Colonialism spread across the world not only by physically subjugating native and Indigenous communities but also by suppressing their cultures and languages while imposing foreign value systems. The role of the Church and Christianity in advancing the European order in Latin America is well-documented but often treated as an "international secret." However, over time, the Church became a significant force in fostering peace and order in Colombia and emerged as a symbol of resistance against colonial powers. The beautiful church I visited in central Bogotá bears witness to the transformative processes Colombia has undergone since the 15th century. Originally established by Spanish merchants, it later became a symbol of Colombian national identity.
The Church of Veracruz stands tall near BolÃvar Square, a reminder of Christianity’s deep roots in Colombia. My dear friend, Juan Manuel Quinche, took time from his busy schedule to guide me through a walk in Bogotá’s historic Spanish quarter. Beyond the grandeur of BolÃvar Square and its vibrant streets, the Church of Veracruz is renowned for its historical connection to Colombia’s independence movement. Construction began in 1631 under the Veracruz Brotherhood.
This church embodies Colombia’s national identity, as it houses the remains of numerous heroes of the independence movement. Between June and November 1816, approximately 80 independence fighters were executed during the Spanish reconquest and buried here, as the Veracruz Brotherhood was responsible for assisting and interring those executed. Inside, the church is awe-inspiring, adorned with flags representing countries that emerged from Gran Colombia—Colombia, Venezuela, Ecuador, and Panama—alongside a Vatican flag. Juan explained, “The flags, from left to right, correspond to Bolivia, Peru, Ecuador, Colombia, Venezuela, and possibly Chile, with the yellow and white flag likely representing the diocese, a religious territorial authority appointed by the Pope. These flags symbolize Simón BolÃvar’s vision of a unified ‘Gran Colombia,’ and their presence in Veracruz honors the heroes buried here.”
A military officer, Arnold Pérez, welcomed Juan and me inside the church, a designated national monument. Although he spoke no English, Juan translated. “Where are you from, and why are you here?” Arnold asked. I explained that I’m from India and wanted to visit this historic church. “Are you a Christian?” he inquired. I responded, “I am a humanist and respect all faiths. I deeply admire the work Christians have done in India, particularly in health, education, and development.” Arnold shared details about the church’s significance in Colombian history, emphasizing its role in the resistance against colonial powers. I complimented the church’s grandeur, noting the Vatican flag with pride. He listened attentively, visibly moved by my appreciation, and said, “All religions speak of peace and equality.” He encouraged Juan to show me other notable sites.
As evening fell, the church was quiet, with only a few individuals praying silently. An elderly woman approached the statue of Jesus Christ, bowed briefly, then walked toward me. With tears in her eyes, she grasped my hand and asked me to pray for the well-being of an opposition leader recently shot in Colombia. I explained that I was from India but wished the leader a speedy recovery.
While Simón BolÃvar remains Colombia’s most iconic figure, Gabriel GarcÃa Márquez brought the country global recognition through his extraordinary writings. Just a few hundred meters from BolÃvar Square lies a beautiful library and bookstore dedicated to Márquez. The streets around the square buzz with vendors selling books, a testament to Colombia’s thriving literary tradition.
Plazoleta del Rosario: A Contested Legacy
As we strolled through the lively, crowded streets near BolÃvar Square, I admired the traditional Spanish-style houses. We arrived at Plazoleta del Rosario, established on August 6, 1974, to commemorate Bogotá’s Spanish heritage. In 2017, a statue of Gonzalo Jiménez de Quesada, considered the founder of Bogotá, was erected here. However, Juan shared a striking story: on May 7, 2021, Indigenous protesters, demonstrating against government policies, toppled the statue during a broader wave of anti-colonial protests. Similar movements across the United States, the UK, and elsewhere saw Indigenous and native groups dismantle statues of European “explorers,” whom they viewed as oppressors rather than discoverers.
Juan elaborated, “Gonzalo Jiménez de Quesada, a Spanish conqueror, proclaimed himself the founder of Bogotá on August 6, 1538, renaming the Indigenous Muisca territory of Bacatá as Santa Fe de Bogotá. He was involved in the search for El Dorado, an exploration driven by greed for gold, which led to the dispossession of native communities.” Juan, a human rights defender with roots in Colombia’s peasantry, studied in Sweden and Norway but remains committed to advocating for native rights.
