A Biblical Critique Of Africa’s Inaction In Gaza

By Emmanuel Mihiingo Kaija, Senior Pastor – Uganda Assemblies Of God

The Gaza humanitarian crisis of 2025 lays bare not only a geopolitical catastrophe but a profound theological and ethical test for Africa—a continent whose historical and spiritual identity is deeply intertwined with narratives of suffering, liberation, and prophetic witness. To truly understand Africa’s response—or conspicuous inaction—it is necessary to begin by unpacking fundamental biblical concepts and their classical roots. The concept of justice stems from the Latin justitia, rooted in jus meaning “law” or “right,” but in biblical theology, the Greek dikaiosyne (δικαιοσύνη) conveys a more holistic notion of righteousness, encompassing covenantal faithfulness and ethical uprightness that demands liberation of the oppressed and restoration of right relationships. This theological justice compels active resistance to injustice, a calling Africa has historically embraced through its rich liberation theology traditions and vibrant faith communities. Yet today, Africa’s cautious diplomatic posture and muted humanitarian engagement reveal a disturbing gap between this sacred heritage and contemporary praxis.

The who in this context involves a complex constellation of actors: African governments, the African Union, and a Christian population exceeding 631 million (Pew Research Center, 2025), alongside myriad faith-based organizations and civil society movements. African churches, imbued with the biblical call to diakonia—service and ministry—have historically been at the forefront of social transformation, advocating for justice from apartheid South Africa to contemporary struggles in Sudan and the Democratic Republic of Congo. Yet, despite constituting approximately 20% of UN peacekeepers globally (UN Peacekeeping Statistics, 2023), Africa’s engagement with Gaza remains tepid. Some African theologians and leaders attempt to contextualize this hesitation within realpolitik or a prioritization of domestic concerns; however, this pragmatic stance often neglects the prophetic imperative articulated by Archbishop Desmond Tutu, who warned that “If you are neutral in situations of injustice, you have chosen the side of the oppressor.” Such neutrality risks complicity—a term derived from Latin complicare, “to fold together,” implying entanglement in injustice. The Gaza people themselves—nearly two million civilians living amid siege and devastation—stand as the vulnerable plēsion (neighbor), whom Scripture commands us to love and defend, regardless of geography.

The what of the crisis is staggering: over 58,000 Palestinians killed, predominantly women and children, with nearly 1.9 million displaced (UN OCHA Gaza, July 2025). More than 70% of Gaza’s population relies on humanitarian aid due to destroyed infrastructure (UNRWA, 2025). The Hebrew root ‘ābad (עָבַד), meaning “to serve” or “to labor,” is tragically inverted, as Gaza’s capacity for self-sustaining life is decimated. Africa’s silence on this crisis is more than diplomatic reticence; it constitutes a failure to enact biblical dikaiosyne, the justice that “loosens the bonds of wickedness” (Isaiah 58:6). This stands in stark contrast to Africa’s past prophetic stances during the apartheid struggle and regional conflicts like Darfur and South Sudan, where African churches and civil society mobilized quickly to denounce injustice and aid victims. For instance, during the Darfur crisis, African faith leaders like Bishop Paride Taban of South Sudan took courageous stands, advocating for peace and relief despite risks, demonstrating the power of prophetic witness grounded in parresia—boldness in speech and action.

The when of Africa’s response reveals a troubling delay and hesitancy. The Gaza crisis escalated rapidly in 2025, yet Africa’s statements remained largely cautious and fragmented. This contrasts markedly with Africa’s timely and effective mobilization during the 2014 Ebola epidemic, when faith communities leveraged their extensive social networks to provide vital healthcare and public education (WHO, 2016–2019). The biblical concept of kairós—the appointed or opportune time—calls for discernment and urgent action; failure to act in kairós is tantamount to neglecting the divine mandate. Psalm 82:3 exhorts believers to “defend the weak and the fatherless; uphold the cause of the poor and the oppressed,” emphasizing the urgency of intervention. Africa’s delay thus signifies a missed kairós moment, prolonging human suffering and raising questions about theological coherence and prophetic courage.

