, and illiteracy are illogical and
irrational. Those whose lives are mainly threatened are the poor and
oppressed, of course. This logic of life is opposed to the logic of
the dominant economic system where the rationality is based on
maximising corporate profits and private wealth. Life for all,
especially for the poorest, can become illogical for the
profit-maximising system.
Unemployment,
concentration of wealth in a few hands, marginality – and even the
death of the poor – can become rational within the dominant
economic system.
The
satisfaction of basic needs – life for all – is therefore not
seen by
liberation
theology as a goal, a programme, an ideology or a development
model
as it might be by a national economic policy maker or an international
development agency. It is anterior to and more fundamental than economic
policy. It is the only logical basis for an economic ideology or
development model, because it is concerned with the choice between
human life and profit maximisation.
All
that liberation theology has to say about life as the fundamental ‘mediator’
in economics can also be applied to reflections on the nature of God
– and is summed up by the expression ‘the God of Life’. 10
For
this theological purpose ‘life’ must be seen as something human
and tangible, otherwise it evaporates into an abstract and purely
spiritual theology. God is the God of Life because His will is
essentially that all men and women should have life and life in
abundance (John 10.10). The poor believe in the God of Life because
He guarantees real human life for all, and particularly
for them. God is the God of Life because He assumes human life as absolute
truth, goodness and beauty – gloria Dei vivens homo in the
words of Saint Irenaeus. The glory of God is manifested in specific
human life – so
this glory is at stake in the life or death of historically specific
human beings.
The economic dimension of life (work, land, house, health, food, education
etc.) becomes the expression of the glory of God. Equally, the glory
of God is dimmed in every person who suffers hunger, misery and oppression.
Economy (i.e. life) and theology are thus inseparable in theory and
practice.
One
of the most characteristic contributions of liberation theology has
been
the concept of ‘structural sin’ or sinful structures 11
– which includes
the
systematic violation of civil rights but where economic injustice
holds
a
central place. For ‘Western’ (liberation theologians would say
‘Northern’) theology in the tradition of Cartesian individualism
and an individual
relationship
to God, this is a problematic notion. The concept of sinful
structures
– which includes the market economy in practice – shows how
personal
evil can be simultaneously strengthened and disguised by social
relationships.
A particular economic structure (a historical system of relations
between people) can easily create a series of situations which make
necessary
– and thus apparently reasonable – that conduct which favours
one’s own
greed or that of one’s family at the expense of the life and
dignity of
many others. Usually, the consequences for the poor of such greed are not
immediately visible to the sinner (as they would be in an isolated
rural community,
for instance) because they are diffused through the market economy.
As a personal sinner, an individual is seen as both responsible for
and as a victim of these oppressive social structures.
In
effect, liberation theologians are attempting to recuperate a
fundamental New Testament notion, that of the ‘sin of the world’
which renders the world incapable of understanding the Truth (John
17.25). Contemporary economic structures form a central part of the
sin of the world; this is not just a matter of specific economic
injustices which can be rectified by appropriate public or private
action by good Christians. Despite considerable criticism from
traditional theologians in general and the Vatican in particular,
these concepts were implicit to the central arguments of both Puebla
and Medellín.
Liberation
theology has thus always used concepts of political economy in
its analysis of both the real world and ideological discourse. None
the less,
a ‘theology of the economy’ as such has not yet been fully worked out.
One fruitful approach is to start from the sacral nature of ‘bread’
– that
is, the product of work within specific social relations. In this
way, present
or proposed economic arrangements can be related to the construction
of the Kingdom or its negation. 12
Another
approach is to start from a reformulation of the Marxian critique of
commodity fetishism in terms of the biblical view of idolatry, which
leads by extension to the valuation of ‘real life’ by the poor as
opposed to the abstractions of the oppressors. 13
In
both approaches, the analytical tools of Marxism (as opposed to its
philosophical model) are used from a Christian perspective –
in much the same way as Aquinas used Aristotle.
The task of translating theological analysis of concepts such as
social relations, alienation, work, commodities (‘bread’) or
value (‘blood’) into a form that would be comprehensible to
ordinary people as well as intellectually convincing, is still
pending.
