By Ayo Olukotun
The passing, last Sunday, of South Africa’s iconic religious leader, liberation fighter and apostle of racial justice, Archbishop Emeritus Desmond Tutu, has set in motion a torrent of accolades. Tutu will be buried on New Year’s day in Cape Town following week-long activities related to his funeral. Described by a former United States President, Barack Obama, as a moral compass and by the Washington Post as an “exuberant apostle of racial justice,” Tutu was one of those elder statesmen whose pulpit became a podium for his unique philosophical thrust of non-violence, equality and justice, not only for the blacks of South Africa but around the globe. His definitive forte was speaking truth to power and becoming, by so doing, the conscience of his nation. He was most effective in the struggle against apartheid and the suppression of the black population often leading demonstrations and at great cost to himself, straddling liberation fighters, angry crowds and the apartheid government of the day.
Nobel Prize winner for Peace, Tutu, was the first African Anglican bishop of South Africa and the winner of the American President’s Medal for Freedom, one of the highest civilian honours in the United States. Remarkably, the end of apartheid did not close the curtain on his struggle for freedom as he consistently criticised post-apartheid leaders for betraying, as it were, the promise of black freedom, the platform upon which they fought racial injustice. One of his most prestigious appointments was the chairmanship of the Truth and Reconciliation Commission, an assignment given to him by former President Nelson Mandela, a task which resituated his voice in the national and global communities in the era of black rule. This brings us to the question raised by the title of this intervention as to whom a Nigerian Desmond Tutu could be, in a period when several courageous voices are needed to provide redirection and a guiding compass for a nation adrift. In the period of authoritarian rule, heroic individuals, organisations, religious leaders, students, played splendid roles in the struggle against military dictatorship. With the onset of civilian democracy and the return of political parties, most of these civil society activists have become party leaders and henchmen, thus, diminishing their perspectives and positions as the conscience of the nation.
Political apologetics and sophistry have replaced weighty and non-partisan analyses and forthright speeches which speak directly to the conscience of those in power. Sadly, political discourse has lost its gravity, reduced to political brickbats between the two major parties, paying little attention to the electorate and distressed majority who bear the brunt of the Nigerian brand of politics devoid of governance fervour. To an extent, this is the inherent nature of political competition which — even in the most advanced democracies — brings out the worst in politicians who tend to be creatures of expediency and short-term profit. The difference, however, is that Nigeria has carried this feature to an absurd extent where issues are bowed to partisanship and the sense of right and wrong twisted to serve political purposes. How come, to give an instance that the National Assembly almost routinely approves, the ever-soaring borrowing by the current regime with little thought for the eventual unfortunate consequences of the country’s return to debt slavery?
Why was it so easy for the first resolute opposition by the same National Assembly to backtrack on the expressed decision to reverse the President, Major General Muhammadu Buhari (retd)’s decision not to sign the Electoral Act Amendment Bill on the electronic transmission of results? At first, recall that the signatures of legislators were being collated before the Christmas break to overturn the President’s veto. All of a sudden, that initial, courageous activity fizzled out and it remains to be seen whether, on resumption, our lawmakers will have the courage to do that which is expected of them by most Nigerians. The point being made is that there is a moral vacuum in the political arena with very few voices coming above the fray to address the woes of a troubled nation. This is precisely what the search for the Nigerian version of Desmond Tutu is all about. People and movements going beyond party lines to speak to the festering wounds of the nation, beyond the opportunistic rhetoric of politicians. Woes such as the national security jinx in which hundreds of Nigerians are murdered or kidnapped daily by the ubiquitous unknown gunmen; ever-increasing unemployment; the ravages of continuously ascending inflationary upswing; educational decay and eroding infrastructure in the midst of surging pandemics. Amidst all that and the shenanigans of the political elite, as they prepare for the 2023 elections, there is a disconnect between the people crying out for alleviation and the politicians obsessed with their search for power. That is why a voice of salvation like Desmond Tutu’s is required as the country sinks under the weight of intense political activity with little or no governance results.
Nigeria’s Tutu does not have to be a Christian or religious leader. He or she might well be outside the priesthood but must possess the purpose and convictions of a Tutu. Looking at the Christian community, names such as Pastor Enoch Adeboye, Father Ejike Mbaka, Pastor Tunde Bakare, Bishop Mathew Kukah, Archbishop John Onaiyekan, and Bishop David Oyedepo come to mind. None of them, in spite of their virtues, fits the bill. Adeboye is often criticised as being too close to the power elite to be an independent voice. He justifies this by saying that the gospel is to be taken also to the rich and powerful. Bakare has a resonant voice but he may be too much involved with the ruling elite for critical distance. Mbaka has a problem of consistency, prophesying on this side today and on that side tomorrow. Kukah comes quite close but it is not clear whether persecution has tended to mellow him in recent times. Onaiyekan has the right moral thrust but his voice is a little enfeebled by age. In the case of Oyedepo, his pulpit brims with fire and brimstone on national issues in the manner of an Old Testament prophet but his reach and amplitude are yet to assume a truly national dimension in this respect. How about Islam, the other major religion? There was Ahmed Lemu, an Islamic scholar who died late last year, but he was more immersed in technocracy and jurisprudence during his lifetime. Sheikh Abubakar Gumi once looked like it but, recently, his controversial position on tolerance and cultivation of the bandits has put his teachings in a difficult-to-grasp perspective. There are other Islamic clerics but they are yet to attain national, much less global stature, in the search for a national conscience. At the end of the day, we may have to revisit the non-religious, non-political civil society activists to fish out Nigeria’s Tutu in waiting.
Bearing this in mind, we must rummage among the warriors of the anti-military protest and see who best can wear the cap. If we can’t find one, then, perhaps, a social movement with some of the characteristics of the #EndSARS upsurges without its disturbing spin-offs considering that we are looking for another apostle of non-violence. At this rate, the search very much continues.
Once again, this columnist wishes our readers a happy new year!
Originally published at Punch