On: Not So Strange Bed Fellows — False Gods & New Messiahs
This article is best enjoyed while listening to the song "Save Us All" by Tracy Chapman - https://youtu.be/xS9n-SjPWE4
I know it’s a touchy subject for a lot of folks, especially Nigerians. Religion is one of those topics you broach as an unbeliever and brace yourself for the vitriol of insults that would be inevitably hurled your way. But I think I’m safe behind the confines of this newsletter. It’s not like anyone would be able to find me and use me as suya to appease their deity.
Macabre joke aside, I have always been one who has been fascinated by the idea of religion, faith, and its many other sister-wives ideologies like superstitions, karma, and the likes. My fascination, contrary to what some might think, doesn’t come from my ‘hate’ as an agnostic, but more from my curiosity to want to truly understand why people believe the way they do.
Personally, I think it’s not so hard to find the answer to why people believe in abstract concepts like an omnipotent, omnipresent god. However, the longer you stay trapped in the confines of a country so entrenched in religious dogma, the more you find yourself questioning the possibility that maybe some of the answers you thought you knew are not as clear-cut as you may assume.
Welcome to the Parties.
I write this at a point in the Nigerian ecosystem where the discourse is heavily centered around politics. It’s 2022; election year in Nigeria is barely a shy eight or ten months away. The political class has (as expected) come out in droves to campaign and seek the votes of their people. Also, as expected, the divide between political ideologies has risen to an all-time high.
On the one hand, we have the ruling political party, All Progressives Congress (APC), doing what all ruling parties do best: staking their claims to the throne, albeit with some in-house tribalistic divides (nothing a few thousand delegate-incentive dollars can’t solve though). On the other hand, you have the opposition parties, led by the erstwhile ruling party, the People’s Democratic Party (PDP), and strongly followed behind by a relative newcomer to the scene, the Labor Party (LP), heralded by a presidential aspirant most have dubbed to be the messiah amongst men, Peter Obi. Now, I am not giving this Wikipedia-esque breakdown because I want to talk about these parties and their ideologies. Frankly, none of that matters. Instead, I do this to lay down some context on just how religion and politics may basically be considered one and the same thing, especially in a country like ours.
The Un-angry Unbeliever
Often times when atheists or agnostics like myself try to discuss religion, it comes off as vindictive. Rightly so, because most of us were formerly religious and we probably understand firsthand what the pitfalls of these belief systems are and, sometimes (with good reason), we loathe people for not being aware of them. While this might be valid, it does feel a bit pretentious. Speaking as an agnostic, it often feels like all atheists and agnostics like myself do is rally hard against the people an ideology has supposed enslaved as opposed to finding ways to help them break the chains.
Truth is, no one wins in a shouting match. Most times in religious arguments, all we do is shout at each other. It’s not worth it. People are too biased in their beliefs or unbeliefs to listen to reason, especially when “reason” feels like something that only yells at them. You cannot plan to destroy the only thing that provides some people with some sort of comfort and not expect them to fight back. So, as much as this is the writing of an agnostic, who is bordering on atheism, rest assured that I won’t be yelling or even trying to convince you of the pitfalls of whatever faith you strongly feel attuned to.
The Laughable Rhetoric
What I would be doing though is discussing just why it can sometimes be really hard to take people seriously that say things like “religion and politics are strange bedfellows” or the more popular one which is that “a Christian or believer should not be enmeshed in politics”. It is hard to take anyone who holds this sort of position seriously, especially when you are clearly beholden to the false sense of superiority that it comes with. A religious person scoffing at the “dirty game” of politics is like a person hating the sight of their own reflection in the mirror.
