President William Ruto during a meeting with the Kenya Conference of Catholic Bishops at State House, Nairobi, on August 19, 2026. [PCS]

The relationship between religion and politics becomes especially delicate during a general election. Religious leaders command moral authority, while politicians seek public authority. Both may contribute to public debate, but blurred boundaries can reduce faith to a campaign tool and erode the independence that gives religious institutions credibility.

Jesus provides a useful starting point. When questioned about the imperial tax, he answered: “Give back to Caesar what is Caesar’s, and to God what is God’s” (Matthew 22:21). The statement does not ban believers from politics. Rather, it recognises that political authority has a legitimate but limited sphere. Caesar must not claim what belongs to God, and religious allegiance must not be surrendered to political power. Against that background, let me discuss four dimensions on this blurred boundary.

First, some religious leaders have said openly that they do not want to be deceived again by politicians who profess faith during campaigns but abandon its values after taking power. Candidates speak the language of faith, attend services, seek prayers and present themselves as defenders of religious values. Once elected, however, some govern in ways that contradict the justice, honesty, compassion and accountability they previously proclaimed.

Niccolò Machiavelli anticipated this political performance. In 'The Prince', he advised that a ruler should appear “merciful, faithful, humane, upright, and religious”. Machiavelli’s strategic approach to political communication remains an unsettling reminder that visible piety may be cultivated as an instrument of power.

Religious leaders have to guard against institutional capture. When politicians receive unrestricted access to pulpits and congregations, they may treat religious institutions as campaign infrastructure. Large donations may also create expectations of endorsement or silence. An institution dependent on political access gradually loses its freedom to criticise wrongdoing. In other words, there is no free lunch, as it were.

Second, betrayal may produce an equally dangerous reaction: The weaponisation of faith against politicians. Religious leaders who feel used may mobilise congregations against particular candidates. Politicians, meanwhile, may weaponise faith by displaying public piety, quoting scripture selectively or portraying opponents as hostile to religion. In both cases, faith is instrumentalised for political gain.

Religion should not become ammunition in an electoral contest. Its proper public role is broader: Defending human dignity, demanding peaceful campaigns, condemning corruption and ethnic incitement, promoting truthful communication, and insisting that elections remain fair regardless of who is competing. Religious leaders should remain the conscience of the political process, not alternative campaign managers.

Third, the sacralisation of politicians prevents serious scrutiny. Declaring that a candidate is “chosen by God” can make political questioning appear like spiritual rebellion. It discourages citizens from investigating the candidate’s record, competence, integrity, associates and policies. Elections are decisions about public responsibility.

Believers may affirm that history remains under God’s sovereignty. That conviction, however, should not be reduced to the claim that every aspirant (or every winner) has received divine approval. Principled, God-fearing candidates sometimes lose, while people with questionable records win. Victory may reflect organisation, money, ethnic mobilisation, popularity, manipulation or voter choices; it does not certify moral character.

Fourth, religious communities that previously lined up their faithful behind a candidate now have an opportunity to recover their independence. Politicians come and go, but faith in God remains. A religious community takes a grave risk when it campaigns for a candidate because it expects appointments, money, protection or preferential treatment. Such favours are often secured at the expense of citizens outside the favoured group, weakening equitable service delivery and the common good.

I argue that religious leaders should influence politicians through moral principles, public accountability and concern for the common good. Politicians may engage religious leaders, but they should not purchase their loyalty, direct their teaching or turn sacred institutions into campaign machinery. Religious leaders should guide consciences, provide principles for making sound judgments in voting, and ensure the electoral process is respected.

In a country where politicians set people against each other, there is nothing that stops them from seeing places of worship as campaign platforms and religious leaders as campaign allies. Religious leaders have a spiritual role that goes way beyond elective campaigns before, during and after.

- Dr Mokua is Director Loyola Center for Media and Communications