An incident this week where a church leader's car was hit by gunmen and his bodyguard killed in Uganda has reignited the touchy debate on how the State and church ought to relate.
It emerged the slain aide was a top army officer assigned by the government to protect Pastor Aloysius Bugingo, an unapologetic political ally of President Yoweri Museveni.
With calls mounting to have those behind the attack nailed, there are concerns as to why an 'ordinary' cleric would be given special security paid for by taxpayers. It turns out Bugingo has huge following and often uses his sermons to vilify the Ugandan opposition.
Listening to his fellow clergymen in Kampala and looking at reactions online throughout the week, opinion remains divided over the extent to which top church leaders should criticise or cheerlead top political leaders, their parties and inner circles. This debate reminds us of opinionated clergymen in modern-day history like Emmanuel Makandiwa of Zimbabwe, Archbishop Thomas Msusa of Malawi, Bishop Desmond Tutu of South Africa and Kenya's Alexander Muge, Henry Okulu and Ndingi Mwana Nzeki who, depending on how one sees them, stirred the honest nest at one point or another.
In the 90's, Archbishop Msusa and other Catholic clerics penned a stinging letter headlined 'new ills in our country' accusing Malawi's Kamuzu Banda and his Malawi Congress Party of leading the country astray. It gave the country the push it needed to open up space for multiparty era.
Tutu, admired for his grit and consistency, often rallied the church to side with the masses. "If you are neutral in situations of injustice, you have chosen the side of the oppressor," he once warned, likening political elites to elephants stepping on tails of mice.
In Kenya, Muge was a thorn in Kanu's flesh and became a political target just like Mwana Nzeki who had a heart for justice. Okulu of Maseno South Anglican Diocese braved it all in his fierce fight for good governance and formed a 'tsunami' movement called 'Friends of Democracy' that rattled the Nyayo system between 1990 and 1994.
But ominously, the Ugandan shooting has led to more murmurs on how the modern church leadership has mellowed when it comes to conversations around participatory governance, graft, rights abuses, equity, transparency and chiefly, the rule of law. Its voice is dead as a dodo.
Today's clergy stand accused of looking the other way amid numerous 'opaque' issues, including political rifts, state braggadocio, historical injustices and the high cost of living. They don't sow seeds of hope by demanding accountability from leaders in government and opposition on behalf of their desperate flock.
In 2024, religious leaders must be reminded to be the epitome of hope where there's gloom or risk irrelevance. They should have the guts to spiritually police our democracy beyond being 'flower girls' that chant prayers at manifesto launches, home-comings and other political rituals for material gain.
Just as we prayed for rain last year when we faced a sixth consecutive failed rainy season, the religious leadership must pray for itself in all honesty. They recognise their big sway. We need all hands on deck to deliver the promise. Canon Sammy Wainaina is right that greed, bigotry and fat envelops won't succor the Kenyan society.
Martin Luther King Jnr warned that clerics who focus on souls but ignore the issues that cripple them are 'dry-as-dust' endeavours. And Archbishop of San Salvador Oscar Romero said when prelates hear cries of the oppressed, they cannot but denounce social structures that perpetuate misery from which the cries arise.
This year, let our clergy bring back the Muge, Okulu and Nzeki moment. Let them say something better than silence to dispel the fear of being timid or sellouts. The men and women of cloth must end the camouflage. It is dangerously eroding their credibility.
-The writer is a communications practitioner. X: @markoloo
