An Afrocentric Ecoreading of ‘Coloniality of Power’ in Prophet Hosea’s Narrative

Abstract

This work examines the environmental challenges occasioned by Samaria’s ‘imperial singleness’ in prophet Hosea’s text from an African perspective. The interaction between the ‘seat of power’ in Samaria and imperial forces in Hosea’s time appears to have negatively influenced Israel’s attitude towards land use (Hos 12:1, 2; 1 Ki 21:1–28; 2 Ki 9:26). Such interface becomes evident in a shift, by Samaria’s ‘seat of power’, from Yahweh’s prescribed land-use policy to those of their imperial masters—Assyria and Egypt. Despite Israel’s liberation from Egypt by Yahweh during the exodus (Hos 11:1), their susceptibility to treaty alliances with these imperial forces remains vivid in Hosea’s narrative (Hos 7:1–16; 12:1–2). Echoing the words of Ngwa, such an alliance seemingly classifies Samaria’s monarchy as a ‘localised imperial singularity’ and a ‘single hero’ as against the ‘communal oneness with the divine, humans and the earth itself’. This ‘localised imperial singleness’ and its effect on Israel’s land was subjected to a critical engagement premised on the principles of interconnectedness and the voice of the earth, while a combination of Mburu’s African Hermeneutics and Kavus’ Ecological Hermeneutics is employed for the purpose of critical decolonial discourse.

1. Introduction

‘Coloniality of power’ is a concept which was coined by Quijano, Aníbal (Gandarilla Salgado et al. 2021). It is advanced in postcolonial studies, decoloniality, and Latin American subaltern studies. It identifies and describes the living legacy of colonialism in contemporary societies in the form of social discrimination that outlived formal colonialism and became integrated into succeeding social orders. This concept could also be situated within the study of biblical texts, like Hosea, where the upper class imposed political and social hierarchical orders on the lower class in the context of land and land use in prophet Hosea’s days. Thus, a discourse on the place of land for ancient Israel remains germane in interrogating the centrality of ‘coloniality of power’ in land use and its attendant ecological consequences, as evident in the biblical text.

The ideology of a covenantal land is central to the Old Testament narratives (Robertson 2000; Volschenk 2001; Brueggemann 2002; Josiah 2019). In essence, land is viewed as a divine gift from God. Moreover, this divine gift is seen as a key source of support. Others, like Isaac (2015), have expressed concern about the need to broaden the concept of land theology beyond Eden. While Xin and Zhang (2021) argue that land is an ecological idea, Heiberg-Koers (1998) sees land as a personal factor with regard to the Old Testament. However, it is possible that the lack of a developed land theology is not due to oversight; rather, it is a result of theological focus being traditionally placed on other aspects of faith and scripture. These aspects may include concepts such as salvation, redemption, and the nature of God. Additionally, the emphasis on spiritual and moral teachings might have overshadowed the exploration of land theology in religious discourse. Nevertheless, as society becomes more aware of environmental issues and the interconnectedness of all beings, there may be a growing interest in exploring the theological significance of land and its relationship to human spirituality.

The Hebrew Bible culture is the fundamental textual source of information on ancient Israelites. It encompasses a vast range of literary genres, including historical accounts, laws, poetry, and prophecy. These texts provide valuable insights into the beliefs, customs, and values of the ancient Israelites. Furthermore, the Hebrew Bible culture has had a profound influence on not only Judaism but also Christianity and Islam, shaping the religious and cultural landscape of the world. The Pentateuch entails codes that contain several laws on land. For example, in the book of Leviticus, there are detailed instructions on how to divide and distribute land among the twelve tribes of Israel, with close attention paid to fairness and equality (Josiah 2019). This reflects the importance placed on communal ownership and the idea of stewardship within the Hebrew Bible culture. Additionally, the land laws include provisions for the Sabbath year and the year of Jubilee, where debtors, slaves, and land were set free (Lev 23). These laws highlight a strong emphasis on social and economic justice.

