Reading Silence in the Age of Trump
I recently read Silence, a novel on Christian persecution in 17th century Japan. And, like any politically aware American, Donald Trump was in the back of my mind. I realized this novel can speak deeply to what Americans, Christians or not, are going through right now. Not its tale of Christian persecution, but its deeper theme, of the world’s silence in the face of injustice.
Silence — written by Shusaku Endo — focuses on the experiences of Rodrigues, a Jesuit missionary who sneaks into Japan in order to find his mentor, Ferreira. It is set in 17th century Japan, as a newly unified political system and wariness of foreign influences led to persecution of Christianity. Ferreira had reportedly apostatized after being captured as part of this crackdown, and Rodrigues hopes to discover what really happened. The novel deals with questions of faith, and the experience of repression. But it also meditates on the silence Rodrigues faces when he prays for deliverance. For those of us sticking to our principles and fighting injustice, can we expect someone to intervene on our behalf, or the universe to correct itself in response to our efforts? If that never occurs, should we keep trying to do what is right?
For many Americans, the age of Trump is a harrowing time. Climate change, warlike rhetoric, white supremacism, and authoritarianism all hover over American politics. For me, the most difficult thing to deal with is the Trump Administration’s family separation policy, treating asylum seekers as felons and taking their children from them. These children are being kept in internment camps — some of which were used to detain Japanese-Americans in World War II — and the situation has led to several deaths and widespread psychological damage. It’s hard to accept that this is happening, and that so many are ok with it.
So it is natural that we, like Silence’s protagonist, await a deus ex machina solution to Trump. Surely the American people, the civil service, the Constitution can’t tolerate these excesses? Surely the “axis of adults” surrounding Trump will restrain him? Surely Robert Mueller was sent here to save us? But just as Rodrigues’ prayers met silence, so too has Mueller refused to give a satisfying answer, the axis of adults resigned, and the American political system seems incapable of automatically correcting itself.
The problem is acute for progressive Christians. The Trump Administration, and Christian support for it, has been troubling on a spiritual level. Many of us have spent our lives trying to demonstrate there is more to our faith than conservative culture wars. The full-throated and torturous Christian defenses of Trump threaten to undermine these efforts. And while Christianity isn’t completely optimistic, there is a promise that justice will be fulfilled. It’s been hard to see a President lie and bully daily, and Christian leaders twist the Scriptures to defend him, with seemingly no consequences.
So what is to be done about the silence that surrounds injustice? Endo leaves things ambiguous. The characters not only apostasize, but actively help the authorities persecute Christianity. They do so because they convince themselves this is the only way to help others, that suffering for their beliefs is a meaningless gesture. It is left a little ambiguous whether there was another option.
In America, one apparent solution comes from the vast majority of white evangelicals who support Trump. This community believes it has been persecuted by the Obama Administration’s healthcare policies or the generally progressive tilt of 21st century American culture. They called out for deliverance, and found it in Trump. While some believed evangelicals would turn away from the Republican party because of Trump’s un-Christian behavior and lack of understanding about the faith, they have stuck with him. And he has delivered, nominating judges that will advance evangelical causes and changing healthcare policy to deal with their concerns. Thus, one solution to the silence is to create a savior from it (although I should note, as someone who studies religious persecution, I don’t consider conservative Christians in America a persecuted group).
Another solution is to withdraw. Like the Christians in Silence who went underground until Christianity was legalized, we can try to wait it out. We can despair of changing American politics, and wait until it changes itself.
But a third solution has emerged: we can resist. Progressive Christians have responded to the age of Trump by organizing. They are pushing back on both his Administration’s policies, and the trends in American Christianity that enable them. In Silence, Rodrigues realizes the silence was due to the fact that Jesus was suffering alongside him; this seemed to presage Rodrigues’ despairing of deliverance and apostasy. Contemporary progressive Christians have come to a similar realization, but with different implications; it has given them the strength to cast off mild-mannered buttoned-up faith and reclaim American Christianity from the conservative evangelicals who have defined it.
Endo’s Silence resists providing easy answers. Likewise, there are no easy answers in progressive Christianity’s current political moment. Progressive faith may be too self-reflective to yield a powerful political program. Political organizing may sap the tradition of its integrity, turning it into a wing of a political party. There may simply be too few of us to accomplish anything. But at a moment when thousands of children are being imprisoned in our name, we need to fill the silence with our voices.
(This is a tricky post. Silence dealt with a historical moment in which horrific religious persecution occurred alongside concerns about colonialism and the destruction of culture. It resists reducing any of its characters, especially the Japanese people, to simple morality tales. And it may seem a bit much to compare that period of persecution with modern day America. Likewise, Japanese Christians who went underground weren’t “giving in,” they were trying to avoid torture and death.There may be other issues with this framing I haven’t noticed. It’s not a perfect allegory, more of a meditation, but I’m happy to engage with concerns).
