Mexico Archives - Bob on Books

Cover image of "The Lawless Roads" by Graham Greene

The Lawless Roads, Graham Greene. Open Road Media (ISBN: 9781504054263) 2018 (first published in 1939).

Summary: Greene’s journey through Mexico to the states of Chiapas and Tabasco where Catholicism was most severely repressed.

Graham Greene is one of my favorite novelists. However, I would not pick him as a travel writer. I have to admit to not looking closely when I purchased The Lawless Roads, only discovering after beginning to read the book, that it was a non-fiction account of Greene’s journey from north to south in Mexico during 1938. His publisher asked him to investigate the anti-Catholic purges in the states of Chiapas and Tabasco.

These began in the 1920’s under Plutarco Elías Calles, President of Mexico from 1924 to 1928 and de facto leader of the country from 1929-1934. Being a Catholic, the publisher thought Greene would have a special connection to the people. As a travel account, it is a dreary read, reflecting the dysfunctional and dangerous character of Mexico in this period. However, the account served as backgroud of perhaps his most acclaimed novel, The Power and the Glory.

He begins at Laredo, then crosses over into northern Mexico, where he succeeds in interviewing General Cedillo, leader of a rebel state. As it turns out, Cedillo is aging and President Cardenas will soon replace him. He then makes his way to Mexico City, describing the life of the city, attending Mass, and meeting the exiled Bishop of Chiapas, “considered “one of the most dangerous and astute of the Mexican bishops.” That visit hardened his determination to reach Las Casas. Then, he travels to Veracruz, on the coast.

From here the journey grows more perilous. He books passage on the Ruiz Cano, little more than a barge, in unbearable heat, with constant rolling motion, and cramped quarters with no sex divisions. Then, he takes another barge from Frontera to Villahermosa, capitol of Tabasco, meets up with a Scottish adventurer, and spends a Sunday with no Mass, comforting himself in a godless state by reading Trollope. Then on to Salto in a small plane, from which he hoped to get a flight to Las Casas. Instead, he settles for a mule trip to Yajalon, with a sketchy guide, from which he hopes to catch a plane. Before departing, he learns of covert mass baptisms by itinerant priests in Yajalon

Finally, when no plane turns up, he embarks on another mule trip across the mountains to Las Casas, braving Arctic chills, changes in elevation, and passing cemeteries of slain Catholics, before finally reaching his destination in time for Holy Week. Masses occur in private homes, hidden services on Good Friday, a visit to the site of miraculous healings on Easter. All the while evidence of the suppression of faith is all about.

By this time, Greene himself is deathly sick with dysentery and we wonder if he will make it back. He does and in an epilogue recounts the journey home. Mass in Chelsea is “curiously fictitious.” He writes:

“[N]o peon knelt with his arms out in the attitude of the cross, no woman dragged herself up the aisle on her knees. It would have seemed shocking, like the Agony itself. We do not mortify ourselves. Perhaps we are in need of violence.”

Greene’s narrative has little plot, only a destination. Apart from the gritty faith of the people, led by courageous priests, there is little to inspire. Crass tourism, corrupt government, risky transport, and endless heat and mosquitoes are recurring themes. Perhaps the most suspenseful part of the account is our uncertainty that Greene will survive. At best, it is an unvarnished account of the aftermath of totalitarian rule.

So this is a tough read. It offers good background for The Power and the Glory. It describes the venality that descends on a nation under totalitarian rule. And it recounts the instances of courage of faith-led resistance. If you are a Greene fan and these reasons are important to you, it is a worthwhile read. Otherwise, you may just find it a slog.

My view walking to breakfast each morning

Some of you who follow this blog might be curious where I was this past week that led to taking a break from posting new material. I don’t always like posting about travel away from home before hand on social media. As it turns out, I was in Mexico for the past five days at an international conference of collegiate ministries that is held once every four years. I was invited to lead one of the workshops during the conference and also to give one of the plenary addresses. There were roughly 1100 delegates from approximately 159 nations present.

Slavic and Zina from Moldova

Needless to say, it was a new and humbling experience to be in such a global gathering of people who work in higher education. At one meal, I would be talking with a national leader of a student movement from Korea, at another, a leader from Malawi. I have been on a list serve with a number of people from around the world and had the opportunity to meet many of them face to face for the first time. I met a Peruvian who had written me some time back (I’d actually forgotten this!) about book recommendations for research he was doing. What a surprise to learn that my name appears in the acknowledgement page of his paper! I had the opportunity to meet the national leader and one of the staff leaders of the student movement of Moldova. We’ve helped their work in various ways over the years but had never personally met–a wonderful highlight!

It will take me a good while to sort out all the experiences of these days, which were packed morning to night–hence no time for blogging. But a few initial impressions:

One was an overwhelming sense of our common humanity, shared faith and calling. We are all people working in the world of higher education seeking to connect our faith with the lives and studies of students and faculty. But there is more. We all have families with the joys and concerns these bring. We all struggle with the exigencies of daily existence and in finding the resources to do what we dream.

Another impression was of the incredible mosaic of diversity reflected in music, languages, dress, and other cultural practices. For one thing, it was a joy to discover the hospitality of our Mexican hosts, the pride they have in their rich culture, and the beauty of their country. In the United States, there is a strong tendency simply to view Mexico as a problem. I came away finding myself thinking that until we can appreciate the richness of culture, of physical beauty, and among many, the faith, hard work, and pride of Mexico’s people, we will have much more difficulty resolving the problems that exist between our nations. Viva Mexico!

And this was true wherever I looked. I met people who, even though they had a clear eyed appreciation of the challenges their countries and their universities face, are people who love deeply their countries and their universities and the students and faculty with whom they work. I got a glimpse of the unique opportunities and challenges many face and also realized even more deeply how much I do not understand.

A final impression I will share here is what an impressive group of people this was, both spiritually and intellectually! In the track I helped co-lead (with a New Zealander and a Sri Lankan) we had gifted faculty from all over the world. One was the first female president of her university in Trinidad. I heard a student from New Zealand give a message that would put to shame many seminary-educated pastors in my country. I heard a Palestinian Christian speak about suffering and yet speak out against anti-Semitism. I was impressed afresh with how much we can learn from the rest of the world!

These are first impressions. As I said, the conversations and experiences of these days will be something I mull over for a long time.