In the Old Testament, God is revealed as the almighty creator and the personal creator of Adam and Eve (Gen 1:1, 26, 28). Because God created man, He sees man as responsible for looking after and maintaining His creation (Gen 1:31–28). Whereas man was made from the dust of the ground, Genesis 2 is a clue to the close relationship that exists between man and the earth. This gives a history of the relationship man has with the earth as far back as creation—to look after it, maintain it, and make good use of it (Helberg 1998).

Unfortunately, under the divided monarchy, especially in the northern kingdom of Israel, the interaction between the ‘seat of power’ in Samaria and imperial forces in Hosea’s time appears to have negatively influenced Israel’s attitude towards land use (Josiah 2014; Hos 12:1, 2; 1 Ki 21:1–28; 2 Ki 9:26). Such an interface becomes evident in the shift, by Samaria’s ‘seat of power’, from Yahweh’s prescribed land-use policy to those of their imperial masters, Assyria and Egypt. During the exodus, according to Ngwa (2022), YHWH intervened in Israel’s liberation from Egypt (Hos 11:1). In spite of YHWH’s deliverance, Israel’s vulnerability to treaty alliances with these imperial forces remains clear in Hosea’s narrative (Hos 7:1–16; 12:1–2). Echoing the words of Ngwa (2022), such an alliance seemingly classifies Samaria’s monarchy as a ‘localised imperial singularity’ and a ‘single hero’ as against the ‘communal oneness with the divine, humans and the earth itself’.

This study, therefore, attempts to read the ‘coloniality of power’ in prophet Hosea’s narrative through an Afrocentric lens using the framework of two ecojustice principles, namely the principles of interconnectedness and voice. By interconnectedness, Habel (2008) implies that the earth is ‘a community of interconnected living things that are mutually dependent on each other for life and survival’, while voice implies that the earth is a living entity capable of raising its voice in celebration and against injustice (Berman et al. 2021, p. 28; Hos 4:3; Joe 1:17–20).

2. Hermeneutical and Methodological Issues

Kavus (2020) discusses Van Dyk’s argument that ‘the Old Testament has very little (if anything) to say on ecological and conservation matters.’ He noted that the biblical texts were written in a pre-modern society that could have known nothing about our present-day ecological crises. According to Van Dyk (2014), there appear to exist certain limitations to interpreting the Old Testament as a source of guidance on ecological and conservation issues. He holds this view specifically on the assumption that the Old Testament texts were written in a different time and context; thus, they may not directly address the complexities of our current environmental challenges. He calls for a critical and contextual approach to the text. However, Habel (2012) believes an ecological reading of ancient texts is fundamental. He argues that by examining the relationship between man and environs in biblical narratives, we can gain valuable insights into how to address our current environmental challenges. He, therefore, suggests the adaptation of an ecological reading of the Bible as a moral framework for environmental stewardship, which could inspire individuals and communities to act on protecting and preserving the earth. He thus calls for an enriching dialogue between the world of the Bible and contemporary ecological realities. To Mburu (2019), scriptures must be interpreted within one’s worldview and culture for a better understanding and application. She proposes the use of the intercultural approach, revealing her ‘four-legged stool model’ to biblical texts, which examines the parallels to African contexts, the theological context, the literary context, and the historical and cultural context. The forgoing is further buttressed in the work of Johnson Leese (2019). For the sake of clarity, below are some of the ecological principles for critical engagement of this study.

