1. Introduction
The prophetic terrain in the South African space has entered exciting, yet disturbing, times (
Dube et al. 2017). It is interesting, because innovations are emerging in the prophetic space, which we, or, at least, people with an orthodox or conventional theological orientation, would not have imagined. It is disturbing, because prophetic movements have evoked wars through their prophets, based on nationality, popularity, and, in some cases, jealousy. The tension between local and foreign prophets is described best by
Vorster (
2017), who says the tension is between ‘us,’ clothed in a cloud of uniqueness, and ‘them,’ clothed in a cloud of otherness. Demarcation is followed by idolising the ‘us’ and demonising the ‘them.’ This article refers to various research studies that have been conducted on prophetic movements in South Africa.
My article is placed against the background provided by various studies that have been conducted on contemporary prophets in South Africa. However, no study has focused on the conflict between local and foreign prophets. An important study was done by
Magezi and Banda (
2017), who argue that the rise of Christian ministerial practices that emphasise wealth and prosperity ultimately raises questions about the appropriateness of using church ministry and theological education as instruments for economic survival. They note, furthermore, that Africa continues to see an increase in wealthy church pastors and prophets who preach the gospel of material prosperity. They conclude their research by arguing that there is a need to instill an ecclesiology that decommodifies the church and instills within Christian ministers the idea that, even though they can expect to survive financially through their churches, they must be accountable to the churches they lead.
Kgatle (
2018) conducted a study on contemporary prophets in South Africa, and argues that the prophetic voice addresses injustices in society. While this may be true, to an extent, the prophetic voice as demonstrated by some ministries is cause for concern, due to their mafia tendencies and their disregard for social justice—an example is Seven Angels Ministry (
Dube 2019). Mafia tendencies as used in this article refer to criminality elements hidden within or in religious praxis and discourses that undermine the beauty of religion in society. Various examples of mafia tendencies will be referred to in this article as it unfolds, since it is one of the reasons for the conflict between local and foreign prophets in South Africa (
Evans 2019;
Collinson 2017; The Commission for the Promotion and Protection of the Rights of Cultural, Religious and Linguistic Communities Right (
CRL Rights Commission 2017);
Montsho 2019;
Matangira 2019;
Lindeque 2019;
TimesLIVE 2019).
Another study was conducted by
Pondani (
2019), who argues that there has been an increase in prophets who apply dangerous so-called healing practices, such as eating snakes, drinking petrol, and the popular spraying of Doom (an aerosol insecticide), which endangers the lives of congregants who are desperate for that special miraculous touch. He concludes by arguing that there is a pressing need for religious communities, governments, and organisations to guard against abusive tendencies disguised as healing, and power.
After considering recent research in this area, there is realisation that none of the article focus is on the conflict between local and foreign prophets, or had a thrust to tease and unmute discourses in South Africa, and evoke the need for prophets to be agents of change and peace. Thus, the article is unique, because of its approach to the conflict between local and foreign prophets, which originates from the three decoloniality motifs of coloniality of power, knowledge, and being. My aim is to reinvent a new prophetic order and ways of thinking—to think anew, beyond modernity and the neoliberal approach to faith praxis in South Africa. It is also unique in that it problematises practices deemed to be a source of conflict and, finally, suggests how various tenets of the Jonathanic theology can promote coexistence and peace among the various prophetic movements in South Africa.
2. Elaboration of the Problem
Conflict is not limited to the prophets, but has escalated to include the media, judiciary system, politicians, and the general populace. The attitudes of citizens toward foreign prophets are clear from a petition with almost 5900 signatories quoted by
Sain (
2018): “As the citizens of South Africa we stand together in one voice requesting our government to please close down all these foreign prophetic churches based in South Africa with immediate effect to avoid more victimisation of our citizens, whether sexually, financially, emotionally or otherwise, in the name of miracles. We request that our government regulate our churches, and monitor and evaluate their activities.”
