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Kenya’s 2019/2020 Budget: A Predatory Scheme Designed for the Hustlers in Government

9 min read. RASNA WARAH argues that the 2019/2020 and other budgets prepared by the Jubilee government are essentially predatory and borrow heavily from the British colonialists’ playbook, which sought to enslave the indigenous population by taxing it. The tax regime is in essence in the service of foreign (previously Western, but now increasingly Chinese) capital and local elites.

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Memo to Uhuru Kenyatta: Finish up and Go
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“Rotich catches up with the real ‘hustlers’ in new tax measures,” screamed the front-page headline in the Standard the day after Treasury Cabinet Secretary, Henry Rotich, read what many view as an illegal Sh3 trillion ($30 billion) budget given that it had not been debated by the National Assembly and considering that a bill that would decide how national revenue would be divided had not yet been passed.

The “real hustlers” that the newspaper was referring to were not people like the Deputy President, William Ruto, who has in the past self-identified himself as a hustler, but people at the bottom of the economic pyramid, including security guards, cleaners, drivers, caterers and boda-boda operators, whose employers will now be forced to deduct 5 per cent withholding tax from their salaries. (Dictionary definition of a hustler: Someone who makes money using dishonest means.)

This means that a security guard in Nairobi who earns Sh15,000 a month will now have to forego Sh750 of his salary – probably the equivalent of half his monthly rent in one of the many sprawling slums in the city. The people Rotich wants to net in the tax bracket are those who make a living carrying out low-paying menial or laborious tasks and who can barely make ends meet. For them every shilling earned counts, and every shilling lost means less food on the table, and more sacrifices.

The newspaper made no mention of the actual hustlers and thieves in government who regularly siphon millions of taxpayers’ shillings by raiding the national treasury or the growing number of politically-connected “tenderpreneurs” who sell fictitious goods to government departments – and get away with it. (To date not a single high or low profile suspect involved in Kenya’s many mega corruption scandals has been convicted.) To describe cleaners and security guards as hustlers is the height of irresponsibility on the part of the Standard’s editors.

The “real hustlers” that the newspaper was referring to were not people like the Deputy President, William Ruto, who has in the past self-identified himself as a hustler, but people at the bottom of the economic pyramid, including security guards, cleaners, drivers, caterers and boda-boda operators, whose employers will now be forced to deduct 5 per cent withholding tax from their salaries.

Nor did this or any other newspaper provide sufficient analysis of what the new tax measures would mean for the economy, apart from that they would generate an additional tax revenue of Sh37 billion (an amount that is less than one-tenth of the total amount of money lost in the Goldenberg, Anglo Leasing and other corruption scandals, including those that have taken place under the watch of the current government). How many mamas selling githeri by the roadside will be affected? How many people doing casual or temporary work or who work in the informal economy will sink further into poverty?

It is not as if Kenyans are not paying enough taxes. The Kenya Revenue Authority (KRA) is expected to raise about Sh2 trillion ($20 billion) this year through direct and indirect taxes, such as income tax and VAT, customs duty, and other levies that Kenyans pay when buying unga, cooking oil, batteries, books (which were tax-exempt until Jubilee came into power), cars, petrol and other commodities.

In fact, most Kenyans are already suffering under a tax regime that can only be described as punitive. Extraordinarily high levies and taxes on electricity (which many believe are illegal) have financially crippled many households already struggling under the weight of the high cost of living. Every Kenyan, whether he or she likes it or not, is a taxpayer because the taxes on every product are inevitably passed on to consumers. And those who are employed in the formal sector cannot avoid being taxed because they end up paying taxes through their employers, who have to submit PAYE taxes to KRA on behalf of their employees.

It is not as if Kenyans are not paying enough taxes. The Kenya Revenue Authority (KRA) is expected to raise about Sh2 trillion ($20 billion) this year through direct and indirect taxes, such as income tax and VAT, customs duty, and other levies that Kenyans pay when buying unga, cooking oil, batteries, books (which were tax-exempt until Jubilee came into power), cars, petrol and other commodities.

