Archive for September, 2009

On Friday, September 11, 2009, as my compatriots in the United States awoke to a day of remembrance, my colleagues and I, half a world away, were dismissed from work early. News of intensifying riots downtown and gunshots echoing in the distance began to threaten our safe passage through the Ugandan capital of Kampala. We journeyed home and hunkered down while, by the weekend’s conclusion, at least 25 people died down the street.

The riots were sparked by the Government of Uganda’s attempt to stop the King of Buganda, the ceremonial leader of the major tribal ethnic group in Central Uganda, from visiting a disputed portion of his tribal kingdom. Hundreds of young Baganda rioters took to the streets in support of their king. However, like most conflicts, the root goes deeper than the trigger would suggest: years of frustration and anger against the government had been unleashed and, for two days, was to be acted out in a fiery battle before the anger was pushed under the surface once more.

On Sunday evening, after the riots had calmed, I gazed out over the hills of Kampala in amazement that the apparent serenity could follow such bloodshed in the valley below. However, conflict is not limited to Africa: suddenly I felt reminded of deep divisions in my own country, most recently manifested as a health care debate fueled more by fear and partisanship than workable solutions for victims of a broken health care system. Sure, there has been no violent rioting, no death tolls – just the sounds of piercing accusations that polarize a nation and, perhaps worse, the Church.

Certainly, it seems to be our natural inclination to think in terms of “us” or “them,” “this” or “that,” “black” or “white”. In Uganda, division tends to be along tribal lines, marginalizing the “other” with accusatory remarks about government favoritism and rights to the land. In the US, we have a different form of tribalism termed “Democrat” and “Republican” and “Liberal” and “Conservative”. In both countries these divisions have crept into the Church, forming cracks down the aisle that in some cases have become chasms. Despite the fact that the God we worship was slain for people from every tribe and nation, effectively bridging these chasms, it seems many of us choose to remain on our side of the divide, preferring to regard the other as inherently different and bad.

Yet as followers of the Prince of Peace we are called not to avoid conflict but to engage it well. Such engagement requires an attitude of dialogue rather than monologue – talking “with” those whom we regard as different rather than “at” them; listening to learn rather than to respond. Perhaps if we as the Church are intentional in developing this model of relationship we may grow in the type of love we are to have for our “ideological enemies” and, in the process, find that they really are not enemies at all. Once we cross the bridge over the chasm we may see that there exists more common ground in which we can work together than the divide would suggest.

Christ’s final recorded prayer revealed His priority for His Bride – unity. The Church has struggled with that notion ever since those words were uttered; yet I have to believe that 2,000 years later His prayer is still being answered.

NOTE: I am nowhere near perfect at the dialogue model and often catch myself in monologue mode. However, in the spirit of dialogue, my hope is that this blog will provoke discussion rather than disparagement in any of the comments it generates.

If you are interested in learning more about a dialogue model of engagement, I recommend a book called Mutual Treasure, a compilation of essays edited by Harold Heie and Michael King. You can read about it here.

Photo taken and published by the Independent

I know many of you, by this point, have read about the riots that hit Kampala on Thursday, September 10th. Even with the historical instability of the country, the violence took many locals by surprise last week. We were never in any immediate danger and the city has returned to normal. The underlying tension and anger that many Ugandans feel toward the government has once again been pushed under the surface in the priority of getting on with daily life, to resurface again at a later date.

The Baganda are the central tribe of Uganda (out of around 50 tribes) and the Kabaka is the king of this tribe. The term king is loose because he was ousted in 1966 and reinstated as a cultural leader in 1993 without political power, but still wielding much influence. Last week he was planning to visit part of his kingdom, but the president of Uganda forbade him to go saying it was unsafe. This was an opportunity for the Baganda (and many others in Uganda) to express their feelings of oppression under the government by taking to the streets burning tires, cars and even a police post while arming themselves with rocks. The police responded with tear gas and bullets and seven people were killed the first day. The situation is much more complex than I described, but at least that gives a little background.

On that Thursday, I had finally obtained my international driver’s permit and was busy driving through several villages in our project area, which is about 45 minutes away from the office (actually along the same road the Kabaka was supposed to be traveling on in two days). I was organizing several training events and was driving a couple pastors around on dirt roads past goats and small huts. In several villages, young guys were building wooden structures over the road for the Kabaka to drive under as a way of greeting and honoring him. At one point some of the guys stopped my vehicle, held out their hat, and told me they were taking up a collection for the Kabaka and that I should contribute. Luckily I had the other pastors in the car and in so many words they told them to get lost. I wondered why the king would need my contribution, knowing the guys were disappointed not to get any money from us.

After we had finished our work, my colleague and I were driving back to the office in the late afternoon. Passing through one of the towns closer to Kampala there was a tire burning in the road and traffic was diverted a different way. Honestly, I didn’t think too much of it. I found out later that the road was completely shut off about two hours after I passed through. Tension was high with the growing controversy of whether the Kabaka would or wouldn’t be able to visit part of his territory. By the time I reached the office, we were told to go home immediately because riots were beginning to spill out of the city into the surrounding areas.

The next day we went into work, and were hearing early morning reports that the violence had already started back up and gunshots could faintly be heard. Our office cut the workday in half and sent us home at noon so that all of us could be off the streets early. Friday, Saturday and Sunday we spent our time at friends’ houses relaxing and checking the news online and I ended up having to cancel a speaking engagement for Sunday morning. Finally on Saturday (two days after the conflict had started) the international news picked up the story and we were able to read a very government biased article on CNN.

On Monday everyone went back to work, shops reopened and life seems almost normal again. Thanks so much for everyone’s prayers. We never felt threatened and the reports of such events usually sound much worse than they actually are. I’m sure we’ll write more about them, but until then feel free to post any questions you have.

-Jamie