by Plinio Corrêa de Oliveira
Physical or moral manifestations of violence are surfacing everywhere. I will only mention recent events more directly related to the topic I will discuss.
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Moscow’s Pravda published a lengthy article by Sergei Kovalev on the freedom and self-determination of the nations that make up the Soviet bloc. Let me highlight two concepts from the article. One is:
The people of socialist countries and Communist parties certainly have and should have the freedom to determine the ways of advancement of their respective countries. However, none of their decisions should damage either socialism in their country or the fundamental interests of other socialist countries.[1]
This means freedom is the right to do as Moscow wants and nothing else. This strange idea of freedom also shows up as the article goes on:
However, none of their decisions should damage either socialism in their country or the fundamental interests of other socialist countries, and the whole working-class movement, which is working for socialism.
In other words, no country under Soviet control could have national interests that conflicted with those of the USSR. Inspired by the government, this article serves as a regulation for the unfortunate nations of the “bloc.” It explains the occupation of Czechoslovakia and states the Kremlin’s resolve to treat other defiant countries in the same way. This threat is moral violence that follows physical violence—the invasion of St. Wenceslaus’ homeland.
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Fidel Castro delivered one of his famous speeches at Revolution Square in Havana. After condemning a wave of anticommunist “terrorism” affecting the poor and discontented martyr nation, the dictator appealed to principles and expressed, in the name of his ideology, his rejection of Czechoslovakia’s stance. “In Cuba, we will not tolerate a repeat of the Czechoslovakian problem, with prostitution, parasitism, and broken ideology, since we are communist collectivist socialists.” After a few tirades against the real or supposed excesses of Cuban “melenudos,” he again invoked principles: “What do these young people want? Do they think we live under a liberal bourgeois regime?” And he added, “They are mistaken. We are not liberals. We are communists. If they do not understand this through persuasion, it will be necessary to use other methods.” He then threatened with military service all students of both sexes who dropped out of school aged between eleven (!) and sixteen. In short, the island dominated by violence is revolting, and a new wave of violence threatens to crush this revolt. In the process, the youth in schools are threatened with brutal treatment in the name of principles that, so to speak, “canonize” violence.
I recently read about these events in the daily news. In my view, they are classic examples not only of violence but also of institutionalized violence, because they are carried out by a government or under its influence in the name of principles it officially claims to uphold.
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I now shift my focus from the global stage to South America. In Brazil, the TFP’s recent campaign was simply a peaceful exercise of free speech for social and religious ideas, not only ours but also those of a million and a half Brazilians who signed our petition. However, from north to south, we faced attacks from small groups of fanatical leftists who refused to engage in dialogue with our young men and resorted to physical violence.
Yet, not all acts of intolerance toward us came from troublemakers. I am holding a newspaper clipping in which Most Rev. José Maria Pires, archbishop of João Pessoa, states that the TFP “does not accept dialogue in any way.” He adds: “Dialogue with them [TFP] would simply mean accepting their position” (Diário da Noite, 9/25/68). How passionate must this prelate be to say this about an organization like the TFP, which is full of widely circulated doctrinal works, each of which is a calm and courteous invitation to dialogue?
Let us return to our main topic. Following the example set by the Medellín Bishops Conference, we should not see our problems only on a national level but also consider our sister countries. From Chile, Patricio Larraín, president of the Chilean Society for the Defense of Tradition, Family, and Property, writes to me that volunteers of this honorable and promising organization have been attacked several times on the street. Two of them were seriously injured by rioters whom the police failed to punish. Similarly, Cosme Beccar Varela Hijo, a rising advocate for Argentine youth and president of the Argentine TFP, recently told me that at the close of the campaign in Buenos Aires, two well-dressed young men broke into the organization’s headquarters with a revolver, cowardly fired ten shots, and wounded an unarmed member who was blocking the entrance. I mention these incidents to illustrate how widespread a climate of violence is across Brazil, the Americas, and the world.
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I also want to emphasize that now, more than ever, is the time to embrace nonviolent methods and strive for peace. This enthusiasm for peace reminds us that in the current climate of violence, engaging with the idea of violence can be the most damaging thing we do. In my opinion, the “Action, Justice, and Peace” movement has been part of this sad and dangerous game from the very beginning.
It did so, first of all, when, in crying out against the “institutionalized violence” existing throughout our country, for which “the capitalists are to blame,” this movement failed to raise an even greater outcry against communists, who are agitating from north to south to impose here the insurmountably terrible institutionalized violence that prevails in the Soviet bloc, Cuba, and China. Are they not playing games by calling what exists in Brazil “institutionalized violence” and not applying the same label to the situation in the communist world, then melodramatically calling on Brazilians to end this “violence” without opening their eyes to the palpable, concrete, and grave danger of a communist dictatorship, which is a thousand times greater?
This movement repeated itself when, during his inaugural ceremony in Recife, Dom Helder Câmara discussed his organization’s nonviolent approach, which was incidentally launched under Gandhi’s guidance. (They preferred him over St. Francis of Assisi, whose feast day falls two days after the Hindu commemorative date. Why this preference, for God’s sake?) According to a São Paulo morning newspaper, a banner at the site bore these words: “Action, Justice, and Peace, the last legal resort.” If Brazil refuses to be passively shaped by this movement, the only option will be to resort to illegal means. Fr. Comblin’s hopes suggest that a minority will impose populist tyranny. What is this if not a threat of violence? Is it not playing with the word “violence” to call oneself nonviolent when one does not demand that the subversive banner be taken down or publicly protest it?
Regardless of what the banner says, the movement’s core nature presents a fundamental challenge: its spokespersons now need to speak out to reassure the Brazilian people. The question is this: Will the movement continue to condemn violence if it fails to persuade Brazil, which rejects the reforms (as drastic as nebulous) that it considers essential?
Until this definition is provided, it will be impossible to take its non-violent preaching seriously.
[1] “Sovereignty and International Duties of Socialist Countries,” Pravda, 9/25/1968. https://www.jstor.org/stable/45312083?read-now=1&seq=1#page_scan_tab_contents. Accessed 9/16/2025.