The problem of misinterpreting or distorting the 2019/2020 budget and its implications was not just confined to the Standard. While admitting that Rotich (who has allegedly been associated with a conflict of interest issue revolving the Arror and Kimwarer dams project saga) had prepared a budget that “raids the poor”, the Daily Nation erroneously described the budget as “capitalist” – as if to imply that Kenya is not a capitalist country, and that somehow the budget had betrayed the country’s communist inclinations. (Dictionary definition of capitalism: An economic and political system in which a country’s trade and industry are controlled by private owners for profit, rather than by the state. Dictionary definition of communism [the antithesis of capitalism]: a theory or system of social organisation in which all property is vested in the community and each person contributes and receives according to their ability and needs. Note: This form of communism morphed into “state capitalism” in the Soviet Union and China, where all property was not vested in the community, but in the state, which then determined what “the community” was entitled to.) Moreover, the newspaper’s editors failed to appreciate that even the most advanced capitalist societies have safety nets for the poor and state-funded social programmes that are focused on the most vulnerable in society.

The budget is also heavily skewed towards the security sector. For instance, while Sh473 billion is allocated to education (which traditionally has always been allocated the bulk of the national budget in Kenya) a whopping Sh325 billion is allocated to security. When a government starts spending a disproportionate amount of money on security, be sure that there will be a lot of kickbacks involved as most security contracts are highly secretive.

As for the Big Four Agenda plans of President Uhuru Kenyatta to improve food security, to increase access to affordable housing, to make health care universal and to boost local manufacturing (which were allocated Sh450 billion), we are still to see their benefits. One thing I am sure of, however, is that the affordable housing part of the agenda will most likely not impact those most in need of affordable housing, which will remain unaffordable for the majority of urban residents. (For more on this, read my article Faulty Towers published in the eReview.)

Home guards and hut tax

The 2019/2020 and other budgets prepared by the Jubilee government and its mandarins are neither capitalist nor a means to rein in those who break the law or who engage in criminal activities; rather these budgets are essentially predatory and borrow heavily from the British colonialists’ playbook, which sought to enslave the indigenous population by taxing it. The tax regime is in essence in the service of foreign (previously Western, but now increasingly Chinese) capital and local elites.

The budget is also heavily skewed towards the security sector. For instance, while Sh473 billion is allocated to education (which traditionally has always been allocated the bulk of the national budget in Kenya) a whopping Sh325 billion is allocated to security.

For those who have studied Kenyan history (and I believe there are fewer of us left as history has now become an optional subject in Kenyan schools), the process of British colonisation in Kenya was consolidated through what is known as the “hut tax”, which was imposed on indigenous people living in the territory now known as Kenya, and particularly those in the so-called White Highlands of Central Kenya. As a form of “indirect rule” the colonialists co-opted local chiefs whose primary responsibility was to recruit labour and to collect taxes. The “home guards” – as the loyalist chiefs and specially-appointed agents who were in the service of the British were known – were rewarded with plots of land (from which the indigenous people were evicted, thereby becoming squatters on their own land), trade licences and tax exemptions.

In her book Britain’s Gulag: The Brutal End of Empire in Kenya, Caroline Elkins, an American historian, describes how the process of colonisation and land alienation was achieved by white settlers and the colonial administration through a system of taxes:

“Labor was the one factor in the economic equation that the settlers and the colonial government could jointly manipulate, and they did so ruthlessly. Rather than offering wage incentives, the European employers relied upon coercion by the colonial government to recruit African labor, which was, more often than not, drawn from the Kikuyu population then living on the edge of the White Highlands. The government’s guarantee of cheap and bountiful Kikuyu labor was based on a complex set of laws aimed at controlling nearly every aspect of Kikuyu life. Over time, four regulations, together, pushed the Kikuyu off their remaining land and into the exploitative wage economy.”

One of these regulations was the displacement of indigenous populations through the establishment of so-called “African reserves” where each ethnic group was expected to live and eke out a living separately. By confining the “natives” to reserves (which were much like the tribal “homelands” in South Africa and the Native American reservations in the United States) the colonisers forced the local population into a wage economy, as the reserves (usually situated on the least fertile parts of the land) could not sustain them. Furthermore, Africans were forbidden from growing cash crops. Those who grew maize and other staple foods were forced to sell them to marketing boards at a set price. (These boards remain in existence to this day, and have continued to exploit and rob farmers, as has been witnessed in various maize scandals.)

After alienating the locals from their land, the colonialists then imposed a hut and poll tax, which, according to Elkins, amounted to nearly twenty-five shillings, or the equivalent of almost two months of African wages at the going local rate. This forced thousands of Kikuyus to migrate in search of paid work. Many women in Central Kenya, who could not afford to pay the hut tax, were forced to migrate to Nairobi, where they made a living through commercial sex work or informal trade. To add insult to injury, these migrants were then forced to carry a kipande (pass) which was used to monitor their movements and keep track of their employment histories.

