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One Man, One Shilling Politics: A Return to Inequitable Development, Marginalisation and Exclusion

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Since assuming office in 2013, Uhuru Kenyatta has done everything that he could possibly do to undermine the 2010 Constitution, and the politics of “one man, one shilling” now being touted as a formula for revenue sharing is a complete reversal of the principle of equitable development for an equitable society enshrined therein.

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One Man, One Shilling Politics: A Return to Inequitable Development, Marginalisation and Exclusion
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As public finance advisor to the Committee of Experts (COE), I was the principal author of the “layman’s draft” of Chapter 12 of the Constitution of Kenya 2010.

On the matter of revenue sharing, the 2010 Constitution uses the word “basis” as opposed to “formula.” There is in fact no reference to “formula” anywhere in the articles on revenue sharing. This is on purpose. The reason is as follows: There are two basic models of fiscal equalisation, namely the formula and the institution model. Systems that use formulas do not have standing institutions such as the Commision for Revenue Allocation (CRA). Formulas are developed by ad hoc technical teams and passed into law. When the law is due for revision, another ad hoc team is constituted to do so. Formulas are problematic for the very reasons that are playing out now. Once enacted, they put the country in a straightjacket that it is forced to live with until the next revision is due.

We were alive to the fact that the history of inequitable “sharing of the national cake” as we call it, is a highly emotive and divisive issue and, indeed, one of the core grievances identified in the Agenda 4 items of the National Accord. We recognised that the country would be on a learning curve for a considerable period and, anticipating that the allocation process had the potential for exacerbating instead of healing ethnic divisions, we felt that we needed a credible authoritative team of “honest brokers” to navigate the country through the transition. The “original sin” of the current standoff is that the CRA adopted the very formula for which it had been envisaged as an alternative.

The current dispute centres on whether to put more weight on population or on geography in the formula. This dispute, as far as the spirit and letter of the constitution is concerned, is completely misplaced.

The overarching principle to be used as a basis for revenue allocation is spelled out in the Principles of Public Finance (Article 201), specifically 201(b) which states that “the public finance system shall promote an equitable society” and 201(b) (iii) which says that “expenditure shall promote the equitable development of the country, including by making special provisions for marginalised groups and areas”. (emphasis mine).

“Equitable society” and “equitable development” are defined by outcomes such as income per person, life expectancy, school enrollment and education outcomes, access to healthcare, etc. Put differently, this part of the “social contract” that we entered into in August 2010 obliges the state to redress the legacy of inequitable development, marginalisation and exclusion, and to pursue development convergence across the country. While development disparities may persist for different reasons, no community or part of Kenya is entitled to more development than the other using public money. Any distribution of public resources which portends reinforcing these disparities, or creating new ones, is unconstitutional.

We envisaged the “basis” as a goal-oriented process that would arrive at five-year development convergence targets followed by estimation of the resource distribution required to meet those targets. To illustrate, according to the last Demographic and Health Survey (2014) the national under-five mortality rate was 52/1000, lowest in Central at 42/1000 and highest in Nyanza at 82/1000. The mortality rate in North-Eastern stood at 44/1000, slightly above that in Central. Nyanza and Central are equally populous. It is evident that neither population nor geography captures the health inequality that needs to be addressed. The correct “basis” for allocation in this case is the resources required to bring Nyanza’s child survival rate to the national average.

Similary we know that Northern Kenya is grossly underserved in terms of infrastructure. Marsabit County (66,000 km2, Pop. 460,000) is 45 times larger than Kirinyaga (1,500 km2, Pop. 610,000). What would be the rationale for allocating infrastructure money in Marsabit and Kirinyaga based on population?

At 16,000 km2, the amount of land classified as of high agricultural potential (1000mm rainfall p.a.) in Marsabit is one-third bigger than the five counties of the old Central Province (12,000 km2). This potential is underexploited, while that of Central is more or less exhausted. Where, then, should more agricultural development money go?

We envisaged the CRA as a think tank that would provide technical support of this nature to the Senate and also facilitate building a consensus not just within parliament but with the citizenry as well. This, however, does not preclude the process using models and formulas as technical tools but the final product tabled in the Senate for adoption should be a consensus document. This must necessarily begin with objectives, that is, what we are setting out to achieve. For instance, if we set a target of a maximum child mortality rate of 40/1000, then it follows that the gap between the baseline and the target should be the basis for revenue allocation. If we are not agreed on the destination, then it is doubtful that we can agree on the route.