3. The Principle of Interconnectedness

The interconnectedness of beings is the beginning of the growing understanding that the earth is not a controlled or mechanical system made up of separate pieces governed by the so-called laws of nature. According to Habel (2016), the air we breathe was once inhaled by Lebanon’s cedars and then recycled. Male humans have long been considered to be of a higher order than other living forms according to traditional Western belief. Just like the sun and moon were to ‘rule’ (mashal) the night and day, humans are the second categories God gave the task of ruling. (Gen 1:16–18, 26, 28) The command to ‘rule’ (radah) by man was accompanied by kabash (subdue). According to Richard Bauckham:

The only difference is that humans are told to subdue (kabash) the land. When this verb is used with human as its object, as it mostly appears in the Hebrew Bible, the meaning seems to be something like ‘to take by force’ or ‘to make subject’ (2 Sam 8:11; Esth 7:8, Jer 34:11) but when ‘land’ (‘eretz) is the object, the meaning seems more ‘to occupy’ or ‘to take possession’ (Num 32:22, 29).

(Bauckham 2016, p. 16)

Subdue may be viewed from two perspectives: ‘taking by force’ or ‘possessing the land’. It should be highlighted that ‘occupying’ is not the same as ‘seizing by force’. The former deals with commitment and mutuality, while the latter might be handled with contempt and disrespect. The dominion alluded to here should be viewed as ‘caring and tending’ rather than ‘using’.

The formation of the first human being (Adam) from the soil (adamah), as recorded in Genesis 2:7, shows the great interconnectivity between man and the land. So many scholars have tried in different words to explain this, using the choicest expressions like ‘God made humans out of humus’ and ‘We share common ground with the earth because we are common ground’. Bauckham summarily puts it this way: ‘This earthiness of humans signifies a kinship with the earth itself and with other earthly creatures, plants and animals. Human life is embedded in the physical world, with all the implications of dependence on the natural systems of life’ (Bauckham 2016, p. 21). Again, this notion has made many scholars criticise the idea of stewardship. Bauckham (2016, p. 21) asserts that ‘stewardship fails to accentuate that we belong to the earth more than it belongs to us, that we are more dependent on it than it is on us, that we are of the earth and not living on the earth’. (Bauckham 2016, p. 21) This argument further brings the earth community into one common ground by laying emphasis on Gen 2:19, which states that all the beasts of the earth were made from the ground, and Adam did the naming. Summarily, Habel’s principle of purpose states that ‘the universe, earth and all its components are part of a dynamic cosmic design within which each piece has a place in the overall goal of that design’ (Berman et al. 2021, p. 29).

4. The Principle of Voice

The principle of voice is one of Norman Hebel’s six principles of ecojustice, which states that the earth is a living entity capable of raising its voice in celebration and against injustice (Berman et al. 2021, p. 28). Habel argues that humans are facing a ‘New Ecological crisis’ personalising and humanising earth. The argument is in line with Hosea’s report that the land mourns the injustice on it. Hebel continues that humans are beckoned to hear the groaning, uttering, and gnashing of earth’s teeth due to their own behaviour. They suggest that the earth hears and feels the effects on its body. The land bears the injustice committed by the people. Among the Edo people of Nigeria, any man who grievously attacks or metes injustice against his kinsmen or brethren will be judged by the land. Such judgement can be in the form of an incurable sickness or death. Notable among several such judgements is a man who, out of greed, refuses to share the land inheritance with his late brother’s children. However, with the intervention of society, the land is shared. The man, out of envy, decides to cut all the economic trees in the land apportioned to the children, but unfortunately for him, he immediately develops a cold and goes home to die.

The resultant effect of the sins of Samaria is the mourning of the land, and as the land mourns, anguish becomes the lot of the inhabitants: humans, the beast of the field, the fowls of the heaven, and even the fish of the sea shall be taken away. In the same vein, prophet Jeremiah, who lived in the latter part of the 7th century but was a prophet to Judah, also used the same word of land mourning (Jer 4:28). He warned them of the impending doom and how they were about to sink because of their sins.