In her book Britain’s Gulag: The Brutal End of Empire in Kenya, Caroline Elkins, an American historian, describes how the process of colonisation and land alienation was achieved by white settlers and the colonial administration through a system of taxes

When Kenya gained independence, the former home guards became the biggest beneficiaries of land left behind by the departing British. Funded resettlement schemes were manipulated in their favour, and many dispossessed Kenyans found that independence did not result in freedom from want. The new elite class of post-colonial rulers who had benefitted from the colonial system decided to continue with the plunder and exploitation of their own people. The Mau Mau movement, which had struggled to regain land from the colonialists, was outlawed and its members found themselves either landless or forced to eke out a dehumanising existence in slums. In essence, the departing British colonisers never left – they left their agents behind who could be relied on not to disrupt Britain’s hold on its former colony.

Debt and plunder

The plunder of not just Kenya but the whole of Africa has continued unabated since then. According to “Honest Accounts 2017: How the World Profits from Africa’s Wealth”, a report by a consortium of civil society organisations, including Global Justice Now and the Jubilee Debt Campaign, African countries are collectively net creditors to the rest of the world, to the tune of $41.3 billion in 2015. African countries received $161.1 billion in the form of loans, personal remittances and grants in 2015, but $203 billion was taken from the continent; of this, $48 billion was money taken out through “trade mis-invoicing” (a form of tax evasion) by multinational companies. While African countries receive $31 billion in personal remittances from overseas annually, multinational companies operating on the continent repatriate $32 billion in profits to their home countries every year. African governments received $32.8 billion in loans in 2015 but paid $18 billion in debt interest and principal payments.

With rising debt owed to the emerging neocolonial masters in Kenya (such as the Chinese Communist Party), it is likely that this exploitation in the service of foreigner interests will continue. Public debt in Kenya stands at Sh5.4 trillion ($54 billion). Beginning in July this year, Kenya will spend Sh800 billion ($8 billion, or nearly a quarter of the current budget) annually to service maturing loans owed mostly to foreign (read Chinese and European) lenders.

It is possible that given Kenya’s ballooning debt, the Jubilee government felt that the only way to prevent the Chinese government from taking over our ports, airports and other infrastructure in case of non-repayment (as it has done in other countries, such as Sri Lanka) was to tax everyone, including those least able to afford it. But the question remains: In whose name did the Jubilee government accept to sign a highly irresponsible and secretive loan agreement (whose contents remain unknown to the public to date) with the Chinese? Were wananchi or the country’s legislators consulted on whether to go ahead with the standard gauge railway (SGR) and other expensive Chinese-funded projects (which appear to heavily favour the Chinese, as recent reports have indicated)? And now that it finds itself unable to service these loans (partly because the SGR has not yielded expected revenue for the Kenyan government), what moral or legal authority does the government have to tax its citizens to service them?

Moreover, given the corruption scandals in the country – which have reached unprecedented levels under Jubilee – what incentive does an ordinary Kenyan have to further fund a government whose leaders (including at the county level) have become adept at stealing taxpayers’ money? Not to mention that every year the Auditor General reports that more than a third of the national budget is unaccounted for or lost to fraud. (That could mean Sh1 trillion or $10 billion lost to corruption or fraud this financial year.) And while an increasing numbers of Kenyans are being forced to go without essential items and services, no austerity measures have been imposed on our legislators – Kenya’s pampered and shameless lawmakers continue to earn salaries and allowances that rival those of lawmakers in rich industrialised countries.

Kenya is neither a capitalist country nor a developmental state. Nor is it a command-and-control economy along the lines of China. It is a predatory state that benefits only a few chosen elite, and has remained so since the days of colonialism. What’s worse, most trade unions, consumer watchdog associations, and state environmental agencies exist in name only, which means that the majority of Kenyans are left to their own devices to defend their interests.

A boycott or protest of some sort might be required to stop the bleeding. But even the Kenyan government knows that a people whose lives are dominated by survival issues and worries about paying bills and taxes will not have the energy to revolt. Like the dispossessed Kikuyus in Central Kenya, we will work even harder as we watch our resources being forcefully taken away from us by the very people who demand taxes from us so that they can continue with the plunder. (We Kenyans are submissive law-abiding citizens, after all, even if the law has the potential to strangle and kill us. We are deeply religious too.)

But then, that is what Omar al-Bashir believed until the Sudanese people decided that enough is enough.

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Ms Warah, the author of War Crimes, a sweeping indictment of foreign meddling in Somalia, and A Triple Heritage, among several other books, is also a freelance journalist based in Malindi, Kenya.

