Freedomland Contra Katongole: Youth Secessionist Politics in Cameroon and the Hauerwasian Trend in African Theology

Abstract

Theological studies of the Anglophone crisis in Cameroon have centred upon the question of secession. Those opposed to the creation of an independent (freedomland) Anglophone state (Ambazonia) draw extensively on the work of Emmanuel Katongole and Stanley Hauerwas, whose outright opposition to the nation state has shaped a number of African theologians. This essay engages the voices of Anglophone young people caught up in the crisis and brings them into dialogue with these professional theologians.

1. Introduction

While there have been a number of studies documenting the historical causes of Anglophone marginalisation in Cameroon, including the impact of the slave trade (Vassady 1979; Austen 1995; Everill 2012; Pardue 2020), colonialism (Ngwa 2005; Atangana 1997; Awasom 2000; Fanso 1999), and the period after independence (Chem-Langhëë 1995; Doho 2010; Nfor 2014; Dah n.d.), this essay engages with the voices of contemporary young people entangled in this conflict in order to understand their vision for the future of the nation (Kingsley 2025). The essay contrasts their position with what might be described as a Hauerwasian trend in African political theology, which, for philosophical reasons, rejects the nation state project altogether (Katongole 2000; Koopman 2005, pp. 149–64; Vosloo 2004, p. 69; Bafinamene 2016, 2017, pp. 1–10; Ngong 2015). However, before exploring these ideas, it is helpful to offer some background information on the crisis in Cameroon. This will be followed by an introduction to the philosophical roots of what might be described as an anti-nationalist/Hauerwasian trend within African political theology.

In 2016, frustration in the Anglophone regions of Cameroon boiled over onto the streets. Protesters opposed to the imposition of the French language in courts and schools peacefully petitioned the government to honour the constitution. Hundreds were arrested, several people were shot dead and Anglophone church leaders were taken to court for encouraging the closure of schools. Those who tried to document the abuses committed by the security forces on social media soon found that the internet had been switched off by the government, which disconnected six million Anglophones from the worldwide web. When peaceful protests were rendered impossible by the brutality of the security forces, young men and women took up arms and declared an independent nation of Ambazonia for the Anglophone regions. Over time, the situation has deteriorated considerably, with violent atrocities being committed by both government forces and armed separatists (Pratt Morris-Chapman 2022, p. 1).

Having illustrated the context in which this study is based, the present article seeks to platform the voices of young people embroiled in the current crisis. Their reflections on the nature and identity of Cameroon today, and their dreams concerning what it might become, are brought into dialogue with the Hauerwasian school within contemporary African political theology. In particular, their aspirations for the future of Cameroon are connected with a Hauerwasian conception of imagination, so as to envision a nation liberated from oppression: “freedomland”.

2. A Hauerwasian Trend in African Political Theology

While Anglophones in Cameroon have been struggling for independence, within African political theology, there is considerable resistance to the idea of the nation state. Inspired by the work of the American theologian Stanley Hauerwas, the critique these writers make of the nation state is intrinsically philosophical. Essentially, Hauerwas argues that an Enlightenment fantasy, where “the political and ethical realm may be grounded in a neutral rational foundation”, leads to violence (Hauerwas 1984, p. 17; Kant [1785] 1910, p. 408). Hauerwas thus rejects the political vision of Enlightenment figures, such as Immanuel Kant, because he considers that this misguided objectification of the state leads governments to violently coerce their people (Hauerwas 2005, p. 539). Utilising Hauerwas’ arguments, Katongole’s (2011) Sacrifice of Africa maintains that the story of the nation state in Africa is always the “same story of state brutality” (Katongole 2011, p. 15). He writes:

“The goal of Hauerwas critical project has been to undermine the foundational epistemological, sociological and political assumptions that provide [the state] with such metanarrative singularity. The effect of this singularity is to arrogantly claim for oneself the power… the violence involved in such imperialistic self-posturing calls for a critique”.

