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Growing Up With Jaramogi: Some Radical Memories

12 min read.

Jaramogi was that lonely voice in the wilderness of the struggle for democracy in Kenya.

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Growing Up With Jaramogi: Some Radical Memories

Jaramogi Oginga Odinga did not get to occupy State House. It is a useful fate of heroes in many countries. History records that the few that have managed to occupy the highest office in any land on the African continent have been either assassinated or overthrown from power and exiled; Thomas Sankara, Kwame Nkrumah and Patrice Lumumba come to mind. The idea of heroines and heroes who reign and rule is captured in the notion of the “People’s President” and the “Leader of the People’s Opposition”, both roles being undertaken by people who reign and rule, albeit not constitutionally and legally. They may reign and rule economically, spiritually, socially, and morally. They are oppositional figures who invariably build a formidable following that makes them and a perpetual thorn in the political backside of the status quo. For some, their rise to prominence and authority can be meteoric and short-lived, for others it can exist until they die. Kenya’s Jaramogi reigned and ruled until his death in January 1994.

I first saw Jaramogi at Kalundu Market in Kitui Town in 1959 when I was 12 years old. The airlifts to the US were in full swing. Justus Kalewa Ndoto, a former Permanent Secretary in the Kenyan government, had been accepted at a university in America for further studies. Our Member of the Legislative Council of Kenya (LEGCO), Hon. James Nzau Muimi had organized a fundraising event for Ndoto and had invited his fellow LEGCO members to the fundraiser. Jaramogi was one of those who honoured the invitation. I decided to go to the event together with a few of my schoolmates. We knew the names of the first African members of LEGCO, thanks to our rigorous primary school course on civics. This course was about who was who in Kitui, namely the District Commissioners, the District Officers, the headmaster of Kitui Secondary School, the Heads of Police and Prisons, the Medical Officer of Health, and religious leaders. The election of Africans to the LEGCO in 1957 had trumped these local Kitui notables and dignitaries. The scope of the civics class was extended to connect political issues in the native reserve to those in Nairobi.

As the fundraiser began, I was able recognise the politicians present from the photographs in the East African Standard newspaper that my uncle, who I lived in Kitui town, bought every day. But I struggled to locate Jaramogi among the dignitaries; he had taken a sit with the Wenyenchi before he was invited to the rostrum. When he got onto the rostrum, I saw that like me and my buddies, he was wearing Akala shoes made from old tyres and was dressed in his famous “Mao Zedong” outfit (the top had some resemblance to Mao’s tunic but Jaramogi wore elongated shorts instead of trousers). He greeted all present by waving his flywhisk. I was instantly impressed and inspired by Jaramogi and I believe it had a lot to do with the shoes, his outfit, and his stories (now you know where Raila Odinga’s kitendawilis/riddles come from) which made him a perfect Kitui peasant, a man of the people. The other LEGCO members were Asungu/wazungu, clad in suits and ties. We loved the man who dressed like us! I read everything that Jaramogi was reported to have said in the East African Standard. My habit of reading Jaramogi’s speeches did not decline with the release of Jomo Kenyatta in 1961, whose speech I heard at Donholm Stadium on my first visit to Nairobi the same year; Kenyatta’s attack on racism and colonial segregation in Kenya was as superb as it was persuasive to my ears.

Little is known about Jaramogi’s airlifts to India, the Union of Soviet Socialist Republics (USSR), and Eastern Europe; one had to read Jaramogi’s Not Yet Uhuru to get the story. Tom Mboya’s airlifts to the US received more media coverage. This was also the era of the Cold War and the ideological differences between Jaramogi and Mboya that existed within the Kenya African National Union (KANU) were not as pronounced as they were to become later in the 60s decade.

In Kitui Secondary School (1962-1965), we were not spared the politics of independence that were reflected both in the papers and in reality when politicians came to Kitui town. One of the political meetings was held on Kitui Secondary School’s soccer field and that was my first time to see Tom Mboya at very close range. Jomo Kenyatta also visited Kitui after his release from detention and addressed the people of Kitui at the Ithookwe Agricultural Show Ground.

Little is known about Jaramogi’s airlifts to India, the Union of Soviet Socialist Republics (USSR), and Eastern Europe.

I would say most students were members of Kenya African National Union (KANU). I was part of the “Youth for KANU!” of which the Youth for KANU of the 1990s was but a pale shadow. Jaramogi was my hero. Moreover, I was convinced that the Kenya African Democratic Union (KADU) was for colonialism and white settler domination in Kenya; the small town of Kitui was also an epicentre of colonialism with colonial segregation and so KANU’s nationalist and anti-colonial politics resonated with many of the students at Kitui Secondary School. I remember how we celebrated KANU’s victory in the elections and the formation of the so-called internal government of 1 June 1963 (the first Madaraka Day) in which Jaramogi became Jomo Kenyatta’s deputy. Fourteen months after independence, I joined Strathmore College of Arts and Science in the Lavington suburb of Nairobi, the first multi-racial and multi-ethnic college in Kenya. Strathmore was founded in 1961, although the founders were already in the country when I first saw Jaramogi in Kitui.

At Strathmore College, I met a young man who actually worshipped Jaramogi. My classmate in the Arts, Onginy’o Ogutu, had a huge photograph of Jaramogi before which he would prostrate himself before going to bed. I did not know whether he actually worshipped Jaramogi or simply prayed for him, or both. Another classmate, Eliud Thini Waiyaki, who shared a room with Ogutu and two others, would tell of Ogutu’s dedication to worship and prayer – in his room or when he had access to the college chapel. Ogutu was a confident student who became a college mate at the University of Dar es Salaam, and a boxer of note. It was the political scene in Kenya that turned Ogutu’s drama, worship, or prayer into a national ideological and political contestation since independence.

The KANU Limuru Conference was held in 1966 against the backdrop of the Cold War and the ideological and political conflicts within KANU. Bolstered by KADU, the political party that was pro-British colonialism and white settlers in Kenya, KANU’s right wing decided to purge the party of its leftist radicals. Pio Gama Pinto, the ideological and political leader of the left had been assassinated on 24 February 1965. William Attwood, the first American Ambassador to Kenya, wrote about the KANU Limuru Conference in his book, The Reds and the Blacks: A Personal Adventure. So did Jaramogi in Not Yet Uhuru: The Autobiography of Oginga Odinga, published in the same year as Attwood’s, with a foreword by Kwame Nkrumah. The Conference abolished the party’s post of vice-president, which Jaramogi held, and replaced it with eight provincial vice-presidents, signaling to Jaramogi the political truth of the Kiswahili saying Afukuzwaye haambiwi toka, those who wish to expel you do not tell you “get out”. Jaramogi left KANU and formed his Kenya People’s Union (KPU). He became president of KPU with Bildad Kaggia as his deputy.

The majority of my classmates at Strathmore College supported KPU. Its radical social democratic ideology and politics appealed to me and to many others. KPU’s Manifesto reflected the ideology and politics of Not Yet Uhuru, setting the political stage for ideological and political contestation with the rightist, pro-Western imperialism KANU. Issues of foreign interests and their domination, oppression, and exploitation of Kenya featured. The issue of land was taken up by KPU with radical solutions advanced. Some of the ideological and political positions of the KPU Manifesto touched on the protection of the constitution, commitment to socialism, African traditions and culture, land, agriculture, employment, civil service, corruption, education, teachers, technical and commercial education, and university education.

The KANU Limuru Conference was held in 1966 against the backdrop of the Cold War and the ideological and political conflicts within KANU.

Leftist scholars at the University of Nairobi, such as Ngugi wa Thiong’o, were supportive of KPU’s ideas and political opposition. For me and other students, the material in the KPU Manifesto and the ideological and political struggles that followed radicalized us. This material incited and excited us intellectually, ideologically, and politically. For me it was a great preparation for my university education at Dar es Salaam University where I developed my intellectual, ideological, and political pursuits more fully.

KANU decided to crash KPU with the full support of Western imperialists. Kenyatta visited Kisumu in 1969, ostensibly to open Nyanza General Hospital, which had been built with aid from the USSR. Kenyatta verbally attacked and provoked Jaramogi who responded in kind. There ensued what is correctly referred to as the Kisumu massacre. The official number of people killed in that massacre is 22. In his book The Flame of Freedom, Raila Odinga, argues that more than 100 people were criminally massacred.

The massacre took place while I was a law student at the University of Dar es Salaam. The president of Kenyan Students at Dar (KENSAD), Emmanuel Okello O’Kubasu (who later served as a magistrate, rising to become a judge of the Court of Appeal in the Kenyan Judiciary) convened an urgent meeting of Kenyan students at the University of Dar es Salaam and we sent a telegram to Jomo Kenyatta’s government condemning the massacre. Jaramogi and his KPU leadership were detained (by this time Bildad Kaggia had resigned from KPU after facing several assassination attempts).

Jaramogi visited the University of Dar es Salaam in 1968 as the Leader of the Opposition in Kenya. As was to be expected of the activist students in Dar, he was received by a full house at Nkrumah Hall. Amos S. Wako (former Attorney-General of Kenya and now Senator for Busia County) welcomed Jaramogi with the KPU slogan Dume! Dume! Bull! Bull! – the KPU’s clarion call during the 1966 by-elections was Bull-Freedom-Socialism; the bull was the party’s symbol during the by-elections). Jaramogi gave a very radical speech on African unity, regional unity, and the continuing struggles against imperialism. Many of us had read his autobiography and many of the questions he answered were about the invisible government that he describes in one of the chapters in his autobiography. As usual, Jaramogi was my hero; this time he was clad in his “Mao Zedong” outfit but with trousers in place of the pair of shorts. I reflected warmly on when I had first seen him in this outfit, in Kitui, 9 years earlier. Jaramogi became one of the many leftist leaders, political oppositionists, freedom fighters and armed strugglers to visit the Mecca of Revolution, the University of Dar es Salaam!

