In Rio de Janeiro, law enforcement officials often encounter blocks of cocaine and bundles of marijuana marked with a distinct religious symbol: the Star of David. This statement does not pertain to the Jewish faith itself but rather to the perspective held by certain Pentecostal Christians who believe that the return of Jews to Israel will precipitate the Second Coming of Christ.
The organization distributing these branded drugs is known as the Pure Third Command, recognized as one of Rio’s most formidable criminal factions. It has garnered a reputation for eliminating its adversaries and its fervent adherence to evangelical Christianity.
A group has asserted control over five favelas in the northern part of the city, now referred to as the Israel Complex. According to theologian Vivian Costa, who authored the book Evangelical Drug Dealers, this shift in power reportedly followed a leader’s conviction that he received a divine revelation.
According to her, the gangsters perceive themselves as “soldiers of crime,” viewing Jesus as “the owner” of the territory they control.
Some have controversially referred to them as “Narco-Pentecostals.
A firearm and a sacred text
Though not concurrently, Pastor Diego Nascimento’s life story intertwines the realms of crime and faith. He embraced Christianity after a life-altering encounter with a gangster, who, while brandishing a firearm, shared the gospel with him.
At first glance, the 42-year-old Wesleyan Methodist minister, with his youthful appearance, warm smile, and charming dimples, seems unlikely. However, his past reveals a stark contrast; he was once affiliated with Rio’s infamous Red Command crime gang, overseeing its operations in the Vila Kennedy favela.
Despite serving four years in prison for drug dealing, he remains undeterred in his criminal pursuits. However, his addiction to crack cocaine led to a significant decline in his status within the gang.
I have experienced the loss of my family. I spent nearly a year living on the streets. “I went to the extent of selling items from my home to purchase crack,” he states.
At that moment, when he found himself at his lowest, a prominent drug dealer from the favela reached out to him.
“He began to share his beliefs with me, insisting that there was a path forward, a resolution to my struggles, which involved embracing Jesus,” he remembers.
A young addict heeded this counsel and embarked on his path to the pulpit.
Pastor Nascimento continues to engage with individuals involved in criminal activities. Still, his current focus is on his role within prisons, where he aids inmates in transforming their lives, mirroring his journey of change.
Although a gangster converted him, he views the notion of religious criminals as inherently contradictory.
“I do not perceive them as evangelical believers,” he states.
“They appear to be individuals straying from the right course, driven by a fear of divine judgment, fully aware that God ultimately protects their existence.” The notion of merging evangelical beliefs with a thug lifestyle appears to be fundamentally contradictory.
A person who embraces Jesus and adheres to the Biblical commandments cannot simultaneously engage in drug dealing.
Residing in a state of constant siege
Predictions suggest that by the end of the decade, Evangelical Christianity may surpass Catholicism to become Brazil’s largest religion.
The charismatic Pentecostal movement has seen significant growth, particularly among individuals residing in gang-affected favelas. In a notable development, some gangs are now incorporating aspects of the faith they were raised in to enhance their influence.
They face allegations of employing violence to stifle Afro-Brazilian religious practices.
Christina Vital, a sociology professor at Fluminense Federal University in Rio, highlights the ongoing struggles faced by the city’s impoverished communities, which have been living “under siege” due to the presence of criminal gangs. This situation, she argues, is now encroaching upon their freedom of religion.
In the Israel Complex, individuals holding different religious beliefs are not permitted to practice their faith openly. Describing the situation in that territory as one marked by religious intolerance is not an overstatement.
Vital reports that Afro-Brazilian religious houses, including Umbanda and Candomblé, have faced closures in nearby neighbourhoods. Often, gangsters have left messages on the walls, declaring, “Jesus is the Lord of this place.”
Adherents of Afro-Brazilian religions have historically encountered discrimination, and they are not solely at risk from drug traffickers.
Dr. Rita Salim, the head of the Rio Police Department for Racial and Intolerance Crimes, emphasizes that threats and attacks from narco-gangs carry a particularly significant weight.
“The severity of these cases is heightened by the involvement of a criminal organization, led by a figure who instils fear across the entire territory under its control.”
An arrest warrant has been issued for a man believed to be the leading crime boss in the Israel Complex, accused of orchestrating an attack by armed men on an Afro-Brazilian temple located in another favela.
‘Neo-crusade’ refers to a modern movement or campaign that seeks to address specific issues or promote particular ideologies, often drawing parallels to historical crusades. This term encapsulates the fervour and determination of those involved in contemporary social, political, or religious.
Allegations of religious extremism in Rio’s favelas, which first emerged in the early 2000s, have seen a significant escalation in recent years, as noted by Marcio de Jagun, co-ordinator of Religious Diversity at Rio’s City Hall.
Jagun, a high priest of the Candomblé religion, asserts that the situation has escalated to a national level, with comparable incidents reported in various cities across Brazil.
“This represents a new kind of crusade,” he asserts. “These attacks are rooted in both religious and ethnic prejudice, as perpetrators vilify African religions while asserting their intent to eradicate evil in the name of God.”
Theologian Vivian Costa asserts that the relationship between religion and crime has deep historical roots in Brazil. Historically, gangsters sought protection from Afro-Brazilian deities as well as Catholic saints.
The origins of the Red Command and the Third Command reveal that Afro religions and Catholicism have been integral since their inception. The scene is marked by the presence of Saint George alongside the Afro-Brazilian deity Ògún. Elements such as tattoos, crucifixes, candles, and offerings are prominently displayed.
Referring to it as Narco-Pentecostalism oversimplifies the longstanding and complex relationship that exists between crime and religion. The term I choose to use is ‘Narco-Religiosity.’
The intersection of faith and criminality raises significant concerns, particularly regarding a fundamental right protected by Brazil’s constitution: religious freedom.
This represents yet another instance of the detrimental impact that violent drug traffickers impose on the communities compelled to exist under their dominance.