The anthropomorphic consideration of the earth cannot be ignored, as many perceive land as having qualities that ordinarily would be attributed to humans. An example is believing that the earth has a voice that can celebrate justice and rebuke injustice. Recently, scholars have challenged the old ideas of a land devoid of human qualities. It should be noted that whether it is the humans in the land or the land itself that cries out or rejoices, it can be interpreted by those affected. The sins of the people have a resultant effect on the land, which, in turn, affects the inhabitants greatly. Hosea chapters 4 and 7 explain that the land mourns because of the sins of the people. When the land mourns, there is anguish, sorrow, displacement, retrogression, and pain.

Relating to Africa, various cultures in Africa have expressed how interconnected humans, other inhabitants of the earth, and the earth itself are. In Africa, a community comprises the living, the divine, and the environment. It is also believed that land and trees have a spiritual connection to the lives of the people. This axiom is alluded to in Daniel chapter 4, where a tree became a symbol of the great king Nebuchadnezzar, and which subsequently was cut down and the stump left to show that he would not be utterly destroyed. In African communities, the death of a great man is likened to the fall of the Iroko tree—the king of trees (Oral History). Most African societies practice the burying of a newborn baby’s placenta under an economic tree planted within the compound. The growth of these trees is a constant reminder that the child has a place in that home. It is often a bad omen when a healthy tree falls without warning. Gerald West, in his work Mapping African biblical interpretation: A tentative sketch, attempts to change the narration of Africa always being at the receiving end (object). He explained that when we say the Bible in Africa, we end up formulating that the Bible is the subject while Africa is the object being acted upon. But, making Africa the subject means that Africa is no longer acted upon but is itself an actor (West 2001). This hermeneutical tool thus allows for a reading of the Bible from an African perspective and, in the case of this study, a reading from an African ecological lens.

5. Stewardship of the Land

It may be that the creation of man was a necessity created in Genesis 2:5. There was no one to till (‘avad) the ground (adamah), and in verse 15, Adam is finally created and placed in the Garden to till (‘avad) it and keep (shamar) it. Noah, like the second Adam who was given the opportunity to repopulate the earth, was also a man of the soil (adamah) (Gen 2:20). The above stresses humanity’s close relationship with the soil. Bauckham claims that ‘the relationship is a reciprocal relationship: the soil needs Adam’s work and he needs the soil’s produce’ (Bauckham 2016, p. 22). In the same vein, Gulick agrees that ‘nature in the Bible is generally regarded as a resource’. (Gulick 1991; Lrby et al. 2016) Adam’s keeping and preserving the soil in the form of taking care means he should avoid exhausting it. Out of the soil came the human race (Sutter 2008, p. 20); therefore, it is expected that man preserve and maintain it.

Beginning with the flood, when the command was given for man to kill animals for food, this relationship broke down and was replaced by chaos and violence between man, land, and other creations. This whole drama was a result of disobedience, which caused man to lose his Eden home and peace. The land was to become hard, and man could no longer till it with ease but with sweat and pain. To meet man’s needs, the land with high fertility was sought after with reward, and selfishness became the order of the day. The animal was constantly deprived of food too because man’s attitude towards the land has changed. Both humans and animals eat meat, which was not the original intention. ‘The flood is a kind of de-creation, a reversion to chaos, though not a complete one. So extreme is the desecration of the earth by violence that God makes virtually a fresh start’ (Bauckham 2016, p. 24). Here, God commands man to kill and eat flesh, excluding the blood. This shows that man has no right over the life of any creature.