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South Africa: Xenophobia Is in Fact Afrophobia, Call It What It Is

5 min read. Anti-African violence in South Africa is fuelled by exclusion, poverty and rampant unemployment. This isn’t black-on-black violence. This is poor-on-poor violence.

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South Africa: Xenophobia Is in Fact Afrophobia, Call It What It Is
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Written in May 2008, as African bodies burned on the streets of South Africa, Ingrid De Kok’s throbbing poem Today I Do Not Love My Country poignantly captures the mood of an Afrophobic nation fluent in the language of violence and name-calling.  (I say Afrophobic because South Africa does not have a xenophobia problem. We don’t rage against all foreigners—just the poor, black ones from Africa.)

The irony of South Africa’s most recent attacks on African immigrants is that they happened in the wake of the African Continental Free Trade Agreement which positions the country as an economic gateway to the continent. As the debris is cleared off the streets of Johannesburg after a week of violent looting and attacks against African migrant-owned businesses that saw eleven people killed and almost 500 arrested, Pretoria now faces calls to boycott South African-owned businesses on the continent.

Zambia and Madagascar cancelled football matches. Air Tanzania has suspended flights to South Africa. African artists are boycotting South Africa. Should an Afrophobic South Africa lead the African Union next year?

The irony of South Africa’s most recent attacks on African immigrants is that they happened in the wake of the African Continental Free Trade Agreement which positions the country as an economic gateway to the continent

The South African government has remained steadfast in its denial of Afrophobia, opting instead to condemn “violent attacks” and highlight the criminal elements involved in looting African-owned businesses. The police attributed the attacks to “opportunistic criminality”. By denying that these are Afrophobic attacks, everyone can deny the role of South Africa’s political leadership in fomenting the hatred.

The Afrophobic attacks are not spontaneous criminal mobs preying on foreigners. They are the result of an orchestrated, planned campaign that has been fuelled by the ongoing anti-immigrant rhetoric of South African politicians.

The All Truck Drivers Forum (ATDF), Sisonke People’s Forum and Respect SA stand accused of orchestrating last week’s violence. ATDF spokesperson, Sipho Zungu, denied that his group had instigated the violent looting, saying that “the nation is being misled here.” Zungu did stress, however, that South African truck drivers “no longer have jobs” and the government “must get rid of foreign truck drivers.”

Zungu echoes the sentiments of many poor South Africans, and their views are the end result of a drip-feed of anti-immigrant messages from South African politicians, particularly in the run-up to this year’s elections.

Anti-African violence in South Africa is fuelled by exclusion, poverty and rampant unemployment. This isn’t black-on-black violence. This is poor-on-poor violence.

One-third of South Africans are unemployed. Thirteen per cent of South Africans live in informal settlements, and a third of South Africans don’t have access to running water. The problems are a combination of the country’s apartheid past and rampant corruption and mismanagement within the ANC-led government. Crime is climbing, mainly due to corrupt and dysfunctional policing services, high unemployment and systemic poverty.

By denying that these are Afrophobic attacks, everyone can deny the role of South Africa’s political leadership in fomenting the hatred.

South African politicians from across the spectrum have blamed immigrants for the hardships experienced by poor South Africans. Political parties tell voters that foreigners are criminals flooding South Africa, stealing their jobs, homes and social services, undermining their security and prosperity.

Even the government sees poor and unskilled African migrants and asylum seekers as a threat to the country’s security and prosperity. Approved in March 2017, its White Paper on International Migration, separates immigrants into “worthy” and “unworthy” individuals. Poor and unskilled immigrants, predominantly from Africa, will be prevented from staying in South Africa by any means, “even if this is labelled anti-African behaviour” as the former Minister of Home Affairs, Hlengiwe Mkhize, pointed out in June 2017. The message is simple: there is no place for black Africans in South Africa’s Rainbow Nation.

In November 2018, Health Minister Aaron Motsoaledi claimed in a speech at a nurses summit that undocumented immigrants were flooding South Africa and overburdening clinics and hospitals. When immigrants “get admitted in large numbers, they cause overcrowding, infection control starts failing”, he said.

Johannesburg—the epicentre of the anti-African violence—is run by the Democratic Alliance (DA), the second-largest political party in South Africa after the ruling African National Congress (ANC). DA mayor, Herman Mashaba, has been leading the war against African immigrants.

In a bid to attract more support, Mashaba and the DA have adopted an immigrant-baiting approach straight out of Donald Trump and Jair Bolsonaro’s playbooks.