Religion as an ideology thrives on a sense of superiority. It breeds an innate superiority complex in its believers. Deep down, every Muslim believes — kind as they may be otherwise — that their faith and beliefs are superior to those of a Christian. Every Christian believes the same as well. Both sects believe the same about traditionalists too. It’s the fundamental tenets of any and almost all belief systems. A belief system cannot thrive if it doesn’t stand head and shoulder above other belief systems. You cannot convince people of the infallibility of your god if you don’t make reference to how fallible the other surrounding gods are (this rings true mostly for the Abrahamic religions). In the same way, a political party cannot be considered thriving if they do not highlight the fact that they stand heads and shoulders above the others —even if it's just in principle. They can’t convince you to offer them your votes if they don’t reference the failure of the other political parties, which they, ultimately would be capable of providing a better solution to.
The Last Days of Miracles.
There was a time when the on-air display of seeming miracles was rampant in the country. Pastor Chris Oyakhilome heralded this with his “Healing School” aired on AIT. The late Prophet T.B. Joshua followed suit with his Synagogue displays as well. Ideally, all of these would seem harmless in a very religious country like ours except that it wasn’t. It was a brazen display (albeit rehearsed) of why one god held more superiority over others. Worse, it was being aired so much that the believers of the other gods were forced to witness and come to terms with how less of a superior being their own gods were. So, it was no surprise when a gag order of sorts was issued: no local TV station was permitted to broadcast such events unless it was verifiably accurate. A lot of people praised this decision by the government as fair, but the truth was that a lot of people praised this decision because it leveled the playing field once again in the battle of belief superiority.
Another leveler to the concept of brazen but unverified miracles was the advent of the Covid-19 pandemic. I believe one would actually expect that with such a worldwide issue, it would have been the perfect time for all the competing gods to prove their worth and cement their legacies on the expectant populace vying for a cure. But this was not to be the case. Imagine if these were in the biblical days of kings when they would summon all the wise men to their palace if they had a problem and needed a solution. Imagine no wise man being able to profer a solution. We all know what would have happened to those unfortunate fellows. But alas, these are gods, nobody beheads gods, especially when they have no heads —pun intended. However, I am sure some would say the discovery of a vaccine was somewhat the plan of one of the gods —quoting all that rhetoric about him working in mysterious ways.
The Last Days of the First Messiah.
For 16 years, prior to the 2015 elections, Nigeria’s ruling political party was the PDP. They were heads and shoulders above all the other political parties. They heralded the democratic revolution that saw the smooth transition of the country from military rule to democratic rule. They were all the people knew and made sure to exert their dominance in stamping down, to the barest minimum, all the other oppositions. It was a rule that had all the lovely highlights of “promises” but soon brought on the dark realities of theft, corruption, and violence. Now, we can argue as to whether it was a more prosperous time for Nigerians during the PDP era, especially seeing how terrible things are now, but we won’t do that, since the point of this narrative is to show how this political juggernaut party was toppled as soon as their superiority dogma was bested by that of another.
For the opposition, it was a simple case of finding holes in the other’s stories and then convincing people that there were no holes in theirs. Why? Because it would be impossible for you to find holes in another’s story when you had holes in yours. Defies logic to be sick of an illness and yet claim to have the cure for the same. It was a genius move in some way because one of the many ways the APC —the new guys— came to trump the superiority dogma of the PDP was to point to the rising violence in the North by the notorious terrorist Boko Haram sect. They directed the people’s attention in what was basically a sleight of hand move. They simply did this by asking the question, “how can you believe/vote a god/party that’s incapable of protecting you?”
The question was enough to get people thinking and reconsidering their positions on things. But superiority is rarely so easily lost in one fell swoop, so the first time this sort of question was raised in the consciousness of the people, it only got them thinking. It didn’t necessarily change their minds. It planted a seed. The ruling PDP party was guaranteed another circle of rule, but instead of closing the holes in their stories (or at least pretending to), they created more —or maybe that was just part of the machinations of the opposition party. Either way, by the second circle of elections, the violence had increased in the North and now the question needed no longer be asked. An answer was required urgently. The superiority of the ruling party, PDP, had been undermined, and from its ashes rose the new ruling party, nay, the new messiah to the people. The first one had now been exiled.
Mirror Reflections.