(Katongole 2000, p. 250)

Thus, Katongole considers the nation state to be the root of a myriad of problems in Africa. Selectively examining the troubled history of countries such as the Democratic Republic of Congo, he makes little or no mention of counterexamples such as Botswana or Ghana. Indeed, he views the Congo’s story as a “lens through which” to view nations across the continent as a whole, which he describes as being possessed by the “same story of the politics of greed, dispossession, and state brutality” (Katongole 2011, p. 15). Katongole’s principal argument is that (I) the nation state project is intrinsically violent. Secondly, he believes that (II) African nations have failed because, unlike European nations, they were not the result of a grassroots struggle which viewed the nation as a tool for liberation (Katongole 2019, pp. 346–59).

While this latter point (II) is predicated entirely upon the English historian Basil Davidson’s thesis (that post-independence African nations failed because the colonial powers transplanted nationalism as an essential feature of modernisation), his main argument (I) is influenced by the writings of Stanley Hauerwas (Davidson 1992, p. 137). It is essentially these arguments that undergird Katongole’s rejection of the nation state and, more importantly, the opposition of the Cameroonian theologian David Ngong to the secession of the Anglophone regions of Cameroon (Katongole 2005, pp. 145–71; Ngong 2022, pp. 645–61). Thus, before proceeding further, it is worth subjecting the underlying Hauerwasian principle (I) governing their position to scrutiny.

In contrast to Enlightenment thinkers like Kant, who considered moral laws to be objectively founded upon a universal conception of reason (Kant [1785] 1910, p. 408), Hauerwas does not believe ethics can be based upon a neutral rational foundation (Hauerwas 1984, p. 17). Indeed, Hauerwas considers the attempt to base ethics on a rational foundation to be a form of violence, because he believes that it coerces people to be ethical because it is objectively rational. He therefore rejects natural law ethics, arguing that “the universal presumptions of natural law make it more difficult for us to accept those who do not agree with us”, and thus, can lead us into trying to force them to agree with us (Hauerwas 1984, p. 61). Hauerwas considers that Christians should not seek to impose their values upon the world. Indeed, he considers it better for Christians to “endure injustice” than to seek justice “from the barrel of a gun” (Hauerwas 1984, p. 106). He emphasises that if God rules creation through a cross, Christians should not seek to control the world through coercion (Hauerwas 1984, p. 104).

Essentially, Hauerwas’ opposition to the very idea of the nation state is philosophical, in that it is linked to his adoption of (epistemological) nonfoundationalism (Katongole 2000, pp. 5, 27–28; Kant [1785] 1910, p. 408). In its simplest terms, in contrast to epistemological “foundationalists” who argue that there are some “basic beliefs” which do not require justification and which thus offer a foundation for knowledge, nonfoundationalism upholds that our conception of the way things are, political or otherwise, has no objective basis, and as a result, it is not possible to make a rational choice between alternative conceptual schemes. In keeping with this outlook, nonfoundationalist thinkers, such as Rorty (1991, pp. 21–34), maintain that decisions concerning “which theory to adopt are made … because they are properly discussed and chosen by a consensus of ‘rational discussants’, by a community of people coming to agreement about something” (Pratt Morris-Chapman 2007, p. 54). In keeping with this position, Hauerwas rejects the idea that the legitimacy of the state can be grounded upon any neutral rational foundation (Hauerwas 2005, p. 539). For Hauerwas, all forms of political organisation are unfounded narratives (Hauerwas 1984, p. 84). In sum, he equates foundationalism with violence and the attempt to structure society upon a rational foundation as a form of violence, because it forces people to behave in a certain way because it is considered rational (Hauerwas 1984, p. 17).

Katongole is shaped considerably by Hauerwas' epistemological orientation and believes that, at the heart of the nation state, there is an arrogance that fails to recognise the value of other cultures and traditions. Like Hauerwas he rejects “the foundational epistemological, sociological, and political assumptions” which would support the “metanarrative singularity” of any religion or political ideology because the “effect of this singularity is to arrogantly claim for oneself the power” to violently impose a true universal form of life on others (Katongole 2000, p. 250). Therefore, like Hauerwas, Katongole rejects nationalism because he considers it to have faulty epistemological premises. Moreover, he infers that the rejection of both nationalism and foundationalism (nonfoundationalism) enables a humility that allows traditions to “recognize” their limits and discover value in alternative communities and peoples (Katongole 2000, pp. 176–7). The same tendency is visible in the writings of the Cameroonian theologian David Ngong (2007, pp. 1–10), who argues that “truth claims are proposals for consideration” in that “truth is discovered in lived life and not assumed a priori.” Thus, from this nonfoundational perspective, “truth claims are not seen as being an alternative or a solution to the problems a people face because no group of people has a monopoly on truth” (Ngong 2015, p. 102). This illustrates how these different writers utilise nonfoundational approaches to truth in order to reject the violence of nationalism, which they consider to be quintessentially foundationalist (Ngong 2022, pp. 645–61). However, it is important to point out here that their attraction to this nonfoundationalist epistemological orientation does not necessarily require them (philosophically) to discard the nation state project. Nevertheless, it seems their rejection is directly connected to their dismissal of what they perceive to be its philosophical grounds. However, Hauerwas, Katongole and Ngong’s philosophical criticisms of nationalism are at variance with contemporary discussions of the formation of the liberal nation state.

