“Where Are We Headed?” – Folha de S. Paulo, March 5, 1980

by Plinio Corrêa de Oliveira

Press, radio, television—each, in its moment, stood as a symbol of vivid contemporaneity: swift and sensational information, lively intercommunication, and the exhilarating sense of a world in motion. They became decisive forces in that bustling, dazzling, fast-paced way of life which, at least until the early 1970s, endowed the word modernity with a kind of talismanic charm for the masses. Any environment permeated by this triple presence seemed to breathe freshness, vitality, even health. By contrast, places untouched by them appeared somber, heavy with mildew, and marked by the decrepitude of age. And because press, radio, and television had spread across the civilized world, many imagined that gloom, mildew, and decrepitude had been banished forever.

I did not join the brotherhood of frenzied enthusiasts of talismanic progress. I lived among them, fundamentally at odds with their beliefs by conviction and temperament. In this, as in other things, I differed profoundly from many of my contemporaries.

The avant-garde, the “arditi” or hotheads of progress, have always labeled me as medieval, an epithet I have always accepted with pride. Today, I can’t help but smile to see that the most “arditi” among these “arditi” are nostalgically turning to the pre-Neolithic era as a model for the future…

While progress does not unfold into prehistory, it creates an atmosphere filled with wear and tear, misunderstandings, and conflicts around the world. In the 1970s, gloom, mold, and old age achieved unexpected victories. For example, they unexpectedly seeped into the press, radio, and television.

These thoughts and reflections I’ve developed came to mind regarding John Paul II’s upcoming visit to Brazil.

There is reason to fear that international news agencies, radio stations, and television networks—so often stale, resistant to genuine and healthy innovations, and trapped in their own mold—will give the Pontiff’s visit to Brazil far less coverage than the facts warrant. If John Paul II were visiting London or Brussels, the global publicity would almost certainly be far greater. I say this without the slightest disparagement of those illustrious cities; if such a disparity occurs, it will be due to routine, fatigue, and intellectual mildew. Some of the major news agencies have yet to grasp a clear and fundamental truth: Latin America is the world of the twenty-first century. In this light, the Pontiff’s return to this part of the New World—this time to meet the giant of this family of nations—deserves our full attention. I have the distinct impression that, from within the old and glorious Vatican, the Pontiff—emerging from the mists of his oppressed, distant, yet ever‑beloved Poland—perceives the immensity of our future mission more clearly than many glittering outlets of an illusory and self-satisfied present.

In fact, John Paul II once again encounters a large group of three hundred million Catholics who, from northern Mexico to Patagonia, cover twenty million square kilometers, mostly bordered by the two largest seas on Earth. He clearly traveled to Mexico to share his thoughts and hopes. I feel he is returning to Latin America with a penetrating gaze, full of smiling curiosity and affection, along with a fundamental question. What is that question?

With all focus on Brazil’s borders and the economic issues that captivate the country, the CNBB’s senior leadership chose the motto “The Eucharist and Migration” for the upcoming Eucharistic Congress. There is every reason to fear that the main points of many speeches may focus less on Christ in the Eucharist, the Sun of the Church and of Christendom, and more on misleading themes and artificial problems used by agitators to distort the public view of migration. For instance, like everything that is exaggerated, this is reflected in the melodramatic and insignificant poster of their ‘Fraternity Campaign’: a closed gate, beside which stands a discouraged and dejected couple, with their small child lying almost naked on the ground. At the top of the gate, this coldly selfish inscription: “We have no vacancies.” And below, the question: “Where are you going?”.

It seems to me that, by a rare coincidence, the same words come from the Pontiff’s lips, addressed to Brazil and, in Brazil, to all sister nations: “Where are you going?” Yes, where is Ibero-America heading amid the current chaos, pulled in different directions by various influences, shaken by the moral and social upheavals sweeping the world, yet excited by the vigorous growth of all its youthful energies.

“Where are you going?” These words, somewhere between hopeful and anxious, are what many parents say to their children as they take their first steps into adolescence. Familiar, simple words that, in this second encounter between Peter’s successor and the future world, carry heavy meaning. Rarely in two thousand years has a pope asked such a grand, serious question in such a dire situation: Where are you going, 21st century?

Let us know how to respond to the Pontiff. This doesn’t require eloquent speeches or frantic televised messages. If every Brazilian carries their personal answer to this question in their soul, if each person meditates and knows how to respond to where we are headed, I hope that John Paul II will notice it more clearly than in the ambiguous or empty chatter of many theologians, philosophers, sociologists, economists, and politicians. He will be able to read them in the dark, affectionate, and luminous eyes of the Brazilian people.

But, after all, where are we heading? Does every reader have a clear understanding of this?