Mashaba has described black African migrants as criminals and has spoken of the need for a “shock-and-awe” campaign to drive them out.

In February 2019, Mashaba diverted attention away from protests against his administration’s poor service delivery in Johannesburg’s Alexandra township by tweeting that foreigners had made it difficult to provide basic services.

On August 1, police operations in Johannesburg to find counterfeit goods were thwarted by traders who pelted law-enforcement authorities with rocks, forcing the police to retreat. Social media went into overdrive, with many accusing the police of being cowards running away from illegal immigrants. Mashaba was “devastated” by the police’s restraint. A week later over 500 African immigrants were arrested after a humiliating raid, even though many said they showed police valid papers.

In 2017, South Africa’s deputy police minister claimed that the city of Johannesburg had been taken over by foreigners, with 80% of the city controlled by them. If this is not urgently stopped, he added, the entire country “could be 80% dominated by foreign nationals and the future president of South Africa could be a foreign national.”

None of this anti-immigrant rhetoric is based on fact. Constituting just 3% of the South African population, statistics show that immigrants are not “flooding” South Africa. They aren’t stealing jobs from South Africans and nor are they responsible for the high crime rate. South Africa’s crime problem has little to do with migration, and everything to do with the country’s dysfunctional policing services, unemployment and poverty.

Johannesburg—the epicentre of the anti-African violence—is run by the Democratic Alliance (DA), the second-largest political party in South Africa after the ruling African National Congress (ANC). DA mayor, Herman Mashaba, has been leading the war against African immigrants.

But South African politicians don’t let facts get in the way.  After all, it’s easier to blame African immigrants rather than face your own citizens and admit that you’ve chosen to line your own pockets instead of doing your job. If you can get others to shoulder the blame for the hopeless situation that many South Africans find themselves in, then why not?

South Africans are rightfully angry at the high levels of unemployment, poverty, lack of services and opportunities. But rather than blame African immigrants, frustration must be directed at the source of the crisis: a South African political leadership steeped in corruption that has largely failed its people.

The African Diaspora Forum, the representative body of the largest group of migrant traders, claimed that the police failed to act on intelligence that it had provided warning of the impending attacks. It took almost three days before Cyril Ramaphosa finally issued weak words of condemnation and for his security cluster to meet and strategise.  All of this points to a government refusing to own its complicity and deal with the consequences of its words.

South Africa has fallen far and hard from the lofty Mandela era and Thabo Mbeki’s soaring “I am an African” declaration.

Senior political leaders in South Africa are blaming vulnerable Africans for their failure to adequately provide a dignified life for all South Africans. Until this scapegoating stops, violent anti-African sentiment will continue to thrive, and South Africa will entrench its growing pariah status on the continent.

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A New Despotism in the Era of Surveillance Capitalism: A Reflection on Census 2019

6 min read. In the creeping securocratisation of every sphere of the State, the incessant threats and arbitrary orders, the renewed quest for that elusive all-encompassing kipande, and even the arbitrary assignment of identity on citizens, Montesquieu would see a marked deficiency of love for virtue, the requisite principle for a democratic republic.

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A New Despotism in the Era of Surveillance Capitalism: A Reflection on Census 2019
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The just concluded census 2019 brought with it many strange occurrences including the official classification of my good friend Rasna Warah as a Mtaita, a community to which she is only very remotely connected by virtue of being married to a husband whose mother is a Mtaveta. The Taita and Taveta, who give their home county Taita-Taveta its name, are two related but distinct ethnic groups. Rasna’s ethnicity is unambiguous, she is a Kenyan Asian, which should be one of the ethnicities available on the census questionnaire.

In standard statistical practice, people’s racial and ethnic identity are self-declared and the identity questions usually have options such as “other” and “mixed” as well as the choice not to disclose. But Rasna was not given a choice, as she recounts here. While this may seem like a trivial matter, the undercurrents of racism and patriarchy in this action are disturbing. It is, I think, even more alarming that the enumerators, given a little authority, felt that they had the power to exercise discretion on the matter.

Past censuses have been rather uneventful statistical exercises. This one had the aura of a security operation. In the run-up, we were treated to all manner of threats and arbitrary orders from the Internal Security Cabinet Secretary, the Jubilee administration’s energetic and increasingly facile enforcer. On the eve of the census, the government spokesman added to the melodrama by issuing a statement informing the public that census enumerators would be asking for personal identification details, including national ID and passport numbers and, ominously, huduma namba registration status. There are few issues as controversial right now as huduma namba and to introduce that question was a sure way of heightening suspicion and undermining the credibility of the census.

