The Missionary Position

The Missionary Position Plot Summary

Introduction

Mother Teresa, often portrayed as the epitome of selfless service to the poor, has become one of the most recognized religious figures of the 20th century. Yet beneath this carefully cultivated image lies a complex reality that merits critical examination. Christopher Hitchens challenges the universal adulation of this Catholic nun by methodically deconstructing the mythology surrounding her work, motives, and impact. Through rigorous analysis of documented evidence, he reveals the contradictions between her public image and her actual practices. This critical investigation is not merely an exercise in iconoclasm but rather an essential inquiry into how public personas become immune to scrutiny when cloaked in religious virtue. By examining the disconnect between Mother Teresa's reputation and her actions, we confront broader questions about how society creates and sustains modern saints, often at the expense of rational analysis. The examination demonstrates how emotional appeal and selective storytelling can overwhelm logical assessment, particularly when religious sentiments are involved, offering readers an opportunity to develop a more nuanced understanding of charitable work, religious authority, and the politics of public adoration.

Chapter 1: The Illusion of Sanctity: Manufactured Image vs. Reality

The manufacturing of Mother Teresa's saintly image began in earnest with Malcolm Muggeridge's 1969 BBC documentary "Something Beautiful for God" and the subsequent book of the same name. This watershed moment transformed an obscure Albanian nun into a global icon of compassion. Muggeridge, already predisposed to religious reverence, claimed to have witnessed a miracle during filming at Mother Teresa's Home for the Dying in Calcutta. He insisted that divine light had illuminated an otherwise impossibly dark room, allowing the cameraman to capture footage that should have been technically impossible. The supposed miracle, however, was promptly debunked by Ken Macmillan, the very cameraman who shot the footage. Macmillan explained that they had simply used a new, more sensitive Kodak film that performed better than expected in low light. When he attempted to credit the film technology, Muggeridge interrupted him, declaring it "divine light" associated with Mother Teresa. This fabricated miracle became widely accepted despite its clear refutation by the person who actually captured the images. It represents perhaps the first documented case where the creator of a claimed miracle directly contradicted and disproved the miraculous interpretation. The Calcutta portrayed in Muggeridge's work similarly distorted reality to enhance Mother Teresa's image. He described the city as "barely tolerable" even for Europeans with servants and comfortable amenities, reinforcing Western perceptions of India as hopelessly destitute. This characterization ignored Calcutta's rich cultural heritage as the city of Tagore, Ray, Bose, and a vibrant intellectual tradition. The city, while certainly facing severe poverty and overcrowding, possessed a resilience and dignity at odds with the helpless wasteland depicted in Mother Teresa narratives. Mother Teresa herself contributed to this image-making by frequently claiming direct communication with Jesus and divine guidance in her work. When asked about establishing her mission in Calcutta, she deflected Muggeridge's praise by stating, "I was sure then, and I'm still convinced, that it is He and not I." Such statements reinforced her portrayal as merely an instrument of divine will rather than someone making conscious, and sometimes political, choices. This positioning made questioning her methods or motivations appear equivalent to questioning God himself. The manufacturing of Mother Teresa's image relied heavily on media cooperation. Journalists rarely applied standard scrutiny to her statements or actions, instead perpetuating the narrative of selfless service. Even when she made controversial political statements or associated with corrupt figures, media coverage remained overwhelmingly reverential. This selective reporting created a circular effect where her saintly reputation precluded critical examination, and the absence of criticism further cemented her saintly status. Through careful documentation, Hitchens demonstrates how this manufactured image became self-sustaining. The public, once invested in the myth of Mother Teresa, became resistant to contrary evidence. Her simplistic statements on complex issues were treated as profound wisdom precisely because they came from someone already established as wise and holy. This phenomenon demonstrates how powerful figures can become effectively immune to criticism once a particular narrative about them takes hold in public consciousness.