Fortunately
perhaps, a considerable part of liberation theology is done ‘from
below’ in Latin America; that is by base communities discussing the relevance
of Scripture to their own lives. It is largely unrecorded, but no less
real for that. 14
Popular
hermeneutics takes much of its inspiration from the fact that the
language and socio-economic circumstances of the Old and New
Testaments are of direct and immediate relevance to the lives of the
poor in Latin America. A biblical world of peasant farming,
avaricious merchants, oppressive landowners, tax collectors,
agricultural labour, and impoverished widows seems not dissimilar to
life in Brazil or El Salvador. Indeed, it is perhaps unsurprising
that the Apocalypse is the favourite book of the popular movements
because there they find inspiration for resistance to persecution
which can then be applied directly to contemporary society;
similarly, the discourse in John does not seem abstract to them at
all, as they can identify with the Christian struggle against the
Roman Empire. 15
Liberation
theology and economic theory
A
frequent criticism of liberation theology – not least from the
Vatican itself – is the influence of Marxism revealed by its stress
on economic relationships and social conflict. However, the necessary
stages of economic development in Marxist theory and the changes in
class relationships they bring about are not the basis for the
liberation theologians’ view of history: the economic actors are
‘the poor’ and ‘the rich’ rather than capitalists and the
proletariat, while the driving force of history is the relationship
between God and His creation. Thus, the eschatological view of
history in liberation theology is clearly opposed to that of
historical materialism.
None
the less, liberation theologians explicitly regard Marx as an
important source of analytical method which helps them look beyond
the apparently objective nature of market forces; and thus to
identify power with property, relate poverty to labour control and
identify the intrinsic contradiction between the market economy and
an egalitarian society. 16
Moreover,
it is also clear to the informed reader that the implicit inspiration
for their economic views is derived from the early ‘Hegelian Marx’
concerned with alienation and exploitation, rather than from
technicalities of surplus value and industrial progress in Das
Kapital. The economic nature of the transition to socialism/Kingdom
is basic needs provision and the inclusion of the
marginalised, rather than the over-accumulation of capital and the
proletarianisation
of the workforce in Marx.
Economic
theory is underpinned by ‘theories of value’ which explain the way
in which markets set prices and distribute income as a manifestation of
the value which a society collectively places on a particular
commodity or skill. The classical economists (including Smith and
Ricardo as well as Marx) developed a ‘labour theory of value’
based on the amount of labour required to produce a commodity or
skill, directly through the work involved or indirectly through the
equipment or education needed in the production process. The modern
theory of value is quite different: based on the utilitarianism of
Mill and Bentham, it sees the market as expressing the social utility
of goods and services as revealed by the spending decisions of
consumers – who ‘vote with their money’, so to speak.
Liberation theology is clearly directly opposed to the utilitarian
view, not least because it privileges the choices of the rich, but
more fundamentally because it converts human beings into commodities.
There is more sympathy with a labour theory of value insofar as it
recognises the origins of wealth, but the concept of value based on
‘blood’ clearly goes far beyond the ideas of Ricardo and Marx.
In fact,
liberation theologians’ views on the origins of poverty in Latin America and
the economic relationship between rich and poor countries are
firmly located within a long Latin American tradition of progressive thought
– much of it specifically non-Marxist – which stresses the
concentration
of ownership, undemocratic economic policies, and unequal relationships
within the world economy as constituting a ‘crisis of capitalism in
the region’. This tradition has strong roots in both popular
discourse and
the declarations of national leaders. It encompasses both the
‘structuralist
economics’ associated with the UN Economic Commission for Latin America
and the ‘dependency school’ of political thought in the region.
17
Indeed
it might be argued that the communitarian and redistributive nature
of the economic ‘project’ of liberation theology owes more to the
radical populism of Proudhon than to the state power of Lenin. In
practice, moreover, liberation theologians have always worked with
social movements whose political position is highly critical of
orthodox communist parties – particularly the revolutionary
movements of Central America but also trade unions in Brazil and
‘base communities’ throughout the region.