Jaramogi was detained at Hola Prison for 18 months. This was the prison where 11 Mau Mau detainees were massacred by the British colonial government on 3 March 1959. I was detained in Hola for a month (February-March) in 1983. That Jaramogi survived Hola for 18 months has always been a fact for my glorification of his patriotism, courage, radical unbowed spirit, and his determination not to die in detention so that he could continue the struggles to liberate Kenya. Jaramogi planted five trees in the compound outside one of the cells. Hola is a very hot place and I have never forgotten the comfort I enjoyed under the shade of Jaramogi’s trees in that inhumane and hot environment. I must say I was better off than my prison warders who were always in full uniform. Luckily, one of Jaramogi’s trees was right at the gate of the compound where they could sit and remove their boots. Whenever their bosses visited me, it was a scene to behold as they hurriedly put on their oppressive boots and shirts. Among the uninvited guests in the compound were snakes and scorpions. As well as enjoying the shade of Jaramogi’s trees, hearing the sound of the Adhan five times a day from the Mosque in nearby Laza town on the banks of Tana River, was a great comfort.

After Daniel arap Moi succeeded Jomo Kenyatta as the president of Kenya on 22 August 1978, he asked Jaramogi to head the Cotton and Lint Board. Jaramogi accepted this offer. A debate that ensued about Jaramogi’s acceptance of the post; some thought that he had compromised his ideological and political views. I had no doubt he had not. My view was validated when Jaramogi returned to the issue of land grabbing, accusing Jomo Kenyatta of this crime whereupon Moi relieved him his of his parastatal job. Jaramogi remained in the trenches of struggle.

One of the political actions by Jaramogi that I will never forget was during the brutal KANU-Moi dictatorship in the 1980s. At that time, Moi had managed to silence all forms of dissent. His party KANU had also compromised the Central Organization of Trade Unions (COTU), Maendeleo ya Wanawake, and the University of Nairobi, a site of serious opposition and dissent where the University Staff Union was banned in July 1980 and student leaders and activists were either jailed or forced into exile.

Hola is a very hot place and I have never forgotten the comfort I enjoyed under the shade of Jaramogi’s trees in that inhumane and hot environment.

Underground opposition became the norm as evidenced by the December 12 Movement and MWAKENYA. Jaramogi was that lonely voice in the wilderness of struggle for democracy in Kenya. He did not fear the dictatorship; after all they had done to him, there was nothing else they could do short of assassinating him. The KANU-Jomo Kenyatta dictatorship had detained him. The KANU-Moi dictatorship had placed him under house arrest. It was under these circumstances that in his shrill voice he told Moi in Bondo that he did not own the title deeds to Kenya, our Motherland. That speech gave me great revolutionary oxygen, as I believe it did other revolutionaries and radicals.

Jaramogi was at the centre of the Second Liberation, the quest for the return to multi-party democracy. He led the Forum for the Restoration of Democracy (FORD)  in Kenya which did much of the agitation and mobilization of the masses for the repeal of section 2A of the Constitution that had decreed, in 1982, that KANU was the only political party in Kenya. Jaramogi’s leadership resulted in the repeal of that section in 1991.

I felt that I had to become one of Jaramogi’s foot soldiers and the Law Society of Kenya was the perfect civil society organization for the struggle. In his inaugural speech in March 1990, Paul Muite, the President of the Law Society of Kenya (I was the Vice-President) called for Jaramogi’s National Development Party (NDP) to be registered. In an address that was as constitutional as it was political, Muite argued that in the constitutional amendment of Section 2A that decreed KANU to be the only political party in Kenya, critical provisions in the constitution remained intact. One of them was freedom of association in the Bill of Rights. Using the constitutional interpretive tool that constitutions must be interpreted holistically, with no single provision subverting another, freedom of association had to be harmonized with Section 2A. Ultimately, Muite argued that the constitution did not decree against the freedom of association and NDP ought to be registered. Muite knew what he was doing. In his constitutional argument he was garnering support from the workers, women, land buying companies, cooperative societies, public intellectuals, all of whom had had their associations and unions either banned or oppressed and intimidated by the KANU-Moi dictatorship. Paul Muite rose to be Jaramogi’s Vice-President in the Original FORD.

It was a very courageous speech that resulted in a mass walk out by invited judges (only Judge Frank Shields remained at that LSK dinner) and the dictatorship turned its guns on the Council of the LSK whose members were Martha Karua, G.B.M. Kariuki, Barnard Mbai, Charles Nyachae, Jeff Shamalla, J.V. Juma, and Jackson Kagwe. We were sued by four of the LSK members: Aaron Ringera, Nancy Baraza, Nesbitt Onyango, Phillip Kandie, and Kokonya Mukololongo.

Jaramogi was that lonely voice in the wilderness of struggle for democracy in Kenya.

We disobeyed the court orders issued to the five members of the LSK to stop us from “engaging in politics”, were found guilty of contempt and fined KSh10,000 each. We refused to pay the fine, with Paul Muite exhorting us and declaring, “We will not go to Kamiti shitting in our pants.” Judge Mwera decided he was not going to send us to prison because that would glorify our struggle. He ordered instead that our properties be attached and auctioned off if we did not pay the fine. The LSK ended up paying the fine for all of us. In this court action, we were able to mobilize the robust support of the International Bar Association and the American Bar Association. Global solidarities work, particularly when you identify where to bring civil society foreign pressure to bear on a dictatorship. I believe, however, that two national factors helped us to stay out of prison: The Law Society Act 1949 gave us much needed legal protection (and continues to do so) and we were the foot soldiers/Young Turks of a great transformative popular political movement led by Jaramogi.

The last time I saw Jaramogi in person was in 1993. I had just been elected president of the LSK and Jaramogi was then the Leader of the Opposition in Parliament. The Council of the LSK requested Jaramogi that we pay him a courtesy call as the Leader of the Opposition and he agreed. Jaramogi met us in his corporate offices at Spectre Limited and his first question was that I be identified so that he could appreciate me as president of the LSK; he made my day. Speaking to us, he spent almost the entire time analysing Moi’s astuteness in politics and what he called Moi’s “native cunning”. The lesson I learnt from Jaramogi in my last meeting with him was never to underestimate one’s political opponents. The strategy must be to find out where their political strengths lay, not their weaknesses. One needed to fight those strengths first.

Global solidarities work, particularly when you identify where to bring civil society foreign pressure to bear on a dictatorship.

Jaramogi died in January 1994. I did not attend his funeral in Bondo. However, I grieved like any of his political orphans. I cheered on Hon. Orengo as, with his usual brilliant oratory, he tore into the hypocrites present at the funeral who had shortened Jaramogi’s life through detentions, house arrests, intimidations, and abuses. (One abuse I remember was Moi’s celebration of Jaramogi’s misfortune as his eyesight dimmed with age. Jaramogi’s response was that it was true he had eyesight problems, but he knew that “some people” had throat cancer and they were up and about. He would be up and about too! Whether Moi had throat cancer then was not the issue, but Jaramogi’s rebuke of Moi warmed the hearts of his followers.)

There are women and men who reign and rule without occupying the apex of political power. Both Malcolm X and Dr Martin Luther King JR did not contest for political office, yet they reigned and ruled in America. Pope Francis has not held any elective political office but he reigns and rules. Desmond Tutu reigned and ruled in South Africa. Mahatma Gandhi reigned and ruled in India. Mekitilili wa Menza and other Kenyan heroines reigned and ruled in Kenya.

Jaramogi sought elective political office, served as member of LEGCO, became Kenya’s Vice-President and Minister for Home Affairs after independence. From 1966 when he formed KPU, he became both the People’s President and the People’s Leader of the Opposition. He reigned and ruled in both positions for 28 years.

May the great spirit of Jaramogi continue to inspire us and the youth of Kenya.

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Dr Willy Mutunga is a public intellectual and former Chief Justice of Kenya.

Long Reads

No More Camp: Confident Despite Contradictions

The “no more” narrative is an opportunistic way to hide the fact that Ethiopia is falling apart, and its leaders are spearheading that process.

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No More Camp: Confident Despite Contradictions

A bizarre political rhetoric that has emerged in the civil and political spaces in Ethiopia and its diaspora since 2020 asserts that the break-up of the Ethiopian state is in the interests of the West, and more specifically the United States.

While the US and other Western powers and institutions have the means of orchestrating such an outcome while exerting their influence over the fate of less powerful nations, I argue here that, in this political moment, such an outcome cannot be in the interests of the US-centred global order as it relates to Ethiopia as such a move would negate all the efforts to build, via successive Ethiopian regimes, a reliable military and political proxy in the Horn of Africa region.

The narrative suggesting that the US is invested in dismembering Ethiopia into several smaller states has been backed by the Ethiopian government and heavily propagated both in Ethiopia and among sections of its diaspora. Based on conversations I have had with people engaged in other liberation struggles inspired by radical and far-left politics, I have come to realise that this narrative has been gaining traction.

During a conversation with a pro-Palestinian liberation group in Nairobi, they stated that they were not sure where to stand on Ethiopia because, according to them, the US was actively trying to affect the nation’s unity. The question that immediately came to mind was: “How can this narrative be true?” I argue here that a sequence of facts and realities, when arranged in a specific order and looked at from a particular angle, supports the emergence of a narrative that is convincing enough to create such a scenario. This narrative does not reflect the complexity of the socio-political crisis Ethiopia is facing, and nor does it provide any radical solution.

One of the most visible manifestations of this rhetoric is the #NoMore campaign. According to an article published on borkena on 21 November 2021, “The #NoMore campaign was created by a coalition of Ethiopian and Eritrean activists led by former Al Jazeera & CBS journalist Hermela Aregawi. Its central objective is to oppose an alleged Western media disinformation campaign, Western economic warfare, diplomatic propaganda, and active military interventions in Africa in general, and possible ones in the Horn of Africa.”

I do not intend to analyse that campaign here but will touch on it by simply referring to the narrative in this introduction as the “no more” camp narrative. The last bit of context that I wish to add is that I often reference the Ethiopian government of 1991-2018 as being TPLF-led (Tigray People’s Liberation Front). With regard to Ethiopia’s diplomatic, geopolitical and broad security operations at the time, I believe that this was mainly a TPLF project, but when it came to the human rights abuses that took place across Oromia, the Oromo People’s Democratic Organisation (OPDO) were co-conspirators and were actively involved in the state violence that characterized Oromia from 1991-2018.

After the fall of the DERG regime—an initially popular communist revolution that turned into a deadly dictatorship—the US made its way into the centre of the negotiations between the TPLF, Eritrean People’s Liberation Front (EPLF), and Oromo Liberation Front (OLF) that took place in London in 1991. In these negotiations, I believe that several options existed regarding political arrangements: the formation of two or more confederate states, the formation of a unitary state, or—what became the adopted path—the formation of a multinational federation. The creation of independent states had been the explicit agenda of the OLF when it was formed some 30 years prior. However, it was the EPLF that achieved this goal during the negotiations.