This crisis, then, provides an opportunity for the Senate to abandon the formula straightjacket. We now have seven years of data on the cost of providing services in different parts of the country. We also have good enough socio-economic data to evaluate progress on equitable development.

The politics of “one man, one shilling” is a complete reversal of this principle. It is an attempt to return the country to the trickle-down paradigm of Sessional Paper No.10 of 1965, to wit, “development money should be invested where it will yield the largest increase in net output. This approach will clearly favour the development of areas having abundant natural resources, good land and rainfall, transport and power facilities, and people receptive to, and active in development” (emphasis mine).

We have seen the National Government spend over Sh30b on a transmission line to evacuate wind power from Marsabit to serve these so-called “high potential areas and people”. The people of Marsabit get nothing for their wind resources, and when it comes to sharing revenue, the contribution of the wind resource to the revenue counts for nothing. We have seen the national government rush to Turkana to develop infrastructure to exploit oil, but when it comes to revenue allocation, the investment the oil has brought into the country counts for nothing for the people of Turkana. We have seen the national government pour billions into the Galana-Kulalu Irrigation scheme—notwithstanding the fact agriculture is a devolved function—to meet the food deficit of the high potential areas, yet when it comes to revenue, the envisaged contribution of Tana River people’s land and water resources to national food security counts for nothing. This model of controlling and exploiting the resources in the periphery for the benefit of the centre is called colonialism.

Since assuming office in 2013, Uhuru Kenyatta has done everything that he could possibly do to undermine the 2010 Constitution. He has sought to pass retrogressive security laws. He has led the impunity of disobeying court orders. He has bankrupted the country through reckless borrowing in the quest to overshadow the county governments in development spending, including the medical equipment mega-corruption racket that we now know was executed and controlled from State House. Pronouncements by both the Kenyatta and Odinga camps on this conflict have revealed that the Building Bridges Initiative is a Trojan horse for this nefarious agenda. It is this Kikuyu supremacist ideology and hegemonic agenda that brought Kenya to the brink in 2007/8. Uhuru Kenyatta has tempted fate once. He seems to have learned nothing.

At the core of our constitutional dispensation is a covenant to uphold the dignity of every citizen, every community, every region. The overarching principle of public finance, namely an equitable society, enunciated in Article 201 and also enshrined in Social and Economic Rights (Article 43) represents the consummation of this covenant.

More fundamentally, it is the political bargain underpinning Kenya as a unitary state. If Kenyatta and his Kikuyu supremacist cabal feel it is intolerable, there is always the alternative of a full federal system. Mombasa and Lamu get to keep their ports. Turkana gets to develop its oil resources. Marsabit gets to charge for its wind resources. The Tsavo National Park reverts to Taita-Taveta County.

Tyranny of numbers, domination of the weak by the strong, and ethnic superiority complexes, this is not an option. Without a commitment to equitable development, there is no social contract, which is to say that, sooner or later, there will be no Kenya.

Divorce is also an option.

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David Ndii
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David Ndii is a leading Kenyan economist and public intellectual.

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Haiti: The Struggle for Democracy, Justice, Reparations and the Black Soul

Only the Haitian people can decide their own future. The dictatorship imposed by former president Jovenel Moïse and its imperialist enablers need to go – and make space for a people’s transition government.

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Haiti: The Struggle for Democracy, Justice, Reparations and the Black Soul
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Haiti is once again going through a profound crisis. Central to this is the struggle against the dictatorship imposed by former president Jovenel Moïse. Since last year Mr. Moise, after decreeing the dismissal of Parliament, has been ruling through decrees, permanently violating Haiti’s constitution. He has refused to leave power after his mandate ended on February 7, 2021, claiming that it ends on February 7 of next year, without any legal basis.

This disregard of the constitution is taking place despite multiple statements by the country’s main judicial bodies, such as the CSPJ (Superior Council of Judicial Power) and the Association of Haitian Lawyers. Numerous religious groups and numerous institutions that are representative of society have also spoken. At this time, there is a strike by the judiciary, which leaves the country without any public body of political power.

