When martyrdom stops being metaphor
Published:Wednesday | January 21, 2026 | 12:06 AM
THE EDITOR, Madam:
The name Jonathan Daniels may not be widely remembered in the Caribbean, but it should be. His life and death speak directly to this moment – especially as silence, caution, and economic comfort increasingly replace moral courage in the face of threats to freedom and human dignity.
Daniels was a 26-year-old Episcopal seminarian from New Hampshire who, in the summer of 1965, chose to serve in Lowndes County, Alabama – deep in the racist Black Belt – rather than complete his studies in comfort. He tutored children, aided the poor, helped integrate a whites-only Episcopal church, and worked to register African Americans to vote. For this, he was arrested while peacefully protesting segregated businesses, jailed for six days in brutal conditions, and then released without transport.
On August 20, 1965, still wearing his clerical collar, Daniels crossed the street to buy a soda with three fellow protesters: a Catholic priest and two Black teenage girls. When an armed white man aimed a shotgun at 17-year-old Ruby Sales, Daniels pushed her aside and stepped in front of the gun. He was killed instantly. His murderer was acquitted by an all-white jury and later said he had no regrets.
The Episcopal Church later named Jonathan Daniels a Christian martyr. Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. called his death “one of the most heroic Christian deeds” he had witnessed.
This is not ancient history. It is a warning.
In recent days, senior Christian leaders in the United States – mainline, not fringe – have begun speaking openly of martyrdom and conscience. An Episcopal bishop urged clergy to prepare themselves spiritually and legally to stand between state power and the vulnerable. A Catholic archbishop affirmed that soldiers may morally refuse unlawful orders from an unstable presidency.
For the Caribbean, this matters profoundly. Our region knows the cost of imperial ambition, political recklessness, and economic coercion. Yet too often today, leaders – religious and political alike – choose quiet diplomacy over prophetic truth, trade moral clarity for access, and mistake comfort for safety.
Jonathan Daniels did not seek death. He sought faithfulness. He believed that the Gospel sometimes requires bodies, not statements; risk, not restraint.
Not everyone is called to martyrdom. But every society must decide whether it will honour courage – or reward silence.
The question before the Caribbean Church, and indeed Caribbean leadership, is whether we will recognise the warning signs of history repeating itself – or explain them away until it is too late.
History remembers those who stood.
It forgets those who stayed silent.
DUDLEY MCLEAN II