If
the economic content of liberation theology is compared to the
analytical framework of modern economics as applied to developing
countries, its shortcomings become evident. There is a measure of
agreement as to the institutional roots of poverty, and an admission
by the latter that the Pareto conditions for a free market
equilibrium to correspond to a social welfare maximum may not hold in
the presence of an unequal prior distribution of financial assets or
human skills. Basic needs provision and poverty elimination have
become accepted as central elements in formulating economic strategy
in developing countries; and although these ideas clearly antedate
liberation theology, its support for them has undoubtedly been
influential – particularly among non-governmental development
agencies. However, the central issues of economic development theory
are not addressed by liberation theology: the balance between
industry and agriculture, the best way to finance social
expenditures, improving trade relationships between industrialised
and industrialising countries, incentives for private producers, how
to create jobs and the trade-off between the incomes of this
generation and the next, and so on. This agenda might well seem too
much to demand of theologians but the neglect of these more practical
issues has serious consequences.
On
the one hand, this neglect means that the orthodox prescriptions of
macroeconomic
policy have gone largely uncontested except by general
denunciations
of capitalism. Widespread unemployment, reduced wages
and
cuts in health expenditure are justified by democratic governments
and international financial agencies in terms of the increased
production
efficiency
and private investment they will generate, which will later result
in
greater income growth and employment for the poor. Whether this trade-off
is feasible or desirable is one of the central issues in current economic
debate at all levels of society in Latin America today: 18 ‘structural
adjustment’ is defended by its proponents in ethical terms as ‘good
for the poor in the long run’, while its opponents argue that there
are sound
reasons for believing that macroeconomic stability can be combined with
poverty reduction. 19
On
the other hand, in the one case where liberation theology did have a
strong influence on the economic policy of a progressive government –
the case of Nicaragua during the 1980s which attempted to implement a
direct attack on poverty through large-scale land reform and massive
basic needs provision to the poor 20 –
the lack of a coherent response to the problems of
national and international economic management turned out to be a
fatal weakness in the attempt to implement the vision of a ‘new
land’. In sum, the critique of observed economic injustice can lose
its force unless it is accompanied by some idea as to what would
constitute a just economy in practice.
A
more appropriate basis of comparison might therefore be the more
specific topic of welfare economics, 21 which reflects not
only the commitment to solidarity within a particular national
economy but also the fact that a range of social services – such as
health and education – has a positive return to the economy in the
long run due to increased productivity and less communicable disease,
but which the individuals concerned cannot afford and the private
sector is unwilling to provide for the population as a whole. Indeed,
this limited definition of the ‘common good’ appears to be
emerging as the basis for basic needs provision in industrialised
societies unable to achieve the political support required for the
tax burden that existing levels of welfare entitlements imply. This
is clearly far more limited than the commitment to the elimination of
poverty as the central focus of economic strategy which liberation
theology implies.
However,
the basis for modern welfare economics is the notion of social
citizenship (also termed the ‘citizenship of entitlement’) which
consists of the
rights to a modicum of economic welfare and security, to share fully
in the
social heritage of the community, and to live a civilised life
according to
the standards prevailing in society. 22
This
is not, therefore, an argument from compassion, which focuses on the point of view of the donor as citizen and where the recipients are
perceived as recipients of largesse rather than as citizens with
entitlements to benefits and rights of participation in decisions
which affect them. A depersonalised relationship based on entitlement
is essential if recipients of social benefits are to be citizens
rather than subjects. Social citizenship also ‘depersonalises’
the function of giving, converting it from a voluntary act by a few
‘good citizens’ to a duty on the part of all citizens who can
afford to do so to pay tax so that the needs of the body of the
citizenry are met as of right. Social citizenship thus implies not
only entitlements to welfare payments, but also the obligation of
better-off citizens to pay tax in order to finance them if the system
is to be something more than social insurance. This is an agenda
which liberation theology has not addressed but where it would have
much to offer if it were to speak to the problems of economic
development under democracy.
Liberation
theology and the theory of economic justice
Although
liberation theology has a limited engagement with economic theory
as such, there is a much clearer correspondence with notions of economic
justice in political philosophy. A good basis for comparison is the
modern theory of justice, based on liberal political theory and in particular
the contractarian ideal of ‘fairness’ as a characteristic of the
just economy.
