Archbishop on Kidnapping, Conflict and the Hope That Sustains Cameroon’s Catholics| National Catholic Register
Editor’s Note: This is the fourth in a series of articles based on the author’s recent reporting trip across Africa. Previous articles looked at the Catholic Church’s presence in Cameroon, Togo and Kenya.
Archbishop Emeritus Cornelius Fontem Esua of Cameroon — where more than 38% of the country’s 30 million people are Catholic — witnessed the transition from a Church led by white missionaries to one governed by local clergy.
“The Church started in the Middle East and moved to Europe and then to the Americas, Asia and Africa. It is now moving back to Europe from the so-called mission lands. The Church in its nature is missionary — missionary to itself and missionary to others,” he explained to the Register.
Archbishop Esua was a 17-year-old seminarian when the country gained independence from France and Great Britain in 1960, a legacy still causing socio-political violence. A graduate of Pontifical Urban University and the Pontifical Biblical Institute, he was ordained in 1971, the first Catholic priest from the Mbo tribe.
In 1982, he was selected as bishop for the new diocese of Kumbo at age 39. In 2004, he was named coadjutor and in 2006 archbishop of Bamenda. I interviewed Archbishop Esua in Washington, D.C., after learning about him while reporting in Cameroon.
Your Excellency, you’ve lived through historic change. Was the transition from white missionary leadership in Africa to local Black bishops a natural phenomenon or did the Holy See play a significant role?
It was a gradual move, as well as a plan by Vatican policy. Some of the missionaries gladly welcomed it. I remember the Dutch Bishop Jules Peeters, who said, when he became bishop of Buéa in 1962, “I will not be bishop for more than 10 years.” And 10 years later, he resigned. His successor was a Cameroonian priest. I think that a number of them were very clear that they were going to hand the Church over to the local clergy.
At the same time, the policy after Second Vatican Council supported this transition. When I was [working] in Propaganda Fide, in 1967, there was a whole question around indigenization. It was, however, a gradual process. At that time, there were still Portuguese priests from Mozambique and Angola but gradually that changed.
When I became bishop in Kumbo, we had two diocesan priests, and the rest were all missionaries — 23 missionaries and two local priests. Twenty-two years later, when I moved to Bamenda, there were only two or three missionary priests still in Kumbo, while over 100 local priests had been ordained.
You were studying in Rome when Pope Paul VI traveled to Uganda in 1969 and inaugurated the conference of African bishops, SECAM. It was the first papal pilgrimage to the continent. Uganda was for decades the face of the Catholic Church in East Africa. What was the visit’s importance?
I was beginning my third year of theology when the Pope visited Uganda and declared, “You Africans are missionaries to yourselves.” It marked a new page in the history of the Church in Africa, now considered mature enough to stop being always on the receiving end. The Pontiff delivered a message of trust and hope.
When Paul VI returned to Rome, there was a Thanksgiving Mass in St. Peter’s Basilica. African students at the Holy See were invited to animate the Mass. We sang mostly in African languages using the tam-tam drums and other African musical instruments, dancing and processing with gifts. It was an inculturated African liturgy — a novelty and curiosity strange to many onlookers.
The next morning, L’Osservatore Romano and other papers ran headlines such as, “La Jungla del Vaticano!”
I read that the Cameroonian bishops had an ad limina meeting with Pope John Paul II just a month after you were named bishop of Kumbo. What was that meeting like?
Each bishop had five to eight minutes with the Pope. He wanted me to show him where my diocese was — it was not even on his map! He knew I was appointed in the Anglophone part of Cameroon, but we did not get into colonial details. I was so impressed by his level of attention.
Three years later, Pope John Paul II came to Cameroon and had a great impact. He spoke to families, youth, priests, the elite — very much about education and the family. He was impressed by President Paul Biya, a Catholic. In 1995, the Pope returned, baptized Biya’s son in Yaoundé, the capital, and released Ecclesia in Africa. Cameroon was the favored papal country in Central Africa, then Pope Benedict XVI visited in 2009. [President Biya, now 92, was reelected earlier this year.]