Chapter 2: Marketing Poverty: The Economics of Mother Teresa's Mission

Mother Teresa's organization, the Missionaries of Charity, accumulated vast sums of money through donations while maintaining an image of austere poverty. According to Susan Shields, who worked within the order for nearly a decade, a single checking account in the Bronx held approximately $50 million, while other accounts existed worldwide. Despite this wealth, the organization consistently pleaded poverty when soliciting additional donations and provided minimal material comfort to either the patients they served or their own nuns. The economics of Mother Teresa's mission operated under peculiar principles that privileged religious doctrine over practical aid. When faced with choices between improving medical care and maintaining an appearance of asceticism, the latter invariably prevailed. Dr. Robin Fox, editor of The Lancet, reported in 1994 that Mother Teresa's facilities lacked proper diagnostic procedures, adequate pain management, and basic medical protocols. Volunteer Mary Loudon observed reused needles merely rinsed under cold water and patients with treatable conditions allowed to die without appropriate medical intervention. The organization actively refused to implement improvements that would have reduced suffering, even when resources were readily available. This apparent contradiction stemmed from Mother Teresa's fundamental philosophy about suffering. Rather than seeing pain as something to be alleviated, she viewed it as spiritually beneficial, famously telling one terminal cancer patient in excruciating pain, "You are suffering like Christ on the cross. So Jesus must be kissing you." When the patient replied, "Then please tell him to stop kissing me," the dark irony of this approach to care became evident. The economic model prioritized expansion of the order and conversion opportunities over effective relief of suffering. The relationship between donations and expenditures remained deliberately opaque. No public audits were conducted, and sisters working within the organization were forbidden from discussing financial matters. When Malcolm Muggeridge once directed funds to Mother Teresa, she spent the money on a chalice and ciborium for her new novitiate rather than on patient care. When questioned, she explained that he would be "daily on the altar close to the Body of Christ" — a response that satisfied Muggeridge but revealed the true priorities of the mission. Perhaps most tellingly, the Missionaries of Charity actively rejected improvements that would have enhanced comfort for minimal cost. Susan Shields described how, upon receiving a convent in San Francisco, the sisters immediately removed comfortable furnishings, pulled up carpeting, pushed mattresses out windows, and turned off heating during winter, leading to tuberculosis among the nuns. In another instance, they abandoned plans for a home for the homeless in the Bronx solely because they refused to install an elevator for disabled access, even when the city offered to pay for it. The economics of Mother Teresa's mission thus reveals a fundamental disconnect between public perception and operational reality. While marketed as an organization dedicated to alleviating poverty, its actual economic model perpetuated spartan conditions even when unnecessary, accumulated vast reserves of wealth while projecting an image of poverty, and subordinated physical care to religious objectives. This approach transformed suffering from something to be relieved into a marketable commodity that generated donations and publicity.

Chapter 3: Political Alliances: Religious Fundamentalism in Secular Disguise

Despite her carefully cultivated image as being "beyond politics," Mother Teresa consistently engaged in political activities that advanced conservative Catholic doctrine and aligned with right-wing political movements. Her interventions in political matters were strategic and invariably supported conservative positions, particularly regarding reproductive rights. In Ireland in 1992, she openly campaigned against abortion and contraception, declaring, "Let us promise Our Lady who loves Ireland so much that we will never allow in this country a single abortion. And no contraceptives." This statement revealed her willingness to impose Catholic doctrine on entire societies, including non-Catholics. Mother Teresa's political alliances frequently included dictators and corrupt leaders. In Haiti, she publicly praised the Duvalier regime, one of the most notoriously brutal dictatorships of the 20th century. During a 1981 visit, she was filmed embracing Michèle Duvalier, stating that while she had met many world leaders, she had "never seen the poor people being so familiar with their head of state as they were with her. It was a beautiful lesson for me." For this endorsement, she received Haiti's Legion of Honor, and her testimony was broadcast on state television for a week. She never retracted these statements, even after the Duvaliers fled Haiti with much of the national treasury. Her relationship with Albanian dictator Enver Hoxha similarly demonstrated her political pragmatism. Though Hoxha had established the "world's first atheist state" and brutally suppressed religion, Mother Teresa visited Albania in 1990, placed flowers at the "Mother Albania" monument (a symbol of Albanian irredentism), and laid a bouquet on Hoxha's grave. Throughout this visit, she never uttered a word of criticism about the regime's religious persecution. This apparent contradiction between her Catholic identity and her homage to an anti-religious dictator makes sense primarily through the lens of Albanian nationalism, revealing how ethnic and political allegiances sometimes superseded her religious commitments. In Western democracies, Mother Teresa maintained equally political relationships with conservative leaders. She met privately with Margaret Thatcher in 1988, ostensibly to discuss London's homeless but actually to strategize about abortion legislation pending in Parliament. In 1985, she received the Presidential Medal of Freedom from Ronald Reagan, praising him effusively for his policies toward Ethiopia despite widespread criticism of those policies for exacerbating famine conditions. She visited Nicaragua during the Contra war and criticized the Sandinista government while remaining silent about the CIA-backed Contras' targeting of schools, clinics, and civilian infrastructure. Mother Teresa's political interventions demonstrated a consistent pattern: public condemnation of left-wing governments regardless of their social policies, public support for right-wing regimes regardless of human rights abuses, and relentless advocacy against reproductive rights in all contexts. When visiting Guatemala during its genocidal campaign against indigenous populations, she remarked, "Everything was peaceful in the parts of the country we visited. I do not get involved in that sort of politics." This selective blindness to conservative political violence while actively opposing progressive policies revealed the fundamentally political nature of her mission. The portrayal of Mother Teresa as apolitical served as effective cover for what was, in reality, a consistent advancement of Vatican positions on sexuality, reproduction, and secular governance. By claiming to be "beyond politics" while engaging in highly political activities, she exemplified what Hitchens calls "antipolitics" — the ultimately political act of denying one's own political nature while advancing specific political agendas.

