Enduring clash of ideologies in Kenyan elections

I suggest that we run to our “tribal” enclaves at election time to protect two visions that are clearly etched in the minds of many Kenyans and have existed since our independence.

With every election, the outlines and contours of these visions become more vivid. Eventually, the visions themselves will be stated in our discourse.

There will no longer be any need for voters to take refuge in ethnic enclaves and politicians will not need to appeal to “tribal” loyalties. Instead, both voters and politicians will go straight to the issues.

But what are the visions we seek to protect when we run to our ethnic enclaves?

The first vision: This is shared by Kenyans who see capitalism or private enterprise as the key to realising the dreams of the average Kenyan.

Those who subscribe to this vision see the right to engage in private enterprise and self-reliance as central to Kenya’s creed, uhuru. This wing of politicians and ordinary Kenyans frowns upon reliance on the Government or waiting for the services of the public sector.

Giving people things without demanding work or effort in exchange is like robbing the recipients of the very drive that creates progress and development.

Statements such as “People do not cherish anything free” or “nothing is really free because somebody, somewhere ultimately pays” feature in casual conversations among holders of this vision.

To this group, certain rules must be accepted so as to release the vitality of Kenyans. Among these is the willing-seller-willing-buyer rule, as well as the rule with probably the farthest-reaching consequences: the right of all Kenyans to own property and invest anywhere in Kenya without regard to ancestral right, guided only by market forces.

These rules have far-reaching implications because they threaten to break the link between territory-language-ethnicity, thereby erasing “tribe” as a meaningful analytical category.

Under these rules, a Kenyan from Mandera is invited to invest in Kisii; a business person from Vihiga is welcome to set his or her roots in Malindi or Narok with the assurance that such an activity is both sanctioned and encouraged by the State. As people set roots outside their ancestral parts of the country, it will take perhaps two generations to weaken the link between territory, ethnicity, and language.

For those who subscribe to this vision of a capitalism-driven country, the resulting ethnically homogenised society is welcome. It is the brave new Kenya.

For others, it is a frightening society with no norms. In general, there is a close correlation between support for this vision and segments of the population or parts of the country where capitalism or private enterprise has taken root. Conversely, the vision is weak where the roots of capitalism are tenuous.

The Kibaki years have been the most unapologetic expression of this vision. Securing both individual well being and sovereignty through hard work and robust fiscal policies that enable the country to provide access to education and health services to all, entrenching local governance through measures such as Community Development Fund, establishing industrial parks throughout Kenya and all other hopes and aspirations captured in Vision 2030, or working round the clock to raise productivity, are all based on accepting the legitimacy of capitalism, a market system, and pragmatism as the path to development.

In external relations and trade, this vision supports inviting venture capital confident that Kenya can manage the risks, minimising entanglements in issues that are of no direct concern to Kenya and seeking out new development partners whose inputs are not only financially less expensive, but come with minimal social and political agendas attached.

This is our first vision which has existed since our founders first outlined the Kenya they wanted.

The second vision: It causes us to take cover in our ethnic enclaves and is predicated on two concerns that have challenged Kenya’s nationalism since it first emerged. First is the concern that a market-based economy or capitalism legitimises colonial era inequities, and, unlike socialism, will trap most Kenyans in perpetual poverty; Second, the concern that one or a few ethnic groups will monopolise access to and use of resources.

The first fear, the tension between capitalism and socialism, was seemingly modulated in the landmark Sessional Paper No. 10 of 1965 but actually lingered on in the form of acrimonious exchanges among Jomo Kenyatta, Jaramogi Oginga Odinga and Bildad Kaggia culminating in a parting of ways in or around 1969 when a market-based economy was imposed.

Socialism was relegated to the sidelines from where it has grumbled steadily over the years as an undertone in the 20-year epic of the Constitutional Reform movement, the Referendum, and Devolution; as a driving force of the antecedents of the Orange Democratic Movement; as a vehicle for the grievances that were vented in the 2007-2008 post-election violence; as the popular platform for intellectual, academic and political commentary.

The second fear has taken on different identities over the years — KADU, majimboism, regionalism, parts of constitutional reform or devolution – but the theme that uhuru, Kenya’s national creed, is faulty because it does not protect equal access to resources for all, has been constant.

The many political parties and formations that have appeared over the last 50 years and ultimately led to the Orange Democratic Movement have been the faithful platform for the second vision.

The competition between these two visions is the key to much of Kenya’s post-independence political economy including our periodic elections. In time, perhaps our analysts will go beyond pointing out, for instance, that after the most recent election the country is divided “mostly along ethnic lines” and they will interrogate the average voter a little more closely.

The average Kenyan voter is quite sophisticated and can go beyond “tribal” analysis to state reasons that are unrelated to ethnic solidarity for voting for or against particular candidates or coalitions.

Ethnicity does not wholly explain our voting patterns. More to the point: it camouflages the real reasons why Kenyans vote the way they do.

Dr Wachira is a former World Bank economist and a consultant based in Washington.