The reasons given for demanding that foreign prophetic churches are closed down is based on a rather simplistic understanding of the problems related to religion in postcolonial states. This is because even some local prophetic movements are involved in problematic practices, as
Sain (
2018) explains, practices which, naturally, also pose a threat to humanity. For example, the Seven Angels Ministry is a local ministry that has been involved in armed robbery, constitutional delinquency, and financial misappropriation (
Dube 2019). Prophet Mnguni of End Times Disciples Ministries in Soshanguve, Pretoria, is well known for his act of feeding his followers snakes—which, he claims, turns into chocolate (
Makhudu 2018). Furthermore, Prophet Light Monyeki of Grace Living Hope Ministries, also in Soshanguve, claims to have received a shocking revelation from Prophet Monyeki: drinking rat poison mixed with water is an act of “the power of God” (
Makhudu 2018). The list of examples of both local and foreign prophets who have been caught on the wrong side of the law is endless. Nevertheless, the foreign prophets are victims of partial democracy—though the article does not say their acts of criminality are justified. My point is that crimes relating to prophetic acts are not limited to nationality, or race, but that all humanity is susceptible to crime, and that justice must be served to all, and not selectively.
Close consideration of the conflict between local and foreign prophets described above led me to realise that the prophetic movement in South Africa is marred by violence (
Ndabeni 2017;
Evans 2018;
Sun Reporter 2019). However, as noted by
Sithole (
2014, p. viii), this violence is not visible, but is hidden, and those who are affected by it seem to be incapacitated and unable to see, name, describe, or explain it. The violence is institutionalised, naturalised, and normalised in everyday existence. Therefore,
Ndlovu-Gatsheni (
2013a) warns Africans by saying, “What Africans must be vigilant against is the trap of ending up normalizing and universalizing coloniality as a natural state of the world. It must be unmasked, resisted and destroyed because it produced a world order that can only be sustained through a combination of violence, deceit, hypocrisy and lies.”
In light of this tension between local prophets, citizens, and politicians, on the one hand, and foreign prophets, on the other, there is need for religious leaders who support social justice to be harbingers of peace and, to achieve peace, their narratives and praxis should entail and foster the feasibility of coexistence and peaceful resolution of differences. To achieve this goal, the article, that a rereading, in a decoloniality sense, of the story of David and Jonathan in the context of conflict can serve as terrain that can be pursued to mitigate trajectories and ambivalence between and among local and foreign prophets in South Africa, could contribute to the construction of sustainable peace. While the task may appear difficult, especially in the context of conflict, it is doable, desirable, and inevitable.
Sithole (
2014) is of the view that there is a need to keep on thinking, even to the point of exhaustion, to avoid coloniality of mind, conflict and dehumanisation of anyone in society.
The following section discusses the theory underpinning this article, which is decoloniality.
3. Theoretical Framework: Decoloniality
The article is couched in decoloniality theory. The theory has roots in Latin America with leading scholars like Walter Mignolo, Maldonado-Torres, Quijon, Dussel (
Wanderley and Barros 2018) and championed by Sabelo Gatsheni Ndlovu in South Africa. It was “born out of a realisation that ours is an asymmetrical world order that is sustained not only by colonial matrices of power but also by pedagogies and epistemologies of equilibrium that continue to produce alienated Africans” (
Ndlovu-Gatsheni 2013b, p. 11), who, in turn, hate, colonise, and oppress other Africans. In its broader perspective, the theory represents a commitment to challenging and reformulating the communicational scientific discourse, from a criticism of the mediating power of the Eurocentric hegemonic thinking, to a native cultural paradigm (
Huerfano et al. 2016, p. 78). It does so through a deliberate attempt to break with monologic modernity, and issuing an invitation to engage in dialogue (
Maldonado-Torres 2011, p. 261). It is, furthermore, a theory that rejects modernity, which is located on the oppressed and exploited side of the colonial difference, in favour of a decolonial liberation struggle to achieve a world beyond Eurocentric
1 modernity (
Grosfoguel 2011, p. 21), dehumanisation, and all acts that seek to reduce people’s ontological density. The theory questions the legitimacy and sanity of celebrating postcolonial thinking, while the majority of Africans remain mentally colonised (
Kaunda 2015, p. 77). The theory was chosen to inform the thinking of this article since one of the theory’s primary mandates is to work towards a vision of human life that is not dependent upon or structured by the forced imposition of one ideal of society on those that differ in ideas (
Mignolo 2007). The theory is appropriate in the South African contexts since it engages in a struggle against the Eurocentric design strategy [to colonise African continent], which is visible in religion informed by binarism and hierarchisation, and which keeps power imbalances and the colonial legacy intact (
Sithole 2014).
