"Cirtuous Citizenship": Ethnicity and

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“Virtuous Citizenship”: Ethnicity and Encapsulation among AkanSpeaking Ghanaian Methodists in London
Mattia Fumanti
Paper for the Conference on African Transnational and Return Migration in the
Context of North-South Relations, University of Warwick, Coventry, United Kingdom,
29-30 June 2009
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Abstract:
This paper examines the ways first generation Ghanaian Methodists in London construct
citizenship in the context of highly encapsulated ethnic fellowships, characterised by the
exclusive usage of Akan, Ghanaian styles of worship and an ethos of mutual assistance.
Encapsulation seems irreconcilable with an idea of an active citizenship as grounded in
participation in the public sphere of the nation. Yet it is within these encapsulated fellowships
that first generation Ghanaian Methodists construct citizenship through the making of a
diasporic Ghanaian identity grounded in the ideas of hard-work, respect for the rule of law,
virtue and morality. Building on Aristotle’s concept of citizenship as an expression of virtue,
goodness and the preservation of harmony among citizens and the state, I call Ghanaian
Londoners, often ‘virtual’ in the sense of lacking legal residence, ‘virtuous citizenship’. The
paper also addresses issues of multiculturalism and tranansnational belonging through an
analysis of a current debate within the Methodist polity.
Keywords: Citizenship, Ethnicity, Methodism, Ghanaian diaspora, London, Multiculturalism
Introduction
The literature on the new African Diaspora in Britain and the US has tended to underline loss
of status, alienation and invisibility experienced by African migrants. Stoller (2002), for
example, citing Ellison’s Invisible man, describes the experience of a Songhay trader in New
York as the life of ‘an unseen person... who walked among the shadows’ (2002:6), while
Akyempong (2001) and Vasta and Kandilige (2007) argue that Ghanaians conceptualise
London as ‘the great leveller’. Arriving from Africa often with high-level professional
qualifications and education, Ghanaian migrants end up in menial jobs and experience a loss
of status: ‘the elites rubbing shoulders with the illiterates’ (Akyempong 2001: 196). JoAnn
McGregor describes the experience of shame associated with de-skilling among Zimbabwean
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professionals working in care homes for the elderly (McGregor 2007). In this context,
nostalgia for home, and the pain of disconnection take centre stage in powerful narratives of
displacement (D’Alisera 2004). This is also expressed in novels such as The children of the
revolution on Ethiopians in Washington D.C (Mengestu 2007). Such an emphasis on
alienation and loss of status, while capturing a deep-seated truth on the reality of racism and
daily discrimination encountered by many African migrants, can potentially, overlook the
complexity of the new African diaspora experience.
Alienation and invisibility may disguise active citizenship within a diaspora
community, invisible to outside bodies, although undoubtedly, incoming migrants do find
some aspects and values of the society they live in deeply unsettling (Stoller 2002, d’Alisera
2004). Against this alienation and invisibility, social involvement with their communities
opens up for migrants other avenues for recognition and distinction. Encapsulation in
political, religious and mutual aid associations has long been recognised as an essential aspect
of the process of settlement in a new country (Mayer 1971, Whyte 1943, Werbner 1990,
2002)1. As Sam Selvon’s (1956) classic novel, The Lonely Londoners, on post-war migration
from the Caribbean reminded us more than fifty years ago, hopes and dreams, places of
recognition and visibility, co-exist with alienation and invisibility.
This paper aims to build on this dualism in the literature by addressing the way in
which Ghanaians in Britain negotiate their sense of belonging and citizenship while
remaining double rooted, commited to both Britain and Ghana, and despite being in some
cases overstayers who are neither British citizens nor legally resident in Britain. In particular,
the paper reflects on the way that membership in the Methodist church in Britain and Ghana
mediates for Ghanaian Methodists a sense of citizenship, based on moral and ethical ideas of
virtuous performance.
1
For a discussion on the new African diaspora see Grillo and Mazzucato 2008, Krause 2008, Fumanti 2009,
Mazzucato 2008, Mohan 2006, McGregor 2008, Page, Mercer and Evans 2009.
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For first generation Ghanaian Methodist migrants in London the Methodist church
becomes a space for the construction of a unique ‘diasporic' citizenship, irrespective of the
formalities of passports and voting rights. This is because the church constitutes for migrants
a transnational polity, one that is both British and Ghanaian, a naturalised, taken-for-granted
continuum arising from the long history of Methodism as a British mission in Ghana (Bartels
1965). For Ghanaians in Britain, whether or not they are officially full British citizens outside
the church assumes secondary importance to their sense of entitlement as postcolonial
citizens returning to the home country. Critical is their status and role within the church itself.
Though in many cases lacking official papers, and frequently suffering discrimination and
loss of status at work, with many employed in manual labour despite their educational
qualifications, the Methodist church provides the space where Ghanaian migrants can
construct their sense of being both ‘British’ and worthy citizens. This stems from migrants’
recognition of the Methodist church as an essentially British institution which recognises
their loyalty and allegiance whatever their formal status. By working and achieving
recognition within the church, they see themselves as living virtuous and dignified lives in
British society more generally. The church is thus a space where their contribution to Britain
as good Christians within a Christian nation is morally acknowledged.
Ghanaian Methodists construct their subjecthood as virtuous performance. According
to this ideal, citizenship, the right to national belonging, is achieved by being law abiding,
hard working, and actively involved in Methodist fellowships through acts of caring, charity,
nurture, and human fellowship. Nevertheless, the space of the church is also the space in
which tensions inherent in the wider concept of citizenship between universalism and
particularism are played out. On the one hand, citizenship for Ghanaians is founded on
universal Christian values of love and care. They phrase this in terms of the Akan concept of
empathy, ɔtema. On the other hand, universal caring remains in tension with particular
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membership in Ghanaian ‘ethnic’ fellowships. These often exclude Caribbeans and other
African groups within and outside the church. Moreover, their highly moralistic ideal of
proper conduct promotes a sense of moral superiority in relation to the ‘English’, the host
society, and a negative judgement of their perceived immoral and sinful behaviour. Hence,
competition and opposition both within and beyond the ethnic group typifies membership in
Akan Methodist fellowships. Indeed, my paper discloses, the Akan tendency towards
encapsulation and ethnic particularism within the church has come to be regarded as highly
problematic by the church hierarchy, and has led to calls for an internal debate and reflection
on the role of ethnic minorities within the Methodist polity.
This marked tendency towards local and transnational encapsulation among Akan
speakers has implications for the wider debate on multiculturalism in Britain. In effect, their
ethnically exclusive fellowships lead to the creation of a bi-polar transnational social field
within the confined space of a single institution, the Methodist church, which itself is both
British and transnational. This feature of the church allows for the simultaneous negotiation
of different citizenships. On the one hand, being members of a transnational polity whose
roots and centre are in Britain makes Ghanaians in their own eyes naturally British citizens,
but it also permits them to create ethnic fellowships which transcend the boundaries of the
nation, while at the same time transforming the church into a multicultural polity.
