CHURCH FAILS KENYANS! Big on Charity, Small on Justice

THE POPE THAT REFRESHES

There is something extremely refreshing about the leadership of Pope Francis. He is spontaneous, humble, simple, direct and at times deliberately undiplomatic. His incisive off-the-cuff comments together with his focused acts of kindness to prisoners and the homeless must make his handlers very uncomfortable, yet he touches the hearts and minds of just about everyone.

Francis offers his model of the Church in a clear and frank manner when he says, ‘I prefer a Church that is bruising, hurting and dirty because it has been out on the streets, rather than a Church which is unhealthy from being confined and from clinging to its own security’ (Joy of the Gospel Article 49). He is in fact saying that he wants a church that is relevant in the real world rather than one that is locked up in the security and comfort of the sacristy. He wants engagement rather than caution and rejects the false security of outdated structures that prevent us from seeing the suffering in our midst.

The Pope is just reminding everyone what it means to be light and salt to the world (Mt 6) in the 21st century. However, one suspects that his style of leadership is not welcomed or appreciated by the vast majority of prelates around the world. He visited Kenya in November 2015 and spoke boldly in Kangemi about the dreadful injustice of urban exclusion and the wounds that are caused by ‘minorities who cling to power and wealth, who selfishly squander while a growing majority is forced to flee to abandoned, filthy and rundown peripheries.’ There are hundreds of Kangemis all over Kenya.

Francis’s brave words in the Kangemi slum made little or no impact on the civil and religious authorities. His advice and challenges had been forgotten before he got back to Rome. The city of Nairobi did not pursue an urban renewal plan and the Catholic Church did not pressurise them to respond appropriately either

His brave words, however, made little or no impact on the civil and religious authorities. His advice and challenges had been forgotten before he got back to Rome. The city of Nairobi did not pursue an urban renewal plan and the Catholic Church did not pressurise them to respond appropriately either. The chance was gone. The pastoral visit may have encouraged the faithful but did not bring the transformational change that Francis would have hoped for.

Kenya is regarded as one of the most corrupt and unequal societies on the planet and most accept that almost as a badge of honour without demonstrating any outrage or shame. The churches provide services to the victims of inequality but are generally silent on questioning a system that allows such injustices to emerge and develop. Churches are big on charity but weak on confronting the root causes of injustice.

The churches in Kenya are well established professional outfits; however, that same level of professionalism may limit their ability to confront the authorities. They are in fact regarded as part of the establishment and so are hesitant to demand an overhaul or even a review of the status quo. For a number of reasons, church and state are cosy partners in the management of this nation.

Regretfully, the same problems that haunt society in general are also found within the churches and that limits their ability to speak prophetically on the issues that bedevil citizens. Most churches have proved unable to confront the twin evils of ethnicity and corruption because they too are plagued with these problems. This may disappoint us but should not be surprising, as they are human institutions even if they claim to be divine in origin.

It is not unreasonable to expect churches to transcend their ethnic differences and to witness to something bigger than the morass that is found in the political sphere. Weak, generalised statements on matters of national importance indicate a lack of collegiality in their leadership

However, it is not unreasonable to expect churches to transcend their ethnic differences and to witness to something bigger than the morass that is found in the political sphere. Weak, generalised statements on matters of national importance indicate a lack of collegiality in the leadership of the churches. They demonstrate an absence of common ground for the common good on the issues that bedevil the nation.

GENERALISED, VAGUE STATEMENTS THAT ARE FORGOTTEN IN 24 HOURS

Again, there is a great reluctance by churches to identify and speak out on specific instances of theft of public funds. These are never named by the churches nor are the perpetrators challenged to resign and face prosecution. So we get generalised, vague statements that are forgotten in 24 hours. Despite the mega corruption scandals of the past three decades, the churches have not made any significant contribution towards confronting the rot even though they meet the victims of grand corruption on a daily basis in their congregations.

Corruption is rife in every sector of society and the churches too have issues of looting and accountability that they have not addressed in an open and transparent manner. Travel around the country and Christians of all denominations will relate horrific stories of theft of funds with the only penalty being the transfer of the offender to another area where most likely they will commit similar offences. Of course, religion is also a growth industry and a good business venture for those who failed in other spheres.

This is not to suggest that religious leaders as a whole are just as corrupt as the political class. However, their unwillingness to address internal issues of corruption when they do arise means that they lack the dependability and respect to speak consistently and with conviction when the public coffers are looted. Of course the political class are equally aware of religious leaders’ inconsistency so they know they are not a real threat to them and that that weakness can even be converted into a resource for the politicians at critical moments.

Many speak of a golden era when the church leadership spoke frequently, consistently and with a single voice on the issues of the day. That, of course, was during the Moi era when the injustices and abuses were more blatant and the state more belligerent

Politicians know that many church leaders have bank debts, skeletons in the cupboard and recurring expenditure needs in their jurisdiction. That is the reason they come for prayers together with a bevy of media and why their large contributions towards church fundraisers buy silence and support. Because overseas funding for church activities is drying up, many religious cannot resist the political handouts even when they have grave suspicions about the origin of these funds. But that is the trap and they lose their integrity even when they use the hand-outs for a legitimate cause.

Many speak of a golden era when the church leadership spoke frequently, consistently and with a single voice on the issues of the day. That, of course, was during the Moi era. Times were different then. The injustices and abuses were more blatant and the state more belligerent. When we recall the political assassinations, illegal detentions, torture chambers, rigged polls, a one-party state, a partisan judiciary and a mute legislature, we realise it took courage to speak as a group and with consistency. However, it was easy to find unity on those horrific crimes and injustices. The outrage and desire for change united the churches and pasted over the many differences that existed within their own ranks.

KIBAKI WINS, THE CLERGY LET DOWN THEIR GUARD

The churches relaxed and let down their guard when Mwai Kibaki came to power in 2002. They felt their job was done and they could return to their houses of worship and do what they were ordained to do. However, their job was only half done as the new Constitution was not in place and corruption and negative ethnicity – the twin legacy of the Moi era – were as rampant as ever, with cartels driving both vices.

Prophetic leadership not only demands that one transcend the issues that prevent development but that the majority are included in the new vision. A pro-poor agenda would unite Kenyans of all faiths and none

Since 2002, the churches have never quite recovered, nor found a voice again in the public arena. Partly, that was because the church leadership had passed on to new, inexperienced and occasionally authoritarian, ambitious hands that were quite comfortable with the way Kibaki led the country. A further reason was that the failure to implement the MOU between Mwai Kibaki and Raila Odinga divided many religious groupings along ethnic and political lines. Just as the politicians could not hold together, neither could the religious bodies and it has been well-nigh impossible to put Humpty Dumpty together again.

So what is the way forward, particularly around this election period? Of course, the churches will be active in civic education and election observation. However, such activities are often just side shows not impacting on the campaign agenda and lacking the strength and professionalism to give them a credible, independent standpoint if the presidential ballot is contested. So they may appear to be busy but their impact will be limited.

Perhaps a much greater role could be played by churches if they together with other faiths present a pro-poor agenda that impacts on the campaign debates. They can act to offer hope that the masses can receive a proper share of the nation’s wealth and in the process reduce poverty drastically

This, of course, would require a well-resourced think tank on social and economic affairs that offers solutions and programmes with regard to employment, taxation, investment, housing, land use etc. An urgent realistic agenda that would be binding on the political parties is required. In the process, issues of ethnicity and hate speech would be cast aside as politicians find themselves compelled to respond to an agenda that has been set outside their circles of influence. Of course such an attractive agenda would also reduce tension and assist in creating national dialogue around the matters that are of everyday concern to citizens.

The corruption agenda is another ever-present elephant in the room. Yet even if faiths cannot fight this malignant cancer alone, they have such large constituencies that they can at least confront the apathy that exists with regards to mega graft

Prophetic leadership not only demands that one transcend the issues that prevent development but that the majority are included in the new vision. A pro-poor agenda would unite Kenyans of all faiths and none.

There are several other issues that churches should address that would bring transformational change. Extrajudicial killings have become a hallmark of the current regime. Its elaborate propaganda machine has also won over public opinion on this subject. The message relayed is that suspects, criminals and terrorists deserve to die and that the rule of law does not apply to them. However, if Muslim and Christian leaders spoke on the right to life of all suspects they could force the security machinery to be accountable and law-abiding and thus enhance the safety of citizens.

The corruption agenda is another ever-present elephant in the room. Yet even if faiths cannot fight this malignant cancer alone, they have such large constituencies that they can at least confront the apathy that exists with regards to mega graft. They must enlighten their faithful on the destruction that corruption visits on the economy and public services and indeed the soul of the nation.

BYSTANDERS OFFERING MERCY WHEN CALAMITY OCCURS?

So will the faiths be faithful to their mission and calling or will they be left sitting on the fence ready to host those displaced by a disputed election outcome? In other words, will they be proactive in giving leadership and setting the agenda or will they be bystanders offering mercy when calamity occurs? Time will tell.




THE TRUMP PHENOMENON IS REAL: How the Counterculture Inspired Trumpism

“If democracy is someday to regain control of capitalism, it must start by recognising that the concrete institutions in which democracy and capitalism are embodied need to be reinvented again and again.” (Piketty 2014: 570).

During the run-up to the US elections in November, a number of my African colleagues and friends told me that Trump would win the presidency. Several even opined that something good would come out of it in the end. Experience has taught me to treat such counterintuitive observations with a degree of cautious respect. But this particular appraisal was a tricky proposition.

Trump ran more on outrage with the status quo, homespun economic nationalism, and anti-Hillary sentiment than workable policies for reversing the domestic malaise framing his rude political rhetoric. The Tea Party crowd flocked to Trump’s campaign, presenting Trump with the kind of political stage suited to his unconventional and often reptilian behaviour. The national media feasted on Trump’s antics and divisive positions, but the condescending coverage of the campaign of a candidate who started out as an outlier also camouflaged the more clinical aspects of his strategy to defeat Hillary Clinton.

The poll numbers and sophisticated data analyses dismissed the likelihood of a Trump victory. But then the same electorate who twice elected Obama by sizeable majorities propelled his polar opposite into the White House.

For the many millions of Americans and others around the world distressed by the Trump campaign, the implications of his electoral-college victory was like waking up to a collective nightmare. Most of my friends, family and colleagues were stunned. Anger and agitation quickly replaced the shock. Obama’s bleak reaction, “Well, it’s not the Apocalypse,” offered little comfort.

This added up to a lot to think about as I made my way back to the US for the first time since 2004, arriving in the country two days after Trump’s inauguration. I was told to expect massive changes. My destination was Salt Lake City, the capital of Utah, socially the most conservative of the red states of the American West.

Exposure to racist theology like that of the Church of Latter Day Saints was a primary motivator for the black power salute at the 1968 Olympics in Mexico. Tommy Smith won the 200 metres in world record time followed by John Carlos in third place. The medallists mounted the podium barefoot, to symbolise the poverty of their African-American community, and raised black-gloved fists in defiance during the raising of the American flag. The protest triggered an explosion of institutional indignation and recriminations portraying Smith and Carlos as Nazis and traitors

For decades, many Americans considered the Mormon-dominated state to be a quasi-theocratic no-go zone with a unique past that set Utah apart from other ultra-conservative Western states like Wyoming, Idaho, Montana, and the Dakotas.

During my two previous trips I had found a large and variegated landscape of rangeland, desert, and mountains, with a large inland sea thrown in to boot. I found many similarities between Utah and Marsabit and the Lake Turkana region, including its traditional spatial and social separation from the rest of the country.

Mormons fleeing religious persecution in the East settled in Utah at a time when almost everyone else was heading to California. The Territory of Utah was officially recognised in 1851. It was the only Western state to allow slavery, and attempted to secede from the Union shortly afterwards. Washington was compelled to send in the army. Brigham Young, who had succeeded the religion’s founder, Joseph Smith, capitulated, but with the promise that the government would grant the Mormons autonomy to live according to their religion. The Church of Latter Day Saints has dominated the state’s economy and government ever since.

The Book of Mormon stated that the indigenous peoples the white settlers found in their new home originally came from the Middle East, but had divided into two antagonistic groups. The “Lamanites” were idolaters revealed to have extinguished a population of “Nephrite” Hebrews who had migrated to the New World several hundred years before the coming of Christ. Mormon scripture saw dark skin as a curse from God for wickedness, but otherwise taught that peoples of colour who converted and abandoned their culture would become white over time.

Exposure to this racist theology was a primary motivator for the black power salute at the 1968 Olympics in Mexico. Tommy Smith won the 200 metres in world record time followed by John Carlos in third place. The medallists mounted the podium barefoot, to symbolise the poverty of their African-American community, and raised black-gloved fists in defiance during the raising of the American flag. The protest triggered an explosion of institutional indignation and recriminations portraying Smith and Carlos as Nazis and traitors. The firestorm also curtailed the running career of the Australian silver medallist who in solidarity wore the same human rights badge pinned to the Americans’ jerseys.

It was a radicalising moment: I compiled a comprehensive report of the protest and the conditions leading up to it for a high school project. The racism of the church of Latter Day Saints added to my impressions of the state based on the gruesome fate of the Westward-bound Donner party caravan and the numerous massacres of the local Amerindian communities during the early days of the territory. Many of us growing up at that time saw Utah as the American equivalent of Albania or North Korea.

The Civil Rights movement had already done most of the heavy lifting. This in turn provided a platform for the anti-war movement. Before long, what began as a political movement for peace and racial inclusion coalesced into a much broader social upheaval

Utah has evolved during the intervening decades. The US government has resettled refugees of diverse backgrounds in the state. Salt Lake City’s industry-friendly environment also attracted the tech companies relocating from California, bringing the formerly isolated state into the American mainstream over the past two decades. Readily available jobs, a reasonable cost of living, and a network of Kenyan friends and family already established in the former no-go zone attracted several of my kids to Salt Lake City.

The growing cultural diversity has not altered the state’s bedrock conservatism. Mitt Romney and George Bush Jr still received a phenomenal 72 per cent of Utah’s vote in 2012 and 2008. Although Donald Trump’s tally did not reach these heights in 2016, the sum of these factors designated this most red of states an appropriate re-entry point for my tour of Trump’s America.

Steve Bannon, the Breitbart News executive who became one of the key architects of the Trump campaign, declared that if you want to change politics you have to change culture first. There was the angst on the surface and uncertainty lurking underneath, but was the Republican clean sweep of White House, the Senate, and House of representatives really a marker of far-reaching culture change?

THE COUNTERCULTURAL ROOTS OF THE TRUMP PRESIDENCY

Bannon clearly arrived at his change-the-culture thesis by observing the counterculture that emerged while my generation came of age, a phenomenon that reshaped American society and politics along the way.

The post-World War II period was an era of unprecedented prosperity, middle-class growth and technological progress for the USA. Politics was something that our parents followed as it came around in four-year cycles. America was a truly great place to grow up, as long as you could keep the fear of nuclear Armageddon, and other industrial-scale threats, at a safe distance.

For the young Americans growing up in customisable bubbles coloured by the scientific advances underpinning the futuristic orientation of American society, that was harder to do as the 1960s wore on. The raised fists in Mexico City — along with other radicalising events like the Vietnam war, the violent suppression of the Yippie protests at the Chicago Democratic Convention, and the river in Cleveland that actually caught fire and burnt for 17 days — confirmed my own doubts about how wonderful everything was or was supposed to be.

The Civil Rights movement had already done most of the heavy lifting. This in turn provided a platform for the anti-war movement. Before long, what began as a political movement for peace and racial inclusion coalesced into a much broader social upheaval. The country entered a state of agitation sustained by an expanding range of worthy causes from the conditions of migrant farm workers to rampant industrial pollution. Much of the conflict was generational, and reflected a polarising explosion of new memes, pheromones, and mind-altering visions.

As the awakening and the activism of the Vietnam era ran its course, American conservatives felt increasingly isolated. Not only had their values been shunted aside, the country’s conservative hard core saw the reforms and new liberalism as a direct threat to the sources of their wealth. Conservative partisans like Steve Bannon may have missed the party, but they were taking notes

The sentiment at the time was that only a far-reaching cultural reorientation could triumph against the entrenched political order and the military-industrial complex controlling it. The mix of hot politics and cool culture was always more about challenging the conventional assumptions underpinning American exceptionalism than the political revolution advocated by the far-left fringe.

Waves of new music, innovative lifestyles, radical role models, and more mundane concerns like promoting healthy dietary choices rocked the national status quo. People started searching for alternatives to the mindless consumption of the planet’s limited resources. Tabs, buttons, and mushrooms opened up new internal vistas that encouraged interest in ancient cultures and their spiritual religious traditions. We probed the mystical symbols adorning the dollar bill and investigated the esoteric philosophies guiding the new nation’s founding fathers.

The combination of protests, new cultural orientations, and developments in the war zones of Southeast Asia shifted public opinion. Withdrawal from Vietnam accompanied progress on other fronts from race relations to female liberation. New legislation addressed discrimination based on colour, creed, and gender, reined in the CIA, and created the Environmental Protection Agency to control serial polluters.

The ship had been righted, the course of the nation redirected, and use of the term “politically correct” offered backhanded acknowledgement of the nation’s cultural makeover in politics. In the end, many of the political attitudes engendered by the counterculture followed long hair, frayed jeans, and recreational marijuana use into mainstream America.

The changes, affected over a relatively short period, had made America even more exceptional in our eyes. But some observers disagreed. The eminent anthropologist Marvin Harris opined that the main impact of the counterculture was selling a lot of records. Iconoclastic musician Frank Zappa said that rock music’s potential revolutionary impact had been felt mostly in the textile industry. Cultural revolution did little to change the nation’s political structures and economy.

As the awakening and the activism of the Vietnam era ran its course, American conservatives felt increasingly isolated. Their champion, the embattled president Nixon, resigned office in disgrace. Not only had their values been shunted aside, the country’s conservative hard core saw the reforms and new liberalism as a direct threat to the sources of their wealth. They were still wealthy, but had become dinosaurs inhabiting a political landscape dominated by progressive ideas and proponents of activist government. Conservative partisans like Steve Bannon may have missed the party, but they were taking notes.

IT’S NOT REALLY ABOUT TRUMP

The Koch brothers are ferociously independent heirs to one of the largest private corporations in the United States. Like the Bush family and their cronies, their father, Fred Koch, built up his fortune during the 1930s, training Bolshevik engineers and selling his advanced oil refining technology and refineries to Stalin and Hitler’s Germany. His children’s nanny was a Hitler sympathiser, and after the war Fred Koch became a strong supporter of the rabidly anti-Communist John Birch Society to assuage his guilt over aiding the USSR. He transferred his extreme libertarian values to his sons, and after his death in 1967, Charles and David Koch bought out their two more liberal minded siblings.

In Dark Money, a book first released in 2016, Jane Mayer tells the story of how the Koch Brothers assembled a network of 400 über-wealthy industrialists. Mayer’s documentation of their activities reads like a virtual symphony of corporate crime in the form of fraud, tax avoidance, violations of workplace safety and employee welfare, foreign bribery, and environmental violations

Under the brothers, Koch Industries became the country’s second wealthiest private corporation, and they parlayed their financial muscle into the single most influential political machine in the country. Their first venture, David Koch’s run for the presidency on the Libertarian Party ticket in 1980, failed miserably. Plan B was based on a totally different approach. It began with annual summits attended by a handpicked list of like-minded individuals opposed to most forms of government regulation and taxation.

In Dark Money, a book first released in 2016, Jane Mayer tells the story of how the Koch Brothers assembled a network of 400 über-wealthy industrialists who leveraged their money and influence to penetrate the American political system for their personal financial benefit. The brothers are the sixth and seventh wealthiest Americans and their combined wealth makes them number one. Most of those they recruited belong to the top .01% of the country’s wealthiest billionaires and are known as the “invisible rich” because they operate private companies that shield them from public scrutiny and government rules for fiscal disclosure.

Mayer’s documentation of their activities reads like a virtual symphony of corporate crime in the form of fraud, tax avoidance, violations of workplace safety and employee welfare, foreign bribery, and environmental violations. Over several decades, this network, or the Kochtopus as it was dubbed by one analyst, spent billions of dollars funnelled through tax-free foundations and charities exempted from public oversight to promote their objectives.

The Koch summits provided the institutional foundation and financial support for a long-term strategy based on three overlapping components: The reformulation of libertarian ideology in terms of ideas and concepts enabling its propagation within mainstream society; the creation of institutions for translating this free-market ideology into policy positions and legislation; and building political vehicles on the ground for placing politicians aligned with their ideas and policies into public office.

Most of the Koch-networked and -funded institutions and political action committees, like Americans for Prosperity, flew underneath the radar. At the same time, an array of media personalities, talk show hosts, and academic celebrities duplicated the role that rock musicians, intellectuals and artists, political activists, and outspoken athletes like Mohammed Ali played in energising the masses several decades before. They elevated the role of divisive social issues like abortion rights in the political arena, fuelling the culture wars that influenced otherwise politically moderate citizens.