With Pope Francis, it was totally different. He did not receive bishops one-by-one but by ecclesiastical province. He said what he thought, adding, “Don’t quote me.” It was very interesting.
You were archbishop in Bamenda when, in 2016, war broke out in your region, the English-speaking part of Cameroon, where about 20% of the nation’s people live, some 6 million people. The so-called Anglophone Crisis is an ongoing, tragic conflict. How do you explain it?
The problem has to do with two different colonial systems. West Cameroon [Northwest and Southwest provinces today] was managed by the British as a trusteeship, versus East Cameroon, which was a French colony, controlled by France.
England never considered Cameroon a colony as it did with Nigeria. The British introduced indirect rule. They used traditional rulers who organized according to our traditions. There was even a House of Chiefs, which met in Buéa. The British also brought common law. The French colonial system centralizes everything, especially government and the legal system — the Napoleonic justice system. The two systems of education are also very different.
Until 1972, the two federal states, East Cameroon and West Cameroon, were largely autonomous. But after that, the predominantly Francophone system of government began assimilating Anglophones and not giving them the possibility of preserving their systems of education, government or law.
What happened in 2016?
When the central government began imposing French teachers and judges on Anglophone schools and courts, people went on strike — the teachers first. Then the military escalated the conflict with violence.
The Church tried to create dialogue. Bamenda was burning. We got the so-called ringleaders and governor to meet. The Anglophone protesters presented their grievances, and the governor said he would carry the grievances to Yaoundé. He seemed understanding. We thought the problems were going to calm; the leaders of the strike left the meeting — but before they got home, their homes were attacked by the military. That same night. It was the last straw.
Some left Bamenda and went to Nigeria. Some of them were arrested and sent back to Cameroon. They are still in jail but have never been tried. Others went into exile. I decided not to have any more contacts for security reasons. I’m not for separatism. I think the best solution is federalism. First, we don’t know why federalism was scrapped. Let’s live as one country, in separate states. You have the same thing in the U.S. and Switzerland.
In 2019 you were kidnapped while traveling in the embattled region. Thankfully, you were soon freed. What did you say to your captors?
Separatist fighters brought me and four companions from our car to an encampment overnight because we removed roadblocks. I told the young men, “You are making people suffer. We cannot achieve anything good with evil.” I told them about the importance of education and asked them to let the schools remain open. They said they were fighting to free their land and people from Francophone domination and assimilation.
How should the Church handle issues related to Islam in your view?
Here in Cameroon, the Islamic community is not aggressive, except for some Boko Haram activity in the country’s north. Islam may be growing, but the main reality is families with Muslims, Catholics and non-Catholic Christians, and pagans all working and living together. The dialogue of life must be promoted — the belief that religion is not a means of division but a choice to worship God, which should not put us against each other.
That is the main spirit in Cameroon. We have a dialogue of life that is very strong.
How could the Vatican improve its service to the Church in Africa?
Help us become more self-reliant. Since financial backing and personnel from Europe are decreasing, we must learn the mechanisms of income generation. When I became bishop I said, “Look, I have no finances to give you, but let us work together to build up our diocese.” Local people now understand they are the Church and have to support the Church, no matter how small [the contribution] is. That is great — a dramatic change.
We also built microfinance mechanisms: Putting finances together allows the smaller poor parishes to continue. If you don’t pull together, each parish fends for itself and creates competition. Let stronger ones support weaker ones. Breaking that cycle of rich versus poor, we put all our resources together. The Church is the hope of the people — especially the hope of the poor.
Looking back, what have been your ministry’s priorities?
Evangelization, promoting the participation and collaboration of the laity, and the promotion of vocations have been my priorities. The number of priests and religious have increased so much; we now send diocesan priests as missionaries to other dioceses in and out of Cameroon. including to the U.K., Italy, U.S. and Central African Republic.
By sending priests and religious to the older churches who evangelized us, we are not just paying a debt owed to them, especially now that they are experiencing a shortage of vocations, we are playing our role in God’s mysterious plan of salvation.