It may be interesting to the reader that, in this article, decoloniality is not used to promote a struggle to decentre the Global North against Global South, as much of decoloniality research does. This article focuses on the Global South versus Global South actors, who, by default or by design, have replaced Global North colonial masters, and have occupied the big brother mentality of determining what is right and wrong, while at the same time ignoring justice and equity within the prophetic space. To this end, the article agrees with
Ndlovu-Gatsheni (
2013b, p. 11), who centers around the perspective that the struggle of decoloniality is a “melee against invisible vampirism of imperialism technologies and colonial matrices of power (coloniality) that continue to exist in the minds, lives, languages, dreams, imaginations, and epistemologies of modern subjects in Africa and the entire global South.”
As indicated above, the article will consider the three motifs of decoloniality, namely, coloniality of power, knowledge, and critique. The article defines coloniality. Coloniality refers to long-standing patterns of power that emerged as a result of colonialism, but that define culture, labour, intersubjective relations, and knowledge production well beyond the strict limits of colonial administrations. Thus, coloniality survives colonialism (
Maldonado-Torres 2011). Coloniality is a name for the ‘darker side’ of modernity, which needs to be unmasked because it exists as “an embedded logic that enforces control, domination, and exploitation” (
Mignolo 1995). Coloniality of power is a useful concept that delves deep into the roots of the present asymmetrical global power relations, and the way the present modern world order was constituted. It boldly enables a correct naming of the current ‘global political present,’ as a racially hierarchised, Eurocentric, Christian-centric, patriarchal, sexist, capitalist, heteronormative, hegemonic, and modern power structure (
Ndlovu-Gatsheni 2013b). Coloniality of power describes modern global power as a network of relations of exploitation, domination, and control of labour, nature and its productive resources, gender and its reproductive species, subjectivity and its material and intersubjective products, and knowledge and authority (
Quiano 2007). The coloniality of knowledge poses epistemological questions that are linked to: (a) the politics of knowledge generation; (b) questions of who generates which knowledge and for what purpose; (c) the question of relevance and irrelevance of knowledge; and, (d) how some knowledges disempower/empower communities and peoples (
Ake 1982;
Ndlovu-Gatsheni 2013a). The article refers to coloniality of knowledge in this article mainly because prophetic movements appear to tussle and compete on issues relating to who has better and more attractive religious knowledge, in order to gain popularity. Coloniality of being is defined by
Maldonado-Torres (
2011) as the combination of coloniality of power and coloniality of knowledge. Furthermore, coloniality of being is that of racial invention, where the notion of race and nationality is used as the organising principle through combining power and knowledge (
Sithole 2014). To this end, there exists the notion that people who are not citizens of a certain country do not belong to its zone of being; thus, they should be subjected to dehumanisation, xenophobia, and other acts that reduce their ontological density. This mentality must be challenged. In essence, the article combines these three motifs, which are pertinent and relevant to the South African context marred with coloniality manifested in many ways, in which one of them is religion.
4. Factors that Influence Prophetic Conflict in South Africa
In this section, the article responds to the first question, namely, what are the factors propelling prophetic conflict in South Africa? Responding to this question will expose the readers to the challenge of prophetic conflict in South Africa. In doing so, the article intends to show the need for a Jonathanic theology, which is explained in greater depth when in response to the second question. Various factors are discussed, the first one being popularism.