For more recent Ghanaian migrant arrivals, living in London without residence visas
or work permits, the presence of Ghanaian Methodist fellowships signifies a British
recognition of the contribution made by Ghanaians to the UK as British citizens and helps
legitimise their presence in Britain in their own eyes since, despite their illegal status, they
are citizens within the British Methodist Church. For those who have been settled in the
country over a longer period of time and possess all the necessary legal documents, the
Ghanaian Methodist fellowships become a space to celebrate diversity, by maintaintaining
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their unique cultural link with their home country and remaining engaged in the project of
Ghanaian nation-building while living in the diaspora (Mercer, Page & Evans 2009). Both
these groups come together within the framework of the church.
Within multicultural Britain, the church constitutes an ideal space for intercultural
dialogue. As a British religious institution with a long history of engagement in social justice
and progressive themes, British Methodism has undergone considerable transformation in
recent years in order to accommodate a growing number of ethnic fellowships. The ensuing
debate created by the efflorescence of such ethnic fellowships mirrors wider debates on
citizenship and multiculturalism in Britain. As in Britain as a whole, themes of allegiance to
the British Methodist church, of active citizenship, of cohesion and integration, are central to
this internal debate in the church, especially as it relates to the more highly encapsulated
ethnic fellowships like the Ghanaian ones.
Addressing active citizenship in Britain: towards a Feminist and Aristotelian synthesis
These new challenges can be met only by government and people working together,
met only by an active citizenship, only by involving and engaging the British people
and forging a shared British national purpose that can unify us all... Here is the deal
for the next decade we must offer: no matter your class, colour or creed, the equal
opportunity to use your talents. In return we expect and demand responsibility: an
acceptance that there are common standards of citizenship and common rules. And
this is the British way: to say to all who live in our country there are common
standards and rules to be upheld. (Gordon Brown, Labour Party Conference 2007)
Over the last decade Britain has seen the affirmation and consolidation of a more
communitarian definition of citizenship. Based largely on the American republican model in
its late 20th century version (see for example Etzioni1993, Putnam 2000), the communitarian
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tradition places great emphasis on active citizenship and, as Gordon Brown underlined in his
speech, on shared rights, obligations and common standards for citizens. This is seen largely
as opposing an individualist, liberal tradition. It aims to promote the sense of collective duties
and social rights over individualism, technical expertise and the alienating tendencies of
market capitalism. As T.H. Marshall famously emphasised (1964), individual definitions of
citizenship, although potentially emancipating, cannot eradicate class and inequality. Instead,
he defined citizenship as ‘a status bestowed on those who are full members of a community’
(1964: 84). Although Marshall’s view was progressive, laying the philosophical foundations
for the welfare state, a number of feminist scholars have pointed out that the communitarian
stress on belonging and ‘actively joining with others to promote the common good in a
community’ (Assiter 1999, 44), is exclusionary in the sense that it tends ‘to homogenise
groupings’ and ‘to gloss over class, gender, racial and other power differentials between
groupings, in the interest of generating a common identity and a common value system’
(Assiter 1999: 45).
Against the homogenising vision of the communitarian tradition and the alienating
approach of the liberal tradition, feminist critics have suggested alternative constructions of
citizenship. Lister (1997), for example, proposes a feminist synthesis of the liberal and
communitarian traditions that would address citizenship’s exclusionary power and the publicprivate dichotomy (see also Prokhovnik 1994). Lister argues that contrary to the stress on
universalism, citizenship has long excluded women and other groups, such as ethnic
minorities and the disabled, ‘from the theory and practice of citizenship’ (Lister 1997, 38),
relegating women to the private sphere. As a corrective to this false universalism, Lister
proposes the notion of a ‘differentiated universalism’ - ‘a universalism which stands in
creative tension to diversity and difference and which challenges the divisions and
exclusionary inequalities which can stem from diversity’ (Lister 1997: 39). Writing about the
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disability movement, Judith Monks suggests that it advocates an ‘alternative form of
citizenship which provides for a flexible kind of participation’ based on intersubjectivity and
relationality (Monks 1999: 66). Assiter suggests that citizenship should ‘not take it for
granted that individuals are members of nation-states’ (1999: 41), while Stasiulis and Bakan
argue that citizenship ‘is negotiated and is therefore unstable, constructed and re-constructed
historically across as well as within geo-political borders’ (1994: 119; see also Werbner and
Yuval-Davis 1999). These theoretical alternatives to legalistic definitions of citizenship are
seminal, allowing for a novel conceptualisation that aims to take into account intersubjective
moral relations between citizens.
Assiter uses the notion of an epistemic community, drawing on Aristotle, to refer to ’a
group of individuals who share certain interests, values and beliefs in common... and who
work on the epistemic consequences of those presuppositions’ (Assiter 1999: 47). A key
aspect in Aristotle’s theory overlooked by Assiter, however, is his invocation of virtue, ἀρετή,
to describe the good citizen, καλὸς κἀγαθόs, as the ideal (Adkins 1963, Newell 1987, Develin
1973). For Aristotle, citizenship is negotiated through the intersubjective communication and
pragmatic responsiveness to circumstances (Aristotle 1950, Adkins 1963, Develin 1973). In
this latter respect, citizenship is always specific; limited to a particular community and
particular historical setting, and the right to be a participatory citizen is dictated by individual
status. For Aristotle the virtuous citizen, the ἀγαθός, remains an ideal, achievable only by
those able to combine the universal qualities of humanity proper, of the virtuous man, with
the particular qualities of being a citizen subject to the law of the πόλις. As he says in the
Politics, ’Now in general a citizen is one who both shares in the government and also in turn
submits to be governed’ (1950: 92). As Adkins (1963: 35) points out, the good man/citizen,
καλὸς κἀγαθόs, relied for his survival and well-being on a clearly defined and demarcated
community in which virtue, mutual assistance, cooperation and trust were debated and agreed
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upon. This was more so for those living in a foreign land (1963: 35). There, survival was
often reliant on the patronage of good men within the household or οἶκος. It was in this highly
encapsulated space that the individual made sense of his experience and was taken care of,
nurtured, protected and recognised.
If we extend this notion of οἶκος to the migrant community, we may argue that
encapsulation within the church provides the protective environment needed to survive in a
foreign land. In Aristotelian terms, a flexible, postcolonial diasporic citizenship is expressed
by the notion of virtuous citizenship within the British Methodist church. The church
provides a ‘nurturing’ space where Ghanaians organise themselves in encapsulated
fellowships, coming together to worship and celebrate their contribution to Britain and Ghana
through their efforts in the church. In the process they construct an ideal model of virtuous
citizenship, one that encompasses their experience as subjects and citizens in Britain and in
Ghana. Within the fellowships differences in immigration status and time are erased. There is
space for both newcomers and pioneers, the long-term settlers, to cooperate, engage, and
negotiate their presence in Britain. Encapsulation within the fellowship thus allows even
newcomers to achieve status, regardless of legal formalities. In the context of the Methodist
church these are rendered meaningless, conflated with the ‘British’ qualities of being
virtuous, hard-working and law-abiding.
