Guatamalan murder: Novelist explores who killed Bishop Gerardi

“The Art of Political Murder: Who Killed the Bishop?” by Francisco Goldman. Grove Press

(New York, 2007) 416 pp., $25.

We read whodunit novels for a reason. We want to be entertained as we’re drawn into an elaborate labyrinth that seeks motive, means and opportunity amid a cast of possible suspects. We ride along with the protagonists as they seek out the truth at all cost. And at the end, we expect a definitive resolution. Francisco Goldman’s newest book provides all of those, except there’s no happy ending.

The brutal 1998 murder of Auxiliary Bishop Juan Gerardi Conedera of Guatemala City, and the subsequent decade of drama around who killed him, is an important story that needs to be widely told. Yet it is so complex, and at times bizarre, that it is perhaps best told by a novelist.

Goldman, a Guatemalan-American writer who lives in New York but was baptized in the Guatemala City church where Bishop Gerardi was killed, has skillfully told the tale in his first book of nonfiction, “The Art of Political Murder: Who Killed the Bishop?”

In his debut novel, “The Long Night of White Chickens,” Goldman adroitly led the reader through the parallel universes of magic and terror which define Guatemala today. In this book about Bishop Gerardi, a crusading human rights advocate who wanted to help Guatemala heal from a long civil war by openly disclosing the truth about who was responsible for the violence, Goldman leads the reader through the maze of evidence and speculation.

The search for truth is not without its distractions, and Goldman eloquently describes the beady-eyed soldiers, the aging dog on whom some wanted to pin the killing, the indigents who were recruited as spies, the crazed Spanish scientist who tried to steal a thumb from the bishop’s cadaver, the secret homosexual club for top government officials, the threats against judges and the killing of witnesses. But Goldman notes that these often surfaced to distract investigators and the general public from identifying the real authors of the crime.

Goldman shares unique insight into the case by taking the reader along with the “Untouchables,” a group of young investigators from the archdiocese who patiently track down witnesses and obscure leads when the government agents assigned to the murder seem uninterested in pursuing justice. The Untouchables are not falsely heroic figures, however; Goldman -- who was granted unparalleled access to the church team -- aptly describes their impatience, shortcomings and conflicts.

And when the Untouchables fear to tread, Goldman becomes the protagonist himself. During the seven years he worked on the book, he often set off on his own. He tried to find the parish pet, Baloo, after the dog was impounded by the government in a veterinary hospital, accused of following orders shouted in German to kill the prelate.

Goldman tracked down witnesses and exiled prosecutors living abroad in witness protection programs. And he developed a gut feeling for the case when he received a telephoned threat from one of the implicated military officials. But since this is Guatemala, the static on the line prevented Goldman from completely understanding it. Ever the journalist, he calls back in an effort to make sure he got the threat straight.

The church is not only a victim of this murder, and Goldman introduces us to unsavory characters such as the archdiocesan chancellor and his criminally connected niece (or, say many, his daughter) who served as easy suspects for those trying to divert attention from state involvement. Goldman valiantly tries to explain how Father Mario Orantes, a housemate of Bishop Gerardi’s, was involved in the plot, but ultimately fails. Father Orantes remains something of an enigma to the end.

Despite the bad press, church leaders do the right thing. At one point, a representative of President Alvaro Arzu approached church leaders with a deal: The state would drop proceedings against Father Orantes if the church would back off from investigating military culpability. The church, to its credit, declined.

After a laborious legal process, during which several witnesses are killed or flee for their lives, three military officers and Father Orantes are found guilty of the murder. It was a victory for the truth that Bishop Gerardi championed, but the bishop would have thought it incomplete.

Although the courts also ordered an investigation into the role of several unindicted co-conspirators, including top military officials, the investigator charged with that task has no staff and no budget for that investigation. Political will to deal with the past, and thus construct a better future, is in short supply in Guatemala, notwithstanding the courageous witness of a martyred bishop.

-- Jeffrey, a freelance photojournalist based in Oregon, spent many years in Central America.