The Koch network funded think tanks based in respected universities to reinforce their anti-government ideology and critiques of public spending. Covertly funded political action committees were used to gain control of executive offices and legislative bodies. Over a period of 40 years, the Koch Brothers and their clique of archconservative supporters patiently cultivated a right-wing movement, often with more power to block and obstruct than to legislate their own agenda.

An array of media personalities, talk show hosts, and academic celebrities duplicated the role that rock musicians, intellectuals and artists, political activists, and outspoken athletes like Mohammed Ali played in energising the masses several decades before. They elevated the role of divisive social issues like abortion rights in the political arena

But despite the inroads and influence generated by their free-flowing money, the Koch network still lacked a nation-wide vehicle for mobilising grassroots supporters.

ENTER BARACK OBAMA, PURSUED BY MAD HATTERS

Help came from an unexpected source.

The election of Barrack Obama in 2008 triggered the formation of the anti-government Tea Party movement. Its emergence enabled the Koch network to dedicate their annual summit in 2009 to organise an all-out assault on the Democrats during the 2010 mid-term elections. Tea Party candidates defeated Democrat and mainstream Republican incumbents as the GOP regained control of the House and Senate. The trend continued in 2012, even though Obama retained the White House with a 5.5 million-vote margin of victory.

Despite their growing clout within the federal and state governments, the Koch-Tea Party coalition could not field a viable presidential candidate of their own creation, as demonstrated by the succession of inchoate candidates like Marco Rubio, Ted Cruz, Rand Paul, Rick Santorum, Ben Carson, Michelle Bachmann, and the pizza king Herman Cain.

The problem was about to repeat itself in 2016, until along came the Donald. Trump blitzed the field, reducing both establishment candidates like Jeb Bush and Tea Party aspirants to props in his carnival-style campaign. He proceeded to tweet himself into the White House, portraying himself as a new and independent force in American politics.

That he was. “I even did without a guitar and piano,” he quipped, a jibe referring to the star power Hillary Clinton trundled out at the end of her self-satisfied campaign.

Actually, the Trump team had something much better. Cambridge Analytica is a company dedicated to “the use of data to change behaviour,” or in the case of the 2016 election, using emotional manipulation based on psychological profiling to induce people to vote against their own socioeconomic interest. Electoral analysts confirm that CA helped sway the vote in key swing states like Florida, North Carolina, and Michigan, but their advanced analytics arguably required the distortionary prism cultivated by the alt-right players like Breitbart News and Steve Bannon to be effective.

THE REAL HOMELAND INSECURITY

It is easy to denigrate Trump the person. But Trump the politician scored some important points on my political scorecard. I had witnessed the beginning of the decline overtaking rural areas in the American South, and now even communities and people in America’s heartland who did everything by the book to adapt to the industrial decline still couldn’t win. The economic nationalism agenda clearly spoke to their concerns, even if it was short on viable solutions.

Despite their growing clout within the federal and state governments, the Koch-Tea Party coalition could not field a viable presidential candidate of their own creation, as demonstrated by the succession of inchoate candidates like Marco Rubio, Ted Cruz, Rand Paul, Rick Santorum, Ben Carson, Michelle Bachmann, and the pizza king Herman Cain. The problem was about to repeat itself in 2016, until along came the Donald

A Trump versus Bernie Sanders contest focusing debate on the overlapping issues at the core of both candidates’ campaigns would have been much better for the country and the eventual winner. That did not happen thanks to the Democratic National Committee’s pro-Hillary machinations. Instead, we got a noisy post-truth spectacle that made one candidate look like a sleazy demagogue while the other came across as an opportunistic mannikin compromised by special interests.

The country emerged from the polls more polarised than ever, and the acrimony of the aftermath offered little hope for improvement. The fact that Trump was not part of the Kochtopus and the Koch brothers did not support his campaign offered some hope: Maybe the guy would revert to the former Democrat who was cool with Dennis Rodman on The Celebrity Apprentice. But then again, Vice President Michael Pence was a Koch-funded poodle; Trump promptly loaded his Cabinet with Koch partisans like Betsy DeVoss and Ben Carson.

It was not easy to see where my friend’s “something good will come out this” would come from with these people in charge.

A few days after I arrived in Utah, Trump announced his Muslim travel ban. A wave of spontaneous protests erupted as airport authorities detained several hundred arrivals from abroad including a former Middle Eastern head of state. The mainstream media went into overdrive and anti-Trump posts proliferated on social media, many of them creative, incisive, and entertaining. This and the breaking news about Russia drove a former State Department official to lament that the US has become a “Banana Republic.”

Although a federal judge declared the ban unconstitutional on the first working day following the executive order, a Utah-based friend from Lamu, spooked by the ban, still felt it necessary to travel back to Kenya to escort his wife, who had just received her long-awaited US visa, past airport immigration and security. More significantly, three days later, the LDS church issued a statement opposing the ban.

I argued that the election was the best thing that happened for progressive forces in decades. It woke people up, and saved the world from a hawkish and dissembling Hillary. At least the decades of drift culminating in the aristocratic takeover of party and state by the Clinton dynasty were over

This was unexpected news, as was a University of Utah study that reported most Muslim immigrants found the state more welcoming and adjusting to the US easier in Utah’s family oriented and no-alcohol Mormon culture. I also discovered that the religion’s founder and prophet, Joseph Smith, was actually an abolitionist, and that the Utah territory granted women the right to vote in 1870, 50 years before the federal government legislated universal suffrage by passing the 19th Amendment (Congress responded by disenfranchising Utah women with the Edmunds–Tucker Act, which was designed to weaken the Mormons politically and punish them for polygamy).

Red America is not as monolithic as it may appear in media political narratives. I spent Super Bowl Sunday in Salt Lake City with a houseful of Mexican relatives. More of them were more upset with the New England Patriot’s last minute Trump-style victory than worried about Trump’s wall.

I visited blue America. We convened a large family gathering in Los Angeles, and spent time with friends in San Francisco. There were a lot of Teslas and other electric cars, and a few self-driving vehicles on the freeways, their passengers contently working on phones and tablets.

THE COMING SECESSION OF HOTEL CALIFORNIA?

California is the high-tech future. But it is also the land of a new long-tail market peasantry. Internet-savvy entrepreneurs were surviving by reselling appliances and other recycled items. Co-operatives in the form of Internet-based groups were pooling their knowledge to utilise the online economy.

I have in-laws in LA who subsist by swapping coupons and minimising household costs through scientific shopping for bargains and stocking their freezer with food reduced for clearance.

Despite their struggle to keep body and soul intact, every month they host poetry readings and other cultural events in their home that are attended by dozens of friends and associates more concerned with the fate of the country than their own declining incomes.

The two coasts had emerged as the centre of anti-Trump activism, and some of the protests, like the student protests in Berkeley that forced the administration to cancel an appearance by the Breitbart editor, Milo Yiannopoulos, crossed the line, violating basic constitutional and democratic principles. When I mentioned the retrogressive nature of some of these developments, my friends in California ranted about the new regime and talked about secession in terms that recalled my conversations with the Mombasa Republican Council’s leadership.

I responded by arguing that the election was the best thing that happened for progressive forces in decades. It woke people up, and saved the world from a hawkish and dissembling Hillary. Contributions to the American Civil Liberties Union were spiking; at least the decades of drift culminating in the aristocratic takeover of party and state by the Clinton dynasty were over.

Other developments of the past several months painted a much more nuanced picture of the state of the nation. San Francisco 49ers quarterback Colin Kaepernick revisited the spirit of the Mexico Olympic protest by refusing to stand for the national anthem. In pro-Trump Louisiana, the city of New Orleans took down the statue of Robert E. Lee — the state’s last remaining symbol of the Confederacy. John McCain penned an incisive op-ed in the New York Times underscoring the importance of human rights in foreign policy as an extension of domestic American values. Bob Dylan, the first poet of the counterculture, became a Nobel laureate.

The United States is a highly dualistic nation held together by a strong political centre. The nation’s political trajectory has consistently zigzagged between right and left of centre over the course of my lifetime. The transition from Obama to Trump was consistent with this dialectic

After the election, the website for the largest Tea Party PAC crowed that it took the anti-war movement 25 years to elect one of their own to the White House while they had done the same over the course of two electoral cycles. In reality, the success rate of Tea Party candidates peaked in 2012. Now minority politicians with names like Chokwe Lumumba and Khalid Kamau were winning seats in local government. Unheralded candidates recently won by-elections for seats in New Hampshire and New Jersey districts that had never elected a Democrat.

In his book What’s Wrong With Kansas, Thomas Frank describes how conservatives used religion and the culture wars to flip the formerly progressive state into a Republican stronghold. A decade later, the economy is tanking, while the state’s model education system deteriorates due to the spending cuts instituted by the Koch-supported Governor. Back in another flyover state, there are helped wanted signs everywhere and the Utah economy is booming. The difference is not accidental.

After I returned to Kenya, Bloomberg News published an article entitled How Utah is Keeping the American Dream Alive. The writer begins by confessing, “There’s no getting around it: For a girl raised on the Upper West Side of Manhattan, Salt Lake City is a very weird place.” She then proceeds to detail how the state government is collaborating with Latter Day Saints agencies to provide social protection for the poor while providing job training addressing local demand for skilled and semi-skilled labour. The formula is generating Scandinavian levels of social mobility in a state with a small but committed civil service and the country’s lowest per capita expenditure on education.

FACING AN UNEXCEPTIONAL FUTURE?

In 2017, I found a country not so different from the one I left on the brink of electing Barack Obama. Communication was efficient and uncomplicated; people were without exception polite, helpful, and friendly. The malls were filled with new versions of the usual stuff, and if you shopped smart most of it was much cheaper than it would cost in Kenya. Smoking reefer was laissez faire or just legal. The junk food was healthier, and the country was awash with innovative ideas and creative content. East Africa has changed so much more during the interim. But appearances can be deceptive.

Truth will make a comeback, and there is a world of well-informed and innovative solutions out there to get things going. Once again, it’s looking like my African friends got it right

The United States is a highly dualistic nation held together by a strong political centre. The nation’s political trajectory has consistently zigzagged between right and left of centre over the course of my lifetime. This makes for a lot of contradictions, but also for a more purple Republic over the long run. The transition from Obama to Trump was consistent with this dialectic, which is also a source of American democracy’s distinctive pattern of continuous change and incremental reform. President Trump is the latest exhibit in this tradition, but there are caveats.

The problem is not that Trump’s diagnoses of the nation’s problems were not on target. His vision for making America Great Again, in contrast, is informed by nostalgia, special interests, and backward-looking solutions. Trump’s proposed budget and tax cuts will injure the less educated and economically insecure voters who flocked to his rallies. The jobs at the Carrier factory Trump “saved” from being outsourced to Mexico are to be automated. Many elements of the economic nationalism he showcased on the stump are already in remission, and he is retreating from the foreign policy positions he used to whip up the crowds. He turned the government’s Middle East foreign policy over to the Saudis in exchange for a large order of weapons.

The future of the middle class is uncertain. The accelerating pace of machine learning and artificial intelligence may bring about the economic singularity within a generation. The country I grew up in was about exploration, problem solving, and optimising potential as we moved forward. Now I sense that for many Americans, the future is as murky as the Great Salt Lake on a cloudy winter day.

EVIL WINNERS WHO INVESTED IN PSEUDO-CHARITIES

The Koch Brothers and their friends tried to manufacture a new political culture based on libertarian values, but are really perpetuating the same financial industrial royalty presidents from Jefferson to Eisenhower warned us about. The likes of Bill Gates and Warren Buffet are following the tradition of other American philanthropists guided by noblesse oblige; the super wealthy populating the alt-right are evil winners who invested in pseudo-charities dedicated to advancing their own narrow interests.

Things were humming along until an outsider crashed the party.

Now the Trump presidency is unravelling in the face of problems largely of his own making. Our institutions are engaged, and my only hope is Trump & Co stay in office long enough to take down the whole prevaricating, alternative fact, toxic waste emitting and hate-mongering circus. We have seen worse, and I don’t begrudge the sincere citizens who played their trump card on the Donald having their day in the sun. But now it’s time to sort out the unprecedented crisis of inequality facing capitalism everywhere. Truth will make a comeback, and there is a world of well-informed and innovative solutions out there to get things going.

Once again, it’s looking like my African friends got it right.




Railway Rivalry in the East African Community

Politics rather than economics are driving multi-billion dollar investments in new ports and railways.

Commentators agree that Africa needs huge investment to bridge the ‘infrastructural deficit’ after decades of neglect. In recent years, East African Community (EAC) members have launched transport projects worth tens of billions of US dollars. A Chinese contractor is building a standard gauge railway (SGR) from Mombasa to Nairobi and (perhaps) Kampala and Kigali (see map). The Mombasa-Nairobi phase of the project is estimated to cost KES327 billion (US$3.8 billion), 90% financed by China’s Exim Bank. The new line will run parallel to the existing meter (‘narrow’) gauge railway. The proposed Lamu Port Southern Sudan-Ethiopia Transport (LAPSSET) project consists of a new port, a 3,250 km standard gauge railway line, and other projects costing an estimated US$23 billion. In Tanzania, large projects underway or planned include upgrading Dar es Salaam port (US$500 million), building a new port at Bagamoyo (US$10 billion), upgrading the current central railway line from Dar to Isaka (US$300 million), and constructing a SG railway linking Dar es Salaam with Rwanda and Burundi (US$7.6 billion).

Cooksey map_Kenya-SGR_14-kenya-rail-COL

This map was produced by Africa Confidential. Permission for re-use should be obtained from Africa Confidential.

COST CONCERNS

Although the EAC desperately needs more and better infrastructure, the economic viability of some of the proposed investments has been questioned, given the enormous costs involved and possible cheaper and less risky alternatives in rehabilitation and upgrading existing facilities. Soft loans from China’s Exim Bank are financing most of the SG railway projects, while both Kenya and Tanzania have introduced a Railway Development Levy on imports to help cover local costs. Apart from finance, other vital issues that have not been addressed are how the railways will claw back freight from the roads, and, crucially, how the new facilities will be managed and regulated.

Tanzania and Kenya compete to serve the transit trade of Uganda, Rwanda, and Burundi, whose landlocked geography gives all three (and other non-EAC neighbours) a keen interest in the cost, safety and convenience of trading through Dar or Mombasa. 80% of Uganda’s imports pass through Mombasa, while Rwanda and Burundi depend on both Dar and Mombasa for imports and exports. Services have improved at Mombasa and Dar es Salaam ports in recent years, but there is still a long way to go to reach international standards. According to the World Bank (WB), inefficiency and corruption in managing Dar port and the Central Railway are estimated to cost EAC countries US$2.6 billion a year.

FLAWED PROCUREMENT

Large investments in railway upgrading designed to complement port improvements are also underway, but they have been marred by lack of transparency and competent economic analysis. In March 2010, Kenyan transport minister Amos Kimunya cancelled the procurement process that Kenya Railways had initiated for feasibility and design of the SGR, and the contract was awarded to China Road and Bridge Corporation (CRBC). Thereafter, there was no competitive tendering or public oversight of the procurement process. CRBC was involved in ‘all aspects of the project’, including the feasibility study, project design, cost, and finance, ‘and was then handed the contract to build.’

Critical voices included Transparency International Kenya, who ran a campaign to stop the SG project on the grounds that it would ‘cripple the country financially’; ignored procurement rules; and was unnecessary given the upgrade option. In January 2014, John Githongo wrote an open letter to President Kenyatta questioning the credentials of the SGR contractor CRBC and the inflated cost of the project. Economist and commentator David Ndii flagged the likely negative effects of railway duplication on the budget and the national debt. In response to these and other critics, Vice President William Ruto retorted: “No one and nothing will stop us from building the railway…”

In June, the tender to manage the new line when completed was awarded to China Communications Construction Company (CCCC), parent company of CRBC. On completion of Phase 1 of the SGR, Kenya will have competing railway lines from Mombasa to Nairobi. Rift Valley Railways (RWR), the concessionaire for the existing railway, plans to claim compensation from the Kenyan government for loss of custom to the SG line. RVR effectively helps finance SG through the 1.5% Railway Development Levy paid on all imports. RVR’s performance has improved in recent years, but the SGR has put into question the future of the concession, and further investments are on hold.

PARALLEL LINES

The economic viability of the SGR option was challenged in a 2009 study by Canadian Pacific Consulting Services (CPSC), which concluded that the benefit of replacing narrow gauge by SG would be marginal. The conversion of the entire EAC rail backbone to SG was considered ‘cost prohibitive’ using ‘even the most optimistic’ traffic and income projections. On the basis of this report, the EAC Secretariat produced a regional Railways Master Plan that foresaw the growth of rail traffic in the region from 3.7 million tonnes in 2007 to 21 million tonnes by 2030, using the existing track. This Master Plan was superseded by a pro-SGR version that made no mention of the CPSC findings.

Pro-SG lobbies dominate public discourse. Justifications for the SG option include: increased freight carrying capacity, reduced wear and tear on the roads, and greater speed. According to President Kenyatta, the inefficiency of the rail system ‘has placed a disproportionate burden on the slow, cumbersome and more costly road network.’ Thus, ‘the cost of goods and services is unduly high and … uncompetitive.’

The Tanzanian government also turned to the SG option after first opting to rehabilitate the existing Central Line. In 2003, the African Development Fund financed a feasibility study for a SG line from Isaka to Kigali and Bujumbura (1,435 km) which declared the project feasible and attractive to private investors. This and subsequent detailed engineering proposals were based on the assumption that a new SGR would be built from Dar to Isaka. When in March 2014 the Tanzanian government agreed a US$300 million project to upgrade the existing track to Isaka, there was still no public discussion of SGR. In April, the SGR option was proposed publicly for the first time, and finally in March 2015, Minister of Transport Samuel Sitta announced that Tanzania was embarking on a 2,500 km SG railway costing an estimated US$7.6 billion. In collaboration with the World Economic Forum, the government appointed American financial advisory group Rothschild as a transaction adviser. If both projects go ahead, Dar to Isaka will also have competing parallel railway lines.

NEW RAIL VIABILITY

Apart from the CPCS, the main critical voice in the SG debate has been the World Bank, who insisted that rehabilitation was the better policy option. A WB transport specialist argued that the “Business case for railway depends on the improvement of train availability, reliability, punctuality, and financial sustainability, not the size of track gauge.”

Since politics is driving the SG projects in both Kenya and Tanzania, it is possible that certain categories of goods will be obliged by law to use the railway. There are no studies that would allow an assessment of the economics of transporting goods by rail or road. It is assumed that passenger services will also be provided, irrespective of their economic justification. In 2011, the EAC Secretariat made the following comment on transport policy:

…there is no indication that partner states intend relinquishing their ownership role to the EAC. They will therefore remain responsible for the planning of, investment in and operation of their transport assets…. The role of the Community will be to guide partner states on the components of the transport system that are of regional importance…

Still, the Secretariat’s advice to rehabilitate the existing track was overruled in favour of the SG option. Issues of governance, management and profitability in a context where past PPPs have largely failed are ignored. The enormous costs involved stretch national budgets and add to the national debt. How rail transport will claw back enough freight from the politically well-connected trucking industry to make rail financially viable is not explained.

POLITICAL DOMINATION

For better or worse, political relations between EAC elites strongly influence which infrastructure projects will be implemented. Since President Magufuli came to power in late 2015, warm relations have been established between Tanzanian and Rwandan heads of state. In April 2016, Uganda decided that a US$4 billion oil pipeline would go through Tanzania, scrapping a previous agreement with Kenya. In May, Rwanda announced that it planned to build its SG railway through Tanzania instead of Kenya. In turn, Kenya announced that the planned SG project might have to end at the Ugandan border, since Uganda appeared to be no longer committed to its part of the project.

The above discussion suggests that there is little or no effective coordination of transport policy in the EAC. Dar es Salaam and Mombasa ports are being upgraded at considerable cost while new ports are planned with huge additional handling capacities. The decision to invest in SG railways was made in the absence of any plans on how to phase the transition from narrow to standard gauge. The Tanzanian government negotiated with the World Bank to upgrade the Dar-Isaka line while at the same time negotiating with Chinese companies over the SG plan.

There is no public discussion on how policy will encourage (or force) a massive transfer of freight from road to railway. While ruling elites are the ultimate drivers of major rail investments, they are also influential in road transport policy. EAC governments are committed to private investment and management of the new railways, but it is difficult to imagine robust private participation without state protection, meaning further tinkering with the market mechanisms that should be driving the transport sector. For the moment, politics dominates transport coordination in the EAC, with the Arusha secretariat playing little or no significant role.