Hauerwas’ understanding of nationalism is at variance with the relevant literature. A powerful illustration of this is Benedict Anderson, who has convincingly argued for what might be termed a (nonfoundationalist) Wittgensteinian conception of the nation state. This is because he maintains that nations are imagined communities arising as a result of the “introduction of printing in common languages, which united different local dialects to create national languages” and ultimately a national consciousness (Xidias 2017, pp. 31–32). While he accepts that Enlightenment rationalism shaped emerging nations, he maintains that it was “the availability of books in common languages”, which were decisive in spreading these Enlightenment concepts (Anderson 2006, pp. 5–6). This indicates that Hauerwas' conflation of the nation state project, violence and philosophical foundationalism is mistaken. Indeed, if Anderson is correct, it is the printing press that gave “a new fixity to language” and enabled people to think of themselves as belonging to a wider community, external to the confines of traditional notions of belonging. Thus, the “printing press” united different peoples and dialects by creating a common language (Xidias 2017, pp. 33–34). Anderson thus defines the nation state as “an imagined political community” imagined because “in the mind of each [person] lives the image of their communion” (Anderson 2006, pp. 5–6).

The above illustrates how developments in Anglophone Cameroon are entirely consistent with Anderson’s conception of the emergence of nation states. Moreover, the bottom-up nature of this revolution coheres with Davidson’s thesis that, to be successful, nations must be the result of a grassroots struggle that views the nation as a tool for liberation. While Ngong rejects Anglophone secession, Anglophone national consciousness makes perfect sense, given:

(1)

The predominant use of English in the education system in the Anglophone regions;

(2)

A wide array of literature, newspapers and other publications are available in English in the Anglophone regions;

(3)

The growing influence of English social media in the Anglophone regions.

In sum, Anglophone nationalism in Cameroon is commensurate with Anderson’s thesis that the rise of national consciousness is directly connected to language (Konings and Nyamnjoh 2003, pp. 10–11). Having raised questions about the theoretical objections to nationalism advanced by these professional theologians, it is necessary to explore how the voices of young people caught up in the Anglophone conflict might inform the question under discussion.

3. Voices from the Margins: Listening to Anglophone Youth

At the outset, it is necessary to offer a rationale for bringing ordinary Cameroonian voices into dialogue with theological heavyweights like Stanley Hauerwas. Liberation theologians, such as Gustavo Guitierez, maintain that God is revealed in the struggles of marginalised peoples like the Anglophone community in Cameroon. Thus, by attending to the voices of Anglophone Cameroonians, particularly to the views of the armed separatists, these marginal voices become a source for theological reflection in that they express the lived reality of suffering, hope and resistance. (Gutiérrez 1970, pp. 243–61).

Having illustrated why theological reflection must be rooted in the presence and concrete action of ordinary people living within this particular context, it is important to acknowledge that the ongoing war within Cameroon makes empirical research within the war-torn regions of the country practically impossible. According to Nshom, even “though the literature on this conflict has been growing, there is still a need for empirical studies on this conflict that focus on anglophone individuals” (Nshom 2025). However, in 2023, interviews with Anglophone separatists were conducted (Kingsley 2025). These interviews engaged two groups of youth between the ages of 18 and 35 (male and female), including: (1) those who had taken up arms (fifteen youth) against the Cameroonian government in order to set up an independent country “Ambazonia”/“Freedomland” and (2) those who had been internally displaced (twenty) by the violence, fleeing to Francophone areas. For the first group, interviews occurred in two areas: (a) Meme, South West Cameroon, and (b) Mezam, North West Cameroon. The second internally displaced group were interviewed in Douala (Kingsley 2025, p. 40). While this is a limited range of voices, the views articulated within the research resonate with other studies, which indicate widespread support for the secession of the Anglophone regions (Nshom et al. 2023). For example, after interviewing 314 people, Nshom found that “support for a unitary state or the current form of state was extremely low”, whereas “support for an independent state and a federal state was high” (Nshom 2025).

