I believe in absolute truth.
I’m going to try to do this without a detailed exposition of my relationship with faith and politics throughout my childhood.
By the time I arrived at university I was quite certain that I was an atheist and my political home was on the left. Beyond reading foundational writings and studying academic debates on postmodernism, Marxism and related schools of thought, I’d personally bought and read ‘The God Delusion’ and ‘The Coming Revolution’ before I left high school. I was invested. I was convinced that I had evaluated the ideas available in the political philosophy marketplace and I had made my purchase. I was a ‘disillusioned’ teenager in a working class, Christian home, and I was won over by socialism and relativism.
Frankly, the left is seductive. The university space I entered was still writhing palpably from the #RhodesMustFall and #FeesMustFall movements of the previous years. The environment was lush with leftist philosophy and my eager mind was reeling with excitement. I was captivated by the world of ideas which seemed to have opened up around me almost overnight.
In the momentous wave of leftist rhetoric, I began to learn the terminology of critical theory, became familiar with Marxist-Leninism, and did so among a community of likeminded, zealous, young people with stories affirmingly similar to my own. It was as if I was finally discovering the truth about the world – pulling back the curtains of society and and finally seeing the ugly cogs of its machinery. I was learning the words and ideas which described and affirmed my econo-sociopolitical experience. I could finally articulate my disaffection with the way things were. I felt empowered.
Soon, critical race theory was the lens through which I saw the world. All my experiences (past, present, and especially future) were neatly explained by the notions of hegemonic power structures, systemic racism, and intersectionality. I was on the radical left; never missing an opportunity to expose ‘the establishment’, disrupt ‘white, heteronormative spaces’, and challenge the idea of objective truth in favour of relative truth and the paramountcy of individual experience.
It was not until years later that I came to see this attitude as defeatist – expecting and sometimes resigning myself to defeat against the pervasive and monolithic ideas of the establishment. I was painfully conscious of what I perceived as the facts of life which threatened my socioeconomic mobility – my ability to live my conception of the good and fulfilling life.
After years of commitment to ‘fighting the system’, I was exhausted. In hindsight, this was inevitable. I had allowed the postmodern worldview to consume me. I found myself feeling increasingly combative, unfulfilled, and searching for meaning to no avail. Though, importantly, I felt entitled to the pain of my past experiences and my anger with the way things were. I wanted growth and hope but would not relinquish my right to hostility in order to make room for it. I was tired and hopeless.
Then, enter the ancient of days. I will reserve the story of mine and God’s courtship for a later piece. For now, I will describe it as an enduring lesson in humility, healing, and humanity. Crucially, I was awakened to the reality of absolute truth. I did not come to believe that God exists, I came to know it to be true – the truth, not ‘my truth’. Immediately, I was forced to interrogate the ‘truths’ I had previously believed about myself, the world, and my place in it.
Obstinately, almost predictably, I contended with my newly changed heart and spirit to allow me to continue to hold radical political views. I attempted to reason that Christ’s teachings were radical, that his work (and indeed Christianity) was a social justice revolutionary effort. This is the deceptive, albeit attractive, line of reasoning argued by purported ‘progressive Christians’. It tries to lay claim to Christ while chasing the allure of radical leftist rhetoric in popular culture. However, I have since found that this view simply does not survive Biblical muster – a requirement I have adopted for all my beliefs.
The decision to trust the authority of scripture in the face of my obvious and inherent fallibility has been the bedrock of my current worldview. With time, I have had to yield to discovering the world anew in what has been an ongoing exercise of humility, healing and humanity. I have had to probe my prior convictions for concordance with the Bible and consequently, I found myself inching closer to the center of the spectrum of political ideology. This came as a mild shock to me given my obsessive devotion to the radical left. Every time I remember this striking change, I am reminded how small I really am and I am grateful for the grace to learn and grow in understanding.
This experience has revealed and continues to reveal a wealth of insight which I intend to explore and develop in my life’s work. I wake up each morning eager for the lessons that await me and excited to sharpen my discernment. But in the interest of keeping this entry brief, I submit my answer in the affirmative – Christianity has indeed made my views more conservative than they have been in the past. Though I am reluctant to assume a position because I hope to continue to evolve as I learn and mature, my views would probably be classed as moderate or liberal in many circles.
It is the details of ‘how’ or ‘why’ my views have changed which fascinate me most. Which views, if any, have survived the shift? How do I make sense of my experience as a vehement proponent of leftist ideology? Having been opposed to moderate-conservative views in the past, what do I understand now about society and governance that I previously did not? How would I respond now to my own previous critiques of centrist positions?
I’m interested in these questions not so much for the answers they may reveal, as for the further, more intriguing questions about political philosophy and human nature that they may uncover.
– Lele M
Lele Muthali 