The author has also written a discussion paper for ECDPM on Tanzania and the East African Community: A comparative political economy and contributed to ECDPM’s Political Economy of Regional Integration in Africa – East African Community Report with Chapter 3 on Transport Infrastructure.

By Brian Cooksey
Brian Cooksey is an independent researcher.

This article was published in GREAT Insights Volume 5, Issue 4  (July/August 2016).




WAR GAMES: How repressive regimes in East Africa are playing the Amisom card

On January 15, 2016, about 209 Kenyan troops posted at the El Adde military camp in Somalia were rattled by sounds of gunfire followed shortly by a large explosion. It immediately dawned on the soldiers that they were under attack by a special contingent of Al Shabaab’s infantry specializing in mass raids against isolated Amisom (African Union Mission in Somalia) bases. This was the Al Qaeda-affiliated terrorist organisation’s most deadly attack against an Amisom base.

The initial shots in the pre-dawn attack were fired by a Kenyan sentry manning a machine gun post. He was shooting towards an approaching SVBIED (suicide vehicle-borne improvised explosive device – basically a car bomb being driven by a suicide bomber). The suicide bomber behind the wheel was a man called Abdul Qadir Ahmad Ali (nicknamed Farhan by his fellow terrorists). The gunshots did not stop the vehicle; the SVBIED ended up exploding inside the base. The first blast from the explosion incinerated everything within the vicinity, while the second blast wave ricocheted around the adjacent tents, knocking some soldiers unconscious.

The base hosted Kenya Defence Force (KDF) troops from the 9th Rifle Battalion and a few soldiers from the 5th Kenya Rifles. A day earlier, Somalia National Army (SNA) troops had vacated the adjacent base over fears of being attacked by Al Shabaab which suggested that the Kenyans were aware of an impending raid. However, their defence preparations were not well thought-out, so when the infantry from the Saleh Nabhan battalion attacked, they were met with a disorganised response, with some soldiers trying to flee and others taking cover. The attackers also appeared confused during their raid. This is what makes the fall of El Adde so perplexing and tragic.

A propaganda documentary released on April 10, 2016 by Al Shabaab showed a highly edited version of the events that occurred on that fateful day. The video showed that most of the Kenyan soldiers that fell were in their full combat gear, a clear indication that they suspected that an attack was imminent and had prepared for it. However, they appeared surprised by the scale of the attack; some even ran away and were later rescued after they reached Mandera County in Kenya.

To date, neither Amisom nor the Kenyan government nor the Kenya Defence Forces (KDF) have published an official death toll from the El Adde attack. Yet it was recognized internationally as one of the greatest military disasters to befall a peacekeeping mission in a single day. CNN even labeled it as a military massacre that was being covered-up by the Kenyan regime. American military officials were also shocked by the scale of defeat that KDF suffered, while a Kenyan official stated that Al Shabaab had done good reconnaissance on the base before attacking it.

A FRAGMENTED FORCE

Amisom was established in January 2007 by the African Union as a peace-support mission to protect the fledgling government in Mogadishu from the preeminent peace spoiler in Somalia, Al Shabaab. However, to date, Al Shabaab still retains formidable offensive capabilities despite losing considerable amounts of territory. This raises the question of whether there is a disconnect between Amisom’s mandate and the reality on the ground?

According to its official profile, Amisom was originally conceived as a transitory UN-backed peace support mission mandated to promote national dialogue and reconciliation, as well as to create a secure environment that would facilitate humanitarian operations. However, from an initial deployment of 1,500 Ugandan troops in 2007, it has grown into the AU’s largest multidimensional peace-support operation, with over 22,000 troops, as well as police and civilian components.

Neopatrimony rarely values meritocracy and competence in military matters; it’s only loyalty that counts.

The persistence of Al Shabaab attacks against both Amisom troops and their home countries as well as against the nascent Somali government have also forced Amisom to adopt a more aggressive posture. Following the July 2010 bombings against crowds watching a screening of the FIFA World Cup Final in Kampala which killed 74 people, the AU “reinterpreted” Amisom’s rules of engagement to allow for pre-emptive defence, which allowed Amisom to go on the offensive. Later that year, the UN Security council authorized a 50 percent expansion of Amisom’s mandated troop strength from 8000 to 12000. As a result, in August the next year, al Shabaab were forced out of Mogadishu.

Amisom was allowed a further 5700 soldiers in 2012 as well as an expanded logistical support package that greatly expanded the scope of its military operations in Somalia. In November 2013 the UN Security Council authorised a further surge of 2,500 fighting troops as well as support elements, including combat engineers and logistics personnel, bringing it to its current level of 22,000.

However, Amisom suffers from structural fragmentation in its command chain and realm of control. There are zones where Amisom troops operate alongside non-integrated Ethiopian (and Kenyan) troops who do not take orders from the Force Headquarters in Mogadishu. In addition, Amisom commanders from the various troop-contributing nations must first consult with their respective national militaries before allowing their troops to engage in any military operation in Somalia.

The amorphous nature of Amisom’s command structure not only allows the governments of the troop-contributing nations to exert a direct control over their contingents serving in Amisom, it also disrupts effective communication between the different Amisom contingents. This poor communication has led different Amisom contingents to rely more on their home countries for military support rather than on Amisom. This explains why the Kenyan troops in El Adde first alerted their seniors in Nairobi of the attack before requesting for military assistance from Amisom. KDF was slow to provide any relief and the base had fallen by noon. There is no evidence that KDF troops in El Adde ever relayed a distress call to their Ethiopian allies in Gabarharey.

Further, Amisom lack of air capacity to move troops limits its ability to reinforce bases that are under attack. Despite the UN Security Council authorizing deployment of an aviation component of up to 12 helicopters comprising nine utility helicopters and three attack helicopters, these assets must come from the troop contributing countries as the UN has no military choppers of its own. Though several countries, including Kenya, had promised to deploy aircraft under Amisom, this hadn’t been done by the time of the El Adde attack. As a result, and as the KDF acknowledged, Amiosom would have been unable to come to the rescue of the beleaguered base.

THE POLITICS OF PEACEKEEPING

Amisom does deserve the glowing commendations it has received from the international community for its sustained efforts at degrading the military capabilities of Al Shabaab, and for stabilising Somalia to the extent that democratic elections have been held and an internationally-recognised government has been inaugurated. Even so, there is a need to analyse the way that Amisom has evolved into a rented peace-enforcement mission that serves to legitimise neopatrimonial political systems – where state resources are used to secure the loyalty of clients in the general population.

Understanding how regional neopatrimonial politics affect the operations of Amisom will help us shed light on why Amisom has been unable of obliterate Al Shabaab, despite fielding a total of 22,000 well-paid and relatively well-equipped troops from Burundi, Djibouti, Ethiopia, Kenya and Uganda who are fighting militants whose numbers are estimated to range between 8,000 and 10,000.

Also, there is a need to assess how Amisom has served to entrench autocratic rule in troop-contributing nations such as Burundi, Ethiopia and Uganda, and whether the Kenyan government is using the Amisom card to retain power and ensure the current regime’s survival after the August 2017 general elections.

The Amisom mission has had a detrimental effect on democratic space in troop-contributing nations, and it is becoming evidently clear that to defeat 10,000 Islamic terrorists, nearly 200 million citizens in the East African nations of Kenya, Burundi, Djibouti, Ethiopia and Uganda will see their democratic rights curtailed. Also, the issue of military incompetence needs to be considered as it is a known fact that neopatrimony rarely values meritocracy and competence in military matters; it’s only loyalty that counts.

Furthermore, such governments are likely to engage the international community in terms that favour their regime survival over the stated objective of stabilising a conflict zone. Paradoxically, Somalia was able to conduct a relatively fair-and-free election in February 2017, while citizens in two Amisom-contributing nations were denied the same chance, all under the watch of the international community. In this context, the patron-client relationship between the ruling party and the military informs deployment of peacekeeping missions.

Peacekeeping operations become rent-generating ventures that benefit both the regime and the military while killing accountability.

Basically, rulers deploy their troops to peacekeeping zones that offer the highest dividends in terms of monetary rewards and regime protection. The ruling party acts as the patron that receives financial benefits, and then distributes it to the soldiers. In the process, the ruling party buys the loyalty of the military, and this increases the odds of regime survival.

Reports of KDF’s illicit trade in charcoal and sugar in the port of Kismayu have also led many to speculate whether KDF is in Somalia to benefit commercially. In November 2015, a Nairobi-based civil advocacy group named Journalists for Justice published an expose titled Black And White – Kenya’s Criminal Racket in Somalia that documented the illicit trading activities that KDF was engaging in while in control of the port of Kismayu. The Kenyan public was enraged, and calls for KDF to exit Somalia increased. However, KDF maintains that its mission in Somalia is critical and untainted with corruption.

Because the financial pay-outs are made monthly to the troop-contributing nation, it is regarded by the regime as rent paid for providing peacekeepers. In return, top military officials benefit from payouts, and they, in turn, ensure that the military remains loyal to the regime. As a consequence, such peacekeeping operations become rent-generating ventures that benefit both the regime and the military while killing accountability. Likewise, without any input from the citizenry, such regimes can conspire to ensure that their peacekeeping operations last for as long as possible.

Rarely do neopatrimonial powers ever relinquish power over their troops even when they are engaged in peacekeeping operations in foreign nations. This is what is happening to Amisom as the troop-contributing governments refuse to allow their peacekeepers to fall wholly under Amisom’s control; they ensure that they have direct military control over their peacekeepers, even if they fight under the Amisom hat. This also applies to KDF.

REGIME-BOOSTING DIVIDENDS

The Kenyan government’s decision to deploy KDF in Somalia was informed by three main concerns: national security concerns; humanitarian concerns; and the need for enhanced international legitimacy. Humanitarian concerns relate to Kenya’s plan to decongest, and eventually close, the Dadaab refugee camp and other camps hosting Somali refugees by repatriating refugees back to safe zones in Somalia. With regards to national security, Kenya had suffered from Somalia’s internecine conflict as it repeatedly spilled over into its bandit-prone north-eastern region, and by 2010, the threat of Al Shabaab radicalising Kenya’s restive Muslim population was too great to be wished away. A military campaign was then considered a feasible move. Still, was this military campaign planned well?

The answer to this question lies in the quality of military leadership. Starting from 2007, the political elite saw the need to hollow out the Kenyan military and recreate it as a dependable institution that can be relied upon during periods of crises. To achieve this, ethno-political considerations were prioritised over merit and competence. This removed the element of accountability that professional militaries value.

The decision of the Kenyan government to integrate KDF troops in Somalia into Amisom in July 2012 was informed by geopolitical concerns and economic reasons. By March 2012, Operation Linda Nchi had hemorrhaged the national coffers of over $180 million, and it was evident that the cost of managing a full-scale war against Al Shabaab in Somalia was quite prohibitive, if not unsustainable, especially as Kenya was suffering from low-grade economic recession occasioned by a difficult-to-manage inflation and a weak and unsteady currency.

Amisom suffers from structural fragmentation in its command chain and realm of control. There are zones where Amisom troops operate alongside non-integrated Ethiopian troops and these troops do not take orders from Amisom.

Kenya’s decision to stay on in Somalia under the umbrella of Amisom also has to do with national politics and the government’s desire to retain international legitimacy. Peacekeeping ventures offer lasting regime-boosting dividends. The governments of Burundi, Ethiopia and Uganda gained legitimacy from the international community, notably the European Union and the United States, because of their troop-contribution efforts towards Amisom. The US and the EU, two of the most vocal proponents of human rights and democracy, are also the main donors to the Amisom mission. Their silence on democracy matters is usually interpreted by autocratic regimes as tacit support for the government.

In both Uganda and Burundi, the ruling parties that oversaw the deployment of segments of their national military into Somalia were able to get controversially re-elected in what can best be described as sham elections, and still get their controversial electoral victories stamped as valid by both the US and the EU, despite concerns raised by democracy activists. Both nations have experienced periods of sustained domestic unrest and have used disproportionate force to either kill protestors, or coerce local democracy campaigners to abandon their activism.

Similar socio-political developments have been witnessed in Ethiopia. The ruling EPRDF (Ethiopian People’s Revolutionary Democratic Front) regime is accused of fomenting ethnic strife through skewed distribution of national resources and the concentration of political power within a clique of an ethnic-laced elite alliance. This has led to accusations of political marginalisation, human rights abuses, and forceful confiscation of land and other natural resources from underrepresented people.

Also, Ethiopia, despite a decade of sustained economic growth, also suffers from uneven economic development that has left a majority of Ethiopians impoverished and politically marginalised. These grievances led to the sudden eruption of mass protests in August 2016 that were followed by a six-month-long state of emergency in October (which has since been extended). To worsen matters, ethnic nationalism resurfaced, and has been stoked ever since by varied political activists.

When Ethiopia assessed that international condemnations against its protest management efforts were increasing, it simply withdrew hundreds of non-Amisom-integrated ENDF (Ethiopia National Defense Force) troops from Bakool and Hiiran regions of Somalia in October 2016. This withdrawal was done under the pretext that the soldiers were needed in Ethiopia to help manage the protests. However, the EPRDF had over 150,000 active ENDF troops at its disposal inside Ethiopia, and the troops withdrawn from Somalia were neither the best-trained nor the best-equipped. This shows that the pretext was used to cover up a more nuanced political motive. Interestingly, the withdrawal of these non-integrated soldiers immediately caused concern, with the UN stating that such withdrawals could create an exploitable security vacuum that could lead to the resurgence of Al Shabaab.

THE HUMAN COST

The above-mentioned problems also plague Kenya. Kenya is considered the most democratic nation in East and Central Africa and is also the economic powerhouse in the region. So why would the Kenyan regime need to enhance its political legitimacy?

Kenya sent KDF into Somalia with the thinly-veiled strategic objective of creating a Kenya-backed semi-autonomous administrative region called Jubbaland, which was to serve as a buffer zone between Kenya and Al Shabaab-ruled zones in southern Somalia. This buffer zone was considered essential to securing a new transport corridor that President Mwai Kibaki’s government was planning to build to link the Lamu port to South Sudan and Ethiopia. However, what was first touted as a short and quick military incursion has now lasted nearly seven years. Yet, the Kenyan public has not been told about how many Kenyan soldiers have lost their lives in Somalia since 2011.

The Kenyan government’s decision to deploy KDF in Somalia was informed by three main concerns: national security concerns; humanitarian concerns; and the need for enhanced international legitimacy.

In 2014, Operation Linda Nchi, Kenya’s Military Experience in Somalia was published by Kenya Literature Bureau, a state-owned publishing house. This book was written by six primary authors, among them Lieutenant Colonel Paul M. Njuguna, who was later promoted to colonel in August 2016, and served as the KDF spokesman when the KDF base at Kulbiyow was raided in January 27, 2017. The book provides the official KDF-approved version of Operation Linda Nchi. It also serves as an excellent window into the military doctrine that guides military operations vis-à-vis media relations and the publication of casualty figures. According to the book, KDF lost less than 40 soldiers during the entire period of Operation Linda Nchi.

This is a surprising figure especially when the fatality count of Amisom is taken into account. In May 2013, Jan Eliasson, the UN’s Deputy Secretary-General, estimated that 3,000 Amisom troops had been killed since 2007. Amisom quickly objected to this fatality figure, but it is interesting to note that in October 2012, Kenya’s deputy foreign minister, Richard Onyonka, claimed that about 2,700 Ugandan soldiers had been killed in Somalia since 2007. Even while this government official was touting the death toll suffered by an allied troop-contributing nation, the Kenyan government remained guarded on divulging how many Kenyan soldiers had been killed.

In January 2017, Al Shabaab raided a KDF base in Kulbiyow and made away with some military hardware. However, the KDF spokesman, Colonel Paul Njuguna, released a press statement stating that the base never fell and that KDF had managed to successfully repulse the attack, and in the process had lost only nine soldiers. However, subsequent open source analysis by Africa Defense Review showed that the base was overrun and looted.

According to a policy paper entitled Exit Strategy Challenges for the AU Mission in Somalia published in February 2016 by the Heritage Institute for Policy Studies, a Somalia-focused organization, and authored by Paul D. Williams and Abdirashid Hashi, KDF lost about 50 soldiers every month between October 2011 and February 2012. This translates to a death toll of more than 200 in five months, which is far greater that the death toll figures given by KDF in its official version of Operation Linda Nchi. In October 2016, the UN, through SEMG, revealed that about 150 KDF soldiers were killed in El Adde. These two figures give a hint as to the scale of the human cost of Kenya’s mission in Somalia.

So why does KDF conceal its death toll in Somalia? One of the official reasons given is the need to maintain the morale of the soldiers. But perhaps the main reasons are to minimise public opposition Kenya’s anti-terrorism campaigns both in Kenya and in Somalia and to gain political legitimacy internationally.

Amisom is rated as one of the deadliest peacekeeping missions, yet countries in the region are still eager to contribute troops. Why? One of the main reasons is that contributing troops to Amisom pays financial and political dividends. At the moment, it is evident that Uganda, Burundi and Ethiopia are leaning towards autocratic rule as democratic space gradually diminishes in these nations. The governments of these countries need to deflect attention away from their domestic problems and secure an economic lifeline during periods of economic crises triggered by domestic unrest. So they rely on Amisom for both economic reprieve and political legitimacy.

It is clear that the obfuscation of the death toll figures by the Kenyan government is designed to not only save face, but also to protect the credibility of Kenya as a strong regional peace-enforcer. If the Kenyan government admits to a high death toll, it will face domestic opposition to its mission in Somalia, and this will automatically weaken its legitimacy if it decides to use its Amisom credentials to stay in power after the August 2017 elections.




LEARNING FROM THE PAST: How to shore up the legitimacy of the 2017 Election

Elections are supposed to flip power relations. During an electoral process, a country’s political elites remember their fundamental jobs and are – more than ever – the servants of the people. While campaigns are ongoing, the elites need voters’ support, their attention…and most importantly, their votes. During this time, it is voters who can sit back and evaluate their leaders, deciding whether or not their actions are deserving of another term in office. Over the years and around the world, however, this power structure has often been reversed. In the quest to win and/or retain power, political elites have managed to shape the electoral process to their advantage, creating loopholes and amending laws that dilute public power.

PUBLIC CONFIDENCE IN THE KENYAN ELECTORAL PROCESS

Kenya is no exception to this rule, and voters have taken note. Over the past fifteen years, the Kenyan public’s confidence in elections has dropped precipitously. In fact, between 2005 and 2015, the proportion of Kenyans who strongly agreed that elections were the best way to choose leaders decreased by more than ten percentage points. Unsurprisingly, faith in the credibility of elections has also suffered. In fact, there has never been a time over the last three election cycles (including the current one) when a majority of Kenyans has felt that the last election was completely free and fair.

With the next general election in Kenya scheduled to take place in less than three months, it is critical to think about how to urgently address this marked dearth in voter confidence. An important first step is the assessment of potential vulnerabilities. Reflection about what went wrong last time and what is at risk of going wrong again is useful, not only for policymakers but also for voters, who can and should take time to critically assess whether or not their electoral processes prioritize their roles and voices.

There are, of course, many issues to consider. These include poorly enforced electoral laws, delayed timelines, the lack of intra-party democracy, incidents of pre-election violence, and shrinking space for vigorous public debate on the most contentious and timely election-related issues. At this stage in the electoral cycle, however, it is most urgent to focus attention on the factors that most significantly impacted the credibility of the last election and which continue to haunt this election cycle. Together, unresolved questions regarding leadership and integrity, the Independent Electoral and Boundaries Commission (IEBC), voter registration and the process of counting and tallying threaten the credibility of the upcoming elections.

LEADERSHIP AND INTEGRITY

To begin, the 2013 election was the first to take place under the guiding principles of the country’s new, internationally lauded constitution, itself the result of a decades-long struggle. The constitution included many new provisions that would have a bearing on elections, but one of the most fundamental, overarching issues concerned the qualifications for and conduct expected of state officers. Indeed, Chapter Six of the constitution, devoted to leadership and integrity, is groundbreaking in the context of Kenyan political history, confronting, as it does, some of the most longstanding and deeply embedded obstacles to good governance.

Over the past fifteen years, the Kenyan public’s confidence in elections has dropped precipitously. In fact, between 2005 and 2015, the proportion of Kenyans who strongly agreed that elections were the best way to choose leaders decreased by more than ten percentage points.

Chapter Six fundamentally shifted the relationship between state officers and the people, requiring the former to selflessly serve the latter. Despite the dramatic weakness of the Leadership and Integrity Act that was passed to operationalize Chapter Six provisions, the lead-up to election day in 2013 did include bold efforts to test the letter and spirit of the law. The most notable of these was a lawsuit filed by the International Center for Policy and Conflict and five others, which asked a deeply controversial question: were Uhuru Kenyatta and William Ruto in violation of Chapter Six standards, and therefore ineligible to run for office, based on the International Criminal Court’s indictments against them for their alleged commission of crimes against humanity in the aftermath of the 2007 election?

