Kenya: A Reversal of Painful Gains

The grim picture of the reversal of democratic gains in Kenya following the last presidential elections, may well have been captured by two columnists in the January 6 East African Standard newspaper, who suggested that it was not only an unforeseen scenario, but one that could also prove to be a costly mistake for the country’s political arrangement.

However, I thought that their use of the adjective costly was ambivalent. Indeed, the lives lost in the last two weeks in the skirmishes between opposing sides, can never be replaced; the trauma that families and citizens will have to live with following the loss of life, will deny them the joy of life. Furthermore, the economy will need more than a miracle to stabilize, let alone move forward.

But, Kenya’s democratic gains have come painfully, a long way. It has weathered personal, regional and even elitist groups’ selfish interests to reach where it had reached before 27th December 2007. The fight for democratic gains has been costly; there are those like Prof. Mukaru Nganga who having been shunted away from their jobs because of their search for truth, died sad and broken men. Other names that come to mind are John Khaminwa, Martin Shikuku, Jean Marie Seroney, Mohammed Ibrahim, Raila Odinga, Gitobu Imanyara, Kenneth Matiba, and Charles Rubia, who had to be kept in detention for their fight for democracy.

What we are witnessing today looks like a re-play of a video or movie, which by its good beginning, promises a fabulous climax, but suddenly ends tragically.

In 1963, when Great Britain handed power to Jomo Kenyatta, there were, arguably two competing political parties (KANU and KADU). Indeed, there was even a Senate, and though KANU won with a majority, there was a likelihood that KADU and other smaller parties, would continue to play their role of keeping the government on its toes to ensure good governance was maintained.

However, short-term political expedience ensured that KADU and other political groups not only disbanded, but also gave Kenyatta a leeway to consolidate imperial powers, clamp down on dissent and preside over one of the most terrifying police regimes in Africa. When Moi took over in 1978, he wrong-footed the well-meaning Kenyans by making them believe that his would be a much more democratic government, with respect for human rights.

Within two years of settling in power Moi showed another side of his character, which was hitherto unknown. In 1982, parliament moved to legislate Kenya as a de-jure one party state. Between 1980 and 1990, the security apparatus brutally clamped down on dissent and criticism. Moi not only usurped the powers of the judiciary and the legislature, but also centralized, and personalized the presidency. In 1986 the security of tenure of the Attorney General, the Controller, and Auditor General were proscribed. He then assumed emergency powers to arrest and detain anyone perceived to be disloyal to him.

In a short while MPs and Ministers were reduced to impotent one-finger-waving demagogues. What followed was a comedy of the greatest absurdity; grown men fell over themselves trying to prove to Moi that they were unquestionably loyal to him.

It is instructive to suggest that barring donor aid freeze, pressure by civil bodies, International community, and individuals, Moi would have continued his misrule for much longer. At the height of his dictatorship in the late eighties to early nineties, Kenyans had been reduced to cynical complacency. But thanks to a tough stance by donor agencies, and pressure from Western countries, section 2(A) of the constitution was amended to allow for multiparty democracy.

However, concentrated power within the presidency ensured that the playing field was still tilted in favour of the person in power. The state-controlled electronic media still gave the incumbent most coverage, and when the opposition was ever mentioned, it was always in the negative. Thus, with the same constitution still in place, it was not surprising that Moi still won the election against a divided opposition in 1992, and 1997.

By the end of his term in 2001, however, some huge reforms had been made. An Inter-Party Parliamentary Group (IPPG) committee had been addressing issues relating to a free press, a new constitution geared towards devolution of power, and equal representation on key parliamentary committees. During Moi’s last term, for instance, the opposition headed the influential Public Accounts Committee. This and other crucial improvements ensured that some form of transparency and accountability was shown in government expenditure.

Other IPPG agreements included the proportional nomination of MPs to parliament according to party strength and numbers. This had been put in place after the 1997, when KANU got the majority nominations, and in 2002 when NARC had the lion’s share.

The period between 2003 and 2004, however, saw huge boulders being placed on the way of reforms. Government Ministers not only ensured that a new constitution was not enacted as promised by the new government, but even called for censorship of media, whose free reporting they suggested, bordered on the reckless. Signs that the political nirvana would be hard to come by had been noted earlier, when president Kibaki reneged on a Memoranda of Understanding that had promised power sharing among the National Alliance Rainbow Coalition.

When push finally came to shove on the issue of the new constitution, a referendum was called, and which the government lost by a huge margin. The die now cast, and the fairy tale NARC government irreparably divided, President Kibaki had to form a new government of national unity by bringing in opposition MPs. From then onwards, a beleaguered Kibaki was fighting for his political life with little or no reform agenda. Indeed, one of his hawkish Ministers went on record by saying that removing Moi from power had been the agenda, not changing the constitution.

As the campaigns for the last elections heated up, analysts noting the high stakes of the coming elections predicted the extent to which both the incumbent and the high profile opposition were prepared to go to ensure they achieved victory. Therefore, it came as no surprise to many that during the tense vote-counting at KICC, the government flexed its muscle by bringing in a large number of armed GSU paramilitary police within the precincts. It was clear to all, and sundry who must emerge the winner.

The rest is now history, as the country reels from the shock of waking up to the reality of a muzzled media, and the presence of police everywhere, as hawkish PNU Ministers keep on aiming provocative jabs at the ODM leadership.

Although we seem to be back to square one, as far as political reforms are concerned, the signs are that we are at a critical moment just before the dawn of the final liberation.