The contractarian theory of justice suggests that a set of economic
institutions can be judged as fair if behind a ‘veil of ignorance’
all citizens
are prepared to accept any position in that economy they might be allocated
at random. 23
In
other words, there is rigorous equality of economic
opportunity and acceptable welfare provision, as opposed to equality
of outcomes. Clearly all the Latin American economies would fail this test
and thus can be judged ‘unjust’. From a completely different
ethical point
of departure, liberation theology comes to a not dissimilar position; although
the logic would derive from the relationship of people to each other
in a community rather than in a social contract with the state.
Another
philosophical approach to the problem of poverty is based on
the
idea that economic welfare is derived from the ‘entitlements’
possessed
by
individuals or households. 24
These
entitlements can be market-based (e.g. income from economic assets or
marketable skills) or social entitlements derived from legal or
traditional rights to welfare, including access to
common property resources such as water or grazing land; the loss of these
entitlements – due to economic dislocation or social collapse –
causes poverty
and their restoration can eliminate it. The value of a specific ‘bundle’
of entitlements is judged by the extent to which they provide the conditions
for the good life under the relevant circumstances. This powerful
analytical concept, which has a deep influence on modern economic
development
theory, could also add some depth to the liberation theologians’
view of the origins of poverty in marginalisation. None the less,
like
contractarian
theories of economic justice, entitlement theory has little to say
about the power structures which lie behind the institutions of the market
economy.
In
the global context, one of the key characteristics of poverty is the
country in which people are born – in other words the citizenship
of the poor.
The
traditional economists’ response to this problem is that the
potential
economic
benefits of migration in terms of increased employment and
higher
wages can be achieved just as well by labour-intensive exports and
international
investment in developing countries. None the less, citizenship
is
still the single most important asset most people possess in
developed
countries
as it represents a claim on the accumulated social capital of the
relevant
country and its place in the world economy. In this case, the
appropriate
test in liberal political theory would presumably be whether a
rational
person would be willing to be born into the world irrespective of his
citizenship. Clearly the answer is negative – in which case the
present international
economic arrangements can be properly judged as unjust 25
– as liberation theology would argue from quite
different premises.
In
a single global economy, the poorest countries and vulnerable groups who
do not possess the resources to compete effectively have become more vulnerable
to exogenous shocks and fall further behind in the race for technological
competence. 26
From
this point of view, development cooperation (‘aid’) can be seen
as part of an international social safety net which reflects not
only the global ethical responsibilities of the rich for the poor,
but also the claim of the poor upon the rich as members of the same
global community. This is not just a question of making
international markets work more efficiently, so that the welfare of
both donors and recipients is increased; the ethical argument for
aid derives from the obligation to relieve human suffering when this
can be done at little personal cost, which is a universal Kantian
obligation in relation to all humans simply by virtue of our shared
humanity. This obligation requires that resources be transferred to
the poor, irrespective of state or national boundaries, to provide
them with the means of survival. However, it is difficult to
establish any clear philosophical argument for aid beyond this basic
‘human entitlement’ because the Aristotelian notion of
redistributive justice is usually applied to individuals within an
identifiable community. To apply it internationally poses two
problems: first, whether the contractarian responsibility of
individuals extends beyond state boundaries; and second, whether
states can properly be considered as moral agents in the
international sphere. 27 This issue is also one to which
liberation theology may have more to offer than liberal moral
philosophy.
Conclusion
Economics
– in the broad ‘political economy’ sense in which I have used
it in this chapter – has a central place in liberation theology.
Despite the fact that this theology does not really address the
central questions of modern economic
theory, it has undoubtedly had a significant influence on the way in
which the economics of poor countries has developed in practice. In particular,
liberation theology has changed the way in which social movements,
non-governmental organisations and international aid agencies view
economic policy – addressing such pressing problems as external
debt and structural adjustment. Moreover, the inclusion of the
prophetic critique of the
market economy within ethical discourse through concepts such as the ‘right
to life’ and ‘structural sin’ is clearly an important step
forwards in a radical
theology – not least because it permits a popular hermeneutic derived
from the everyday experience of the poor.
In
consequence, the ‘economics of liberation theology’ is very
different from other traditions in the Christian approach to
economics. On the one hand, there is the ‘mainstream’ Roman
Catholic tradition of social responsibility established by Aquinas
with its modern expression in Rerum Novarum and Populorum
Progressio.