Prophetic movements in South Africa have been marred by competition, which, in some cases, has gone beyond control, and has led to conflict. Religious adherents or believers move from one prophetic movement to the next, following popular prophets. Arguably, prophetic movements are the fastest growing religious movements in South Africa. While precise statistics are lacking, scholars agree that prosperity gospel followers rival, if not exceed, the numbers of followers of mainstream religions (
Van Wyk 2019). This claim implies that some churches or religious groups continue to lose members to big and popular prophetic organisations. Followers of prophetic movements are not captive victims of so-called cult leaders. In fact, they move constantly between churches in search of more efficacious “technologies” and “stronger prophets” (
Van Wyk 2019).
Magezi and Banda (
2017) believe that the popularism sought by some contemporary prophets is a sign of them actually competing with Christ—they often project themselves as uniquely anointed by God. There is a silent force among prophets in South Africa, who are on a quest of gaining power through teaching, prophecies, and other actions. Some have required adherents eat snakes, drink diesel, be sprayed with Doom—all to gain power, which, in turn, translates into popularism. The desire for power has forced some prophets to resort to unconventional practices. In some cases, the prophets become, as suggested by
Henze (
1996, p. 1), legalistic and mind controlling, and they exhibit authoritarian tendencies. Cognisant of these practices, the media, politicians, prophets, and the general populace that were attracted became involved in conflict between those who practice and support what others believe to be malpractices, and those who believe that their mandate is to be harbingers of truth and the pure gospel.
Most foreign prophets have been accused of using faith to extort money from people (
CRL Rights Commission 2017). In fact, during hearings of the Commission, some pastors or prophets demonstrated their resistance to the Commission by refusing to take the prescribed oath, refusing to submit the required financial documents and bank statements, and causing dramatic scenes (
CRL Rights Commission 2017, p. 17). Some prophets were accused of money laundering, such as Shephard Bushiri (
Lindeque 2019;
TimesLIVE 2019;
Evans 2019), and Pastor Alph Lukau (
Montsho 2019;
Matangira 2019)—both foreign nationals who operate churches in South Africa. However, according to the CRL Commission report, there are many local religious groups in South Africa who are also deemed to be “profiteering from religion,” especially through their refusal to submit their financial records to the CRL commission; these include Pastor Mboro and Prophet Hadebe (
CRL Rights Commission 2017). In commenting on prophet Hadebe,
Collinson (
2017) reports that Hadebe refused to appear before the Commission and ignored its request to view his church’s financial statements.
Shepherd Bushiri, a well-known leader who had been accused of prophetpreneurship, is a Malawian who was arrested in 2018 on allegations of fraud and money laundering, among other crimes. Bushiri, in response to allegations of commercialising religion, said, “I am a businessman and that is separate from being a prophet. My prosperity is from private businesses. Such questions are not asked from leaders of white churches but when an African man prospers, then it’s a problem” (
Fihlani 2018).
While the article does not seek to either exonerate or condemn Bushiri, the article submits that, in South Africa, there is the idea that, when one race or nationality does something, like extort believers, it is wrong, and when it is done by another race or nationality, it becomes right. The point, which relates to the source of conflict, is that prophetic movements in South Africa, whether local or foreign, are characterised by commercialisation of religion; however, the outcry becomes louder when the movement involved has foreign origins.
The article has attempted to show that both local and foreign prophets (not only those mentioned) have been accused of profiteering, which, if it is proven to be true, means that prophetic movements must re-examine their relevance in the context of promoting social justice and social transformation. With reference to decoloniality, commercialisation of the gospel is accompanied by power, and this power makes the holder great. I, thus, problematise the commercialisation of the gospel, especially when it is used to subject the poor to even worse poverty, and to dehumanise people through criminal acts that extort money from them. Societies cannot prosper in the context of exploitation, especially by religious leaders, who are supposed to be the moral agents of change. So, in decoloniality, exploitation, whether by local or foreign prophets, must be challenged, and religious misconduct and delinquency must be prosecuted and judged—not based on race, nationality or colour—as these acts remove some people from the zone of being.