6. Land Use Policy in Pre-Exilic Ancient Israel

Mesopotamia, Egypt, and Israel were seen to be rich in the provision of materials in ancient land institutions (Piotr and Alan 2010). Although they were close to one another, the three nations had clear and undeniable differences in terms of their writing styles, religions, and languages. It is recorded in history (Wengrow 2018) that by 300 BC, they were ahead of other societies and had separately come up with their system of writing known as cuneiform for Mesopotamia, hieroglyphics for Egypt, and the Hebrew alphabet for Israel. Additionally, each civilization had its own unique religious beliefs and practises, with Mesopotamia worshipping multiple gods and goddesses, Egypt focusing on the worship of pharaohs as divine rulers, and Israel following monotheism and worshipping only one God. These distinct writing styles, religions, and languages contributed to the rich diversity and cultural heritage of the ancient Near East. Ancient Egypt was thought to have been a hydraulic civilization with its heart on a desert floodplain and its arable land consisting of a variety of valley basins rather than a flat alluvial plain. In addition, the Nile River was there, which was a reliable and predictable river in comparison to other large rivers. However, due to these factors, the Egyptian irrigation system was less sophisticated than the Babylonian and highly decentralised. They devised a system of surveying and documenting land titles to stop land rushes. They finally made significant improvements in their agriculture sector as a result of their action (Piotr and Alan 2010).

Focusing on the Torah, the Mosaic Law made bare rules governing the use of land. The people were to see themselves as tenants and stewards of the land belonging to Yahweh, giving them the right to live in and care for it. Their use of the land was not only to boost their economy but also to explain the proper meaning of the injunction given by God in Genesis 1. The laws authorise Israel’s use and enhancement of the land. They also impose strict limits, especially in the form of the sabbatical institutions: the weekly sabbath, the sabbatical year (every seven years), and the jubilee year (the sabbath of sabbaths, every fifty years). The law is not just about good farming practices but keeping the economic drive in human life within its place and not letting it dominate the whole of life.

In Genesis 23:11, Israel’s land legislation shows both the human right to subdue and dominate the earth in a manner that considers the other elements in the community to be interconnected. They have much restraint, just as they were given dominion. In the seventh year, the land was to be left to rest and lie fallow so that the poor in the land may eat, and what they leave, the wild animals may eat (Lev 25:7). Here, humans are to constantly be reminded that they share the earth with the non-human ‘other’ and must not leave it to themselves alone. It also takes one back to Genesis 1:29–30, where everyone has a right to the produce of the land. This policy gave a sense of human respect for God’s creatures. Humans are to use the land responsibly. The tilling of the land by Adam was for preservation, while the limitations placed by Yahweh on Israel’s land use were to prevent exhaustion.

In Noah’s day, one could see how the saving of the human race is inseparable from the saving of the non-human ’other’. Bauckham (2016, p. 33) puts it that: ‘it was so important to save other living creatures along with humanity, which testifies to the interconnectedness and interdependence of the creation of which humans are part’.

7. Coloniality of Power in Selected Old Testament Narratives

The build-up to the problem addressed by Hosea is the abuse of the unmerited favour extended to Jeroboam during the divided monarchy. Jeroboam soon became a parable as the one who led Israel to apostasy. His son, Nadab, took over from him. After two years, Israel experienced the first coup that brought Baasha to the throne, after which his son, Elah, suffered the same fate as Nadab. Zimri, a military commander, seized power from Elah and ruled for 7 years after which Omri seized power at Tirzah from Tibni. To his credit, Omri finally stabilised the northern kingdom politically and gave it a capital—Samaria—an admirable site near Shechem. He bought it legally, and like David’s Jerusalem, it was his city. It remained the capital until it was destroyed by the Assyrians 150 years later (Lasor et al. 1996).

