The duty to obey juristic injunctions in Islamic law is often assumed to follow a simple model: God commands, the jurists discover the meaning of those commands, and the faithful follow the jurists’ interpretation. By examining the arguments advanced by some prominent classical Islamic jurisprudes in support of the claims for law's normativity, I show that the jurists saw themselves as representatives of their communities in the quest to formulate opinions about actions in a way that is faithful to revelation. This model can be summarized as follows: (1) the jurists, by virtue of their knowledge, inform individuals of how to act according to revelation; (2) the pronouncement of a jurist who is knowledgeable and fair may be followed without revisiting their justifications; (3) everyone has a duty to act according to revelation and to rebuke those who do not. A reasonable individual should be motivated to follow juristic pronouncements when all these conditions are present. My main claim is that the basic model wherein God is an authoritative commander and the jurists are informants is unsatisfactory. The jurists saw themselves as more than mere discoverers and informers. This Islamic model has unique features when it comes to understanding authority in general. The uniform commitment to a formal moral source, coupled with the contingent nature of the robust reasons given by the system, make the Islamic model distinct from some modern accounts. The Islamic model offers a view of legal authority that is specific to a cohesive community that shares a basic moral commitment. This model fits the classical need for a theory of authority that is both persuasive and authoritative.

This article combines historical and philosophical analysis to examine and critique the ideas motivating Christian conservative legal activism. Such activists routinely claim to be motivated by a Christian worldview, which they define as a comprehensive explanation of reality that determines all their thinking and action, including their legal activism and argumentation. Examination of the historical and philosophical roots of the concept of worldview identified by Christian thinkers reveals two understandings of the concept: an analytic tool for rationally comparing the evidence for different social philosophies, and a pre-theoretical lens that determines what counts as evidence in the first place. Christian conservatives have largely favored the first sense of worldview as a tool to understand issues like sexuality and gender identity in an essentialist way and to demonstrate with foundationalist logic the rational superiority of their legal conclusions about these issues. However, a comparison of the Christian conservative worldview and the queer theory worldview illustrates how this understanding of worldview as a tool fails because there is no neutral perspective outside of any worldview, from which one could examine and compare one to another. The idea of worldview as a pre-theoretical, historically, and socially contingent lens can be more productive. Embracing this notion of worldview in a personalist way is necessary to build a culture of dialogue that uses narrative to pursue the truth while also respecting and honoring the different perspectives from which these narratives are told.

Some years back, around 2013, I was asked to write an article on the uses of the Bible in African law. Researching references to the Bible and biblical law across the African continent, I soon learned that, besides support for arguments by a few states in favor of declaring themselves “Christian nations,” the main use was in emerging debates over homosexuality and same-sex relationships—almost exclusively to condemn those relationships. In January 2013, the newly formed African Consortium for Law and Religion Studies (ACLARS) held its first international conference at the University of Ghana Legon. There, African sexuality debates emerged forcefully in consideration of a paper by Sylvia Tamale, then dean of the Makarere University School of Law in Uganda, who argued pointedly, “[P]olitical Christianity and Islam, especially, have constructed a discourse that suggests that sexuality is the key moral issue on the continent today, diverting attention from the real critical moral issues for the majority of Africans . . . . Employing religion, culture and the law to flag sexuality as the biggest moral issue of our times and dislocating the real issue is a political act and must be recognised as such.”