In an attempt to gain popularity, prophets have resorted to performing miracles; however, some of these miracles are questionable. One ‘miracle’ that became problematic was performed by Pastor Alph Lukau, and resulted in an intensification of the call for foreign prophets to return to their own countries and perform miracles for their own people (
Matangira 2019;
Montsho 2019). A local prophet who seemed agitated by this miracle was Prophet Paseka ‘Mboro’ Motsoeneng, founder of Incredible Happenings Ministries. In responding to Lukau’s so-called miracle,
Jordaan (
2019) cites Mboro saying, “They say I am jealous. What jealous. I gave away cars‚ houses. There is no competition here. I’m here because the name of Christ has been played with. This miracle is a fraud and if it’s not‚ they must bring proof. Let’s talk about it as men of God. That man never died. God will heal people when he wants‚ in any way he wants. Let’s not fake things.”
In addition, Lukau’s miracle attracted the attention of Bishop Elly Mogodiri of St. Oaks Global Church of Christ, who is cited by
Njilo (
2019) as commenting that, “I am aware and have been duly advised that this case falls within the ambit of organised crime‚ fraud and misrepresentation‚ among other misdemeanours. As a result‚ I have since approached my local police station‚ being Hartbeespoort SAPS in the North West province‚ and opened an organised crime case.”
It is clear from this discussion that ‘fake miracles’ are one of the ways in which prophets gain popularity, and also a source of conflict among the prophetic movements. From a decoloniality lens, this phenomenon refers to coloniality of power, which transfers the prophets who are deemed powerful to the zone of special being, while those prophets who cannot perform such miracles are moved from the zone of being. Decoloniality evokes the need to challenge acts and narratives that enhance people’s ontological density at the expense of made-up miracles.
Criminality or mafia-based tendencies that are hidden in religious narratives are one of the common issues that haunt the prophetic movement in South Africa, and serve as a cause of conflict.
Kgatle (
2017) describes criminal or mafia groups as “churches [that] are known for their refusal to affiliate with established denominations in South Africa. Some of these churches also refuse to be part of the South African Council of Churches (SACC).” In most cases, these mafia churches strive, as suggested by
Damiani (
2002, p. 45), by “destroying any individual personality and replace the void with a cultic personality that no longer questions, thinks critically, or feels the impact of an abusive system.” In most cases, this type of criminality is not visible, but is hidden from religious adherents. It causes those who are subjected to it to become incapacitated, and to see, name, describe, and explain it as it is institutionalised, naturalised, and normalised (
Sithole 2014). The article agrees with the observation by
Magezi and Banda (
2017), that, under normal circumstances, prophets are conduits through which God’s authority is extended to the believer. Sadly, this creates opportunities for prophets to abuse their followers, because the leaders are feared and considered as beyond questioning (
Magezi and Banda 2017).
The list of criminality and mafia tendencies exhibited by both local and foreign prophets is long. For example, Timothy Omotoso is known for rape scandals, money laundering, and human trafficking (
Dube et al. 2017); the Seven Angels Ministry for constitutional delinquency, abuse of resources and preventing children from attending school (
Dube 2019). In some cases, congregants have to ingest or are sprayed with dangerous poisons, ostensibly as part of a healing process (
Jamaica Observer 2016). As long as religious leaders are guilty of such practices, religions will continue to remain a problematic institution in society, and, even worse, create competition which accelerates to conflict. Thus,
Kaunda (
2015, p. 75) warns that, “as long as African mind remains one of the spaces for oppressive religious structures there seems to be no possibility of academy and knowledge decolonization and consequently, no social transformation, no political progress and no economic development.”
In light of these factors, evil or otherwise, the article submits that religious leaders should remain agents for peace, social justice, and accountability, through peaceful resolution of difference, and dialogue as a benchmark that society can follow. The continued conflict, the article submits, is a “darker side” of modernity that needs to be unmasked (
Mignolo 2000), because it exists as an embedded logic that enforces control, domination, and exploitation disguised in the language of salvation, progress, and modernisation (
Ndlovu-Gatsheni 2013b, p. 13), and protection of citizens from foreign prophets. Cognisant of this, the article suggested the tenets of Jonathanic theology for framing a space for peaceful resolution of the conflict between local and foreign prophets.