The Trial Begins:

Even before the trial started at 9am in the courtroom of Judge Wanger, the courtroom was full, with people having converged from San Francisco, Los Angeles and Fresno, many wearing their Oscar Romero buttons (provided by Isabel Cardenas from Los Angeles). People from the Fresno Oscar Romero Center stood in solidarity outside with a beautiful banner.

Lead counsel Nicholas van Aelstyn, partner with the San Francisco office of Heller Ehrman White & McAuliffe, set forth the broad contours of the case in a powerful opening argument. (The transcript will be posted in a few days.)

Van Aelstyn brought the judge and the courtroom audience to the doorstep of the same chapel where, on March 24, 1980, Archbishop Romero conducted a commemorative mass. Van Aelystyn played an audio tape of the homily Romero was delivering that night. We listened as a loud gunshot intruded, and screaming followed. And then we viewed a series of traumatic photographs showing Romero’s fallen body as the nuns around tended him, there faces wracked with grief.

He noted that Archbishop Oscar Romero in his life was a symbol of hope and inspiration, Romero was the most prominent and outspoken advocate for human rights foe El Salvador. He was the one person who could talk to all the factions in Slavadorian society and create dialogue. For these reasons, Romero was seen as a threat. As no criminal responsibility has ever been asserted for his murder, his murder has come to serve as the paradigmatic symbol of impunity. One aim of the current case is to eliminate this aspect of his legacy.

Mr. van Aelstyn pointed out that a major task of the judge in this case is to determine the appropriate amount of damages to be awarded. He noted that the loss of Romero cannot be comprehended without understanding his life and the impact of his death in El Salvador and the world. Van Aelstyn enumerated the following relevant legal factors: the brutality of the act; the egregiousness of the defendant’s conduct; the unavailability of a criminal remedy; and the extent of international condemnation of the act. In addition, and very importantly, judges set the amount of damages so as to deter others from committing similar acts and to redress the harm caused to the plaintiff, his country and the world.

Mr. van Aelstyn emphasized the many purposes to be served by this case. The case will break the impunity that has shrouded this infamous crime. It will have a deterrent effect on all those who think about coming to the U.S, and will send the message that human rights abusers cannot retire to the United States without fear that they may be pursued. Indeed this case may help lead to Saravia’s arrest and eventual deportation. The case contributes to the world-wide movement against impunity, and it will help to establish the truth of what happened and who bears responsibility. The case represents the channeling of vengence into the rule of law.

Fr. William Wipfler

Mr. van Aelstyn called the first witness, Fr. William Wipfler, an Episcopal priest, who served as the Director of the Human Rights Office of the National Council of Churches from 1977-88. Because of his growing concern about the abuses by the Salvadoran military, and U.S. assistance to that military, he helped organize an ecumenical delegation to visit El Salvador in March 1980. The delegation included representatives of the U.S. Catholic Conference of Bishops and the American Friends Service Committee in addition to the National Council, itself a network of 34 Protestant and Orthodox churches.

On March 22, Fr. Wipfler met with Archbishop Romero and members of his office. During this private audience, Romero expressed his tremendous concerns about the level political violence then occurring in El Salvador. He especially noted that the overwhelming repression by the government security forces was breeding retaliatory violent attacks by the left. At that meeting, the Archbishop invited him and other members of the delegation to participate in the Sunday mass with him. It was a great honor. At the Sunday March 23, 1980 Mass, the Basilica was packed with people, and a microphone carried the service to people who clustered outside the church. A tape of the stirring homily that the Archbishop delivered that day was played in the courtroom. The homily concludes with the words that continue to ring through history: “I appeal to the members of the army: Brothers, you come from your own people … No soldier is obliged to obey an order contrary to the law of God. … I implore you, I beg you, I order you, in the name of God, stop the repression!”

Fr. Wipfler related how, at the end of the service, Archbishop Romero personally offered communion to everyone who so desired. Fr. Wipfler was deeply moved by the fact that he was the last person to receive communion from the Archbishop.

On March 24, 1980, Fr. Wipfler and the other delegates were conducting their human rights investigation at the office of the non-governmental Salvadoran Human Rights Commission. There, he received a phone call that the Archbishop had been shot. He and others rushed to the hospital. From there, they went to the U.S. Embassy. The next day, Fr. Wipfler attended the wake. Thousands of Salvadorans filed by the body. The outpouring of shock and grief was immense.

Fr. Wipfler related that he met many wonderful, courageous people in El Salvador who worked to combat human rights abuses, including many who worked for the Church. It was a great tragedy that so many of these people themselves became the victims of human rights abuses. Among these courageous people were two U.S. nuns, Maura Clarke and Dorothy Kazel, whom Fr. Wipfler met at a refuge established by the Archdiocese for displaced persons. By December, they too had been murdered.

In the following months and years, Fr. Wipfler traveled to more than 40 countries. Everywhere, Monsignor Romero was held in reverence as a voice of the voiceless, a spokesperson for the downtrodden. His homilies were quoted; everyone talked about him. One Palestinian Muslim man made a particular impression. He said that Archbishop Romero had been a great inspiration. From him he had learned that the greatest weapon for justice is truth.

Fr. Wipfler stated his view that impunity is not only the absence of justice, it is also a sin and a terrible immorality. The ease with which perpetrators forgive themselves is an abomination. This trial is one more step in the search for justice which must be constantly carried forward. It does not matter that 24 years have passed. As Fr. Wipfler emphasized, “Justice must be served and the court can serve justice.”

Amado Antonio Garay – Saravia’s Driver

Following lunch, Amado Antonion Garay took the witness stand. There was noticeable anticipation in the courtroom given that he is the witness whose identity had been concealed. Garay testified that he was born in a village in El Salvador, as a youth he attended seminary for a short time because, as he testified, “My dream was to become a priest, … to help people who were really in need.”

Garay was recruited to work as Saravia’s driver by two members of the National Police, Nelson Morales and Nelson Garcia. He often stayed at Saravia’s house because Saravia needed him to arrive at odd hours. On several occasions, Garay drove Morales,Garcia, and other armed men to assassinate people. Sometimes he drove Roberto D’Aubuisson. On one occasion, D’Aubuisson gave Garay his gun to hold when he left the car to go to a meeting. Saravia often said that “the people from the church are the worst enemy.”

On the day of the assassination, as it was getting dark, Garay picked up Saravia at his home and drove to a house with a gate in an upper class neighborhood with two distinctive Maranon trees. Saravia came out of the house with a man. Garay had never seen him before. He had a beard and spoke Spanish with no accent, like a Salvadoran. Garay saw that the man had a long rifle with a telescopic lens. Saravia told Garay to drive a red Volkswagen with the man as a passenger in the back. Saravia told Garay to follow the man’s instructions about where to go. The man gave Garay driving instructions. A car followed them for their protection.

They came to a church. The shooter said, “I can’t believe I am going to kill a priest.” Garay followed his instructions to drive to the front door of the church, so that both he and the shooter were on the side of the car closest to the door. The shooter said to move forward until he was directly in front of the door. Garay looked into the church. He saw people celebrating mass, kneeling or sitting in the pews, and at the altar he saw a priest. Garay heard the priest talking. The shooter said, “Try to look like you’re fixing something in the car.” So Garay bent down to pretend to work on something. Garay heard a loud shot, and then a lot of screaming. The shooter said, “Calm down, relax, drive slowly to the exit . . . Go slow around and let’s get out of here.”

He drove out the gate and kept driving. He was not familiar with the area and was lost for an hour or more. There was a walkie-talkie in the car, and someone from the other car guided him so that eventually he returned to the house with the Maranon trees. He drove through the gate and the shooter got out of the car. Saravia was waiting. Saravia said, “You killed him. I heard it on the radio.”

Then Saravia, Garay, and Nelson Morales drove to Saravia’s house. Later, Garay drove Saravia to a meeting house in San Salvador. They drove through a big gate and along a long driveway until they came to a building. Roberto D’Aubuisson was there. Saravia went over to D’Aubuisson and said, “Mission accomplished.”

On another occasion, Garay was driving Saravia when they saw a burnt Volkswagen in a parking lot. Saravia said that that was the car Garay had used in the assassination.

Garay testified that a few months after the assassination he drove D’Aubuisson to a farm in the countryside. Later he learned this was called San Luis Finca (farm). At some point, two trucks and several jeeps with soldiers drove up, surrounded the place, and captured everyone. They put everyone – about 25 people – in a truck. No one fired a shot. The military brought them all to San Carlos barracks, where they all were held for about a week and then released.

Bishop Thomas Gumbleton of Detroit

Bishop Gumbleton has been one of the leading advocates for peace and disarmament in the U.S. and has spoken and written widely about Archbishop Romero. He founded Pax Christi in 1972 and served as its President until 1991. He co-authored the 1983 U.S. Conference of Catholic Bishops’ Pastoral Letter, “The Challenge of Peace.”

Bishop Gumbleton testified about the impact Archbishop Romero’s life and death had on the Salvadoran people and his own life and work. He testified that, although he had never met Archbishop Romero, he was inspired and transformed by his life: he was a “major influence on my thinking. I became committed to non-violence, love and spiritual development.”

Recalling an interview Romero gave two weeks prior to his assassination, Bishop Gumbleton said that he frequently relied on Romero’s homilies in his own teachings, especially in his outreach to inner-city youth.

Romero’s “teaching was clearly a teaching about how to overcome oppression, injustice and violence.” Romero said the Church should be a Church of the poor. “What does it mean to be poor in El Salvador? It means to be disappeared, tortured and killed.” Romero spoke out for the masses against the violence perpetrated by the military, and was not afraid to continue his criticisms, despite threats on his life. As he stated:

I do not believe in death without resurrection, so even if I am killed, I will rise again, I will be resurrected as the people of El Salvador. . . As a shepherd, I am obliged to give my life for those I love, including those who will kill me. If I am killed, tell the killers that I forgive them and bless them.

