The Archbishopric of Sarah Mullally: A New Colonialism in Anglican Garb

“When truth is no longer the measure of unity, power becomes the measure of communion.”

The election of Dame Sarah Mullally as Archbishop of Canterbury has been hailed in England as a triumph of progress and equality. Yet across the global Anglican world, it has been received not with applause but with alarm. To many bishops and clergy in the Global South, it marks a decisive break with both Scripture and catholic order — a moment when the Church of England ceased to be the guardian of faith and became instead the emissary of cultural revolution.

The Church of Nigeria, the world’s largest Anglican province, has described the move as “devastating.” Its Primate, Archbishop Henry Ndukuba, declared that the election “disregarded the convictions of the majority of Anglicans who are unable to embrace female headship in the episcopate.”¹ In Nigeria’s view, the English hierarchy has not merely acted without consultation — it has acted in open defiance of the theological conscience of the wider Communion.

This development does not represent progress but a new imperialism: not one of armies and colonies, but of ideas and ideologies, exported from a post-Christian West to the still-believing world.

A New Colonialism
In the nineteenth century, Anglican missionaries carried the Gospel and English forms of worship to the ends of the earth. They brought with them the faith, the Scriptures, and a moral code that transformed nations. In the twenty-first, their successors export something very different — a theology stripped of transcendence and retooled to fit the categories of modern liberal society.

The appointment of a female Archbishop of Canterbury was not the result of spiritual discernment but of sociological inevitability. It was a gesture designed to appease the secular establishment, not to guard the deposit of faith. The decision communicates to the world that revelation evolves, that Scripture bends before the age, and that the Church must mirror the world to survive in it.

Yet in proclaiming this gospel of inclusion, the Church of England has committed a grave contradiction: it has excluded the majority of the faithful Anglican world — those who cannot and will not compromise Scripture to suit Western politics.

This is not inclusion but colonisation — the old empire reborn as ecclesiastical progressivism, demanding that African, Asian, and Caribbean Anglicans conform to the moral sensibilities of London and Oxford.

The Patronising of the Faithful
The reaction from the Global South has been one of sorrow and incredulity. From Nigeria to Uganda, from Rwanda to Kenya, bishops and clergy have spoken of betrayal and of a widening gulf between faith and fashion. The Church of Uganda, led by Archbishop Stephen Kaziimba, reiterated that it “cannot recognise the moral or spiritual leadership of a church that blesses sin.”²

In these churches, the Bible is not a text for revision but the living Word of God. Their congregations are growing, their seminaries full, their people zealous for Christ — and yet they are dismissed as “backward” or “rigid” by the very church that once sent missionaries to them. This reversal is a moral scandal: the faithful majority, vibrant and orthodox, is treated as a problem to be managed rather than a witness to be heeded.

Western Anglicans speak of the Global South as if it were an immature pupil who must one day catch up with its enlightened teacher. But in reality, it is the teacher who has forgotten the lesson, and the pupil who still remembers it. The postcolonial irony could hardly be greater.

Derogatory Rhetoric and Cultural Condescension
If this were only a matter of differing exegesis, dialogue might still be possible. But the deeper wound lies in how Global South convictions are habitually caricatured or dismissed. The rhetoric from progressive Anglican voices, and often from the Western press, betrays an enduring paternalism toward the very churches that now represent the majority of the Communion.

Progressive commentator Giles Fraser once described opposition to the liberalisation of sexual ethics within the Church as part of a “battle against global religious fascism.”⁷ The phrasing, though polemical, revealed the contemptuous lens through which many progressives view the Global South — not as faithful Christians contending for truth, but as reactionary zealots obstructing enlightenment.

A 2010 Observer leader similarly spoke of “homophobic repression” in Africa and rebuked Anglican “quiet diplomacy,” a sweeping indictment that reduced theological conviction to pathology.⁸ The following month, Savitri Hensman, writing in The Guardian, described the conservative push for the Anglican Covenant as “the culmination of a homophobic drive for power,” pathologising fidelity as prejudice.⁹

Nor has the Church’s official leadership escaped this asymmetry. When Nigerian Primate Henry Ndukuba’s strong language on homosexual practice provoked outrage in 2021, Archbishop Justin Welby issued a public condemnation, calling his words “unacceptable.”¹⁰ ¹¹ ¹² While rebuke for incivility is understandable, Global South leaders noted the contrast: Rome never publicly rebukes African prelates for orthodoxy, yet Canterbury publicly censures them for upholding it.

Even recent analytical coverage of Mullally’s appointment displays this patronising tone. Some Anglican media suggested that Global South leaders “over-weight” sexuality issues, treating their moral seriousness as an emotional excess rather than a reasoned conviction.¹³ The very language of analysis thus reproduces a colonial dynamic: Western modernity as the measure of maturity, Africa and Asia as emotional and unrefined.

When the mother church describes the conscientious convictions of the faithful majority as “fascism,” “repression,” or an “obsession,” it reveals not leadership but a lingering colonial instinct — catechising the Global South with Western contempt rather than with the Gospel of Christ.⁷⁻⁹

A Communion without Communion
The Archbishop of Canterbury once served as the moral anchor of Anglican unity — not a pope, but a symbol of shared faith and mutual respect. Today, that office has become the epicentre of fracture.