The High Court’s judgment was disappointing, leaving the public doubting that state institutions were in fact committed to the standards of the constitution. Although the Court claimed that it lacked jurisdiction on matters related to the presidential election, its judgment did define the standard of integrity required by a person seeking public office. According to the Court, such an office-seeker should be beyond reproach and should not have unresolved questions about his/her character and commitment to the national values in the constitution. On the other hand, however, it also ruled that there is a distinction between appointive and elective positions. For the latter, the Court was of the opinion that it is up to the voters to decide who to choose, based on candidates’ “honesty, rectitude, uprightness and scrupulousness.” After the judgment was handed down, a lawyer for the petitioners remarked, “Today marks the official death of one of the chapters in the constitution. That is Chapter Six.”

Uhuru and Ruto were thus free to run for office, and Kenyans were told that questions about their character related to the indictments against them were “a personal issue.”

More importantly, since the substantive issues of the case were never appealed to the Supreme Court, Kenyans were left with an electoral context that was marked by the severe limitations of the candidate pool. After all, the Court had not considered that by attempting to leave it up to voters to decide how strictly candidates should be judged with regard to factors of integrity, it could well be that voters ended up with little substantive choice. With no enforcement of Chapter Six provisions for elective office-seekers, voters could well be faced with a slate of candidates, all of whose characters were tainted by integrity-related problems. The ruling also made it clear that there was little political will to apply the leadership and integrity laws across the board, thus cementing the status quo of elite impunity.

Unsurprisingly, unresolved leadership and integrity issues continue to plague this electoral cycle. In 2016, PricewaterhouseCoopers conducted a survey on the prevalence of economic crimes in the world and found that Kenya topped the list of 78 countries in the study. A shocking one percent of the country’s national budget had been properly accounted for in the previous year. Theft and misappropriation was the most common type of crime. As of 2016, there were 17 MPs who had been charged in court for committing serious criminal offenses, including fraud, forgery, hate speech, rape, corruption and incitement to violence. At least 90 others were under suspicion for graft.

The public has noticed. When asked how much they trusted the ruling party, the opposition and MPs, Kenyans reported significantly low levels of confidence. 

Table 1: Trust in Parliament, the Ruling Party and Opposition Parties

Not at All Just a Little Somewhat A Lot Don’t Know
Parliament 14.7% 28.5% 36.4% 17.1% 3.2%
Ruling Party 16.3% 21.0% 31.1% 29.9% 1.6%
Opposition 21.8% 28.7% 31.1% 15.2% 3.1%

Source: Afrobarometer R6 2014/2015

 

Such findings are telling, and they are especially relevant in the context of upcoming elections. Given the lack of political will to seriously implement and enforce constitutional standards of integrity, the public has little reason to put its trust in the state, or in the electoral process. Without proper enforcement of Chapter Six provisions, voters’ choices are always restricted. Over time, such an environment can lead to increasingly low levels of public confidence. In the long run, this endangers democratic resilience.

In an attempt to address the gaps in Chapter Six enforcement, the IEBC recently convened what is known as the Chapter Six Working Group on Election Preparedness. The group, which includes several state institutions, plans to vet parties’ lists of nominated candidates to ensure that they adhere to the Attorney General’s recently published guidelines. It is unclear, however, what authority this group has to carry out its stated purpose, especially given that the Court’s ruling in the case against Uhuru and Ruto made it clear that the presumption of innocence holds until cases are concluded.

THE INDEPENDENT ELECTORAL AND BOUNDARIES COMMISSION

Closely linked to public confidence in elected leaders is trust in the body charged with administering elections, the Independent Electoral and Boundaries Commission (IEBC). In fact, one study found that public confidence in a country’s electoral management body (EMB) is tied to public faith in the credibility of the election. Specifically, in a paper on Nigerian elections, Nicholas Kerr found,

The strongest correlate of citizen’s perceptions of election quality is the performance of [Nigeria’s Independent National Electoral Commission (INEC)]…when citizens are highly satisfied with the performance of INEC, they are thirty-eight percent more likely to consider the 2007 elections free and fair… But even more importantly, it highlights that ordinary Nigerians associate their evaluations of EMB performance more with their assessments of election quality, despite how strong their partisan attachments may be.

In Kenya, public confidence in the IEBC has fluctuated dramatically over the last five years. At the end of 2012, surveys showed that 70 percent of Kenyans had faith that the IEBC was carrying out its work impartially and 72 percent believed in the Commission’s independence. One month before election day in 2013, 91 percent of respondents said that they had faith in the IEBC’s competence to manage the election and 89 percent believed in the Commission’s impartiality. 91 percent of respondents also said they believed the IEBC was independent enough to conduct the election in a free and fair manner.

These pre-2013 election levels of confidence were a high point for the Commission, which suffered from plummeting levels of public faith after the 2013 election. The drop in confidence was due to a combination of factors, the most notable of which included procurement delays and irregularities in the lead-up to election day, problems with technology during voter registration and on election day, the failure of the electronic results verification system and the subsequent delay in announcing the result. The Supreme Court case challenging the integrity of the entire process, filed by the Africa Centre for Open Governance (AfriCOG) and the Kenyan Asian Forum, also publicly highlighted the multiple technical and administrative problems throughout the process. Indeed, post-election polls revealed a precipitous drop in public confidence in the Commission. In the immediate aftermath of the election, 44 percent of Kenyans reported that they were confident in the IEBC. In Nyanza, only 8 percent of respondents felt this way. By 2015, the figures had not changed dramatically, with 43 percent of Kenyans reporting confidence in the IEBC. Among opposition supporters, 71 percent reported that they did not have confidence in the Commission.

After the judgment was handed down, a lawyer for the petitioners remarked, “Today marks the official death of one of the chapters in the constitution. That is Chapter Six.”

The IEBC has experienced significant changes since the 2013 election. Senior members of the Commission were implicated in a corruption scandal, and a series of opposition protests against the IEBC eventually resulted in the dismissal of all the commissioners. New commissioners assumed office in late December 2016.

The changes seem to have made some difference. A recent poll shows that 72 percent of respondents feel that the IEBC is prepared to conduct a free and fair election. On the other hand, Kenyans are also extremely cautious in their outlooks. In fact, in four of Kenya’s former provinces, more than 20 percent of the population is not sure that the Commission will be able to administer a credible election.

While the high level of public confidence is encouraging, the new IEBC stands at an important crossroads. In order to maintain public faith, the Commission will have to work to show Kenyans that it is serious about avoiding the mistakes that marred the last process and that it is willing to fight to maintain its independence. The signs so far are mixed. The Commission’s decision to cancel the tender process for election technology and engage in a direct award of the contract to the same firm that was partially responsible for the previous set of botched technology raises questions about how well the IEBC has learned from past mistakes. This is compounded by a more recent announcement that the IEBC may proceed with a direct award to a ballot-printing firm. Moreover, recent analysis of the last mass voter registration exercise has revealed serious administrative and technical irregularities. On the other hand, the Commission’s stated commitment to enforcing gender parity in party lists and to enforcing leadership and integrity standards in the vetting of candidates is admirable.

The IEBC is making certain attempts to keep the public updated. It does hold press conferences, and it regularly updates its website with relevant press releases. This information is useful, but the Commission must go further with regard to transparency if it wishes to maintain public confidence. There are several outstanding questions at this stage of the electoral process, the most urgent of which are related to procurement, voter registration, the ongoing audit of the voters’ register, the use of technology, and counting of results. If the IEBC begins to address some of these concerns, it could go a long way in preserving public faith, especially as it is likely that problems will continue to arise as election day gets closer. No election is perfect, but the IEBC’s honest evaluations of its strengths and weaknesses related to current concerns are critical.

VOTER REGISTRATION

In 2013, much of the public’s dissatisfaction with the IEBC was rooted in problems with the voters’ register. The register was shrouded in a certain amount of mystery, with the total number of registered voters in Kenya shifting throughout the electoral cycle. The first sign of the problems to come appeared in February 2013, when it became clear that the final, gazetted register differed significantly from the provisional register released in December 2012. Overall, the register had grown by 12,500 voters.

Without proper enforcement of Chapter Six provisions, voters’ choices are always restricted. Over time, such an environment can lead to increasingly low levels of public confidence. In the long run, this endangers democratic resilience.

While a decrease in the number of registered voters was expected (because the verification and cleaning process would expunge dead voters, multiple registrations, etc), it was unclear how the register grew in size between December 2012 and February 2013. Moreover, there were significant regional changes in the numbers between December and February. These are detailed in the table below.

Table 2: Internal Changes to the Register of Voters

Region Changes between December 2012 and February 2013
Coast +901
Nyanza -15,026
Central +1,848
Rift Valley +67,000
North Eastern +6,604
Western +2,938
Eastern +4,222
Nairobi -50,102

Source: AfriCOG/KPTJ. 2013. “Voter Registration for the 2013 General Elections in Kenya.”

 

These changes became more worrying when the IEBC could not commit to one total number of registered voters. In fact, there were at least six different totals announced during various parts of the electoral cycle.

Table 3: Shifting Totals of Registered Voters in Kenya

Provisional Register (December 2012) 14,340,036
Principle Register (February 2013) 14,352,545
Special Register (March 2, 2013) 36,236
Election Results Total (March 9, 2013) 14,352,533
Green Book Total 14,388,793
Post-Election Register (July 2013) 14,388,781

Source: AfriCOG/KPTJ. 2013. “Voter Registration for the 2013 General Elections in Kenya.”

 

This shifting total, in addition to the IEBC’s assertion that what was known as the “green book” (A green book is an unregulated, manually-recorded list of registered voters. It had been severely criticized by experts.) was being used for purposes of registration, severely compromised public confidence in the integrity of the register. Indeed, the lack of a single, verifiable register breeds suspicion about political influence at worst and basic incompetence of the electoral management body at best.

Doubts around the register have not faded. In fact, the IEBC’s two mass voter registration exercises in the current cycle were rife with problems. These included widespread problems obtaining IDs, problems with dysfunctional and nonfunctional biometric voter registration (BVR) kits, unexplained use of the green book, disorganized registration centres and poorly trained IEBC staff, registration bribery, coercive registration practices and massive amounts of transfers. At the end of these processes, the IEBC announced that the total number of registered voters had grown to 19,749,310, representing a 37 percent increase since 2013.

In the immediate aftermath of the election, 44 percent of Kenyans reported that they were confident in the IEBC. In Nyanza, only 8 percent of respondents felt this way. By 2015, the figures had not changed dramatically, with 43 percent of Kenyans reporting confidence in the IEBC. Among opposition supporters, 71 percent reported that they did not have confidence in the Commission.

The elections law also allows the IEBC to engage a professional firm to conduct an audit of the voters’ register. The stated purposes of such an audit are to verify the accuracy of the register, recommend mechanisms to enhance its accuracy and to update it. While an audit may go a long way in promoting public confidence in the register, the process has thus far been controversial. In addition to allegations that there were irregularities related to the decision to hire KPMG, there is mistrust because of the firm’s lack of expertise in conducting such audits. Indeed, KPMG’s proposed methodology does not reflect internationally accepted best practice for the audits of voters’ registers, and there has thus far been a lack of transparency with regard to KPMG’s progress and therefore its eventual findings.

In addition to these technical problems with registration, the legitimacy of the entire process was cast in doubt when it emerged that the IEBC had cancelled a public tender process for the acquisition of an integrated elections management system in order to give a direct award to a company known as Morpho, the same company that provided the problematic BVR kits in 2013.

The doubts that have arisen as a result of the above issues have been compounded by the IEBC’s refusal to make the register publicly accessible. In fact, the IEBC did not even provide the updated register to political parties during their primaries. The lack of the register made it impossible for parties to confirm that voters were in fact registered, and this contributed to the chaos that characterized the primary processes. The IEBC has also refused to give the data to civil society on the grounds that it cannot release it until after the audit is complete. Without access to the pre- and post-audit data, however, it is impossible for the public to conduct its own analyses and understand the changes.

A related issue is that of the integrated election management system (IEMS) itself. According to the IEBC, the system is meant to be wholly integrated, such that voter registration, voter identification and results transmission are linked. Since the IEMS technology did not arrive until well after the conclusion of registration, however, it is unclear how all the components will be linked, if at all.

ELECTION DAY, COUNTING AND TALLYING

Confidence is also, of course, based on the credibility of results announcements. In 2013, the IEBC used an electronic results transmission system, which was designed to allow polling station officers to transmit results to regional tallying centres and to IEBC headquarters in Nairobi via a secure, digital connection. This system was meant to protect the credibility of the count and prevent the kind of manipulation that had been seen in past elections, which often occurred during the time when tally sheets were being physically transported from polling stations around the country to Nairobi. Unfortunately, however, the system was a spectacular failure. Midway through the counting process, Kenyans watched the stream of live results freeze on television screens. Journalists based at the Bomas of Kenya, which was the national elections centre, referred to it as the Bomas screen saver.

When the electronic system failed, the IEBC again relied on the paper forms, which had to be ferried from all over the country to Nairobi. As expected, the paper forms were highly problematic. Issues with the polling station-level tallying forms (Forms 34) included:

  1. Many Form 34s showed that there were more votes cast than registered voters. In Turbo constituency, Polling Station 69, Stream 2, there were 784 votes cast but only 755 registered voters. In Polling Station 71, Stream 2, there were 741 votes cast but only 716 registered voters. In Kacheliba, Polling Station 112, there were 215 votes cast but only 214 registered voters.
  2. In some Form 34s, only some presidential candidates were listed. For example, in Baringo South, Polling Station 91, Stream 1, it was only the names of Uhuru Kenyatta, Raila Odinga and Paul Muite that appeared. Some candidates were also missing from Form 34 in Baringo South, Polling Station 68, Stream 1.
  3. Many of the figures on the form did not add up. For instance, one of the most glaring discrepancies occurred in Kacheliba constituency, Polling Station 102. Here, the votes cast are recorded as 0, while there are 170 rejected votes and 170 valid votes. In Baringo South, Polling Station 117, Stream 1, there were 133 valid votes and 0 rejected votes, which should total 133 votes cast. The figure for votes cast, however, was 134. In Cherangany, Polling Station 2, Stream 5, the number of valid votes is 332 and the number of rejected votes is 4, which adds up to 336 total votes cast. The number of votes cast, however, was 340. In Turkana North, Polling Station 12, the number of votes cast (340) did not equal the number of valid votes (340) plus the number of rejected votes (5).
  4. There were several instances of changes having been made to various figures on the form, with no authorizing signature next to the change. Such alterations affected individual candidates’ results, the total number of votes cast, the number of rejected votes, the number of valid votes and the number of registered voters. This change had the potential to affect other numbers on the form. For instance, a change to the number of rejected votes would necessarily change the number of total votes cast.
  5. In some forms, there was no figure indicating the number of registered voters. There was no official Form 34 for Polling Station 19 in Turkana Central. Instead, the results were reported on an ordinary piece of paper, which did not include the number of registered voters.
  6. Many Form 34s were missing. There was no Form 34 for Polling Station 84 or for Polling Station 99 in Turkana North. Polling Station 99 did not appear on the list of polling stations published on the IEBC website on February 24, 2013, but it did appear in the paper gazette. Forms 34 for Polling Stations 92 and 113 in Turkana Central were missing.
  7. Some forms did not include results for certain candidates. In Turkana Central, Polling Station 55, there were no results listed for Muite and Kenneth. In Turkana Central, Polling Station 65, there were no results listed for Kiyiapi, Karua, Dida, Muite and Mudavadi.
  8. There were non-identical duplicates of certain forms. In Turkana Central, Polling Station 89, there are 4 nearly identical copies of Form 34. It is unclear whether the numbers on these forms were counted multiple times. In Kacheliba, Polling Station 2, there were two forms with different entries. There were also multiple copies of perfectly identical forms, and it was unclear whether or not these figures were counted more than once.
  9. There were many forms in which it was extremely difficult to determine the exact value of the written figure, either because of the handwriting or because the original figure had been written over with another number. There were an overwhelming number of such cases, and the choice of which number to report was subjective.

The most worrying issues called the very accuracy of the count into question.

The failure of the electronic system was not a complete surprise. In the month before the 2013 election, tests of the electronic systems revealed significant problems. In fact, Sarah Elderkin detailed how a test of the system “had gone horribly wrong.” After one hour, only one of five mock polling stations could successfully transmit results. In this election cycle, the IEBC again plans to use an electronic system. The IEMS, mentioned above, includes results transmission. It is unclear, however, if and when the IEBC will publicly test the kits and publicly explain its plans for the kits’ dysfunction or failure. In fact, one of the most pressing unanswered questions in this cycle is related to proposed back up systems. New amendments to the electoral law allow for the use of complementary registration, identification and results transmission mechanisms, to be used in the event that the technology fails. To date, however, the election regulations only provide vague provisions about using the printed out register for voter identification in cases where voters cannot be found in the biometric list. The regulations do not clarify what, if any, complementary systems will be used in case the electronic results transmission system fails.

The lack of a clear definition of these complementary mechanisms is highly problematic, especially given Kenya’s political history and context. During mass voter registration, the IEBC used the green book in conjunction with the BVR kits. Does this mean that the green book was the complementary mechanism with regard to voter registration? Will the green book be used in addition to the printed out register to identify voters on election day?

Midway through the counting process, Kenyans watched the stream of live results freeze on television screens. Journalists based at the Bomas of Kenya, which was the national elections centre, referred to it as the Bomas screen saver.

There is one significant difference with regard to the law in the current election cycle. The High Court recently ruled that constituency level results for all elections are final and can only be appealed through a court process. The decision nullified Section 83(4) of the General Elections Regulations, which empowers the IEBC to “confirm” results before announcing them as final. The IEBC filed an appeal to the decision, with IEBC Chair Wafula Chebukati stating that constituency level officers could “make mistakes.” The IEBC’s decision to appeal has sparked some controversy, with the opposition threatening that there will be no election if the IEBC does not abandon its appeal and alleging that it means the Commission wants the power to unfairly change results. Civil society has also expressed its reservations about the appeal, suggesting that it erodes public confidence in the IEBC’s commitment to upholding the law.

Given the extreme controversy and suspicion surrounding the announcement of results in 2013 and in other past elections, the IEBC should acknowledge that there is significant public concern around the potential use of manual systems. To promote public faith, the IEBC should explain its rationale regarding the appeal. If constituency level results are erroneous, as Chebukati fears, a court process to address such problems would allow the public to see and understand the issues at hand. It would promote transparency. Surely, this option is better than a closed process in which the IEBC changes constituency results at the national tallying centre.

As it currently stands, it is unclear whether the IEBC and other stakeholders have learned from past elections. If public confidence is a priority, these stakeholders must immediately respond – at minimum – to the above public concerns in an honest and open way, remembering that it is voters who hold the power at this stage of the game, and it is voters who will ultimately decide the credibility of the election. The legitimacy of the upcoming election now hangs in the balance, but there is still time to save it…if only we are willing to learn from the past.




THE DEBACLE OF 2007: How Kenyan Politics Was Frozen and an Election Stolen with US Connivance

About 10 years ago, I was preparing to move with my family to Nairobi from the United States just as Kenya was well into the 2007 election campaign. Although I was taking up a temporary job in “democracy assistance” as the resident director for East Africa of the non-governmental International Republican Institute, I was told to expect limited duties specific to the upcoming election.

My job was to step in to manage the office and supervise a small set of ongoing programmes, primarily one involving the training of women and youth in skills to run for office. We were also wrapping up a programme for the State Department training Muslim women regionally for increased political participation and had an agreement with the United States Agency for International Development (USAid) to conduct polling that had started with an exit poll for the 2005 referendum. We had done a survey that spring and would finish the programme with a survey early that fall, before the presidential race went into the home stretch.

I was on six months’ “public service leave” from my job in the States as a lawyer for a Fortune 50 American defence contractor and had previously been a volunteer trainer for IRI in Mongolia late in the Clinton administration and an election observer in Kyrgyzstan in 2005. 

HITTING THE GROUND

My first week in Nairobi, I accompanied the consultant I was replacing to meet most of the presidential candidates to privately brief them on the results of our most recent opinion survey, our next to last in the programme. We also called on US ambassador Michael Ranneberger, who expressed his desire to have IRI observe the upcoming election, which my predecessor had been telling me Ranneberger wanted. Any plans for such an observation mission had been disclaimed in Washington the week before, and I had trouble getting anyone back in the home office to take the idea seriously, as they confirmed with USAid that an observation mission was not in the works.

