Even though the idea originally emanated from the Pentecostal Fellowship of Nigeria (PFN), the Redeemed Christian Church of God (RCCG) in February became the lightning rod of the controversial mix between religion and politics. In a memo to the church’s provincial headquarters dated February 28, the RCCG authorised the formation of the Office of Directorate of Politics to muster support for members with political ambitions. Once set up, a provincial headquarters would ensure the replication of the same political office at the zonal, area and parish levels. The idea for the directorate was first thought to have originated from the RCCG, thus making it to quickly become a hot-button issue evocative of the Christian era when state and religion were locked in a controversial and lethal mixture. After centuries of bloodshed and ruptures, state and religion parted ways, with each nevertheless still devising ingenious ways of influencing the other and unwittingly endangering the tentative, long-standing peace existing between them.

The PFN has, however, waded into the controversy. The controversial idea, it confirmed, was its own, not the RCCG’s. It was meant as a harmless measure to help and encourage Christians to go into politics. If necessary, too, going by the RCCG’s memo to its members, the church could also mobilise support for such politically-inclined members. Commentators who denounced the measure and accused RCCG of treading dangerous grounds, believing the church originated the idea, thought the policy was designed to mobilise support for the unstated but unhidden presidential aspiration of one of its senior pastors and top member, Vice President Yemi Osinbajo. Despite the clarifications of the PFN spokesman, few are likely to concede that the idea is at bottom alien to the RCCG. They suspect Prof Osinbajo had a hand in all this, and they see many Pentecostal churches, the RCCG not excluded, as a bit discomfitingly militant. In all likelihood, however, the PFN may be telling the whole truth. The idea is likely theirs, they have no reason to lie; and it may take an awful long time and heated debate for them to acknowledge the shortsightedness of the policy.

Both the PFN and RCCG may mean well, desiring to help guide their members in politics, probably to develop the ethics and morality necessary to navigate the treacherous rapids of realpolitik undermining governance and politicking everywhere. But there is no question that they gave the matter precious little thought than the subject deserves. And to lend the idea the weight of the umbrella Christian body and the might, if not ubiquitousness, of the RCCG itself is to expose and possibly or inadvertently return the church to the sanguinary years that blighted its history. The idea clearly fails a few obvious tests. Firstly, who tells the church that in a small parish, let alone a big branch or even national body, there could not be many members competing for the same positions who would be incensed to discover any hint of favouritism to other members? Why could the church, for instance, not produce two or more presidential or governorship or legislative aspirants?

Secondly, when the church openly engages in biased mobilisation for its members, probably with a veneer of Christian and thus doctrinal triumphalism or Pentecostal fervour, do they expect other faiths to embrace the Christian candidates? Could candidates adopted, as it were, by the church expect votes from across all denominations, faiths and ideological persuasions, especially when those other ones have also produced their own candidates? And by extrapolation, would church be chagrined by the adoption of different candidates by opposing and equally militant and doctrinaire faiths? The church will be finding its way into a quicksand to begin immersing itself in politics after centuries of managing to extricate itself from it. If the church cannot influence its members from the pulpits to adopt a healthy and ethical perspective to all matters, including politics and governance, they could not hope to do it by directly adopting aspirants who are their members. They can pray for aspirants, counsel them, and even encourage them; but to make such efforts official by designating units or departments to oversee Christians in politics is unscriptural, shortsighted and counterproductive. That other faiths, particularly in the North, routinely and indefensibly do it does not justify the inanity.

There are not many politicians who swim in the murky waters of politics and emerge unscathed. It is one of the continuing tragedies of modern Nigeria. The church would risk being bespattered by filth should their adopted and counseled aspirants and candidates fall dangerously below expectations, especially attitudinally and ethically. Christians can and should go into politics, just like any other Nigerian of other faiths. Hopefully, one of these days, should the right doctrines be preached from the pulpits – and this is not always guaranteed, especially as the church immerses itself in the world system – the Christian politician would justify and exemplify the tenets of his faith and impart positive values upon the society. And whether the church likes it or not, sometimes, even ethical politicians of all faiths have not always demonstrated as much competence, emotional stability and vision as a politician without a religion. Surely the church cannot pretend to be ignorant of how Nigeria is mocked all over the world for their raucous and sometimes riotous celebration of their faiths which have nevertheless failed to produce a great society comparable to nations without similar faiths.

Just how was Osinbajo in charge?

Moments before he departed Nigeria for a medical trip to the United Kingdom two Sundays ago, President Muhammadu Buhari told newsmen that Vice President Yemi Osinbajo would be in charge in his absence. Although he needlessly qualified that assertion by suggesting in addition that the Secretary to the Government of the Federation (SGF) and his Chief of Staff (CoS) were also available to steady the ship of state in his absence, Nigerians ignored the latter qualifications and took the president’s word for it that his VP would hold the reins in his absence. The assurance turned out to be a ruse.

Yes, Prof Osinbajo would go on to chair Federal Executive Council meetings and perform a few sinecure duties, but he was accustomed to doing these even with the president in town. There was nothing unusual that he did in those two weeks. Instead, the big issues of the day that concerned the ruling party, to which Prof Osinbajo as a professor of law could have offered expert views and even direct affairs, were scrupulously kept out of his reach. He was smart enough, having had his fingers burnt in the past, not to meddle in what was not brought before him. Indeed, it is doubtful whether the law alone was sufficient to manage the contentiousness of the political dispute that ravaged the party in the president’s absence, a part of which he unreflectively signed off on before his trip.

What is even more intriguing to observers was how government and party officials embarked on pilgrimage to London to confer with the president, ignoring the eminent vice president back home. In short, the president took the throne with him to London, and neither he nor his aides would brook interference of any kind, no matter how subtle. Perhaps the president just gave a perfunctory answer to newsmen at his departure. He didn’t mean a word of it. Experience had thought him.