Bishop Gumbleton met Sister Dorothy Kazel in the summer of 1980 and corresponded often with her during what turned out to be the few remaining months of her life. She, along with Jeanne Donovan, Maura Clarke, and Ita Ford were killed by the Salvadoran military in December of that year. Bishop Gumbleton testified that the assassination was intended to send the message that if Romero could be killed with impunity, then anybody could be killed.

He went to El Salvador in the mid-eighties and observed “a continuing escalation of violence.” In one instance, he was held at a road block and armed U.S. soldiers were there and prevented him from going forward. This was a direct violation of U.S. law which prohibited armed U.S. soldiers from assuming anything other than an advisory role in El Salvador.

When asked if Romero’s work could have been continued by another, Gumbleton replied: “There wasn’t one single person who could take his place . . . he was the voice of the voiceless – no other person had that voice.” Not even seven people could replace Romero; neither the six Jesuit priests at the UCA nor the new but unconfirmed Archbishop of San Salvador were able to fill the void created by Romero’s death. Without Monsignor, the people of El Salvador were left voiceless.

When asked about Romero’s lasting theological impact, Gumbleton said that Romero “helped give a reality to the teaching. . . The joys and hopes, griefs and anxieties of the poor, should be the joys and hopes, griefs and anxieties of the Church.” These were not just words, but the way he lived his life.

The second day of testimony, August 25, included testimony from Ambassador Robert White, former US Ambassador to El Salvador, and Judge Atilio Amaya, the original investigating judge assigned to Archbishop Romero's case. Summaries of their testimonies follow.

Wednesday, August 25: Ambassador Robert White

Ambassador White testified via videotape deposition. White served as Ambassador to El Salvador from March 1980 to March 1981. He is currently President of the Center for International Policy in Washington, DC. He testified that during the period of the assassination of Archbishop Oscar Romero, he and his embassy staff, including intelligence personnel, closely monitored developments in El Salvador.

Ambassador White testified that Archbishop Romero was the most important leader speaking out against human rights violations in El Salvador and probably in all of Central America during the period leading up to his assassination. The Archbishop was “the voice of the voiceless” who used his pulpit and his radio station to communicate “the desires of the poor in what some considered a responsible, eloquent way [but] which the rich considered to be reckless.”

Ambassador White testified that the embassy had weekly reports called the “Grim Grams” because the situation in El Salvador was so replete with repressive violence. Young boys were being rounded up and summarily executed. He stated that the death squads were primarily operated by the military.

Ambassador White received the news of the assassination of Archbishop Romero while in a meeting with a small group of people that included members of the Salvadoran military. He observed the shock and sadness of some of those present, but also observed that those from the military showed no sign of surprise or outrage. This led Ambassador White to surmise that they had already been informed that the murder was to take place.

The Ambassador identified a report from a US political officer that cited a source who claimed to have participated in a meeting in which the assassination of the Archbishop was planned. According to the source, the meeting was led by Major D’Aubuisson. Ambassador White testified to his firm belief in the credibility of the report. He stated, “I have no doubt that Roberto D’Aubuisson was the man responsible for the planning and execution of the assassination of Archbishop Romero. I regard that as fact.”

Ambassador White testified that he had met both Roberto D’Aubuisson and the defendant, Alvaro Saravia, in person on several occasions, and that Saravia was “one of the principal lieutenants of D’Aubuisson.” The Ambassador testified that he obtained a diary belonging to Saravia that contained a written plan which he, and several experts in his embassy, concluded had to refer to the assassination of the Archbishop. The diary was given to the Ambassador by Colonel Majano, the only reform-minded member of the military in the ruling junta. It was obtained during a raid of the San Luis finca (or farm) in May 1980 to arrest suspected coup d’etat plotters that included D’Aubuisson and Saravia. Ambassador White stated that when Savaria was arrested during the raid, he was trying to eat the pages of his notebook, apparently out of concern that its contents would convict him. In the notebook, under the title, “Operation Piña” was a list of equipment typically used by a sharpshooter, including a rifle. The writing also included a meticulous accounting of monies spent on the “operation”. Ambassador White called this the outline of the plan to kill Romero.

Ambassador White stated that the US State Department had a significant amount of evidence linking the top command of the Salvadoran military to D’Aubuisson and his “clan.” He stated, “I have no doubt that the [high command] had full knowledge that D’Aubuisson was operating death squads. I have no doubt whatsoever that they approved of them and protected them.” He also stated his firm belief that the high command was involved in decisions regarding whom the death squads should target.

Ambassador White met with Archbishop Romero only a few days before the Archbishop’s assassination and was present when Archbishop Romero delivered his powerful homily on March 23 in which he called upon the soldiers to stop killing and implored them to disobey orders. This provoked anger and outrage, according to the Ambassador, that “served as a … rationale for … the military to come together and say, ‘Yes, we have to get rid of this man,’ and also served as a rationale for the rich to fund D’Aubuisson and his group.” He stated that he and others knew that the killing of Archbishop Romero was conducted “in the hope of provoking a mass reaction that would justify a crackdown involving large scale killing.”

Ambassador White explained, “Those who killed Archbishop Romero knew perfectly well what they were doing and what they would accomplish. They destroyed the one figure in El Salvador who could have served as a bridge, as a creative interpreter, between all the different sides.” He stated that the removal of the Archbishop by violence sent a strong signal that there would be no dialogue and that the rich of El Salvador and the military would not tolerate a movement towards democratic change. He testified:
I also have to say that the failure of the Salvadoran military to arrest, and keep under arrest, Roberto D’Aubuisson and Alvaro Saravia and their fellow conspirators, their failure to try them and convict them and put them into prison was another lesson to the Salvadoran people that impunity in El Salvador was alive and well, that there was no chance of getting justice from the system. And, therefore, the [killing of the] Archbishop not only [...] reinforced the image of a military that was a law unto itself, but also served as a recruiting tool for revolutionaries, because if you can kill an Archbishop, you know you can kill anybody. No one is sacred.

Ambassador White testified that no efforts were made in El Salvador to bring the killers of Archbishop Romero to justice. The Supreme Court judges, as he recalls, actually went out of their way to protect the groups charged with the murder. According to Ambassador White, justice is still weak in El Salvador. He said that no progress has been made toward any measure of justice or accountability for the crimes of the past. He stated, “I see that impunity and a concentration of economic power in the hands of a few is still what runs El Salvador.”

The Ambassador stressed the great importance of holding those responsible for the killing of Archbishop Romero accountable in a court of law in the U.S. This would serve both as an example of what a free democratic society can achieve by way of justice, and also as atonement because, as Ambassador White stated, “in many ways we encouraged this violence and certainly did very little to stop it.”

Judge Atilio Amaya

Judge Atilio Ramirez Amaya testified about his involvement in investigating the assassination of Archbishop Romero and the lack of availability of judicial remedies for human rights violations in El Salvador. He described the manner in which the National Police scuttled his investigation, attempted to kill him, and forced him to leave the country for ten years. He told Judge Wagner that Romero’s killers still enjoy total impunity in El Salvador. Through his testimony, Plaintiff’s counsel demonstrated that there is no possibility of bringing either a civil law suit or criminal prosecution against Romero’s killers in El Salvador.

Judge Amaya holds degrees from the University of Santiago de Compestela in Spain, the University of El Salvador, the University of Nicaragua in Managua, and the Institute of Penal Code Procedures in Mexico. He has served as a Justice of the Peace in San Salvador, a judge for the Fourth Criminal Court in San Salvador, and a Magistrate (the title given to the highest judges) of the Supreme Court of El Salvador. Amaya’s initial post at the Fourth Criminal Court lasted from 1979 to March 27, 1980.

Judge Amaya explained the procedure for investigating crimes and the significant role they played in criminal investigations. At that time, judges were involved from the very initial stages of violent crimes. Normally, the police would secure the scene of the crime, collect evidence and take photos and witness statements. The police were not permitted to remove evidence from the scene, and were required to turn over any evidence to the investigating judge. The only police agency investigating crimes in San Salvador was the National Police. The National Police worked on a country-wide level, operating under the jurisdiction of the Ministry of Defense.

In 1980, prosecutors did not have a decisive role in the investigations. In some cases, a Justice of the Peace would be in charge of the investigation. However, in high profile cases, such as the murder of a president or minister or the assassination Archbishop Romero, the judges of the Fourth Criminal Court would assume responsibility for the investigation. “I became involved because I was obligated by law to go, because Monseñor was a person who had a high ranking.”

Judge Amaya testified about the day of, and the days following, Romero’s assassination, his own involvement in the investigation, and the manner in which the National Police failed to conduct their part of the investigation.

On March 24, 1980 at 6:30 pm, he was at the National University when the National Police came by and sprayed the campus grounds with bullets. These shootings were not uncommon, and occurred during protests in order to disperse those who had gathered. After the shooting, people started to leave, at which point he heard someone cry, “Someone has killed Monseñor.” That is how he came to know of Romero’s death.

Amaya then went on to discuss his investigation and the manner in which the National Police flouted normal investigating procedures. They did not arrive at, or secure the scene of, the crime as they normally should have; they did not take fingerprints or the names of witnesses; and they did not provide security for the autopsy. The police should have surrounded the body where it was being kept to preserve and prevent any tampering with forensic evidence. Instead, nearly a hundred people surrounded Romero’s body. His body was not taken to the forensic clinic, where bodies are normally taken, but was taken to the hospital. Judge Amaya went first to the forensic clinic. By the time he arrived at the hospital, the autopsy had already begun.

