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I, Too, Love Prophet Jesus With
Passion By: Nvasekie N. Konneh December 14, 2009  In
1956, the Cameroonian writer Alexandre Biyidi Awala known by his Pen
name,
Mongo Beti
published a novel, The Poor Christ of Bomba. It was a work of
satire about a European priest who had come with the “idea” which he
thought was good for Africans. As it turned out the Africans did not
want what the European priest was offering. Mongo Beti’s “Poor
Christ” was a good man who was disappointed by the people to whom he
had come to minister to. He eventually left and went back to Europe.
Given its title and critical portrayal of the Catholic Church at the
time, it was condemned as a blaspheme. The colonial authority banned the
book as a result of pressure from the religious hierarchy in Cameroon. Taslima Nasrin is a Bangladeshi doctor turned writer who with radical feminist critical views of Islam and religion in general has seen herself in trouble with the conservative Islamic tradition of her native Bangladesh. She has lived in exile since 1994. There are many works of satire such as The Poor Christ of Bomba in visual and literary arts. And there are many writers of other genres who have come under criticism and censorship for having the audacity to express views that may not be popular in society. My recent poem, Jesus Died in Liberia is no exception. Of course the poem does not criticize any religion, nor does it subvert in the same way Nasrin’s works are said to be by many of her critics who have put ransom on her head. Even the disclaimer “any reference to religion, religious figure, or religious authority is hyperbolic and symbolic” has not convinced some critics of my intent and sincerity in this poem. Just like any work of literature, I expected people to respond to it based on its merit or demerit as a work of art. I did not expect this kind of controversy pregnant with extreme anger, and hatred. Even good friend Gbessegie could not resist the temptation of jumping into the fight like he’s always done. And Gbessegie has written volumes where probably a simple, less complex paragraph might have been sufficient. But no love lost for an old pal who did a great review of my first book, a collection of poems titled “Going to War for America.” I am working on my memoir coming out in the not too distant future and I will certainly be expecting a critical review from him based on the merit and demerit of the work. I was even surprised to have heard from a fellow called Kwame Weeks who questions my Liberian nationality. Even though Kwame has been dealt with sufficiently by others, I won’t resist the temptation of saying few words to him. How can the man whose father came and naturalized as Liberian questions the citizenship of a man whose father is a product of a marital relationship between a Mandingo man and a Mano woman from Nimba County? Now you tell me and Kwame, who is more firmly rooted in Liberia? But in any case, it does not matter to me if Kwame’s father was a Ghanaian Liberian. Like the late Jamaican reggae legend Peter Tosh said, “as long he was a black man, he’s an African.” He is my brother. How can I hate the man who comes from the land of Ossagefo Kwame Nkrumah, one of my great Pan African heroes? If these critics had limited their criticism on the merit and demerit of the poem as a piece of literature, I wouldn’t have had any problem with it. I have written critical reviews of other writers and I cannot expect anything less from others regarding my own works. In other words, critical reviews of works of arts or literature is an essential element in any intellectual community. The question is, was I putting the late President Tolbert and Jesus on the same spiritual level? Did I say Tolbert was a prophet like Jesus? The answer is of course no. I know Tolbert was a mere mortal and according to my religious believe, Jesus was a Prophet. The idea that Jesus did not die but ascended to heaven and would come down again is nothing new. That is the position Moslems hold which is the complete opposite to Christian position. Even with that point made, I cannot say that Tolbert and Jesus are at the equal spiritual level. My only interest here in the comparison is the concept of someone sacrificing his life willingly or unwillingly for the sake of other people. Dying for a cause, or belief is beyond religion because a person may sacrifice his or her lives for political cause or philosophical reason. History is replete with the names of people who knew they were courting danger but did not stop their actions because they believed in what they were doing.
In responding to
some critics on the Liberian Forum website where the poem was first
published, I said the followings: When Harriet Tubman let many slaves to
freedom through what is historically referred to as the Underground
Rail Road, she was called Moses because her act was compared to
Moses freeing the Jews from Egyptian captivity. When Marcus Garvey
advocated the Back to Africa movement in the 1920s, he was also called
Moses because his brave and courageous action was also compared to Moses
leading his people out of Egyptian captivity. It is in the same vein I
am comparing Tolbert’s death to that of Jesus.
There are other critics who do not agree with what I say in the poem but they nonetheless appreciate the literary and artistic values of the work. I appreciate their frank objectivity. If Liberia is to move forward, a vibrant literary and artistic culture must be an integral part of that moving forward. There must be people who are intellectually capable of critiquing works of arts and literature based on its merit or demerit. You cannot approach works of arts and literature only from narrow political perspective like some people have done on the subject under discussion.
In conclusion, I will leave you with a poem inspired by the controversy over the poem, Jesus Died in Liberia.
Religion is true and pure But sometimes Men becomes so emotional And irrational because of it And go on breaking All the fences With self-righteous feeling.
Art is pure Sometimes simple And complex But it’s the mirror Through which Society can see itself In its finest and ugliest.
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