Modern-day martyr

"Cassocks are not bullet-proof". Twenty-five years ago today, Archbishop Oscar Romero of El Salvador was killed because he defended the poor, ignoring the warning of the National Guard Commander that his status would not protect him. A distant time and place, however Mgr Romero's legacy is as relevant now as then.

Hailed as a modern-day martyr, Mgr Romero ranks among history's groundbreaking leaders, like Martin Luther King and Mahatma Gandhi. Millions of his followers worldwide are marking his anniversary, eagerly awaiting an announcement from Rome. Julian Filochowski, former head of CAFOD (UK Caritas) and chairman of the Romero Trust, is in El Salvador for celebrations. He told me: "There is great anticipation here that the go-ahead for Mgr Romero's beatification will be given this year. We have been waiting for years".

That the anniversary should fall on Maundy Thursday is a "beautiful coincidence" for Mr Filochowski, who was Mgr Romero's friend; it was precisely as he was consecrating bread and wine during Mass that Mgr Romero was gunned down by a single, precise shot.

In the 1970s and 1980s in El Salvador, any voice of dissent was swiftly silenced. Today, it is trendy to work in "human rights", everyone pays them lip service at least. Back then, none dared to speak.

Except for Mgr Romero. When he became Archbishop in 1977, the country was on the brink of civil war. As resistance to economic and political oppression grew, most peasants turned to the church for guidance. The right-wing military dictatorship and aristocracy responded to peaceful protests by ordering troops to shoot strikers and rights activists, especially teachers, nuns and priests.

Mgr Romero's pulpit became a platform for the denunciation of abuses. He set up a commission to document executions, torture, disappearances and other violations by the army and militias. At least 75,000 people would be killed in a war which lasted years.

He persevered even when fellow bishops and the Holy See waivered; he had come to believe that a reluctance to mix politics and church matters only endorsed injustice. Mr Filochowski thinks it fitting that the 25th year since Mgr Romero's murder should coincide with the 40th anniversary of the Vatican Council II pastoral constitution, Gaudium et Spes. This document, he says, "opens up a panorama of the Church engaged in the life of the world, in human rights and justice; Mgr Romero found his inspiration there, he was part of the Church among the poor".

Mgr Romero lived his beliefs concretely and therein lies his legacy. Our situation is radically different from his Salvador, but poor people and injustice are still with us. Mgr Romero would have had much to say about world politics today, "from the perspective of the victim, the outsider," says Mr Filochowski, "not of selfish policies which exclude the poor". Like a recent EU proposal to give up the fight against social exclusion as a priority objective. In Europe, 68 million people face poverty but their leaders prefer to focus exclusively on economic growth.

Malta's "poor" are not immediately in evidence, apart from asylum seekers and refugees. However, a glance at the national action plan on poverty reveals that 15 per cent of Malta's population risk poverty and exclusion. Topping the list are single-parent families, mostly headed by women; the unemployed, people who are illiterate; people with mental health problems, children and the elderly.

Thousands of people criss-cross these neatly labelled groups, people crippled by multiple setbacks, with little hope of ever living life to the full. They come from "problem families" in disadvantaged areas, rarely shining at school, and with slim chances of decent employment. Then there are people facing particular challenges, like disability or chronic illness, which give rise to unmet needs.

The plan details reassuring government promises for better services, to some extent realised. But this is just an infinitesimal part of an urgently needed approach offering equal opportunities for all. A society's mettle is revealed in the extent of its solidarity with the "poor", not merely in dispensing charity but in supporting marginalised groups in their fight for justice. This is not someone else's job, it is what we should be doing, and thanks to myriad government agencies and NGOs we have ample opportunities to pitch in.

As bishop, Mgr Romero would ride across his diocese on horseback to learn about the people's needs. He saw children dying because they had no penicillin, people paid less than half the minimum wage and beaten if they protested. People seeking to support underprivileged people in Malta would not witness such horrors but what they discover could well move them to action, as those involved could tell you.

"To know God is to do justice". We are called to embrace this conviction as Mgr Romero did. In his words, "we know every effort to improve society... is an effort that God blesses, that God wants, that God demands of us".