At this juncture, it is helpful to explain that separatist fighters often adopt nicknames such as “General Spider”, with whom we shall begin. He stated that “I was a teacher in north west without salary… I was asked to give Fr.600,000 before I could be recruited….” He continued, “I now live my life like a viper because I strike when I have [to] so I live where the night meets me” (Kingsley 2025, p. 45). Similar reasons were given for taking up arms by Rasaq, who comes from Buea in the South West and is a graduate of economics. Rasaq stated that “I went to Nigeria to train as a freedom fighter… I know that very soon we shall reach our destination… Complete independence. I imagine that our country Amazonia can have independence so that we can work” (Kingsley 2025, p. 41). The economic backdrop and lack of opportunities that has driven many to violence is captured in a separate interview with another soldier called Spider. This young man from Bamenda in the North West has a master’s degree in linguistics but was unable find work. In his own words he said that “I have been an applicant for more than 10 years and finally settled as a bike rider.” However, when the crisis began he revealed that “presently I am not living with my family, I am living in the bush because I want to fight and liberate my people” (Kingsley 2025, p. 43). The case of this young man, who is highly educated, starkly reveals the situation in Anglophone Cameroon, where, before the crisis began, postgraduate degree holders had to become motorcycle taxi riders to have any income at all.

Given the above, it is small wonder that this frustration has boiled over. General Lucifer offers another example of this. Before the crisis, General Lucifer was a graduate of the history Department of the University of Yaoundé:

In the University which was considered a bilingual university… all our lecturers were French speaking…. I now live in Meme as you can see with my boys because we want to liberate our homeland. I want to free Ambazonia [so our] children can speak English and be judged in court in our own language that you can understand and we manage our own resources”.

(Kingsley 2025, p. 43)

The injustice of being sentenced in a court of law in a language not understood by millions of the Anglophone population cropped up a number of times. For example, a man who goes by the name Scorpion said, “before the crisis my late father’s properties was seized because my mother could not defend herself in the court judged by a French judge and I did not understand anything during that court session” (Kingsley 2025, p. 47).

On the whole, there was a general feeling of exhaustion with the injustice of the system. To take an example, “I am here in the bush because I am sick and tired of this system. No jobs, French dominance and exploitation… I want to kick them out of our land. I want to see these colonialism [gone].… These French people really dominate our schools judicial system. I was very angry… Policeman exploit us… Speak French to us and when we have a problem with a French speaker they will favour them and send us to prison” (Kingsley 2025, p. 49). Another said, “I am fighting to free Ambarland. I want La Republic to go back to their country and leave our country alone (Kingsley 2025, p. 48). In a similar vein, another stated that “I am here to save my people to fight and defend them I wish to see my people free from the tyranny of the French people” (Kingsley 2025, p. 46). Among these armed separatists, there was a general disdain for French speakers and a desire to be free of them.

It should be stressed here that the exhaustion and fatigue at the ongoing marginalisation of Anglophones has even led those with good economic situations to fight. Indeed, not all were unemployed before this crisis started. For example, General White explained that he had moved from Bambili, where he was a category A civil servant. However, he stated that “I have sacrificed my life to fight for my people… and I live where night meets me” (Kingsley 2025, p. 44). This indicates that the motivation for these fighters is not simply unemployment. There is a desire for real freedom and, tragically, also for revenge.