Historical, cultural, linguistic, and political factors, as well as different nations having different experiences with the Ethiopian state and the process of its formation, were priorities that stakeholders at that table needed to address. A multinational federation, organized along ethnic lines, where governing powers were given to the regimes of these ethnic nation-states while the centre remained lean, peripheral, but present, sounded ideal on paper. But one essential component that would determine this structure’s success was missing in the case of Ethiopia as it embarked on its new chapter, and that was a political elite that was earnestly willing to see such devolution of power.

The Ethiopian People’s Revolutionary Democratic Front (EPRDF) coalition that was formed in the wake of the 1991 negotiations was dominated by the TPLF, and the following 27 years of governance would, in theory, be a multi-national federation, but in practice, an authoritarian, centralized state with regional proxies that enforced a draconian order punishing anyone that embodied nationalisms deviant from Ethiopianism. While the Tegaru people had been victims of the political and cultural centralism of Ethiopianism of previous regimes, the TPLF nonetheless, enforced it as a tool of control, rather than as a tool to facilitate the healthy integration and growth of this new state arrangement formed along the lines of these autonomies. In 1991, the TPLF was the second most powerful military power after the EPLF, and although it claims that altruistic motives drive its engagement in the Global South, in 1991 the US was interested in either further consolidating or expanding its position at the top of the geopolitical ladder—as it still is today.

The US wears well the guise of concern for human rights, this being part of the way in which it asserts its ideological superiority. It is not that US expressions of concern and actions to protect human rights are in and of themselves negative. The “no more” narrative argues that these humanitarian efforts and cries for human rights are often hypocritical because the US is itself an active participant in human rights abuses at home and abroad, and that either its expressions of care or its wilful ignorance of such abuses are always motivated by underlying geopolitical interests. While its backing of the TPLF-led regime in 1991 can be understood from the perspective of realism, sustaining this support for two decades despite consistent evidence of human rights abuses taking place across the country is exactly the kind of hypocrisy that gives the “no more” campaign legs to stand on.

There is a world in which Abiy Ahmed, the current prime minister of Ethiopia, juxtaposed against leaders of the EPRDF, looks very much like the anti-imperialist leader that the non-Western world needs. Abiy Ahmed makes an ideological stance when he remains opposed to human rights-related calls to action from the US, allowing them to fall on deaf ears because it can be reasoned that the US is just exhibiting its habit of lording over the internal affairs of other nations while having blood on its hands.

The US wears well the guise of concern for human rights, this being part of the way in which it asserts its ideological superiority.

Moreover, the US backed multinational federalism in 1991, a political arrangement that Abiy’s regime moved to do away with early on in the transitional period, claiming that it is an invention of ethnic nationalists committed to fostering disunity. This can lead one to another assertion that the “no more” camp makes: that the US’s previous ties with the TPLF are a factor in its current proactiveness within the crisis.

The US-Ethiopia relationship of 1991-2017 is a microcosm of the wider culture of political presence that the US has across the African continent and the rest of the Global South/Eastern world, and if we are talking about significantly less powerful nations (militarily/economically), it also reflects the way the US engages other Western nations. The US has pursued its post-Cold War agenda of consolidating global military and economic dominance by making sure that any regional power that grows, does so under its wing and/or whilst indebted to it.

Along with amassing military and economic power, expecting ideological assimilation is also part of the way the US retains its position as leader over the geopolitical order. To challenge this without sufficient military or economic strength can result in isolating, crippling, or even deadly effects such as in Cuba, Iran and Libya. While taking hit after hit from the US, Abiy has repeatedly asserted that he is resisting the tradition of political manipulation that the US is known for and to protect the right of a developing country to forge its political pathways without interference. He has refused to be swayed by sanctions, a punitive measure that, even if flustering the political and economic elite, usually has far greater impact on the working class of any targeted country. Abiy reinforces what much of Africa sees as Ethiopia’s legacy as a united anti-colonial force, a narrative that itself is full of fallacy. Even if the current Ethiopian context is different (as I will argue below), what lends him credence is that the US approach to Ethiopia has mirrored what it has done in many other parts of the world where, in pursuit of its interests, the US has facilitated the collapse of entire societies in the name of human rights and democracy.

Another narrative that the “no more” camp leans on to create its anti-imperialist façade is the current Ethiopian government’s relationship with Eritrea, while ignoring that Eritrea’s invasion of Tigray and Oromia is an imperial adventure of the Eritrean regime. The Ethio-Eritrean so-called peace deal is hailed as Abiy’s most successful political manoeuvre. The deal falsely propagates the narrative that Abiy’s leadership is the re-emergence of a revolutionary and anti-imperialist vision in Ethiopia because it is at odds with the EPRDF’s hostile military and political relationship with Eritrea. Being on better terms with the west, the EPRDF was widely recognized as the contriver of this hostility, whilst Eritrea was viewed as the victim of it. Although arguing that both regimes have been sanctioned by a geopolitical order that is structurally racist and fascist (which is true), this narrative ignores the fact that Eritrea is a de facto military concentration camp and that its regime is involved in conflicts across the Horn of Africa. Interestingly, among some leftist communities, Eritrea is still perceived as a beacon of revolution because it achieved independence while others opted for a political arrangement endorsed by the US. Abiy uses this narrative to assert his position as a liberationist politician and argues that in targeting his administration, the West is out to the destroy forces of revolution and self-determination in East Africa. It is important to note that the struggle for independence waged by the Eritrean people was truly valiant and revolutionary in nature, although this is not reflected in the country’s leadership today.

Abiy reinforces what much of Africa sees as Ethiopia’s legacy as a united anti-colonial force, a narrative that itself is full of fallacy.

To summarise the picture painted thus far, since the war in Tigray broke out, US calls for action have more or less been aligned with the TPLF’s rhetoric (even though TPLF leaders have also been subjected to US sanctions). A deafening silence on the part of the US regarding the TPLF’s 27-year regime that was toppled in 2018 by popular protests was the norm. The TPLF-dominated governing coalition had completely supported the US’s regional interventions and the relationship that the EPRDF/TPLF had with Eritrea also creates specific storylines. 

These historical facts were and are still used by Abiy’s regime as part of the narrative to justify the current war. According to Abiy’s regime and its supporters, Tegaru aggression is part of an effort to dismantle Ethiopia by advocating for federalism, a system that the US backed in 1991, and that is in opposition to the unitary political vision that Abiy is championing that his supporters believe is the answer to complex questions of identity and nationalism in Ethiopia, and which the TPLF and the OLA/OLF are an enemy of. All of the above, arranged in this or similar sequence, strongly makes the case that the US is indeed interested in Ethiopia’s break up, or, at the very least, is backing the parties that have the intention to tear Ethiopia apart.

So, where and how does this narrative fall short?

US efforts since the beginning of the war in Tigray (because they weren’t interested when the war was waged solely and specifically in Oromia) have been geared towards keeping Ethiopia together as one polity. The reason is that this makes it easier to facilitate its interests in the region, and that, on the contrary, it is the consequences of the federal government and its adversaries warring in the north and south that could lead to Ethiopia’s break up. To be clear, I am not arguing for or against Ethiopia’s break-up here. I believe that, for the multitude of communities in Ethiopia to move forward, it is a decision that must be made by the people and that there is no reason to stubbornly insist on Ethiopia continuing as one polity if the people decide otherwise.

When the federal government launched its assault on Tigray in collaboration with Amhara Special Forces and the Eritrean Defence Forces in November 2020, their narrative was that the TPLF had attacked a government military base and a law and order operation would be launched targeting only the leaders of what they called the “criminal clique”. The TPLF, on the other hand, asserts that they were attacked first. Whatever the truth is, what ensued was an ethnically targeted killing spree by government forces, Eritrean troops, and Amhara militia and regional forces that has seen thousands of Tegaru women raped, thousands of people made refugees and thousands dead. Ninety per cent of Tigray’s population requires food aid while ongoing conflict in areas where land is contested between the Amhara and Tigray regions is exacerbating the crisis and the abuses listed above.

It is important to note that the struggle for independence waged by the Eritrean people was truly valiant and revolutionary in nature.

Moreover, just months into the transitional government process, which was supposed to guide the country towards elections after the fall of the EPRDF government in 2018, Abiy’s regime began its campaign against the OLA, a force that has radically increased in number and activity since the assassination of prominent Oromo singer and activist Haacaaluu Hundeesaa in June 2020. During this campaign, government forces have similarly targeted civilians across Oromia. This war intensified after the announcement of the federal and regional governments’ operation against the OLA in April 2022, with the war witnessing scores of civilian massacres across Oromia and an increase in extrajudicial killings by regional and federal forces.

Prior to the military activity that led to the declaration of war in Tigray by the federal government, the decision by the TPLF to proceed with regional elections—despite national elections having been postponed against the backdrop of a discourse suggesting that they would lack fairness and integrity—agitated an increasingly centralizing state. Even if the TPLF were not invested in nurturing genuine multinational federalism when in power, once they lost power following a four-year-long grassroots protest movement dubbed the “Oromo Protests”, that political arrangement became necessary if they were to retain autonomous power. Thus, Tigray’s regional elections could have had the potential to mature the political centre’s (that is, the power centred in Addis Ababa) relationship to relatively autonomous regions. However, instead, the central government opted to take measures to stamp out this “deviance”. In similar fashion, the mere existence of the OLA, and the simple fact of being an Oromo who represents a strong cultural or political will, reflects the same nationalism that the Abiy regime is unwilling to tolerate, and that we see embodied in the act of holding regional elections in Tigray.

The double-edged sword here is that they are at war because there is—and has been since the inception of Ethiopia as a state—institutional misunderstanding of control as unity, and thus a belief that the existence of divergent national, cultural, and linguistic identities will cause disunity. But it is the very war to stamp out this difference that is edging the Ethiopian state closer to collapse.

Interestingly, the US’s diplomatic silence and inaction when the federal government’s offensive was confined to Oromia, an expedition that was first declared during Abiy’s tenure in early 2020, with Ethiopian National Defence Force leaders stating that they would “send the army to crush remaining rebels within 15 days”, supports assertions made by the “no more camp”, while also nullifying the narrative entirely. Human rights abuses, including extrajudicial killings, massacres, disappearances, arbitrary detention, rape, and sexual violence as a weapon of war have been the norm in Oromia since Abiy took power but this has not been of interest to the US government because, until mid-late 2021, the OLA was not perceived as a military power strong enough to cause any long-term or meaningful destabilization to the state.