A photo was then presented in the courtroom, depicting Romero’s body, surrounded by nearly a hundred people, including the forensic doctor and Florentin Melendez, one of the Archdiocese’s lawyers from Socorro Juridicio.

Amaya continued: “The police were not present. They should have been there for security reasons. When I arrived I asked my secretary to call the police because there were too many people there to work. I had to make people leave the room.”

X-rays were taken to detect the bullet. After several x-rays, three bullet fragments were found inside his chest. His chest was then opened. Coagulated blood gushed out, but the bullet fragments could not be found. After dissolving the blood clots, the fragments were discovered.
The police had still not arrived.

Upon counsel’s offer, Judge Wanger admitted into evidence the autopsy report from that night, signed by Judge Amaya and the doctors who performed the autopsy. The report stated that the cause of death had been hemorrhaging caused by the severing of major veins and arteries surrounding the heart.

He asked his secretary to call the police so that they could accompany him to the scene of the crime- the Divine Providence Chapel. However, since the police never arrived, he traveled to the church with his secretary. He went through the church looking for evidence, especially for the bullet shells, but found none. He kept the x-rays and bullet fragments recovered from the autopsy, since the police never showed up to collect them, which he noted was extraordinarily irregular.

When he went to work the next day, he again told his secretary to call the police so that they could decide how best to coordinate the investigation. The police asked him to send the evidence that he collected. He refused to send the evidence, but spoke to the police technician. Upset at Amaya’s refusal, he asked: “Don’t you trust the police?” Amaya responded “Indeed, I do not trust the police.” He went on to say that if they wanted to conduct an investigation, they would have to bring over their equipment and perform the analysis in front of him.

The day after the assassination, Colonel Majano announced in a televised press conference that the assassins of Monseñor Romero would be immediately identified by INTERPOL, and the names would be sent over to the judge of the Fourth Criminal Court, Judge Amaya, for immediate prosecution. Amaya was at home during this broadcast. Almost immediately thereafter, he received his first death threat. Over the course of the next few days, he received numerous death threats. On one occasion, his twelve year old daughter answered the phone. The voice asked her “what is your favorite color. That is the color we will paint the coffin that we will put your father in.”

Amaya then testified regarding the attempts on his life. On the night of March 27, just three days after the assassination, he received a knock on the door of his home. His housekeeper opened the door. Two young men pushed their way inside, one carrying a brief case. Peering from behind his bedroom door holding a shotgun, Judge Amaya observed the men. Since he did not recognize them, he called out to them to be seated. Instead, one of them pulled out an automatic weapon from the case. In fear, Judge Amaya’s housekeeper ran towards him. Aiming to kill him, they shot her in the back, and she fell to the ground.

The men then ran out the door, spraying the house and car with bullets as they fled. Moments later, he heard footsteps on his roof. Wherever he heard footsteps, he shot out the window towards the roof. He threw a mattress over his daughter and gave a pistol to his wife so that she could also fire in the direction of the sounds. Eventually, the footsteps ceased, and after ten minutes of dead silence, the phone rang. Amaya picked up the phone and recognized the voice of an acquaintance from the National Police, whom he had known since he was a child. He said, “Doctor, you’re alive?!” Judge Amaya said “Yes, and I am glad to be alive.” The policeman continued, “Don’t worry, perhaps they were just trying to scare you”. Judge Amaya called his family friends and they soon began to arrive. The night watchman in his neighborhood informed him that two marked police cars were parked just outside the main gate and didn’t move throughout the shooting. The boyfriend of a neighbor, who had witnessed the attack, told him that there were in fact three men who participated in the shooting: the two who entered the house and a third who remained in the get-away car. The boyfriend said that he was a member of the Nation Police and recognized the driver to also be a member.

Amaya testified that “The attempt on my life was never investigated. . . . Two detectives did come by. After asking what happened, they said, ‘These guys are just amateurs. Don’t worry, if we had come in, everything would have been done in five minutes.’ That was the extent of their investigation.” After this experience, Amaya said to his wife, “We have to leave the country or they will kill me.” He fled to Nicaragua by boat and did not return for nearly ten years.

Judge Wanger then questioned Judge Amaya about the legal requirements necessary for a civil suit for wrongful death to proceed at that time, and whether he thought it would be possible to bring a civil or criminal cases against those involved in Romero’s assassination.

Judge Amaya stated that a civil action for wrongful death was not then and is still not possible without first obtaining a criminal conviction of the accused. However, since nobody dared, then or now, to bring criminal charges against those involved in the assassination of Monseñor Romero, no civil law suit for wrongful death could go forward.

Amaya emphasized that no minister or members of the ruling ARENA party have ever been prosecuted for their crimes. Many of the memers of the military most responsible for the violence in El Salvador simply went on to join the political party ARENA, which was founded by D’Aubuisson, one of the conspirators in the assassination of Romero. He added that "since 1988, up and to the present time, this ARENA party... has been in power". Thus, if a district attorney or a private accuser wanted to initiate a prosecution today, they would have to name some of those in power and risk reprisal. Moreover, in 1992, the ARENA government passed an amnesty law shielding its members from crimes committed during the conflict, which is still in force today.

On Thursday morning, Father Cortina testified, followed by Maria Julia Hernandez. Summaries of their testimony follow. Prof. Terry Karl testified in the afternoon, and also on Friday afternoon. She will conclude her testimony on September 3rd, and we will post a summary of her testimony thereafter.

Father Jon Cortina

Father Cortina is a Jesuit priest and the director of Pro Busqueda, an organization that helps reunify families torn apart by the Salvadoran civil war, especially those whose children were kidnapped by the military and put up for adoption, often for money. He lives in the residence of the Central American University (UCA) in San Salvador, run by the Jesuits. He was born in Bilbao, Spain and was sent by the Jesuits to El Salvador in 1955. He has degrees in philosophy, the humanities and engineering. He helped poor communities build bridges and housing developments.

Fr. Cortina testified that the Jesuit priests received letters in 1976 threatening them with death if they did not leave the country within a month: “They said we would be military targets, our house would be a military target, and to scare the possible ones that could give us shelter, they said that the houses of all those who gave us shelter would also be military targets.” When the Judge asked whom he meant by “them,” he replied: “The death squads, the White Warrior Union.” At that time, there were a total of 25 Jesuits in El Salvador. The Jesuits conferred and all but one of them decided to stay.

Cortina recalled the first time he met Oscar Romero, at a meeting on March 9, 1977, two weeks or so after he had been appointed Archbishop of El Salvador. The clergy and sisters had been called together to discuss the persecution of Church members. Father Rutilio Grande, one of the first proponents of liberation theology in El Salvador, was at the meeting. He said to Romero, “Monsenor I have many sheep that live up in the hills. I have sent them up to the hills so that they can be all right, so if you say that there is no persecution, I am going to call them down to the valley.” And Romero said, “Well, no, no, it is better that they stay up in the hills, that they stay hidden.” In this way, Romero acknowledged that persecution existed.

Fr. Cortina worked in Aguilares, the same community in which Fr. Grande had worked. There were several large haciendas in the area, but all the inhabitants of the town of Aguilares and the surrounding rural area were very poor. Salaries were low, and when the campesinos tried to organize for better wages, they were violently repressed. Father Grande helped the campesinos revitalize FECCAS, the Federation of Christian Campesinos. ORDEN, the paramilitary organization that worked with the government security forces, responded with brutal persecution.. On March 12, 1977, Fr. Grande was murdered. Thereafter, Fr. Cortina and others connected with the church had to sleep in the fields because it was too dangerous to sleep in their homes.

Until the death of Father Grande, Romero had been regarded as a moderate conservative.. But after that killing, as Father Cortina said, “[M]aybe the Holy Spirit had different plans [for Romero], and Romero became an extraordinary man”. Rutilio Grande and Oscar Romero had been good friends; Fr. Grande had been the master of ceremonies at Romero’s episcopal ordination. Romero knew that Grande was not a communist, as the hardliners claimed. The killing of Rutilio Grande caused Romero to wonder how many other priests might have been unfairly labeled. Romero began to investigate. He set up a Human Rights Office within the Archdiocese, and he began to regularly visit rural parishes so as to better understand the violence and the experience of the campesinos.

Romero learned a great deal from the peasants. As Cortina observed, “I think that is what really impacted him: the example, the teaching, the life, the faith, the hope of the poor, and that changed Romero.” Romero came to Aguilares the week before he was murdered to celebrate mass. Cortina testified that, “to the poor [Romero] was a holy man, and … for every one of us who knew him, he was a holy man.” Cortina related that Archbishop Romero’s homilies “were a theology class for me because he took the main ideas of the Gospel and brought them to life. … Everyone in El Salvador listened to his homilies.” Cortina illustrated this point with an anecdote. One day he was stopped at a traffic light in his car, listening to the Archbishop’s homily on the radio. A police car drove toward him, and he instinctively turned down the radio to avoid any trouble. When the police pulled up beside him, he could hear that they too were listening to the homily.

Cortina emphasized Romero’s dedication to his people. He recalled the first time campesinos occupied the church. Fr. Cortina and three nuns went to Archbishop Romero to ask what he thought they should do, stay away from the church or be with the people. Romero answered, “I think the most Christian thing is to accompany the people.” So Fr. Cortina returned to Aguilares to be with the people.

Furthermore, Romero refused the riches that usually accompany his position because he did not want what his people did not have. As the threats to his life increased, he was offered security guards and bullet proof vests. Cortina recounted that Romero responded by saying “As long as my people do not have security, I cannot have security. If my people are unsafe, I want to live like my people.” Romero rejected the offer to build him a palatial home and instead lived in a small house at a hospital for dying cancer patients, the same hospital in whose chapel he was assassinated.