The paperwork with USAid for our public opinion and exit poll programme from 2005 unsurprisingly expressed the agency’s concern about the negative trends that had materialised from the seemingly promising democratic breakthrough in the 2002 vote

In preparing for my democracy assistance posting, I had naturally read up on the stillbirth of the promised constitutional reform in the failed “Wako Draft” constitution following the 2002 “Rainbow Coalition” leading to the rise of the Orange Democratic Movement and Kibaki’s purge of his erstwhile anti-Moi allies of the 2002 opposition. I also read up on the recent scandals. Of particular concern, of course, were the Anglo Leasing scams involving corruption in important national security acquisitions revealed by John Githongo who was subsequently blocked from carrying forward as “Anti-Corruption Czar” in the Kibaki administration and went into exile in London. Then there was the 2006 raid, only a year old then, on the Standard newspaper and the KTN television studios, which evoked the “bad old days” of single-party rule and a tightly controlled press and drew condemnation from the diplomatic community, including the US ambassador at the time, Mark Bellamy. The related “Armenian Brothers” circus made Kenya’s security operations look profoundly compromised by criminals. The paperwork with USAid for our public opinion and exit poll programme from 2005 unsurprisingly expressed the agency’s concern about the negative trends that had materialised from the seemingly promising democratic breakthrough in the 2002 vote in which opposition politicians united to support Kibaki against Moi’s choice of his predecessor Kenyatta’s unheralded son Uhuru.

THE AMBASSADOR WAS SURPRISINGLY UPBEAT

Given this background, I was surprised to find Ranneberger seemingly quite upbeat about the state of things under Kibaki as the campaign started to jell for the upcoming election. He made it clear that he wanted IRI to conduct a blue ribbon election observation mission to feature an “African success story.”

My first public event at the embassy residence in the posh Muthaiga neighbourhood was the US Independence Day celebration. The guests of honour were internal security minister John Michuki, representing President Kibaki, and Uhuru Kenyatta, as “the leader of the official opposition.” Michuki featured in my mind for taking credit for the infamous Standard raid on behalf of Kibaki, saying to the media house, “If you rattle a snake, you should expect to be bitten.” “Retired” president Moi, although not in the official receiving line, planted himself front and centre to prominently greet guests. Michuki spoke about his recent “security co-operation” visit to the United States. Vice president Moody Awori was also introduced, but Michuki rather than Awori represented Kibaki.

So the diplomatic tenor had changed for some reason, at least in the approach of the ambassador, who had arrived in mid-2006, although I was perhaps slower than I should have been in fully appreciating the difficulties this would entail for me as an NGO worker engaged in democracy assistance, especially faced with an assertive ambassador who did not formally control our USAid agreement out of Washington, which at the time still involved only the polling and was scheduled to wrap up with a survey in September. 

PROCEEDING TOWARDS DISASTER

In August, our office had a distinguished visitor from our board of directors, the late ambassador Richard Williamson, an especially well liked senior figure within IRI. “Rich” took the occasion to visit our Kenya programme while waiting in Nairobi for his visa to Khartoum to travel on to Juba in Southern Sudan. President Bush was to announce his appointment soon as his new Special Envoy to Sudan and we used the time to take him to meet Raila and Kalonzo as the ODM and ODM-K leaders along with a minister or two, and called on ambassador Ranneberger. Ranneberger again said that he wanted IRI to observe the election. Based on this, Rich was persuaded that we would be doing an observation and afterwards we proceeded to discuss who should be recruited as lead delegate. Rich and my boss who had come out from Washington with him arrived at the idea of Lloyd Pierson, a former IRI Africa director who had been the immediate past USAid assistant administrator for Africa. When I pointed out that I recalled seeing a favourable quote by Pierson in one of Raila’s campaign brochures, that idea was nixed. Neither of them had other specific suggestions at the time.

By October the surveys were showing what I sensed to be the conditions ‘on the ground’ — the opposition under the Orange Democratic Movement had put together in its six-member Pentagon’ a broad enough multi-ethnic coalition, building upon the momentum from the unrequited reformist sentiments from 2002, to have a plurality in a divided electorate

Following up afterwards with the USAid Mission, they now said they would “move heaven and earth” to meet the ambassador’s wish to fund an election observation mission. Likewise, USAid wanted to extend our polling programme — which started with the exit poll for the 2005 Constitutional Referendum — with an exit poll for the 2007 election. Although I knew that the ambassador was expressing confidence in “an African success story,” expecting a “free and fair” election, and expecting Kibaki to win, USAid told me that the intent of the exit poll, as with the one we had done in 2002, and on this contract in 2005, was among other things to deter election fraud and this was confirmed in our amended agreement.

To cut a long story short, by October the surveys were showing what I sensed to be the conditions “on the ground” — the opposition under the Orange Democratic Movement in the form now of the ODM Party had put together in its six-member “Pentagon” a broad enough multi-ethnic coalition, building upon the momentum from the unrequited reformist sentiments from 2002 and the successful blocking of the insufficient Wako Draft, to have a plurality in a divided electorate. Kibaki was very slow to assent to the start of his re-election campaign and conveyed a vibe that it was beneath him to do such “retail politics.” Formally, Kibaki was the Member of Parliament for Othaya from the Democratic Party, his vehicle since Moi gave in to pressure from activists and politicians like Odinga to allow non-Kanu parties in 1992. Kibaki had not seemed to want to run as a DP candidate, nor was he willing ultimately to join NARC-Kenya, whose leaders considered themselves the rightful heirs to the 2002 NARC vehicle. The NARC party papers themselves were controlled by Charity Ngilu, a 1997 presidential candidate herself who departed to become the sixth member of the ODM Pentagon. Eventually, Kibaki gave the nod to a new hybrid formation as a re-election vehicle, the Party of National Unity, PNU, both a party through which Kibaki sought re-election to the Othaya seat, and a coalition of various parties associated with politicians in ethnic groups — in other words, a gambit to match up and compete with the regional/ethnic Pentagon.

According to a report published by the US Congressional Research Service in February 2008, during the post-election crisis, by the early fall of 2007, Kibaki’s key aides were admitting to their analyst that Kibaki was not going to win the vote. This was supported by the surveys showing a persistent opposition lead. Unlike today, the election then retained the “first past the post” system that had allowed Moi to claim re-election with 40% or less of the vote, officially, in 1992 and 1997. Odinga was consistently polling well shy of a majority but ahead of Moi’s 1992 and 1997 numbers, with Kibaki trailing by a few points. As the election date closed in, the race tightened a bit, but the scenario did not reverse, and then ODM opened up a bit more of a lead. Although at the last minute the Gallup organisation of the US came in and did a late poll showing Kibaki trailing by only two points in the national vote – this was trumpeted by Ranneberger as showing the race as “too close to call” – the firms regularly polling the race continued to show Kibaki trailing beyond the margin of error. This included both the reputable Steadman and Strategic pollsters that had had a long relationship with the USAid IRI programme dating back to its inception in the 1990s, including the exit polls from 2002, 2005 and again for 2007.

According to a report published by the US Congressional Research Service in February 2008, during the post-election crisis, by the early fall of 2007, Kibaki’s key aides were admitting to their analyst that Kibaki was not going to win the vote

POLL OBSERVATION ON A SHOESTRING

When we got the agreement from USAid for the election observation, funded at a shoestring amount at the end of the fiscal year, USAid had included descriptions by prior job description of various individuals that the ambassador had mentioned previously that he wanted to have invited. These IRI ignored in preparing for our independent observation as an NGO subject to an international code of conduct for independent election observation. As USAid’s right to “substantial participation” in return for their funding, the agreement stipulated its approval of IRI’s “lead delegate/s,” and it repeated the ambassador’s desire for former assistant secretaries of state Chester Crocker and Connie Newman. Ranneberger had worked under Crocker on Angola issues during the Cold War and Newman had served briefly in that role in the first George W. Bush administration, during which time Ranneberger had been her deputy. IRI disagreed with USAid’s right to approval of this appointment as a violation of our independence but did invite Crocker and Newman. Crocker was unavailable but Newman, also an IRI board member, accepted. IRI also invited former ambassadors to Kenya Johnnie Carson and Mark Bellamy. Ranneberger in a call to me well ahead of the election had said that Carson “would not be a good idea,” and that Bellamy should not be included as he was “considered to be anti-government.”

Carson, who was at the time serving as the Africa director for the Office of the Director of National Intelligence had to decline, whereas Bellamy was scheduled to participate. On Thursday, December13, 2007, two weeks before the election, I got a call from USAid and was asked to fax our final delegation list — due to be released from IRI in Washington that day – to a number for the ambassador. After sending the fax, I was driving to lunch with my wife and a friend, the spouse of another US NGO worker who had been a Carter Centre election observer in another recent African election and had volunteered to help. I received a call from the ambassador who loudly chewed me out to the point that I had to pull over and step out on the roadside. Ranneberger was incensed that we had Bellamy on the list, and said that he was “laying down a marker” that this was not to happen. He said he did not want to hear that it was a decision from my Washington office as he was holding me “personally responsible as the person on the ground.” If we did not drop Bellamy he would pull the funding for the observation mission, adding that I should not doubt that he could do this.

Arriving in Dagoretti for lunch, I phoned Washington and my USAid contact in Nairobi. Long story short, IRI’s president at the time, who had been assistant secretary of state for democracy, human rights and labour himself during the first G.W. Bush Administration, called then assistant secretary of state Jendayi Frazer to tell her, as he reported, “to get her ambassador under control,” then, on arriving in Thailand for Christmas and Burma meetings, called Ranneberger directly. As a result, I was told to expect that Ranneberger would ask to meet me, and that Bellamy was reluctantly dropped (with a cover story that IRI was not able to secure his plane ticket) but that I was to accept “no more BS” from the ambassador.

The next day, as I was leaving the polling firm, I got a call asking me to come meet the ambassador at his residence the next afternoon. So on Saturday afternoon, December 15, 2007, I drove to the embassy residence in Muthaiga. As it turned out, the purpose of the meeting was more substantive than just smoothing things over after the arm-twisting on Bellamy. I will explain a couple of salient points from this meeting that remain to me significant in trying to learn what happened with the election 12 days later.

I received a call from the ambassador who loudly chewed me out to the point that I had to pull over and step out on the roadside. Ranneberger was incensed that we had Bellamy on the observer mission list, and said that he was “laying down a marker” that this was not to happen. He said he did not want to hear that it was a decision from my Washington office

To start, Ranneberger elaborated on the importance of removing Bellamy from the delegation because of the notion that he was perceived as “anti-government,” obviously meaning anti the Kibaki administration. When Ranneberger had originally raised this objection as Bellamy earlier in the month, I had asked for input from our Kenyan programme staff who reported that this did not seem to be Bellamy’s general reputation in Kenya and IRI staff had checked this with State Department contacts in Washington and found no support for that view there either.

Ranneberger did let me know that he knew what Bellamy had been told about why he had been dropped from the delegation. In other words, he was letting me know, without taking responsibility for the situation himself, that he knew that “we” at IRI had lied to Bellamy. IRI was in a difficult situation not of our making on Bellamy; would we cancel the election observation (as the only international NGO scheduled to observe, this would raise lots of questions we could not answer) or let the ambassador interfere with our delegation? Regardless, once the directive from the top was given to lie to Bellamy about why he was off the list, IRI no longer had completely clean hands.

Another thing in particular stands out now from that meeting in light of what I later learned through Freedom of Information Act requests to the State Department after I returned to the US.

The ambassador told me that Saturday that “people are saying” that Raila Odinga, ahead in the polls for president as the vote was nearing, could lose his own Langata parliamentary constituency (which under the existing system would disqualify him from becoming president even if he got the most votes nationally). This was “out of the blue” for me because I certainly was not aware of anyone who thought that. Odinga’s PNU opponent Stanley Livando had made a big splash and spent substantial money when he first announced his candidacy, but he had not seemed to get obvious traction in the race. Naturally, I wondered who the “people” Ranneberger was referring to were. Ranneberger said that a Raila loss in Langata would be “explosive” and that he wanted to take Ms Newman with him to observe voting there on election day.

Ranneberger also went on to say that he wanted to take Ms Newman separately to meet with Kibaki’s State House advisor Stanley Murage on the day before the election, with no explanation offered as to why. I reported all this by e-mail to Washington.

Ranneberger in Nairobi made no disclosure of what he had witnessed but encouraged Kenyans to accept the results announced by the ECK that Sunday and formal congratulations were issued from a State Department spokesman back in the US

Alarm bells went off at IRI’s Washington headquarters when they received my e-mail. I noted Murage’s reputation as “Kibaki’s Karl Rove” (he was also referred to by a former diplomat as “Kibaki’s bagman”). After people were back in the office that Monday, I was called by the top executives present in Washington (in the absence of the then-president in Thailand) in the wee hours of the morning my time. I was instructed that it was imperative that the private meeting with Murage – “absolutely improper” – not take place. Connie was to stay with the rest of the delegation and not go off separately with the ambassador on election day or otherwise. I was given the option to “pull the plug” on the observation mission based on the concerns about Ranneberger’s approach. The ambassador, rather than either IRI or USAid, had initiated the observation mission in the first place, and IRI was heavily occupied with other, larger observations. Nonetheless, based on assurances that Ms Newman would be fully “on board” in our agreement, that she would steer clear of separate interaction with the ambassador and that the Murage meeting would not happen, and my belief that it would be an “incident” in its own right to cancel the observation, we agreed to go forward with precautions.

A SEPARATE LAST-MINUTE POLL OF THE LANGATA PARLIAMENTARY RACE

I got the idea of commissioning a separate last-minute poll of the Langata parliamentary race. I thought that the notion that Livondo would beat Odinga in Langata seemed farfetched, but objective data from before the vote could prove important. I also made sure that we scheduled an “oversample” for Langata for the national exit poll so that we would have a statistically valid measure of the actual election day results in the parliamentary race.

On to the Freedom of Information releases: On Tuesday, December 18, a Ranneberger cable went to the Secretary of State entitled “Kenya Elections: State of Play on Election.” This cable says nothing about the “explosive” Langata parliamentary race issue that Ranneberger had raised with me on Saturday, three days earlier. It concludes: “Given the closeness of the election contest, the perceived legitimacy of the election outcome could determine whether the losing side accepts the results with minimal disturbances. Our staff’s commendable response to the call for volunteers over the Christmas holiday allows us to deploy teams to all sections of the country, providing a representative view of the vote as a whole. In addition, our decision to host the joint observation control room will provide much greater access to real-time information; allowing a more comprehensive analysis of the election process.”

Next, we have a cable from Christmas Eve, December 24, three days before the election. First thing that morning, the IRI observation delegates were briefed on the election by a top Ranneberger aide. I told him then that we had commissioned the separate Langata poll. He said that the ambassador would be very interested, and I agreed to bring results with me to the embassy residence that evening when the ambassador hosted a reception for the delegation. The results showed Odinga winning by more than two-to-one.

In this cable from the day he learned about our Langata poll, unlike the one on December 18, Ranneberger added a discussion of the Langata race:

“11. We have credible reports that some within the Kibaki camp could be trying to orchestrate a defeat of Odinga in his constituency of Langata, which includes the huge slum of Kibera. This could involve some combination of causing disorder in order to disenfranchise some of his supporters and/or bringing in double-registered Kikuyu supporters of the PNU’s candidate from outside. To be elected president, a candidate must fulfil three conditions: Have a plurality of the popular vote; have at least 25% in 5 of the 8 provinces; and be an elected Member of Parliament. Thus, defeat of Odinga in his constituency is a tempting silver bullet. The ambassador, as well as the UK and German ambassadors, will observe in the Langata constituency. If Odinga were to lose Langata, Kibaki would become president if he has the next highest vote total and 25% in 5 provinces (both candidates will likely meet the 25% rule).

12. The outside chance that widespread fraud in the election process could force us to call into question the result would be enormously damaging to US interests. We hold Kenya up as a democratic model not only for the continent, but for the developing world, and we have a vast partnership with this country on key issues ranging from efforts against HIV/Aids, to collaboration on Somalia and Sudan, to priority anti-terrorism activities.

. . .

14. As long as the electoral process is credible, the US-Kenya partnership will continue to grow and serve mutual interests regardless of who is elected. While Kibaki has a proven track record with us, Odinga is also a friend of the US . . .

15. It is likely that the winner will schedule a quick inauguration (consistent with past practice) to bless the result and, potentially, to forestall any serious challenge to the results. There is no credible mechanism to challenge the results, hence likely recourse to the streets if the result is questionable. The courts are both inefficient and corrupt. Pronouncements by the Chairman of the Electoral Commission and observers, particularly from the US, will therefore have be [sic] crucial in helping shape the judgement of the Kenyan people. With an 87% approval rating in Kenya, our statements are closely watched and respected. I feel that we are well-prepared to meet this large responsibility and, in the process, to advance US interests.” END

None of this material about a possible scheme to steal the election in Langata — or the notion that being “forced” to question the election result would be “enormously damaging to US interests” was mentioned in the briefing to the observation delegation or to me that Christmas Eve. Weeks after the election, the Standard newspaper ran a piece reporting that the original plan of the Kibaki camp had been to rig the Langata parliamentary race, but at the last minute a switch was made to change the votes at the central tally, supposedly on the basis of the strength of early returns for Odinga in Western and Rift Valley Provinces.

Ultimately, the election resulted in disaster, with at least 1,200 killed and half a million displaced in post-election violence after open rigging.

The Electoral Commission of Kenya had voted earlier in December, according to the subsequent report of the Kreigler Commission, not to use laptop computers that had been purchased as a key feature of the USAid-funded election assistance effort through the International Foundation for Electoral Systems. This decision was never explained and without the computers there was no way to quickly get verifiable results from the voting stations quickly to Nairobi.

The reality of the process was explained to me by a Member of Parliament during the post-election violence (PEV). He said that weeks before the election, when Kibaki had broken the crucial precedent first negotiated between the opposition and Moi back in 1997 to split the authority to appoint members of the Electoral Commission and unilaterally stacked the Commission with 19 of his own choices in the 21 spots, the political players recognised that the process was going to be a no-holds-barred scramble for power and all bets were off on rules.

Also that January, during the PEV, a third-country diplomat explained to me privately that his country had learned that ECK returning officers in key locations had been paid “life changing” amounts of money to turn off their cellphones and drop out of contract with Nairobi so that the vote totals under their jurisdiction could be “marked up” in Nairobi to increase the president’s votes for re-election (consistent with what Ranneberger described in his then-classified January 2, 2008 cable as discussed below). This diplomat explained that his country had discovered the bribery too late, supposedly, to do anything about it. One possible reason for the alleged bribery to be discovered so late would be that the scheme to mark up the central tallies was a last minute substitute for the “credibly reported” Langata scheme Ranneberger mentioned in his Washington cable of December 24 and his meeting with me on December 15.

I expected that the president’s men would learn that IRI had also undertaken the special poll of the Langata Constituency. After the stacking of the ECK, another fateful turning point seems to me to have been the deployment by the president’s re-election team of the Administration Police in the days before the vote. This was something we all witnessed on live television thanks to broadcast reporting from KTN, but which the government denied. The ambassador’s aide confirmed to our observation delegation that this deployment was in fact a use of government security resources for the president’s re-election. Two of the deployed AP officers were killed by mobs and it seems that the atmosphere of a physical power struggle rather than a contest of democratic persuasion ratcheted up that much more at that point.

The fact is that I never have been able to identify a time when Kibaki actually said in public during my time “on the ground” that he was actually willing to entertain losing the election and giving up office in favour of the opposition. Eventually, shortly before the vote, his foreign minister, Moses Wetangula (now in the opposition) said that such a willingness was there, but he seemed to be conspicuously speaking to foreign diplomats rather than to ordinary Kenyans. To this day, no incumbent president in Kenya has ever been found by election officials to have lost a re-election bid.

DONOR VS. DONOR: THE UNITED STATES AND THE EUROPEANS SPLIT

On Wednesday, January 2, 2008, Ranneberger cabled Washington about witnessing with the head of the EU Election Observation Mission, Alexander Graf Lambsdorf, the changing of the vote tallies at the ECK headquarters over the weekend before, leading to the announcement of a Kibaki win on the evening of Sunday, December 30, 2007. The cable, which was declassified and released to me in redacted form through the Freedom of Information Act, reports “[M]uch can happen between the casting of votes and the final tabulation of ballots, and it did.”

The ECK’s partial review of the irregularities was also of questionable credibility, given that all of the commission members were appointed by the Kibaki government, and a number of them were suspected of being clearly biased and/or involved in doctoring at ECK headquarters. The Chairman of the ECK, Samuel Kivuitu, who was widely respected, was surrounded by staff of uncertain reliability and competence. It is worth noting that parliamentary results were not disputed because they were tabulated and announced at constituency tabulation centres, thus allowing no interference at ECK headquarters.