The testimony of a widow, who before the crisis was a student, is perhaps the most heart-wrenching:

I was living happily with my fiancé and I was a first-year student in University Buea studying nursing but when schools were disturbed and some of my friends taken to prison I went back to the village for safety only for me to witness the execution of my parents and fiancé in the early morning 2017… I am living in the camp now, my intention revenge… My fiancé was killed by the military the same day with my parents. I was raped and abandoned to die I was left no option than to revenge. …I do not want to fight with anyone I have lost all even my dignity as a woman. What do I have in this life

(Kingsley 2025, p. 46)

Women have been seriously violated by the crisis. Three other widows interviewed relayed how their husbands had been shot, whether by stray bullets or being falsely accused by the military of being separatists (Kingsley 2025).

Another real problem in this setting is the closure of schools, which has displaced many of the young people. For example, one of the fighters interviewed, Iyk, had been a GCSE student in Kumba. He stated that “before the crisis I had dreams of becoming a medical doctor.” After the crisis began, he said, “as many more houses are burnt and more people are dying I can’t remain indifferent … all my family has lost property and close relatives so I must fight.… I am a freedom fighter… I am fighting to free our land, we must reach Buea… We will take this fight to the end” (Kingsley 2025, p. 42). Another said that when “school stopped, I had no hopes to study I had no hopes of pursuing my dreams so I had to join the struggle with that I can use my intelligence and fight to liberate my homeland” (Kingsley 2025, p. 47). Having listened to the views of some young people who have taken up arms against the government, it is essential to also explore the views of those who have remained peaceful, despite the overwhelming situation.

As was indicated earlier, a second group of young people were also interviewed who had not succumbed to violence (Kingsley 2025, p. 50). These were internally displaced Anglophones staying in Douala. However, whilst this later group of interviewees had resisted violence, their internal displacement within Cameroon had led to several difficulties, including the premature ending of their studies. While some had turned to hairdressing on the streets of the capital, others had become house boys and girls, and those who had the means had entered the French education system. All recounted experiences of terrible violence, including “killings and burnings of houses” being “sent away from our house by the military” and being “targeted” because they were “young guys” who could be recruited by separatists or falsely accused (Kingsley 2025, p. 51). This resonates with a separate earlier study, where a mother interviewed described how her son, whom she had sent to buy a gas canister, was incarcerated and falsely accused by the police of being “General Scorpion”. They had beaten him badly and accused him of being a terrorist. He remained in jail until the mother was able to raise F300,000 (Pratt Morris-Chapman 2022, p. 34).

Of this latter group, there were also young people who had been farming before the war began but had given up farming after receiving threats from separatists who buried one man alive, for going to his farm when they had declared a lockdown to stall the economy (in order to force the government to the negotiating table). Many of these former farmers have struggled to hustle for work on the streets of the capital as petty traders (Kingsley 2025, p. 50). In this group, those who had refused to succumb to the violence, there was a feeling that the only real solution was “sincere”, “genuine’ dialogue, implying that the government’s pretence towards peacemaking has been suspect. Nevertheless, these youth want the separatists and the government “to talk out their differences” to “understand each other” to “let both parties cease fire and come to an agreement because [innocent] ones are suffering”. However, they asserted that for “justice and peace to reign” the “solution is independence” (Kingsley 2025, p. 51).

4. Imagining Ambazonia: Engaging Youth Secessionism and Political Theology

In this last section I want to explore how these voices might inform political theology in this context by exploring how they might feed into the imagination of Ambazonia, so vivid among the young people interviewed (Kingsley 2025). Before proceeding, however, it is important to acknowledge that theological reflection on the formation of new countries is a neglected area in contemporary political theology.1 An exception to this is Doug Gay’s insightful work Honey from the Lion: Christianity and the Ethics of Nationalism (Gay 2013). Reflecting on the Scottish context, Gay maintains that Christian theology does not in principle prohibit the creation of new countries and explores how human flourishing might be advanced by the secession of Scotland from the United Kingdom. In short, Gay argues that while secession is by no means always good, it is not by nature an immoral act forbidden by Christian theology. Nevertheless, it does require ethical justification. While the idea of a neutral objective foundation for ethics has proved ephemeral, Gay’s work serves to show that the rejection of foundationalism does not remove the possibility of a morally serious approach that promotes the common good of all concerned. Using the language of “relative merit”, he evaluates whether or not secession might offer a better socio-economic reality for the people of Scotland. While it is not possible to do justice to these profound questions here, it is clear that similar arguments can be made in relation to the present discussion. For example, at a financial level, the Anglophones have suffered considerable economic marginalisation for over half a century under the Cameroon government. Moreover, at the social level, the discrimination faced by Anglophones is considerable. Essentially, they are made to feel like foreigners within their own country. This would suggest that, unless there are serious reforms to the current political configuration in Cameroon, secession may offer a better option (2022, pp. 139–40). At this juncture, however, I want to explore how the voices of young people might inform the reimagination of Cameroon, so vivid among the young people interviewed. For example, if Benedict Anderson is correct that nations are imagined communities, how might Cameroon or even Ambazonia become a place where all people can flourish?