Ghanaian Methodists in London thus understand their role as citizens not through
their direct active engagement in the national British public sphere, but through their active
participation in the Methodist church, its fellowships and associations, the help they extend to
their families in Ghana and Ghanaian nation-building. Being virtuous in their conduct
towards their fellow Ghanaians in Britain and at home qua subjects-citizens, they also
perform a moral role in bringing back the word of God to Britain. They work hard, pay taxes,
attend to the need of others, donate generously to the church and for other causes, help
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organise and attend public events and traditional rites of passage such as weddings, naming
ceremonies and funerals, and take part in welfare initiatives within the church and other
national and ethnic associations. This ideal of the virtuous postcolonial citizen is informed
both by Protestant Christian ethics, in particular the Methodist concept of holiness, the
pursuit of individual Christian perfection, and by Ghanaian cultural values, specifically the
Akan concept of ɔtema a relational and dialogical concept meaning empathy and compassion,
which contains the idea of the pain people feel when pain is inflicted onto others or people
are thought to be suffering. To have ɔtema means to possess the emotional and human
capacity for sociality, to feel and attend to the need of others. This concept, shared by several
ethnic groups in Ghana, defines Akan’s inter-subjectivity. For Akan in London it is cited to
explain why Ghanaians are law-abiding and caring, and are apparently not involved in
criminal activities.
Yet like the Aristotelian and Greek concept of καλὸς κἀγαθόs (Donlan 1973), there
are tensions between the universalist Christian message of holiness and the Akan concept of
ɔtema on the one hand, and the particularism practised by encapsulated Ghanaian Christian
fellowships, on the other. These exclude non-Ghanaians, while also revealing great deal of
competition among the different Christian fellowships. Like for the Greek καλὸς κἀγαθόs, the
Ghanaian virtuous citizen is pulled between personal interests and civic excellence (Develin
1973:71) To be an ideal citizen is hard, achievable by a few celebrated individuals, but the
concept nonetheless help making sense of their lived experience as African migrants in
London, living in an often hostile environment, without recognition and distinction in the
public sphere.
Ghanaians Methodists in London and the Construction of virtuous Citizenship
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The year 2007 was highly symbolic for Ghana, the fiftieth anniversary of Ghanaian
Independence. In London this historical event was marked by a great number of celebrations,
culminating in an official state visit of (now former) President John Kuffour. Nicknamed ‘the
gentle giant’ for his caring and unassuming attitude despite his considerable height, the
President embodied a new era in Ghana’s history, as the country has made great progress
under his rule, politically, socially and economically. His visit to London caused great
excitements for the UK Ghanaian diaspora, who perceives themselves as having contributed
directly to Ghana’s financial growth and rising reputation, and are perceived as having raised
the country’s international profile through their law-abiding,qualities, hard work, and
Christian moraly .They are the ‘true ambassadors of Ghana’2 -- of the country’s moral, civic
and religious values. This discourse is particularly central to the way in which Methodist
Ghanaians have come to conceptualise their presence in Britain. Throughout 2007, the
Ghanaian Methodist Fellowship in Britain was very active in the organisation of the
Independence celebrations, hosting a number of events including two thanksgiving religious
services at the Methodist Westminster Central Hall.
Westminster Central Hall is a highly significant space for Methodists worldwide. A
grandiose and imposing building in the centre of London, opposite Westminster and the
House of Commons, it symbolises the desire of Methodism to emerge in the public sphere in
Britain as a religious institution directly engaged with the political, moral, and social life of
the country (Frost & Jordan 2006: 124). For Ghanaians in London, worshipping at the
Westminster Central Hall, and indeed in other churches within London’s Methodist
landscape, is a sign of their contribution to Britain and of their recognition as good Christians
and good citizens. At the thanksgiving service held for President Kuffour at Westminster
Central Hall, a Ghanaian Minister living in Britain led the prayers for the large congregation
2
These words were pronounced by His Excellency Annan Cato the Ghanaian High-Commissioner to Britain on
the occasion of the Ghana at 50th dinner dance party held at the Ibis Hotel, London, in March 2007.
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of Ghanaians, with the following words: “We are here, praying for the greatness of this
country, Great Britain. This is a Christian country and the Queen, when she was enthroned,
was given a Bible to lead this country. We know that many centuries ago people prayed for
this country and they did it so well that the country is where we are now. Also, we praise
Britain because it gave us John Wesley... and as he said, Praise the Lord!’” The Minister then
opened the singing of a famous Methodist hymn backed by the congregation, singing with
great passion, waving handkerchiefs, smiling and dancing. “We are jubilating,” a woman told
me. The Minister continued: “Everyone in this country knows that we are hardworking
people and law abiding. We have many people of success in the UK, Essien (the famous
Chelsea footballer)” -- the congregation laughed -- “doctors, lawyers and policemen, etc.
May God bless the work of our hands and our contribution to the United Kingdom! We pray
the Lord to give us strength to help the Christian history of this country. We pray for their
leadership, but we especially pray for its citizens. We are also part of it. God bless Great
Britain!”
In the Minister’s words Ghanaians have made a significant contribution to Britain. It
is a contribution that symbolically links postcolonial Ghanaians with colonial Britain and
Ghana through Christianity. For Ghanaian Methodists it is signalled in the words of the
Minister through the figure of John Wesley, founder of Methodism (Halevy 1971). Indeed,
John Wesley is appropriated as a Ghanaian; he has become part of the historical
consciousness of Ghanaian Methodists, a shared ancestor transforming Ghanaian Methodists
into British citizens. More tacitly the Minister’s message reiterates the strong link between
state and church for nation-building and for the making of citizenship3. This is part of a
public narrative in Ghana that associates the state with the church, and according to which
religious institutions like Methodism are seen as the main actors in public political life of the
3
At the inaugural speech of the Annual Conference of the Presbyterian Church of Ghana the Vice-President
Alhaji Aliu Mahama “called on the Church to partner the State to overcome challenges such as poverty,
malnutrition, the digital attitude and unemployment” (www.ghana.gov.gh 20/08/2007)
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postcolony4. If British people have prayed successfully for their own country and contributed
to its growth, Ghanaians aim to do the same both for Britain and for Ghana.
In leaving the building, my companion commented that ‘of course, if you do not have
the passport you are not British, but we contribute to this country, as the Minister said, we
pay taxes, we work, and especially in the church we do a lot... there you can say we are
[citizens]’. John is a first-generation Ghanaian migrant who, like other Ghanaians and
Africans in London, has overstayed his working visa. He knows he is not fully a British
citizen; he can only consider himself a law-abiding, hard-working subject, but he also wants
to share in the minister’s message of Ghanaians’ contribution to the UK. He is ready to
recognise his own contribution to Britain by sharing vicariously the achievements of those
who have made it -- the lawyers, doctors and policemen, even the footballers. He also shares
in the common history binding the two countries via Methodism and their moral role as
Christians. It is in the work in the church, John stressed, that Ghanaians in London become
active citizens and hence entitled to be regarded as British citizens. By stressing ‘Godfearing’ as a Ghanaian quality he reiterated a widely shared discourse that regards religious
belief as the prerequisite for a virtuous life in the community. Citizenship therefore is not
bound to formal status, but is linked to agency and participation.