Still, even if this pattern of behaviour in the US’s approach supports the assertion that the US only cares about human rights when its interests intersect with blasting the human rights abusers, the OLA’s operations gaining visibility has not warranted a strong or streamlined response to the crisis in Oromia. In my opinion, this is because there is an assumption in Washington that the OLA (representing the largest region and population in Ethiopia) are less inclined to accept political arrangements outside of secession, compared to the TPLF elite—another assumption that rests on the experiences of 1991 and thereafter (although the Tegaru and TPLF contexts differ greatly today given the magnitude of the Tigray genocide). If the US wants to back cessation, it will. Focussing on the government or the military’s human rights abuses is a perfect way for the US administration to back secessionist movements, and when said secession is in the interests of the US for one reason or another, it will deploy all the mechanisms available to it to make it clear that human rights violations are occurring and it must step in like it did in Sudan and South Sudan. The US is not known for its humility when it can use the human rights narrative to pursue its interests; if it wanted Ethiopia to fragment, clear and open support of the OLA would be a textbook move. However, the carefulness and moderation that characterise its approach, when the human rights conditions are some of the worst in the world, strongly suggest that its objective is not Ethiopia’s break-up.

The double-edged sword here is that they are at war because there is—and has been since the inception of Ethiopia as a state—institutional misunderstanding of control as unity.

Imperialism is an issue, and in fact, Ethiopia has a localized manifestation of imperialism that it has yet to address. The anti-imperialist narrative as it relates to the current Ethiopian crisis is a scapegoat for the actual issues that are leading to an inevitable break-up. The war crimes committed daily by an array of actors against anybody that represents an identity that the Ethiopian state considers a threat to its self-image as a cultural, linguistic and religious monolith are paving the way towards the country’s disintegration. I believe that the US backed the formation of a multinational federation in 1991 because it understood that differences needed space to thrive if one polity was to be feasible, and it wanted and needed one large and strong polity in the region with which to collaborate militarily, politically and economically.

Understanding this desire for expansion and consolidation is central to understanding US engagement in 1991 and its subsequent silence as the EPRDF abused power over 27 years. The same reasoning is now informing the US’s current stand regarding the Ethiopian crisis. It does not want to deal with having to reinstate itself as the key neo-power in the region if the country were to break up into many new states—the variables outside of its control would be too many to reckon with—so it is doing what it can to mitigate the crisis. It refuses to admit that there is popular demand for independence within Oromia and Tigray.

One thing the US is doing that could propel the country towards violent disintegration, is watching out for its interests while ignoring the fact that Ethiopia needs to engage in a national dialogue that could result in holding multiple referendums that lead the country either into a chapter of healing as one polity or to peaceful disintegration. Either way, the people must choose, and this kind of consensual nation-building is not something the US backs unless it makes sense for its own interests.

The anti-imperialist narrative as it relates to the current Ethiopian crisis is a scapegoat for the actual issues that are leading to an inevitable break-up.

The Abiy regime and the “no more” camp have taken part of the truth and successfully centred it as the whole truth. If they (the Abiy regime and its supporters) believed that Africans have the agency and means to solve their problems internally, an idea I believe in, then why not do that by reckoning with the fact that the Ethiopian state itself requires a decolonial process that addresses century-long questions of power and identity? Instead, the “no more” camp generally applies the political violence of neo-colonialism to itself by diverting attention from the fact that the conflicts inside Ethiopia that we see today are a result of a colonial legacy.

This article should not be mistaken for an argument in support of US government intervention in Ethiopia, despite such an intervention endorsing approaches like multinational federalism, an arrangement I believe had the potential to offer Ethiopia some healing. Nor is it an argument in support of the US because I have suggested that the US could back secession, a position I have vehemently argued in favour of in the past. Neo-colonialism is real and the US is a leader in using it to expand its political and economic interests as well as its military might. The very fact that the US is a player in the fate of Ethiopia, in whatever direction, should be resisted.

And nor is this article an endorsement for the “no more” camp as radical resistance to war or unfair geopolitics. I believe that the “no more” narrative is an opportunistic way to hide the fact that Ethiopia is falling apart, and its leaders are spearheading that process.

This article is part of a series called Deception, Denial, Dialogue: Fall of an Empire

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Democratization, Welfarism and African Underdevelopment

The spread of democracy and the application of economic policies championed by Western and foreign powers has not led to economic and political development that benefits Africans en masse. Can African philosophy and thought that is independent of foreign guidance contribute to the development of African states?

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Democratization, Welfarism and African Underdevelopment

In the last century, many African states have experienced political decolonization and witnessed the spread of democracy. Considering the global political economy, African states fall within the purview of the Washington Consensus and Bretton Woods institutions, and abide by international laws and regulations regarding economic development. African states are heavily influenced by foreign institutions and nations, and even relegated to secondary status under the current international system. As a result, since WWII many African states have either pursued a pro-capitalist path towards economic development, or in a few instances, a non-capitalist or socialist path towards economic development.

Whatever the path adopted toward development, however, African states (their respective governments and economies) exist in a state of perpetual underdevelopment, especially in relation to developed nations. Despite their underdeveloped state, African nations continue to implement economic and public policy recommendations prescribed by developed nations and international organizations and continue to pursue political development that reflects and supports the state apparatus of Western nations, namely European nations and America. This study examines democratization – the spread of democracy – in Africa and the progress of African capitalist and socialist states that have instituted democratic principles while adopting welfare state policies for economic development. The intent is not to advocate for democracy or another form of governance in African states, nor is it to condemn African states that have adopted welfare state policies for their path toward economic development. The study aims to analyse whether the application of democratic principles in African governance, combined with welfare state economic development policies, can be considered a viable option for development considering the structure and function of the global political economy.

Often, the narrative of African states on the path to capitalist economic development is told from a perspective of Western dominance where the incentives African states could receive are overemphasized. However, capitalist development in Africa has led to conditions of economic deterioration. Instead of considering the impetus of capitalist development and pro-West political and economic activities in Africa as the “consumerism development” that African leaders learned from Western nations, I would suggest that Western influences are just as present as they were in previous centuries. It is widespread knowledge that any economic or political reforms to international economic systems enhanced the control of said system by Western powers. The aforementioned fact, combined with the fact that historically society has been stratified based on a social hierarchy of racialism – which was instituted by false narratives and pseudoscience, both of which were dominant factors in the decisions European leaders (first monarchs and clergy members, and eventually politicians and businessmen and women) made regarding the economic exploitation of African states – should not be underemphasized. With the underpinning racial subjugation as the driving force of the global political economy, in my opinion, neither capitalist nor socialist development would lead to economic development that would benefit African citizens and descendants, unless said subjugation was eradicated and outlawed. Furthermore, relationship between Africans and European Socialist states notwithstanding, Africans could also reach pro-socialist and communal paths of economic and political development without Europeans, due to African philosophy.

The conditions that led to the perception of Africans as derogatory are all present in modern capitalist countries. Therefore, examinations of African state reactions to the global political economy and newly instituted economic order created in the post-1948 (World War II) society are critical. With the conclusion of the Second Great War and the development of capitalist nations such as Germany, Japan, Singapore, South Korea, and others, as well as the United States’ increasing role as a global superpower, African states became the focus of an “extraction-based” global economy based on commerce, that sought to convert Africa’s many resources into financial capital that would in turn be used to develop the “developed” nations. As a result, many leaders of African nations found themselves in a position where they had to participate in the global system of capitalism and accept foreign oversight or administration of their economic and political affairs. Although Africa is known to have experienced political liberation due to the independence movements of the 1950s and 60s, the economic systems that were instituted by the colonial nations were maintained under the new global economic order. In other words, African nations were nominally “liberated” under the guise of political freedom as African leaders showcased their power and privilege internally among Africans, but were exploited, subjugated, and manipulated economically and socially by foreign powers and the overseers of the global political economy.

African Philosophy and Epistemology

This article seeks to identify if African theory can contribute to development in Africa, considering the nature of the global political economy and the respective approaches to political and economic development in Africa. The development of democratic political systems and institutions is considered a strong political tactic, and the application of welfare state policies combined with increased consumerism is considered the economic model for sustainable development in Africa. This is problematic and frustrating because the spread of democracy and the application of economic policies championed by Western and foreign powers has not led to economic and political development that benefits Africans en masse. The article examines the potential for African philosophy and thought that is independent of foreign guidance to contribute to the development of African states. The impetus for modern African philosophy finds root in similar circumstances:

In Plato’s Theaetetus, Socrates suggests that philosophy begins with wonder. Aristotle agreed. However, recent research shows that wonder may have different subsets. If that is the case, which specific subset of wonder inspired the beginning of the systematic African philosophy? In the history of Western philosophy, there is the one called thaumazein interpreted as awe and the other called miraculum interpreted as curiosity. History shows that these two subsets manifest in the African place as well, even during the pre-systematic era. However, there is now an idea appearing in recent African philosophy literature called onuma interpreted as frustration which is regarded as the subset of wonder that jump started the systematic African philosophy. . . ‘Frustrated’ by colonialism and racialism as well as the legacies of slavery, they were jolted onto the path of philosophy—African philosophy—by what can be called onuma [emphasis mine].

Modern African philosophy was produced by the African’s frustration with slavery’s legacy, colonialism, and both historical and contemporary racialism. Considering the distinct schools of thought that approach ontological and epistemological theorizing differently, it is important to place the approaches to economic and political development in Africa within context with respect to African philosophy. African states are more than capable of leading their own development based on the knowledge, theories, thought, and actions of Africans and the diaspora.

There are various forms of ontological and epistemological approaches to scientific research and theorizing, and as a result, there are distinct schools of thought that approach ontological and epistemological theorizing differently. In “An African Epistemological Approach to Epistemic Certitude and Scepticism”, by Jimoh and Thomas, the authors provide a demonstration of the various forms of ontological and epistemological approaches to scientific research. The authors peruse certainty and scepticism within the context of African epistemology and conclude that culture is the greatest determinant. By juxtaposing African and Western conceptions of epistemology, one can understand the polarity that exists in discourse. Jimoh and Thomas uphold that man and nature, material and metaphysical, are “sacredly united . . . so the African world is a unitary world as against the analytical and pluralistic world of Western thought”. Said differently, African theories of knowledge do not separate subjects and objects but believe both subject and object exist in a continuum and share an interdependent relationship where both subject and object interact and influence each other.