Presidential results by polling station never were published. The suppressed media reporting of the election results that disappeared with Michuki’s broadcast ban did not resurface except for the admission by the owner of the Citizen network in parliament in December 2016 that the numbers had indicated an Odinga win

Kivuitu had only limited authority as head of the ECK. The ECK worked on a majority vote system. It is also important to note that the ECK was required by law to announce the results as received from the tabulation centres. Some obvious irregularities like reporting unrealistically high turnout or clearly altered results could be rejected. There was, however, only a rejection of the results in one constituency in which violence resulted in destroyed ballots. Other alleged irregularities, such as announcing results that ECK personnel personally inflated, should have been, could have been, but were not corrected. At one point Kivuitu told me that his concerns about the tabulation process were serious enough that “if it were up to me, I would not announce the results.” In the end, he participated with other commissioners in an announcement late on December 30.

My team and I, as well as the head of the EU observer mission, were at the ECK vote tabulation centre throughout the tabulation process, and aggressively intervened with Kivuitu and other commissioners and staff to work for transparency. Our judgement is that the tabulation process was seriously flawed but, without having direct access to polling station numbers and doing a polling-station based recount, it is impossible to determine which candidate actually received the most votes. We had consistently predicted a close election. There were accusations of serious irregularities with respect to about 20% of the 210 constituencies. Some ECK insiders have alleged that the purpose of the delay in announcing the results in some of the constituencies was to determine the true count and then rejig it in such a manner as to make up for gaps in the votes for Kibaki.

Announced results differed from results initially received by ECK from the tally centres. We have seen documents that illustrate this. In a close election, with Kibaki winning by about 230,000 votes, such irregularities may have been enough to make a difference.

Nonetheless, Ranneberger in Nairobi made no disclosure of what he had witnessed but encouraged Kenyans to accept the results announced by the ECK that Sunday and formal congratulations were issued from a State Department spokesman back in the US. Live broadcasting was shut down by order of Michuki. Eventually, I received on appeal of a FOI Act request originally from 2009 a copy of a document prepared by the State Department in Washington as “talking points” for the media on election day itself that “spins” an acceptance of an announcement of a Kibaki win with opposition objections.

European foreign ministries and diplomats in the meantime criticised what was obviously a highly irregular process with the suspect tallies and the hurried, secretive swearing-in of Kibaki. On Monday, the State Department changed position through its main spokesman in Washington, saying that “we are not congratulating anyone.” On Tuesday, New Year’s Day, the EU observation mission held a press conference and released its preliminary report, making clear that the election process had fallen “far short of key regional and international standards for democratic elections. Most significantly, they were marred by the lack of transparency in processing and tabulating presidential results, which raises concern about the accuracy of the final result in this election.” The EU observers and other Europeans called for remedial measures, including an immediate independent investigation and audit, with all results openly published. Ranneberger, however, instead of supporting the European calls for remedial action, was immediately promoting “power sharing” for Odinga with Kibaki instead.

The EU seemed to switch positions and come around to support the State Department’s posture, abandoning remediation in favour of “power sharing.” In that time of heightened sensitivity, trying to decipher what was happening, I tied this contemporaneously to reports that secretary of state Condoleezza Rice called EU head diplomat Javier Solano on Thursday, January 3. My 2009 FOI Act request for documents related to that call identified that there was such a document but it was classified and remained too sensitive to release in any form at all. I appealed to no avail, and then last year submitted a request for Mandatory Declassification Review, which was also denied on the same grounds. My latest appeal of that decision has been pending for a few months now.

Many years later, a former senior diplomat was willing to tell me that the US policy was not to assist Kibaki over Raila, and that the US expected consistent relations going forward either way — which fits with the pre-election Nairobi to Washington cables I had got from FOI — but that the policy was to support whatever the ECK announced. A blunter take on what Ranneberger claimed in his cable of December 18, that it would somehow damage US interests if we were “forced” to question the ECK’s results. Assuming it to be true that the State Department was going to back whatever the ECK announced regardless, it was unlucky for me that no one told me about this before the election, as I surely would have taken the opportunity to cancel the IRI election observation mission since the State Department was not supporting the democracy assistance purposes of our agreement with USAid in working for free elections and observing independently in order to, among other things, oppose fraud.

EXIT POLL TOO HOT A POTATO

This policy would also suggest a reason that the exit poll that we conducted for USAid, which indicated a win for Odinga rather than Kibaki, was such a “hot potato” that it was held without public comment by IRI until a statement of January 15, responding to leaks of the results, that the poll was “likely invalid”, then on February 7, after it became a topic of inquiry in a US Senate hearing, definitely “invalid,” then released as valid in August, the day before the experts from the University of California, San Diego who had been heavily involved in the poll design and execution were to testify about it to the Kreigler Commission, having released it themselves in July after a six-month embargo imposed in their consulting contract with IRI.

Ranneberger insisted, though USAid, over my objection, on getting preliminary results of the exit poll on the afternoon of the voting before the polls closed, but clearly did not want the results released to the public as the other exit polls for USAid had been. Ranneberger answered questions from Kenyans and others in an online State Department Q&A on March 12, 2008 while the exit poll was still officially “invalid” and claimed that the poll had just been a “capacity building programme” and never intended to be released.

The USAid contract documents, which I of course had myself and of which I also obtained copies of through FOIA, show the contrary, and I also got a copy of the plan for public release by IRI of the first poll under that agreement, the exit poll from the 2005 Wako Draft referendum. If the State Department policy was to affirm whatever the ECK decided, the exit poll with a contradictory result was decidedly inconvenient.

I did not get anything about this from my FOIA requests, but in the fall of 2010, Daily Nation ran a story reporting that Wikileaks had published documents indicating that three members of the ECK itself had been slapped with “visa bans” by the United States in February 2008 on the basis of evidence that they had accepted bribes. Although Ranneberger had tweeted that former Attorney General Wako was subject to a visa ban at some point, nothing has ever been said publicly by the State Department to my knowledge about the ECK bribery issue.

At the end of the day, Kibaki stayed in office throughout for his second full term. On February 28, he signed his deal with Odinga for “power sharing,” against the active resistance of many on his side. From his unilateral Cabinet appointments of January 8, Kalonzo Musyoka stayed on as vice president and Uhuru Kenyatta was promoted to deputy prime minister from local government minister when the Cabinet was expanded to include various opposition figures in the “Government of National Unity,” including Odinga as prime minister and his running mate Musalia Mudavadi as the other deputy prime minister. Of the two lions who faced off at the Kenyatta International Conference Centre as the drama over the late and missing election returns played out, Martha Karua stayed on for a time as justice minister before resigning, and agriculture minister William Ruto realigned politically after he came under fire over corruption allegations, as well as the ICC charges for the PEV that also stuck to Kenyatta.

THE POLITICIANS FORGIVE THEMSELVES

Collectively, Kenya’s leading politicians agreed to forgive themselves for the election fraud, and for the post-election murder and mayhem. The Kreigler Commission made recommendations for the future, but stayed off the crucial machinations at the ECK. Presidential results by polling station never were published. The suppressed media reporting of the election results that disappeared with Michuki’s broadcast ban did not resurface except for the admission of the owner of the Citizen network in parliament in December 2016 that the numbers had indicated an Odinga win. With much shuttle diplomacy and artful stonewalling of requests for phone, banking and property records — along with a lot of extraordinary misfortune and changes of heart by witnesses, the ICC was thwarted and no local tribunal ever convened to address the violence.

Early during my time in Kenya, Moi and Kibaki made up after their 2002 rift, with Kibaki appointing Moi as his envoy for the Sudan/Southern Sudan negotiations and Moi endorsing Kibaki’s re-election. For 2013, Kibaki completed what had been Moi’s original intention of handing off to Uhuru Kenyatta from 2002, with Ruto back in the fold after his brief time in opposition in 2007-08. Again, in 2013, USAid financed a results transmission system for the electoral commission through IFES. The procurement was botched and the system was not workable, but rather than being shelved from the outset it was set up and used initially to show up on a big screen at Bomas of Kenya some partial results indicating a large lead for Kenyatta before being shut down.

Weeks after the election, the Standard newspaper ran a piece reporting that the original plan of the Kibaki camp had been to rig the Langata parliamentary race, but at the last minute a switch was made to change the votes at the central tally

Without knowing the background of the botched procurement, “experts” told the media this slice of results indicated a “commanding lead” for the Uhuruto ticket from the onset.

The local civil society think tank AfriCOG (disclosure: I consulted briefly with AfriCOG on “observing the election observers”) petitioned the High Court to enjoin the electoral commission from announcing “final” results with the results transmission system shut down but was turned down on jurisdictional grounds, even though the High Court found the petition to raise significant questions. In the absence of the legally prescribed system to transmit the results to Nairobi, there was once again physical drama at the central headquarters, with observers excluded and no backup system in place to obtain verified results from each polling station — the only location where the paper ballots are counted.

Once again, observers were excluded as noted in the final reports of the Carter Centre and Election Observation Group (ELOG) funded by the donors as international and domestic observations respectively. The electoral commission announced final results six days after the vote, with a day to spare on the deadline, even without all the polling station results. Coincidentally, I am sure, the Uhuruto ticket was determined to have .07% more votes than needed to avoid a runoff. The Supreme Court held a truncated hearing quickly following the election, consolidating the challenges to the electoral commission by AfriCOG and by the opposition. The court excluded much of the evidence submitted by the opposition and ignored much of that submitted by AfriCOG; it ordered a recount of votes from a sampling of boxes, but then went ahead and ruled, declining to upset the announced commission verdict without the limited recount being completed and in spite of the fact that significant discrepancies materialised.

Significantly, the Supreme Court found that the botched procurements of key technology, the results transmission system and voter registration and identification systems, smacked of fraud and ordered that they be investigated on that basis. A mere ruling by the Supreme Court was not enough to actually prompt any such investigation in Kenya, unfortunately. Months went by without publication of alleged election results and the electoral commission even refused to testify to parliament. What was eventually published later was incomplete. The electoral commission members were eventually swapped out once again, early this year, after the opposition was willing to expend a small number of lives to protest the inaction of the incumbent government in regard to issues that now included convictions in the UK for bribes paid to Kenyan election and education officials in the scandal known as “Chickengate.” Like the old ECK, the members of the commission were bought out rather than fired, and of course there has been impunity for the bribery even though it was proven in court in the UK.

HERE WE GO AGAIN

So here we are again, in 2017, and I am waiting for answers to my questions as to who is paying for the acquisition of this year’s version of the results transmission system, the so-called Kenya Integrated Election Management System, or KIEMS. I hope it is straightforward and transparent and handles the simple task of sending the results of the vote counting at the polling stations to Nairobi this time.

As an American, it is none of my business whom Kenyans vote for, but with all the investment of Kenyan blood, sweat and tears, and American and other donor funds, I will be disquieted until Kenyans are able to count on knowing how they have voted and be in a position to move their frozen politics forward with the kind of hope that existed before the debacle of 2007.




NATIONAL INSECURITY: Kenya’s Forever War on Terror

Another Beginning?

In May 2017, delegations from a wide and diverse array of international stakeholders with interests in Somalia gathered in London to attend a high-level multilateral conference, the third major conference to be held on Somalia since 2012. Hosted by the British Government in conjunction with the United Nations Secretary-General, more than forty organisations and nations ultimately met to outline the relationship between the international community and the Federal Government of Somalia (FGS) over the next four years.

To this end, the conference participants unveiled a New Partnership for Somalia (NPS) and a Security Pact (SP) whose objectives -the continuing pursuit of a stable and secure Somalia- did not really differ from the outcomes of the two previous high-level conferences. Indeed, they were very much in accordance with all such gatherings held since the overthrow of Siad Barre in 1991. From the points of view of the conference organisers, international and local media and the newly elected FGS President Mohamed Abdullahi “Farmajo” Mohamed, the conference was deemed a success, attracting as it did pledges of additional financial assistance, training and material support, as well as deadlines for achieving the full realisation of national security architecture within a federalised governance structure.

For Kenyans, however, news coming out of the actual conference, as well as in the days preceding and after the event, was much less positive and considerably more ominous. The Head of State, President Uhuru Kenyatta, facing a tough campaign for re-election in August 2017, seemed to commit the Kenya Defence Force (KDF) to remaining in Somalia until the objectives of Operation Linda Nchi, the invasion of Somalia launched in October 2011, and which had since been folded into the African Union Mission in Somalia (AMISOM), had been achieved. Mr. Kenyatta was quoted as saying that “Our ultimate objective is to ensure the country’s (i.e. Somalia’s?) security is guaranteed. We cannot exit without accomplishing our goal of bringing stability and have a secure nation.” President Kenyatta was reported as asking the international community to significantly enhance its support to AMISOM; alternatively it was suggested that the UN take on much more of the funding responsibility for AMISOM. It was unclear whether KDF assigned to AMISOM would be withdrawn along with other troop- contributing nations’ military and police units as of 2020, as previously announced by the African Union; President Kenyatta was reported as stating that greater UN support would accelerate the planned draw down of AMISOM soldiers.

Back home neither the Kenyan media nor any of the opposition leaders took much notice of the president’s declarations that the KDF would stay in Somalia to pacify and stabilise Somalia; editors were happy to express patriotic sentiments supporting continued KDF presence because, as the Sunday Standard stated, “Al Shabaab strikes when we relax and retreats when we advance, the idea being to wear down the KDF to desperation and withdrawal. This is why President Uhuru Kenyatta has made it clear that the army is in Somalia for the long haul. Withdrawal would mean loss of national face and a propaganda coup for the Al Shabaab.” And that was that as everyone turned all their attention to politics and the price of ugali.

Operation Linda Nchi

On Sunday, 16 October 2011, a column of approximately 1,800 Kenya Army troops crossed into Somalia from their bases in Mandera, Wajir and Garissa. Although supported – when weather permitted – by helicopter gunships and Kenya Air Force F-5s, this was essentially a conventional motorised assault against Al Shabaab terrorists. During the five weeks prior to the cross-border assault, suspected Al Shabaab militants had allegedly attacked Western tourists in Lamu and had also abducted two Spanish Médecins Sans Frontières volunteers from the vicinity of the Dadaab refugee camps. Throughout 2011, there had also been an upsurge in-fighting inside Somalia between AMISOM, Somali government forces and the Al Qaeda affiliated Al Shabaab militia. The latter had been pushed out of the Somali capital, Mogadishu, and was relinquishing control over towns in central Somalia where much of the population was experiencing serious famine. Further south, Al Shabaab had retained control of Kismayu with its strategic functioning port facilities and, in the areas adjacent to the Kenya border, held increasing sway over the population.

Although I initially viewed Operation Linda Nchi as a legally permissible punitive strike against Al Shabaab’s cross-border incursions, the longevity and development of the operation, as well as evidence that Al Shabaab terrorists were not involved in attacks on tourists in Lamu or in the kidnapping of the two Spanish MSF employees in Dadaab, caused my views to shift to more prosaic and indefensible reasons.

This cross-border incursion had limited objectives and the columns’ various combat elements – armoured fighting vehicles, towed artillery, troop transports, donated American Humvees, lorries, British supplied tanks, Land Rovers – were not accompanied by ambulances, fuel trucks, combat support engineers, water bowsers, mobile kitchens, specialised command-and-control armour-proofed vehicles or heavier artillery pieces. The numbers of troops initially committed and the configuration of the attack column gave no indication that the KDF had planned a campaign to last beyond Christmas 2011.

The very limited objectives of Operation Linda Nchi included recovery of those kidnapped ostensibly by Al Shabaab terrorists, pushing the group’s units away from the international border and retaliating for previous terrorist attacks against targets within Kenya, however infrequent and sporadic they may have been; in fact Kenya had largely escaped the sort of Al Shabaab terrorism unleashed against civilians in Uganda in 2010, which had troops actively engaged in combat with Al Shabaab on behalf of the Mogadishu authorities.

Within two weeks of the Kenyan troops crossing into Somalia, Al Shabaab launched a still ongoing, albeit intermittent, campaign of terrorist attacks on mainly civilian targets in and around Nairobi and Mombasa, as well as throughout the counties of the former North Eastern, Eastern and Coast Provinces. Al Shabaab also increased recruitment within Kenya and a local branch developed, seemingly focused on exploiting domestic alienation and historical anti-government grievances among Muslim communities who viewed themselves as being largely marginalised and discriminated against by successive post-independence governments. Attacks against soft targets inside Kenya have waxed and waned. Though Nairobi has been spared similar attacks to that on the Westgate Mall in 2013, which killed at least 68 people, Al Shabaab has since 2012 massacred students, civil servants and workers across Mandera, Wajir, Garissa and Lamu counties. Continuing assassinations of chiefs and subchiefs, as well as occasional successful attacks on isolated police posts and ambushes within Kenya of KDF convoys and police patrols, are clear evidence that Al Shabaab’s somewhat minimal presence in 2010 inside the four counties bordering Somalia has developed into a self-sustaining domestic insurgency.

The situation in Mombasa has also become increasingly confused since 2011, mainly because of heavy-handed government repression and extrajudicial executions targeting radical Imams and alleged Jihadist recruits, apparently with the tacit support of foreign intelligence agencies.

Operation Linda Nchi – A Confluence of Interests?

During the thirty-six years since I first arrived in Kenya, the security relationship between Washington and Nairobi has undergone substantial changes in scope, in activities undertaken and in financial support given, as well as in the expectations and motivations of all participants and stakeholders. Between independence in 1963 and the fall of the Berlin Wall in 1989, Kenya had been a reliable, albeit not terribly strategically important, ally of the West against the spread of communism, whether in East Africa or throughout the Greater Horn of Africa region. All Kenya had the port of Mombasa and its relatively stable and peaceful political environment in which a host of service industries (i.e. finances, logistics, education, communications, light manufacturing built on import substitution, and export-oriented agricultural enterprises) seemed to operate reliably and efficiently, especially when compared to the rest of the region. Kenya had also attracted the only UN Headquarters located in Africa, numerous foreign correspondents and both major and minor international media institutions. During the late 1970s and throughout the 1980s, international NGOs and development agencies established regional offices and substantially increased the inflow of donor dollars, whether for project support or simply to conduct daily operations. The country also experienced a genuine tourism boom which benefited from – by African standards – her superior infrastructure (i.e. all-weather roads, international and domestic air connections, seaport, etc.) and a well-developed hospitality industry. Despite her one-party government, price and exchange controls, and a growing movement advocating greater democracy, increased economic opportunities and an end to rising levels of government corruption, Kenya was a haven of stability and pragmatic African nationalism.

None of the foregoing should be dismissed as a somewhat irrelevant backstory. The same factors that made Kenya a moderately useful ally during the Cold War can still be found today. Kenya remains an essential hub for major humanitarian and relief operations in the Horn of Africa, South Sudan, the eastern part of the Democratic Republic of the Congo (DRC)and Burundi, and is a vital component in international antipiracy operations. She has become increasingly important to the conduct of US counterterrorism operations focusing on the Al Qaeda leadership co-located with Al Shabaab elements within Somalia and elsewhere in the region.

Although I initially viewed Operation Linda Nchi as a legally permissible punitive strike against Al Shabaab’s cross-border incursions, the longevity and development of the operation, as well as evidence that Al Shabaab terrorists were not involved in attacks on tourists in Lamu or in the kidnapping of the two Spanish MSF employees in Dadaab, caused my views to shift to more prosaic and indefensible reasons.

The launch of Operation Linda Nchi substantially altered the relationship between the Kenyan and US governments.

Just as Operation Linda Nchi effectively constituted a “declaration of war” on Al Shabaab and other radical Islamic terrorists – and changed Kenya forever – the successful Al Qaeda attacks in September, 2001, on the World Trade Centre and the Pentagon transformed how the US government perceived global threats to homeland security; much of the language used to describe the global danger to America of radical Islamic Jihadist terrorism is eerily reminiscent of the views of threats posed by international communism in the aftermath of the Second World War. The “enemy” then was exemplified by the Soviet Union and mainland China, as well as such bit players as Cuba, Vietnam (North until 1975) and North Korea. Because all of these enemies were essentially state actors, American responses could be characterised as merely adaptations of traditional statecraft (e.g. diplomatic, political, military, economic, etc) somewhat modified to fit post-war United Nations conventions.

Since 9/11 traditional statecraft, whether modified or adapted, has been pretty much thrown out the window, the “enemy” in our Global War on Terror seems mainly comprised of non-state actors fighting to impose their ideology of radical Islam wherever an opportunity arises. Although violent Jihadists may be sponsored or supported by established nations and may even seek to overthrow existing governments (e.g. Mali, Somalia, Islamic State in Iraq and Syria, Afghanistan), the received wisdom and emerging doctrine within ascendant Western security establishments views the current conflict as being both global and forever. This has led to new ways of assessing “victories” and conducting operations whose effect on US-Kenya bilateral relations may not be obvious but is nonetheless pervasive and with consequences that are unintended and little commented on.

