The much anticipated ruling of Malawi’s Constitutional Court was somberly delivered to an anxious, tense, and polarised nation on February 3, 2020. In a unanimous decision, the court nullified the hotly contested and rigged presidential election of May 21, 2019. It was a brilliant legal victory for the opposition parties, and a profound political watershed for the country.
The level of public anticipation and apprehension was so high that in many parts of the country businesses, schools, offices, and public transport were closed or suspended. It felt like a national holiday. Like millions of spellbound Malawians at home and in the diaspora, I was glued to the radio. It made watching the impeachment trial of President Trump in the US Senate – where the Republicans, save for two, refused to allow additional witnesses and documents – seem farcical in comparison. So much for mature and emerging democracies!
In a lengthy judgement comprising more than 500 pages, but summarised in a proceeding that was broadcast live to an anxious nation, the court noted that it was alive to the enormous importance of the case given that this is the first time in the country’s history that a presidential election has been subjected to a court dispute and ruling. The court stressed that the Constitution calls for an open, transparent and accountable government through the democratic choice exercised by its citizens. The right to vote is guaranteed and entrenched in the Constitution under the Bill of Rights.
It affirmed that elections must be managed with all due diligence and integrity, and conducted in a fair and transparent manner. Clearly, this was not the case with the May 21 presidential election. In more than ten hours of reading the summary judgement, the court systematically demolished the arguments of the respondents. There was substantial compromise of citizens’ voting rights and the principles and processes of free and fair elections. The magnitude of the irregularities and anomalies were so widespread, systematic and grave that the results were compromised, and could not be trusted as a true reflection of the will of the voters.
In a meticulous and masterly exhibition of jurisprudence and judgement, the judges painstakingly outlined and analysed all the issues in contention and the applicable laws, and interrogated relevant legal precedents from other countries. The defence of the respondents against the charges of the petitioners was left in tatters. They lost on the important issues of proof in an election case and the processes of election management. The court found the Malawi Electoral Commission (MEC) committed multiple breaches against several pertinent sections of the Constitution, and even created illegal processes, thereby raising serious doubts about the validity of the election results. In its ruling, the court called for the appointment of new officers for the commission.
On May 27, 2019, the deeply compromised Electoral Commission had declared the incumbent, Professor Peter Arthur Mutharika of the ruling Democratic People’s Party (DPP), the winner, with 38.57% of the popular vote, against 35.41% garnered by Dr. Lazarus Chakwera of the Malawi Congress Party (MCP), the age-old independence party, and 20.24% for Dr. Saulos Chilima of the insurgent United Transformation Party (UTM) formed in 2018 by the country’s former Vice President. The rest was shared by four other minor candidates.
The court found the Malawi Electoral Commission (MEC) committed multiple breaches against several pertinent sections of the Constitution, and even created illegal processes, thereby raising serious doubts about the validity of the election results.
The results provoked angry nationwide protests led by the followers of the two main opposition parties and civil society organisations, most notably the Human Rights Defenders Coalition, which paralysed the major cities in the months that followed. The protesters accused the DPP and MEC led by Dr. Jane Ansah of gross electoral fraud. They called for the ouster of President Mutharika and Dr. Ansah, the latter under the #AnsahMustFall campaign, and demanded fresh elections. DPP supporters responded with counter-demonstrations, state-sanctioned intimidation, and support rallies for the beleaguered Chair of MEC led by women functionaries of the regime. Sporadic violence broke out in several areas.
The country was on fire, staring at the abyss of ungovernability. Public order virtually collapsed in some parts of the country as the discredited police lost their credibility and authority. Even the president could no longer travel freely to many parts of the country outside his ethnic laager, including the capital, Lilongwe, without a convoy of heavily armed military vehicles. The popularity of the Malawi Defence Force rose, and a few misguided elements even seemed to yearn for the dangerous respite of a military coup. Predictably, businesses and the economy were shuttered.
The other institution in which the disaffected and inflamed masses placed their political desires and demands for electoral justice was the judiciary. Within a week after the general elections were held, the two opposition parties filed separate petitions with the High Court for the nullification of the presidential elections over alleged irregularities and mismanagement of the electoral system.
The odour of electoral malfeasance began days after the election as stories of rigging started circulating, buttressed by delays in announcing the results. Soon a new word entered Malawi’s political vocabulary: Tip-ex, a correction fluid used to alter vote results sheets. The elections were Tip-exed, Mutharika was Tip-Ex president. The overwrought social media went into overdrive. On May 25, UTM called for nullification of the election, while the DPP requested the immediate release of the election results, and MCP applied for a judicial review of the presidential election results from several districts and constituencies.
MEC proceeded first to release the results of the parliamentary election, and briefly withheld results of the presidential vote for a few more days, which raised much suspicion. The influential and quasi-religious body, Public Affairs Committee (PAC), issued a press statement on May 30, 2019, stating categorically that the elections lacked credibility. The next day, on May 31, the two main opposition parties filed separate election cases, which were consolidated by the High Court four days later because they were similar.
Efforts by lawyers for the Electoral Commission and the ruling party first to dismiss the case and later to extend the time for disclosures of documents and information by the 2nd respondent (Malawi Electoral Commission) to the 2nd petitioner (Lazarus Chakwera of MCP) were curtailed. The case was referred to select High Court judges sitting as a Constitutional Court (such a court doesn’t exist as a separate entity). The court also dismissed several applications by the Attorney General in August and September for sanctions and an injunction against political demonstrations.