Chapter 4: Medical Neglect: Suffering as Spiritual Virtue

The Missionaries of Charity facilities consistently maintained medical practices that fell dramatically below professional standards, even when resources for improvement were readily available. Dr. Robin Fox, editor of the prestigious medical journal The Lancet, visited Mother Teresa's operation in Calcutta in 1994 and documented disturbing deficiencies. He noted the absence of proper diagnostic testing, inadequate pain management protocols, and resistance to implementing even basic medical algorithms that could guide treatment decisions. When questioned about these practices, staff explained that "systematic approaches are alien to the ethos of the home" and that "Mother Teresa prefers providence to planning." This neglect extended beyond mere administrative shortcomings to active practices that increased patient suffering. Mary Loudon, who volunteered in Calcutta, described conditions reminiscent of "Belsen and places like that," with patients given only aspirin for the pain of terminal cancer. She witnessed nuns reusing needles after merely rinsing them under cold tap water. When she questioned this practice, she was told sterilization was unnecessary because "there's no point. There's no time." In another instance, Loudon observed that a fifteen-year-old boy with a treatable kidney condition was denied hospital transfer because "if they do it for one, they do it for everybody" — a bizarre rationale considering the organization's substantial financial resources. Mother Teresa's approach to suffering represented not neglect born of resource constraints but a deliberate philosophy that valued suffering as spiritually beneficial. She explicitly told patients that their pain brought them closer to Christ, famously telling one patient in agony that Jesus was "kissing" them through their suffering. This theological perspective transformed inadequate medical care from a failing into a feature of the mission, as suffering was reconceived as a path to salvation rather than a condition to be alleviated. The contradiction between the order's financial capacity and its medical practices became particularly stark regarding pain management. Despite having ample funds to provide proper analgesics, Mother Teresa's facilities notoriously lacked effective pain medication. Dr. Fox specifically noted in his Lancet report that "the formulary includes no strong analgesics," distinguishing Mother Teresa's approach from the modern hospice movement, which emphasizes pain relief even when cure is impossible. This deliberate withholding of pain relief aligned with Mother Teresa's statement that "the world is being much helped by the suffering of the poor people" — suggesting that the suffering of her patients served a larger spiritual purpose. Even basic improvements that would not have compromised the order's religious mission were rejected. In San Francisco, former volunteer Elgy Gillespie reported that men in the AIDS hospice were denied television, smoking privileges, alcohol, and visits from friends — even when dying. These restrictions appeared designed to maximize isolation and suffering rather than provide comfort. Another volunteer described how a Guatemalan patient begged not to return to Mother Teresa's facility because "he knew they didn't medicate enough, or properly, and was afraid he would have to die without morphine." This approach to medical care represented not merely substandard practice but a fundamentally different conception of what constitutes care itself. While modern medicine aims to relieve suffering and extend life where possible, Mother Teresa's facilities operated on the principle that suffering held spiritual value and that physical comfort was secondary to salvation. This philosophy might be defensible as a personal choice, but it was imposed on vulnerable patients who had little understanding that the "care" they received was guided by theological rather than medical principles.

