Towards an assessment of the legacy of Kenya’s Uhuru Kenyatta: Pan-Africanist or subtle Western lackey?

Abstract

Uhuru Kenyatta, Kenya’s fourth president, ascended to power in 2013 amid a barrage of threats from Western diplomats and an acrimonious relationship with the Western world because of the International Criminal Court (ICC) charges he faced. Yet, by the time his first term was coming to an end, his relationship with the West had undergone a dramatic facelift, and he had metamorphosed into one of the continent’s foremost leaders. Inspired by this spectacular change of fortune, this paper assesses his legacy. Framed around an “Pan-African—Western lackey” analytical lens informed by Ngugi wa Thiong’o’s dialectical representation of Africa’s political elite class, it poses the following two broad questions: Can Kenyatta be considered a pan-Africanist, or was he more of a subtle Western lackey? With regard to internal and external affairs, what were his notable achievements? Based on Michel Foucault’s “archaeology of power” concept, the paper draws on various relevant sources, including scholarly works, the Constitution of Kenya 2010, the now-defunct Building Bridges Initiative (BBI) Report of 2019, Kenya’s Budget Statements (2013–2022), and historical data obtained from Human Rights Watch annual reports (2011–2020); it finds partly that Kenyatta inspired a negative form of pan-Africanism that features impunity, packaged as a quest to safeguard national sovereignty. Also, some decisions his administration made on multilateral trade affairs make him susceptible to accusations of being a subtle Western lackey. Among the hallmark achievements of his tenure, of significance to ordinary citizens, include the use of technology to make public services significantly more accessible and the making of dialysis treatment more accessible and extremely affordable. Whereas his overall legacy continues to unfold given his involvement in peacekeeping efforts in his retirement, the ambivalence that considerably characterises his persona at present makes him difficult to firmly place on either side of the “Pan-African—Western lackey” analytical spectrum.

Keywords:

• Uhuru Kenyatta
• international criminal court
• big 4 agenda
• pan-Africanism
• legacy
• Ngugi wa Thiong’o
• Kenya

1. Introduction

Uhuru Kenyatta, Kenya’s fourth president, will go down in history as a highly interesting and controversial figure. His ascendancy to power in 2013 was notable for three distinct reasons: First, as the scion of Kenya’s founding father, he had achieved a rare father–son feat, seldom seen in competitive politics anywhere. Second, he would cement the Kikuyu community’s dominance in the country’s political affairs, for his rise to power meant that out of four heads of state the country (comprising over 40 ethnic groups) had so far produced, three would be from one ethnic group. Given the country’s history of ethnic bigotry (see Omulo, 2018; Omulo & Williams, 2018), and the fact that there “is a strong tendency for African leaders to divert public resources towards their own communities” (Soumahoro, 2015, p. 1238), this was a significant occurrence. And third, and perhaps more important, he would face great criticism and opposition as he became the first ICC indictee to clinch power. Indeed, Western powers appeared to eschew him in the lead-up to the country’s general election in 2013 and at the beginning of his tenure. Several diplomats voiced significant disapproving comments concerning Kenyatta. With reference to a potential Jubilee Alliance (the Uhuru–Ruto alliance) election victory, for instance, the then British High Commissioner to Kenya, Christian Turner, was quoted as saying:

Whether or not the position would be for a win, we will cross that bridge when we get there. It is well known the position of my government and others is that we don’t get in contact with the ICC indictees unless it is essential. But it is not a policy specific to Kenya but it is a global policy and we have discussed it here with the elders. (Anami, 2013, para. 3)

And his American counterpart, Johnny Carson—the then US Assistant Secretary of State for African Affairs—reiterated this threat-convoyed Western stance by stating that “choices have consequences” as he reminded Kenyans in a tele-conference that they “live[d] in [an] inter-connected world” in which “people should be thoughtful about the impact of their choices on the nation and the world” (Mathenge & Musau, 2013).