Now, all of these might seem a bit dramatic with the comparisons —religion, and politics— but I reckon that the point I’m ultimately trying to make will clarify things. My point is that the idea of religion being different in superiority, somewhat, from politics is as false as I would think both their underlying ideologies are. When Professor Yemi Osibanjo became the Vice President of the now ruling party, APC, a lot of Christians scoffed at him. “Politics and faith don’t mix”, they said. “A true Christian cannot be into politics” others argued. It was hilarious to listen to all these takes because the truth was that politics and religion are merely reflections of each other. So, technically, Professor Yemi Osibanjo didn’t become less of a Christian because he became a politician, instead, one could see it as him just simply choosing to worship differently.
The ideology of superiority that religious beliefs foster is mirrored in the power of loyalty that politics encourages. Right now, with this political climate, you can hardly convince a die-hard member of the APC political party to switch sides to the LP, even when you provide clear reasons as to why they should consider the possibility. And their staunch resolve (or lack of it) is not due to an absence of reason or logic as one might think, but due to their inherent belief in the ultimate superiority of their faction above all else. So much so that even with evidence to corroborate the falsehood of their stance, they may tend to double down on it just to spit in the face of truth.
You won’t be mistaken if this seems eerily similar to how believers of the two major Abrahamic religions in Nigeria react to criticism of their faith. It’s not necessarily because when you point to a few of the plotholes in Christian beliefs, some skeptics among them don’t believe you or don’t see some of the obvious falsehoods themselves, it’s that they understand that owning up to such considerations threatens the superiority that their belief system supposedly has over others. Ever wondered why despite the many eerily similar allegations against Pastor Fatoyinbo regarding rape and sexual molestation, many people, women included, still defend him with the intensity of a three-hour orgasm? It’s not that they haven’t necessarily seen the signs or sadly for some, it’s not that they haven’t necessarily been victims of his advances, but it’s that owning up to these truths would break down the air of superiority that their belief in his supposed innocence has already built up. (I should mention that a lot of Christians also shared their distaste for the man after the allegations and supported the women he hurt, and to those Christians, I say, “kudos”.)
With religious ideologies, everyone wants to believe that their god is the almighty. Reservations to the contrary may abound as to how unreliable he tends to be especially when his worshippers need him the most, but these are never to be confronted. Doing so would mean giving the next competing faith/belief system/religion an advantage of advancement in the race to ultimate ‘god’ superiority. The same goes for politics as well, especially in Nigeria. At this moment, most would agree that a change is needed from the norm. “We can’t continue like this” the rhetoric rings. However, the chances of this change happening is slim to none, not because most can’t see the obvious failings of the ruling political classes —APC and PDP— but because confronting this truism would give the untested underdog political parties a fighting chance.
Willful Blindness.
People often say no one really learns from history. I think the more accurate phrase might be, that everyone learns from history but wrongly. In Nigeria, most people do learn from history. Not so long ago, the APC was the underdog who was given a chance to usurp the ruling party of the time. They preached the gospel of change and a new paradise, which the other party could no longer guarantee. Basically, they showed their believers the miraculous wonders that their own god can do while demonizing the false gods of the other faith who could barely cater to their needs. The people believed. The message of change mirrored the message of salvation and prosperity that religious faith offers, almost interchangeably.
Expectedly, people took a chance on that message and believed wholeheartedly in the new tenets laid before them. They shook away all their doubts and followed on with blind faith; not on any tangible facts or promises but on the word of one of the many prophets that their god was using. The people came out in droves and exercised their right to assert the superiority of their new beliefs, and the unconvinced believers of the formerly superior faith watched on with forlorn faces. They looked at them and laughed in their faces at their bad choices. It was their time to show the world that their god was superior to the other false gods. They took the mandate and voted the ruling party out to usher in the new messiah. It was celebratory. It was a victory. This was salvation. This was the hope of eternal life. Their god was now heads and shoulders above the rest. Their party now held the reins to usher them into a new dispensation.