When asked whether Archbishop Romero was political, Cortina said, “All of us, when we talk, no matter whether we say A or B, our speech has political components.” He accused the government of carrying out injustices but he also criticized the popular organizations “when they went too far with their ideas.” But for Romero, this was because “he was ethically-minded, not political. … To tell the truth hurts and he told the truth. That’s what the campesinos said, he told the truth, no matter what.”

Cortina also described Romero’s humility. For instance, although initially Romero had criticized Father Jon Sobrino, one of the leading proponents of liberation theology in El Salvador for “presenting Jesus too much as a man,” Romero later apologized to him.

Father Cortina described how he was at the University when he learned of Archbishop Romero’s assassination. The phone rang. “Something awful has happened,” Father Sobrino said. “Come fast.” When he learned that Romero had been killed, he felt a tremendous emptiness: “You get all of sudden like, without knowing anything, without seeing anything, without feeling anything, you feel as if you are in an empty space.” Fr Cortina reiterated what other witnesses had said: “If they could do this to him, then they could do it to anybody.” He worried that there would be more killings and that there would be no one to take care of the people; that the church would falter.

Fr. Cortina soon found out that a photographer had been at the chapel and had immediately started taking pictures. Initially the photographer was suspected of carrying out the assassination and had been taken prisoner by some of the patients at the hospital. As Cortina had some experience with photography, he went to the chapel to examine the cameras that had been confiscated from the photographer. He determined that the cameras could not have been used in any way in the murder. He then went with the photographer to the offices of the newspaper, Diario de Hoy, where the photographer worked, to develop the photos. Many of the photographs, including dramatic and searing images of Archbishop Romero’s fallen body and the pained faces of the attending nuns, were displayed in court.

Over 100,000 people attended Romero’s funeral in the square in front of the Cathedral and National Palace. Cortina identified a photograph of the gathering. He then recounted that bombs were thrown from the direction of the National Palace and that some people were trampled to death while trying to flee. In response to a question from Judge Wanger, Father Cortina replied that he thought the bomb was probably homemade.

The assassination had a tremendous, depressing impact throughout the country. The campesinos asked, “Who will speak up for truth now?” Romero’s body was on display in the National Cathedral for six days. Each day a different community was in charge of helping out there. One peasant said he had walked for three days to see the Archbishop. He told Fr. Cortina “Don’t be afraid of those who kill the body. Continue your work.” Fr. Cortina was deeply moved by the courage he derived from the people.

Maria Julia Hernandez

Maria Julia Hernandez is the founding director of Tutela Legal, the legal assistance office of the Archdiocese of San Salvador, established in March 1982. She worked very closely with Archbishop Romero during his three years as Archbishop from 1977-1980. Under Ms. Hernandez’s leadership, Tutela Legal has been a leading force for human rights in El Salvador and has continued to carry on the vision of Archbishop Romero. Prior to founding Tutela Legal, Ms. Hernandez taught philosophy and law at the University of Central American (UCA) in San Salvador.

Tutela Legal defends and promotes the full range of human rights – civil, political, economic, social and cultural. The office investigates and documents cases of violations regardless of who commits them. If the office found that the violations were committed by the military or the death squads, they presented their demands to the military authorities. In one situation, her office filed a complaint against the FMLN in Mexico for violation of its obligations under the Second Protocol to the Geneva Conventions of 1949. Her office filed in Mexico because the FMLN had an office in Mexico, whereas it operated clandestinely in El Salvador.

In addition, Tutela Legal reported its findings to the courts of El Salvador. Unfortunately, according to Ms. Hernandez, “the judges didn’t do anything about our cases. [Going to] the Supreme Court did not work. Habeas corpus did not work.” Ms. Hernandez stated that between 1982 and 1992, her office presented 24,000 complaints of human rights violations to the courts. All were well documented. The only one that was ever investigated concerned the murder of the six Jesuit priests. Colonel Benavides was finally put in jail for that crime, but then, on March 20, 1993, even before the Amnesty law was officially published, the military released him.

Ms. Hernandez then described the conditions surrounding the Amnesty law. The Peace Accord stated that the findings from the UN Truth Commission Report would be brought before the tribunals to administer justice. Five days after the Truth Commission Report was issued, however, the National Assembly, with an ARENA majority, enacted an amnesty law protecting perpetrators of crimes committed during the conflict.

Ms. Hernandez described her close working relationship with Archbishop Romero. In the late 1970s, while she taught philosophy at the UCA Law School, she volunteered all of her free time to work in his office. When helping out with secretarial work, she came across many death threats. The one she remembers most vividly was a white handprint on a dark piece of paper, which at that time meant “leave or you will be killed.”

Most of the correspondence was from people asking for the Archbishop’s homilies. One day Ms. Hernandez asked Romero to publish his homilies but he refused. After showing him the requests she said, “Monsignor, it is not me who is asking for the homilies, the people want your homilies” and for the first time she saw him shaken. Two weeks later, he agreed.

Hernandez testified that in 1982, when she started the Legal Aid Office, the office did not have the capacity to present a case on Romero’s assassination to the court. With so many cases of human rights abuses and people in jail, it was impossible to manage that big a case. She asked two criminal lawyers to take on the case, but both refused out of fear.
She did not approach any more lawyers in the following years because “no lawyers would accept, even now.” Moreover, after the Amnesty law was passed in March 1993, it would have been futile to try.

Florentín Melendez, a lawyer with Socorro Juridico, the Human Rights Office of the Archdiocese and the predecessor of Tutela Legal, tried to investigate the assassination but he and the office’s director, Roberto Cuellar, were threatened with death. Immediately after the funeral they went into hiding and soon thereafter, fled the country. Socorro Juridico kept files on Romero’s assassination, but two months after the killing, members of the National Police searched the Socorro Juridico office and seized all of the files.

Ms. Hernandez eventually filed a complaint on behalf of family members of Archbishop Romero with the Inter-American Commission on Human Rights of the Organization of American States. Finally in 1999, the Commission condemned the Government of El Salvador for failing to investigate the crime. Citing the Truth Commission’s conclusion that Robert D’Aubuisson had ordered Alvaro Saravia to organize the assassination, the Commission called on the Government to investigate the murder. El Salvador’s President Flores, a member of the ARENA party, refused.

Ms. Hernandez then identified pictures from the scene of the crime. She described how a photographer near the back of the chapel stood up as soon as he heard the shot and started taking pictures. The first photo taken was of the chapel filled with people, but the second one of the chapel was empty. She explained that at that point everyone had ducked down on the ground.

Next she identified several gruesome photographs as typical of scenes of summary executions documented by Tutela Legal during the 1980s. After describing the means by which people were generally assassinated, Hernandez added that the violations increased after Romero’s death. 1980 through 1984 were known as the “years of terror” during which hundreds of laypeople were killed in large-scale massacres.

While official figures state that there were 85,000 victims during the conflict, Ms. Hernandez stated that the number was probably double that figure because the majority were not recorded. Since the government refused to build a memorial, Tutela Legal commissioned a wall memorializing many of those killed, including Archbishop Romero. It currently stands in Cuscatlan park and serves as a place to put flowers and remember victims.

Ms. Hernandez noted that a Canonization Office has been established in the Archdiocese to request that Archbishop Romero be declared a saint. The office collected all of his records and writings and now maintains them in its archives. Prior to this trial, Ms. Hernandez made copies of numerous documents to give to the legal team. She noted that, “in evaluating the evidence for Canonization, the Vatican examines three things: the candidate’s theology; who killed him and why; and what the people say. Perhaps this trial will help establish facts that will assist in the Canonization process.”

During the morning of the fourth day of trial, Esther Chavez, Francisco Acosta, and Fr. Walter Guerra testified about their work in El Salvador on behalf of the needy, the persecution faced by their families and colleagues, the lasting impact of Archbishop Romero on their lives and communities, and the impact of his assassination.

Esther Chavez

Esther Chavez was born in San Salvador, the eldest of eight brothers and sisters. She went to school at the Colegio Asuncion, and in 1978, she worked there as a librarian. She was also studying at the National University, but, due to the closing of the university, she could not complete her education.

Chavez commented on changes in the Catholic Church. When she was a young person, mass was in Latin. After Vatican II , Spanish became the language of the mass. Lay people could participate and become more involved. The meeting in Medellin in 1968, when the Conference of Bishops adopted a declaration regarding liberation theology, was also significant.

Chavez stated that she participated in one of the Christian base communities in her neighborhood. These communities sprang up in the countryside and in poor neighborhoods in the cities. The base communities implemented these changes in church doctrine and affirmed the philosophy of Medellin.

Since there was an insufficient number of priests for all the parishes, lay people were directly involved in conducting and practicing some of the Catholic rituals. In addition, the Christian base communities were dedicated to assisting the people in the communities with their social needs. As Chavez was one of the few people in her community who had an education, she would help community members read documents or draft letters for them. One of her mentors in this pastoral work was Sister Ines, a Spanish nun..

When the Catholic radio station was bombed and Archbishop Romero’s homilies could not be broadcast, Chavez was asked to transcribe one of them for distribution. As she transcribed the audiotape, she felt like she was listening directly to him, “just me and him.” She felt the power of his words very strongly, and she felt inspired to contribute in any way that she could.

Sister Ines was sent back to Spain; Chavez suspected this was because she supported the ideas of liberation theology. Chavez complained to the head of her school, and she was fired from her job. She felt a sense of loss and sought counsel from Monsenor Romero. He was very open and humble. She asked him what she should do. She told him about her work with the base communities. He suggested that she go back to Morazon and survey the community to see what they needed. She did so with her brother, and they discovered that many women needed day care. There were many single mothers, and other women would help them by taking care of their children. So in January 1979, she, her brother and a friend started a day care center. Monsenor Romero came to the day care center to express his support for her work.