Omri was the father of northern luxury. His luxurious lifestyle was the theme of Amos and Hosea’s prophecies. He sustained these luxuries through different alliances with foreign nations; the most famous of these was the unprecedented alliance with Tyre that was sealed by the marriage of his heir apparent Ahab to Jezebel (1 Ki 16:4). Just like every other alliance that comes with benefits, it gave Omri a ready market for Israel’s agricultural products and enough military strength to keep the Arameans of Damascus from invading his territory in Transjordan. This era of booming economy and political stability under Jeroboam II was captured in the first part of Hosea’s prophecy in chapters 4 and 5. This was followed by a period of instability after the death of Jeroboam II. This latter period was characterised by regicide, evident in the assassination of other kings. The religious and social conditions of the county were also bad, as there were burglary, murder, deception, drunkenness, adultery, and insecurity. Corruption was at its peak (Folarin 2004). The seat ‘calf of Samaria’, that is רוּחַ זָנוּנִים (Hos 5:4), attracted Hosea’s polemic for representing the structures of power which were seated in Samaria (Hos 8:1–14). To Josiah (2014), the calf symbolises power in military, political, economic, and so on forms. It was these ‘structures of power seated in Samaria’ that were responsible for the injustices done not only to the people but also to the land. It was the same corruption of Samaria’s government, which contaminated the priesthood that Hosea resented. The power dynamic of the ‘calf of Samaria’ presents itself in the structures of power at different levels. For instance, businessmen in the urban areas manipulated the small farmers through the purchase of crops at lower rates from the peasants in exchange for a high interest rate on loans given to the peasants. The idea was to keep the poor in bondage of debt since they could not repay the loans. In the long run, small landowners were forced out of their land, and merchants purchased the land and cultivated it using their debtor slaves as the workforce (Josiah 2014). In Hosea 7 and 12, the prophet alludes to the export of oil as a means of tribute to Egypt and perhaps Assyria. The numerous purposes of olive oil must have necessitated its demand by Israel’s imperialists (2 Ki 18:32; Jer 40:10; 1 Ki 17:12; Ec 9:7, 8; Ex 25:6; Isa 1:6; 17:6; 1 Ki 5:11).

8. Power and Land-Use Policy in Israel

The alliance of Israel with Tyre by Omri brought together two notable people, Ahab and Jezebel, who led Israel away from their God to worship Baal. This power first attempted to change the land use policy of the Jews, as recorded in 1 Ki 21:1–28. Baal is a god of vines and fertility. No wonder Hosea keeps accusing Samaria of drunkenness and adultery. The court of Baal allows drunkenness and encourages sexual activities as part of religious rites to promote land productivity (Lasor et al. 1996, p. 162). As touching 1 Ki 21:1–28, Ahab, whose covetousness made him sick because he needed Naboth’s land, was assisted by his wicked wife to raise false witnesses against Naboth in order to kill him and make her husband happy. Ahab and Jezebel defiled the commandment of God as given in Lev 25:23: The land shall not be sold forever; for the land is mine, for ye are strangers and sojourners with me. Again, YHWH expressed repulsion against oppressive kings who exercise their power in land grabs. The intoxicating effect of power in the life of exilic Israel was resisted by YHWH in Ezekiel 46:18: ‘Moreover, the prince shall not take the people’s inheritance by oppression, to thrust them out of their possession, but he shall give his sons inheritance out of his own possession’. This forceful taking or grabbing of the poor peasants’ lands attracted YHWH’s (Mic 2:1–2).

Prophet Hosea’s message is a build-up of prophet Amos’ message, who preached to the Northern kingdom, although from Judah, and was ready and bold to confront the ills in the society, such as injustice and oppression by the wealthy. Hosea continued the prophetic ministry of Amos during the troubled times following the fall of Samaria in 721 BC (Lasor et al. 1996). Welch also referred to the book of Hosea as containing a collection of oracles delivered by the prophet in Northern Israel (Welch 1927). Amos came to the North to denounce Jeroboam’s court. Unlike Amos, who was from Judah, Hosea was from the North. He was to minister to his own people, which he did without apology. Not much is known about Hosea’s early life except his unenviable or tragic marriage with Gomer and his prophetic ministry (Lasor et al. 1996). Hosea is often compared to Jeremiah and John because of his remarkably compassionate tone; the tone comes from his own rejection and suffering, which gave him a glimpse into God’s heartbreak and was stamped with an imprint of divine compassion’ (Lasor et al. 1996, p. 10).