At the same time, this institutional crisis is framed in the insecurity that affects practically all sectors of Haitian society. An insecurity expressed through savage repressions of popular mobilizations by the PNH (Haitian National Police), which at the service of the executive power. They have attacked journalists and committed various massacres in poor neighborhoods. Throughout the country, there have been assassinations and arbitrary arrests of opponents.

Most recently, a judge of the High Court was detained under the pretext of promoting an alleged plot against the security of the State and to assassinate the president leading to the illegal and arbitrary revocation of three judges of this Court. This last period has also seen the creation of hundreds of armed groups that spread terror over the entire country and that respond to power, transforming kidnapping into a fairly prosperous industry for these criminals.

The 13 years of military occupation by United Nations troops through MINUSTAH and the operations of prolongation of guardianship through MINUJUSTH and BINUH have aggravated the Haitian crisis. They supported retrograde and undemocratic sectors who, along with gangsters, committed serious crimes against the Haitian people and their fundamental rights.

For this, the people of Haiti deserve a process of justice and reparations. They have paid dearly for the intervention of MINUSTAH: 30 THOUSAND DEAD from cholera transmitted by the soldiers, thousands of women raped, who now raise orphaned children. Nothing has changed in 13 years, more social inequality, poverty, more difficulties for the people. The absence of democracy stays the same.

The poor’s living conditions have worsened dramatically as a result of more than 30 years of neoliberal policies imposed by the International Financial Institutions (IFIs), a severe exchange rate crisis, the freezing of the minimum wage, and inflation above 20% during the last three years.

It should be emphasized that, despite this dramatic situation, the Haitian people remain firm and are constantly mobilizing to prevent the consolidation of a dictatorship by demanding the immediate leave of office by former President Jovenel Moïse.

Taking into account the importance of this struggle and that this dictatorial regime still has the support of imperialist governments such as the United States of America, Canada, France, and international organizations such as the UN, the OAS, and the EU, the IPA calls its members to contribute their full and active solidarity to the struggle of the Haitian people, and to sign this Petition that demands the end of the dictatorship as well as respect for the sovereignty and self-determination of the Haitian people, the establishment of a transition government led by Haitians to launch a process of authentic national reconstruction.

In addition to expressing our solidarity with the Haitian people’s resistance, we call for our organisations to demonstrate in front of the embassies of the imperialist countries and before the United Nations. Only the Haitian people can decide their future. Down with Moise and yes to a people’s transition government, until a constituent is democratically elected.

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Deconstructing the Whiteness of Christ

While many African Christians can only imagine a white Jesus, others have actively promoted a vision of a brown or black Jesus, both in art and in ideology.

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Deconstructing the Whiteness of Christ
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When images of a white preacher and actor going around Kenya playing Jesus turned up on social media in July 2019, people were rightly stunned by the white supremacist undertone of the images. They suggested that Africans were prone to seeing Jesus as white, promoting the white saviour narrative in the process. While it is true that the idea of a white Jesus has been prevalent in African Christianity even without a white actor, and many African Christians and churches still entertain images of Jesus as white because of the missionary legacy, many others have actively promoted a vision of Jesus as brown or black both in art an in ideology.

Images of a brown or black Jesus is as old as Christianity in Africa, especially finding a prominent place in Ethiopian Orthodox Church, which has been in existence for over sixteen hundred years. Eyob Derillo, a librarian at the British Library, recently brought up a steady diet of these images on Twitter. The image of Jesus as black has also been popularised through the artistic project known as Vie de Jesus Mafa (Life of Jesus Mafa) that was conducted in Cameroon.

The most radical expression of Jesus as a black person was however put forth by a young Kongolese woman called Kimpa Vita, who lived in the late seventeenth and early eighteenth century. Through the missionary work of the Portuguese, Kimpa Vita, who was a nganga or medicine woman, became a Christian. She taught that Jesus and his apostles were black and were in fact born in São Salvador, which was the capital of the Kongo at the time. Not only was Jesus transposed from Palestine to São Salvador, Jerusalem, which is a holy site for Christians, was also transposed to São Salvador, so that São Salvador became a holy site. Kimpa Vita was accused of preaching heresy by Portuguese missionaries and burnt at the stake in 1706.

