Wetang'ula urges church to maintain impartiality in political criticism

When you start behaving like a political force, you lose the moral high ground
Wetang'ula argues that selective criticism undermines the church's authority as an impartial voice on social issues.

In the space between prophetic witness and partisan allegiance, Kenya's National Assembly Speaker Moses Wetang'ula has raised an ancient question: when a moral institution enters the arena of power, does it illuminate the arena or become shaped by it? Speaking during a farewell meeting with the outgoing papal envoy in late May, Wetang'ula urged the Catholic Church to apply its scrutiny evenly across administrations, warning that selective criticism transforms a shepherd's staff into a political weapon. The tension he named is not unique to Kenya — it is the perennial struggle of conscience institutions to remain above the contests they are called to judge.

  • Wetang'ula's grievance has been building quietly in political circles, and a diplomatic farewell became the unlikely stage for a pointed public reckoning.
  • The Catholic Church's 2024 decision to return Sh2.8 million in government donations — framed as principled independence — was read by the Speaker as a calculated public rebuke of President Ruto.
  • The core accusation is asymmetry: the church's silence during Kenyatta's tenure versus its open hostility toward Ruto suggests political preference masquerading as moral principle.
  • Wetang'ula is not calling for silence — he insists the church must speak on justice, accountability, and peace — but demands that the same standard be applied to every administration without exception.
  • The debate now sits unresolved at the intersection of institutional credibility and democratic governance, with Kenya's religious and political leaderships each watching the other for signs of overreach.

On a Tuesday morning in late May, National Assembly Speaker Moses Wetang'ula met with Archbishop van Megen, the outgoing papal envoy to Kenya, for what was meant to be a cordial farewell. Wetang'ula used the occasion to voice a concern that had been gathering weight in political circles: the church, he argued, was crossing from moral witness into partisan territory.

His position was carefully drawn. Religious institutions have every right to speak on social justice, accountability, and peace — but there is a difference between prophetic counsel and political activism. "When you start behaving like an alternative political force, you lose the moral high ground," he said. The distinction, in his view, determines whether the church speaks with authority or merely as another faction competing for influence.

The specific grievance was one of consistency. Wetang'ula pointed to what he saw as the church's silence during President Kenyatta's tenure contrasted with open hostility toward President Ruto's government. The Catholic Archdiocese of Nairobi had returned Sh2.6 million donated by Ruto and Sh200,000 from Nairobi Governor Sakaja in 2024, citing a bishops' directive against political donations. The gesture was intended as a declaration of independence; Wetang'ula received it as a public rebuke.

Yet his critique reached inward as well. He called on church leaders to apply to themselves the same scrutiny they directed at government, and raised concerns about Catholic-run schools and health facilities drifting from their founding social mission.

The meeting honored van Megen's seven years as Apostolic Nuncio — a tenure marked by the appointment of 26 new bishops and sustained work on peace and reconciliation. But beneath the courtesies lay a deeper question that neither ceremony nor diplomacy could fully contain: can a moral institution engage with political power without being consumed by it? Wetang'ula's answer was not silence, but fairness — and the reminder that without it, the church becomes merely another player in the very game it was meant to transcend.

On a Tuesday morning in late May, National Assembly Speaker Moses Wetang'ula sat down with Archbishop Hubertus Matheus Maria van Megen, the outgoing papal envoy to Kenya, for what was meant to be a cordial farewell. Instead, Wetang'ula used the occasion to air a grievance that has been building in political circles: the church, he argued, was abandoning its role as an impartial moral arbiter and sliding into partisan politics.

Wetang'ula's complaint was specific and pointed. He acknowledged that religious institutions have every right to speak on matters of conscience—social justice, accountability, transparency, peace. But there is a line, he suggested, between prophetic witness and political activism. "Nobody will gag the church from being critical, but you must be fair," he said. "When you start behaving like an alternative political force, you lose the moral high ground as an impartial commentator, advisor and arbitrary counsellor." The distinction matters because it determines whether the church speaks with authority or merely as another faction jockeying for power.