More fundamentally, anonymity is a canon of statistical survey work. In fact, the law prohibits dissemination of any information which can be identified with a particular respondent without the respondent’s consent. For this reason, censuses and statistical surveys are usually designed and the data maintained in such a way as to ensure that the respondents remain anonymous.

In October last year, the Government gazetted the census regulations that include a schedule of the information that would be collected. Identity information is not listed in the schedule. In January this year, the Keya National Bureau of Statistics (KNBS) issued a media briefing, still on their website, that also listed the information that would be collected. It too does not mention identity information. That it was the Government spokesman—and not the KNBS—who appraised the public, and only on the eve of the census, is telling.

The response to the protestations that met the disclosure was vintage Jubilee—dishonest and inept. The spokesman explained that the personal identity information would be removed to restore the anonymity of the data. If indeed the purpose was to establish registration coverage, the professional statisticians would have asked respondents to state their registration status. Moreover, for planning purposes, professional statisticians would have designed a comprehensive module that would have included other critical information such as birth registration status.

The draconian zeal with which huduma namba is being pursued—including the proposed legislation—is all the more perplexing because, since all the functions listed are those that are currently served by the national ID, the sensible thing to do would be to upgrade the national ID. Seeing as we have already had three national ID upgrades since independence, it seems to me unlikely that a fourth upgrade would have generated the heat that the huduma namba has.

In The Spirit of the Laws, Montesquieu classified political systems into three categories, namely republican, monarchical and despotic. He defined a republican system as characterised by citizenship rights. A republican system is democratic if political equality is universal, and aristocratic if the rights are a privilege that is denied to some members (e.g. slaves). In monarchical systems, the rulers have absolute authority governed by established rules. In a despotic system, the ruler is the law.

Montesquieu postulated for each system a driving principle, ethos if you like, on which its survival depends. The driving principle of a democratic republic is love of virtue— a willingness to put the public good ahead of private interests. He opined that a republican government failed to take root in England after the Civil War (1642-1651) because English society lacked the required principle, namely the love of virtue. The short-lived English republic, known as the Commonwealth of England, lasted a decade, from the beheading of Charles I in 1649 to shortly after the death Oliver Cromwell in 1659. The driving principle of monarchical systems is love of honour and the quest for higher social rank and privilege. For despotism it is fear of the ruler. The rulers are the law, and they rule by fear.

In The Spirit of the Laws, Montesquieu classified political systems into three categories, namely republican, monarchical and despotic. He defined a republican system as characterised by citizenship rights.

Identity documents are a key element of the apparatus of despotism. Our own identity card has its origins in the colonial kipande (passbook). As Juliet Atellah narrates in Toa Kitambulisho! Evolution of Registration of Persons in Kenya,

“The Kipande was worn around the neck like a dog collar. The Kipande contained the wearer’s tribe, their strengths and weaknesses and comments from his employer on his competence, therefore, determining his pay or whether or not he would be employed. The government used the Kipande to curtail freedom of Africans and monitor labour supply. It also empowered the police to stop a native anywhere and demand to be shown the document. For Africans, the Kipande was like a badge of slavery and sparked bitter protests.”

In essence, the kipande was a surveillance tool for an indentured labour system which enabled the settler economy to suppress wages. But it was not perfect. Keren Weitzberg, a migration scholar and author of We Do Not Have Borders: Greater Somalia and the Predicaments of Belonging in Kenya, makes an interesting and insightful contextual link between huduma namba and the colonial quest to better the kipande revealed in a recommendation that appears in a 1956 government document:

“Consideration should be given to the provision of a comprehensive document for Africans, as is done in the Union of South Africa and the Belgian Congo. This should incorporate Registration particulars, payment of Poll Tax, and such other papers as the African is required to carry or are envisaged for him, e.g. Domestic Service record and permit to reside in urban areas. Eligibility under the Coutts proposals for voting might also be included in the document. The document would then become of value to the holder and there would be less likelihood of its becoming lost or transferred, as is the case with the present Identity document.” 

The purpose of the huduma namba is the same as that of the “comprehensive document for Africans”—to instill in people the sense that Big Brother is watching. But despotism is not an end in itself. The raison d’être of the colonial enterprise was economic exploitation. This has not changed.