The drama continues
Thus began the months-long election case that was broadcast live and transfixed the troubled nation. The hearing of the case commenced on August 8 and ended on December 20, 2019. The hearings lasted 61 days and, according to the Constitution, judgement had to be rendered within 45 days. February 3, 2020 marks the 45th day. The court hearings, with all their gravity and levity, enraptured the population as no other event since the transition from one-party dictatorship to multiparty democracy in the early 1990s. It raised national awareness about election laws and processes, and democratic rights and responsibilities. The country’s crass and corrupt ruling cabal was exposed for all its impunity, iniquity, and ineptitude.
Some lawyers and pundits were applauded; others damaged their reputations for their mediocrity and mendacity. Similarly, some witnesses were celebrated and others were ridiculed into ignominy. The latter included an insufferably arrogant cabinet minister who flaunted a fake doctorate degree (an unearned accolade so beloved by African elites), but couldn’t mention his alma mater, a term he didn’t seem to know! In the meantime, large demonstrations and counter-demonstrations continued.
The country seemed to be spiralling out of control and the acrimony between the ruling and opposition parties intensified. PAC called for dialogue on the electoral stalemate to no avail. Appeals for an open and inclusive dialogue by the foreign diplomatic missions of Germany, Ireland, Japan, Norway, the United Kingdom, and the United States also proved ineffectual.
The court hearings systematically revealed blatant manipulation and mismanagement of the electoral process and system. The submissions by the lawyers of the opposition parties vigorously argued that the Electoral Commission had breached its duty and infringed on the petitioners’ and citizens’ political rights under various sections of the Constitution. They concluded; “The irregularity and fraud in the elections were substantial and significant that they affected the integrity of the elections.”
The country seemed to be spiralling out of control and the acrimony between the ruling and opposition parties intensified. PAC called for dialogue on the electoral stalemate to no avail.
The petitioners sought nullification of the presidential election of May 21, 2019 and the declaration of Peter Mutharika as president-elect as invalid, null and void. In their lengthy submissions, the respondents accused the petitioners of relying on hearsay evidence, and claimed “there were no irregularities or other factors that beset the election and that even if any were there, they did not affect the result of the election.” They requested dismissal of the petitions with costs.
In January 2020, the drama continued as the nation eagerly awaited the ruling of the Constitutional Court. Two particular events caught public attention and wrath. One was a visit by the European Union’s election observation mission. They announced plans to release their report on the May 21 election, which was met with outrage by the opposition parties, civil society, and the general public; the EU team was forced into a hasty retreat.
The second was a shocking leak in mid-January 2020. It was reported that on November 28, 2019, the Chief Justice had lodged a formal complaint with the Anti-Corruption Bureau (ACB) about a bribery attempt targeting the judges hearing the case for the nullification of the presidential election. On January 22, the ACB ordered the arrest of Mr. Thom Mpinganjira, a leading business tycoon. But later that same night, Mr. Mpinganjira’s lawyers managed to get an order from a magistrate in another city quashing the arrest warrant. Several days later, on January 28, a High Court judge ordered the re-arrest of Mr. Mpinganjira, and called for disciplinary action to be taken against the errant magistrate and lawyer. The case underscored both the rot and rectitude of the country’s besieged judicial system.
Pivotal moments in Malawi’s history
As February 3, 2020 approached, everyone wondered which face of the courts would show up. There are few dates in any nation’s history that mark pivotal moments. In Malawi’s history they include February 3, 1915, when the leader of the first major uprising against colonial rule, John Chilembwe, an American-educated Baptist pastor, was killed. Chilembwe Day is commemorated every January 15. Another key date is March 3, 1957, the day the British colonial government declared a state of emergency to quell nationalist agitation by arresting leading nationalists, which provoked more protests. The day is marked as a national holiday called Martyrs’ Day in honour of nationalist heroes who sacrificed their lives in the protracted struggle for decolonization.
Then there is of course July 6, Malawi’s Independence Day. In the postcolonial era, June 14, 1993, marks a significant day when a referendum was held to abolish President Banda’s ruthless MCP dictatorship and introduce multiparty democracy. The referendum was approved by nearly 65% of the voters. My parents’ generation had fought for the “first independence”; mine was at the forefront of the “second independence”. In recognition of my own role in the democratic struggle, the opposition party, the United Democratic Front appointed me Shadow Minister, but I turned down a Cabinet appointment when the party won the elections in May 1994. Unfortunately, my initial misgivings about the leadership and integrity of President Bakili Muluzi’s ten-year corrupt and lacklustre administration were borne out.
A day of infamy in Malawi’s political trajectory under the “Second Republic” is July 20, 2011, when nationwide protests broke out against economic mismanagement and creeping political authoritarianism by the DPP government led by President Bingu wa Mutharika, the elder brother of the current president. The draconian crackdown against the demonstrations over the next several days resulted in nearly 20 people killed and another 58 injured and up to 275 arrested. The country was shaken to its knees. The hapless president never regained his political footing, and less than a year later, on April 5, 2012, he died of a heart attack at the age of 78.
The landmark verdict nullifying the presidential election will mark February 3, 2020 as another milestone in the history of this incredibly beautiful, but badly governed, and desperately poor country. One of Malawi’s most renowned intellectuals, Thandika Mkandawire, noted for his caustic wit, told a Malawian friend that visiting Nairobi in December 2019 served as a grim reminder of Malawi’s lost fifty years of independence; much as one might find visiting the Asian economic tigers a sobering testimony to Africa’s lost years of independence.