Chapter 5: Financial Contradictions: Following the Money Trail

The financial operations of Mother Teresa's Missionaries of Charity exhibited striking contradictions between public perception and actual practice. Despite her claim to Muggeridge that "we cannot work for the rich; neither can we accept any money for the work we do," her organization actively solicited and accepted enormous sums from wealthy individuals, corporations, and governments. These contributions included numerous prestigious awards with substantial monetary prizes: the Indian government's Prize of the Miraculous Lotus, the Vatican's John XXIII Prize for Peace, Prince Philip's Templeton Prize (£34,000), the International Balzan Prize (250,000 lire), and culminating in the 1979 Nobel Peace Prize with its significant financial component. Beyond formal prizes, Mother Teresa accepted donations from morally questionable sources without apparent concern for their origins. When Charles Keating, later convicted in the massive Savings and Loan scandal for defrauding thousands of small investors, donated $1.25 million to her organization and provided his private jet for her use, she accepted without hesitation. During Keating's trial, she wrote to Judge Lance Ito requesting clemency, claiming ignorance of Keating's business dealings. This prompted prosecutor Paul Turley to write her a detailed letter explaining that Keating had stolen from thousands of vulnerable people, including "a poor carpenter who did not speak English and had his life savings stolen." Turley challenged Mother Teresa to "ask yourself what Jesus would do if he were given the fruits of a crime" and requested she return the stolen money to its rightful owners. Three years later, she had not responded, nor had the money been returned. The accumulation of donations created vast financial reserves that remained largely unused for their ostensible purpose. Susan Shields, who worked within the organization for nine years, revealed that "around $50 million had collected in one checking account in the Bronx" alone. Despite this wealth, sisters were instructed to project poverty when soliciting additional donations. Shields explained that "the donations rolled in and were deposited in the bank, but they had no effect on our ascetic lives or on the lives of the poor we were trying to help." The organization operated on a bizarre principle that accumulating money while maintaining artificial austerity somehow served a spiritual purpose. Mother Teresa's order maintained deliberate secrecy around its finances, with no public accounting of income or expenditures. Sisters working in the financial office "understood that we were not to speak about our work," according to Shields. This lack of transparency made it impossible to track whether donations actually benefited the intended recipients. When donated goods did arrive, they were sometimes rejected if they would improve comfort levels too much. In one instance, Shields described how a large quantity of tomatoes given to the Rome novitiate was canned for winter use, prompting Mother Teresa's displeasure because "Missionaries of Charity do not store things but must rely only on God's providence." This financial approach reflected not simple frugality but a systematic philosophy that privileged appearance over effectiveness. When Malcolm Muggeridge once directed money to Mother Teresa, she spent it on altar decorations rather than patient care, demonstrating that religious symbolism took priority over practical assistance. This pattern persisted throughout the organization, with donations frequently directed toward expanding the religious order rather than improving conditions for those they ostensibly served. The financial contradictions within Mother Teresa's mission reveal a fundamental disconnect between donor intent and organizational priorities. While contributors believed they were funding improved care for the destitute, their money often supported religious expansion, remained unused in bank accounts, or funded politically aligned activities. This system operated effectively because the organization's carefully cultivated image of poverty and self-sacrifice discouraged questions about financial management and accountability.

