African Spirituality and Western Atheism

This is an interesting video. It popped up on my feed weeks ago, but I didn’t watch it, largely because I’ve found western atheism vacuous beyond its ardent critique of dogmatism and fundamentalism. However, after a comrad shared it and offered some insightful remarks, I decided to watch it.


The speaker, Britt Hartley, addresses some things that I concluded over a decade ago after the heady days of the so-called “new atheism” of the mid to late 2000s and early 2010s, and my own participation in this discourse. While I considered (and consider) the critique of dogmatism, fundamentalist thinking, and the political economy of religion critically important, I came to fear that many atheists in this context had also hastened to discard many things which were vital and meaningful–such as the ethical insights, rites of passages, community celebrations, and ways of making and finding meaning in life which generally occur in the context of religions. What’s more, I found some (though not all) of the Black atheists whom I encountered to be hopelessly Eurocentric, and thus unable to engage in any meaningful reflection on the lingering value of African/African Diasporan spiritual practices to both our daily lives and our liberation struggle.


I came to realize that even the idea of “atheism” becomes somewhat complicated in relation to the various ways in which “divinity” itself is constructed within African and African-Diasporan cultures. That is, while disbelief in the God of the varied Abrahamic religions represents the rejection a type of ontological and political absolute wherein belief is the sole means of avoiding damnation, these same logics were and are largely absent within African/African Diasporan traditions wherein “divinity” entails an entire range of things from natural phenomena (i.e., rivers, storms, the Earth etc.), cultural ideals (i.e., truth, honor, harmony, etc.), as well as human will/consciousness. Herein, the very idea of atheism, being one who disbelieves in a god or gods became for me incompatible with non-Western notions of divinity, which entailed many aspects of divinity that I greatly appreciate–the character that I strove to exemplify, the natural environment that I and every other human being relies upon, and the human potential that I sought to embody. In this formula, the divine was not and is not ever external to the human being, but is a fundamental aspect of one’s nature.


Finally, I was reminded that within our traditions, spirituality is largely a matter of practice in contrast to belief. The practice of mdw nfr (good speech) or iwà pẹ̀lẹ́ (gentle or good character), respect for Asase Yaa/Ala (the earth), honoring my ancestors, or observing and celebrating the cycles of life (birth, puberty, adulthood, marriage, elderhood, ancestry, etc.) or nature did not necessarily require any belief in the supernatural, but did require an ability to apprehend and appreciate the sacred.


So, yes, I agree that Western atheism is a spiritual dead end, especially for people of African descent. I argue that our indigenous traditions offer a deep well of wisdom and insight. Further, I think that the various traditions that we have approached and effectively “Africanized” are also capable of yielding appreciable insights.

The Long Proud March of Ignorance

As you probably already know, I read. In fact I read a lot about many different subjects. I read not only because of my profession, but for my own growth and learning. Reading was a habit that I acquired when I was very young that I have sustained over the years. What’s more, I try to place myself in contact with people who will inspire me to read more due to the depth and breadth of their own knowledge. These tend to be my most enjoyable interlocutors.


I offer the foregoing as a preface to the video below, which I consider an insightful treatment of what for many of us is an urgent topic. I have long been concerned that too many people lack the requisite knowledge to grapple with the profoundly complex challenges that we face as a species. The penchant towards increasingly simplistic ways of knowing and understanding reality have contributed to rampant ignorance, susceptibility to conspiracy theories, and even a deep-seated anti-intellectualism.


Lastly, like the great Amadou Hampâté Bâ, I do consider orality as a form of literacy, and recognize its historical import as both a form of knowledge and a mode of social practice. I fear that much was lost in the decline of the great oral traditions of our ancestors. Thus, more than literacy’s decline itself, my fear is already being realized–the widespread celebration of ignorance and its elevation as a way of being in society and the world. This is captured quite beautifully in a Yorùbá proverb which states, “Ọgbọ́n ní ńpẹ́ kó tó ran ẹni; wèrè kì í gbèé ran èèyàn; wèrè Ìbàdàn ló ran ará Ògbómọ̀ṣọ́,” that is, “Only wisdom takes a long time to rub off on others; imbecility does not take long to affect others; it is the imbecility plaguing Ibadan people that rubbed off on the people of Ògbómọ̀ṣọ́.” We are, I have long suspected, living in a time where the ascendance of idiocy will increasingly imperil our lives.


The rise of the post-literate society | DW News https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-6t-BBQ8fUQ