African nations were nominally “liberated” under the guise of political freedom as African leaders showcased their power and privilege internally among Africans.

Considering the nature of development in Africa, as well as the legacy of slavery, colonialism, and contemporary issues of racialism, it is important to consider how Africans’ unique way of creating, surviving, and thriving under extreme conditions can be applied to political and economic development in Africa. Development in African states under the guidance of international organizations and developed nations with either capitalist or socialist economic systems benefits foreign nations and international organizations more than it does Africans. This relationship should be mutually beneficial for African states to experience uninterrupted development.

African development under capitalism and socialism

In Chinweizu’s “Africa and the Capitalist Countries” published in General History of Africa, Volume VIII Africa since 1935, the author discusses various aspects and key points in history that have affected African states that pursued the capitalist road to development. The “Atlantic Charter”, was outlined by the president of the United States, Franklin Roosevelt, and British Prime Minister Winston Churchill, and instituted multilateral organizations to maintain political, economic, and military control of designated regions of the world.

The Charter led to the development of the Bretton Woods agreement of 1945, where several economic institutions were created such as the International Monetary Fund (IMF), the World Bank system, and the General Agreement on Tariffs and Trade (GATT) to manage international economic and political affairs, as well as the United Nations Organization and the North Atlantic Treaty Organization, which were established to manage world affairs and secure the collective defence of American and European powers, respectively. Despite their attempts to lead their own economic development in alliance and aligned with capitalists’ interests, African nations ultimately maintained a position similar to colonial times, and remained the source of economic growth for foreign nations while their economic conditions deteriorated. 

In Iba Der Thiam, James Mulira, and Christophe Wondji’s “Africa and the Socialist Countries”, the authors outline the relationship between socialist countries and African states dating back to the early 20th century during the Bolshevik revolution. During this time, African anti-colonial movements were encouraged to combat colonizers and align with the anti-imperialist front, so Lenin’s Comintern established mutual agreements with nationalist organizations including the National Congress of British West Africa (NCBWA), the Kikuyu Central Association and the African National Congress (ANC). Other instrumental organizations that supported communism in Africa were the Red International of Labor Unions, RILU), the United Front from Below (UNFB) and the International Trade Union Committee of Negro Workers (ITUCNW), for which Jomo Kenyatta was a correspondent. Despite the economic downturn, Marxism continued to spread throughout Africa as Marxist intellectuals trained in Portugal via communist linkages such as Agostinho Neto and Amilcar Cabral.

After WWII, the socialist world began to take an interest in African states – this coincided with the increasing/looming Cold War – and in the period between 1945 and 1960 there was an increase in anti-colonialism, and the independence movement in Africa began to take shape. During the struggle for independence, several African nationalist parties in countries such as Algeria, Egypt, Ghana, Guinea, Mali, Sudan, Tunisia, Kenya, Uganda, Tanganyika, and Somali were supported by socialist states. In Southern Africa, the USSR and Eastern Europe assisted the ZAPU movement in Zimbabwe, FRELIMO in Mozambique, and the MPLA in Angola, as well South Africa’s ANC and Namibia’s SWAPO.

The welfare state and democratization in Africa

Some students of social policy see the development of ‘The Welfare State’ in historical perspective as part of a broad, ascending road of social betterment provided for the working classes since the nineteenth century and achieving its goal in our time. This interpretation of change as a process of unilinear progression in collective benevolence for the classes led to the belief in the year 1948 ‘the Welfare State’ was established. Since then, successive governments, Conservative and Labour [parties], have busied themselves with the more effective operation of the various services, with extension here and adjustments there and both parties, in and out of office, have claimed the maintenance of the ‘Welfare State’ as an article of faith . . . An analysis of the more important writings on the subject since 1948 lends support, for the dominant note, far from suggesting that social needs have been neglected, has been that the ‘Welfare State’ was ‘established’ too quickly and on too broad a scale. The consequences, it is argued, have been harmful to the economic health of the nation at its ‘moral fiber’. – Richard Titmuss

Simply defined, a “welfare state” is a state or nation that consist of a central government that provides social services for the nation’s citizenry. This form of public policy is based on the economic output and productivity of a nation, as the aggregate labour of citizens is transformed into wages, income, savings and, hopefully, investment by the government in order to improve public welfare. In “Essays on ‘The Welfare State’” Richard Titmuss offers a series of public lectures and speeches on the efficacy, potential, and purpose of the welfare state in the global political economy. Whereas most of the speeches took place in the 1950s and 1960s, Titmuss’ central argument and takeaway remains in 2021, as the author asserts, that “the social services (however we define them) can no longer be considered as ‘things apart’; as phenomena of marginal interest, like looking out of the window on a train journey. They are a part of the journey itself. They are an integral part of industrialization.” This statement is crucial considering the economic policies and models of development that African states utilize in modern-day society. Readers can observe by Titmuss’ tone that he considered the administration, model, and review of social services provided by a government a key issue considering the divisions of class and labour in British society.

African states are more than capable of leading their own development based on the knowledge, theories, thought, and actions of Africans and the diaspora.

Should we use the maxim provided by Titmuss and multiply the sentiment based on the scope of African states and the global political economy, we would also consider the administration, model, and review of social services provided by African governments important. Yet, the context of African governance can be distinguished from British governance because the United Kingdom does not have a colonial history, which lends itself to cater to its former colonizer in contemporary society via international regulations based on economic policy. Said differently, Britain operates independently (or with its allies) under the current international economic order, while African nations operate as an appendage of the international economic order and their former colonizers.

The underdevelopment of African states cannot be considered to be a product of African governance and leaders as if they operate independently, of their own volition, when in fact, said African leaders have been under the “guidance” and influence of international economic organizations, alliances, and developed nations as they instituted “prescribed” economic policies. The problem with African states implementing welfare state policies for their populations is that the current international economic system does not allow African states to opt out and seek African development as a primary goal. Unfortunately, African nations are only allowed to engage in economic development efforts via the facilitation of international overseers such as the IMF, the OECD, the European Union, and the United States. This point can be further exemplified when considering developments in the international economic order such as the G20 Conference, which features a single African nation, South Africa.

Economic development and policy reform are boosted by political liberation, yet Africa’s new democracies continue to experience economic underdevelopment. In Democratization in Africa: Progress and Retreat, Peter Lewis considers this the “democracy-development disconnect” in his essay “Growth Without Prosperity in Africa”. Lewis notes:

Officials and average citizens alike often note the ‘disconnect’ between macroeconomic indicators and microeconomic performance . . . data on poverty and human development are showing few significant improvements, and citizens report discouragement when surveyed about attitudes and economic conditions . . . This paradox presents a basic challenge for Africa’s new democracies. However desirable democracy may be in its own right, political liberalization does not ensure economic regeneration or improved popular welfare . . . the tension between democracy and welfare is evident. . .

Lewis suggests that while early observations of democracy in Africa did not outperform non-democratic African governments economically, a recent study by Brian Levy assessed 21 African states between 1975 and 2000 and found that African states pursuing democracy and economic reforms were more successful than non-democratic states. Despite the metrics used to assess economic growth in Africa, (GDP growth, income per capita, etc.)  – which led to Levy’s assertion that democracies in Africa were economically successful – such metrics are deceiving as they conceal that African states are under the purview of the international economic order, which ensures that non-African states benefit from African labour more than African states due to the extraction- and commodity-based economy. Secondly, democratic African states that experienced “economic progress” according to Levy, also suffered from welfare state policies, as the public welfare of citizens did not improve, which further illustrates Lewis’ point of “growth without prosperity in Africa”.

As the end of the colonial era gave rise to the independence era and movements that saw Africans vie for nationalist leadership within their respective states and various forms of political development took place, the new international economic order continued to benefit from former European colonies in Africa. African states experienced politicization and liberation movements that lead to political development, whilst foreign states and the international system of economic governance maintained the extraction-based economy. After independence, African states began to implement welfare state policies and pursued economic development models under the tutelage, supervision, and oversight of developed nations and agents from international bodies such as the IMF, World Bank, OECD, and EU. It can be said that African states’ relationship with former colonizers merely changed to one of idolization, as the global political economy expanded at the expense of African labour. However, is the decision to prioritize the economic and political recommendations of non-African states a rejection of African philosophy? Can African philosophy and thinking that is absent of foreign guidance and interference enhance the efficacy of democracy in Africa?

African nations ultimately maintained a position similar to colonial times, and remained the source of economic growth for foreign nations while their economic conditions deteriorated.

If the present conditions in African states are due to poor African leadership, management, and administration of public services and economic development, one must consider the influence of foreign states. Foreign states and international institutions have driven the increase of democratic institutions in African governance, yet economic development that benefits Africans has been absent. Beyond this fact, should we analyse the behaviour of African leaders and elites and their pursuit of economic policy that does not prioritize Africans through a particular lens, say Pan-African, one could consider their actions indicative of notions they were taught via colonialism. By neglecting the needs of African citizens, have African elites and leaders in fact treated their fellow citizens in ways similar to how colonizers treated Africans during colonialism? Can this be considered benign neglect? Was the purpose of implementing democratic institutions in African states post-independence movements and pursuing economic policies that benefit welfare state economies that are non-African supposed to contribute to political and economic development in Africa? Based on this treatment, I believe the answer is, at best, “not exactly”.

Using this conclusion as a driving and creative force, those who believe in the potential of African states should unquestionably be interested in the capacities of African states to facilitate and lead their own political development, democratic or non-democratic, as long as the economic activity improves the welfare of Africans and their relative economic status in the global political economy.

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Dust to Ashes: Cremating Christians in Kenya

A theologically informed course of action that sets cremation as an alternative way of disposing of the dead that is consistent with the existing traditions of the Christian faith and African customs.

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Dust to Ashes: Cremating Christians in Kenya

Every time a prominent Kenyan Christian is cremated instead of being buried, a debate ensues among Kenyan Christians on the best way of disposing of their dead. However, the real contestation is about whether Christianity sanctions cremation.

The attitudes of Christians have not shifted to favour cremation, despite the reforms the churches have made to their funeral policies. For instance, the Anglican Church of Kenya (ACK) adopted changes to accept cremations as a way of disposing of the dead in 1999. But when the ACK’s second Archbishop, Manasses Kuria, cremated the body of his wife Mrs Mary Nyambura Kuria in 2002, astonished Christians disapproved of his action.

