Opinion | When “Us First” Becomes Our Undoing

The head of Germany’s Catholic bishops last week warned against the dangers of rising nationalism in his Christmas sermon, arguing that the interconnected nature of the modern world makes isolation not only unrealistic, but destructive.

“Where does this new selfish nationalism, with its slogan of ‘us first,’ ultimately lead?” Bishop Georg Bätzing asked in the Limburg Cathedral, according to the pre-distributed text of his sermon.

Bätzing framed the Christmas message of God arriving as a defenceless child as a radical alternative to the power games of the mighty, an idea that directly challenges politics built on fear, exclusion, and domination.

“I admit, this idea has always personally fascinated me and convinced me to believe,” the 64-year-old chairman of the German Bishops’ Conference said.

“The God to whom Christians profess their faith is so free that he relinquishes all divine power.”

For Christians, Christmas marks the birth of Jesus Christ, believed to be God incarnate, who enters the world not as a ruler, conqueror, or strongman, but as a vulnerable child born into poverty. It is a message that turns power on its head.

While German Catholic bishops are warning against nationalism in a country largely united by shared identity, history, and institutions, the Zambian challenge is both different and more fragile.

In Zambia, a nation of more than 70 ethnic groups, the danger is not a single nationalism, but fractured nationalism, a politics increasingly framed around “our tribe first.” We see it repeatedly in election campaigns, public appointments, development priorities, and even everyday conversation.

Tribalism in Zambia is rarely loud. It is subtle, coded, and often disguised as cultural pride or regional loyalty. But beneath the surface, it functions as a powerful political weapon, used to mobilise support, reward allies, exclude others, and silence accountability.

We hear it when development projects are justified or condemned based on where they are located rather than who needs them most. We see it when corruption allegations are defended not on evidence, but on the identity of the accused. We feel it when national conversations quietly shift from “Is this right?” to “Is this one of ours?”

Unlike open nationalism, tribalism fractures the nation quietly. It does not declare enemies outside the border. It creates enemies within. And once leaders learn that loyalty can replace integrity, competence becomes optional and accountability collapses.

This is where Bishop Bätzing’s Christmas reflection speaks powerfully to Zambia.

The image of God choosing vulnerability over dominance challenges our fixation on strongmen, ethnic champions, and political “protectors”. It reminds us that leadership grounded in fear and exclusion ultimately hollows out society, no matter how loudly it claims to defend “its people”.

Zambia’s diversity has always been its strength, not its weakness. Our peace has been built on restraint, tolerance, and the refusal to reduce citizenship to tribe.

But these values do not sustain themselves automatically. They must be defended deliberately, especially by leaders, clergy, and citizens who understand that once tribal loyalty becomes the currency of power, the nation itself becomes expendable.

Christmas, at its core, is not a celebration of dominance. It is a reminder that true authority serves, listens, and includes. In a country as diverse as Zambia, that message is not just theological, it is political, civic, and urgent.

If “our tribe first” becomes our guiding principle, the question we should all ask is the same one Bishop Bätzing posed in Limburg:

Where does it ultimately lead?

History, including our own, gives us the answer.