The 2001 Nobel Prize for Economics was shared by George Akerlof, Michael Spence and Joseph Stiglitz for their analysis of markets with asymmetric information. A market with asymmetric information is one where material attributes of a good or service are private information known only to the seller and not observable by the buyer; the seller has an incentive to conceal the attributes. In essence, it is a market where the buyer cannot be sure that they will get what they pay for. Asymmetric information problems are pervasive in labour and credit markets.

Identity documents are a key element of the apparatus of despotism. Our own identity card has its origins in the colonial kipande (passbook). As Juliet Atellah narrates in Toa Kitambulisho! Evolution of Registration of Persons in Kenya

A potential employer cannot tell in advance whether a worker is a performer or not, or even whether he or she is dishonest—they only get to know that after hiring the worker, and at considerable cost if they get it wrong. We know that job seekers go out of their way to misrepresent themselves, including faking qualifications and references, and concealing adverse information such as previous dismissals and criminal records. To mitigate the problem, employers go out of their way to obtain and check out references including certificates of good conduct from the police.

The original kipande, as Atellah notes, included information on the bearers “strengths and weaknesses and comments from his employer on his competence.” It does not require too much imagination to see how errant natives would have made for a severe labour market information asymmetry problem, motivating the settler economy to invent this seemingly innocuous but probably effective labour market information system.

Similarly, a potential borrower’s creditworthiness is not observable to lenders. Lenders only get to sort out good and bad borrowers from experience. A customer’s credit history is a lender’s most valuable asset. A public credit reference system, such as the Credit Reference Bureaus, is a device for mitigating credit market information asymmetry. The parallel with the kipande character reference is readily apparent.

In essence, the kipande was a surveillance tool for an indentured labour system which enabled the settler economy to suppress wages.

As a credit information system, the digital panopticon envisaged by huduma namba is priceless, and as one of the country’s leading mobile lenders, the Kenyatta family-owned Commercial Bank of Africa (CBA) is the primary beneficiary. Indeed, well before the public was informed about it, huduma namba featured prominently in a CBA-led mobile lending platform project called Wezeshafeatured in this column—that was subsequently rebranded and launched as Stawi.

Nine years ago this week, we promulgated a new constitution. Since its enactment the political and bureaucratic establishment has spared no effort to restore the unfettered discretion and apparatus of rule by fear that the new constitutional dispensation is meant to dismantle. Early in its term, the Jubilee administration sought to pass a raft of security-related legislation that would have clawed back most of the civil liberties enshrined in the Bill of Rights. Uhuru Kenyatta is on record, in one of the pre-election TV interviews, attributing his underwhelming performance to the constraints on his authority by the 2010 Constitution. He went on to express nostalgia for the old one.

In the creeping securocratisation of every sphere of the State, the incessant threats and arbitrary orders, the renewed quest for that elusive all-encompassing kipande, and even the arbitrary assignment of identity on citizens, Montesquieu would see a marked deficiency of love for virtue, the requisite principle for a democratic republic.

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Africa and Palestine: A Noble Legacy That Must Never Be Forgotten

4 min read. Today’s generation of African leaders should not deviate from that the solidarity between Africa and Palestine. Indeed, writes RAMZY BAROUD If they betray it, they betray themselves, along with the righteous struggles of their own peoples.

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Africa and Palestine: A Noble Legacy That Must Never Be Forgotten
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Europe’s “Scramble for Africa” began in earnest in 1881 but never ended. The attempt at dominating the continent using old and new strategies continues to define the Western relationship with this rich continent. This reality was very apparent when I arrived in Nairobi on June 23. Although I had come to address various Kenyan audiences at universities, public forums and the media, I had also to learn. Kenya, like the rest of Africa, is a source of inspiration for all anti-colonial liberation movements around the world. We Palestinians can learn a great deal from the Kenyan struggle.

Although African countries have fought valiant battles for their freedom against their Western colonisers, neocolonialism now defines the relationship between many independent African countries and their former occupiers. Political meddling, economic control and, at times, military interventions – as in the recent cases of Libya and Mali – point to the unfortunate reality that Africa remains, in myriad ways, hostage to Western priorities, interests and dictates.

In the infamous Berlin Conference of 1884, Western colonial regimes attempted to mediate between the various powers that were competing over Africa’s riches. It apportioned to each a share of the African continent, as if Africa were the property of the West and its white colonists. Millions of Africans died in that protracted, bloody episode unleashed by the West, which shamelessly promoted its genocidal oppression as a civilisational project.