It was not until the 20th century that another movement similar to Vita’s emerged in the Kongo. This younger movement was led by Simon Kimbangu, a preacher who went about healing and raising the dead, portraying himself as an emissary of Jesus. His followers sometimes see him as the Holy Spirit who was to come after Jesus, as prophesied in John 14:16. Just as Kimpa Vita saw São Salvador as the new Jerusalem, Kimbangu’s village of Nkamba became, and still is known as, the new Jerusalem. His followers still flock there for pilgrimage. Kimbangu was accused of threatening Belgian colonial rule and thrown in jail, where he died. Some have complained that Kimbangu seems to have eclipsed Jesus in the imagination of his followers for he is said to have been resurrected from the dead, like Jesus.

Kimbangu’s status among his followers is however similar to that of some of the leaders of what has been described as African Independent Churches or African Initiated Churches (AICs). These churches include the Zionist churches of Southern Africa, among which is the amaNazaretha of Isaiah Shembe. Shembe’s followers see him as a divine figure, similar to Jesus, and rather than going to Jerusalem for pilgrimage, his followers go to the holy city of Ekuphakameni in South Africa. The Cameroonian theologian, Fabien Eboussi Boulaga, in his Christianity Without Fetish, see leaders like Kimbangu and Shembe as doing for their people in our own time what Jesus did for his people in their own time—providing means of healing and deliverance in contexts of grinding oppression. Thus, rather than replacing Jesus, as they are often accused of doing, they are making Jesus relevant to their people. For many Christians in Africa, therefore, Jesus is already brown or black. Other Christians still need to catch up with this development if we are to avoid painful spectacles like the one that took place Kenya.

This post is from a partnership between Africa Is a Country and The Elephant. We will be publishing a series of posts from their site once a week.

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In Magufuli’s Shadow: The Stark Choices Facing Tanzania’s New President

One immediate concern is what steps Hassan will take on the pandemic, and whether she will change direction.

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In Magufuli’s Shadow: The Stark Choices Facing Tanzania’s New President
Photo: Flickr/Gospel Kitaa
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The sudden death of Tanzania’s President John Pombe Magufuli has thrown the East African nation into a period of political uncertainty.

Vice-president, Samia Suluhu Hassan, has been sworn in as his successor, making her Tanzania’s first woman president.

The transition is all the more challenging given the major rupture – both political and economic – caused by Magufuli’s presidency. Magufuli, who won a second term in October 2020, dramatically centralised power and pursued an interventionist economic policy agenda. He courted controversy on a number of fronts, most recently, by claiming that Tanzania – contrary to mounting evidence – was Covid-free.

Hassan has called for unity and counselled that now is not the time to look at what has passed but rather to look at what is to come.

Despite the 61-year-old leader’s forward-looking stance, questions remain about how Magufuli’s legacy will shape her time in office.

The authoritarian turn

Magufuli oversaw the marginalisation of opposition parties and a decline in civil liberties. His first term was defined by heightened intimidation and violence against opposition leaders, including disappearances and physical attacks.

Thanks to five years of repression, the October 2020 general elections saw the opposition all but wiped out of elected office. The ruling Chama Cha Mapinduzi now controls all local government councils. It also holds 97% of directly elected legislative seats, up from 73% in 2015.

In addition, media freedom and civil liberties were also restricted. A law passed in 2018 imposed jail terms for questioning the accuracy of official statistics.

But Magufuli’s authoritarian tendencies were not unprecedented in Tanzania. For instance, the rule of his predecessor Jakaya Kikwete was also marred by human rights abuses as well civil society and media repression. Kikwete also cancelled Zanzibar’s 2015 election due to a likely opposition victory.

It remains to be seen whether Hassan will adopt a more liberal approach, loosening restrictions on opposition parties, the media and civil society. Even if she does, the damage will take time to repair. Opposition parties, for instance, may well struggle to regain their strength. Among other setbacks, they have lost almost all local elected representatives – a core element of their organisational infrastructure built up painstakingly over decades.

Centralising power in the party

Another key pillar to Magufuli’s legacy is the centralisation of power within the Chama Cha Mapinduzi.

In the early years under founding president Julius Nyerere, Tanzania’s ruling party was dominated by the president and a hierarchy of appointed state and party officials. But, following economic liberalisation in the 1980s and Nyerere’s retirement from politics, the party became steeped in factional rivalries. These were spurred by new political alliances and an emerging private sector business elite.

This factionalism reached its height under Kikwete amid accusations of widespread corruption. Magufuli’s nomination as party presidential candidate only occurred because the rivalry among these factions left him as the unexpected compromise candidate.