It is noteworthy that Anglicans followed the lead of the Roman Catholic Church which relaxed its position on cremation following Vatican II. Prior to Vatican II, however, the Catholic Church had always justified the cremation of her dead in extraordinary circumstances, argues John F. McDonald. The Catholic Church allowed cremation in emergency cases where the quick disposal of bodies was a civil necessity, thus justifying the disposing of corpses by cremation for the public good in wartime, or during a serious epidemic. 

To explore the debate, I have divided this paper in four parts. The first explains the historical development of burial as the Church’s core practice that Christians in Kenya have adopted. Further, it highlights various African customary norms on disposing of the dead. In the second part, the study mentions instances of cremation and explains why Christians are taking up the practice. The third part sets out a critical correlation of the findings with the normative traditions of Kenyan Christians. The fourth past applies the empirical data and theological discourse to offer a theory for action and, thus, revise the present praxis.

Theological tradition

Burial remains the core method of disposing of the dead among Kenyan Christians, although more and more of them are adopting cremation as an alternative. Here we explore the historical development of burial in Christianity and the various African customary norms on disposing of the dead.

Upon death, people perform particular rituals on the body before disposing of the corpse, rituals that Vyonna Bondi identifies as the most “primitive sign of religious faith is the ritualized burial of the dead”. These rites shadow a people’s gained spiritual traditions, since they understand death as a transition to the afterlife. This is a common thread linking ancient civilizations with the modern, the belief in the afterlife, which forms a fundamental feature of religious faith. Disposal of the dead is, therefore, a fulcrum balancing the living and the afterlife.

Burial is not inherently Christian. The Church acquired the burial custom from Judaism and the pagan communities. Margaret R. Bunson dates the Egyptians’ burial rites around c 6000- c 3150 BCE in the Pre-Dynastic Period, long before Judaism and Christianity. The most popular Egyptian practice of disposing of the dead was mummification, which was practiced as early as 3500 BCE, a practice that preserved the corpse buried in the arid sand. In his writings, Joshua J. Mark refers to “Ginger”, the preserved body found in a tomb in Gebelein, Egypt, and dated to 3400 BCE. Egyptian tombs were graves dug into the earth, the eternal resting place of the body (Khat), which they protected from grave robbers and the elements. These tombs became important in Egyptian civilization, as they used mud brick to build more ornate graves, the rectangular mastabas. It was from the mastabas that they developed the “step pyramids” and later the “true pyramids”.

The Egyptian burial rites were dramatic. Egyptians hoped that in mourning them, their dead would find bliss in an eternal land beyond the grave. According to Herodotus,

As regards mourning and funerals, when a distinguished man dies, all the women of the household plaster their heads and faces with mud leaving the body indoors, perambulate the town with the dead man’s relatives, their dresses fastened with a girdle, and beat their bared breasts. The men, too, for their part, follow the same procedure, wearing a girdle and beating themselves like the women. The ceremony is over when they take the body to be mummified.

The physical body was of immense importance to the Egyptians, which Mark illustrates using the Opening of the Mouth Ceremony. This ceremony was conducted to reanimate the corpse for continued use by the soul. They performed it by placing the mummy in the tomb, where a priest recited spells and touched the mouth of the corpse, to eat and drink, and the arms and the legs to move about in the tomb. So, to release the corpse on its journey to the afterlife, the people invoked more spells and recited prayers, such as The Litany of Osiris. Proper burial rituals were therefore very important and strictly observed. Even if one had lived an exemplary life, one would not reach paradise if one’s burial did not adhere to all their funerary rites.

Other civilizations and religions of the ancient world gained this belief through cultural transmission through trade on the Silk Road. Evidence of burial rites and customs of the Church in the early centuries is scanty for there were no known distinct Christian burial forums during the first two Christian centuries. The early Christians observed local burial customs, which R.A. Peterson affirms; there were no Christian burial customs. According to L.M. White, only in the late second century did the first unique Christian concerns regarding burial emerge even though the burial of the Christian dead was clear. In Geoffrey Rowell’s view, the rites of burial in early Christianity were not controversial matters and so did not feature in apologetic or polemical works. Hence, references to them are only incidental, which explains the dearth of information detailing Christian burial practices. During the Church’s first three centuries, cemeteries exhibited Christian care of their dead. To this day, the secret burial places—not the public cemeteries but the Roman catacombs—bear witness to the practice of burying their dead.

Even if one had lived an exemplary life, one would not reach paradise if one’s burial did not adhere to all their funerary rites.

Initially, Christians and pagans buried their dead in the same cemeteries. After the fourth century, Christians distinguished their graves, marking them with decorative representations and inscriptions. Besides, the graves differed in burial motif as well. Christians did not remember their dead with sadness and resignation; their dead preceded them to the shepherd’s paradise, “to the place of refreshment, light and peace”.

The first Christians upheld the Jewish burial customs, which they modified to show both local practices and Christian hope. They not only adapted contemporary non-Christian funeral practices but modelled them to show monotheism. This, notes J.W. Childers, defined Christian belief in the resurrection of the dead. Of all their influence in the Roman Empire, Julian ranks the care for their dead in burial as top in converting the empire. Christians expressed the characteristics of their new faith—their belief in the body’s resurrection—through reverence for the body in their funeral rites, thus giving us a long-established liturgy of Christian burial rites, comprising the funeral mass followed by the absolution over the body, and later burial in a consecrated or blessed grave. Thomas G. Long described this practice thus:

They invited once more the community of faith, and in dramatic fashion, to recognize that Christian life is shaped in the pattern of Christ’s own life and death. We have been, as Paul says in Romans, baptized into Jesus’ death and baptized into Jesus’ life: do you not know that all of us who have been baptized into Christ Jesus were baptized into his death? Therefore, we have been buried with him by baptism into death, so that, just as Christ was raised from the dead by the glory of the father, so we too might walk in newness of life. (Rom. 6:3–5)

Kenya’s Anglican Church shares other Christian denominations’ understanding of burial as a pious tradition among Christians, a practice which John F. MacDonald notes, “The church has always tried to encourage by supporting it with an appropriate ritual designated to highlight the symbolism and religious significance of burial.”

However, every occurrence of death confronts African Christians with the heightened tension between the Christian tenets and their African worldview of disposing corpses. They express this in the belief that the dead have power over the living. In most African societies, life and death exist together on a continuum as they understand the concept of death in tandem with life, with death as a rite of passage through which one becomes an “ancestor” and continues to live in the community. Prof. A.B.C. Ocholla-Ayayo claims that “death amongst the Luo is expressed as a ‘crisis of life’ and an element in the life cycle of the individual”.  Death and funeral rites amongst the Luo and the Luhya involve not only the bereaved immediate family but also include other relatives and the community at large. Thus, the exit at death only means entering the invisible world. Hence, proper death rites became a necessity as a guarantee of protection for the living.

The manner and location of the burial among the Luo is determined by the individual’s status in society, the nature of their death, their deeds, as well as the rituals performed to appease the ancestors. The arraying of the deceased’s body remains an important part of Luo custom. After observing burial rites, the body is buried in a rectangular grave about five feet or deeper. The Luo, like the Luhya and the Gusii, bury their dead within the deceased’s homestead. They also bury their dead infants (including the stillborn), although Luhya methods differ from those of the Luo in insignificant details. The differentiation in burial methods, asserts Ocholla-Ayayo, highlights the differing social distinctions amongst the members of the tribes, thus maintaining the societal order.

The rituals surrounding death amongst Africans are systematic. They keep ancestral links, guide succession and inheritance, and underscore the interdependence and the conjoint relations of living kin. The Luo observed these rites to prepare for the afterlife, which was part of the continuum that fulfils one’s social responsibilities. It evinced the intricate relationship between the dead and the living in Luo nomenclature, which incorporates the name of the spirits (nying juogi). For the Luhya on the other hand, funerals were intrinsically a custom aimed at pleasing the ancestral spirits, a notion that is strengthened by the observance of Lisaabo, the remembrance of dead ancestors. Hence, the ritualistic slaughter of animals and the serving of food and drinks to mourners during funerals.

Every occurrence of death confronts African Christians with the heightened tension between the Christian tenets and their African worldview of disposing corpses.

Nomadic communities, such as the Maasai, did not allow the sick or aged to die in the home. Instead, they took them into the forest, to a hillside, or abandoned them by a river. Once dead, they buried them under a tree in the sitting position with the deceased’s chin resting on their knees. The body was then covered with stones. However, these burial sites were not sturdy, allowing hyenas to sniff out the corpse and pull it from its tomb in a practice known as exposure of the corpse.

The Kikuyu, like the Maasai, practiced exposure, discarding their dead to the wild animals. In his biography, Francis Hall claimed to have buried victims of disease himself, since under Kikuyu customary law, corpses ought not to be touched. The Meru, like the Kikuyu, abhor contamination through contact with a corpse. Hence, those who disposed of corpses as well as the family members underwent ritual cleansing by shaving.

But not every Kikuyu threw their deceased to the hyenas; the rich were buried. According to Johnson N. Mbugua, a kĩbĩrĩra was the burial ground where the Kikuyu took their dead. Before burial, they performed rituals which involved a careful wrapping of the body in a sleeping position, with the kĩbĩrĩra facing the homestead. These were elaborate rites, costing sheep and goats beyond the means of many. Kikuyu funeral rites culminated in a full Gũkũra ceremony, which showed the deceased person’s spirit achieving ancestral status.

But not every Kikuyu threw their deceased to the hyenas; the rich were buried.

Today, with the prevalence of Christianity, burial ceremonies even amongst African Christians often involve prayers in a church and at the dead person’s home, alongside traditional rituals.

Four reasons for the growing practice of cremation

The reasons for the growing practice of cremation in Kenya vary. I identify them as individual preference, cultural changes, environmental reasons, and relaxation of religious opposition.

The main reason for cremation in Kenya is honouring the wishes of the departed. For example, in 2002, Archbishop Kuria honoured his wife’s wish to be cremated. According to Maurice Murimi, Kuria’s son-in-law, “It was not the family’s decision but the express choice of our mother.” Archbishop Kuria died three years later, in 2005, leaving a similar will to be cremated. ACK Primate David Gitari did not interfere with his predecessor’s wish. Justifying his stand, Gitari pointed out that the ACK has always respected the family’s decision on interment. Roman Catholics take a similar position, giving the right to choose the church where the funeral rites are to be observed and the choice of the cemetery where the burial will take place to the individual, unless the church forbids it.

