In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:

Peace under Fire / 49 ex-guerrilla who leads a weekly Bible study in the outskirts of Nebaj explained, “If Ríos Montt is really guilty, if he had something to do with all those massacres , he will suffer the consequences. In my opinion it’s better to leave it all in God’s hands.” God’s “divine plan” and omniscience, interpreted through the Pentecostal lens in Nebaj, were so widely accepted as incontrovertible that, when asked why they thought Nebaj was the target of so much violence and suffering, a significant number of Ixil evangélicos responded that they deserved to be punished for their paganism: [In the Bible] there was a king named Amaziah. God gave him power to defeat his enemies. But when he defeated his enemies, he began to worship their gods, and then God’s wrath came against him. . . . God didn’t want him to suffer a war. But he . . . started to burn incense, and within a few days war came against him . . . because God sent it. . . . We once burned incense and worshipped pagan gods, so God brought the war to save our souls. All in all, evangelical Nebajenses prefer to leave the difficult task of punishing those responsible for mass death to a God they trust will do the right thing—perhaps because they view the majority of human endeavors to be sinful and selfish. For this reason, in addition to the almost palpable anxiety about poking fingers in old wounds (cf. Nelson 1999), they do not feel represented by a peace process led by human rights workers, foreign or national, who believe there can be no peace without justice. Digging Up the Past One of the most difficult tasks of the peace process has been the systematic exhumation of massacre sites in every department of the country. In accordance with the recommendations of both the Peace Accords and CEH, forensic anthropologists from all over the world have been working for over a decade, meticulously unearthing, cataloging, and identifying remains so that relatives of the victims may give them a proper burial. The exhumation of clandestine cemeteries is a slow, grueling, and emotionally taxing process, which is perhaps why little more than one-half of the over 400 massacre sites have been exhumed to date.Though the location of thousands of Guatemalans who disappeared would seem overwhelmingly desirable, it is also highly controversial, and some of the delays forensic teams must deal with are the result of local— primarily evangelical—opposition (cf. Sanford 2003:118–120). 50 / Philpot-Munson Many evangelicals in Nebaj expressed outright opposition to the exhumation of clandestine cemeteries. In a household survey I conducted in February 2001, approximately 82 percent of evangelicals, as opposed to 12 percent of Catholics, felt clandestine cemeteries should not be exhumed. Again, it was especially interesting to find that many evangelicals who had lost one or more family members during the war felt that the bones “should remain where they are.” The most energetic preacher I met in Nebaj, whose father was killed by the army when he was six, had this to say: I see now all these institutions coming from other countries, . . . coming to pull up bones.That is horrible! It is waking the hatred again in the people. . . . It already happened! What are they doing?! I thank God that the majority is evangelical now; otherwise people would start to fight with the army again.But the Guatemalans have the love of God now and don’t pay attention to those people. Digging up bones, . . . what would you do if they told you:“That is your father. Look, here is his bone”? And if you aren’t evangelical: “And who killed him?!” “It was the army.” . . . The hatred would start all over again. If the gospel wasn’t here in Guatemala , there’d be more war, more violence. Period. In fact,68 percent of the evangelicals opposed to the exhumations claimed that at least one immediate family member had disappeared or been killed during the conflict, and all voiced concerns about reawakening hostility within the community. An Ixil textile vendor whose husband, uncle, and three sons were abducted by the civil patrol in 1982 and never seen again said: “It’s not good to relive cruel moments, and there just doesn’t seem to be much justification for such things. I don’t know whose idea it was because it reawakens resentments. If we base ourselves in a sense of peace, those things are...

Share