Chapter 6: Global Influence: Strategic Interventions and Selective Morality

Mother Teresa's global influence extended far beyond Calcutta, allowing her to shape public discourse on moral issues through carefully timed interventions that demonstrated remarkable political acumen. Her public statements often coincided with critical political moments, despite her insistence that she remained "above politics." In 1984, immediately following the Bhopal industrial disaster that killed thousands through Union Carbide's negligence, she flew to the site and, when asked for her counsel to the victims' families, offered a single word: "Forgive." This intervention effectively redirected moral outrage away from corporate accountability and toward personal spiritual responses, serving to defuse potential demands for justice. Her global appearances revealed a pattern of selective moral concern that consistently aligned with conservative political interests. When visiting Madrid during Spain's post-Franco transition to democracy, she lent her presence to right-wing forces opposing legislation on divorce, abortion, and contraception. Her London visit in 1988, ostensibly about homelessness, culminated in a private meeting with Margaret Thatcher to discuss abortion legislation pending in Parliament. In Washington, she accepted the Presidential Medal of Freedom from Ronald Reagan in 1985, praising him for "loving the people so tenderly" despite widespread criticism of his administration's policies toward the poor and marginalized. Mother Teresa's selective morality became particularly evident in her approach to different political regimes. In Nicaragua, she publicly criticized the Sandinista government while remaining silent about the CIA-backed Contras who targeted civilian infrastructure. In Guatemala, amid well-documented genocide against indigenous populations, she claimed to see only peace: "Everything was peaceful in the parts of the country we visited. I do not get involved in that sort of politics." Yet in Ethiopia, she embraced General Mengistu's regime despite its deliberate use of starvation as a weapon against dissidents. This pattern of condemning leftist governments while embracing rightist ones, regardless of human rights records, revealed the fundamentally political nature of her moral pronouncements. Her global influence was magnified by media reverence that rarely questioned her statements or actions. This media deference created a self-reinforcing cycle: her saintly reputation discouraged critical examination, and the lack of criticism further cemented her saintly status. Even when making simplistic pronouncements on complex issues, such as telling Ann Landers that people should "smile more" to make the world better, her words were treated as profound wisdom rather than platitudes because they came from someone already established as wise and holy. Perhaps most significantly, Mother Teresa's global influence allowed her to advance religious positions on reproduction and sexuality in secular contexts. She consistently opposed contraception and abortion in all circumstances, including for rape victims in Bangladesh and Bosnia. At the 1994 UN World Population Conference in Cairo, the Vatican allied with Iran's Islamic government against population control measures, with Mother Teresa serving as a prominent voice opposing reproductive rights. Her ability to insert religious doctrine into policy discussions while being perceived as a humanitarian rather than a religious advocate represented a powerful form of influence. Mother Teresa's global reach thus operated through a combination of carefully chosen interventions, selective moral outrage, and the cultivation of media deference. By positioning herself as beyond politics while consistently advancing specific political positions, she exemplified what Hitchens calls "antipolitics" — the ultimately political act of denying one's own political nature while advancing a definite political agenda under the guise of moral authority.