He continued, “During the COVID-19 pandemic, national protests erupted against the extreme-right government’s injustices. Indigenous communities, alongside other social groups, gathered in downtown squares, including Plazoleta del Rosario, in front of the conservative Rosario University. Protesters toppled Quesada’s statue, and some proposed renaming the nearby Jiménez Avenue as Misak Avenue, after the Indigenous Misak people who participated in the action. The statue has not been reinstated, reflecting public sentiment against its return.”
This incident underscores how prolonged systemic brutalities can spark public outrage, leading to the destruction of symbols associated with historical injustices. While the act of toppling statues is debated, it reflects the enduring legacy of colonial oppression, often preserved by ruling elites.
Colombia’s name, derived from Christopher Columbus, illustrates how colonial powers erased or reconstructed native histories. Columbus, who never set foot in Colombia, is commemorated through Columbus Day, celebrated on the second Monday of October to mark his arrival in the Americas on October 12, 1492. The narrative that Columbus “discovered” America ignores the vibrant civilizations that existed long before his arrival. Similarly, I was taught in school that Vasco da Gama “discovered” India upon arriving in Calicut, Kerala, on May 20, 1498 (not 1948, as incorrectly stated in the original). This framing dismisses India’s ancient history, as if it only existed once Europeans documented it.
Indigenous scholars and students worldwide are now challenging these narratives, questioning whether figures like Columbus and da Gama were explorers or invaders. Many advocate replacing Columbus Day with Indigenous Peoples’ Day to honor native histories. History, once a tool of colonial domination, is now being reclaimed by native historians to reshape narratives and build a future informed by past lessons.
Near Plazoleta del Rosario stands Universidad del Rosario, originally founded as Colegio Mayor de Nuestra Señora del Rosario on October 19, 1653, by Fray Cristóbal de Torres, Archbishop of Santafé de Bogotá. As Colombia’s oldest university, it has deep Catholic roots tied to Spanish colonization. Initially a college for Spanish settlers, it focused on governance and theology, serving as a training ground for the colonial elite. By 1704, it became a full university offering courses in law, theology, and philosophy, producing nine Colombian presidents and cementing its role as a bastion of the political elite. Juan noted, “Rosario University was historically conservative, educating the country’s elite in a cloistered environment. In contrast, Universidad Externado was founded in 1886 as a more accessible alternative. Rosario’s reputation has waned due to poor international exam results and corruption scandals, particularly in its law program.”
The colonial project relied on controlling education, limiting access for Indigenous populations, and using religion to propagate European dominance. Fray Cristóbal de Torres, who governed the Archbishopric in 1636, was the first to grant Communion to Indigenous people, a century after the Spanish conquest—a small but significant step toward inclusion.
Ironically, Simón BolÃvar, Colombia’s greatest anti-colonial hero, named the country after Columbus. BolÃvar envisioned a Greater Colombia encompassing present-day Colombia, Venezuela, Ecuador, Panama, and parts of Peru and Bolivia. However, internal rivalries dissolved this dream in 1831, a year after BolÃvar’s death in 1830. BolÃvar Square, Bogotá’s most iconic public space, is named in his honor. Declared a national monument on October 19, 1995, it was originally built in 1539 as Plaza Mayor and was the site of the Independence Cry on July 20, 1810. A bronze statue of BolÃvar, crafted by Italian artist Pietro Tenerani in 1846, stands as Bogotá’s first public monument.
Despite BolÃvar’s anti-colonial legacy, his administration built upon colonial structures, focusing on external unification while neglecting domestic inequalities. This led to growing disparities, controlled by an urban settler elite, and fueled violent insurgencies, including communist armed resistance. A peace accord in 2016, facilitated by Cuba, finally subdued these conflicts.
Liberation Theology of Abya Yala
To distance itself from its colonial past, the Church in Latin America has embraced liberation theology, aligning with the struggles of the oppressed. By engaging with local communities, it has earned the trust of diverse groups, including former communists. In Colombia, the Church has become a symbol of national liberation and integration, amplifying the voices of Indigenous communities resisting colonial legacies.
The term “Abya Yala,” used by Indigenous groups across North and South America, refers to the Americas as a “land of fertile blood” in the Guna language of Panama and Colombia. It has been adopted by groups like the Mapuche, Quechua, and Mexica to reclaim their identity and heritage. Abya Yala theology reframes Christianity through a decolonizing lens, emphasizing harmony with the land and solidarity with the oppressed, rather than alignment with colonial power.
By embracing Abya Yala’s framework, Christianity is redefining itself in regions where it once enabled colonial plunder. Today, it stands with Colombia’s marginalized communities, advocating for peace and justice rooted in Indigenous values.
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*Human rights defender
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