The Kenya case
Malawi follows Kenya, where on September 1, 2017, the Supreme Court annulled the country’s presidential election held on August 8, 2017. In fact, in its judgement, the Malawi Constitutional Court frequently referred to the Kenya case. Cancelling presidential elections is extremely rare given the high levels of substantiality of evidence required in such cases. Thus Malawi has joined an exclusive club of world democracies. Annulment of an election represents a grave indictment of the electoral body. The Constitutional Court was unsparing in castigating the Malawi Electoral Commission for its incompetent and improper management of the entire presidential election process.
The court called for fresh elections within 150 days. The offices of the President and Vice President were returned to the status quo before the May 21 election, thereby reinstating Vice President Chilima and retaining President Mutharika till new elections. Parliament was urged to meet within 21 days to pass legislation on new presidential, parliamentary, and local elections and maintain the principle of concurrent tripartite elections every 5 years.
Malawi follows Kenya, where on September 1, 2017, the Supreme Court annulled the country’s presidential election held on August 8, 2017. In fact, in its judgement, the Malawi Constitutional Court frequently referred to the Kenya case.
As happened in Kenya after the presidential election was annulled on September 1, 2017, the annulment in Malawi will be greeted with jubilation by the leaders and followers of the opposition parties, and with trepidation by those affiliated to the ruling party, including some professionals and former activists who sold their souls for tarnished pieces of silver. In the days leading to the Constitutional Court ruling, political and religious leaders, the security services, foreign diplomatic missions, as well as the United Nations and the African Union, appealed for calm and urged citizens to accept the court’s decision.
One hopes President Mutharika will try to salvage his tattered reputation by gracefully accepting the court decision, as his predecessors, President Banda did when he lost the 1993 referendum, and President Muluzi lost an ill-guided attempt at a third term.
As became evident in Kenya, annulling a presidential election does not guarantee a smooth re-election process. In fact, the opposition in Kenya proceeded to boycott the repeat election in October, which led the incumbent, President Uhuru Kenyatta, to cruise to victory unopposed. This is unlikely to happen in Malawi. In fact, what might be in question is not whether the main contending parties will contest the fresh presidential election, but how. Will the opposition parties proceed separately as before or form an electoral alliance to fight the fresh election?
In its ruling, the Constitutional Court found that no candidate in the May 21, 2019 presidential election had secured a majority and proclaimed that from the next election only a candidate who secured 50+1 would be deemed elected as President. Parliament was asked to make the necessary amendments to the electoral law. In 2017 the DPP, supported by a minority party, had blocked the Presidential, Parliamentary and Local Government Amendments Bill that would have allowed a 50+1 electoral system.
The court ruling might facilitate much-needed political realignment. The two leading parties, UTM and MCP, must seriously pursue forming a possible coalition to beat the DPP and any coalition it might cobble together. Malawi cannot afford to mortgage its future to the DPP, a party that has degenerated into an incompetent, sleazy, tribalistic, nepotistic, and kleptocratic cabal. Creating meaningful and durable political coalitions require statesmanship and compromise that is quite rare among politicians.
Malawi has been offered a historic opportunity to reclaim its future, to change direction and to fulfill the dreams of millions of its people who fought for the “second independence”. The opposition parties and politicians who succeeded in nullifying the presidential election must not seek to become a reincarnation of the discredited DPP regime, greedily awaiting their chance to “eat” from the paltry state coffers. They owe it to history, and to the past, current and future generations of citizens of this aggrieved country to pursue and realise persistent yearnings for an inclusive, integrated, innovative and sustainable democratic developmental state and society.
As we’ve learned from development studies and histories and economies of some Asian countries, creating such a state and society is not a mystery: it is not a matter of ethnicity or race or nationality, neither is it dictated by the peculiarities of culture or the imagined genius of a particular civilization, let alone the endowments of natural resources. Rather, it is determined by the quality of institutions and leadership, the development of human capital, and the prevalence of the social capital of trust. The future will centre on confronting many challenges and seizing new opportunities. Two stand out.
First, there is need to undertake profound political reforms, including of the electoral system. There are, of course, many other electoral systems, including single member or multi-member constituencies under which there are several variants; they can also be complemented by majoritarian or proportional or mixed majoritarian and proportional features. Malawi must introduce an electoral system that best promotes proportionality of seats to votes, accountability to constituents, inter-ethnic and inter-religious conciliation, and minority office holding. The decentralisation and devolution of power from a highly centralised presidency should also be on the table.
The newly empowered masses must maintain pressure on the politicians to embrace the politics of policy differences rather than that of ethnic chauvinism and personal self-aggrandizement. They must resist the self-serving machinations and shenanigans of the political class. As we have learned in African studies and from the rise of contemporary political populisms around the world, ethnicity (or race), overlaid by all manner of regionalisms, is often a more powerful predictor of political loyalties and voting behavior than class and social interests.
But ethnicity itself is a complex phenomenon. “Moral ethnicity” differs from “political ethnicity”. The former represents a complex web of social obligations and belonging, while the latter reflects the competitive confrontation of “ethnic contenders and constituencies” for state power and national resources. As I wrote elsewhere, “Both are socially constructed, but one as an identity, the other as an ideology. Ethnicity may serve as a cultural public for the masses estranged from the civic public of the elites, a sanctuary that extends its comforts and protective tentacles to the victims of political disenfranchisement, economic impoverishment, state terror and group rivalry. In other words, it is not the existence of ethnic groups (or racial groups) that is a problem in itself, a predictor of social conviviality or conflict, but their political mobilisation.” This is the struggle Malawians committed to a more inclusive future must fight.