GAFCON, the Global Anglican Future Conference, representing tens of millions of Anglicans, has stated plainly that it “no longer recognises the moral authority of Canterbury.”³ The Global South Fellowship of Anglican Churches (GSFA) echoed that sentiment, lamenting that the election of a progressive Archbishop “further divides an already split Communion.”⁴

For these churches, communion is no longer defined by hierarchy but by fidelity — fidelity to Scripture, to creedal orthodoxy, and to the moral law of God. Their allegiance is not to Canterbury, but to Christ. And thus the unthinkable has happened: the missionary provinces now evangelise the mother church.

The See that once sent Augustine to England has become the See that sends relativism to the world. The very instrument of unity has become the agent of division.

Fidelity, Not Fashion
Supporters of Sarah Mullally argue that the Church must reflect society in order to remain relevant. But relevance detached from revelation is simply capitulation. The Church does not save by mimicry but by transformation. The world does not need to see itself sanctified; it needs to see itself redeemed.

Those who defend apostolic order are not clinging to patriarchal privilege but to divine pattern. The male priesthood and episcopate are not cultural artefacts but theological realities, rooted in the incarnation and in Christ’s spousal relationship to His Bride, the Church. The priest, as icon of the Bridegroom, signifies the sacrificial love of Christ for His people. To erase this symbol is not to expand equality but to diminish mystery.

Moreover, Mullally’s public support for the blessing of same-sex unions further compounds the doctrinal rupture.⁵ For those who still hold to the moral clarity of Scripture, this development is not inclusion but inversion — calling good evil and evil good. The Church that blesses what God forbids ceases to be prophetic and becomes complicit.

A Church in Revolt against Its Own Faith
The crisis revealed by this election is not new. It is the culmination of decades of theological erosion within the Church of England. From the ordination of women to the embrace of same-sex blessings, each innovation has been justified as an act of compassion, yet each has been accompanied by a decline in faith and practice.

Church attendance in England has fallen below two percent of the population.⁶ Vocations are dwindling, doctrinal literacy collapsing, and parish life evaporating. The Church has made peace with the culture — and in doing so, lost its soul.

The Church of England now stands as a monument to a civilisation that has forgotten God. Its leaders quote the language of inclusion, but they speak with the accents of unbelief. What began as a Reformation seeking fidelity to Scripture has become a bureaucracy in thrall to the zeitgeist.

A Global Reckoning
The election of Sarah Mullally may prove a watershed moment — not for progress but for reformation from below. The Anglican Communion, long held together by sentiment, may now reorder itself around truth. In that sense, Canterbury’s collapse could be providential.

As the centre weakens, the peripheries strengthen. From Nigeria to Kenya, from India to the Philippines, new movements are forming — networks of clergy and laity determined to uphold the faith once delivered to the saints. They see in the decline of Western Christianity not a cause for despair but a call to renewal.

This moment thus exposes two churches within one communion: one that apologises for its creed, and one that proclaims it; one that worships the age, and one that worships God.

Conclusion: The Mitre of Empire
The enthronement of Sarah Mullally will be celebrated in Westminster as a sign of enlightenment. But for the faithful, it will be seen as the coronation of a new empire — not of kings, but of ideologies. The mitre has become the crown of conformity.

The See of Augustine, once the beacon of evangelisation, now stands as a cautionary monument: that when the Church ceases to serve Christ, it begins to serve Caesar; and when it seeks the approval of the world, it loses the grace to convert it.

Yet amid the ruins, the light of the Gospel still burns — not in the palaces of power, but in the chapels of the faithful; not in Canterbury, but in the cathedrals of Lagos, Kampala, and Kigali. There, the Church still kneels before God, not man.

And it is there, not in the fading splendour of England, that the future of Christendom is being written.

¹ Archbishop Henry C. Ndukuba, Church of Nigeria statement, quoted in Premier Christian News, “Sarah Mullally’s election to Archbishop of Canterbury described as ‘devastating’,” 16 Oct 2025.
² Christian Post, “Nigerian Anglican Communion rejects CoE’s direction with Mullally,” 7 Oct 2025.
³ Episcopal News Service, “Conservative Anglican archbishops object to new Archbishop of Canterbury as others celebrate her,” 7 Oct 2025.
⁴ Living Church, “Analysis: Church leaders respond to Mullally’s selection,” 8 Oct 2025.
⁵ Reuters, “Church of England bishops halt trial blessing services for gay couples,” 16 Oct 2025.
⁶ The Times, “Church attendance in England hits historic low,” 4 Oct 2025.
⁷ Giles Fraser, “US bishops have bent the knee to the will of the bully,” The Guardian, 26 Sep 2007.
⁸ Stephen Pritchard, “The Readers’ Editor on… what did the Nigerian bishop say about gay people?” The Observer, 6 Jun 2010.
⁹ Savitri Hensman, “The Anglican power play,” The Guardian, 30 Jun 2010.
¹⁰ “Statement by the Archbishop of Canterbury regarding comments by the Primate of Nigeria,” archbishopofcanterbury.org, 5 Mar 2021.
¹¹ Harriet Sherwood, “Justin Welby condemns Nigerian archbishop’s gay ‘virus’ comments,” The Guardian, 6 Mar 2021.
¹² “Archbishop Welby condemns Nigerian primate’s anti-gay language,” Church Times, 5 Mar 2021.
¹³ The Living Church, “Analysis: Church leaders respond to Mullally’s selection,” Oct 2025.
¹⁴ Associated Press, “Some Anglican bishops reject leader Welby over gay marriage,” 20 Feb 2023.
¹⁵ Episcopal News Service, “Conservative Anglican archbishops object to new Archbishop of Canterbury as others celebrate her,” 7 Oct 2025.