Yesterday in Guatemala City, Efraín Rios-Montt, the former military dictator of Guatemala went on trial for his role in the genocide that claimed the lives of 200,000 men, women, children, and babies.

Here is a small glimpse into what life was like under his rule:

Then they took me to another door, and there were planks along the top of that doorway. Have you seen the crucifixion? Well here, very nearly, was Jesus Christ; there was a man, there was half of a man—the most horrendous thing I had ever seen—a man totally disfigured. He already had worms, he had no teeth, no hair, his face was disfigured, he was hanging, I mean, by his hand. (Woman quoted in Guatemala: Never Again.)

The start of this trial represents a huge victory for the many human rights activists who have fought for decades for justice. It is a victory for the Archbishop’s Office for Human Rights, which through the Recovery of Historical Memory Project has worked to reveal the truth of this era. It also is a victory for the memory of Bishop Juan Gerardi, who was bludgeoned to death—so disfigured that his corpse was identified by his episcopal ring—two days after his office published Guatemala: Never Again.

It is a victory for human rights law. According to Reuters, “This is the first time a country has prosecuted an ex-head of state in a national court on [charges of genocide and crimes against humanity].” That this prosecution is occurring in a national court is truly groundbreaking. Sometimes human rights law can seem amorphous and fake, not connected to the day-to-day realities of local and national governments. This case shows that human rights violations also have a place in our normal court systems.

But, most especially, it is a victory for the indigenous Mayan men and women who (since civilian rule returned in 1986 and peace accords were signed in 1996) have been determined to be witnesses, testigos, martyrs to the truth. I had the immense privilege of working with the Guatemala Accompaniment Project more than a decade ago, when it was anything but clear that we would see this trial happen. By the request of Guatemalans returning from exile, since 1995, accompaniers have gone to Guatemala—from Guatemala City to hamlets far removed from passable roads—to be with the men and women who want the full truth to be known. So much of this work was exceptionally slow—after fast-paced life in the US, learning the rhythm of the countryside. Some of it was painful—seeing communities tear each other apart due to the divisions that the military had exploited decades earlier. Some of it was joyous—kicking out the ceremonial first kick of a soccer tournament (that my village won!).

I can’t predict the outcome of this trial and don’t need to.  But, reflecting upon the day I first arrived in Guatemala in 1998 and found myself at the 40-day commemoration of Monsenor Gerardi’s martyrdom, I see the trust in the process that these extraordinary Guatemalans have come to embrace:

Trust in the Slow Work of God

Above all, trust in the slow work of God

We are quite naturally impatient in everything

to reach the end without delay

We should like to skip the intermediate stages.

We are impatient of being on the way to something

unknown, something new. And yet it is the law of all progress

that it is made by passing through

some stages of instability-

and that it may take a very long time.

And so I think it is with you.

your ideas mature gradually – let them grow,

let them shape themselves, without undue haste. Don’t try to force them on,

as though you could be today what time

(that is to say, grace and circumstances

acting on your own good will)

will make of you tomorrow. Only God could say what this new spirit

gradually forming within you will be. Give Our Lord the benefit of believing

that his hand is leading you, and accept the anxiety of feeling yourself

in suspense and incomplete.

–

Pierre Teilhard de Chardin, S.J.