Empathy (ɔtema), Christian Ideology and the virtuous citizen
Ghanaians fear being tarnished with “shame” (animguase) if the honour of the wider
community is compromised by their behaviour. Although they say that they are just in Britain
to work and help their families and Ghana with their remittances, they also see themselves as
contributing to the economy of Britain. For those who have no legal status and rights and
4
A recent example of the influential role of Christian religious institutions in Ghana is the reinstatement by the
Ghanaian government of “compulsory Religious education” in Ghanaian schools after a high-profile public
campaign lead by a number of Christian churches that demanded that the government overturn a previous
decision. Ghana’s President orders schools to reintroduce religious and moral education, in
(www.assistnews.net, 10/04/2008)
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who cannot vote or participate fully to the public and political life of Britain, being an active
citizen is difficult. Yet people are adamant that they contribute to Britain and they see their
presence here as a positive presence, especially in moral terms. Kofi, a member of the
Ghanain Methodist Fellowship, puts this clearly:
Ghanaians migrants, both legal and illegal, are in fact the best people to work with.
They are the best citizens but they are not recognised. They are the best citizens
because they are not troublesome, they work hard, they are quiet. They wake up, go to
work, shop, go home, cook and then go to work again. They mingle with the
Ghanaian society and then are also God-fearing. (interview, London, May 2007)
Moreover, they are bringing back the word of God to Britain. They are the new Christian
missionaries who, like their European counterparts in colonial Africa, are bringing Christian
values to the largely immoral British society (Ter Haar 1998, Van Dijk 1997). They are
teaching by example the respect for the word of God, for elders, the value of marriage, of
family and community. The presence of Ghanaians in many different churches and the
growth of Ghanaian Independent churches seem sufficient to prove their moral contribution
to the British way of life, despite their relative encapsulation. Their advance within the
church structures is proof of their contribution. Ghanaians worship regularly at the
Westminster Central Hall, boast the largest congregations in most London Methodist
churches, and were the first to be recognised as an ethnic fellowship by the British Methodist
Church when it granted them their own chaplaincy. Ghanaians are adamant that they are
making way into the ‘heart of Britain’5 through their religious congregations. This sense of
moral worth is captured in their hymns, sung in Twi6, part of the Methodist liturgy. The
hymns carry religious messages of moral worth inscribed in the singers’ regimented
5
Informal conversation with Ama, London, April 2007
These hymns are the direct translation in Akan of the traditional Methodist hymns. See Hymns and Psalms,
Methodist Publishing House.
6
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postures,7 but Ghanaians are adamant that their contribution goes further, and is contained in
their dances and drumming. Their liturgy, in their view, is richer and more colourful than the
English version, and it has brought strength to an otherwise ‘boring’ church.
This sense of recognition and moral worth is nurtured within the Christian
fellowships. The fellowships are seen as the space for care, nurture, and attendance to the
need of others. Branches of Ghanaian fellowships at home, they form a single umbrella
organization much like their Ghanaian counterparts. For Ghanaians the fellowships acts like
the abusua, the matrilineal clans, and like the abusua, the fellowships take care of their
members on any occasion, most especially in the course of funerals, ayiyε, which are central
to the formation of Akan personhood. As one minister remembered in the course of a sermon:
On the Cross Jesus wasn’t thinking about himself but of us. This is what you are
expected to do. Think of the other first and then yourself. A lot of people don’t know
the meaning of the word fellowship. Fellowship is unity. It is coming together and
helping each other. If it doesn’t happen is not a proper fellowship. When you send
money back home you do it for the people you love. They are the ones you think of. If
something happens we all contribute. We help the person and this means love. The
fellowship is like a family. (Reverend A.O, London, January 2007).
Like in a family, the fellowships encourage nurturing and helping others in need, both
materially and spiritually, and they are the space in which Ghanaians reflect on their
condition as migrants. Using the famous story of Jesus returning to Nazareth in Luke’s gospel
the Minister brought home this point:
It is very interesting when we go for a visit to Ghana, something funny happens. You
go home and then everybody wants to see you. Your father and mother take[s] you
out to see everybody, the son has come from overseas. They are very happy. They
7
For a comparable analysis see Mbembe 2007
15
want to see you and your parents boast about you.Everyone wants something from
you. But people shouldn’t expect that, because true love is beyond materialistic
things. (Reverend K.A, London, February 2007)
In the course of church meetings members pray for other members, for congregants’
families in Ghana, and for the local church. But they also pray for wider communities. They
direct their prayers to the Methodist church, to Britain and to people who are suffering
worldwide. These prayers move from the particular concerns of individuals for the well-being
and success of immediate relatives, to the universalist values of a Christian in the world
ecumene. They often pray for God’s intercession in relation to matters or events that ‘have
touched their hearts’. Reflecting on local and world news, they prayed, for example, in the
course of my research, for the victims of the Virginia high-tech shootings, for the victims of
the earthquake in Pakistan, for Madeline McCann’s safe return and for the release of Korean
Christian missionaries in Afghanistan. At times these prayers are encouraged through chain
text messages: ‘This is a prayer chain 4 Madeline who was kidnapped on holiday in Portugal,
please pray for a quick safe return 2 her parents and fwd this to evry1 on your contact list.
Never underestimate the power of prayer. You got to send this on. God Bless.’
Fellowships enable people to nurture universal Christian values of care and
compassion alongside the Akan idea of empathy, ɔtema: “You see, we Ghanaians have this
thing... it is taught to us since you are a child...and people are reminded of it when they do
something wrong... don’t you have any of it?”8 Ɔtema was not prominent in people’s
everyday conversations. It was taken for granted that adults possess it, but it emerged clearly
as a public discourse at funerals. During bereavement, fellowships show their generosity
through generous donations and material and spiritual support. And it is in bereavement that
people are able to show ɔtema. One friend told me: ’We organise funerals for our members...
8
Informal conversation Ama, London, October 2007
16
as you know we Ghanaians like funerals... we help them, we support them... so ɔtema is this
capacity to feel the pain... to feel the pain that the other person is feeling. Without that you
would not be able to help the person... you need to feel it.’9 She stressed her point by
clenching her fist and touching her heart. Empathising, feeling the pain that other people feel,
are central to the universalist value of humanity. ɔtema empathy, as the basis for humanity,
thus overlaps with Christian concepts of compassion, care and love. These are intersubjective
notions that help Ghanaian Methodists, and more generally Ghanaians, to elevate their lives
in London to a higher moral plane, which encompasses both diaspora Ghanaians and nonGhanaians alike. It is this capacity to empathise, to have ɔtema that potentially makes
Ghanaian migrants virtuous citizens in the church and in Britain:
... it is not that Ghanaians do not commit crime and steal in this country... you know
some of them they do, of course... but I think that Ghanaians do not really commit
crimes because they know their limits... they like making money easily, like
everybody, but you have this thing, ɔtema, they are thought about since they are
kids... it is the feeling of the pain you cause unto others... so that is why they stop...”
(Ekuia, London, November 2008)
Nevertheless, the high levels of Ghanaian encapsulation within their fellowships have
been criticised as exclusionary by other church members and the church hierarchy, concerned
about schismatic tendencies. This is exemplified by the case of a recent Ghanaian migrant
overstayer who has emerged as a well known figure in London Methodist Diaspora. His
biography illustrates the tension between the concepts of the virtuous active church citizen
and subject of multicultural Britain.