But like most things in life tethered to blind beliefs, eventually, that blindness wears off. Eventually, you begin to see your gods for the fallible entity that they are. Eventually, the new rulers who promised you heaven on earth begin to usher you slowly through the gates of hell. And try as you might, you are unable to fight back. Not for a lack of the resolve to do so, but because doing so would mean you’d be admitting to those forlorn faces you had laughed at that maybe both of you had gotten it all wrong from the start. So, instead of fighting, your resolve in this belief or party doubles. You convince yourself that maybe this journey through hell was just a test by your gods to see how dedicated you are to his tenets. Maybe the leaders you believed in are taking such a long time to make things better because they need to first make things worse.
You soldier on with a resolution that is unmatched. You convince yourself that things will get better as time goes on; and when they don’t, you just extend the timeline a bit, giving your gods some accommodating room for their plans. The leaders will get shit done by 2020, you think to yourself. 2020 comes and you move the timeline a bit further: 2021 then. That comes around too and you do the same again. Rinse. Repeat. All the failed promises and false miracles matter little to you. You cover them with rhetoric or empty promises and prophecies, just so the other followers of the other party and the believers of the other gods don’t see the many holes that now continue to appear in your stories. Unbeknownst to you that they too are doing the same with theirs.
The Vicious Circle.
It’s a vicious circle. Religion lets people believe in the abstract and the hopeful and yet keeps them trapped in a state of perpetual hopelessness. Why? There’d be no need for hope without hopelessness. Nothing can be considered a god's failure when it can be easily written off as “not being god's time yet”. The same can be said of politics too. Nothing can be considered the failure of the government when they can easily —with our earnest help— change the narrative to something as perfunctory as: “it is a work in progress”.
When people think of religion and politics as being different or strange bedfellows, they often think of how the former is geared toward an idea of the ethereal and the latter, an idea of the mundane. Politics is about the world and how it is governed. Faith (at least, the Abrahamic ones) is about a world beyond this one and how it’s earned. It’s understandable that finding anyone who can marry the two together as one —someone who isn’t a struggling author like myself— might be futile. Heck, some of you reading this may have already scoffed a thousand times as you read, and I bet others didn’t even bother to get past the first three paragraphs.
The truth, nonetheless, I believe, is that once you’re able to understand the role that superiority and its complex plays in how religion and politics work, even as an agnostic or angry atheist, you can begin to understand just why most would rather jail you for blasphemy than oust their fallible gods or call out the misdeeds of their corrupt leaders. It’s also enough to understand why it’s ridiculous to say devout religious folks should not be part of politics. Politics is in itself, religion; or as a friend of mine aptly suggested, maybe it has taken a semblance of religion. I believe it is okay to hate or detest your own reflection in the mirror, but it’s not okay to claim that what you see in the mirror isn’t a reflection of yours. Doing that would be as dishonest as floating the idea that APC or PDP would have anything new to offer besides the same failings of yesteryears.
Avoidance or Acceptance.
I am in no way saying APC and PDP having nothing new to offer is an endorsement of the viability and the promises of the little guy in the corner, Peter Obi. In fact, as I already mentioned, people do learn from history, Nigerians are among such. And I do believe that a lot of people are treading cautiously owing to this very fact. Who is to say that the Labour Party (LP) isn’t just another faction hoping to point out the many holes that we already can see in the others while they rise in superiority, only to become the new ‘new’ messiahs. On the flip side, who is to say this time it won’t be any different.
I understand the skepticism of most in not wanting to repeat history. However, the truth is, either by the choice of avoidance or acceptance, history repeats itself. Nevertheless, the thing about belief systems superiority is that in itself, having one is not necessarily a bad thing. You are welcome to think that your god is the best amongst the league of gods and that is okay. Congratulations, you’re a stan! What isn’t welcome though —at least around my little school of thought— is not recognizing how politic-esque that sort of ideology sounds.
The superiority of beliefs is not only tethered to religion or politics. It’s also a common phenomenon for other less prominent ideologies too. How do I know this? Well, you’ve just read a long-winded piece from an agnostic dude about religion and politics. If all I have written doesn’t feel a bit superiority complex-y to you, then you probably missed the whole point of this long-winded piece.
Cheers.