Fair enough (especially if you have a pet). Pichardo is no ordinary priest, and his ancient religion-Santeria-is several tributaries off the mainstream. The religion, born in Nigeria, made its way to Cuba by slave ship and eventually into Florida by way of refugees fleeing Castro. Its congregants believe in sacrificing chickens, doves, turtles and goats to placate their god, Olodumare. In candlelit ceremonies to initiate new clergy, cure the sick and celebrate birth and death, a priest slits the animals’ throats, drains the blood into clay pots and prepares the meat for eating. The 38-year-old Pichardo a former Roman Catholic altar boy, says he’s “lost count of how many thousands of animals I have killed.” If he wants to continue the ritual, Pichardo will have to convince at least five justices of the U.S. Supreme Court this week that Hialeah’s law violates the First Amendment’s guarantee of the “free exercise” of religion.
Santeria’s practices, followed by 70,000 members in south Florida alone, may seem simply to pit the sensibilities of animal lovers against a fringe order of poultricidal zealots. But the dispute is a key test for the high court. The authors of the Bill of Rights sought to keep government out of church affairs. That freedom has never been absolute in American society-bans on Mormon polygamy or Pentecostal snake-handling have been upheld-but it has long enjoyed special protection.
Two years ago the Supreme Court undercut the safeguards that protected the practices of many religious minorities. The justices ruled that Oregons anti-drug laws could be used to bar Native Americans from smoking peyote. In a sweeping decision written by Justice Antonin Scalia, the court gave legislators vast discretion, as long as “prohibiting the exercise of religion … is not the object of [a law], but merely its incidental effect.” In other words, the state could ban peyote smoking because it feared the effects of the drug, not to limit a religious practice. That hyperfine distinction worried Justice Sandra Day O’Connor, but she suggested few lawmakers “would be so naive as to enact a law directly prohibiting or burdening a religious practice as such.”
Except, perhaps, the members of the Hialeah city council. They maintain that their law is not aimed at the Santeria faith. “But if their religion demands sacrifice,” says council president Salvatore D’Angelo, “they’re going to have to adjust for the 21st century.” Hialeah officials say their goal is to protect the health of residents who might be exposed to bloody carcasses that attract vermin, as well as to prevent unnecessary cruelty to animals. Two lower courts found these to be “compelling government interests”-enough to trump the Constitution-and ruled for the city.
Santeria leaders argue that there is little to substantiate the health concerns. Their brief accuses the city of creating “after-the-fact rationalizations” to justify a law “enacted for the sole purpose of suppressing a religious practice.” And it suggests that town leaders are hypocrites. “You can kill a turkey in your backyard, put it on the table, say a prayer and serve it for Thanksgiving,” says Pichardo. “But if we pray over the turkey, kill it, then eat it, we violated the law.”
The Chicken Wars, as they’ve come to be known, offer the justices a chance to clarify their position on religious freedom-either to pull back from their widely criticized 1990 decision or to say they meant just what they said. More than a signed briefs supporting Santeria. Says Steven McFarland, director of the Center For Law & Religious Freedom, “I hope the court hasn’t lobotomized the free-exercise clause.” Even the United States Catholic Conference, which filed a cautiously worded “Brief in Support of Neither Party,” sides with Pichardo.
Critics charge that since the 1990 decision there has been a steady erosion of religious liberty. Federal courts have cited the peyote decision to allow increasing government incursions, for instance, permitting autopsies ordered on Orthodox Jews and Laotian Hmong over their families’ religious objections. One federal court upheld the FBI’s decision to fire an agent for refusing an assignment on religious grounds. An Ohio court wrote that after the 1990 ruling, the free-exercise clause is no more than a “puff of smoke.”
Many religious groups are urging the court to scuttle the peyote ruling, not just throw out the Hialeah ordinances. For that to happen, new Justices David Souter and Clarence Thomas would have to sign on. So too would the court’s putative moderates, O’Connor and Anthony Kennedy, who joined Scalia in 1990. It may come down to whether the court is more concerned about dismembered chickens or being accused of dismembering the Constitution.
