As a young man, I had the opportunity to travel across this wondrous planet. The longest stretch I spent was in North Africa. It was there that I witnessed the negative effects of culture and religion on populations simply trying to survive financially. In many places, there was no social safety net, no welfare and few free community services. Health care was often nonexistent in both rural and urban areas. The only medical help I found was frequently near a Christian church or a mosque, and these services were usually open to anyone, regardless of religious or cultural identity. That part, at least, was good.
North Africa includes more than a hundred ethnic groups, many of which identify as distinct from one another. Religions there reflect regional Indigenous traditions alongside two major monotheistic faiths: Islam and Christianity. The most intense conflicts often arise between these two imported systems. Christianity arrived through European colonial authorities and later American evangelical movements; Islam spread through conquest and long-term conversion centuries earlier. Today, both compete for membership, political influence, and funding. Evangelical and Baptist groups often receive support tied to Western corporate and philanthropic interests, while Islamic organizations are frequently funded by donors in Saudi Arabia and other Middle Eastern nations.
These groups vie for power in a diverse and densely populated region where extreme wealth and extreme poverty coexist. Some right-wing Christian organizations seek influence with those in power, and their connection to the United States often protects and sustains them. Armed Islamist factions are sometimes linked to charitable fronts. Money flows as freely as the blood of an unprotected population.
In recent years, there have been credible reports of religiously motivated attacks across parts of Africa, including assaults on places of worship and clergy. Such violence is not new; similar patterns were visible decades ago. Ethnic and religious hatred does not follow a timeline; it persists wherever power, fear, and competition intersect.
Culture and religion have too often been used as excuses for division, oppression, and murder on a continent rich in natural resources that outsiders want and need. American, Chinese, Middle Eastern, and European interests have long relied on a familiar strategy: divide and conquer. Formal colonialism may have ended, but domestic greed and external pressure still fuel competition. Local power brokers (sometimes acting on behalf of global corporations) push their own people aside to harvest the continent’s wealth.
Culture + Religion = Competition.
Competition = Opportunity for outsiders.
Opportunity = Violence and the absence of peace.
When you say you are of a particular culture or religion, you label yourself. Labels can unite people positively, but they also separate often from breeding comparison and competition. You know the routine: “My group or idea is better than yours.” Extremism can grow out of that mindset, pulling others into closed circles. Words turn into actions, and violence follows.
I know people who speak proudly of Black or Indigenous culture. Much of that pride is well-earned. History shows that labels gain dangerous significance when taken to extremes. Look at a Russian citizen and a Ukrainian citizen: you see a person until you label them. Then everything changes.
Divisions are often stronger than the forces that try to unite us. Christianity and Islam, like many religions, aim to bring people together. Yet even that unity can be corrupted by the oldest transgressions: greed, pride, selfishness, and coveting what belongs to others.
Why can’t we simply label ourselves human first? He is a man, or a woman, not an “Aboriginal” or a “Black person” before anything else. Our religions need not compete for membership when, at heart, many of us pray to the same divinity. Even the names of gods are labels reflections of human nature more than divine necessity.
Culture is the lived commonality of a people. Religion is one expression of faith in something greater. They differ across humanity yet share a similar purpose: to give life meaning. Perhaps all our differences can be gathered into one global purpose: to live with smiles on our faces and peace in our hearts. To be human. Nothing else. Simply human.