Once in office, though, Magufuli quickly signalled he would be nobody’s puppet. He used his position as ruling party chairman to create a “new” Chama Cha Mapinduzi. This involved breaking with party heavyweights, including Kikwete, suppressing factional organising, and consolidating his own support base.

Magufuli’s new base was a cohort of freshly appointed party officials as well as civil servants and cabinet ministers. His loyalists likened these changes to a revival of Nyerere’s Chama Cha Mapinduzi. But, in our view, the comparison is misleading.

Like Magufuli before her, Hassan will be taking office – and party leadership – without her own political base. She will also have to contend with revived factional manoeuvring as sidelined groups try to regain an upper hand.

Hassan could align with a loyal Magufuli faction, which includes influential figures within the party. But, early indications suggest she intends to follow the advice of “party elders”, notably Kikwete. The former president reportedly attended the party’s most recent central committee meeting on Hassan’s invitation.

Aligning herself with Kikwete will likely lead to the reemergence of the internal factional rivalries that characterised the former president’s tenure.

Implications for economic policy

If president Hassan does continue to take a political steer from Kikwete, one likely outcome is that there will be a change in economic policy. In particular, a return to growth that’s led by a more business-friendly approach to the private sector.

Calls are already being made for such a course of action..

The danger for Hassan, however, is that under Kikwete this model was associated with high levels of corruption and unproductive rent-seeking.

A careful reassessment of the Magufuli era is needed to guide future policymaking.

Magufuli used his control over the ruling party to pursue an ambitious policy agenda. This was also linked to his political project of centralising power.

Although this trend actually began under Kikwete, Magufuli accelelrated a move towards more state-led investment. Under his leadership, both state-owned and, increasingly, military-owned enterprises were offered strategic contracts.

This ambitious programme initially won him praise. But over time, his authoritarian decision-making, mismanagement, and lack of transparency prompted a more critical response.

Many state enterprises remained cash-starved, relied on government financial support, and registered losses.

When the government’s controller and auditor general called for more scrutiny of public finances, his budget was slashed. And he was ultimately forced to retire and replaced by a Magufuli loyalist.

Alongside state investment, the president also sought to discipline private sector actors. Some observers suggest that this led to more productive investment, notably by domestic investors. But others point to renewed crony capitalist ties.

Magufuli’s most high profile corporate battle was against Canadian-owned Barrick Gold and its former subsidiary, Acacia Mining. From the two, he demanded USD$190 billion in tax arrears and a renegotiation of operating terms.

Many saw this resource-nationalist approach as an inspiration and a model for African countries seeking to take greater control of their mineral wealth. But in the end – partly due to externally imposed legal and economic constraints – Magufuli walked back on some of his demands. Instead he opted for cooperation rather than confrontation.

He negotiated a joint venture in which Barrick took a majority stake of 84% and Tanzania the remaining 16%. Key elements of the nationalistic mining legislation passed in 2017 were also reversed.

On the plus side gold overtook tourism as Tanzania’s biggest foreign-exchange earner. In addition, some small-scale miners saw their livelihoods improve. Results were more mixed elsewhere, especially for Tanzanite miners in the country’s north.

Ultimately, Magufuli leaves behind a mixed economic legacy. It combines misdirected authoritarian decision-making with positive efforts to pursue an active industrial policy. Reining in unproductive domestic investors and renegotiating adverse contracts with foreign investors were part of this agenda.

There is a risk, given this complex mix, that Tanzania’s policymakers may learn the wrong lessons from his presidency, leading back to the flawed model existing before.

Significantly, neither Magufuli nor his predecessors managed to achieve more inclusive growth. For this reason poverty levels have remained stubbornly high.

The pandemic and beyond

One immediate concern is what steps Hassan will take on the pandemic, and whether she will change direction.

Whatever she does, the health emergency and associated economic crisis will likely define her presidency. It could indeed define the economic trajectory of the African region in years to come.

Both Kikwete and Magufuli ruled through an economic boom period. Commodity prices were high and access to international finance was fairly easy. This gave them latitude to choose between various development approaches.

If Tanzania reverts to the status quo of the Kikwete years, the risk is a reemergence of rent-seeking but without the same highly favourable economic growth conditions. Indeed, as external conditions worsen, Hassan may find her options far more limited.The Conversation

This article is republished from The Conversation under a Creative Commons license. Read the original article.

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