By Janet Moore Hujon
“Calling The Church Out” – Finally someone has had the courage and the conviction to express what I hope is the opinion of many in Meghalaya. Albert Thyrniang’s passionate and clearly argued charge against the Church is long overdue. Furthermore the subsequent responses to his evaluation echoing the simmering discontent in our State also offer some comfort in the gloom. If Meghalaya continues to call herself a Christian State then the Church is not doing Christianity any favours by not speaking out against the corruption that is rotting our beloved hills.
For decades governments have begged and been allocated funds for ‘development’, but apart from the wealth of those in power, there is virtually little to show for it. The only exponential growth we have experienced is that of a sense of betrayal accompanied by incredulity that the status quo persists. We have been consistently betrayed by successive governments and yet, the other ‘centre of power’, is doing nothing to wield the moral power it possesses in order to reassure the populace that truth and justice should be reinstated.
In the moral crisis we are in as citizens, if we can’t trust the Church to show us what is right then who can we trust? Like all religious/spiritual organizations the Church is meant to offer guidance but if in this respect the church is found wanting then believers are left struggling with the huge gap between theory and practice, between preaching and practising. Gospel teachings if not seen in action,might as well just be mere words on the page.
This silence on the part of the Church is alarming as it invariably leads you to speculate on her unholy alliance with wealthy politicians, as has been alleged with regard to the missing funds from Mawkhar Church. Will this theft be shamelessly swept behind the protection of the pulpit? And is indulging in cover-ups now a function of the pulpit? Church and State merging in this way is a matter of grave concern for it means Meghalaya will continue to have a government benefitting the few. The irony in all this, however, is that while such a theft is overlooked, the street pastor Reverend Kyrsoibor Pyrtuh who tirelessly works for the marginalised, ‘the least of [Christ’s] brethren’, is suspended from the same church for being too political in calling out the uncaring powerful amongst us. So don’t you think it is politicking that we should be more worried about because this clearly explains the rise in wealth amongst a few who for years have shamelessly diverted into their own bank accounts money intended for welfare projects. It is therefore imperative that the Church exercises its leadership role for if the Shepherd goes astray there too will the sheep follow.
As Thyrniang correctly points out ‘…No one is independent of politics…and the church, if it is faithful to its mission, has to be vocal’… Otherwise with self-interest and nepotism driving government policies and appointments, the idea of a common good will forever remain an illusion. ‘Tip Blei, Tip Briew, (Know God, Know One Another) we are told as Khasis and this simple lesson expressed so succinctly contains a weight of meaning and responsibility. To know (Tip) is to delve deep beneath superficial knowledge. It is to be aware and to be aware is to step away from the comfort of the complacent self in order to recognise one’s place in a community of beings. It is related to ‘jingiatiplem’ the Khasi word for conscience which when translated means to be mutually aware, to know how our actions are mutually impactful, that no man or woman is an island.
Tragically in Meghalaya today there is little of this kind of awareness at least not in public life – all we are left with is a show of power defined by trappings of wealth unimaginable to the ordinary citizen. This has led me to ponder on the nature of this kind of power. What does it tell us, and why are we constantly driven to remind others that we possess it? Is it so the rest of us don’t forget who is in charge? Surely authentic authority and efficiency do not need to be trumpeted for the benefits will inevitably be seen in the improved quality of life for everyone. One therefore cannot but suspect that all this tamasha hides the real truth that actually there is nothing of substance at the heart of Meghalaya. Meghalaya’s many emperors are really strutting around naked.
Yet ostentation has become so normal that this is what we have come to associate with high office and we no longer expect ministers or their cronies to fulfil their oaths of office, and that in its turn is dangerous for it shows how resigned we as citizens have become and how we are losing sight of the urgent need to demand what is good. Understandably when life is so bleak we can be forgiven for enjoying all this tamasha like the various festivals periodically on offer, forgetting that they are but condescending gestures to keep the populace happy who, in the general bonhomie, then delude themselves that all is well when really all is well only for the self-serving ‘elite’.
Sadly this way of wielding power self-perpetuates and has now become what people emulate because after years of being crushed, cornered and helpless, they finally tell themselves that this is the only way to gain control of their lives. Given the opportunity they then shamelessly exploit and rob the helpless amongst them, doing unto others what has been done to them. Common land becomes private property and the state’s natural resources become a personal source of income as if environmental damage and climate change are fairy tales invented by the west. And if such schemes are not on offer we then cosy up to ministers and bureaucrats – even those with dubious reputations – believing that some of their power will rub off on us. And woe betide anyone who does not want to be part of this network of sycophancy – they are looked down upon as rank outsiders for foolishly not subscribing to that popular club promising ease and instant gratification.
As a young local poet concludes:
I am no longer welcomed at the table of the powerful…
I courted ruin by refusing the pillow of their indulgence…
And when I told them that this was my Way
The way of Thorns not Thrones, the long way…
The way of Pain, the way of Poverty,
The way of Passion, the way of Freedom
They shuddered and looking past me
Fingered their food and washed it down with beer
Nearly fifty years ago we won freedom from Assam rule dreaming of a future where our distinct identity as a hill people would blossom. Yet today dictated and enslaved as we are by greed I wonder if we have really gained freedom. We have abandoned all sense of community, jealously guarding status, we have disregarded ancient lessons of sustainability by pillaging waterways and forests and we have ceased to challenge the oppressors amongst our own people accommodating them instead within our world-view as thorns in our flesh to be endured. Are we really free? Or are we in another prison – one we have built by ourselves…brick by ominous brick?
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