Apart from Islam, which forbids cremation, more religions have taken into consideration cremation as a way of disposing of the dead. Although Christian denominations prefer burial, with the exception of the Greek Orthodox Church, all allow cremation. The Kenyan Church is part of other global Christian denominations and has shared these beliefs with them. Anglicans/Episcopalians, Baptists, Lutherans, and Methodists, favour cremation before or after the funeral rite. Presbyterians do not support cremation, but nor do they forbid it.

The ACK proposed changes in her funeral policies accommodating cremation at the 1999 Provincial Synod. Its adopted resolutions stated:

The African culture has not yet accommodated itself to the practice of cremation. But if a Christian in his or her will wishes his body to be cremated, the church will accept that wish.

The Roman Catholic Church prefers cremation to take place after the funeral mass, and demands that the cremains be buried in the ground or at sea or entombed in a columbarium. It forbids the scattering or the keeping of the ashes by the family. Although the Roman Catholic Church pronounced itself on cremation earlier, it was slower in actioning the decision. During Vatican II, the Catholic Church reformed its funeral and burial rites, adopting a more relaxed approach, allowing cremation with one very explicit proviso. The Catholic Church codified this modification in the latest Code of Canon Law:

The Church earnestly recommends that the pious custom of burial be retained; but it does not forbid cremation, unless they chose this for reasons which are contrary to Christian teaching.

But only recently did the Roman Catholic Church issue instructions on cremation; on 25 October 2016, the Vatican’s Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith addressed the objectionable ideas and practices of cremation.

Christian theologians advocate for cremation as an alternative way of disposing of the dead. Concluding his research on Kikuyu burial traditions, Mbugua urges Christians from the Kikuyu community to embrace cremation as a way of disposing of the dead, as this will reduce funeral costs. Cremation for an adult costs KSh50,000 at the Lang’ata crematorium in Nairobi. Kariokor is much cheaper, where the cost ranges between KSh13,000 for adults and KSh6,000 for children. Further, Mbugua cites lack of adequate space to bury the dead, as a reason for cremation. Cremation should be a workable choice for the people of Nairobi according to Hitan Majevdia of the Nairobi County Health ministry, who also cites scarcity of space, and shortage of cemeteries within Nairobi.

Changing cultural perspectives

Africans are living under the constant pressure of globalization. It is a tension between adopting the modern and jettisoning their traditional practices.

When Maria Louise Okondo, the European spouse of the former minister for labour, Hon. Peter Okondo, had him cremated in 1996, the family accused her of introducing Okondo to foreign customs. She went against Okondo’s extended family’s wish to bury him according to the Luhya-Abanyala customs. Among the Luhya, one’s burial positioning contracts or extends, which has to do with the “mythology or origin of the clan”. Moreover, the kin wished to rid themselves of bukhutsakhali (the breath of the dead), an Abaluhya funerary rite where the bereaved family members shave. Mrs Okondo refused to accede to the family’s wishes, arguing that her husband was no longer bound by Abaluhya customs.

Ruth Okuthe, wife of former Kenyan sports administrator Joshua Okuthe, cremated him in 2009 in accordance with Joshua’s will. His extended family went to court in a bid to stop the cremation but Ruth Okuthe outwitted them. His family buried his empty coffin in a mock funeral ceremony at his Muhoroni home. This was in line with the Luo burial tradition where an empty cenotaph represents the deceased whose body is buried in another location. In the case of a death by drowning or where a body has not been recovered, the Luo bury the yago fruit in the cenotaph or by the lakeshore.

The family of Kibera Member of Parliament Hon. Kenneth Okoth had to honour his wish to be cremated. The individual choice has a chiasma. While African customs often trumped individualism in preference to societal customs, they nevertheless held the will of a dying individual as sacrosanct. The Luo espoused belief in the afterlife, which was integral to the belief that a person’s social status in life and an individual’s last words at death in effect determine his or her relationship with those left behind. They believed the elderly had the power to bless or to curse, and hence their last spoken words could either bless or curse. Thus, the last words spoken at a funeral are binding to the relatives. This was prevalent among the societies that revered the dead. 

The communities that previously practiced exposure adopted burial with the coming of Europeans to Kenya; they are bound to change again. Hon. Kenneth Matiba, founder of Ford Asili Party, a leading politician and an opinion leader among the Kikuyu people and Kenyans in general, chose cremation over burial. Matiba is reported to have said in 1994 that he did not want a state funeral or “dancing parties and harambees” upon his death. Another prominent Kikuyu who chose the crematorium over the grave is professional golfer Peter Njiru, who was cremated at Kariokor in 2015.

Environmental reasons

Land scarcity and hygiene and environmental concerns have also contributed to the increased acceptance of cremation as a method of disposing of the dead. Cremation makes better use of land. To reinforce cremation as a Christian practice, William E. Phipps posits: “As land becomes scarcer, cremation is more widely endorsed.” Environmentalists argue that ecologically, cremation is more environmentally responsible. This was the position of Prof. Wangari Maathai, the Nobel Peace Prize winner who died and was cremated in 2011 and her ashes buried at the Wangari Maathai Institute for Peace and Environmental Studies.

The awareness of the benefits accruing from popular Eastern practices has caused them to become accepted worldwide. According to the Cremation Association of North America, the cremation rate within the United States was 48.6 per cent of deaths in 2015, up from 47 per cent in 2014. The association predicted that the rate would reach 54.3 per cent by 2020. The projected rate in Canada was 68.8 per cent in 2015 and 74.2 per cent by 2020. In 2015, 65 per cent of Americans, two-thirds of the people, chose cremation.

Critical correlation

Here we shall explore the critical correlation of the findings on cremation with the normative traditions and interpret the discourse on the disposal of the dead to show its salient aspects and discuss whether cremation is un-Christian and un-African.

CITAM Bishop Dr David Oginde, the most articulate critic of cremation in Kenya, claimed that “Traditional Christian faith considers cremation as inconsistent with orthodox doctrine”. He echoes conservative theologians such as Rodney Decker who took an “active discouragement” position, considering cremation a sin if done as an act of defiance against God.

Opponents of cremation base their argument on the Scriptures which they say are full of examples of burials, although there exists no explicit text commanding Christians to bury their dead. Oginde argues that “one reads nowhere of a godly person cremating the body of one he or she loved [. . .] one does read repeatedly of burying human bodies and Scripture teaches that the burial of the body is an act of faith.” Cremation, according to Oginde, was not acceptable among the Hebrews, except as a punishment as recorded in Leviticus 20:14. The scriptures record the dead bodies of the unfaithful people, such as Achan and his family whom Joshua burned (Joshua 7:25). However, this was the exception rather than the rule (Deuteronomy 21:22, 23).

The communities that previously practiced exposure adopted burial with the coming of Europeans to Kenya; they are bound to change again.

Had Oginde attended to the account of charring Saul’s remains, he might have reached a different conclusion. To salvage the honour of King Saul and of his three sons against the defilement of their corpses by Philistines, the men of Jabesh-Gilead burned and buried their remains (I Sam. 31:8–13). Phipps notes the Bible’s approval of their action where David commended the men of Jabesh-Gilead for the honour they gave to Saul with their action (2 Sam. 2:4–6).

It is difficult to rule out cremation from the Scriptures. Biblical narratives lack uniformity and so gives a conflicting position on cremation. Decker observed that much of the Biblical material is descriptive narrative and not prescriptive. Hence, the Bible never commands, encourages, or condones cremation and it is possible to draw multiple principles from a variety of situations. Despite this, Decker insists inhumation is the most compatible with Christian theology and the most effective in terms of Christian witness in the West. (This essay has not attempted to discuss the question of Christian practice in Eastern cultures or in countries where cremation may be mandated. I have insufficient knowledge of such matters to attempt such a discussion.) However, Decker concedes, “I would not go so far as to declare flatly that cremation is sin. Sometimes it may be acceptable without embarrassment.”

Does cremation offend Christian dogma?

It will be difficult to associate cremation with the new age movement—as Oginde claims—that ushered in cults and philosophies, bringing in a human revolt against God. This claim comports with MacDonald’s assertion that those opposing burial hate Christian customs, ecclesiastical traditions, and have sectarian interest.

The Church refutes regeneration or reincarnation as a denial of individual uniqueness and the resurrection of the body. She affirms that human beings are both physical and spiritual, both of which apply to salvation, and thus challenges the notion of Gnosticism in the first century that viewed the body as evil (Col 2:9). God’s salvation and redemption include both the soul and the body (1 Cor. 7:34; 2 Cor. 4:16; 7:1; Rom. 8:10), which will occur at the resurrection (Rom. 8:23). The human is complete when he/she is both material and immaterial, making the future resurrection imperative.

Opponents of cremation base their argument on the Scriptures which they say are full of examples of burials, although there exists no explicit text commanding Christians to bury their dead.

The separation of soul and body at death implies that man is incomplete until reunited at the resurrection, which is understood as clothing of a naked soul (corpse). However, theologians differ on the state of the corpse. M. Harris holds a monistic anthropology, which expects an immediate resurrection at death. But Decker argues, at “death, the corpse in the grave is referred to as a person. The dead body of Jesus is referred to as ‘him’ not ‘it’” (Mark 15:44-47, see John 11:43). This position that a person—body and soul—is eternal, for which Jesus promised everlasting life, needs scrutiny.

The living believers at Christ’s second coming will get new bodies, while the dead bodies, since buried, will decompose (Eccles. 12:7). The present human bodies count for little for salvation, for God has designated new bodies for believers (1 Cor. 15:42-49; 1 Thess. 4:13-18; Job 19:25-26). At death, the human body rots, just like seed being cast into the earth, dies and rots (1 Cor. 15:36). Given that the body is chemicals, it disintegrates at death as David Wasawo explains in his unpublished memoir We Understand but Darkly:

Are we not mostly made of oxygen, carbon and hydrogen, sixty percent of which are in the form of water? Are we not reminded that a man weighing 150 pounds contains 97.5 pounds of oxygen, 27 pounds of carbon, 15 of hydrogen, 4.5 of nitrogen, 3 of calcium and 1.5 pounds of phosphorus? Added to these are a few ounces each of potassium, sulphur, sodium, chlorine, magnesium, and iron; and traces of iodine, fluorine, and silicon.

