Anti-Christian violence combines the limitations that non-Muslims face under Islamic law, as well as the unclaimed violence in central Nigeria.
Responses to Nigeria's designation as a country of particular concern for religious freedoms have emphasised a seemingly uniform distribution of violence. While general insecurity is a valid concern, a focus on only terrorist violence will miss the specific nature of religious violence. This includes the overt targeting of Christian-majority communities, and the structural effect of Islamic laws on non-Muslims. Importantly, religious groups face both overt and structural forms of violence, but Christians are not its only victims.
Nigeria has again been named a "country of particular concern" (CPC) for religious freedoms, after the US President, Donald Trump accused its government of allowing the killing of Christians. Ironically, the statements from Trump and the United States Commission on International Religious Freedom (USCIRF), have missed the core issues: instead of a genocide against Christians, Nigeria faces systemic violence against religious communities and suppression of the freedom of religion or belief (FORB). There are specific forms of violence against religious communities, including Christians, but the clues to these are not what Trump points to. While I dismiss the claims about a purported genocide, I wish to stress two points about anti-Christian violence in Nigeria.
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First, the anti-blasphemy laws in Northern Nigeria have been widely criticised. Although more Muslims are prosecuted under these laws than non-Muslims, Christians accused of blasphemy often face grimmer outcomes. But Sharia laws and governance practices challenge the secular nature of Nigeria and deepen concerns of anti-Christian violence. While many Christians live in Sharia-governed areas, Islamic laws limit their citizenship and freedoms. These limitations include the forced compliance with Ramadan fasting; ban on sale and consumption of alcohol; forced separation between males and females in public, including in public schools; state sponsorship of religious activities; and restricted access to land for non-Muslim religious groups. Sadly, over time, these restrictions have become invisible, even to Christian leaders. Johan Galtung's work on "structural violence" is relevant here: indirect violence embedded in social structures can, over time, inflict more harm than sporadic episodes of direct violence.
Second, violence in the so-called "farmer-herder conflict" disproportionately affects Christians. For instance, over 1,000 persons have been killed in Benue in the past two years in attacks often attributed to Muslim Fulani herders, but rarely substantiated. While these attacks may not be inherently anti-Christian, the demographics mean that most victims are Christians. But without thorough investigations, and with a perceived lack of empathy from officials, many of whom are Muslim, some Christian leaders are convinced that they are facing attempts at a genocide.
Anti-Christian violence combines the limitations that non-Muslims face under Islamic law, as well as the unclaimed violence in central Nigeria. But labelling all perpetrators as "terrorists" is inaccurate, as this points to the proscribed armed groups whom the Nigerian State and its allies have fought for over a decade. We need a better framing to also account for the inequities embedded in Nigerian laws and governance.
Two cases illustrate government inaction. In 2016, citizens led by a Catholic priest asked the regional ECOWAS Court of Justice to compel the Nigerian government to investigate massacres in Agatu, Benue State. The Nigerian government challenged the court's jurisdiction, rather than showing its investigation. Similarly, in May 2022, Deborah Samuel, a Christian student accused of blasphemy, was lynched by a mob in Sokoto. The police charged the suspects with "criminal conspiracy and inciting public disturbance," not murder. Nevertheless, the case was dismissed only seven months later due to lack of diligent prosecution by the police.
Such responses by the state give credence to Trump's accusation that the government is allowing the killing of Christians. However, this underwhelming state response extends to violence affecting all religious, ethnic, and political groups. Trump's statement alternately blames "Islamic terrorists" and "terrorist thugs" for the anti-Christian violence, but if he is referring to Boko Haram, then it is inaccurate to frame their violence as exclusively anti-Christian. Boko Haram has killed more Muslims than members of any other religion. Nevertheless, the group's anti-Christian stance and attacks should not be ignored. Consider the 2014 abduction of 276 schoolgirls (mostly Christians) in Chibok, and the government's failure to rescue Leah Sharibu, a Christian student, while it secured the release of all her Muslim classmates.
Anti-Christian violence combines the limitations that non-Muslims face under Islamic law, as well as the unclaimed violence in central Nigeria. But labelling all perpetrators as "terrorists" is inaccurate, as this points to the proscribed armed groups whom the Nigerian State and its allies have fought for over a decade. We need a better framing to also account for the inequities embedded in Nigerian laws and governance. For example, when Nigeria sent a recent delegation to the US, they framed their discussion on counterterrorism, not justice or governance. Recent news highlights new waves of violence in Nigeria, including a church attack caught on livestream. The perpetrators are not worried about designations and the threat of American military intervention. Public officials are denying the claim of genocide, but concerning steps to improve religious freedoms, there is silence.
The US is considering targeted sanctions against Nigerian officials complicit in suppressing religious freedoms. This would help. Partners can also assist security and judicial institutions to prioritise prosecutions of religious and identity-based violence. Diplomatic posts and trade missions can also help secure safety guarantees for businesses that are threatened, and compensation for disruptions.
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Strongly worded statements like Trump's may be necessary, but regional and international cooperation are even better. In international fora, Nigeria should be charged to uphold human rights and address violence, and it would help if other countries would demand for Nigeria to post its ambassadors. At the state level, partners can press for policy coherence on limiting Islamic law to Muslims, clearer boundaries for blasphemy laws, and greater action against mob violence. The US is considering targeted sanctions against Nigerian officials complicit in suppressing religious freedoms. This would help. Partners can also assist security and judicial institutions to prioritise prosecutions of religious and identity-based violence. Diplomatic posts and trade missions can also help secure safety guarantees for businesses that are threatened, and compensation for disruptions.
Responses to Nigeria's designation as a country of particular concern for religious freedoms have emphasised a seemingly uniform distribution of violence. While general insecurity is a valid concern, a focus on only terrorist violence will miss the specific nature of religious violence. This includes the overt targeting of Christian-majority communities, and the structural effect of Islamic laws on non-Muslims. Importantly, religious groups face both overt and structural forms of violence, but Christians are not its only victims.
Nengak Daniel Gondyi is a PhD Candidate in International Environment and Development Studies at the Norwegian University of Life Science (NMBU) in Ås, Norway.
