Audio By Vocalize
The announcement that Bayern Munich and Ajax will play a football match in Kenya in January 2027 ought to be an exciting prospect for football enthusiasts. Bringing two internationally recognised football clubs to the country is undoubtedly a major sporting occasion, and Kenyans have nothing to be ashamed of for wanting to enjoy the spectacle. However, the timing of this announcement should make the ordinary Kenyan wonder why there is always money for entertainment, even when the most fundamental needs of the population remain unmet. At a time when Kenya is grappling with severe drought, femicide, perennial university strikes that are kicked forward through incomplete bargaining agreements, concerns about Ebola and an increasingly strained healthcare system, to name just a few challenges, the announcement of the football spectacle invites us to examine the historical relationship between entertainment, political power and the management of public discontent.
In this moment, it should be clear to us that there is an important distinction between enjoying entertainment and being encouraged to mistake entertainment for development. Sport, music and popular culture are valuable aspects of human life. They create community, offer opportunities for expression and provide moments of relief from the difficulties of everyday existence. Indeed, for many people, these spaces are also sites of political resistance and cultural expression, as we can bear witness to whenever a play or film critical of a regime is banned by it. The problem in entertainment emerges when governments elevate spectacle above substance, investing political capital in keeping populations entertained while failing to address the material conditions that make their lives increasingly difficult. Entertainment becomes particularly useful to those in power when it provides an alternative conversation to the one that ought to be taking place about employment, healthcare, food security, housing, education and the distribution of public resources.
This is hardly a new political strategy. The Roman poet Juvenal used the expression panem et circenses, translated as “bread and circuses”, to describe how political authorities maintained public approval by providing food and entertainment rather than addressing the deeper questions of civic and political participation and accountability. The Roman population was offered subsidised grain and spectacular public entertainment, including gladiatorial contests and chariot races. These spectacles served as part of a political arrangement in which the population's attention could be directed towards public amusement while the concentration of power and the unequal distribution of resources remained largely undisturbed.
With the passage of time, modern governments have developed more sophisticated ways of delivering their circuses. Football matches, international tournaments, concerts, celebrity culture and televised sporting events have become part of the repertoire through which political leaders cultivate popularity, manufacture national pride and project an image of progress. As this happens, the public is made passive and content, sitting in front of their screens, now portable, and staying far away from the streets. The American poet Gil Scott-Heron made it clear to us that the revolution will not be televised, calling on us to leave the entertainment behind and focus on the work of nation-building that we are being distracted from. The position now is even worse, as we no longer have to sit in our homes glued to entertainment on our screens.
The same political logic extends beyond sport. During the Cold War, entertainment became an important instrument of American foreign policy. The United States government recognised that its international reputation was shaped not only by its military and economic power, but also by its cultural influence. Jazz music, in particular, was mobilised as an instrument of cultural diplomacy. Through the State Department's jazz ambassador programme, American musicians including Louis Armstrong, Dizzy Gillespie and Duke Ellington travelled across Africa, Asia and the Middle East, performing before international audiences and presenting an image of American cultural sophistication, creativity and freedom. There was a particular irony in this strategy. Jazz had emerged from the experiences and cultural innovations of Black Americans, whose communities continued to experience profound racial discrimination and segregation. Yet the United States presented the music as evidence of its democratic openness and cultural freedom, even as the civil rights movement exposed the contradiction between its international rhetoric and domestic realities. The performances were intended to demonstrate the superiority of American cultural values over Soviet communism, making music an instrument of geopolitical persuasion. The musicians themselves were not necessarily enthusiastic participants in this political project, and some used their international platforms to challenge American racism. Nevertheless, their music was incorporated into a wider strategy of projecting American power and influence.
The history is important because it demonstrates that sporting infrastructure can serve more than one purpose. A stadium can be a valuable public facility and an important investment in national sport, but it can also become a monument to the political ambitions of the government that builds it. The question is not whether Kenya should have stadiums or host international sporting events. It is whether such investments are being made within a broader development agenda that also prioritises the everyday needs of the population. Entertainment is particularly effective in making people look the other way because it produces emotional attachment. People may disagree with a government's economic policies or political conduct while simultaneously feeling pride in the cultural and sporting achievements that are presented as national accomplishments. In the process, much leeway is lost in the movement towards liberation, as many are sidelined by the celebration of the next great feat of entertainment.
With this understanding in mind, the answer to the question of entertainment as spectacle cannot simply be that sport and entertainment are luxuries that a struggling population should abandon. People living through economic hardship are entitled to joy, recreation and cultural participation and indeed football, more than any other sport, is the most egalitarian sport; a true sport for the masses. The nation should not have to choose between enjoying a football match and demanding access to healthcare. Rather, the responsibility lies with governments to ensure that entertainment does not become a substitute for their obligations to the people. A new stadium and a European football match are not evidence of development if the communities surrounding these places and events cannot reliably access clean water, affordable healthcare or decent livelihoods.