Malawi’s current first-past-the-post or winner-take-all system is one of the root causes of political instability. It facilitates minority presidencies. Since the dawn of multiparty democracy in 1994, there have been six elections. Only in two of these did the elected president garner more than half the votes of the electorate (1994–Bakili Muluzi 46.15%; 1999–Bakili Muluzi 52.34%; 2004 Bingu wa Mutharika 35.97%; 2009 Bingu wa Mutharika 66.17%; 2014 Peter Arthur Mutharika 36.4%; 2019 Peter Arthur Mutharika 38.57%).
The newly empowered masses must maintain pressure on the politicians to embrace the politics of policy differences rather than that of ethnic chauvinism and personal self-aggrandizement. They must resist the self-serving machinations and shenanigans of the political class
Incidentally, it is the first-past-the-post system that allowed the election of President Donald Trump, who lost the popular vote to Senator Hilary Clinton by a margin of 2,868,686. Similarly, commenting on Brexit a day after Britain left the European Union, a British journalist wrote in The Guardian: “How did a matter of such momentous constitutional, economic and cultural consequence come to be settled by a first-past-the-post vote and not by a super-majority?…There is much that is historically unjust about the British state, but very little of that injustice derives from the EU…It was the task of the Brexit campaign to persuade the electorate otherwise. In the referendum they succeeded with 37%, enough to transform our collective fate for a generation at least.”
Second, the awakened citizenry must force the political class to attend to the country’s tenacious crises of mass poverty, low economic growth, and rising inequalities. There is a pressing need for strategic and sustainable interventions in the traditional primary, secondary, and tertiary sectors, and what some call the quaternary sector or the knowledge sector comprising high quality education and training, research and development, and the advancement of science, technology and innovation.
In short, a future democratic government will need to focus steadfastly on economic growth and transformation by overcoming the country’s enduring legacies of underdevelopment as it simultaneously embraces, even if belatedly, the unrealised potentialities of the old industrial revolutions and the possibilities of the fourth industrial revolution. At stake is the need to raise the country’s human development index by ensuring the provision of what the United Nations Development Programme calls basic capabilities while moving towards enhanced capabilities. Especially critical is reducing power imbalances and gender inequalities, as well as promoting youth employability and decent work.
Malawi’s development deficits are glaring indeed, ranging from persistent poverty among the rural and urban masses, to poor physical and social infrastructure, abysmally low levels of education at all levels, and extensive unemployment and underemployment. Each time I visit the country, I am struck by how little the cities where I grew up in the 1960s and 1970s have changed. I joke to my relatives and friends that I cannot get lost in Lilongwe, Blantyre, or Zomba, although I left the country 43 years ago! When I visited last December, together with my family, including my son and his fiancée, it was disconcerting to see that the primary and secondary schools I attended look so dilapidated; they are depressing and pale replicas of the fine institutions I attended.
Thus, getting the politics right is only a prelude to getting the economics right for the well-being and dignity of Malawian citizens. The good news from the ruling of the Constitutional Court annulling the presidential election is that an indispensable first step has been taken. This day will be remembered as a turning point in the country’s tortured political history. Perhaps it will be known as Constitutional Democracy Day.
One of my relatives, a young, bright and highly educated professional, said the whole saga had left her proud to be a Malawian. This is a moment of reckoning for the country, she said, when Malawians became active citizens, abandoning the docility of bystanders in the political game created, controlled and manipulated by self-serving, cynical, corrupt and crafty politicians. Her fervent hope is that the citizenry, now informed and inspired by their active involvement in a signal political event, will not retreat to the political sidelines as passive observers. That, too, is my hope and the hope of many in this land of the lake, the Warm Heart of Africa, to use the country’s much beloved national moniker.
Support The Elephant.
The Elephant is helping to build a truly public platform, while producing consistent, quality investigations, opinions and analysis. The Elephant cannot survive and grow without your participation. Now, more than ever, it is vital for The Elephant to reach as many people as possible.
Your support helps protect The Elephant's independence and it means we can continue keeping the democratic space free, open and robust. Every contribution, however big or small, is so valuable for our collective future.
Who Won Kenya’s “Nominations”?
Being nominated rather than selected by party members may undermine grass-roots legitimacy but it is hard not to suspect that some of the losers in the nominations process might feel a little bit relieved at this out-turn.
Who won Kenya’s “nominations”, the tense and often unpredictable political process through which parties select which candidates they want to represent them in the general election scheduled for 9 August? That may sound like a silly question. Social media is full of photographs of smiling candidate clutching their certificates of nomination—surely we need to look no further for the winners?
But maybe we do. Beyond the individual candidates in the contests for nominations, there are other winners. One may be obvious: it seems the general feeling is that Deputy President William Ruto came out better from the nominations than did his principal rival in the presidential race, former opposition leader Raila Odinga—about which more below. However, for some, coming out on top in the nominations may prove a poisoned chalice. Where nominations are seen to have been illegitimate, candidates are likely to find that losing rivals who stand as independents may be locally popular and may gain sympathy votes, making it harder for party candidates to win the general election. This means that there are often some less obvious winners and losers.