A law was passed prohibiting meetings. Thereafter, the base community could no longer meet at the school but instead had to meet in people’s homes. They discussed the problems of their daily life – the killings, the persecution – and what they as Christians should be doing.

In August 1980, the Popular Movement called for a national strike. Parents and staff decided it would not be safe for the day care center to be open during the national strike, so the building was empty. Two men took refuge in the day care building when it was empty. They carried weapons and shot at a helicopter from the building. They were killed. Four other men also were killed on the land of Chavez’s family.

Shortly thereafter, the Treasury Police came to the day care center asking for the owner. Chavez’s father said that he was the owner, in order to protect Chavez. The Treasury Police arrested him and took him to their headquarters. They wanted to know where Chavez was. They said that Chavez was teaching children to be guerrillas because she was working with Monsenor Romero. Her father eventually was released because the family was able to pay for a lawyer, and they knew Bishop Rivera y Damas who also helped.

The day her father was released, Chavez had to leave her children and go into hiding. In October 1980, she fled to Guatemala and then to the U.S. She didn’t want to leave; she felt that she was betraying her community because she could afford to leave and others could not. She finally got her children out. She hoped she could return in two years but she could not return. She applied for asylum but was denied. She finally obtained permanent residency.

In the U.S., Chavez has worked to end U.S. military aid to El Salvador. She has worked to establish sister city relationships between U.S. cities and Salvadoran towns. She currently works for the American Friends Service Committee, a Quaker organization, as a community organizer in the immigrant community.

Regarding the impact of Monsenor Romero on her own life, Chavez stated that it was an “honor and responsibility to know Monsenor Romero because he taught that we should work with those who have no voice and those who fight injustice. Every year I have a service to commemorate his death. This is a responsibility that I try to keep and I try to help those in need and keep his legacy alive.”

Concerning Saravia, she is angry that he is in the United States. She considers it a major injustice that Salvadoran families are divided because some cannot achieve legal status in the U.S. and yet someone like him, who committed such a terrible crime, is allowed to live here.

Dr. Francisco Acosta Arevalo

Friday morning, Dr. Francisco Acosta Arevalo testified about the persecution of his family, the steps Monsignor Romero took to save his life and the life of his brother Jorge, and the Archbishop Romero University that Dr. Acosta helped establish to honor the Monsignor’s legacy.

Dr. Acosta testified that he was born on the slopes of the Guazapa Volcano, in the municipality of Suchitoto in northern El Salvador. Guazapa was a community of poor campesinos and farmers, and his family, made up 14 brothers and sisters, was Catholic. Twenty-eight haciendas, big farms, on the other side of the slope were owned by a few rich families, most of whom were connected with the military. Life was difficult, and he had to work hard to buy his first pair of shoes at the age of fourteen. Dr. Acosta was sent to attend the Catholic seminary in San Vicente. After that, he moved to the capital of San Salvador until he was forced to flee his country. He has been living in Maryland for the past six years.

Dr. Acosta joined the seminary with the goal of becoming a priest. Initially, he had a “[s]trong feeling to become a priest because . . . I saw how welcome in the community the priests were. My sister is a nun and she encouraged me to go to the seminary.”

During his time in the seminary in San Vicente, he had as a professor Father Rafael Palacios who become his mentor. Palacios went to Chile and Argentina and he explained to Dr. Acosta that a different kind of society was possible. Death quads killed Father Palacios some years later.

In 1969, the Asociación Nacional de Maestros Salvadoreños (ANDES)/National Association of Salvadoran Teachers led a big strike. Among the strikers were some teachers from the seminary Dr. Acosta attended who were protesting the abuses they had suffered at the hands of the paramilitary forces, called Organizacion Democratica Nacionalista (ORDEN)/National Democratic Organization. Many of his own teachers were involved in the strike, and he knew their grievances were legitimate. Dr. Acosta participated in the strike, and it caused some tensions between the seminary’s authorities and himself. His bishop and the Church did not come out in support of the teachers; instead they spoke against the strike. This, in addition to other contradictions between the Church’s teachings and its practices, led him to leave the seminary.

Dr. Acosta then enrolled at the Central American University (UCA), so that he could work with the Jesuits there. He was provided a scholarship that allowed him to study sociology. Dr. Acosta testified: “One day I met with Father Ignacio Martin Baro, a prominent professor at the UCA, and I thanked him for the scholarship I had been given. Father Martin Baro told me, ‘you do not have to thank me. Your parents, your grandparents, all your ancestors already paid for your scholarship.’ I thought that was so true – you see my mother is an Indian.”

Dr. Acosta helped to establish the Fundación Salvadoreña de Vivienda Mínima/Salvadoran Foundation for Minimum Housing, which worked to provide homes for the poor. The Foundation was formed after a terrible hurricane had destroyed many homes, and he and others from the UCA volunteered to help build new houses for those who had been left homeless. He worked there for eleven years, during which time the Foundation organized people to build approximately 15,000 homes. Monsignor Romero visited one project of 600 homes in Soyapango. Romero held mass for the people who were participating in the project, and afterwards joined Dr. Acosta at the same table for lunch. Dr. Acosta said, “He struck me as a very humble person . . . somebody with authority sharing food with us. . . that was life-changing for me.”

Dr. Acosta then recounted Romero’s transformation after the murder of Father Rutilio Grande. For some time, Dr. Acosta went to work in Aguilares with Father Enrique Sanchez and later with Father Rutilio Grande. Among his assignments was to bring communion to some 200 peasants in El Paisnal, Fr. Grande’s hometown.

“[T]he killing of Rutilio Grande, who was a friend of Romero, a man of faith, a man of integrity, started to change Bishop Romero quickly.”

Dr. Acosta recalled how, after Fr. Grande’s death, Romero called on the Carter Administration, in one of his homilies broadcast on radio, to stop sending weapons to El Salvador. Dr. Acosta listened with his community of 450 families as they worked on the houses. When Romero called on the Carter Administration to stop sending weapons because they were being used to kill the brothers and sisters of El Salvador, everyone stopped working and started to applaud. “Oh my goodness. I really remember that. How I had the feeling that there was no other voice than Bishop Romero.”

Acosta then narrated the persecution of his family and Romero’s personal assistance to him.

His 13-year-old niece, Yanira Caceres Arevalo, had gone to the store in Suchitoto to buy school supplies, and also picked up several copies of Orientacion, the official Catholic newspaper. This newspaper, as well as the Catholic radio station YSAX, were the only sources of reliable information because the government had almost total control of the media . The National Police stopped Yanira. They took her to police headquarters in Suchitoto and detained her. His grandmother, Feliciana Alvarez de Arevalo, went to get her, and she also was detained.

The next day, both his niece and grandmother were released. They were told: “Go home, you have a lot of work to do there.” When they reached home, they found that his two aunts, Angelina Antonia Arevalo and Teresa de Jesus Arevalo, had been killed. They had been shot and chopped to pieces with a machete.

Later, men in civilian clothes picked up one of his cousins, Elias Acosta Rivera, who was a labor organizer for the Federacion Cristiana de Campesinos Salvadorenos/Christian Federation of Salvadoran Peasants. Two days later his body was found by dogs. His tongue had been cut out. Dr. Acosta also recalled how a cousin, Geremias Melgar, and his nephew Otsmaro Acosta Rivera, were gunned down two kilometers away from his parent’s house. His father, Pedro Acosta Melgar, found them, and buried them in the local chapel because it was extremely dangerous to bring them to the cemetery in Suchitoto. “I can tell you more and more stories like these,” said Dr. Acosta.

He then recounted the attempted murder of his brother and the murder of another one of his nephews. In February of 1980, he heard Major Roberto D’Aubuisson say on television that Acosta’s brother, Jorge Alberto Acosta, was one of the most influential subversives in northern El Salvador. “[O]nce Roberto D’Aubuisson said something, something would happen for sure.” Three days later, around 4 o’clock in the morning, more than 20 gunmen surrounded his brother’s house on the Guazapa Volcano and opened fire. Seven M-16 shells were picked up by the family. Luckily, neither his brother nor his brother’s family were killed or injured.

Dr. Acosta said he then sought help to get his brother to a safe place. But everyone was too afraid to help, afraid that the security forces would come after them. That week Mario Zamora Rivas, the Attorney General of El Salvador, was killed and every body was afraid. So Dr. Acosta went to Bishop Romero. Msr. Romero said: “Look, I understand. Leave him here at the seminary. . . We will take care of him and your cousin Otsmaro Caceres will help.” His brother was sheltered in the seminary for three weeks, and was then able to make his way to the Mexican Embassy where he could request political asylum. His request was granted and he made it safely to Mexico.

Otsmaro Caceres Arevalo, who was a seminarian, was celebrating his first mass when the death squads came for him. They shot 12 people along with Otsmaro. Dr. Acosta testified: “It was [recently] decided that the name of the school in his community should be changed to his name. I am really proud of that kind of thing happening. The terrible irony is that I spoke with my brother Jorge two days ago, who continues to organize people in El Salvador, while Monsignor Romero and my cousin Otsmaro are not alive.”

Dr. Acosta then spoke about the days before Romero’s assassination:
I saw Bishop Romero three days before he was killed. . . at 10 o’clock at night driving by himself. I thought to myself, how can this man, who has a death threat, be driving by himself at 10 o’clock in the evening? Sure enough, he was killed three days later.

Dr. Acosta was in classes at the University of Central America when he found out that Romero had been killed. “We were in class when my classmate and member of the Human Rights Commission, Patricia Cuellar, said “Monsignor Romero has just been killed”. Everybody in the class was in shock and in twenty minutes, the whole University was empty. “And my feeling at the time [was] ‘oh my goodness, my goodness. If someone like him can be killed, the rest of us, we are like chickens.’”