The virtuous and virtual life of an overstayer
9
Informal conversation,
17
John is a first generation Ghanaian Methodist from the Ashanti region in Ghana. A member
of a middle-class family of educationalists and prominent members within the Methodist
church in Kumasi, he arrived in London in 2003, leaving behind his wife and children. A
certified accountant in Ghana, and formerly the manager of an import-export company in
Accra, John works in London as a builder and cleaner on the London Underground. Like
many other middle class Africans who arrived in London with qualifications, from a
relatively wealthy background, John has experienced a loss of status (McGregor 2007,
Akyempong 2001). He doesn’t particularly like his jobs, seeing them as too menial, and feels
that his true potential is unrecognised in Britain. However, not having permanent residence
leaves him with no alternative. Like many other first generation Ghanaian migrants, his social
life in London is highly encapsulated. His network of contacts revolves around his extended
family, former school friends and church and associations members. These contacts have
helped his settlement in London in one way or another. An uncle wrote the letter inviting him
to Britain, and he first arrived with a working visa; another uncle hosted him for six months
before he was able to find his own accommodation; a former business associate in Accra
helped him find his present jobs; a cousin helped him with the bureaucratic procedures of
obtaining a National Insurance Number and GP registration; a friend gave him his first TV
and a mobile phone. All these relations have remained part of John’s network of mutual
dependence and indebtedness that link him simultaneously to London and Ghana. It is,
however, to the Methodist church that he told me he felt the most indebted. The church
provided him with the space to acquire the recognition and status he had lost when he came
to Britain, and made it possible for him to conceive of his presence in the country as an active
and virtuous citizen and a law-abiding subject, despite the lack of formal papers.
John called himself a ‘staunch Methodist’ and said he would not want to change his
affilitation for anything else. He saw Methodism as a very positive force in his life and in the
18
life of his country, Ghana. Methodism was associated for him with nation building, and
especially so in the field of education in which Methodist schools have achieved excellence.
As I was told by one church minister:
[t]he best schools in Ghana are religious schools and the best among them are the
Methodist schools... If you look at the history of Ghana, at independence the cabinet
ministers were for the majority graduates of Mfantsipim College. This is a Methodist
school and the first secondary school in Ghana. In fact, we can say that Ghana was
born in Methodism. (interview, K.A. November 2006).
One acquaintance even suggested to me that the Methodist church could act as the
government in Ghana ’since the church’s constitution is like the country’s constitution.’
John, alongside other Ghanaian Methodists in London, aimed to extend the positive
force Methodism has had on the material growth of Ghana to Britain. He phrased this in
moral terms: Ghanaian migrants would bring spiritual growth to the British Methodist church
and by extension, to the whole of Britain. He took great pride in what he saw as the
consolidation and recognition in Britain achieved by Ghanaians. Commenting on the number
of British ministers who have recently travelled to Ghana, he told me: ‘You see, these
ministers, they like going to Ghana, they want to see and learn and bring our style of worship
here... they know that they can’t do things without us anymore.’ (May 2007). For John the
British Methodist church was seen as dependent on Ghanaian church members. This echoed a
broader argument on the contribution made by migrants to the British economy. Just as
industries such as the service sector, health and caring were dependent on migrant labour, so
too churches also needed the presence of migrants for their survival, growth and
consolidation. But because Methodism is British, Ghanaian Methodists see their contribution
to Britain as more important than that of other churches. John stressed this point:
19
It is like with many things in this country. This is the country of Methodism. They
brought Methodism to us in Ghana and now they are forgetting it. We are here to help
them rediscover that. It is like we are bringing it back to help here; to help with the
spiritual life of the country.
John took an active role in the Ghanaian Methodist Christian fellowships. He attended church
regularly at a Methodist church in North London where he was a steward, as well as being the
financial secretary of the men’s fellowship. He was also the financial secretary of Christ
Little Band-UK, one of the Ghanaian Fellowships, and a member of the Ghanaian Methodist
Fellowship. Holding office was very important for him. He attained personal recognition and
status, alongside the experience of acting as an official and mastering the bureaucratic
language of the state. In John’s own words, he felt this enabled him to be an ‘active citizen’.
When trying to encourage members to participate in the election for the Executive Committee
of Christ Little Band-UK, John appealed to them: ‘You need to cast your vote, don’t be
passive citizens, you need to take sides.’ Like in early post-independence Ghana, associations
in the UK are often ’schools of citizenship’ (Wallerstein 1964). As such they are important
spaces for nation-building.
Within the church John has made many new friendships and considerably extended
his network. Praised for his caring nature and much loved because of his good humoured
disposition, he was able in less than five years to become a respected and popular member of
the Ghanaian Methodist community in London. Through his relentless work, spiritual support
and attendance at services he carved out for himself an important position denied him in the
national public sphere, despite working in menial jobs. Most recently John was nominated a
patron of the Susanna Wesley Mission Auxiliary UK branch (SUWMA-UK), arguably the
most active Ghanaian Methodist fellowship in Britain. From its beginning in Ghana the
fellowship has always been associated with middle-class, successful women and this is also
20
the case in London where the majority of the members are prominent professionals and
businesswomen who settled in London over a long period of time, starting in the 1960s (see
Fumanti 2010). The position of patron was one that John desired very much. He felt very
proud of his achievements when the title was conferred on him in an official ceremony at
Westminster Central Hall in the presence of both British and Ghanaian church Ministers.
Being associated with the fellowship as their patron was symbolically a great step: he had
been bestowed a role of patronage over a group of prominent women who had lived in
London for a lengthy period. As patron, John had joined an illustrious roll call of patrons,
sharing his title with traditional chiefs (nana), Methodist Ministers, successful and wealthy
businessmen and women, doctors, lawyers and professionals. This was certainly testament to
John’s effective work in the church but it also pointed to the social and cultural continuity of
different waves of Ghanaian migrants over a forty-year period, and their continuous
engagement with Ghana and Ghanaian Methodism. John had not been ostracised by the ‘early
comers’, but had been incorporated and accepted as a member of Ghanaian Methodism to
which even the first settlers in Britain remained connected. The London branches of
Ghanaian fellowships mediated their long-term commitment to Ghanaian charitable and
development projects initiated by the church.
John, therefore, like other Ghanaian Methodists in London, actively pursued the ideal
of the virtuous citizen through his involvement in the life of these fellowships, their rituals
and congregational meetings. He paid his tithe regularly, and donated generously during
service for local and international causes, including development initiatives in Ghana. He also
contributed towards funeral expenses and other important rites of passage that sustained the
sociality of Ghanaians in London. John went a step further, however, in displaying his care
and nurturing side: he carved out for himself the role of mentor and counsellor to many of his
fellow church friends. In fact, he stressed that his name meant ‘Good Counsellor’. He told me
21
with great pride how he spent hours on the phone talking to church friends, giving advice and
support, praying or simply conversing: ‘Ah, last night when I came back from work I didn’t
sleep,’ he would often tell me. ’I was on the phone with Auntie Grace, we chatted until six in
the morning, we prayed, we consoled each-other, we chatted, we laughed... ahh it was
beautiful.’ Of course, John was not the only African in London who spent many hours on the
phone with friends. The long distances of travel to work, the very demanding work hours, and
the isolating experience of a city like London, did not leave many opportunities to socialise
outside church meetings. In London, the telephone plays a central role in communicating
with others (see also Harris 2005).