Despite occasional statements paying lip service to promoting good governance, countering insurgency (i.e. hearts and minds activities, developing partners’ security capacities, etc.) and promoting a human rights agenda, short-term success is measured by the elimination of “wanted” Al Qaeda/Al Shabaab terrorists with little or no loss of American lives; financial considerations are secondary. In addition, since the invasion of Iraq in 2003 “nation building”, as a modern term for either small wars or counter insurgency campaigning, has fallen completely off the charts used by American and nearly all Western leaders. For example, in Somalia the US is following a policy of stabilisation which is inherently short term in nature and which has no overall strategic objectives.

In this scenario, Kenya, as a stable geographical entity with a friendly government, has assumed much greater importance than at any time in its nearly 40 years of military cooperation with Washington. In fact the nature of America’s “Forever War” since 9/11 gives the Kenyan government much greater influence in its relationship with Washington than was ever the case even at the height of the Cold War when American efforts in Africa concentrated on suppressing threats posed by the Soviet Union, Cuba or East Germany and such proxies as Libya and Ethiopia.

Another thing that is seldom appreciated is how many “survivors of terrorism” are driving America’s post 9/11 security agenda. For example, the present US Ambassador to Kenya, Robert Godec, survived the Al Qaeda bombing of the US embassy in Nairobi on 7 August 1998 and his career assignments since then have involved various aspects of the US government’s Global War on Terrorism. His immediate predecessor, Scott Gration, was on duty at the Pentagon on 9/11 when hijacked aircraft slammed into the building; he was also a senior officer who witnessed the terror bombing in the early 1990s of the Khobar Barracks used by US Air Force personnel in Saudi Arabia.

Further, I believe an appreciation of the connections and links between the individuals running the US security agenda in the Horn are critical to any assessment of the US government’s assistance to Kenyan security agencies. When Operation Linda Nchi was launched, Ambassador Scott Gration, a retired Major General in the US Air Force, was the US Ambassador to Kenya; he had previously served as the Obama administration’s representative in Juba, South Sudan. Ambassador Gration had grown up in Kenya and, as a US Air Force Major, had from 1983 to 1984, worked closely with Julius Karangi, then a Kenya Air Force Major, when the US government supplied Kenya with F-5 jets and instructors. Major Karangi, who was then in charge of US-Kenya military assistance programs, had risen to the Chief of Defence Forces when Operation Linda Nchi was launched.

US training and logistics assistance to Kenya increased substantially during 2012, although Gration resigned on 21 June 2012. Gration remains active in business and missionary circles in Kenya. General Karangi retired from KDF in 2015 but remains highly influential inside the government and its security architecture, as well as in business circles.

The political class in Kenya is oblivious of the existential security threats confronting Kenya; there is an ingrained belief in the nation’s exceptionalism and resilience based on little more than hope and an unwillingness by the media, government, civil society and the private sector to demand accountability from their friends, relatives and colleagues occupying senior positions of power, influence and responsibility when things go wrong.

Although Scott Gration served as Senator Obama’s military aide during the latter’s visit to Nairobi in 2006 and was one of the first generals to support Obama for president in 2008, he has close ties to Dr. Jendayi Frazer, a former Republican Assistant Secretary of State for African Affairs serving through January 2009; Dr. Frazer has been associated since 1990 with the Kenyatta family and does business in East Africa – especially in Rwanda – and is a strong proponent of fighting Islamic Jihadist terrorism, especially in East Africa. During her tenure as Assistant Secretary of State, the Kenyan government allowed the recruitment of ethnic Somali Kenya citizens and Somali refugees from Dadaab who were trained in Manyani by retired US personnel and serving Kenya Army officers and then sent in Somalia National Army uniforms to fight Al Shabaab; this project was eventually abandoned and by August 2011 some wounded survivors made their way to Mandera. This entire operation remains shrouded in secrecy but seems to have fallen apart when funds for salaries and logistics were stolen, with the fighters in Somalia being literally abandoned and left to their own devices; an unknown number of these trained soldiers were alleged to have defected to Al Shabaab. The financing of these sorts of shadowy military operations, which date back in concept to the late 1940s, has always been “off the books” and not subject to normal financial and performance audits.

While researching KDF “Order of Battle” reports compiled by various professional risk analysts, I noticed that there are 100-110 T-72 Main Battle Tanks (MBTs) still listed in Kenya Army inventories; the KDF has never purchased or deployed the Soviet era tanks although the Sudan People’s Liberation Army (SPLA) Juba government took possession of such equipment when Scott Gration was the US government representative. Somali pirates had inadvertently captured a vessel carrying 33 T-72s, which was rapidly freed and made its way to Kenya where its cargo was offloaded in Mombasa from where the tanks, ammunition, spare parts and accessories were transported by rail and road to South Sudan; the Kenyan military would have been the only Kenyan government agency with the necessary means and capabilities to ensure safety and security of this and previous transfers of heavy war materials and weapons to the SPLA in Juba even before South Sudan formally achieved independence. (Whether the Auditor General has ever queried how over a hundred MBTs were added to the KDF assets register and whether this procurement, including payment to the supplier, was properly documented remains unknown.)

The launch of Operation Linda Nchi substantially altered the relationship between the Kenyan and US governments. Washington had not been formally advised about the incursion and the seemingly open-ended nature of this punitive expedition -which had failed by Jamhuri Day, 2011, to accomplish any of its limited objectives- presented the Obama administration with an unforeseen dilemma as it opened up another front in the US Global War on Terrorism. Kenya increased its forces inside Somalia to 4, 660 and announced that the main objective of the campaign was to seize the port of Kismayu after clearing Al Shabaab forces from an expansive zone –Gedo/Juba – adjacent to the international border. In addition, the government negotiated the permanent inclusion of some 3,600 KDF troops into AMISOM; this “rehatting” was essential if Kenya were not to be bankrupted by its invasion of Somalia.

An additional consequence of Operation Linda Nchi was a nearly immediate upsurge in Al Shabaab terrorism, not only in the four frontline counties along the Somali border but increasingly directed against civilian targets in and around Nairobi as well as in Mombasa. the Kenyan security forces’ weaknesses and vulnerabilities became obvious, which prompted more financial assistance from the United States and its Western allies to Counter Violent Extremism/Counter Jihadist Terrorism.

Similarly, well-documented governance issues and failures of the Kenyan government to manage basic administrative functions normally associated with a modern nation state – and essential for any success to be achieved in countering insurgency or fighting terrorism – have merely attracted more money for more quick fixes, community-based development solutions as well as increased joint training opportunities for selected KDF elements and, occasionally, counterparts from the United States (e.g. Massachusetts Air National Guard – September 2016). There are also ongoing deployments of US Special Forces personnel to “train, advise and assist” their KDF Special Forcescounterparts; the only time such activities come to light is when a US service member dies while temporarily deployed to Kenya and a notice briefly appears in some home town media outlet. Correspondent Margot Kiser has also reported in the Daily Beast about US soldiers in the Boni Forest / Lamu area.

On the Kenyan side of the bilateral relationship, there is a permanent, long-standing community of diverse political, social, economic and commercial interests, all of which derive benefits from continuing participation of the Kenyan government in America’s Forever War as it plays out in the Greater Horn of Africa. As will be explained in greater detail, regardless of the initial factors that motivated Operation Linda Nchi, there is no longer any reason to believe that the Kenyan government’s actions since 2011 have anything to do with strengthening Kenya’s national security within the context of the 2010 Constitution and in accordance with legitimate and acceptable national interests. The political class in Kenya is oblivious of the existential security threats confronting Kenya; there is an ingrained belief in the nation’s exceptionalism and resilience based on little more than hope and an unwillingness by the media, government, civil society and the private sector to demand accountability from their friends, relatives and colleagues occupying senior positions of power, influence and responsibility when things go wrong.

In 2014, I wrote about how Kenya had become a nation of “spin” and PR:

“… Kenya has developed into a nation where shameless deception and lying have become standard operating procedure in both public and private sectors; the effects of this Orwellian dystopia we have learned to accept initially means that we fail to identify and fix problems and ultimately suffer increasingly greater financial losses… our economy fails to grow and .. youth radicalization, crime and insecurity increase nationally.”

Although I was referring to the reporting in the media of bank failures, financial fraud and regulatory incompetence, it is true that the spinning of reality and PR whitewashes have replaced news reporting and analyses of all matters security.

With hindsight, Operation Linda Nchi was launched to put Kenya firmly on the side of the US and other western allies in the Global War on Terrorism but with little thought given to the country’s national security needs, capacities and capabilities.

Further, Kenya’s failure to implement anti-money laundering policies and procedures has gone well beyond inhibiting economic growth and facilitating corruption. “Kenya on US blacklist over terrorism laws,” the Daily Nation reported in March 2012. The country had been found to not be lax in enactment of legislation criminalising the financing of terrorism. Nearly eight months later, Kenya remained on watch lists of countries failing to make sufficient progress to curb money laundering and to counter terrorist financing.

An example of how half full – even nearly empty – water glasses can be described as opportunities to turn lemons into lemonade can be found in an article in the Standard on Sunday by Prof. Peter Kagwanja. In the piece, titled “Latest move by USAID a warning to end dependence on aid”, he characterised the recent US suspension of $21 million earmarked for the Ministry of Health (after the Auditor-General found that billions of shillings in the ministry could not be accounted for) as being done on political grounds, ostensibly because corruption is a major campaign plank of the opposition; the suspension, he argued, presented an opportunity for Kenya to wean itself off aid.

However, Prof. Kagwanja finishes up by mentioning the US government’s commitment to spend $30 million on the Independent Electoral and Boundaries Commission (IEBC), implying that such spending constitutes approval rather than acquiescence. He also described the donation to the KDF of eight unarmed light transport helicopters and State Department approval of a controversial and seemingly hugely overpriced $418 million purchase of close air support aircraft, as examples of positive American support for the Kenyan government’s efforts to deal with terrorism and violent extremism.

Prof. Kagwanja is considered an international relations and security affairs expert and has presented his analyses and opinions on governance and security at the Washington DC Africa Center for Strategic Studies – an influential think tank affiliated with the Pentagon. As a senior and respected scholar, his views count and his credibility is seldom questioned by Americans active in the post- 9/11 Forever War on Global Terrorism. Whether US aid to Kenyan security forces is used effectively or KDF procurement decisions contribute to countering terrorism within East Africa is less important to the US officials involved than is protecting the American Homeland against Jihadist terrorism originating overseas. As will be explained, such disconnects between reality and fantasy, as well as different views on objectives to be achieved and relevant timelines, have created a perfect storm for national insecurity in Kenya as well as elsewhere throughout the Greater Horn of Africa.

Kenya’s War on Terror: Scorecard and Evaluation

The KDF Defence White Paper 2017, launched by President Kenyatta on 3 May 2017, emphasises threats to national security posed by neighboring states’ armed forces, as well as the existential threats in the form of radicalised Islamic youth tragically influenced by external Jihadist forces to become terrorists at home and abroad. Local influences and issues that motivate violent extremism, regardless of religion or political affiliation, are glossed over and no mention is made of the sort of counterinsurgency operations conducted by the British colonial authorities in Kenya in the 1950s against Mau Mau freedom fighters –then also referred to as terrorists – who were often executed as criminals when captured rather than treated as enemy combatants. There is no reference at all to counterinsurgency operations that focus on domestically-instigated conflicts.

This White Paper perfectly captures the thinking of the government’s and the country’s political class and corresponds to local interpretations of the place of Kenya in America’s Global War on Terrorism. Al Shabaab is essentially an insurgent group primarily fighting to take power in Somalia. It may have irredentist ambitions to establish a Greater Somalia within the Horn of Africa, and no doubt sees the frontline counties of Kenya adjacent to the international border as well as Tana River County and significant portions of the former Coast Province as being included in its area of operations. From a strategic perspective and remembering its main objectives, it is very likely that US military commanders view all of the Greater Horn of Africa as being one area of operation in the Global War on Terror -whether coordinated by Africom in Germany or US Centcom in Tampa, the enemy is Al Qaeda and its affiliate Al Shabaab, both of which are deemed to pose threats to Americans at home. The one stakeholder that has failed to embrace this expanded geographical combat zone has been Kenya which relies on borders, its role in a globalised war on terror and a notionally separate chain of command in AMISOM, to explain away the lack of progress in defeating Al Shabaab and improving domestic peace and security. It is the only actor seemingly without its own national objective.

A recent Transparency International (TI) report on Nigeria examined the negative effects of massive corruption within military procurement, troop support and administration on the war against Boko Haram. -Nigerian officials are literally stealing their soldiers’ capabilities to defeat Boko Haram! Kenya is now on the cusp of Nigerian-style military procurement corruption.

Conceptually, Operation Linda Nchi was flawed from the very beginning, and not because conventionally trained soldiers cannot defeat guerrillas. There was no reason to believe that Al Shabaab would engage in direct combat with the better armed and equipped Kenya Army professionals. Al Shabaab has historically disengaged on its own terms when in contact with AMISOM forces. And like AMISOM, the motorised road-bound KDF units occupied space without significantly diminishing Al Shabaab’s tactical capabilities.

Even assuming that the strategic objective underlying Operation Linda Nchi was to ultimately establish a permanent presence in support of a client semi-autonomous Jubaland Administration, the inevitable terrorist blowback within Kenya since the end of October 2011 has exposed massive cracks and gaps within Kenya’s entire security architecture, which have yet to be comprehensively considered or resolved despite fairly significant expenditure on new equipment and training by foreign experts of KDF and National Police Service (NPS) units and personnel.

With the assault on the KDF-manned camps in El Adde in January 2016 and Kulbiyow a year later, Al Shabaab has shown it can still mass sufficient numbers of trained fighters to successfully assault fixed defensive positions. Such conventional attacks have revealed shocking tactical deficiencies and lack of war fighting skills among KDF company grade officers and soldiers deployed to AMISOM. This latter revelation was completely unexpected and can be fixed but only if the KDF leadership believes there is a problem. Foreign military personnel generally avoid publicly commenting on these issues although they agree in private and off the record that the security leadership is either in deep denial or is simply not interested. There is no real disagreement about incompetence and poor military skills at all levels of the KDF.

With hindsight, Operation Linda Nchi was launched to put Kenya firmly on the side of the US and other western allies in the Global War on Terrorism but with little thought given to the country’s national security needs, capacities and capabilities. For example, as KDF troop numbers increased to nearly 4,600 and the Kenyan government announced its intention to join AMISOM, the government’s budgetary constraints and unanticipated consequential post- Operation Linda Nchi expenditures security operations nationwide nearly broke the bank; it became clear that much more financial support from friendly allies was required. Although Kismayu was seized at the end of September 2012 and the KDF withdrew some 800 troops, 3,660 remain assigned to AMISOM whose budgetary support (i.e. reimbursement for operational expenses, equipment losses, wear and tear, etc) remains critical to the government’s cash reserves and liquidity.

Further, opportunities for corruption abound whenever military procurement and security sectors’ expenditures take on lives of their own. Kenya is no exception although on a much smaller scale than in Somalia, Yemen, Iraq and Afghanistan. Corruption saps morale and discipline but also keeps conflicts from being concluded. Though the secrecy surrounding security spending makes it difficult to question its effectiveness and accurately track financial flows, it is not an impossible task. However, the media in Kenya has shown little willingness to undertake these sorts of investigations.

That the 7,000 Al Shabaab main force militiamen retain their ability to carry out attacks is not testament to their training or professionalism; Al Shabaab is just not that good. Rather, their continued resilience and successes on the battlefield shows how bad Kenya is at handling existential security threats.

Why Kenya’s War on Terror Failing

In January, much media attention was focused on looming cuts in foreign assistance to African countries announced by the incoming Trump Administration, citing the need to save taxpayers’ money for use at home, as well as corruption, ineffectiveness and the seemingly open-ended nature of US funding for democracy and governance programmes. Notably, Trump was asking why “we” hadn’t defeated Al Shabaab after spending “hundreds of millions” on a wide range of military activities within the Horn of Africa. Divorced from the source and disregarding the so called complexities of the Global War on Terror and the much studied internal dynamics of Somalia, Trump’s question is absolutely valid and worth asking not only in relation to Al Shabaab in Somalia but, more importantly, also in relation to Kenya’s Forever War On Terror. To be precise, how can the abysmal performance of Kenyan security forces in its war against Al Shabaab be explained?

As this article is being written, Al Shabaab militants have ramped up their terror campaign in the counties of Mandera and Garissa; at least fourteen police officers were killed in three roadside explosions this week with many more wounded. In March this year, Al Shabaab announced its intention to disrupt the Kenya General Elections scheduled to be held in August. In fact, since early May attacks on soft targets have occurred with increasing frequency.

Regardless of all the renewed expressions of financial and military assistance coming out of the London Conference, Al Shabaab continues to launch terror attacks in and around Mogadishu with relative impunity. Its forces in southern Somalia move freely, and when Ethiopian forces not assigned to AMISOM withdrew without notice from towns and villages they had occupied, Al Shabaab quickly reasserted control.

In many ways, the conditions that allowed an Al Qaeda sleeper cell to destroy the US Embassy in 1998 have become even more favourable for Al Qaeda, Al Shabaab, ISIS, narcotics traffickers, poachers and international fraudsters.

On 7 August 1998, Al Qaeda terrorists blew up the US Embassy located in Nairobi’s central business district; a simultaneous attack on a similar target in Dar es Salaam was less successful. Investigations into the Nairobi attack showed that an Al Qaeda sleeper cell had entered Kenya in 1993/94, acquired Kenyan IDs and passports, registered companies, opened bank accounts, established families and conducted business at the coast; all their documentation had either been obtained fraudulently or lawfully because of lapses and oversights in enforcing regulations and applicable laws in place 20 years before. In 2002 surviving Al Qaeda terrorists still in place in Kenya were able to successfully detonate a vehicle borne IED in the reception of the Israeli-owned Paradise Hotel on the north coast of Mombasa. Another Al Qaeda team managed to drive next to the runway at Mombasa’s Moi International Airport when an Israeli charter flight was taking off for Tel Aviv with a full load of tourists and fired surface-to-air missiles, smuggled over land from Somalia, at the plane. The missiles failed to hit the 747 but the terrorists also managed to elude capture. In 2010, Al Shabaab successfully detonated explosives in Kampala during which two venues crowded with World Cup spectators were hit. Subsequent investigations showed that much of the Al Shabaab planning, organisation and financing took place in Kenya where alleged terrorists were arrested and renditioned to stand trial in Uganda.

A recent Transparency International (TI) report on Nigeria examined the negative effects of massive corruption within military procurement, troop support and administration on the war against Boko Haram. -Nigerian officials are literally stealing their soldiers’ capabilities to defeat Boko Haram! Kenya is now on the cusp of Nigerian-style military procurement corruption. The acquisition of much needed IOMAX Air Tractor Close Air Support aircraft referred to by Prof. Kagwanja has been delayed – possibly irrevocably – because the original equipment manufacturer contends that the KDF is paying $125 million more than it should and getting them from a US Defence Contractor, L3 Technologies, that has no track record of supplying this sort of aircraft; in effect a “super broker” eating up to $125 million of Kenyan taxpayer money. The allegations are yet to be substantiated, though the US Air Force has been accused of not cooperating with congressional investigations.

As previously mentioned, the US has castigated Kenya for not doing enough to tackle terrorist financing; Kenya remained for another three years on a Financial Action Task Force (FATF) watch list of countries failing to enact legislation to curb money laundering and other assorted financial crimes. The still unresolved scam at the National Youth Service, dating back to early 2016, showed 28 commercial banks failing to report cash transactions in excess of $10,000 to the Central Bank of Kenya’s Financial Reporting Centre, as required by laws designed to curb money laundering.

The administrative chaos and regulatory confusion in Kenya militates against the prevention of the sorts of criminal activity that has brought down Dubai Bank, Imperial Bank, Chase Bank, Tsavo Securities, Discount Securities, Loita Asset Managers, Ngenye Kariuki Stockbrokers, and others. Vast amounts of money have gone missing through clever manipulation of existing laws and regulations, lax and/or complicit GOK regulators, and an overburdened outdated judicial system.

Three years ago, 18 foreign heads of mission, including US Ambassador Godec, jointly issued a letter demanding that the government put its financial house in order by enacting laws and actually implementing its own legislation. However, no timelines were set nor any punitive action described.

In many ways, the conditions that allowed an Al Qaeda sleeper cell to destroy the US Embassy in 1998 have become even more favourable for Al Qaeda, Al Shabaab, ISIS, narcotics traffickers, poachers and international fraudsters. Yet this has seemingly had no effect on how American tax money is spent in Kenya. The only logical explanation is that the consistent and short-term protection of the [American] Homeland is the overarching priority of the US Government; Kenya is a sovereign country and what the natives do with our “training, assistance and advice” is really not something we can or should dictate. In any case the real dilemma is that Kenya – the government, the political class, the private sector and its mainstream media – is its own incubator of national insecurity and the situation can only get worse.