Like most colonised peoples in the southern hemisphere, Africans fought disproportionate battles to gain their precious freedom. Here in Kenya, which became an official British colony in the 1920s, Kenya’s freedom fighters rose in rebellion against the brutality of their oppressors. Most notable among the various resistance campaigns, the Mau Mau rebellion of the 1950s remains a stark example of the courage of Kenyans and the cruelty of colonial Britain. Thousands of people were killed, wounded, disappeared or were imprisoned under the harshest of conditions.

Palestine fell under British occupation, the so-called British Mandate, around the same period that Kenya also became a British colony. Palestinians, too, fought and fell in their thousands as they employed various methods of collective resistance, including the legendary strike and rebellion of 1936. The same British killing machine that operated in Palestine and Kenya around that time, also operated, with the same degree of senseless violence, against numerous other nations around the world.

While Palestine was handed over to the Zionist movement to establish the state of Israel in May 1948, Kenya achieved its independence in December 1963.

At one of my recent talks in Nairobi, I was asked by a young participant about “Palestinian terrorism”. I told her that Palestinian fighters of today are Kenya’s Mau Mau rebels of yesteryear. That if we allow Western and Israeli propaganda to define Paestine’s national liberation discourse, then we condemn all national liberation movements throughout the southern hemisphere, including Kenya’s own freedom fighters.

We Palestinians must however shoulder part of the blame that our narrative as an oppressed, colonised and resisting nation is now misunderstood in parts of Africa.

When the Palestine Liberation Organisation committed its historical blunder by signing off Palestinian rights in Oslo in 1993, it abandoned a decades-long Palestinian discourse of resistance and liberation. Instead, it subscribed to a whole new discourse, riddled with carefully-worded language sanctioned by Washington and its European allies. Whenever Palestinians dared to deviate from their assigned role, the West would decree that they must return to the negotiating table, as the latter became a metaphor of obedience and submission.

Throughout these years, Palestinians mostly abandoned their far more meaningful alliances in Africa. Instead, they endlessly appealed to the goodwill of the West, hoping that the very colonial powers that have primarily created, sustained and armed Israel, would miraculously become more balanced and humane.

When the Palestine Liberation Organisation committed its historical blunder by signing off Palestinian rights in Oslo in 1993, it abandoned a decades-long Palestinian discourse of resistance and liberation.

However, Washington, London, Paris, Berlin, etc., remained committed to Israel and, despite occasional polite criticism of the Israeli government, continued to channel their weapons, warplanes and submarines to every Israeli government that has ruled over Palestinians for the last seven decades. Alas, while Palestinians were learning their painful lesson, betrayed repeatedly by those who had vowed to respect democracy and human rights, many African nations began seeing in Israel a possible ally. Kenya is, sadly, one of those countries.

Understanding the significance of Africa in terms of its economic and political potential, and its support for Israel at the UN General Assembly, right-wing Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu has launched his own “Scramble for Africa”. Netanyahu’s diplomatic conquests on the continent have been celebrated by Israeli media as “historic”, while the Palestinian leadership remains oblivious to the rapidly changing political landscape.

Kenya is one of Israel’s success stories. In November 2017, Netanyahu attended the inauguration of President Uhuru Kenyatta. Netanyahu was seen embracing Kenyatta as a dear friend and ally even as Kenyans rose in rebellion against their corrupt ruling classes. Tel Aviv had hoped that the first-ever Israel-Africa summit in Togo would usher in a complete paradigm shift in Israeli-African relations. However, the October 2017 conference never took place due to pressure by various African countries, including South Africa. There is still enough support for Palestine on the continent to defeat the Israeli stratagem. But that could change soon in favour of Israel if Palestinians and their allies do not wake up to the alarming reality.

The Palestinian leadership, intellectuals, artists and civil society ambassadors must shift their attention back to the southern hemisphere, to Africa in particular, rediscovering the untapped wealth of true, unconditional human solidarity offered by the peoples of this ever-generous continent.

Kenya is one of Israel’s success stories. In November 2017, Netanyahu attended the inauguration of President Uhuru Kenyatta. Netanyahu was seen embracing Kenyatta as a dear friend and ally even as Kenyans rose in rebellion against their corrupt ruling classes

The legendary Tanzanian freedom fighter, Mwalimu Julius Nyerere, who is also celebrated in Kenya, knew very well where his solidarity lay. “We have never hesitated in our support for the right of the people of Palestine to have their own land,” he once said, a sentiment that was repeated by the iconic South African leader Nelson Mandela, and by many other African liberation leaders. Today’s generation of African leaders should not deviate from that noble legacy. If they betray it, they betray themselves, along with the righteous struggles of their own peoples.

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