When police in Rio de Janeiro uncover vast caches of drugs, they often find them marked with a symbol that raises eyebrows — the Star of David. However, this representation signifies beliefs of certain Pentecostal Christians who associate Jewish return to Israel with the prophesied Second Coming. This fascinating yet alarming phenomenon is tied to the activities of the Pure Third Command, a dominant criminal enterprise in Rio, which has gained notoriety for both its aggressive territorial expansion and its evangelical Christian identity.
With a fervent evangelism, its members believe they are "soldiers of crime," operating under the ideology that Jesus oversees their domain, a territory they stole from rival factions. The emblematic Christian imagery they project, juxtaposed with their reputation for ruthless violence, has led some to tag them as "Narco-Pentecostals".
Pastor Diego Nascimento, a former leader of the infamous Red Command gang, exemplifies the complex relationship between faith and crime. Nascimento turned to Christianity after a life dominated by drug trafficking and addiction; he found salvation amid desperation, catalyzing a dramatic life change. Yet, he views the fusion of criminality with evangelical faith as inherently contradictory, arguing that no true follower of Christ could engage in drug dealing while genuinely adhering to biblical principles.
Educational insights reveal that as evangelical Christianity burgeons, particularly among impoverished communities in Rio’s favelas, some gangs are leveraging these religious aspects to consolidate power. Experts, including sociology professor Christina Vital, describe how violence is now employed to forge a singular religious narrative in certain neighborhoods — an act that bolsters the gangs' influence and threatens freedoms of other faiths, such as Afro-Brazilian religions that have faced suppression.
Gang-led intimidation tactics have led to a grim climate of religious intolerance, with reports of threats and assaults directed at practitioners of Afro-Brazilian faiths, exemplifying a broader, concerning trend of these so-called neo-Crusades. Marcio de Jagun, a religious leader himself, characterizes these acts as not merely criminal but also deeply rooted in social prejudices intertwining ethnicity and faith.
The intertwining of religion and crime in Brazil isn't a new phenomenon; it's an age-old dynamic rooted in the country's history. The presence of diverse religious practices among both gangs and their communities highlights how ingrained these relations are, suggesting a longstanding dialogue and conflict between faith and illegality. However, as gangs like the Pure Third Command continue to merge these identities, the repercussions for freedom of belief can be dire, rendering precarious the fundamental tenets enshirined in the Brazilian constitution.
This explosion of 'Narco-Religiosity' poses a unique challenge for communities and law enforcement alike, as they grapple with the growing power of these criminal, quasi-religious actors, signaling a worrying trajectory for both social order and religious freedoms in Brazil.