Dr. Acosta then described the chaos of Romero’s funeral. He saw people trampled underneath the masses, including many elderly people. He recalled his feeling of total helplessness -- that there was nothing he could do to help those who had been trapped under one another. His brother Amadeo’s daughter, Evelyn, who was only thirteen, got lost in this bedlam. They found her two days later.

Dr. Acosta then recounted his decision to leave El Salvador, what he did while he was abroad, and upon his return.

Dr. Acosta’s neighbor had warned him not to sleep at his house, that it would be too dangerous for him. So he began sleeping in different places, even under the bushes on a coffee plantation. After days of this, he returned to his house and found that it had been broken into. When the intruders did not find him, they had gone next door. Six of his neighbors were killed.

At that point, he said he had to decide whether to continue working with the poor, to join the guerrillas and take up arms, or to flee his country. He knew he could no longer continue doing what he had been doing because it was not safe. But he was morally opposed to killing another human being. His father had always taught him to resolve conflicts peacefully, and he felt that “two wrongs do not make a right.” So he decided he would have to leave his country. He made his way to Mexico and eventually to Canada and then to the United States. When he returned to El Salvador 10 years later, he found that five of his former professors, Jesuit priests, had been killed. Father Segundo Montes, who had agreed to safe-keep his books and records while he was gone, had also been killed.

After he left El Salvador, he did extensive public speaking in Mexico, Canada and the United States to educate the public about human rights violations in El Salvador. While he was in the United States, he was asked by several members of Congress and the State Department to serve as a liaison between the Salvadoran Embassy, the military attaché, and the FMLN in order to facilitate negotiations to end the civil war. Acosta was able to bring the parties together to begin a dialogue. This process ultimately led to the UN-brokered Peace Accords two years later.

In 1990, he decided to return to El Salvador with his U.S.-born wife, Barbara Dole Acosta, and his children. He wanted to do something to honor Romero’s memory. They decided to create a new university in his name. They raised some money and, in 1992, taking advantage of the mood created by the Peace Accords, the Archbishop Romero University was formally recognized as a legal entity. The University, located in La Aldeita in Chalatenango Province, initiated classes in 1994 and now has almost 800 students and 52 professors. The university has graduated over 160 new professionals. Dr. Acosta testified that this University is part of the realization of Romero’s vision, when the Archbishop said, “If they kill me, I will rise again in the Salvadoran people.”

Dr. Acosta was then asked what meaning this trial had for him. He answered: “I am really pleased to be able to be in this chair . . . in front of a judge. Because this is a strong effort against impunity.”

Recalling that he lost 72 family members during the 12 years of the civil war, Dr. Acosta went on to say that names that had never been mentioned in the Truth Commission process were mentioned in this trial; names that had been buried have now been recovered and recorded for history. “I think that that after justice is done, I will be able to forgive but not forget, and it is time to move on. I think that giving this testimony before a federal judge and before all of you here in Fresno, California, provides a sense of closure for me to my family and for the Salvadoran Society. Thank you so much.”

Testimony of Father Walter Guerra

Walter Guerra, a Catholic priest for 35 years and a close colleague of Archbishop Romero, testified about the violent oppression suffered by the people of El Salvador, his own persecution, and the vital role Romero played in negotiating and solving conflicts between workers and the large land-owners.

Father Guerra became a priest in 1969. Besides his devotion to his parish, Guerra is involved in several non-profit organizations, including one that is dedicated to eradicating malnutrition among children and providing nutritional education, and one that provides academic scholarships. Through these organizations, Guerra has helped feed and educate thousands of children.

Guerra first met Romero in 1962 when he was in seminary school in Armenia, a town located in the western province of Sonsanate, El Salvador. He was appointed Armenia’s parish priest in February 1977, the same month that Romero was anointed Archbishop. . Guerra recalled:

Repression in Sonsanate was terrible. Armenia was one of the towns most beaten by the oppression. The goal of the repression was to eliminate all opposition of the government. It was not possible to have any organization or gathering. Only religious functions, like holy mass, were allowed. Any other activity was dangerous and suspicious according to the military. As such, all the youth, teachers and farmers were targets. In three years, over 500 people were killed. I saw many of my parishioners brutally killed.

Guerra recounted the killing of his best friend:

My best friend was killed in front of my parish house. At 2 a.m they blew Jorge apart with bullets, and also shot his mother who tried to help him. They left her there bleeding to die. There was nothing we could do. Nevertheless, at 4 a.m., I ventured outside, took Jorge’s body and cleaned off the blood. Then I took his mother to the hospital. Many others also were killed, and I also presided at their funerals.

Guerra continued his memories of life under these conditions:

During the last few months of the life of Monsenor Romero, we all slept with our clothes on, in case we needed to flee at a moment’s notice. . . It was common to see bodies on the street. I myself had to pick up six young men. The National Guard and death squads had arranged their bodies in order of their size and left them along the highway leading to San Salvador, so that all who passed could see.

Guerra then testified about the time when he was detained for one day. He was accompanying the mayor to his office. The mayor was supposed to sign a document permitting a celebration. While Guerra was walking next to him, a female guerrilla fired into the mayor’s back, and he died on the way to the hospital.

The National Guard picked Fr. Guerra up in front of the mayor’s office. They accused him of conspiring with the guerrilla in the mayor’s murder. They tied his fingers behind his back with plastic binding for 12 hours. “My fingers got so swollen, that I couldn’t undo my belt.” Eight other prisoners were also in his cell. One said, “Father, don’t worry, we will defend you.” Another prisoner gave him his bed- a piece of cardboard. They warned, “If there is a noise, don’t move, we will investigate it.”

The townspeople surrounded the place where Guerra was being detained, to prevent his removal and clandestine execution. They “started sending cookies and other refreshments.” There was “great solidarity.” He invited the other prisoners to join him and they “gathered together at 6 p.m., we all ate together and prayed.”

Fr. Guerra’s family and Archbishop Romero sent attorneys. The lower court received his statement, and the attorneys explained that there was no basis to for his detention. The court agreed and ordered his release. Romero was in Rome at the time, but had phoned Socorro Juridico, the human rights office of the Archdiocese, and told them to send a lawyer to aid Guerra. They sent Roberto Cuellar, the director of the office.

Fr. Guerra discussed other dealings he had with Romero and the important role Romero played beyond his position in the Church.

Although Fr. Guerra’s parish was not a part of Romero’s diocese, Romero trusted Guerra because “I was a teacher at the seminary and at the UCA [University of Central America in San Salvador].” They would have monthly meetings with all the priests so that they could consider the country’s situation and come up with ways to address the situation. Monsenor Romero attended the meetings and actively participated.

Romero also invited Fr. Guerra to accompany him on strike negotiations. Guerra recalled a few of these labor disputes. In June 1968 there was a dispute between the Mesa family-owned brewing company and its workers. The Mesas had agreed to have Romero as the negotiator because he was trusted. He would first speak to the workers, then the administration and then bring the two sides together. “He would come up with proposals that were very doable. He was very friendly with the administration, so they could see, feel the condition of the workers, and so he could get concessions.”

In another situation, Romero negotiated a dispute between bus operators and their owners. The operators were demanding higher wages. The owners said they could not afford to pay better wages. The buses, which were very old, required constant repair, and so no money was available for wages. Romero’s solution was to help the bus owners get a loan. With the loan, they were able to acquire better buses, and could then pay the operators better wages.

Guerra also worked with Romero on writing pastoral letters. Once of the most meaningful explained that faith and politics were not inimical to each other, but rather that Christians have the right to get involved in politics and organize. This subject of the paper was decisive for Christians in El Salvador at the time.
During Romero’s last two years of life, Guerra also attended the weekly meetings to help prepare the weekly homilies. “We would meet in San Salvador and work from 7:30 a.m. – 11:00 a.m.” Romero would listen to the different reports from the various consultants on political, financial, social, pastoral and human rights issues. From these reports, he would write the homilies. “He wrote them himself -- he typed quite well,” explained Fr. Guerra.

His homilies were a lighted torch for all the people. He would apply the Biblical message to life. He would take a realistic look at what was taking place during the week, and then make conclusions. He would denounce all violations of human rights: give names, last names, names of places, etc.

Guerra continued:

He was the only person who could say these things in El Salvador. At that time, saying these things was like inviting a death sentence. He was the voice of those who had no voice. Seven times he received death warnings. He said ‘I am not afraid of death. Death be welcome. Because the day I am killed, I will be resurrected in the Salvadoran people.’

Guerra and other priests cautioned Romero on the Saturday morning before his last Sunday mass on March 23, 1980 that: “We should not invite disobedience from the soldiers. We don’t want to give them an opportunity to kill you.” But, Romero “wanted to denounce the massacres of the army. He listened to our advice, but kept silent. He took the decision to invite all soldiers not to take part in death … and you know how that concluded.”

Guerra then related the impact and events following Romero’s assassination. “I was very sad and full of anger. I felt like a light had gone out. … On Tuesday, I went to San Salvador. Everyday I went to visit the body and joined the masses.”

Romero’s body was in the Basilica of the Sacred Heart, eight blocks from the National Cathedral because the Cathedral was under construction. “I was at the burial. I was one of those along with six other priests who got to carry the body of Monsenor Romero from the altar to the main door.

There were over 300 priests from all over the Americas and Europe. Cardinal Corripio from Mexico celebrated the mass when the first bomb was heard. Streams of people were coming towards the Archbishop’s body. They could not get in because of the gates. Bombs started going off and there was a rush of people in all directions.