Chapter 7: The Vatican's Proxy: Advancing Conservative Catholic Doctrine

Mother Teresa functioned effectively as a diplomatic and doctrinal proxy for the Vatican, advancing conservative Catholic positions on sexuality and reproduction in contexts where direct papal intervention might have appeared too overtly religious or political. While maintaining the appearance of independent humanitarian work, she consistently promoted the most traditional interpretations of Catholic teaching, particularly regarding what the Church terms "sexual morality." At a 1989 International Health Organization luncheon, she spoke at length against contraception and described AIDS as seeming like "a just retribution for improper sexual conduct," expressing views entirely aligned with the Vatican's most conservative wing. Her public statements on reproduction routinely prioritized religious doctrine over humanitarian considerations. When addressing the Nobel committee after receiving the Peace Prize in 1979, she declared abortion "the worst evil, and the greatest enemy of peace," equating it with direct infanticide. This absolutist position mirrored the Vatican's stance that equates all abortions at any stage with murder, rejecting distinctions between early and late-term procedures. Similarly, when mass rapes occurred during conflicts in Bangladesh and Bosnia, Mother Teresa joined Pope John Paul II in urging victims not to abort pregnancies resulting from these assaults, prioritizing doctrinal purity over the trauma of the women involved. Mother Teresa's utility to the Vatican increased during a period of significant internal Church dissent. Following the Second Vatican Council, Catholic communities worldwide increasingly questioned traditional teachings on celibacy, contraception, and the role of women in the Church. In Latin America, liberation theology threatened the Church hierarchy by emphasizing social justice over institutional authority. In this context, Mother Teresa served as a powerful conservative counterweight – a celebrated figure who unflinchingly upheld traditional doctrines while enjoying global admiration. Pope John Paul II, who accelerated the canonization process dramatically during his papacy, clearly recognized her value in this regard. Her alignment with Vatican interests extended to geopolitical matters. When visiting Albania in 1990, she paid homage at the grave of Communist dictator Enver Hoxha despite his brutal suppression of religion, an action explicable primarily through her Albanian nationalism and the Vatican's broader political calculations regarding Eastern Europe during Communism's collapse. Her support for right-wing regimes in Central America aligned with the Vatican's opposition to liberation theology in the region. During the Balkan conflicts, her Albanian identity made her a symbol for Catholic interests in an area where religious and ethnic identities were violently contested. The Vatican's investment in Mother Teresa's public image became evident in the accelerated process toward her beatification and eventual canonization. Pope John Paul II waived the traditional five-year waiting period after her death before beginning the canonization process and abolished the position of "Devil's Advocate" that historically challenged candidates' qualifications for sainthood. Christopher Hitchens himself was asked to present evidence against her canonization, serving "pro bono" as an unofficial devil's advocate in a process clearly designed to reach a predetermined conclusion. Mother Teresa's value to the Vatican lay precisely in her ability to advance religious positions while appearing to speak from humanitarian rather than doctrinal motivations. By putting a compassionate face on rigid theological positions regarding sexuality, reproduction, and suffering, she helped make conservative Catholic doctrine more palatable to non-Catholic audiences. Her global prestige allowed the Church to project influence into secular societies and international organizations in ways that direct papal pronouncements could not achieve, making her an invaluable asset in advancing the Vatican's most conservative interpretations of Catholic teaching.

Summary

The enduring mythology surrounding Mother Teresa represents a triumph of image over substance, revealing how uncritical reverence can prevent examination of even the most celebrated humanitarian figures. Through systematic analysis of her statements, actions, and organizational practices, it becomes clear that Mother Teresa's mission prioritized religious conversion and doctrinal compliance over effective relief of suffering. The contradiction between her carefully cultivated image of humble service and her actual practice of accepting funds from corrupt sources, providing substandard medical care, and advancing conservative political agendas exposes the danger of elevating any individual beyond critical scrutiny. This critical examination transcends the particular case of Mother Teresa to illuminate broader patterns in how society creates and sustains modern saints. When emotional appeal and religious sentiment shield public figures from rational assessment, we sacrifice our ability to evaluate the actual consequences of their work for those they claim to serve. The persistence of Mother Teresa's unchallenged reputation despite substantial contrary evidence demonstrates how powerful cultural narratives can overwhelm factual reality, particularly when those narratives align with existing power structures in religion and politics. By questioning the unquestionable, we reclaim the essential right to judge all public figures by their actions rather than by their carefully constructed personas.

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Christopher Hitchens

Christopher Hitchens was a British-American author, journalist, and literary critic known for his sharp wit, polemical writing, and outspoken views on religion, politics, and culture. He was a prolific essayist and columnist, contributing to publications such as The Atlantic, Vanity Fair, Slate, and The Nation.A staunch critic of totalitarianism and organized religion, Hitchens became one of the most prominent public intellectuals of his time. His book God Is Not Great: How Religion Poisons Everything (2007) became a bestseller and solidified his place as a leading figure in the New Atheism movement. He was equally fearless in political criticism, taking on figures across the ideological spectrum, from Henry Kissinger (The Trial of Henry Kissinger, 2001) to Bill and Hillary Clinton (No One Left to Lie To, 1999).Originally a socialist and supporter of left-wing causes, Hitchens later distanced himself from the left, particularly after the September 11 attacks, when he became a vocal advocate for the U.S. invasion of Iraq. His ideological shift, combined with his formidable debating skills, made him a controversial yet highly respected figure.Hitchens was also known for his literary criticism, writing extensively on figures such as George Orwell, Thomas Jefferson, and Karl Marx. His memoir, Hitch-22 (2010), reflected on his personal and intellectual journey.In 2010, he was diagnosed with esophageal cancer but continued to write and speak publicly until his death in 2011. His fearless engagement with ideas, incisive arguments, and commitment to reason remain influential long after his passing.

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