Within the interviews cited above, it is possible to discern three themes, including: (1) the imagination of a new political reality, (2) the courage to realise that vision and (3) impatience with the current political situation. What is interesting here is that similar themes are utilised by the public theologian Dion Forster in his essay “Living more decently in an indecent world” (Forster 2022). What is particularly surprising (given Hauerwas’ opposition to the nation state) is the way in which Forster utilises Hauerwas’s work to imagine a better South Africa. While Hauerwas’ muddled foundationalist conception of nationalism, and its permeation within African political theology, leads him and others (Katongole 2000; Ngong 2022) to an outright rejection of the nation state, Forster develops Hauerwas’ work on virtue to reimagine the nation, exploring how Hauerwas’ discussion of imagination, courage and patience as central virtues might lead to a better South Africa (Forster 2022, p. 1). This indicates the possibility that Hauerwas’ work might, bizarrely, offer a contribution to the imagination of Ambazonia or indeed the reimagination of Cameroon.

At the outset, it is important to acknowledge that the above might seem like a misappropriation of Hauerwas’ thought. However, this interpretation fails to account for the central role played by imagination in the formation of nations (Anderson 2006). For example, exploring the question of nationalism in relation to an independent Scotland, Gay recognises that nationalism can indeed conjure up horrifying political fantasies. However, writing during the lead-up to the Scottish referendum on independence (2014), Gay harnesses the imaginative resources contained within the Christian tradition to envisage a society which embraces pluralism and renounces imperialism, essentialism and absolutism. This indicates that Forster’s use of Hauerwas’ reflections on imagination can be a powerful tool in the Cameroonian struggle for liberation. Throughout, Gay emphasises that it all hinges upon how well we can imagine the nation to be (Gay 2013). In a similar vein, Forster explores how ideas contained in Hauerwas’ work can enable the reimagination of South Africa (Forster 2022).

4.1. Imagination

In The Character of Virtue, Hauerwas emphasises the fundamental necessity of the virtue of imagination if the world is to become a better place (Hauerwas 2018, p. 97). In a similar vein, in his book on The Work of Theology, he stresses that a central task of theology is to help us to envisage how our lives may be possessed by unacknowledged stories which prevent us from living together in peace (Hauerwas 2015, p. 29). Relating Hauerwas’ thought to his own context, Forster emphasises the importance for theologians to prophetically imagine an alternative vision of South Africa. Forster states that “our identities are formed by prevailing social and cultural imaginaries” that emerge from “our history and identity.” These, in turn, shape the contours of our politics, economics and indeed all our relationships with one another (Forster 2022, p. 19). For this reason, tensions are precipitated in the population because of the way in which people understand how their own lives relate to those around them. He maintains that because the social imagination in South Africa is underwritten by the history of colonialism and apartheid, the people of this nation must be offered an alternative vision of society. He argues that we must begin with the revitalization of our imagination by drinking deeply from sacred scripture, the creeds and the testimony of the Church to the truth of God’s vision for all people. For example, in a society plagued by poverty, racism, and spatial separation, the presence of white and black Christians worshipping together (even at the height of Apartheid) enabled a vision of how society could be, an imagination of reality which challenges those false conceptions that continue to tear society apart (Forster 2022, pp. 19–20; Ngoe 2023, p. 22).

