From resistance to establishment: Has ODM lost its moral compass?

ODM politicians led by Party Leader Oburu Oginga attend a Women Economic Empowerment Programme at Boya School Grounds in Nyando Constituency. [Rodgers Otiso, Standard] 

Politics is full of ironies, but perhaps none is more striking than watching yesterday’s victims of State repression become today’s defenders, or at least silent bystanders, when similar accusations are directed at those in power.

For decades, the Orange Democratic Movement occupied a unique place in Kenya’s democratic journey. It was more than a political party. It became a symbol of resistance against authoritarianism, electoral injustice, and abuse of power. Its rallies drew millions because Kenyans believed ODM represented constitutionalism, civil liberties, and accountable government.

Its leaders reminded the nation that democracy is measured not by how governments treat supporters, but by how they treat critics. That moral authority was earned through sacrifice.

Many ODM leaders endured arrests, police harassment, teargas, and intimidation. They defended peaceful assembly, expression, and constitutional accountability. Thousands of supporters also paid a price. Some lost their lives. Others suffered injuries, detention, or hardship because they believed Kenya deserved a democratic future.

That history cannot be erased. Because of it, recent developments have left many Kenyans asking deeply uncomfortable questions. Since entering the broad-based arrangement with President William Ruto’s administration, ODM leaders have appeared alongside the President. What began as cooperation for national stability now looks like political partnership.

Government projects are jointly launched. Rallies are jointly addressed. Messages sound coordinated. Donations are distributed. Development tours resemble early re-election campaigns.

None of this is unconstitutional. Coalitions, cooperation, and dialogue are legitimate features of democracy. Governments sometimes need broad support to promote stability or pass reforms. The question is not whether parties should cooperate. It is what becomes of the principles that justified cooperation.

When the arrangement was announced, Kenyans were told it would be anchored on reform rather than convenience. Discussion centred on institutional reforms, economic recovery, national cohesion, and agreed priorities. Many supporters understood this to mean cooperation would improve governance while preserving each party’s independent voice.

Increasingly, attention has shifted from reform to politics. The more visible the partnership becomes, the less visible the reform agenda appears. Kenya also continues to witness debate over allegations of abductions, excessive force against demonstrators, restrictions on peaceful protests, and shrinking civic space. Rights groups, religious leaders, lawyers, and civil society groups have called for transparent investigations where credible allegations arise.

Whether allegations are proved or disproved through lawful investigations is a matter for independent institutions. What cannot be ignored is the expectation that leaders who built careers defending civil liberties would be among the loudest voices demanding accountability whenever such concerns emerge.

Silence carries consequences. When those who once condemned abuse become hesitant because they now share political space with executive authority, citizens ask whether principles have become negotiable.

History teaches an uncomfortable lesson.

Opposition movements derive legitimacy not merely from opposing governments, but from defending enduring constitutional values. Once those values become secondary to political access, appointments, or alliances, public trust erodes. This challenge is not unique to ODM. It has confronted liberation and opposition movements across Africa. Parties born in resistance often struggle after gaining proximity to power. The urgency of defending democratic principles slowly gives way to incentives of governing, or participating in government.

The danger is not cooperation itself. The danger is forgetting why citizens entrusted a movement with their hopes. Political alliances are temporary. Constitutional principles are permanent. Governments change. Friendships evolve. Cabinets are reshuffled. Coalitions are formed and dissolved. But freedoms guaranteed by the Constitution remain the inheritance of every Kenyan, regardless of which party occupies State House.

Civil liberties cannot depend on political convenience. If arbitrary arrests were wrong yesterday, they remain wrong today. If excessive force against peaceful demonstrators deserved condemnation under previous administrations, it deserves the same standard now.

If constitutional accountability mattered in opposition, it must matter equally in proximity to power. The Constitution does not change according to political alignments. Neither should constitutional conviction.

ODM therefore faces a defining moment. It can reassure Kenyans that cooperation with government does not require abandoning independent oversight, principled criticism, and defence of constitutional freedoms. Or it can allow the perception to deepen that political access has displaced principle.

Ultimately, parties are remembered less for offices they occupied than for values they defended. Kenyans do not expect perfection. They expect consistency. A party built on resisting abuse cannot appear indifferent when similar concerns arise under an administration with which it now enjoys partnership.

History is unforgiving toward those who abandon ideals that brought them to prominence. Power is temporary. Moral authority is difficult to regain once surrendered. For ODM, the defining question is whether, in securing a place within the country’s governing architecture, it has preserved the principles that once inspired millions to believe that another, more democratic Republic was possible.

-The writer is an advocate