The where of responsibility, though physically centered in Gaza, extends spiritually and morally to Africa and the global community. The biblical notion of plēsion, or neighbor, transcends geographic boundaries, demanding solidarity across continents (Leviticus 19:18). African Christianity, shaped by interwoven histories of colonization, mission, and indigenous spiritualities, embodies a global vision that cannot ignore Gaza’s cries. Theological reflections from African scholars such as John Mbiti emphasize that “I am because we are,” underscoring interconnectedness and mutual responsibility. This ethic renders Africa’s silence particularly jarring, revealing a dissonance between theological ideals and geopolitical realities.

The why behind Africa’s restraint is multifaceted, involving political, economic, and theological dynamics. Politically, African states often tread cautiously due to strategic alliances, economic dependencies on Middle Eastern countries, and fears of international reprisal. Economically, despite widespread poverty, Africa received $62 billion in Official Development Assistance in 2024 alone (OECD, 2024), indicating resources that could be mobilized for humanitarian engagement. Theologically, a tension exists between the continent’s radical liberation theology heritage—which mandates solidarity with the oppressed—and realpolitik, where state interests and diplomatic caution prevail. This tension reflects a struggle between ethos (moral character) and politika (affairs of state), challenging African churches and governments to reconcile faith with policy. Liberation theologian James Cone’s insistence that “Christian theology must be rooted in the experience of oppressed peoples” (A Black Theology of Liberation, 1970) calls for a courageous re-engagement with prophetic witness that overcomes political expediency.

The how of Africa’s biblical response demands a synthesis of prophetic boldness and practical mercy. Drawing on Esther’s fearless advocacy (parresia), the New Testament call to “weep with those who weep” (Romans 12:15), and Christ’s instruction to be “salt and light” (Matthew 5:13-16), African churches and governments must harness their significant social capital—providing 30–40% of healthcare services continent-wide (WHO, 2023)—to mobilize humanitarian aid and diplomatic pressure. African governments should unite their voices in international forums, moving beyond rhetorical concern to concrete action, including resource allocation and advocacy for ceasefires and relief corridors. Moreover, Africa’s response should align with international humanitarian law, such as the Geneva Conventions, which mandate protection of civilians in conflict zones, thereby grounding faith-inspired activism within global legal ethics. African faith leaders, recalling prophetic examples like Bishop Desmond Tutu and Bishop Paride Taban, must amplify advocacy and forge alliances that transcend political and geographic boundaries. This comprehensive response reflects Amos 5:24’s vision that “justice rolls down like waters, and righteousness like an ever-flowing stream,” blending lex (law) and gratia (grace) in a holistic pursuit of divine justice.

Incorporating narrative voices enriches this critique: testimonies from Gaza’s survivors and statements from African church leaders lamenting the crisis evoke the human cost and ethical urgency. As Sister Mary Josephine, a nurse in Gaza, recently testified, “Each day brings new loss and despair; the world’s silence is our heaviest burden.” Similarly, Archbishop Desmond Tutu’s words resonate today as a clarion call: “Without justice, there can be no true peace.” Africa must heed this call, transforming lament into prophetic action.

In conclusion, Africa’s inaction amid Gaza’s humanitarian catastrophe constitutes a profound theological and ethical challenge, exposing tensions between prophetic ideals and political realities. Yet Scripture offers an unambiguous summons to justice, mercy, and courageous advocacy. Africa’s rich heritage of liberation theology and prophetic witness uniquely equips it to meet this challenge, but only if political expediency yields to moral clarity and compassionate action. By uniting diplomatic efforts, mobilizing humanitarian resources, and embodying biblical justice, Africa can reclaim its prophetic mantle as a continent of peacemakers and champions of divine justice. This path forward not only honors the biblical vision but affirms Africa’s role as a global moral conscience—demonstrating that true faith manifests not in silence, but in steadfast, loving action toward the oppressed.