Pursuing the ideal of the virtuous citizen is not easy, and it was fraught for John with
contradictions and limits. His generosity was not simply an act of selfless dedication. It
enacted the Christian notion of generous giving in a system of obligation and indebtedness
stretching between Ghana and London. Paying tithes in the church and donating generously
are conceptualised by Ghanaians in instrumental terms as a transaction with God. This is
spoken of as the planting of seeds that will eventually yield a great harvest, bringing wealth
to the harvester. The idea is intrinsic in Protestant ethics, where wealth is a positive value to
be pursued, but is particularly accentuated in present-day Ghanaian Methodist philosophy as
a consequence of the growth and influence of the Pentecostal gospel of prosperity in Ghana
and Africa more generally (Gifford 2004). The transactional nature of these donations is also
culturally consonant with practices of gift exchange among Ghanaians. This is best described
by the Twi expression, gye to ho mame. Roughly translated it means ‘keep it for me when I
need it’. Gye to ho mame is an expression that accompanies donations in the course of
funerals and other important life events. Through this expression the donor establish a link of
interdependency with the receiver, creating indebtedness and future expectation of
reciprocity. The more one donates the more the return. This is also the logic that infers the
22
contribution for welfare schemes in the Methodist Christian Fellowships. One member put it
in these terms: ’A lot of people attend many associations and fellowships because of what
they get in case of bereavement, or weddings and such… you know, it is really a lot.’
Discussing the benefit of the proposed ‘Ghanaian Methodist Fellowship welfare fund,’ the
chaplain brought this point home very clearly: ‘The fund would be there to help each other in
time of need for the members and also others in the church, if you don’t want to pay then it is
up to you, but you know NCNC… No Contribution, No Chop… if you don’t pay you don’t
benefit.’
Belonging to a Christian fellowship, like any other association, is a way to contribute
to the common good in Ghana and the Diaspora, but is also insurance in case of personal
need to respond to contingencies and unplanned or sudden events occurring in the family,
abusua. Because funerals are central to Ghanaian and Akan sociality, raising funds and
donations towards funeral expenses is very important. The contributions help organise
funerary rites in which the life of the deceased is celebrated and the needs of the living are
strengthened and recognised through care, nurturance and mutual relations. Gye to ho mame,
keep it for me when I need it, is then a long term investment, based on mutual trust,
establishing mutuality and exchange among donor and recipient. John’s donations, like those
of other Ghanaians in the diaspora, included relations stretching between London and Ghana.
Among these, kin demands to remit home remained a central concern. For John and other
overstayers who were unable to travel to Ghana, the financial demands were particularly
compelling and sought after.
Encapsulation, Suspicion and Trust
John’s virtuous achievement as a citizen was confined within the Ghanaian fellowships. As
an overstayer, although he paid taxes he was not a particularly law abiding British subject. He
23
had broken the law by remaining after his visa had expired and had sought ways to gain
citizenship illegally through an arranged marriage, even though he was already married.
Within their fellowships, he and fellow Ghanaians worshipped exclusively in Twi, and used a
liturgy borrowed from Ghana, setting themselves apart from other British Methodists.
Although they also worshipped regularly in multicultural congregations, the scope in these
for the formation of long-term inter-ethnic relationships was rather limited. Ghanaians tended
to dissociate themselves from other ethnic groups, especially other black minorities in the
church. They did so to distinguish their achievements in Britain and their moral standings as
virtuous citizen in opposition to those who are perceived as bad achievers and unlawful.
In particular they distanced themselves from Caribbean and Nigerian, depicting them
stereotypically as unruly, unlawful, violent and bad achievers, a threat to Ghanaian values,
especially for the younger generation. As one parent told me: ‘Our kids, you know when they
hang around, they get really influenced by these other black kids, and they influence them
badly, especially the Caribbeans, their kids don’t do well in school.’10 The Ghanaians I met,
especially those who came to London as students, stressed the poor levels of education of
Caribbeans in particular. This was a common view among Ghanaians, who prided themselves
on their level of education. One of my informants, Attah, recalled:
To be honest when I arrived I couldn’t understand a word of what they were saying.
At first it was fine but then things started to go wrong. I think they saw us as better
achievers than them... you know... I think that the problem is one of education...
When they arrived they did not have a lot of education. They could not get the job
they wanted to do, but only low skilled jobs because at the end of the day that was the
only job they could do, bus drivers, cleaners and so on. So they were not very
educated and their children as well could not be educated. Also a lot of them [the
10
Mary, London, November 2007
24
children] are from single parents and so it is more difficult, so it is really something
that keeps perpetuating [itself]. I don’t blame them but it is what happened I think. I
think sometimes they always think society is against them. Sometimes it is but not all
the time, it’s not society’s fault11.
Even though recent economic migrants from Ghana are employed in menial jobs, they share
these same views on education as the pioneer diasporic Ghanaians in London.
For Ghanaians in London trust, gyade, is critical to their social relations. Gyade
regulates friendships and is particularly important in the diaspora for those without proper
documentation. Gyade binds people to another in reciprocal mutuality and it is sanctioned
morally through the creation of fictive categories of kinship. Ghanaians use kinship
terminology, both in Twi and English, to sanction these relations, such as nua, brother/sister,
when belonging to the same age group as ego, uncle/auntie when belonging to an older
generation than ego. These are common and endearing terms of respect among individuals
belonging to different age groups term. The same concept is also used to establish relations
with other ethnic groups.
When it comes to issue of trust, or gyade, Nigerians are at the top of the list in terms
of unreliability. They share negative stereotypes with Caribbeans, but they are depicted in
addition as wealthy, successful, actively involved in public life, loud and exploitative. Their
wealth is seen as coming from corrupt deals and financial scams, the famous 419 is often
mentioned (Smith 2001). Hence Ghanaians are generally suspicious of Nigerians and try to
distance themselves from them. Yet for those Ghanaians who want or need to manipulate the
system, Nigerians are also revered as they are seen to know all the legal loopholes that enable
the acquisition of whatever documentation is required. Thus lack of trust linked to ethnic
stereotyping contributes to Ghanaian encapsulation. At the same time they construct
11
Interview with Attah, London, December 2007
25
Ghanaian identity as virtuous and trustworthy. There are thus clear limits to the reach of
humanistic values such as ɔtema empathy, and Christian compassion. Yet setting limits to
empathy and compassion is highly problematic for a Christian institution like the Methodist
church, which regards ethnic stereotyping and encapsulation as a problem. Hence, paralleling
the wider national debate on immigration and multiculturalism in contemporary Britain, a
similar debate is currently taking place within the Methodist Church, focused on the
increasing number and role of ethnic minorities, especially of Africans within the church, and
their possible threat to ‘church cohesion’.
