Christian Churches in Dahomey-Benin: A Study of Their Socio-Political Role (review)

Patrick Claffey states clearly in his concluding remarks that he is not “an Afro-pessimist” (270). His study of the public role of Benin’s Christian churches, however, is skeptical of any so-called African kairo and only cautiously optimistic about the sociopolitical value of Benin’s growing religious market. While Claffey regards Benin’s churches as a political statement of sorts, he does not see their role primarily as creators of social capital or instigators of social or political change. Above all else, Christianity is, he argues, a refuge from the insecurity and disorder of a weak state; it is an attempt to imagine a new and reordered world.

The book is divided into two parts. The first deals with history: the politics and religion of the traditional kingdom of Danxome (distinguished in the text from Dahomey, the colonial construct), and the role of the early missionary encounter in the kingdom’s demise. The second section looks at the role of Christian churches in the making of the modern state. The breadth of the work is impressive, and clearly Claffey is as comfortable in the depths of the archives as he is picking up the word on the streets of Cotonou. The historical chapters contain a wealth of rich and detailed material on the politics of Danxome and the essential role of Vodun in the making of the traditional kingdom. His central thesis is the “anthropological fragility” of Beninois society. Haunted by its troubled past—the brutality of the precolonial kingdom and its willing complicity in the transatlantic slave trade—and by the enduring presence of the power of Vodun, Benin struggles to imagine itself as a modern nation-state. This complex relationship with its own history, argues Claffey, is Benin’s “biggest challenge” (127).

In the second section the book focuses on the role of the Christian churches in helping the Beninois understand, and to come to terms with, this history. Across a wide spectrum of Christianity—encompassing Catholicism, Methodism, the African instituted churches, and the new charismatic sector—Claffey considers how Benin’s churches confront the challenges of a modern state and society. From the colonial period to the present day the Catholic Church has played a central role in how the state imagines itself, not least during its leadership of the National Conference and the transition to democracy in the early 1990s. While Claffey welcomes this period as a genuine “new beginning” (220), he is less enthusiastic about the contribution of Catholic social teaching to the everyday politics of Benin. These ideas, he argues, are a doctrine of the elite, a kind of “theological extraversion” (213) far removed from the lives of ordinary Beninois.

In his final chapter Claffey examines the phenomenal growth of what he calls a Christianisme béninois, a popular Christianity that spans the denominational spectrum and to which ordinary Beninois flock to take refuge from the fragility and insecurity of daily life. Even though, on one level, he views these new Christianities as “quasi-communities” (225) from which ordinary people might imagine a new society, he is doubtful, in the end, that this explosion of religiosity will lead to any genuine social change. With its overwhelming emphasis on the miraculous but almost total absence of any defined social agenda, popular Christianity may provide “enough hope to get by” (248), but little more.

This book is a bold and successful attempt to disentangle the threads of religion and politics in a complex society. It is an important reminder that religion never floats free from its social context, and that local histories often reveal more about the public role of Christian churches in Africa than grand theories do. As well as being an excellent academic text, it is also an engaging and quietly self-reflective work. The author...