In Search of the Prince of Peace: Lessons from the Uganda Riots

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.