Whichever way you looked at it, the repeat presidential election in Kenya was bound to be problematic.
For
starters, there is the novelty of the experience, in that we had never
seen an African presidential election declared null and void by a court
of law. (Of course, we are used to declarations of null and void, but
these usually come from the losing candidates and their supporters).
The
annulment of the August 8 presidential election was an absolute first
for Africa, and the shockwaves it generated will continue to reverberate
around the continent over time.
Second, although the
presumed victor in the annulled election, President Uhuru Kenyatta, was
ambivalent about the court decision, at first seemingly accepting the
ruling with grace, he later shabbily lambasted Chief Justice David
Maraga who had presided over the judicial panel.
Third,
the August election was another episode in an epic saga of political
rivalry spanning two generations and pitting major ethnic formations
against one another.
The marathon tussle between the
Odingas and the Kenyattas is the stuff of legend, one that has
bedevilled Kenya’s politics to this day.
Then you have
the ethnicisation of politics (or is it the politicisation of
ethnicity?) that most Kenyan political (and other) operators swear by,
so that some people in the region will, sometimes wrongly, determine a
person’s politics from the sound of his/her name.
Lastly,
as every self-respecting African will tell you, elections are for
stealing, even when you know you can win without cheating. You have to
make “assurance double sure” just in case all the prognostics go awry.
Elections are not a matter of life and death; they are much more
important.
On the continent, as I have always pointed
out, losing an election is losing everything for you and your supporters
– your livelihood, your economic opportunities, everything. That is why
an African election becomes a be-all and end-all and why we Africans
predicate all on them every time they come around.
But
we know elections need not be so important, that there is life after
every election, because we know there has been life after every one of
them. Kenyans surely know that there was life after every one election
that they have had, even after 2007, which looked like a cataclysm, but
which, after all was said and done, came and went, and Kenya was still
there.
I think that is what matters most. It would be
silly to pretend that all is well, because it is not. Every time an
exercise like the one Kenya has just gone through happens, someone gets
hurt, and something goes wrong. But that cannot be the end of
everything. Lessons are garnered and experiences accumulated.
It
would be insensitive to wish another 2007-08 on the Kenyan people,
because that was a horror story that we all lived in technicolor, but it
would be stupid not to acknowledge the invaluable lessons from that
grim drama. Kenya emerged from that tragedy with greater maturity,
having been forged in the furnace of the fury unleashed by that other
botched election.
It is all very well to bemoan the
divisiveness of the ethnic mosaic that informs Kenya’s politics. We have
too often heard people talk of the infamous “tyranny of numbers” and we
have thrown our hands in the air, saying that there is nothing to cure
Kenya of its “tribal” politics.
But I would like to
offer a thought to those who dare take it: If 2007-08 meant, largely,
that two major ethnic formations were at each other’s throats, causing
the death of more than a thousand people, and if it is true that those
two ethnic groups find themselves today on the same side of the
barricade, does this not mean that a certain reconciliation, however
delicate, has been reached?
It is interesting to note
that the tyranny of numbers is progressively informing all involved in
the electoral processes in Kenya. Everyone is busy massing up the votes
on tribal lines, roping in the principal shakers and movers in every
major ethnic stronghold.
That may look like a backward
and primitive system, but I have read some English history, and I know
that was exactly the way England was built. In the English narrative,
many bloody battles were fought and many changing alliances forged and
re-forged.
The incurable optimist in me tells me we are probably witnessing the crafting of such formations in Kenya.
Jenerali
Ulimwengu is chairman of the board of the Raia Mwema newspaper and an
advocate of the High Court in Dar es Salaam. E-mail: ulimwengu@jenerali.com
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