This
tradition, which stresses the mutual responsibility of labour and
capital (and poor and rich countries) to work in harmony, is the
economic equivalent to Christian Democracy in politics and has been
particularly influential among reforming elites in Latin America
during this century. In marked contrast, liberation theology not
only considers capital and labour (the ‘civilisation of wealth’
and the ‘civilisation of poverty’) to
be essentially in conflict by their very natures, but also that
historical struggle between them will eventually lead to the
construction of the Kingdom as promised in the Beatitudes. The
difference between the two theological positions is most clear in
the notion of ‘sinful structures’ where the poverty and
exclusion in a competitive market economy as experienced by poor
societies lie at the core of the peccatum mundi. It is this
prophetic challenge, rather than association with Marxism or with
revolutionary movements, that has made the liberation theologians
the target of the Vatican.
On
the other hand, there is a long-standing Protestant tradition of approaching
the economy from the standpoint of the duties and obligations of
the Christian towards one’s fellows in the market. 28
The
duty of charitable giving to the poor is accompanied by the
obligation of responsible stewardship of wealth for the common good,
a concept which can be usefully extended to the prudent use of
natural resources on behalf of future generations. The emphasis on
fairness and individual responsibility in this approach to economics
can be seen as reflecting a greater concern with justice on earth,
so to speak, than the dominant Catholic tradition. None the
less, the liberation theologians’ emphasis on the historical
nature of class
conflict and the essentially communitarian nature of the just
economy as
a precursor of the Kingdom is very different from the essentially
individualist Protestant approach to the Christian economy, which
takes the market and its institutions as a fact of nature rather
than a sinful construct.
However,
in Latin America, many Protestant theologians in the evangelical
tradition
have been deeply influenced by (and contributed to) liberation theology – and this influence is particularly marked in the
approach to economic questions.
In
the late 1990s, although economic conditions in Latin America are
not much better than before, there has been a major change since the
1970s and 1980s in the sense that democracy and human rights are now
better established throughout the continent. This opening up of the
political sphere has probably diverted popular protest against
economic conditions away from the temple towards the forum, so to
speak. Combined with steady pressure from Rome to exclude liberation
theologians from bishoprics and seminaries, the public voice of
liberation theology on economic questions may become less audible in
years to come.
Meanwhile,
poverty is still a central problem for the global economy in the
post-cold war world:
.
. . the number of absolute poor, the truly destitute, was estimated
by the
World
Bank at 1.3 billion in 1993, and is probably still growing. One
fifth of the world lives in countries, mainly in Africa and Latin
America, where living standards actually fell during the 1980s.
Several indicators of aggregate poverty – 1.5 billion lack access
to safe water and 2 billion lack safe sanitation; more than 1
billion are illiterate, including half of the rural women – are no
less chilling than a quarter-century ago. 29
So
in the economic sphere at least ‘. . . this theology is not a
passing fashion. Its corollary – oppression – is unfortunately
not a fashion but rather a growing problem. The theology of
liberation is thus still very necessary, because Christian faith
must today respond with credibility – and theological rationality
– to the oldest and newest question as posed by Gutiérrez: how to
tell the poor that God loves them.’ 30
NOTES
1
See Phillip Berryman, Liberation Theology: the Essential Facts About
the Revolutionary Movement in Latin America and Beyond (New York,
Pantheon, 1987), chapter 3.
2
United Nations data cited in V. Bulmer-Thomas (ed.), The
New Economic Model in Latin America and its Impact on Income
Distribution and Poverty (Basingstoke, Macmillan, 1996), p. 6.
‘Poverty’ is defined as including some non-food essentials (e.g.
clothing) as well as minimal nutrition, and is roughly equivalent to
one US dollar per person per day (Organisation for Economic
Cooperation and Development, Shaping the 21st
Century: the Contribution of Development Cooperation, Paris, OECD,
1996, p. 9).
3
See V. Bulmer-Thomas, The Economic History of Latin America since
Independence (Cambridge, Cambridge University Press, 1994).