Methodism, Multiculturalism and Citizenship
The Methodist church, especially in London, has been reflecting on and debating the role of
ethnic minorities for a long time, at least since the 1970s. Through the work of a number of
progressive ministers working in inner London, the church has recognised and allowed for
the growth of ethnic minorities fellowships to cater for the spiritual needs of different
congregations (Frost and Jordan 2006). Also, contending with its own past of
discrimination12, the Methodist church has been a strong force against racism. In London, the
church has provided a space supporting the numerous and growing ethnic minority
communities, including the recent recognition of new ‘ethnic’ chaplaincies (Ghanaian,
Nigerian, Zimbabwean, Sierra Leonian, Korean and Chinese). Their tendency towards
encapsulation has, however, prompted a fresh debate on ‘church cohesion’. The issue
emerged publicly in 2007, at a Methodist conference held in Derbyshire. The exclusionary
tendencies of their fellowships has also a growing concern for the Ghanaian chaplaincy
which at times must struggle to reconcile Ghanaian exclusiveness with a more inclusive
loyalty to all members of the British Methodist Church and, more generally, Britain.
12
See in particular. Only One Race- the Human Race: Sybil Phoenix and Racism Awareness, in Frost and
Jordan 2006, pp.202-214.
26
Between February the 2nd and the 4th 2007 the World Church Forum (the
international office of the Methodist Church) hosted a conference in Derbyshire entitled
‘Ethnicity, Cohesion and the Church’. As one Methodist minister explained to me, this
conference came about to address several issues. The first was the increasing use of
Methodist church buildings by other Christian denominations. Methodist ministers across the
country reflected on the absence of any interaction between Methodist congregations and
these non-Methodist Christian communities: ‘We just knew them as our users but we wanted
to know more about them as they are using our premises.’13 Letting out premises to other
Christian denominations is a common practice in Britain. With the increasing number of socalled Independent churches, there is a need for more religious buildings across the country,
and it is common to have two or more denominations holding their services in the same
building on any given Sunday. The spatial proximity of other Christian churches, often Black
churches, opened up, in the words of this minister, the need to reflect more widely on the
increasing role of ethnic minorities within Methodism. It is now well accepted by British
churches that without the presence of migrants, Methodism and other Christian
denominations in Britain would be moving towards ‘extinction’. With the dwindling numbers
of white Methodists, the majority elderly members, this is especially so in large urban areas,
while churches have been closing down across the country. The arrival of migrants has
changed the tide.
But the reflections within the Methodist church are not just practical. They involve a
deeper reflection on race, ethnicity and the teachings of Methodism that parallel wider
debates on multiculturalism and race within British society. During the course of March 2007
I interviewed a number of different ministers who had taken part in the conference: four from
Africa, (from Kenya, Zimbabwe and Ghana) and two white British. They all expressed their
13
Interview with Reverend J, Leicester, March 2007
27
concern over these issues, some more clearly than others. On the one hand, the English
ministers expressed a sense of moral debt and guilt for the past attitudes of the Methodist
church. One minister pointed out to me that the Methodist church, like other denominations,
bore responsibility for the way in which race was handled in Britain. Recalling the rejection
of Black Caribbean members in their congregations she said:
I think the Methodist church has responsibilities in that. There are countless accounts
of how Black members were rejected from the congregation and told to go and attend
the church down the road. I think it is time that the Methodist church confronts that
past of racial discrimination and recognises the role of all the different migrant groups
in the church today. We shouldn’t repeat the mistakes we made in the past. (Interview
with Reverend J, Leicester, March 2007)14.
The legacy of racial discrimination and the changing attitudes of the church have
consequences for the relationship between Caribbean and Africans. Many of the Ministers
conceptualised the tense relationship between the two communities as linked to the fact that
while Caribbeans had experienced open, prima facie racism and discrimination, African
congregations were more easily accepted within the changing multicultural context of
contemporary Britain. The Caribbeans had to fend for themselves while for Africans, there
was the example in London of two very large established Korean and Chinese fellowships,
which meant that they had an “easier” path towards recognition. This created a sense within
the Caribbean community of a possible takeover of the church by newly arrived communities,
and lack of acknowledgement of their role in the fight for racial equality in Britain. In
remembering the inauguration of a Ghanaian fellowship in a Methodist church in WestLondon, Kweku stressed this point: ‘When we formed our fellowship you could just imagine
what happened, the Caribbeans started to complain that we were taking over, that we wanted
14
A similar point was also made by another British Minister, J.P., London, February 2007
28
to impose our views.’ When it comes to contending with the church history of racial
discrimination and the legacy of the slave trade, Caribbeans regard Ghanaians and other
Africans equally responsible. It is a painful history, and more than one minister in London
has tried to redress this historical divide by taking Caribbean and Africans members of their
congregations on educational trips of Ghana and the Caribbean. One African Minister told me
emphatically:
There is not a good relationship among them... so I thought that slavery could have
been a key issue in rebuilding trust in the congregation. So we decided to go to
Ghana, many of the Caribbean members went and it was nice, they met with the
relatives of our Ghanaian members there and we all went to the Fort where the slaves
came from. It was very moving for us all, we all embraced each other and cried and
they could see we were part of a system, we were victims too, so after that the mood
in the congregation really improved. (interview, Reverend D. October 2006)
The final motive which has moved the Methodist church towards a more open debate
is the fear of schismatic tendencies within the church. Methodism was historically a
schismatic movement of the Anglican Church15 and for two centuries, from the mid 18th
century until the 1930s,16 British Methodism was composed by a series of different
denominations more or less linked to Anglicanism.17 At the end of the 1800s, American
Methodism departed from British Methodism and only in 1932 were all these groups reunited
under the umbrella of one Methodist church (Vickers 2000, Davies & Rupp 1965).
Methodism is also notable for the freedom given to its different ministers to pursue their own
theological work. Such a freedom runs the risk of encouraging the emergence of charismatic
15
Dreyer (1999) however argues that the genesis of Methodism should be found in the Moravian church.
It is scholarly acknowldeged that Methodism was born on 23/07/1740 (Dreyer 1999). This is the date in which
John Wesley and a small group of friends assembled in the London suburbs of Moorfields and started the
movement.
17
The Final Deed of Union was reached on 20/09/1932 bringing together the Wesleyan Methodist Church, the
Primitive Methodist Church, the United Methodist Church to form the denomination formally known in today as
the Methodist Church of Great Britain.
16
29
leaders within the church, especially in the context of the African diaspora. The conference
and the current debate highlight the concerns within British Methodism regarding possible
tendencies towards the formation of independent churches.
While recognising the different fellowships, the conference’s concern was how these
fellowships should work together for the strength and good of the Methodist Church. The
message that emerged was clear: express your differences, the fellowships are spaces for that,
but remain committed to British Methodism. Help maintain cohesion in the church while
expressing and celebrating your different cultural backgrounds.
Ghanaian Methodists in London had had their own schism, following the official
appointment of the Ghanaian chaplain. A group portraying itself as founders of the Ghanaian
Methodist Fellowship worshipped for a while separately from the rest of the congregation
under the leadership of a Ghanaian preacher, not himself a Methodist, who was using the
premises of a Methodist church to conduct services. The British Methodist church stepped in
through the appointed Ghanaian chaplain and demanded the removal of this self-appointed
minister on the ground that he was not appointed by the church. More importantly, he was not
a member in any Methodist church either in London or Ghana. Not being a Methodist and
belonging to the church polity disqualified him immediately from the role or preacher.