The speaker's real target was the Catholic Church's treatment of successive administrations. He pointed to what he saw as a stark asymmetry: the church had remained largely silent during President Uhuru Kenyatta's tenure, yet had become openly hostile toward President William Ruto's government. Wetang'ula framed this not as principled consistency but as selective criticism driven by unstated political preferences. "The Catholic Church was completely silent on Uhuru Kenyatta. President William Ruto is literally breaking his back, moving all over the country to move it forward, but the church doesn't see anything good in him," he said. "It has exhibited open hostility. It is not right for the Bishop to be openly known to have a position."

The financial record seemed to back up his point. In 2024, the Catholic Archdiocese of Nairobi had returned Sh2.6 million donated by President Ruto and Sh200,000 contributed by Nairobi Governor Johnson Sakaja at a church in Soweto. Archbishop Philip Anyolo had also declined an additional Sh3 million pledge and a promised church bus, citing a directive from the Kenya Conference of Catholic Bishops that banned political donations to preserve institutional independence. The gesture was meant to signal moral purity, but Wetang'ula read it differently: as a public rebuke dressed in principle.

Yet Wetang'ula's critique extended beyond the Ruto administration. He called on church leaders to apply the same scrutiny to themselves that they applied to government. "You can speak on transparency and responsibility; however, even as you criticise others, look within yourself," he told his bishops. He also raised concerns about what he saw as a gradual drift in Catholic-run schools and health facilities, institutions that had once embodied the church's social mission but were, in his view, losing their way.

The meeting itself was framed as a courtesy—a chance to honor van Megen's seven years as Apostolic Nuncio, during which he had overseen the appointment of 26 new bishops. Wetang'ula praised the archbishop's work promoting peace, reconciliation, and human dignity. Van Megen was departing for a new diplomatic post in Germany, and the speaker wished him well. But the substance of their conversation revealed a deeper tension: how should religious institutions engage with political power in a democracy? Should they maintain distance to preserve moral authority, or does such distance amount to complicity? Wetang'ula's answer was clear—the church must speak, but it must speak fairly, consistently, and with an eye toward its own conduct. Without that balance, he suggested, it becomes just another player in the game, and the game consumes it.

When you start behaving like an alternative political force, you lose the moral high ground as an impartial commentator, advisor and arbitrary counsellor
— Moses Wetang'ula, National Assembly Speaker
The Catholic Church was completely silent on Uhuru Kenyatta. President William Ruto is literally breaking his back, moving all over the country to move it forward, but the church doesn't see anything good in him
— Moses Wetang'ula
The Hearth Conversation Another angle on the story
Inventor

When Wetang'ula says the church loses moral authority by acting like a political force, what does he actually mean by that distinction?

Model

He's drawing a line between speaking truth to power and becoming a faction within power. A church that criticizes injustice wherever it appears—regardless of who's in office—speaks with weight. A church that criticizes one president harshly while staying silent on another looks like it's picking sides. Once people see you as partisan, your words on justice stop sounding like principle and start sounding like preference.

Inventor

But isn't it possible the church genuinely sees different things in different administrations? That Ruto's government actually warrants more criticism?

Model

Possibly. But Wetang'ula's point is that the church hasn't made that case publicly. It's just returned money and issued directives. If the criticism is justified, say so openly and explain why. The silence on Kenyatta followed by hostility toward Ruto looks like inconsistency, not discernment. That's what erodes trust.

Inventor

The church returned millions in donations. Isn't that a form of speaking—a statement about independence?

Model

It is, but it's a statement that only works if it's applied consistently. If you reject money from one president but accepted it from another, you're not protecting independence—you're signaling which side you're on. The gesture becomes the opposite of what it claims to be.

Inventor

What about Wetang'ula's point that the church should look at itself? Is that fair criticism or deflection?

Model

It's fair. He's saying if you're going to hold government accountable for drifting from its mission, you have to do the same for yourself. Catholic schools and hospitals were supposed to serve the poor and vulnerable. If they're becoming just like any other institution, that's worth naming. It's not deflection—it's consistency applied all the way around.

Inventor

So what does the church actually need to do here?

Model

Be clear about its principles and apply them evenly. Speak on justice, yes. But make sure you're speaking on the same issues regardless of who's in power. And be transparent about why you're taking the positions you take. Right now, the perception is that the church is playing politics while claiming moral authority. That perception is the real problem.

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