One reason for this is that nominations shape how voters think about the parties and who they want to give their vote to, come the general election. Research that we conducted in 2017, including a nationally representative survey of public opinion on these issues, found that citizens who felt that their party’s nomination process had not been legitimate were less likely to say that they would vote in the general election. In other words, disputed and controversial nomination processes can encourage voters to stay away from the general election, making it harder for leaders to get their vote out. In 2017, this appeared to disadvantage Odinga and his Orange Democratic Movement (ODM), whose nomination process was generally seen to have been more problematic—although whether this is because they were, or rather because this is how they were depicted by the media, is hard to say.
In the context of a tight election in 2022, popular perceptions of how the nominations were managed may therefore be as significant for who “wins” and “loses” as the question of which individuals secured the party ticket.
Why do parties dread nominations?
The major parties dreaded the nominations process—dreaded it so much, in fact, that despite all their bold words early on about democracy and the popular choice (and despite investments in digital technology and polling staff), most of the parties tried pretty hard to avoid primary elections as a way of deciding on their candidates. In some cases that avoidance was complete: the Jubilee party gave direct nominations to all those who will stand in its name. Other parties held some primaries—Ruto’s United Democratic Alliance (UDA) seems to have managed most—but in many cases they turned to other methods.
That is because of a complicated thing about parties and elections in Kenya. It is widely assumed—and a recent opinion poll commissioned by South Consulting confirms this—that when it comes to 9 August most voters will decide how to cast their ballot on the basis of individual candidates and not which party they are standing for. Political parties in Kenya are often ephemeral, and people readily move from one to another. But that does not mean that political parties are irrelevant. They are symbolic markers with emotive associations – sometimes to particular ideas, sometimes to a particular regional base. ODM, for example, has been linked both with a commitment to constitutional reform and with the Luo community, most notably in Nyanza. So the local politician who wants to be a member of a county assembly will be relying mostly on their personal influence and popularity—but they know that if they get a nomination for a party which has that kind of emotive association, it will smoothen their path.
Disputed and controversial nomination processes can encourage voters to stay away from the general election, making it harder for leaders to get their vote out.
This means that multiple candidates vie for each possible nomination slot. In the past, that competition has always been expensive, as rival aspirants wooed voters with gifts. It occasionally turned violent, and often involved cheating. Primary elections in 2013 and 2017 were messy and chaotic, and were not certain to result in the selection of the candidate most likely to win the general election. From the point of view of the presidential candidates, there are real risks to the primary elections their parties or coalitions oversee: the reputational damage due to chaos and the awareness that local support might be lost if a disgruntled aspirant turns against the party.
This helps to explain why in 2022 many parties made use of direct nominations—variously dressed up as the operation of consensus or the result of mysterious “opinion polls” to identify the strongest candidate. What that really meant was an intensive process of promise-making and/or pressure to persuade some candidates to stand down. Where that did not work, and primaries still took place, the promise-making and bullying came afterwards—to stop disappointed aspirants from turning against the party and standing as independents. The consequence of all that top-down management was that the nominations saw much less open violence than in previous years.
So who won, and who lost, at the national level?
Despite all the back-room deal-making, top-down political management was not especially successful in soothing the feelings of those who did not come out holding certificates. That brings us to the big national winners and losers of the process. Odinga—and his ODM party—have come out rather bruised. They have been accused of nepotism, bribery and of ignoring local wishes. This is a particularly dangerous accusation for Odinga, as it plays into popular concerns that, following his “handshake” with President Kenyatta and his adoption as the candidate of the “establishment”, he is a “project” of wealthy and powerful individuals who wish to retain power through the backdoor after Kenyatta stands down having served two-terms in office. In the face of well-publicised claims that Odinga would be a “remote controlled president” doing the bidding of the Kenyatta family and their allies, the impression that the nominations were stage-managed from on high in an undemocratic process was the last thing Azimio needed.
Moreover, perhaps because Odinga seems to have been less active than his rival in personally intervening to mollify aggrieved local politicians, the ODM nominations process seems to have left more of a mess. That was compounded by complications in the Azimio la Umoja/One Kenya Alliance Coalition Party (we’ll call it Azimio from now on, for convenience). Where Azimio “zoned”—that is, agreed on a single candidate from all its constituent parties—disappointed aspirants complained. Where it did not zone, and agreed to let each party nominate its own candidate for governor, MP and so on, then smaller parties in the coalition complained that they would face unfair competition come the general election. That is why the leaders of some of these smaller groups such as Machakos Governor Alfred Mutua made dramatic (or theatrical, depending on your view) announcements of their decision to leave Azimio and support Ruto.
Despite all the back-room deal-making, top-down political management was not especially successful in soothing the feelings of those who did not come out holding certificates.
So Ruto looks like a nomination winner. But his success comes with a big price tag. His interventions to placate disgruntled aspirants involved more than soothing words. A new government will have lots of goodies to distribute to supporters—positions in the civil service and parastatals, diplomatic roles, not to mention business opportunities of many kinds. But the bag of goodies is not bottomless, and it seems likely that a lot of promises have been made. Ruto’s undoubted talents as an organizer and deal-maker have been useful to him through the nominations—but those deals may prove expensive for him, and for Kenya, if he wins the presidential poll.