It was totally crazy. Everybody was running in great fear. Many people were on the ground and were trampled by the multitudes. … We took Romero’s body into the cathedral. The people knocked down the steel gates, and 5,000 people entered. We immediately took Romero’s body and put it in the burial vault. We were worried that they would try to take Monsenor Romero’s body. We encouraged people to sing. … By noon, things had calmed down, and the young priests went out and recovered 17 bodies [of those who had been trampled].

At this point, plaintiff’s counsel displayed several photographs showing some of the trampled bodies.

Fr. Guerra testified that “the Cardinal gave his final blessings, and at approximately 4 or 4.30 in the afternoon, all of the priests and nuns were escorted out by the military and into ambulances of the Red Cross. The military forced them to hold their hands up as they left. Guerrillas had entered the Cathedral. Thanks to them, the police and army did not enter- the army was scared of them. The Church and civil authorities negotiated that the army would leave.

Guerra then talked about Romero’s legacy:

Twenty-four years have passed. And ever year the activities for Monsenor Romero are increasing. I believe he is the priest most spoken about in the world. As a matter of fact, the Anglicans have placed a statute of him in Westminster Abby. He is a martyr for the Anglican Church and, of course, for us as well.”

He recounted what the Pope said when he came: “Happy is the Salvadoran people who have a shepherd, a bishop and a martyr as a guide.”

A series of photographs were then presented depicting activities celebrating and remembering Romero throughout the Americas.

Guerra continued “Always at his tomb there are flowers and people praying. Pope John Paul II himself changed his route and unexpectedly arrived and knelt and prayed there.”

Guerra was then asked if he was ever targeted after the assassination. He said he left El Salvador in July 1980 and went to Mexico. “The faithful people of Armenia kept telling me to leave.” He stayed there for two years, returning in August 1982. “I stayed through the entire civil war.”

Upon his return, the military threatened him. The colonel in Sonsanate, where Guerra and his parish were located, said: “You are a guerrilla, so I will kill you as you will kill me, so leave.” But, said Fr. Guerra, “I had made up my mind that I would not leave, because the people needed me. The Church was the hope of the people. For that reason, I could not leave.”

Prof. Naomi Roht-Arriaza

Trial counsel Russell Cohen began by establishing Professor Roht-Arriaza’s qualifications to testify as an expert.

Prof. Roht-Arriaza is a full Professor of Law at the University of California, Hastings College of the Law in San Francisco, where she teaches international human rights law, torts, and a seminar on accountability for human rights violations. She holds a Juris Doctorate from the University of California Berkeley, Boalt Hall and a Masters in Public Policy from the University of California, Berkeley. One area of Prof. Roht-Arriaza’s research is accountability for human rights abuses in Latin America. She has written two books: Impunity and Human Rights: International Law and Practice (Oxford University Press: 1995) and The Pinochet Effect: Transnational Justice in the Age of Human Rights (University of Pennsylvania Press: forthcoming 2004). She has also written many articles on the issues of impunity, accountability, and amnesty. She observed the trial in El Salvador of the officers accused of killing six Jesuit priests, and prepared a report for the San Francisco Bar Association on her observations. She is a member of the advisory councils of a number of human rights organizations, including the Center for Justice and Accountability, for which she receives no remuneration. Neither did she receive any remuneration for her testimony.

Judge Wanger found Prof. Roht-Arriaza to be qualified to offer her expert opinions on matters of international and national law concerning accountability for human rights violations; the composition, significance, function and effect of truth commissions; the operation, function, and competency of courts in El Salvador; and the operation and effect of amnesty laws in general and El Salvador’s amnesty law in particular.

Prof. Roht-Arriaza testified that the definition of impunity is the “non-action by government in light of evidence that crimes have been committed, almost always by people in power.” She explained that human rights violations take place when those who are perpetrating the violations are sure that they will never be punished. The answer to impunity, she said, is legal accountability.

Prof. Roht-Arriaza explained that the typical situation in which impunity occurs is after a period of mass human rights violations. During this transitional period, a new government faces the question – which arises during the formation of the new government or during peace negotiations – about what to do with those individuals who committed violations. During these transitional periods governments have a number of options for addressing the issue of accountability. Among other measures, they can pursue criminal prosecutions in national or international courts; pursue, or allow private parties to pursue, civil liability against the state or individual perpetrators; and establish truth commissions to compile records of past violations.

Prof. Roht-Arriaza explained that it is important for States to implement mechanisms to address accountability because unaddressed, patterns tend to re-emerge over time. She also said that the failure of governments to impose legal accountability creates situations in which there is no respect for the rule of law because only some people are held accountable to the law. Without an official attempt to deal with violations, people take the law into their own hands since there is no other socially acceptable channel for dealing with the issues.

Prof. Roht-Arriaza then testified about truth commissions. She said that truth commissions are official bodies created for the purpose of investigating an overall pattern of violations in a certain place at a certain time. Generally, their mandate includes coming to conclusions about the causes, pattern and extent of past human rights violations, and making recommendations about how to end patterns of violations.

Prof. Roht-Arriaza described the Truth Commission in El Salvador. It was created in 1992 based on a provision of the peace accords negotiated between the government of El Salvador and the FLMN (the guerilla group). The Commission was composed of three foreign, independent commissioners and an international staff of approximately 60 non-Salvadorans (as a measure to protect the confidentiality of cources and evidence). Of the 22,000 complaints the Truth Commission received, they investigated 32 cases – those that either demonstrated a common pattern, concerning which they had received numerous complaints, or else those that had particular resonance within El Salvador.

The Truth Commission received testimony in confidence from victims of the violations, from people who were witnesses, and from people in the military. They did not take testimony in public, as some Commissions have done, owing to the high level of fear that still existed.

The commissioners decided early on that they would not find that any assertion had been proved unless they had at least two independent sources of information for the fact. They also decided that they had authority to name responsible individuals if they had sufficient evidence to do so.

Prof. Roht-Arriaza testified the Truth Commission’s final report included a number of recommendations. Some recommendations concerned social reparations, such as building a monument or helping to find bodily remains of victims. Other recommendations called for structural reforms to the military, police and justice systems. In particular, Prof. Roht-Arriaza noted that the Truth Commission found that “the glaring inability of the judicial system to investigate crimes, to enforce the law, to apply the law to acts of violence, … that were committed under the direct or indirect cover of the public authorities was parcel and parcel of the situation.” The Commission was particularly critical of the Supreme Court and the President of the Court. It accused the President of the Court not simply of inaction, but of complicity in covering up crimes.

Prof. Roht-Arriaza testified that the Salvadoran government was furious with the Commission’s report – especially that it named responsible individuals -- and totally rejected the Commission’s findings. Five days after the report was issued, the Salvadoran government passed a sweeping amnesty law. Although there had been other amnesty laws, the 1993 amnesty law was a broad, absolute, and unconditional amnesty for any person who participated as a perpetrator or an accomplice in political crimes or massacres prior to January 1st, 1992. The only exception was for people who had been convicted of kidnapping for profit. [Naomi: convicted? Or accused of?]

Prof. Roht-Arriaza testified that not only did the amnesty law cover any criminal prosecution of people associated with the Archbishop’s assassination, but it also extinguished the possibility of civil liability. The Salvadoran law is the only amnesty law in Latin America, to Prof. Roht-Arriaza’s knowledge, that explicitly extinguishes civil liability.

Several attempts were made to open an investigation of the murder of Archbishop Romero but all were unsuccessful. One attempt, which Prof. Karl mentioned earlier, began in 1987. Eventually, the Salvadoran Supreme Court threw out the indictment on the ground that the testimony of Garay, Saravia’s driver, on which the indictment relied, was taken seven years after the fact. One of the outrageous aspects of that decision was that the prosecutor had previously refused to interview Garay.

After the amnesty law was passed, an attempt to reopen the case was unsuccessful because the Supreme Court of El Salvador found the amnesty law constitutional, and attempts after that ruling were barred based on res judicata (that is, that the issue had already been decided). The Supreme Court would also have found the case barred on the ground that the statute of limitations had run.

Prof. Roht-Arriaza explained that there have been several attempts to find the 1993 amnesty law unconstitutional. In one case, the Supreme Court concluded that the issue was a “political question.” In another, the Supreme Court concluded that an individual judge could consider whether a particular case violated a “fundamental right”, but that, in order to do so, the Public Prosecutor of El Salvador would have to specifically ask the court not to apply the amnesty law. The Public Prosecutor refused to do that for two reasons: 1) those cases were simple murders, and thus were not violations of fundamental rights, and 2) the statute of limitations had run and there was no doctrine of “tolling” in El Salvador. Prof. Roht-Arriaza testified that the combination of the law itself, the way it has been interpreted by the Supreme Court, and the way it had been interpreted by the public prosecutor foreclosed, and continue to foreclose, any possibility of being able to bring the Archbishop’s case in El Salvador.

Prof. Roht-Arriaza testified about the case filed on behalf of Archbishop Romero with the Inter-American Commission on Human Rights. She explained that the Inter-American Commission is a body of the Organization of American States (OAS) composed of seven international Commissioners. The Commission is charged with the general responsibility for overseeing the human rights situation in OAS countries, and can carry out on-site visits and hear individual complaints regarding violations of OAS treaties. When the Commission receives an individual complaint, it may independently investigate, issue findings of fact, make conclusions about whether the State has violated its responsibilities under international law, and issue recommendations to the State. If the State has accepted the jurisdiction of the Inter-American Court of Humn Rights, and does not comply with the Commission’s recommendations, then the Commission can forward the case to the Court.