This prophetic understanding of imagination as a virtue has much to offer to the crisis in Cameroon. The dream of freedom is evident in Voices from Ambazonia, with one interviewee explicitly stating, “I Imagined that our Country Ambazonia can have independence.” Likewise, another declared his “wish to see my people free from the tyranny of the French” (Kingsley 2025, p. 46). Tragically, this configuration of freedom identifies fellow citizens (Francophones) with colonial oppression. How can citizenship be reimagined when competing colonial grammars lead African brothers and sisters to take up arms against one another? Where the presupposition of arbitrary European linguistic criteria brings members of the same ethnic group to reject their own kin? There needs to be a reimagination of identity. Even if the Anglophone regions succeed, the peoples of the new political settlement should not be shackled to an Anglophone (or Francophone) colonial memory.

4.2. The Courage of the White Flag?

Hauerwas also stresses the importance of courage if we want the world we find ourselves in to be a “better one” (Hauerwas 2018, p. 98). In his work Who Are My People, Emmanuel Katongole powerfully narrates the courage of Rwandan Christians who sought reconciliation after the genocide (Katongole 2022, p. 49). Forster likewise defines courage as “The power of the will to strive for what is good and right, even in the face of opposition” (Katongole 2022, p. 114). This conception of courage is incisive and resonates with the values of those interviewed. However, while courage was interpreted by the Cameroonian youth as requiring them to take up arms, Katongole points out that, in Rwanda, it was courageous of Christians to resist violence and make peace. Forster illustrates a number of other ways in which this virtue might positively impact a nation. For example, he implores South Africans to have the courage “not to compromise” and to resist those who would try to bribe or manipulate people into doing wrong. For Forster, to be courageous requires us to choose love and peace. He imagines a South Africa imbued with this virtue:

What if we had the courage to be a nation [with] economic and political systems that set captives free…Courage, if it is understood in this way, will need to be embodied in our thoughts, speech and behaviour. This will require imaginative alternatives to our current lived reality.

(Forster 2022, p. 19)

While this conception of courage differs in its rejection of violence, those interviewed are fighting to realise these things. They long for a nation in which the economic and political obstacles to their liberation are dismantled, and they are willing to use their agency to achieve this goal. However, if it were possible to convince them of what Pope Francis has described as “the courage of the white flag”, the “courage to negotiate”, then it might be possible to reimagine this virtue as the courage to engage in dialogue (Chrisafis 2024). Unfortunately, the government has never shown any interest in meaningful dialogue. Thus, perhaps the onus to be courageous in negotiation lies firmly with the powers that be.

4.3. The Question of Patience?

The other virtue emphasised by Hauerwas is patience. This, however, was not something that the Cameroonian youth deemed to be a solution to the crisis. Indeed, after 44 years of misrule, how much more patience does one need to have for a leader in their 90s to turn over a new leaf? Forster recognises that such impatience is understandable; indeed, he clarifies that patience does not entail passivity in the face of injustice. On the contrary, he considers that it would be wrong to encourage people to remain silent or passive in situations of this nature. Nevertheless, he maintains that to be patient is to imitate God’s character. Jesus brought about redemption without succumbing to violence. Katongole likewise states that progress can only be realised by a people who embody patience (Katongole 2022, p. 114).

Forster’s analysis resonates with the reality in South Africa in that apartheid ended without the nation completely descending into outright civil war. Nevertheless, there are clear differences between South Africa and the Cameroonian context. First of all, while the Apartheid regime was placed under considerable pressure globally and the campaign to free Nelson Mandela garnered global support, the conflict in Cameroon is largely unknown to the outside world. Secondly, while the Apartheid government represented the interests of the white minority, the opposite is true in Cameroon, where Anglophones are a minority group. Finally, black majority rule in South Africa was understood to be the culmination of the independence movement on the continent. However, today, indeed, there is no appetite for the creation of new African states. Quite apart from Hauerwasian political theologians, there is no desire whatsoever within the African Union for what David Ngong has described as post-nationalist-nationalism. What then should Cameroonian youth be patient for?

5. Conclusions

The plight of young people in Cameroon raises a number of questions. Nevertheless, what remains clear in the above is the real desire of Anglophone young people for freedom. Their vision, courage and impatience with the status quo breed hope, despite the tragedy of the present situation. Moreover, while the philosophical reasons advanced by theologians like Hauerwas do not form a coherent objection to the secession of the Anglophone regions, writers like Katongole and Hauerwas can (despite their opposition to the very idea of the nation state) serve as a creative resource for those employed in the peaceful reimagination of how society might be and become.