Wasawo notes how these elements are combined “to form thousands of very complicated compounds forming parts of cells, tissues, and organs, each performing its allotted function in the sentient being”. But once life is taken out of the body, all these elements revert to the “soil” and to “dust” whence they came—to Mother Nature.

Dignity of the body

The dignity of the human body is a focus of the Church’s attention from birth to death. Unlike other creatures, God made man in His image, hence the respect for the human body. Although Anglican Bishop Peter Njenga defended Mrs Mary Kuria’s cremation, speaking at a thanksgiving service, he voiced a Christian’s objection thus: “I think the big problem with cremation is that people believe cremation subjects the body to torture”. Pope Pius XII affirmed this position while addressing those engaged in the treatment of the blind on 14 May 1956:

The human corpse has been a dwelling place of a spiritual and immortal soul, an essential part of the human person in whose dignity it had a share. Since it is a component part of man and formed in “the image and likenesses of God.”

Through burial, Christians showed reverence for the body in view of the future resurrection. As Normal Geisler argues, “Burial preserves the Christian belief in the body’s sanctity,” and the Church developed meticulous funeral rites where some churches use incense and holy water with prayers that the Lord receives this person into paradise. Burial became synonymous with the dignity of the individual’s body, as Oginde asserts, “For a corpse to be burnt by fire or left unburied to become food for beasts of prey, was the height of indignity or judgment.” However, Brigham refutes that proper burial was essential for an individual’s bliss in the afterlife; sometimes undignified disposal of the body provided lasting witness. As St. Augustine observed in The City of God:

And so there are indeed many bodies of Christians lying unburied; but no one has separated them from heaven, nor from that earth which is all filled with the presence of Him who knows whence He will raise again what He created… Wherefore all these last offices and ceremonies that concern the dead, the careful funeral arrangements, and the equipment of the tomb, and the pomp of obsequies, are rather the solace of the living than the comfort of the dead.

Christians regard the human body as a temple of the Holy Spirit but this role ceases at death. The body is valuable while one is alive. Decker concedes that the Holy Spirit does not dwell in our bodies after death but makes limping claim of the body being still united to Christ, “. . . if the body is a member of Christ due, in part to the resurrection.” A person’s existence does not end at death, as materialists believe. For, as White notes, a connection and continuity between the human soul and body exists; otherwise a future resurrection would be unnecessary.

Phipps contends, “The allegedly preserved body is a Promethean rejection of Isaiah’s judgment that ‘all flesh is grass’ and Paul’s claim that ‘flesh and blood cannot inherit the Kingdom of God’. Since death neither destroys the person nor reduces his or her uniqueness and individuality, cremation doesn’t constitute an objective denial of these dogmas.” MacArthur states, “So cremation isn’t a strange or wrong practice—it merely accelerates the natural process of oxidation.” Christians should accept cremation when it meets the demands of due respect and dignity for the body, and the ashes are treated with the same dignity. Further, Phipps suggests, “a memorial worship service after cremation sets the transitoriness of the physical in bold relief against the everlastingness of the spiritual. The ‘consuming fire’ has transformed but not destroyed the essential self of the person honored at the service.”

Burial was not inherently Christian; since Christians adopted and developed this tradition from pagan and Jewish practices, under different circumstances, they could have adopted cremation.

Resurrection of the dead

Given that Jesus himself was buried and raised bodily from the dead, a Christian’s burial was to be witness to the resurrection yet to come. Christians assume that burials confer the symbolism of resurrection, which gives them a deeper religious significance. Indeed, MacDonald argues for laying the body to rest in the grave to await the call to general judgment on the last day rather than submitting the human corpse to extermination by fire.

Accepting this view implies that resurrection is physical, a position Phipps disputes, stating:

Paul did not believe that the residual dust in a tomb would be the substance of a new heavenly organism. When the apostle writes about ‘the resurrection of the dead,’ he does not mean the reassembling and the reanimation of the corpse. The expression ‘spiritual body’ (1 Cor. 15:44) which he uses does not refer to the physical skeleton and the flesh that hangs on it. Rather, in modern terminology, it means the self or the personality. Paul’s view is compatible with body disposal by cremation. Contrariwise, those who adamantly advocate earth burial because it enhances resurrection have a weak New Testament foundation on which to stand.

What happens to the body after death is immaterial. The cremation of the body has no effect on the soul and nor does it hinder God’s power from raising a body to life again. Thus, the dead will change like the dead seed which is quickened and raised in stalk, blade, and ear. The dissolution and corruption of the body by death is not a hindrance to its resurrection. If God can quicken a rotten seed, turning it productive, why should we consider it incredible that God should quicken dead bodies?

So, it does not matter to God whether a person’s body was buried, cremated, lost at sea, or eaten by wild animals (Revelation 20:13). The Almighty can re-create a new body for the person (1 Cor. 15:35, 38). For cremation does not affect the soul, nor does it prevent God from raising up the deceased body to new life (Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith).

Is cremation un-African?

While some Christians accept cremation as a choice today, many more consider this practice too radical and foreign.

Communities such as the Meru, Kikuyu, Kamba, and Kalenjin, which practiced exposure of corpses, learnt to bury; they should find cremation better than customary practices. Justifying his choice of cremation, Matiba argued, “After all, the Kikuyu traditionally never buried their dead. They used to take the bodies into the forest to be devoured by hyenas. Was that not wisdom?”

Until now, Africans have held that the dead affect the living but westernization among Kenyans is eroding the belief that the spirits of the dead have an influence on the living, that they would be haunted were they to dispose of their dead differently, that the deceased may become a malevolent spirit. Upon one’s death, an “exact” burial bounded by abundant religious formalities allows them to become an ancestor. Hence, the weight given to “proper” death rites, which ‘guarantee protection’ for the living, more than they secure a safe transition for the dead.

Burial was not inherently Christian; since Christians adopted and developed this tradition from pagan and Jewish practices, under different circumstances, they could have adopted cremation.

Yet, here is a paradox: while the Luo rejected cremation because they held the belief that the dead influenced the living, and adhered strictly to their customary funeral rites to stop the dead from tormenting the living, Dr Ocholla-Ayayo explains that under exceptional circumstances the Luo permitted incineration; they exhumed and burned the remains of a departed one believed to be haunting their kin. This recognition of the impotent dead among Luo Christians has blunted the fear of ancestral wrath, and removed the traditional obstacle to cremation.

Theory construction

In the construction stage, the paper applies the empirical data and theological discourse to offer a theory for action and, thus, revises the present praxis. The theory is aware of the presuppositions of cremation.

As the Church expands, she confronts diverse human conditions, encounters new cultures not within the experience of the biblical traditions from which Christians can draw answers. Where we have no concrete biblical injunctions to guide us on how to dispose of our dead, its broad narratives should help us to frame firm conclusions, which ought to be theological considerations, cognizant of our various cultural issues.

The first significant decision by the Council in Jerusalem, recorded in Acts 15, which declared that the new gentile Christians did not have to enter Jewish religious culture, opened Christianity to the adoption of the cultures it had entered. The lack of a Christian culture in the way we have an Islamic culture, points to the cultural diversity and flexibility built into the Christian faith from the beginning; Christians didn’t have to receive circumcision or keep the Jewish law, bringing to an end a tribal mode of faith. This stand opened Christianity to other things.

Christianity lacks a specific Christian lifestyle. So, Christians are to work out, under the guidance of the Holy Spirit, a way of being Christians in their context. Since disposing of the dead is a cultural construct, not a doctrinal edict, like in Islam, the decision to bury or cremate ought to be theological. Long before the Vatican II changes, McDonald observed, the Church allowed Japanese Catholics to be cremated. Cremation as an age-old national custom was compulsory in Japan. However, the bishops in Japan negotiated and were allowed to bury priests and members of religious orders and congregations.

The foregoing theological argument and the critical correlation of the findings on cremation with the normative traditions established above, provide the basis on which Christians today can explore cremation instead of burial. Although both the Anglicans and Roman Catholics settled the theological questions, they never went beyond their pronouncement. The ACK, for instance, did not develop cremation protocols or liturgies despite having undertaken funeral reforms. Beyond the resolution, they have put little effort into preparing Christians for cremation. Moreover, general Christian cremation infrastructure remains undeveloped.

“After all, the Kikuyu traditionally never buried their dead. They used to take the bodies into the forest to be devoured by hyenas. Was that not wisdom?”

The Church should set cremation protocols in tandem with Christian dogma. Through the Holy Office’s instruction, the Roman Catholic Church maintains that those who choose cremation must not deny the dogmas, such as the immortality of the human soul and the bodily resurrection of the dead. Therefore, cremation undertaken in adherence to Christian dogma would enhance, not mute, the expression of Christian faith.

Where Christians choose cremation over burial, their wish ought to be clarified to avoid conflict upon death. George Omwansa, a council member of the Lawyer Society of Kenya who has handled several cremation disputes, observed that in such cases not the entire family was aware of the cremation wishes of the departed, leading some relatives to oppose cremation in favour of burial, thus causing trouble.

The Church should provide families and individuals opting for cremation with guidelines to help them in their decisions, and to ensure that they bury the cremains in a dignified manner. A Christian cremated in the recommended manner may choose, for example, to be buried with his ancestors or at a cemetery or any other sacred place (e.g., a church, a columbarium, or a mausoleum). And while the memorial service should remain unchanged, there is a need to create a liturgy and order of service to assist the clergy when dealing with a cremation service and committal of the cremains.

Since disposing of the dead is a cultural construct, not a doctrinal edict, like in Islam, the decision to bury or cremate ought to be theological.

There is also a need to develop public and Christian crematoriums. The largest crematorium in Kenya is the Hindu crematorium in Kariokor, where most cremations occur. In effect, since Hindus run most crematoriums in the country, it is easy to associate cremation with Hinduism or modern-day agnostics.

I do not here propose a biblical response to cremation, but a presentation of the Christian core beliefs to clarify the faith challenge that disposing of the dead presents. I have established a theologically informed course of action that sets cremation as an alternative way of disposing of the dead, consistent with the existing traditions of the Christian faith and African customs. Besides discussing the occurrence of cremations in Kenya, I have discerned why people are choosing cremation over burial as an interpretive element of practical theology. In its discourse, the study has exposed the salient aspects surrounding cremation, establishing that it does not offend Christian dogma, and nor does it assault African customs.

In offering a plan of action to revise the present praxis, this study has proposed a way forward for Kenyan Christians, having established that cremation offers Christians a valid and acceptable alternative to traditional burial.

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