Set up to fail? Police reforms in Kenya

For over a decade now, Kenyans have been listening to talk about police reforms. And though it may be true that police now have more fancy crowd control equipment than they did 10 years ago, and more cars, a forensic lab, health care insurance, armed vehicles, and some extra housing, this has yet to translate into better police performance that is noticeable for the average Kenyan. And frankly, there is little reason to be optimistic things will change in the near future.

Ever since its inception by the colonial powers, police in Kenya have functioned as a class institution, where members of the higher classes receive quite different treatment from the lower classes. Rather than serving the interests of the public, police have been serving the interests of those in power, especially when those in power could exercise influence over promotions and removals. For the others, policing in Kenya has since long been characterised by excessive use of force, extra-judicial killings, torture, and corruption.

Police frequently fail to respond professionally to policing situations, whether they involve calls for assistance, criminal investigations, dealing with terrorist threats, managing peaceful protests or even the handling of traffic. As a result, the public lacks confidence and is reluctant to report to the police or otherwise provide them with information.

As with any misconduct, it doesn’t stop at the gates of the institution: members of the police also fall victim to (internal) corruption, nepotism and (sexual) harassment. Nor are all police officers bad – on the contrary, there are many good willing, hardworking officers, who want the system to change, who are desperate to build true professional pride, and who were hoping the reforms would bring the long hoped for changes.

In sum, there is no real incentive for the powers-that-be to build a truly effective, professional, accountable police service.

Also, members of the upper classes are certainly not safe from bad policing. Cases such as the killing of the son of a British aristocrat, Alexander Monsoon, in 2012, the killing of the son of a former MP in 2009, and last April, the killing of the son of a senior police officer spring to mind. Likewise, the upper classes’ safety is hardly guaranteed: though senior members of the political and executive elites usually have substantial security detail (drawn from the police), this provides only some protection, and certainly does not protect against terrorism; a case in point is the death of the President’s nephew during the attack on the Westgate Mall. Make no mistake; without doubt, the lower classes get far worse policing, if any at all, than the middle and upper classes and especially when it comes to the use of force, they find themselves on the receiving end much, much more often than their richer compatriots. But it is not true that policing for the higher classes is without problems.

How did this situation evolve the way it did? First of all, due to systematic underfunding, misallocation of funds and regular inappropriate interference in police operations, the police force has been unable to develop into a service that meets international professional standards. But why did the powers-that-be allow this situation to evolve like this? For this we have to go a bit deeper, looking at how Kenya, with its politics dominated by tribalism and a winner-takes-all mentality, is a country where winning the elections means access to wealth. As such, it is useful for those in power, at whichever level, to have police who are loyal to them, rather than politically neutral servers of the general public.

Moreover, let’s not forget Kenya still is a country with various leaders being accused of various levels of involvement in organised crime and corruption, and with a ‘culture of impunity’ (see Branch 2011; or look at the difficulty the judiciary is having to interpret Chapter VI of the Constitution, let alone getting it implemented in practice). Indeed, reports of political involvement in drug trafficking, ivory poaching and corruption involving senior Government officials and businessmen closely related to the political elite (Gastrow 2011; Kahumbu 2014), make it clear that it may not be that beneficial for the country’s elite to have truly professional police that handle crime effectively: indeed they themselves might be targeted by police investigations. In sum, there is no real incentive for the powers-that-be to build a truly effective, professional, accountable police service.

This says something about the context in which police, and indeed other Government institutions, operate. Police in Kenya, like in most other countries, have a level of discretion to decide how to deal with certain policing situations. Such discretion is often seen as a defining element of police professionalism: within the boundaries set by the law and policies, police officers have a level of freedom to decide how to respond to a given situation, based on the specific nature of that situation. Indeed, where the public trusts the police they are willing to ‘grant’ them operational independence, and discretion, for which the police have to account. Discretion must be balanced by effective accountability, so that afterwards the appropriateness of the police’s actions can be assessed.

What has happened, however, is that the police in Kenya have had limited operational independence, and there was limited if any, effective, external oversight. The lack of oversight made it even easier to deploy the police for personal gain, and also to block investigations and operations that became a threat, and at the same time it gave the police space to serve their own interests, as when they collect bribes and intimidate and harass members of the public. Though it is too simple to say that the police are merely a puppet for those in power – and ultimately the President – it must be recognized they operate within the boundaries set by them. An effective accountability structure that includes independent oversight would greatly diminish the ‘playing field’ of both the rulers they serve as well as their own, and as such is not in the interest of either. The police have been given by and large a free hand, as long as they do not interfere with businesses that should be left unpoliced and instead ‘deal with’ crime and other security threats; that free hand has, however, extended beyond control, hence the extortions, killings, and tortures.

The police have been given by and large a free hand, as long as they do not interfere with businesses that should be left unpoliced and instead ‘deal with’ crime and other security threats; that free hand has, however, extended beyond control, hence the extortions, killings, and tortures.

It should be noted that this context is facilitated by a sometimes rather permissive attitude of the general public towards police misconduct, and mixed messages about what it is they want from the police. For example, with regards to killings by the police, all too often the comments from the general public are not only permissive, but sometimes even literally calling on the police to kill more. Civil society could, and should, play a role in opening up, and guiding the public debate about the type of police we want for Kenya today. Yet, to date, such a debate has yet to materialize.

Over the years, this situation led to ever-louder calls, by civil society and other stakeholders, for police reforms. For some 15 years now, there have been several reform efforts. A first comprehensive police reform effort was undertaken in 2003-4 after the NARC Government came to power on an agenda of change and anti-corruption. An ambitious police reform document (Strategic Plan 2004-2008) was developed, largely focusing on improving salaries and allowances and enhancing budget allocation to address infrastructural, operational and administrative concerns, but failed to propose substantial reforms that would have resulted in more accountable, more fair and effective policing. Calls for police reforms gained strength after the 2007/08 post-election violence. Domestic actors and representatives of the international community convinced the two principals, Mwai Kibaki and Raila Odinga, to sign the ‘National Peace Accord’, of which ‘Agenda item 4’ addresses ‘Long term issues and solutions’, including ‘Constitutional, legal and institutional reform’. It is under this agenda item that police reform was addressed. As the National Task Force on Police Reform later noted: “the inclusion of Police Reform under ‘Agenda Four’ stemmed from a strong feeling that the level of post-election violence and destruction would have been minimized had the Police responded in a professional non-partisan manner” (p.1).

In line with the Peace Accord, the coalition-Government established the ‘Commission of Inquiry on Post-Election Violence’ (also known as the CIPEV Commission, or Waki Commission, named after its Chair, Justice Philip Waki). ‘Waki’ revealed that, not only had the police been unable to prevent the violence or protect members of the public against it, they also actively contributed to the violence, with estimates that one third of the people who were killed died at the hands of members of the police. The two Principals agreed to implement certain recommendations from ‘Waki’, including the establishment of an Independent Police Service Commission and an Independent Police Conduct Authority, as well as the establishment of the National Task Force on Police Reforms in May 2009, (known as the ‘Ransley Commission’ after its Chair, Retired Justice Philip Ransley). ‘Ransley’ was tasked to evaluate the current police, and make recommendations for improvement. In total, ‘Ransley’ made over 200 recommendations to improve the efficiency and effectiveness of the police, conditions of service, provision of welfare benefits and greater security for officers, enhance accountability and create attitude and culture change. It called for establishing an effective complaints system, a Police Council and a Police Service Commission. After Ransley, the Government set up the Police Reform Implementation Committee (PRIC) to prepare implementation of the recommendations.

The key objective of the current reform project, as laid down by the Police Reforms Implementation Committee in 2011, is to enhance police professionalism and accountability; its ultimate goal ‘is to transform the police force into an effective, efficient and trusted police service’. The reforms have been codified in the 2010 Constitution and subsequent laws, most notably the National Police Service Act (c.11a), National Police Service Commission Act (c.30) and Independent Policing Oversight Authority Act (c.35), all of 2011. The Constitution gives an outline of the accountability infrastructure for the police. Overall command over the two Police Services, i.e. the Administration Police Service and the Kenya Police Service, is with the Inspector General who has security of tenure for four years, and is given independence of command. The Constitution prohibits the Cabinet Secretary, or anybody else, from interfering in police operations, investigations or employment and deployment matters. This also means that the Provincial Administration, or its equivalent, can no longer direct the police, which is a huge break with the past. Secondly, the Cabinet Secretary can give policy guidance only and this has to be in writing. Thirdly, the Constitution establishes the National Police Service Commission (the Commission, or NPSC) as responsible for recruitment and appointment and confirmation of promotions and transfers and gives the Commission the authority to observe due process, exercise disciplinary control and remove persons holding or acting in offices within the NPS. Even though the NPSC is a hybrid of both police and non-police (the IG and the two Deputy IGs are members, and the Commission includes two retired police officers, one from each branch of the Police Service; only the other four members are non-police), its independence is guaranteed under the Constitution. Fourthly, the Constitution places all national security organs under civilian authority and instructs the police to behave according to well-defined values of integrity and to reach out to the communities.

Yet, trouble loomed from the start. Normally, when a Bill has been adopted in Parliament, and is assented to by the President, it is sent to the Government’s Printer for printing and publication. As the key hurdle is parliamentary approval, followed by the President’s assent, printing should be a technicality only. Not so this time. Though the IPOA and the NPSC Acts were released fairly quickly, the NPS Act was only published one year later, in July 2012. Also, setting up the relevant institutions, most notably IPOA and the NPSC, was faced with delays. The IPOA Board was only appointed in June 2012 and the NPSC Commissioners were appointed in October 2012, more than a year after the Act was adopted in Parliament.

Tellingly, to date, there have been three amendments to the NPS Act, as well as one to the NPSC Act which strengthened the role of the executive, most notably the Cabinet-Secretary for Internal Security and Coordination of National Government, while weakening the NPSC.

In such a context, it should come as no surprise that implementation of the Acts, in letter but even more so in spirit, is wanting. For example, the Service Standing Orders should have been amended in order to comply with the new legislation and made public within one year after commencement of the Act. Not so. Releasing the Standing Orders would allow for a level of transparency that is apparently not in the interest of those in charge (whether de jure or de facto). Also, as can be seen by the many police shootings resulting in death, it is clear the police have not been instructed according to the new legislation. This is particularly clear when looking at IPOA, the official State body tasked with investigating deaths and serious injuries caused by police officers. Police have always been reluctant to notify the Authority of deaths and serious injuries that resulted from their actions, despite a statutory requirement to do so, and over the years the willingness has steadily declined. In the last 6 months of 2016, the police only notified the Authority in three instances. As IPOA wrote in its last Performance Report: ‘It is noted the number of deaths reported by the National Police Service is not reflective of the number of deaths as a result of police actions that were received through other channels. This implies a non-compliance by NPS.’ (p.21). IPOA has claimed the police fail to cooperate with the Authority, as was clear when IPOA inspectors were even detained by an Officer Commanding Police Division last year. Also, despite IPOA having conducted numerous investigations and inspections, and reviewed major police operations (for example, Operation Usalama Watch and also the Mpeketoni terrorist attacks), its impact on actual police performance remains modest as long as the police refuse to implement its recommendations.

The Commission hit the ground running, recruiting 7,000 new police recruits just weeks after it was established, and starting the recruitment of the new IG along with two deputies in late 2012, completing the make up of the Commission. However it was met with a hostile reception, from early 2013 onwards. Numerous were the headlines that the NPSC Chair, Johnston Kavuludi, was stepping on the mandate of then IG David Kimaiyo, and there were repeated calls to curtail, and even abolish the Commission. It was in this context that amendments started circulating shortly after the Commission took up office, which fed into the belief the executive had never been committed to implementing the legislation as it stood.

Tellingly, to date, there have been three amendments to the NPS Act, as well as one to the NPSC Act which strengthened the role of the executive, most notably the Cabinet-Secretary for Internal Security and Coordination of National Government, while weakening the NPSC. Though there has been repeated talk of amending the IPOA Act, this has to date been held off.

The Commission, meant to insulate the police from (political) interference by ensuring human resource management would be fair and merit-based, has received major criticism. It has conducted 5 major recruitment exercises, including one in 2014 that was marred with allegations of corruption and interference to the extent that IPOA went to court to get the exercise cancelled, much to the chagrin of the Commission, the police and wider executive, as well as the candidates affected (some of whom were said to have paid huge sums to acquire a spot while others had resigned from their jobs thinking they had gotten into the police). The 2015, 2016 and 2017 exercises went ahead – despite more allegations of malpractices (see for example the critical report by KNCHR).

Yet, probably the main activity for which the Commission is known to the public is the vetting process, which disclosed a lot of information about the inner workings of the police. As per the NPS Act, all members of the NPS are to be vetted on suitability and competence, by the Commission. The vetting, which started mid 2013, has been slow, and today the Commission has only vetted just over 3,000 officers. More worryingly, very few have actually been removed from the Service following the vetting, leading to many people questioning the value of the costly process. Indeed, there are many allegations, some of them substantiated, that the Commission does not comply with its own regulations, thus feeding into the belief the Commission is not fully independent and fails to prevent interference, raising questions about its own value.

All in all, despite the setting up of various institutions meant to hold the police to account, shield them from undue interference, and prevent misconduct or correct it where it does occur, police performance has barely changed. There are still numerous reports of crime committed by police officers, most notably corruption, extortion, bribery, excessive use of force and torture. Some have even argued that extra-judicial killings are on the rise, and there is a continuing failure of the police to respond professionally to policing situations, as the handling of various demonstrations in the past 12 months have shown all too well. The case of the Mavoko 3, where police were involved in the torture and brutal killing of lawyer Willie Kimani, his client, Josphat Mwenda, and their driver, Joseph Muiruri, is a particularly gruesome case in point.

All in all, despite the setting up of various institutions meant to hold the police to account, shield them from undue interference, and prevent misconduct or correct it where it does occur, police performance has barely changed.

Indeed, even though the government did spend additional resources, for example on cars, police housing, and insurance, this has yet to translate into better police performance and public confidence continues to be low. And despite the setting up of various oversight structures, a culture of non-compliance with the law has developed over the recent years and as a result, the (impact of the) enhanced accountability requirements have remained small, because the root causes of the current policing situation have been left, mostly, unaddressed.

In the current context, with few incentives to reform and just too many benefits to keeping things as they are, as well as limited political commitment to reform, both Cabinet-Secretary and the police leadership are likely to pick only those cherries from the reform package that are useful, and don’t rock the boat too much.

This should not come as a surprise, and unfortunately, all things staying equal, there is no reason to believe this will change in the near future. The current situation simply serves all involved all too well.

 

Sources:
Branch, Daniel, 2011. Kenya, between hope and despair, 1963–2011. New Haven: Yale University Press.

Commission of Inquiry into Post-Election Violence, Republic of Kenya. 2008. Report of the Commission of Inquiry into Post Election Violence. Nairobi: Commission of Inquiry into Post-Election Violence (CIPEV Commission).

Gastrow, Peter, Sept 2011. Termites at work. Transnational organized crime and state erosion in Kenya. New York: International Peace Institute.

Kahumbu, Paula, 2014. The war on poaching cannot be won in the field unless we take on highlevel corruption. The Guardian, 5 May 2014 [online].

National Task Force on Police Reforms, Republic of Kenya, October 2009. Report of the National Task Force on Police Reforms. Nairobi: National Task Force on Police Reforms.

Anneke Osse (2016) Police reform in Kenya: a process of ‘meddling through’, published in Policing and Society, 26(8), pp. 907-924.




David Ndii and Kiriro wa Ngugi’s takes on the SGR

On Madaraka Day 2017, President Uhuru Kenyatta launched the region’s most expensive public works project – the controversial Standard Gauge Railway. Its been the subject of debate for some time…

Kiriro wa Ngugi’s take on the SGR




From ‘Rust Belt’ to ‘Dust Veldt’: Waiting for an African Trump

The man whom Western leaders love to hate may be nearing his end. But those presidents and prime ministers in Europe and North America should go easy on the celebrations, hold back on the cheers. Robert Mugabe’s spirit will live on well after he has gone, inspiring supporters from Kenya to South Africa.

Far from marking closure of the controversy over his brutal seizure of 4,500 white-owned farms in Zimbabwe, President Mugabe’s passing will more likely signal the start of demonstrations of discontent, rolling across the region.  And as the forthcoming elections in the area draw closer, and the social strains and divisions caused by faltering economies intensify, be prepared for southern and eastern Africa’s equivalent of the Trump effect: the emergence of a populist successor to Mugabe.

Whoever it is, whether from Zimbabwe, Kenya or South Africa, they will offer simplistic solutions to the complex consequences of colonialism’s toxic legacy: namely, the dispute over land – who owns it, how they acquired it, what it is being used for, and where the purchase money came from.

And just as President Trump claims to speak for America’s neglected and aggrieved blue collar workers in the so-called ‘rust belt’ states, so a new generation of  radical campaigners in Africa will cloak themselves in the mantle of Mugabe, claim to speak for the ‘masses’ – and take a leaf out of the election book of Donald Trump.

Far from marking closure of the controversy over his brutal seizure of 4,500 white-owned farms in Zimbabwe, President Mugabe’s passing will more likely signal the start of demonstrations of discontent, rolling across the region.

Expect these new Mugabes to tap in to an anger that has built up over decades, comparable to the fury that helped propel Trump to power, as they champion the cause of the region’s neglected electorate, for years effectively disenfranchised by the ‘big man’, pork barrel politics that has dominated  post-independence Africa.

Their constituents are the legions of landless peasants, eking out a precarious life, hit by drought that occurs with ever increasing frequency and land hunger that is compounded by high population growth.

Abandoned by central government, ignored by international bankers, seen as victims rather than participants, the residents of this ‘dust veldt’ have waited in vain for schools for their children and clinics for their families. Promises count for nothing; corruption takes its toll. Life has become intolerable in this forgotten zone, where vast areas are over-grazed, over-peopled and under-resourced.

Little wonder that more and more country dwellers are migrating to the cities, swelling the ranks of the young urban unemployed, their rebellious mood fueled by tantalising glimpses of a world seen through an internet lens. So look out for clashes between the established urban poor and the newcomers from the country, as they battle over jobs and shelter. Ring the alarm bells when tensions spread beyond the towns and cities, and pastoralists fight nomads as both seek grazing for their livestock. And prepare for the worst when the city poor and their country counterparts settle their differences and find common cause.

Like President Trump, he – or she – will point to the past as they identify the causes of this grim state of affairs. For Trump, it is the Washington elite, and years of indifference to the plight of the ‘rust belt’.

Abandoned by central government, ignored by international bankers, seen as victims rather than participants, the residents of this ‘dust veldt’ have waited in vain for schools for their children and clinics for their families. Promises count for nothing; corruption takes its toll. Life has become intolerable in this forgotten zone, where vast areas are over-grazed, over-peopled and under-resourced.

For the African Trump, blame falls on city elites, and central government neglect. But they will also legitimately argue that the rot set in when Europe’s domination of Africa got under way, and efforts to remedy the consequences of the race-based system of land tenure resulted in failure. Western funded schemes to compensate and reassure white farmers, including ‘willing buyer, willing seller’ programmes served the interests of the settlers, seldom those of the natives. Progress towards an equitable system made modest headway: although the African majority won political power,  the struggle to win economic power was to prove more difficult.

Genuine reform required transparency, and a promised change in land ownership had to be part of a wide-ranging economic plan that included a population policy.

Today the consequences of half-hearted reforms, adopted by malleable, newly independent governments, inadequately financed and corruptly implemented, are all too apparent. In Kenya, the population has soared from five million in 1960 to well over 40 million today, while the average size of a shamba has shrunk to a quarter of what it was at independence in 1963.

And in South Africa, instead of grasping the nettle of land reform, and initiating radical change themselves, white farmers have ducked the issue. They have placed their hopes in the country’s constitution, whose architects failed to tackle the historic injustice of racially-determined land tenure. Instead the authors bowed to white economic power, entrenching  the ‘willing seller, willing buyer’ principle that ensures that change to ownership will take place at a glacial pace, while black expectations of change are frustrated.

Today the consequences of half-hearted reforms, adopted by malleable, newly independent governments, inadequately financed and corruptly implemented, are all too apparent.

Today who owns  the land is  as sensitive an issue in southern and eastern Africa as it has ever been.

The case for fundamental reform is compelling; yet the complexities  posed by putting principles of transparency and accountability into practice seem well-nigh overwhelming – until, that is, Africa’s Donald Trump comes on the scene.

One thing seems certain however: the shade of Robert Mugabe will cast a shadow over the region for years to come.

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