How Does God Love Uganda?

by Akosua Adomako Ampofo

Roger Ross Williams is not happy with his kinsmen’s activities in Africa—Uganda to be precise.  And as I watched the trailer for the feature-length documentary, God Loves Uganda (out 22 July 2013), by Williams and company, I was filled with deep sadness. I watched with sadness because it depicts one of the most painful sides of Christianity—the judgmental and hypocritical. Further, at a time when Christian churches in Africa are so vibrant and faith-filled, it also alerts us to the ever-present danger of (Christian) cultural imperialism.

Let me start by noting that I am, by American definitions, an “evangelical Christian”, i.e., I believe in the Bible as inspired by God and in a risen Christ, son of God, who offers salvation to sinful people (which I believe we all are). But let me also footnote my extreme discomfort with the hyphenated-Christian. A Christian is a Christian, and the Bible provides apt description of what we should be like—compassionate, forgiving, kindhearted, patient, good—to name but a few attributes, evangelical or otherwise. These are not the American Christians we find in Uganda, hence my sadness. Indeed, God does love Uganda, and the U.S., and my native Ghana. But God also loves sinners, which, remember, we all are. And unlike sinful humans, God does not discriminate amongst sins or sinners. A sin is a sin and a sinner a sinner. 

The trailer begins with a view of a typical suburban lawn in the U.S., then the camera rolls to a church scene that could be my own except for the majority being white—we see people’s hands raised in worship, people laying hands on others in prayer. That is what Christians do: they worship God and care for each other. Then the pastor says, with a great deal of passion, that Africa is the firepower. This too is true, the centre of gravity of the Christian faith has moved to Africa, and many African churches are sending missionaries around the world. The African church, often out of her own deep need, feeds the hungry, cares for the sick, provides schools and water and other amenities among peoples the state has abandoned. Like missionary work the world over, the African church survives on donations—gifts, offerings, and tithes. And as Christian charity is tied to cultural ideologies, the conditionalities make us vulnerable.

The camera moves to a group of white youth in a bus and the ever-present tropical view with the ubiquitous African sunset. We catch further snippets of that Africa the West loves so much—rolling forests, sunsets, happy people, ever innocent and receptive. A Ugandan voice says, “He [presumably God] loves Uganda”, and we see a poor, barefoot, but happy African child traipse across the screen. It is uncertain if this is the filmmaker’s romantic view of Africa, or if he simply seeks to underscore the West’s vision of Africa, visions of innocent Africans to feel sorry for and to save. Jesse Diggs, one of the missionaries, shares that East Africa is the base for the spiritual takeover as photos of, I guess, recent or prospective African converts are shuffled for display to would-be missionaries like a pack of cards. If you place the map of Africa over you, Uganda is right over your heart, explains one woman missionary. The agenda for the fight for Uganda’s soul and culture is set!

But there is a critical, presumably Ugandan, voice, who explains that religion is being used to demonize and to kill … even as we see the gentle hand of a white woman touch the hand of a little black child. What is this American “evangelical Christian” agenda? We see Ugandans march, carrying placards exhorting sexual purity and calling homosexuals to repent, all at the behest of wholly white American evangelical Christian missionaries who have carried their fight against homosexuality to Africa. I don’t intend to discuss the rightness or wrongness, sinfulness or otherwise of any form of sexual behavior, but rather to flag concerns with the cultural hegemony and not-too-veiled conditionalities that accompany these missions. It would appear that no attempt at all is made to understand the local context or history when it comes to same-sex relations, which, in Africa, are still very much devoid of politics and still very much situational, transient and with historical antecedents. The critical voice is that of the Rev. Kapya Kaoma of Political Research Associates, presumably a Ugandan but based in the U.S. by the look of his particular suburban lawn, and he is concerned about the way the gospel is employed in a new wave of colonizing African traditions. While Kapya notes that U.S. donations support good work in feeding the hungry and caring for the sick, they also promote a dangerous ideology that LGBT people have no place in God’s kingdom. Some US-based missionaries expressed support for the Bahati bill (2009), which in its original formulation included a death penalty clause for some acts. Indeed, the bill still contains many troublesome clauses such as criminalizing “related practices” and “touching … with intent to commit a homosexual act”, thus potentially turning Ugandans into paranoid vigilantes. In the trailer we see a (Ugandan) pastor ask people who are ready to kill those engaged in homosexuality to raise their hands—a flurry of hands ascends heavenwards. Many are mere children, being socialized into this new culture of hate for minorities. Sadly, unbeknownst to many well-meaning Americans who send money trusting that it will be used to bless, their money is used to destroy the lives of others in the name of the Christ, who came to “set the captive free and heal the broken hearted”. Janet Museveni, wife of president Museveni of Uganda, herself a member of parliament and a minister, is an “evangelical” Christian—apparently—and has provided much of this access that the American church enjoys. But the American church is silent about the very brazen corruption and the atrocities committed by the Museveni-led government; it is silent about the loss of freedoms for Ugandans, freedoms that Americans take for granted such as free speech and multi-party elections. After all, Americans would not want to interfere with Ugandan political cultures, would they?

But there is another sad twist to the trailer, which perhaps is addressed in the actual film. We do not hear the voices of local churches and advocates that do not succumb to such bigotry. So we are left with the impression that African churches are by and large totally impressionable and vulnerable—and that, to be saved from American bigotry, we need yet another missionary to save us—the American filmmaker.

Dr. Adomako Ampofo is Director of the Institute of African Studies at the University of Ghana, Legon and co-editor of The CIHA Blog.