The drug-trafficking Rio gangster who sees himself as God’s ‘soldiers of crime’

When police in Rio de Janeiro seize blocks of cocaine and bundles of marijuana, they might find them marked with a religious symbol – the Star of David. This is not a reference to the Jewish faith, but to the belief of some Pentecostal Christians that the return of the Jews to Israel will mark the Second Coming of Jesus Christ.

The gang selling these branded drugs is Pure Third Command, one of Rio’s most powerful criminal groups, famous for both the disappearances of its opponents and its fanatical evangelical Christianity.

They took control of a group of five favelas in the north of the city – now known as the Israel Complex – by taking whatever one of their leaders had, says theologian Vivian Costa, author of the book Evangelical Drug. , That was a revelation from God. Dealer.

She says that the gangsters see themselves as “soldiers of crime”, with Jesus as the “master” of the area they dominate.

Controversially, some have dubbed them “narco-Pentecostals”.

One man who has experience with crime and religion – although in his case, not at the same time – is Pastor Diego Nascimento, who became a Christian after hearing the gospel from a gun-toting gangster.

Looking at him, it’s hard to believe that the boyish-looking 42-year-old Wesleyan Methodist minister, with his beaming smile and dimples, was once a member of Rio’s notorious Red Command crime gang and managed its activities in the city’s Villa Kennedy favela. Was.

Four years in prison for drug dealing was not enough to make him give up crime. But when he became addicted to crack cocaine his reputation in the gang declined.

He says, “I lost my family. I practically lived on the streets for about a year. I even went to the extent of selling things in my house to buy crack.”

It was at that time, when he was at his lowest, that a well-known drug dealer from the favela called him.

He recalls, “They started preaching to me and said there was a way out, a solution for me, which was to accept Jesus.”

The young addict took this advice and began his journey to the stage.

Pastor Nascimento still spends time with criminals, but now it is through his work in prisons, where he helps people turn their lives around, just as he did himself.

Despite being converted by a gangster, he finds the idea of ​​religious criminals contradictory.

“I don’t see them as evangelical believers,” he says.

“I see them as people who are going on the wrong path and they have the fear of God because they know that God is the one who protects their lives.

“There is no such thing as being an evangelical and a thug. If a person accepts Jesus and follows the commandments of the Bible, that person cannot be a drug dealer.”

According to some predictions, Evangelical Christianity will overtake Catholicism as Brazil’s largest religion by the end of the decade.

As it has evolved, the charismatic Pentecostal movement has particularly resonated with people living in gang-ridden neighborhoods, and now some of those gangs are using elements of that faith to gain power with They had grown up.

One accusation that has been made against them is that they are using violence to suppress Afro-Brazilian beliefs.

Cristina Vital, a sociology professor at Rio’s Fluminense Federal University, says Rio’s poor communities have long been “under siege” from criminal gangs and now it is impacting their religious freedom.

“In the Israel complex, people with other religious beliefs cannot be seen practicing them in public. It would not be an exaggeration to speak of religious intolerance in that area.”

Vital says African-Brazilian Umbanda and Candomblé religious houses have also been boarded up in nearby neighborhoods, with gangsters sometimes writing messages on the walls such as “Jesus is the Lord of this place.”

Followers of Afro-Brazilian religions have long faced prejudice, and drug dealers are not the only people who have targeted them.

But Dr. Rita Salim, the Rio police department’s head of racial and intolerance crimes, says threats and attacks from narco-gangs have a particularly powerful effect.

“These cases are all the more serious because they are imposed by a criminal organization, a group and its leader, who impose fear on the entire area under their domination.”

She notes that an arrest warrant has been issued for the man, considered the number one crime kingpin in the Israel complex, who allegedly ordered armed men to attack an Afro-Brazilian temple in another favela Was.

While allegations of religious extremism in Rio’s villages first attracted attention in the early 2000s, the problem has “increased dramatically” in recent years, according to Marcio de Jagun, coordinator of religious diversity at Rio’s City Hall. .

Jagun, who is the Babalorixa (high priest) of the Candomblé religion, says the issue is now a national issue, with similar attacks seen in other Brazilian cities.

“It’s a form of neo-crusade,” he says. “The bias behind these attacks is both religious and ethnic, with bandits demonizing Africa’s religions and claiming to eradicate evil in the name of God.”

But theologian Vivian Costa says religion and crime have long been linked in Brazil. In the past, gangsters sought protection from African-Brazilian gods and Catholic saints.

“If we look at the birth of the Red Command, or the birth of the Third Command, African religions (and Catholicism) have been there from the beginning. We see the presence of St. George, the presence of (Afro-Brazilian God) Ugun, Tattoos, crucifixes, candles, offerings.

“That’s why to call it narco-Pentecostalism is to diminish the relationship that is so historical and traditional between crime and religion. I prefer to call it ‘narco-religiousness’.”

Whatever one calls this mixture of faith and criminality, one thing seems clear: it threatens the right to religious freedom enshrined in the Brazilian Constitution.

And it is yet another way in which violent drug traffickers harm the communities forced to live under their rule.