Money, politics, and the cost of campaigns
Those who “won” by being directly nominated to their desired positions may also come to see this process as something of a double-edged sword. In the short term, many of them will have saved considerable money: depending on exactly when the deal was done, they will have been spared some days of campaign expenses—no need to fuel cars, buy airtime for bloggers, pay for t-shirts and posters, and hand out cash. But that will be a brief respite. The disappointed rivals who have gone independent will make the campaigns harder for them—and likely more expensive. The belief that they were favoured by the party machinery may mean that voter expectations are higher when it comes to handouts and donations on the campaign trail. And the fact they were nominated rather than selected by party members may undermine their grass-roots legitimacy.
Others may experience a similar delayed effect. Among the short-term losers of the nominations will have been some of the “goons” who have played a prominent physical role in previous nominations: their muscular services were largely not required (although there were exceptions). The printers of posters and t-shirts will similarly have seen a disappointing nominations period (although surely they will have received enough early orders to keep them happy, especially where uncertainty over the nomination was very prolonged). The providers of billboard advertising may have seen a little less demand than they had hoped for, although they too seem to have done quite well from selling space to aspirants who—willingly or not—did not make it to the primaries. But where the general election will be fiercely contested, entrepreneurs will likely make up any lost ground as the campaigns get going. In these cases, competition has been postponed, not avoided.
Those in less competitive wards, constituencies or counties—the kind in which one party tends to dominate in the general election—are unlikely to be able to make up for lost time. These “one-party” areas may be in shorter supply in 2022 than in the past, due to the way that the control of specific leaders and alliances over the country’s former provinces has fragmented, but there will still be some races in which it is obvious who will win, and so the campaigns will be less heated.
Those who “won” by being directly nominated to their desired positions may also come to see this process as something of a double-edged sword.
More definite losers are the parties themselves. In some ways, we could say they did well as institutions, because they were spared the embarrassment of violent primaries. But the settling of many nominations without primaries meant not collecting nomination fees from aspirants in some cases, and refunding them in others. That will have cost parties a chunk of money, which they won’t get back. That may not affect the campaigns much—the money for campaigns flows in opaque and complex ways that may not touch the parties themselves. But it will affect the finances of the parties as organizations, which are often more than a little fragile.
Are the losers actually the biggest winners?
Some losers, however, are really big winners. Think about those candidates who would not have won competitive primaries but were strong enough to be able to credibly complain that they had been hard done by due to the decision to select a rival in a direct process. In many cases, these individuals were able to extract considerable concessions in return for the promise not to contest as independents, and so disrupt their coalition’s best laid plans. This means that many of the losers—who may well have been defeated anyway—walked away with the promise of a post-election reward without the expense and bother of having to campaign up until the polls.
It is hard not to suspect that some of them might feel a little bit relieved at this out-turn. In fact, some of them may have been aiming at this all along. For those with limited resources and uncertain prospects at the ballot, the opportunity to stand down in favour of another candidate may have been pretty welcome. Instead of spending the next three months in an exhausting round of funerals, fund-raisers and rallies, constantly worrying about whether they have enough fifty (or larger) shilling notes to hand out and avoiding answering their phones, they can sit back and wait for their parastatal appointment, ambassadorship, or business opportunity.
For those with limited resources and uncertain prospects at the ballot, the opportunity to stand down in favour of another candidate may have been pretty welcome.
For these individuals, the biggest worry now is not their popularity or campaign, but simply the risk that their coalition might not win the presidential election, rendering the promises they have received worthless. Those whose wishes come true will be considerably more fortunate—and financially better off—than their colleagues who made it through the nominations but fall at the final hurdle of the general election.
Separating the winners of the nominations process from the losers may therefore be harder than it seems.
Asylum Pact: Rwanda Must Do Some Political Housecleaning
Rwandans are welcoming, but the government’s priority must be to solve the internal political problems which produce refugees.
The governments of the United Kingdom and Rwanda have signed an agreement to move asylum seekers from the UK to Rwanda for processing. This partnership has been heavily criticized and has been referred to as unethical and inhumane. It has also been opposed by the United Nations Refugee Agency on the grounds that it is contrary to the spirit of the Refugee Convention.
Here in Rwanda, we heard the news of the partnership on the day it was signed. The subject has never been debated in the Rwandan parliament and neither had it been canvassed in the local media prior to the announcement.
According to the government’s official press release, the partnership reflects Rwanda’s commitment to protect vulnerable people around the world. It is argued that by relocating migrants to Rwanda, their dignity and rights will be respected and they will be provided with a range of opportunities, including for personal development and employment, in a country that has consistently been ranked among the safest in the world.
A considerable number of Rwandans have been refugees and therefore understand the struggle that comes with being an asylum seeker and what it means to receive help from host countries to rebuild lives. Therefore, most Rwandans are sensitive to the plight of those forced to leave their home countries and would be more than willing to make them feel welcome. However, the decision to relocate the migrants to Rwanda raises a number of questions.
The government argues that relocating migrants to Rwanda will address the inequalities in opportunity that push economic migrants to leave their homes. It is not clear how this will work considering that Rwanda is already the most unequal country in the East African region. And while it is indeed seen as among the safest countries in the world, it was however ranked among the bottom five globally in the recently released 2022 World Happiness Index. How would migrants, who may have suffered psychological trauma fare in such an environment, and in a country that is still rebuilding itself?
A considerable number of Rwandans have been refugees and therefore understand the struggle that comes with being an asylum seeker and what it means to receive help from host countries to rebuild lives.