4
Ignacio Ellacurìa,
‘Utopía y profetismo’ in I.Ellacurìa and J. Sobrino (eds.),
Mysterium liberationis: conceptos
fundamentales del la teología de liberación (Madrid, Editorial
Trotta, 1990), vol. I, pp. 393–442.
5
Carlos Bravo, ‘Jesús de Nazaret: el Cristo liberador’ in ibid.,
vol. I, pp. 551–74.
6
See Cristobal Kay, Latin American Theories of Development and
Underdevelopment (London, Routledge, 1989).
7
These ‘new social movements’ include groups of peasants,
slum-dwellers, women etc. They are quite different from traditional
political parties insofar as they do not seek state power, nor are
they organised on a hierarchical basis. Liberation theology has been
strongly influenced by (and has in turn contributed to) the growth
of these movements throughout Latin America and even world-wide.
8
Pablo Richard, ‘Teología en la teología
de liberación’, in Ellacurìa
and Sobrino (eds.), Mysterium liberationis, vol. I, pp. 201–22.
9
The Spanish word fiesta is inadequately translated by the pallid
English ‘party’; it contains a strong sense of community and
also of celebration – almost equivalent to agape.
10
See Berryman, Liberation Theology, chapter 2.
11
José Ignacio
González Faus, ‘Pecado’ in
Ellacurìa and
Sobrino (eds.), Mysterium liberationis, vol. II, pp. 93–106.
12
Ricardo Antoncich, ‘Teología de la liberación y doctrina social
de la Iglesia’, in ibid., vol. I, pp. 145–68.
13
Franz Hinkelhammert, Crítica a la razón utópica (San Jose de
Costa Rica, DEI, 1984).
14
Berryman, Liberation Theology, chapter 3.
15
Gilberto da Silva Gorgulho, ‘Hermenéutica
bíblica’, in Ellacurìa
and Sobrino (eds.), Mysterium liberationis, vol. I, pp. 169–200.
16
See Enrique Dussel, ‘Teología de la liberación y marxismo’ in
ibid., vol. I, pp. 115–144; and also
Berryman, Liberation Theology, chapter 9, ‘Using Marxism’.
17
As well as Kay, Latin American Theories, see C. Furtado, Economic
Development of Latin America (Cambridge,
Cambridge University Press, 1970) and R. Prebisch, ‘A
Critique of Peripheral Capitalism’, Cepal Review No. 1
(Santiago de Chile, United Nations
Commission for Latin America and the Caribbean, 1976).
18
Bulmer-Thomas, The New Economic Model, ‘Introduction’.
19
E. V. K. FitzGerald, The Macroeconomics of Development Finance: a
Kaleckian Analysis of the Semi-industrial Economy (Basingstoke,
Macmillan, 1993).
20
E. V. K. FitzGerald, ‘Stabilization and Economic Justice: the Case
of Nicaragua’, in K. S. Kim and D. F. Ruccio (eds.), Debt and
Development in Latin America (Notre
Dame, IN, University of Notre Dame Press, 1985).
21
N. Barr, The Economics of the Welfare State, 2nd edn (London,
Weidenfeld & Nicolson, 1993).
22
D. Rile, ‘Citizenship and the Welfare State’, in J. Allen, P.
Barham and P. Lewis (eds.), Political and Economic Forms of Modernity
(Cambridge, Polity Press for The Open University, 1992), pp. 179–228.
23
J. Rawls, A Theory of Justice (Oxford, Clarendon Press, 1972).
24
J. Dreze and A. K. Sen, Hunger and Public Action (Oxford, Clarendon
Press, 1989), chapter 2.
25
C. Beitz, Political Theory and International Relations (Princeton,
NJ, Princeton University Press, 1987).
26
United Nations Research Institute for Social Development, States of
Disarray: The Social Effects of Globalization (London, Earthscan,
1995).
27
B. R. Opeskin, ‘The Moral Foundations of Foreign Aid’, World
Development 24.1 (1996), pp. 21–44.
28
See Donald A. Hay, Economics Today: a Christian Critique (Leicester,
Apollos, 1989).
29
Commission on Global Governance, Our Global Neighbourhood (Oxford,
Oxford University Press, 1995), p. 139.
30
Ellacurìa and Sobrino, Mysterium liberationis, p. 12 (author’s
translation).
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