Methodism has at its core the idea of being a polity. ’This is the bedrock of
Methodism,’ a minister told me.18 The polity is regulated by membership cards, which each
member carries. The card functions like an ID or Passport. One Minister explained: ‘The
membership card is very important because if you move house and go somewhere in the
country or other parts of the world where there are Methodist churches, you would carry your
card. We would also write a letter to the local Ministers to introduce you to them [the
18
Interview Reverend J.P., London, February 2007
30
congregation].19’ Methodism as a polity requires forms of identification but also a certain
idea of citizenship both within and beyond the wider polity. It is an idea of citizenship that
allows for flexible citizenship, (Ong 1998) but as it is confined within the limits of a religious
institution. Debating belonging within Methodism is a way of debating one’s role within
British society and transnationally, with Ghana. The debate has led Ghanaians to reflect on
their role in British society and the legitimate limits of their own encapsulation. A few days
after the conference, one minister, who had attended with three other Ghanaian Methodists,
reflected on the long term sustainability of the Ghanaian fellowships which are failing to
attract the younger generation and newer migrants:
There is a risk that we would disappear in a few years’ time. Maybe the language is a
problem, to do it in Twi (i.e. to hold the services). You see, there are a lot of new
fellowships in the church and they are impressive really. The Zimbabweans are very
active, there is soon to be a Nigerian fellowship. But the Chinese and the Koreans,
they are really strong. You know how the Chinese call themselves? The BBC…
British Born Chinese…we need to show the British Methodists that this fellowship
[the Ghanaian] is effective and viable… you know, or there would not be funding for
us any longer as a fellowship.20
His comments reflect the view of some Ghanaians Methodists that integration is
preferable to absolute encapsulation. The joke on the Chinese BBC is an ironic recognition
that encapsulation has its limits. Access to the Methodist church is a sign of recognition and
acceptance within British society, so losing that recognition is something diaspora Ghanaians
do not want to risk. Exclusion from the church would indicate doubt over their allegiance and
loyalty to Britain and ultimately on their right to claim citizenship. Against the suspicion
surrounding ethnic fellowships and the fear of takeover one friend told me:
19
20
Interview Reverend A.O, London, November 2006
Interview with K.A., London, March 2007
31
You see, I don’t think that people understand what we wanted. Our idea was to
promote a positive image about ourselves, our culture and traditions, the way we work
together and how we can contribute to the church and the community we live in. This
is our idea of integration. Not separation. They thought we wanted to discriminate and
separate ourselves, but we wanted to integrate. (Kweku, interview May 2007).
Acquiring recognition through difference, as distinctively Ghanaian Methodists, is central to
the process of integration within the Methodist church and Britain at large. This echoes
Charles Taylor’s point (1994) in his ‘politics of recognition’ that groups have the right to
defend and promote their cultural identities, since it is these which grant them a sense of
equal dignity. Their shared organisational links and common heritage as Methodists means
that Ghanaians feel simultaneously incorporated both into Ghana and the United Kingdom.
This dual heritage defines flexible citizenship within the space of a transnational religious
institution. Within it loyalties are secured and so is a sense of belonging.
Minister Ogoe stressed these interelationships during the inauguration of the
Ghanaian choir in London:
Let us remember who we are. You are a choir within the Ghanaian Methodist
Fellowship. The Ghanaian Methodist Fellowship is part of the Methodist church. First
and foremost our duty is to the British Methodist church as we live in this country and
this is our place of spiritual nourishment. But we are also part of the Ghanaian
Methodist church as Ghanaians. So whatever you do for the fellowship you do it for the
Methodist Church. Let us not forget your service to the Methodist Church as a whole
and to this country in particular. (Reverend Ogoe, London, August 2008)
The Minister underlines in his speech the limits of legitimate encapsulation and the
negotiated construction of virtuous citizenship within the church. The Ghanaian Methodist
Fellowship is at present coming to terms with the need to engage with more inclusive
32
practices of active citizenship. They have become conscious of the necessity of counter what
appears to be an ethnic takeover, but they are also competing for prominence with other
African and Asian fellowships by showing that they are working hard to achieve permanent
roots in multicultural Britain, tolerant of diversity. In order to survive, they need to show that
they are here to stay. Hic Manebimus Optime, we will settle here as best as we can, the Latins
used to say.
Conclusion: Virtual Citizens, Virtuous Citizens
Akan speaking Methodists in London make sense of their diasporic experience through an
idea of citizenship built around the idiom of virtue. Regardless of their legal and formal
status, these migrants feel that they are virtuous citizens of Britain, to which they feel they
belong as Methodists, workers and law-abiding subjects, while remaining doubly rooted, in
Ghana and in Britain. Active membership in the British Methodist church provides the
context for the formation of this alternative construction of citizenship. ‘Virtuous
citizenship’, I have proposed, is rooted in the Methodist Christian ideology of universal and
selfless love and in the Akan concept of empathy, ɔtema. ɔtema empathy for the pain of
others, is at the basis of Akan personhood and sociality, expressed through moral and
material obligations to humanity at large, and more narrowly to family, abusua, and
fellowship members. These fellowships place great emphasis on welfare, mutual assistance,
and nurturing. It is in the course of church activities public events,and rituals, most notably
funerals and birthdays, that these obligations are performed.
Despite their ideal of ‘virtuous citizenship’, however, Ghanaian Methodists live
highly encapsulated lives, distancing themselves from other black ethnic minorities. By
advancing a synthesis between feminist and Aristotelian conceptualisations of citizenship I
have shown, through the case of one migrant overstayer, that ‘virtuous’ and ‘virtual’
33
citizenships are not irreconcilable in the minds of British Ghanaians but are part of the same
alternative construction of citizenship. Virtuous citizenship, even when virtual, is actively
sought by Ghanaians Methodists in London as they try to emerge as a distinctive group
within the Methodist church and Ghanaian diaspora. By making their way in the Methodist
church, Ghanaians feel that they are emerging and contributing to British life even if they do
so from their positioning as an ethnically marginal, exclusive and encapsulated community.
Encapsulation in ethnically exclusive fellowships remains, I have shown in this paper,
a highly problematic concept for the British Methodist Church whose internal debate mirrors
wider debates in Britain on multiculturalism and immigrant citizenship. At the same time the
church has tried to promote an idea of active and communitarian citizenship among its
various migrant ethnic fellowships. Ghanaians themselves are becoming increasingly aware
of the critique of encapsulation, but from their point of view ethnic fellowships do not imply
exclusion of exclusiveness: they are the loci where people’s agency is experienced, and
where people gain recognition, distinction and visibility, often in contrast with their lives
outside the church. It is there that they make a valuable contribution to the British Methodist
church. The fellowships allow Methodist Ghanaians to remain doubly rooted, in Ghana and
Britain, as flexible postcolonial virtuous, if at times virtual, citizens. And it is in addressing
the paradoxes of flexible citizenship as it is experienced within the limits of a religious
institution that this paper aims to bring a fresh contribution on the themes of multiculturalism,
transnationalism and diasporic citizenship.
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