What opportunities can Rwanda provide to the migrants? Between 2018—the year the index was first published—and 2020, Rwanda’s ranking on the Human Capital Index (HCI) has been consistently low. Published by the World Bank, HCI measures which countries are best at mobilising the economic and professional potential of their citizens. Rwanda’s score is lower than the average for sub-Saharan Africa and it is partly due to this that the government had found it difficult to attract private investment that would create significant levels of employment prior to the COVID-19 pandemic. Unemployment, particularly among the youth, has since worsened.
Despite the accolades Rwanda has received internationally for its development record, Rwanda’s economy has never been driven by a dynamic private or trade sector; it has been driven by aid. The country’s debt reached 73 per cent of GDP in 2021 while its economy has not developed the key areas needed to achieve and secure genuine social and economic transformation for its entire population. In addition to human capital development, these include social capital development, especially mutual trust among citizens considering the country’s unfortunate historical past, establishing good relations with neighbouring states, respect for human rights, and guaranteeing the accountability of public officials.
Rwanda aspires to become an upper middle-income country by 2035 and a high-income country by 2050. In 2000, the country launched a development plan that aimed to transform it into a middle-income country by 2020 on the back on a knowledge economy. That development plan, which has received financial support from various development partners including the UK which contributed over £1 billion, did not deliver the anticipated outcomes. Today the country remains stuck in the category of low-income states. Its structural constraints as a small land-locked country with few natural resources are often cited as an obstacle to development. However, this is exacerbated by current governance in Rwanda, which limits the political space, lacks separation of powers, impedes freedom of expression and represses government critics, making it even harder for Rwanda to reach the desired developmental goals.
Rwanda’s structural constraints as a small land-locked country with no natural resources are often viewed as an obstacle to achieving the anticipated development.
As a result of the foregoing, Rwanda has been producing its own share of refugees, who have sought political and economic asylum in other countries. The UK alone took in 250 Rwandese last year. There are others around the world, the majority of whom have found refuge in different countries in Africa, including countries neighbouring Rwanda. The presence of these refugees has been a source of tension in the region with Kigali accusing neighbouring states of supporting those who want to overthrow the government by force. Some Rwandans have indeed taken up armed struggle, a situation that, if not resolved, threatens long-term security in Rwanda and the Great Lakes region. In fact, the UK government’s advice on travel to Rwanda has consistently warned of the unstable security situation near the border with the Democratic Republic of Congo (DRC) and Burundi.
While Rwanda’s intention to help address the global imbalance of opportunity that fuels illegal immigration is laudable, I would recommend that charity start at home. As host of the 26th Commonwealth Heads of Government Meeting scheduled for June 2022, and Commonwealth Chair-in-Office for the next two years, the government should seize the opportunity to implement the core values and principles of the Commonwealth, particularly the promotion of democracy, the rule of law, freedom of expression, political and civil rights, and a vibrant civil society. This would enable Rwanda to address its internal social, economic and political challenges, creating a conducive environment for long-term economic development, and durable peace that will not only stop Rwanda from producing refugees but will also render the country ready and capable of economically and socially integrating refugees from less fortunate countries in the future.
Beyond Borders: Why We Need a Truly Internationalist Climate Justice Movement
The elite’s ‘solution’ to the climate crisis is to turn the displaced into exploitable migrant labour. We need a truly internationalist alternative.
“We are not drowning, we are fighting” has become the rallying call for the Pacific Climate Warriors. From UN climate meetings to blockades of Australian coal ports, these young Indigenous defenders from twenty Pacific Island states are raising the alarm of global warming for low-lying atoll nations. Rejecting the narrative of victimisation – “you don’t need my pain or tears to know that we’re in a crisis,” as Samoan Brianna Fruean puts it – they are challenging the fossil fuel industry and colonial giants such as Australia, responsible for the world’s highest per-capita carbon emissions.
Around the world, climate disasters displace around 25.3 million people annually – one person every one to two seconds. In 2016, new displacements caused by climate disasters outnumbered new displacements as a result of persecution by a ratio of three to one. By 2050, an estimated 143 million people will be displaced in just three regions: Africa, South Asia, and Latin America. Some projections for global climate displacement are as high as one billion people.
Mapping who is most vulnerable to displacement reveals the fault lines between rich and poor, between the global North and South, and between whiteness and its Black, Indigenous and racialised others.
Globalised asymmetries of power create migration but constrict mobility. Displaced people – the least responsible for global warming – face militarised borders. While climate change is itself ignored by the political elite, climate migration is presented as a border security issue and the latest excuse for wealthy states to fortify their borders. In 2019, the Australian Defence Forces announced military patrols around Australia’s waters to intercept climate refugees.
The burgeoning terrain of “climate security” prioritises militarised borders, dovetailing perfectly into eco-apartheid. “Borders are the environment’s greatest ally; it is through them that we will save the planet,” declares the party of French far-Right politician Marine Le Pen. A US Pentagon-commissioned report on the security implications of climate change encapsulates the hostility to climate refugees: “Borders will be strengthened around the country to hold back unwanted starving immigrants from the Caribbean islands (an especially severe problem), Mexico, and South America.” The US has now launched Operation Vigilant Sentry off the Florida coast and created Homeland Security Task Force Southeast to enforce marine interdiction and deportation in the aftermath of disasters in the Caribbean.