In many African societies, gender roles and sexuality are intensely scrutinized, policed, and often enforced. Frequently, this situation results in perceived deviations being characterized in very strong terms. Many Africans across religious and denominational boundaries seem united in their opposition and criticism of same-sex relationships. In the twenty-first century, criminalization of same-sex relationships has witnessed an uptick across the continent. In Nigeria, same-sex union was criminalized in 2014, an act that witnessed massive support from Protestant, especially Pentecostal, Christian communities. Prominent Pentecostal leaders spearheaded the campaign in support and defense of the anti-gay laws in the country. Reasoned opposition to a practice based on religious faith, doctrine, and scriptural prescriptions is an integral aspect of the protection for the practice of religion. However, there is a palpable tension in the debates around rights to free sexual expression as a fundamental element of legally protected human rights and the equally constitutionally embedded right to religious practice, expression, and exercise. At what point, therefore, does the respect for the free exercise of religion and religious expression come into conflict with the respect for, and protection of, minority rights such as claimed rights to sexual expression such as many LGBTQI persons are increasingly contesting? Framed differently, is the verbal and non-verbal promotion of hatred, violence, indignity, and insult or giving offence to a segment of the population based on sexual orientation a part of free religious expression? How do the Pentecostal arguments against same-sex relations in Nigeria approximate to hate speech, defined as a verbal attack on a person or group of persons based on their attributes such as gender and sexual orientation, religion, or ethnicity? To analyze these and related issues, this essay examines the arguments used by the leader of the largest Pentecostal organization in Nigeria—and by far, the most important Pentecostal voice in the country—in the wake of the legal prohibition of homosexuality in Nigeria in 2014.

The increased visibility of same-sex relationships and the call for same-sex marriages have been particular challenges to the traditional marriage system in Africa in the contemporary period. While some critics have argued, erroneously, that same-sex relationships were completely unknown to the African continent until the advent of Western modernity, others have suggested that the practices speak to a greater malaise confronting African societies. Nigeria is not an exception in this case. In light of these trends, this article examines the Same-Sex Marriage Prohibition Act, which was promulgated by the Nigerian government in 2014 and has since led to infractions upon the human rights of citizens in same-sex relationships. The article examines these developments around same-sex relationships in the context of wider social and economic challenges to the traditional marriage institution in Nigeria.

In Kenya, debates about sexual orientation have assumed center stage at several points in recent years, but particularly before and after the promulgation of the Constitution of Kenya in 2010. These debates have been fueled by religious clergy and by politicians who want to align themselves with religious organizations for respectability and legitimation, particularly by seeking to influence the nation's legal norms around sexuality. I argue that through their responses and attempts to influence legal norms, the religious and political leaders are not only responsible for the nonacceptance of same-sex relationships in Africa, but have also ensured that sexuality and embodiment have become a cultural and religious battleground. These same clergy and politicians seek to frame homosexuality as un-African, unacceptable, a threat to African moral and cultural sensibilities and sensitivities, and an affront to African moral and family values. Consequently, the perception is that homosexuals do not belong in Africa—that they cannot be entertained, accommodated, tolerated, or even understood. Ultimately, I argue that the politicization and religionization of same-sex relationships in Kenya, as elsewhere in Africa, has masked human rights debates and stifled serious academic and pragmatic engagements with important issues around sexual difference and sexual orientation while fueling negative attitudes toward people with different sexual orientations.

This essay revisits the debates and legal contests that grew in Cameroon at the turn of the millennium but failed to bring justice for members of the lesbian, gay, bisexual, transgender, and queer (LGBTQ) community. Several members of sexual minorities were tried in Cameroon courts and sentenced to serve jail time. In order to reflect on the state of legal limbo for LGBTQ people in Cameroon, I also revisit the South African case Minister of Home Affairs and the Director General of Home Affairs versus Marie Adrianna Fourie and Cecelia Johanna Bonthuys, which led to legalization of same-sex relationships and marriage in South Africa. In the first and longer part of the essay, I discuss the situation in Cameroon and South Africa. In the second part, I briefly discuss the different legal outcomes in the two countries. I conclude with a brief discussion of signs of hope in the critical dialogue on justice in the debate on same-sex relations in Africa. My goal in this essay is not to offer expert opinion on the legal entanglements on the question of same-sex relations, but to demonstrate that legal and constitutional protections offer the best chance for gaining the rights of LGBTQ people in Africa.