Prof. Roht-Arriaza testified that, in the case of Archbishop Romero, the Commission found that the petitioners had exhausted all domestic remedies. It also found, in the Romero case and two others, that El Salvador’s amnesty law was violated the American Convention on Human Rights. The Commission called on El Salvador to modify or repeal the law.

Prof. Roht-Arriaza stated that the Commission had not forwarded the Romero case (or other Salvadoran cases) to the Inter-American Court, because El Salvador’s acceptance of the Court’s jurisdiction included an express provision that the Court would not have jurisdiction over any violation that took place before 1996.

In response to a question posed by Judge Wanger, Prof. Roht-Arriaza explained that the 1993 amnesty law in El Salvador was inapplicable outside of El Salvador for at least two reasons. First, the law is directed at domestic courts. Second, under international law, violations of international human rights and humanitarian law cannot be amnestied.

Prof. Roht-Arriaza explained what constitutes a “crime against humanity.” She said that such a crime has several attributes: first, the crime must be either widespread or systematic in nature. Second, it must be an attack upon a civilian population. Third, it must be a part of a plan or policy of some sort. Additionally, she said, some definitions include that a crime against humanity must be against an identifiable group of victims.

Prof. Roht-Arriaza testified that the prohibition of crimes against humanity is widely accepted in international law. Evidence of this acceptance includes General Assembly U.N. Resolutions, the Convention on the Non-Applicability of Statutory Limits to War Crimes and Crimes Against Humanity, and more recently, the statutes of the international criminal tribunals for Rwanda and the former Yugoslavia, and the Rome Statute of the International Criminal Court. She stressed that although the United States has not accepted the jurisdiction of the Criminal Court, the U.S. delegation was the primary drafter of Article 7 of the Rome Statute, which defined the elements of a crime against humanity.

Prof. Roht-Arriaza testified that a single murder could constitute a crime against humanity when it is shown that the single act meets the elements, and is within the context of a systematic attack against the population.

In closing, Prof. Roht-Arriaza testified that bringing the Archbishop’s case under the Alien Tort Claims Act in the United States could potentially have an enormous impact in El Salvador, similar to the effect that Pinochet’s arrest in London had on courts in Chile.

In response to Judge Wanger’s question re why Pinochet’s arrest in London had a substantial impact, Prof. Roht-Arriaza identified two processes that were catalyzed by the arrest.

First, victims and victims' lawyers started seeing that maybe there was some possibility of doing something, and they become more assertive in bringing domestic cases. Second, the judges started to change their attitudes from a sense of “we shouldn't touch this because it's too controversial” or “these cases are old news.” The judges started asking, “Why is this judge on the other side of the world looking at this case? Maybe we here should be looking at it. This is our case, it's our responsibility.” And they became more assertive of their own role as judges. They saw that courts in other countries, including courts of some prestige, such as the British House of Lords in the Pinochet case, take these crimes seriously, that they think that something should, indeed must, be done to address these crimes of the past. I have observed this process in Chile and Argentina and in some African countries. The effect can be very substantial, much more than one would expect, the momentum starts taking on a life of its own and one can observe more and more of a willingness among domestic judges to look at these cases.

The same is very likely to happen in El Salvador because a lot of people will be paying attention to this case and the courts of the United States are well-respected in El Salvador.

Professor Terry Lynn Karl

Note: Professor Karl testified for several days. We have divided up her testimony in several parts: qualifications as an expert witness (August 25, 2004), the roots of the conflict and the rise of death squads targeting the church (August 26, 2004), and the plot to kill Archbishop Romero, Saravia’s testimony and efforts to prosecute him, and the consequences of the Archbishop’s murder (September 3, 2004).

August 25, 2004: Qualifications as an Expert Witness:

Terry Lynn Karl is the Gildred Professor of Latin American Studies, Professor of Political Science and a Senior Fellow at the Institute of International Studies at Stanford University. She previously served as the Director of the Stanford Center for Latin American Studies. Her research on Latin America focuses on human rights, democratization, economic development, and the effects of U.S. foreign policy. She is the author of numerous books and articles. In conjunction with her scholarly research, she conducted many field research missions to El Salvador. She interviewed people from all sides, including the Left, members of the Christian Democratic Party, other political parties, the Right, the military and the security forces. She also interviewed death squad members.

Prof. Karl testified that El Salvador was an extremely difficult place to gather information. She noted that more foreign journalists were killed in El Salvador from 1980 to 1983 than during the entire Viet Nam War. As a foreigner, she had more protection than Salvadorans did, but the situation was also dangerous for foreigners.

Prof. Karl testified that she worked as an advisor or investigator for several Congressional delegations, and also was regularly asked by the U.S. military for her expert opinions. For instance, for a number of years, Prof. Karl debated then-Secretary of State for Latin American Affairs, Elliot Abrams, in front of members of the Joint Chiefs of Staff and different branches of the U.S. military.

Prof. Karl testified about the civil war in El Salvador. She noted that most experts date the start of the war from late-1980 or early 1981, and the war officially ended in January 1992, the date the U.N.-negotiated peace accord was signed. Negotiations for the peace agreement began after the murder, in November 1989, of six Jesuit priests. The murders provoked strong bipartisan pressure from the U.S. Congress to end all military aid to El Salvador, which in turn placed pressure on the parties in El Salvador to negotiate. The peace agreement was implemented between 1992 and the Salvadoran elections of 1994. Starting in 1992, a U.N. Truth Commission conducted an investigation and issued its report in 1993. As soon as it came out, it was controversial, and, within days, the govern­ing ARENA party, which controlled Congress, passed a "self amnesty."

In preparing to testify in this case, Prof. Karl re-interviewed people who were formerly members of the Christian Democratic Party and military officers, including Colonel Majano. In October 1979, Majano had led a coup by reformist military officers, a major watershed in the history of El Salvador. The coup was a key event for understanding the events leading to the murder of Archbishop Romero. Col. Majano left El Salvador in 1980 or 1981 as a result of death threats, including an attempted car bombing. Prof. Karl stated that some members of the military continue to harbor tremendous animus towards him. This is because the military had ruled El Salvador throughout all of its modern history, and very openly since 1932. Colonel Majano was part of a reformist faction of the military that believed that the military should not be in the government, but that there should be a democratic system with civilian rule. Following the coup he led in October 1979 against hard-line military officers, he invited civilians into the government, primarily Christian Democrats and representatives of other political parties, who were considered by hard-line military officers to be among the chief enemies of the country. He also started a process of land reform, which was the single most controversial act in El Salvador.

In advance of this hearing, Prof. Karl reviewed extensive documentation, including documents produced by the left- and right-wing parties in El Salvador and documents held by U.S. agencies that had been declassified. Some had been declassified pursuant to Freedom of Information Act (FOIA) requests from the National Security Archives, a private non-profit group that promotes transparency in government. Others had been declassified by the Clinton Administration starting in 1992 in the hope that these documents would help the U.N. to better understand how the death squads operated and thereby be better equipped to dismantle them during the peace accords.

Prof. Karl explained that the Salvadoran peace agreements required the dismantling of the Treasury Police and the National Police and the construction of a new police force. The U.S. and U.N. administrations were concerned, however, that the death squad apparatus that operated out of both of these forces would continue to operate. Since death squads are secret by their nature, it was important to gather as much information about them as possible so that pressure could be brought to bear in the appropriate places to prevent the death squads’ continued operation. Prof. Karl estimated that she had read somewhere between eight and ten thousand of these documents, which were the majority of those that had been declassified.

To prepare for her testimony, Prof. Karl also reviewed the U.N. Truth Commission report and documents relied on by the Truth Commission. The Commission had been established as part of the peace agreements to try to uncover the truth concerning the estimated 75,000 civilian murders. The hope at the time was that the Commission report would lead to some prosecutions, although it was not possible to investigate all civilian murders in the time frame allowed. Accordingly, murders were investigated either because they were of high importance or because specific complaints were brought forward by families.

Two processes were set up that are relevant to this case: one was the Truth Commission, comprised of three leading jurists; and the second , known as the Ad Hoc Commission complemented the Truth Commission. It investigated the human rights abuses of officers in order to decide which officers should be purged from the Salvadoran military as part of the peace agreement.

The Truth Commission investigated a range of crimes. Subsequently, because the issue of dismantling the death squads became so important, a joint commission was formed to investigate the death squads themselves, to try to get at the questions of who exactly were still in the death squads, who was paying for death squads, and how were they organized. Most of that material is still not public. Prof. Karl played a role in advising members of the Joint Commission. In preparing for her testimony, Prof. Karl reviewed unpublished material from that investigation, including copies of death squad threats and dossiers on people who were threatened, and associated interviews, including interviews with Alvaro Saravia.

Prof. Karl also reviewed documents from Guatemala, including U.S. government declassified documents, newspaper articles and reports. She conducted interviews with non-Salvadorans – especially people from Costa Rica, Nicaragua and Guatemala -- who were deeply involved in the Salvadoran process at the time, including Nobel Prize winner Oscar Arias.

She also reviewed publications of the World Anti-Communist League, and a Latin American branch, formed in 1972, called the Confederation of Latin American Anti-Communists. Roberto D'Aubuisson was one of the Salvadoran representatives to the World Anti-Communist League. Another representative of importance to this case was José Francisco Guerrero, the President of the Salvadoran Supreme Court when the case against Alvaro Saravia was reviewed by the Supreme Court in 1987.

August 26, 2004

The Roots of the Conflict and the Rise of Death Squads Targeting the Church

Prof. Karl described the historical context of El Salvador at the time of the assassination. She testified that the roots of conflict centered on two main issues: land reform and military rule. El Salvador had one of the continent’s most concentrated patterns of land ownership and it had been under military rule since 1932, the longest military government in the history of Latin America.

Prof. Karl explained that the military in El Salvador – which also functioned as a government – included all of the