Labour migration as climate mitigation
you broke the ocean in
half to be here.
only to meet nothing that wants you
– Nayyirah Waheed
Parallel to increasing border controls, temporary labour migration is increasingly touted as a climate adaptation strategy. As part of the ‘Nansen Initiative’, a multilateral, state-led project to address climate-induced displacement, the Australian government has put forward its temporary seasonal worker program as a key solution to building climate resilience in the Pacific region. The Australian statement to the Nansen Initiative Intergovernmental Global Consultation was, in fact, delivered not by the environment minister but by the Department of Immigration and Border Protection.
Beginning in April 2022, the new Pacific Australia Labour Mobility scheme will make it easier for Australian businesses to temporarily insource low-wage workers (what the scheme calls “low-skilled” and “unskilled” workers) from small Pacific island countries including Nauru, Papua New Guinea, Kiribati, Samoa, Tonga, and Tuvalu. Not coincidentally, many of these countries’ ecologies and economies have already been ravaged by Australian colonialism for over one hundred years.
It is not an anomaly that Australia is turning displaced climate refugees into a funnel of temporary labour migration. With growing ungovernable and irregular migration, including climate migration, temporary labour migration programs have become the worldwide template for “well-managed migration.” Elites present labour migration as a double win because high-income countries fill their labour shortage needs without providing job security or citizenship, while low-income countries alleviate structural impoverishment through migrants’ remittances.
Dangerous, low-wage jobs like farm, domestic, and service work that cannot be outsourced are now almost entirely insourced in this way. Insourcing and outsourcing represent two sides of the same neoliberal coin: deliberately deflated labour and political power. Not to be confused with free mobility, temporary labour migration represents an extreme neoliberal approach to the quartet of foreign, climate, immigration, and labour policy, all structured to expand networks of capital accumulation through the creation and disciplining of surplus populations.
The International Labour Organization recognises that temporary migrant workers face forced labour, low wages, poor working conditions, virtual absence of social protection, denial of freedom association and union rights, discrimination and xenophobia, as well as social exclusion. Under these state-sanctioned programs of indentureship, workers are legally tied to an employer and deportable. Temporary migrant workers are kept compliant through the threats of both termination and deportation, revealing the crucial connection between immigration status and precarious labour.
Through temporary labour migration programs, workers’ labour power is first captured by the border and this pliable labour is then exploited by the employer. Denying migrant workers permanent immigration status ensures a steady supply of cheapened labour. Borders are not intended to exclude all people, but to create conditions of ‘deportability’, which increases social and labour precarity. These workers are labelled as ‘foreign’ workers, furthering racist xenophobia against them, including by other workers. While migrant workers are temporary, temporary migration is becoming the permanent neoliberal, state-led model of migration.
Reparations include No Borders
“It’s immoral for the rich to talk about their future children and grandchildren when the children of the Global South are dying now.” – Asad Rehman
Discussions about building fairer and more sustainable political-economic systems have coalesced around a Green New Deal. Most public policy proposals for a Green New Deal in the US, Canada, UK and the EU articulate the need to simultaneously tackle economic inequality, social injustice, and the climate crisis by transforming our extractive and exploitative system towards a low-carbon, feminist, worker and community-controlled care-based society. While a Green New Deal necessarily understands the climate crisis and the crisis of capitalism as interconnected — and not a dichotomy of ‘the environment versus the economy’ — one of its main shortcomings is its bordered scope. As Harpreet Kaur Paul and Dalia Gebrial write: “the Green New Deal has largely been trapped in national imaginations.”
Any Green New Deal that is not internationalist runs the risk of perpetuating climate apartheid and imperialist domination in our warming world. Rich countries must redress the global and asymmetrical dimensions of climate debt, unfair trade and financial agreements, military subjugation, vaccine apartheid, labour exploitation, and border securitisation.
It is impossible to think about borders outside the modern nation-state and its entanglements with empire, capitalism, race, caste, gender, sexuality, and ability. Borders are not even fixed lines demarcating territory. Bordering regimes are increasingly layered with drone surveillance, interception of migrant boats, and security controls far beyond states’ territorial limits. From Australia offshoring migrant detention around Oceania to Fortress Europe outsourcing surveillance and interdiction to the Sahel and Middle East, shifting cartographies demarcate our colonial present.
Perhaps most offensively, when colonial countries panic about ‘border crises’ they position themselves as victims. But the genocide, displacement, and movement of millions of people were unequally structured by colonialism for three centuries, with European settlers in the Americas and Oceania, the transatlantic slave trade from Africa, and imported indentured labourers from Asia. Empire, enslavement, and indentureship are the bedrock of global apartheid today, determining who can live where and under what conditions. Borders are structured to uphold this apartheid.
The freedom to stay and the freedom to move, which is to say no borders, is decolonial reparations and redistribution long due.
Op-Eds5 days ago
Why Opinion Polls May Not Always Predict Election Outcomes in Kenya
Culture2 weeks ago
Creolizing Rosa Luxemburg – Beyond, and Against, the Conventional
Long Reads2 days ago
Is Decolonization More Than a Buzzword?
Reflections2 days ago
Will We in Kenya Ever Respect Each Other’s Bodies, Lives and Rights?
Politics2 days ago
Who Won Kenya’s “Nominations”?
Op-Eds2 days ago
Elite Power-Sharing: How Presidential Candidates Buy-off Disgruntled Leaders and Maintain Their Coalitions
Podcasts5 days ago
Decolonising Kenyan Food and Farming Systems – Part 1
Op-Eds2 days ago
A Just Energy Transition