Chapter 7 of Hosea is dated 732 BC, when political and military chaos was caused by religious disloyalty. Hosea 7: 3–8 focusses on the domestic crisis leading to the assassination of the king. In 7:7, Hosea referred to continuous startling caused by the civic and political unrest: ‘All their kings have faltered; none of them calls upon me’. In the same vein, 8:4 says: ‘They made Kings not through me, they set up princes without my knowledge’. The alliance Israel made with Egypt is referenced in vv. 7–11. This reference, scholars assume, was the second half of King Hoshea’s reign. He, unsatisfied with the vassal role to Assyria after the death of Tiglath Pileser in 727 BCE, sought refuge and support from Egypt for his opposition of Shalmaneser. ‘Ephraim has become like a dove silly and without sense, they called to Egypt, they go to Assyria’ (12:1). The third verse of Hosea 4 illustrates the voice of the earth community in reaction to the alliances which had made Samaria an imperial authority over its inhabitants.

Various cultures in Africa have expressed the interconnectivity of humans and other inhabitants of the earth. In Africa, a community comprises the living, the divine, and the environment. It is also believed that land and trees have a spiritual reverence and connection to the lives of people. In Daniel chapter 4, a tree became a symbol of the great king Nebuchadnezzar, and he dreamed that a command was given to cut down the tree and leave the stump, which showed that he would not be utterly destroyed. In African communities, the death of a great man is likened to the fall of the Iroko tree—the king of trees (Oral History). Most African societies practise the burying of a newborn baby’s placenta under an economic seed or plant in the compound. The growth of these trees is a constant reminder that the child has a place in that home. It is often a bad omen when a healthy tree falls without warning.

Hosea 1: 12 says: ‘Ephraim feedeth on wind and follows after the east wind; he daily increases lies and desolation, and they do make a covenant with the Assyrians, and oil is carried into Egypt’. ‘Wind’ in this passage is a symbol of chaos, strife, political commotion, and war, which Ephraim is deliberately and ignorantly desiring. In the prophetic books of Jeremiah 49:35–37, 51:1, and Daniel 7:2, ‘wind’ is often referred to as a symbol of unrest and commotion, which usually leads to political unrest and war that is meant to enslave people. This wind is more frequent in winter and early spring, when, if it continues long enough, the tender vegetation is parched up, and a year of famine follows. Both man and beast feel sick while it prevails.

Hence, that which is unpleasant and revolting in life is compared by Orientals to the east wind. The idea expressed by the east wind here is the same in Job 15:2, combining the notions of destructiveness and emptiness. The covenant with Assyria refers to the events of the reign of Hoshea. Covenants with Assyria and presents to Egypt were, to Hosea, curses in disguise (Hos 7:11). The parching east wind combines the ideas of destructiveness and emptiness. Finally, Ephraim indeed meant the destructiveness and emptiness they desired.

9. Ecoreading of ‘Coloniality of Power’ in Hosea and the African Application

The ecoreading of the ’coloniality of power’ within the biblical book of Hosea and its resonance with the African experience has been a subject of scholarly investigation. Building upon previous research, this analysis draws upon works that explore the intersection of theology, colonialism, and ecological concerns. In Segovia and Tolbert’s Decolonizing Biblical Studies (Segovia and Tolbert 2000), the authors propose a framework for interpreting biblical texts through postcolonial and ecological perspectives. They argue that understanding power dynamics within the context of coloniality is crucial for dismantling oppressive systems. This framework serves as a foundation for analysing power imbalances within Hosea’s narrative and how they reflect colonial structures.

Drawing from The Postcolonial Biblical Reader, edited by R. S. Sugirtharajah (2006), the application of postcolonial theory to African contexts highlights how the colonial legacy continues to shape power dynamics. By viewing Hosea through this lens, scholars have examined how the narrative’s themes of domination, exploitation, and liberation intersect with Africa’s history of colonisation and decolonisation struggles. Moreover, Hosea’s call to land, water, and the ecological dimensions of Hosea’s message highlight the interconnectedness of coloniality, environmental degradation, and systemic oppression, aligning with an ecoreading of the text that reveals how the exploitation of land and resources mirrors colonial power dynamics.

