The BBI promise and Kenya’s false dawns

ODM leader Raila Odinga and other leaders at the BBI rally in Kitui stadium, Kitui County, on February 1, 2020. [Dennis Kavisu]

“Those who cannot remember the past,” warned writer and philosopher George Santayana, “are condemned to repeat it.”

Taking cognisance of the wild frenzy and drama BBI mobilisation rallies have caused, and all that has happened in the last couple of weeks, this column takes a hard look at history this week in the hope that it will offer vital lessons to its readers.

Those in the know say once the Opposition realised how hard it would be to dislodge former President Daniel arap Moi and Kanu from power, they figured out a plan B – constitutional change.

Moi had proven a hard nut to crack and as the Young Turks greyed, a plan B had to be found. Soon, Section 2A was repealed, but the reintroduction of multi-party politics and presidential term limits did not produce the desired results. For Raila Odinga, the engine had to be fixed even while running, hence the 1997 Kanu/NDP merger.

Yet no sooner had the Rainbow Alliance got into office in 2003 than the quest for a new constitution became another political campaign idea. First mistake; the motivation for a new constitution was always about grabbing power from Mr Moi and Kanu.

The Yash Pal Ghai-led Constitution of Kenya Review Commission sittings at Bomas of Kenya degenerated into a circus pitting the President Mwai Kibaki-led NAK against Mr Odinga’s LDP.

The Kibaki wing had tasted power and they liked it. Odinga’s side was frowning because they had seemingly been sidelined from the high table. The centre could not hold.

The LDP side insisted that a new constitution was all that was needed to promote inclusivity, reduce inequality and generally make life better for all.

And as the chasm between the Rainbow coalition partners grew wider, the differences morphed into a contest between status quo and progressive ideology. That culminated in the resounding defeat of the government (Mr Kibaki’s side) in the 2005 referendum, thus setting the stage for the bruising 2007 General Election and the disputed presidential election results.

The 2007-08 post-election violence set the stage for the 2010 referendum. Seven out of 10 Kenyans voted to do away with the old. The long, windy road to a new constitution ended abruptly. But as we have noted with the renewed clamour, things aren’t perfect yet.

What are we learning here: changing a constitution like we did in 2010 will not of itself cure the country’s challenges.

Did Kenyans fall for the politics? Yes.

Since 2002, we haven’t seen the power of the people over the politicians; we have repeatedly witnessed the power of the politicians over the people.

By good measure, the liberation struggle has mutated into a struggle by politicians for politicians.

Today’s events vindicate Moi who once wondered if his exit would translate into a flight to political nirvana. He was right because, like the children of Israel, Kenyans have been wandering in the desert since 2002 when politicians promised them heaven on earth.

We haven’t seen any ideological shift in our politics. Since 2002, the overriding theme every electoral cycle has been ‘it is our time to eat’. Time and again, politicians have ganged up to defeat a certain political grouping not because of ideological differences but because the other group is viewed as a threat to the status quo.

The ring leader of a political gang – for that is what our parties are – will rally his supporters to join the XYZ gang ostensibly to dislodge ABC from the feeding trough or to keep him there. No wonder our politics is always a survival-of-the-fittest contest.

There is no care for the casualties. The end justifies the means. After all, it is our turn to eat. Do the people deserve the leaders they elect? I don’t think so.

So to whom should Kenyans direct their anger? They are right to feel angry that they were cheated because that group – Narc – failed to utilise the goodwill at the time to fix some of the vexing challenges the country still faces – corruption, nepotism, food insecurity, bad governance, poor health and infrastructure, and to a large extent uproot a culture of political gangsterism.

But the sooner the masses, like those in ancient Rome, realise that all the politicians can offer is bread and circus, the better. For that will truly be the new dawn they have been promised all along.

They ought to be concerned, for example, about whose tune the reggae is playing, and not whether anyone can stop reggae.

 

Mr Kipkemboi is The Standard’s associate editor for partnerships and projects. [email protected]