Interrogating Hosea’s prophecy, as outlined in chapters 4 and 7, gives the opportunity to see the narratives from an Afrocentric angle:

• Ephraim’s continuous wickedness and sin hinder God’s forgiveness of the nation. Falsehood and robbery were part of Samaria’s woes. Africa is one of the richest continents in the world, but apart from the colonial effect on the land, greed, falsehood, and covetousness have kept the continent in almost a state of underdevelopment. It experiences extortion, not only from foreigners but also from within. The rich are getting richer while the poor are getting poorer. There is no justice in the land.
• They lacked a sense of consequences, as Hosea 7:2 rightly puts it: ‘They consider not in their hearts that I remember their wickedness’. This act is a blatant way of disregarding God’s supremacy and love for their hearts and lives. A sense of consequence in every behaviour can limit the atrocities people commit daily.
• The opening verse of chapter 4 reports a case between God and Israel on the occasion of their sins of lack of truth, mercy, and knowledge of God’s reign in the land: God has a controversy with the inhabitants of the land. Here, there is a strong connection between the inhabitant, or man, and the land in which he dwells. The world hates the truth and constantly seeks to heap upon them those religious teachers who will love to tell them what they desire to hear.
• As outlined in verse 2 of chapter 4, swearing, lying, killing, stealing, and committing adultery break out and ‘blood touches blood’.

The colonial effect on the land of Israel resulted in the problem faced by the people. Even after God redeemed Israel from the hand of Egypt and those nations that oppressed them, they found themselves constantly desiring to entangle themselves with the kings of other nations. Just like the colonial effect in Hosea that led to injustice, oppression, and abuse of land by the kings and the wealthy, Africa has suffered the same fate at the hands of the colonialists.

There is an axiom that ‘when the white man came to Africa, he had the Bible and we had the land; the white man said let us pray; after the prayer, he had the land and we had the Bible’. This axiom is popularly used to show the role of colonialists in oppressing and degrading Africa (Berman et al. 2021, p. 27). It also shows how the colonialists deceptively used the Bible to subjugate and oppress Africans during colonial imperialism, just to loot our resources and make their land wealthy. This axiom also defines a critical time when colonised sub-Saharan Africans lost their land to the ideologies of subjugation under colonialism, imperialism, land commodities, and capitalism (Berman et al. 2021, p. 27).

10. Conclusions

In evaluating the environmental difficulties described in prophet Hosea’s text through an African lens, this research gives a fresh perspective on them. We discover a substantial change from Yahweh’s mandated land-use principles to those imposed by Assyria and Egypt. This transition thus received the adoption by Samaria and established an ‘imperial singleness’ on Israel’s land-use practices and its alignment with foreign imperial powers. This change classifies Samaria’s monarchy as a ‘localised imperial singularity,’ deviating from the common relationship with the divine, mankind, and the earth itself. Furthermore, this study emphasises the importance of understanding historical narratives in their socio-environmental settings, as well as the usefulness of such insights for modern environmental conservation efforts.

By realising the effects of ‘imperial singleness’ on land usage and ecological balance, one is better fit to understand the interplay between dynamics of power, spirituality, and environment in our desire for a sustainable, interconnected world. Such ‘imperial singleness’ defies the ecological principle of the interconnectedness of humans and the earth, and thus, encroaches on the principle of voice, which opens room for resistance as the earth retaliates through its mourning and leads to the languishing of the inhabitants: humans, the beasts of the field and the fowls of heaven, and even the extinction of the fishes of the sea (Hos 4:3). In the African context, as in Hosea, disaster, poor harvest, and incessant death are a result of taboos against the land and the divine. The land revolts, and until justice is served, the entire land and its inhabitants suffer the consequences of drought, famine, misfortune, etc. Otọ (or the earth) becomes a retributive channel for the socioeconomic evil committed in the land.