Conspicuously, by the time his first term was coming to an end, his relationship with the West had undergone a dramatic facelift; an international observer mission, led by former US Secretary of State John Kerry, for instance, gave a clean bill of health to the 8 August 2017 Kenyan general election, in which Kenyatta was announced winner despite the process being marred by numerous irregularities and illegalities. Yet the refurbishment of Kenyatta’s image had begun long before Kerry’s diplomatic faux pas. Following the collapse of his case at the ICC, the Kenyan president increasingly gained prominence as a global figure as epitomised by the following events: Barack Obama—the 44th US President, whose father was Kenyan/Luo—after snubbing Uhuru for a protracted time period, during which the latter struggled to disentangle himself from the ICC cases he faced, paid a visit to his father’s homeland in July 2015 to attend a global entrepreneurial summit and “hold talks on trade and investment, and also security and counter-terrorism” (British Broadcasting Corporation [BBC], 2015, para. 10). He was followed in quick pursuit by Pope Francis, who visited the country in November 2015 “to discuss issues close to his heart in Kenya … including poverty, the environment and the need for interfaith dialogue” and “to challenge the countr[y’s] political leaders on corruption” (The Guardian, 2015, paras. 12 and 13). In May 2016, Israeli PM, Benjamin Netanyahu, visited Nairobi where he stated that “he has set breaking the automatic majority against Israel in international forums as a strategic goal for the country, and that upgrading Israel’s position in the African Union will go a long way toward achieving that goal” (Keinon, 2016, para. 7). And Uhuru Kenyatta promised him that “Kenya w[ould] work to restore Israel’s observer status at the African Union because Israel is a critical partner in the battle against terrorism, the most serious challenge facing the world today” (Ibid., para. 1). The Indian Premier, Narendra Modi, landed at Jomo Kenyatta International Airport (JKIA) in July 2016 in a visit seen by many as “seek[ing] to boost trade relations, health deals and cultural connections” (Mutambo, 2016, para. 3). In what was the first visit by a Japanese Premier in the last 15 years, Shinzo Abe travelled to Kenya to participate in the sixth summit of the Tokyo International Conference on African Development (TICAD) held in Nairobi in August 2016: during this TICAD summit, “Japanese and African leaders [wer]e expected to aim to adopt the Nairobi Declaration, which would focus on how to enhance areas such as education in the continent to tackle the threat of terrorism” (The Mainichi, 2016). The metamorphosis of Uhuru Kenyatta into one of the continent’s foremost leaders—even a reference point on African issues—was already complete as he vied for a second term of office in 2017.

Inspired partly by this backdrop, of what was undoubtedly a spectacular change of fortune, this paper assesses the legacy of Kenya’s fourth president. It poses the following two broad questions: With regard to both internal and external affairs, what were Kenyatta’s notable achievements? Can he be considered a pan-Africanist, or was he more of a subtle Western lackey? Whereas ideas and norms have been crucial in determining the trajectory of African foreign policies or international relations, there are only but “a few self-described constructivist works on African foreign policy” (Quinn, 2019, p. 12). Constructivism recognises that “[a]ctors (usually powerful ones, like leaders and influential citizens) continually shape—and sometimes reshape—the very nature of international relations through their actions and interactions” (Theys, 2017, p. 36). Accordingly, it is hoped that the foreign policy component of this study, which focuses on and analyses Uhuru Kenyatta through a pan-Africanist lens, contributes towards addressing this gap and breaking new ground in this research domain. Indeed, it has been argued that “uniting Pan-Africanism with International Relations can lead to a new paradigm for the field” (Murithi, 2014, as cited in Quinn, 2019, p. 12).

The paper proceeds as follows: first, it reviews contemporary literature on African leadership (with the view to crafting a conceptual framework to guide the study), and on Kenyatta himself; second, it outlines the objectives of the study; third, it presents the research assumptions; fourth, it positions pan-Africanism within the context of Ngugi wa Thiong’o’s perceptions of Africa’s political elite class (the lens through which it assesses Kenyatta and draws its conclusions); fifth, it presents the conceptual framework; and sixth, it presents the findings (on the internal and external aspects of Kenyatta’s legacy) before drawing its conclusions.

2. Literature review

2.1. On leadership in Africa

African leadership has been discussed in various forms in contemporary literature: it is either about individuals or nation-states; the context may be local, national, or global; interactions feature players from within the continent’s boundaries as well as entities from other continents; and its content is either inspirational or worrisome. Generally, the literature on leadership in the continent coalesces around the following five broad issues: (1) the nature and deficiency of African politics and leadership; (2) optimism and possible solutions to deficient leadership; (3) coups; (4) foreign powers in Africa; and (5) South Africa as a leader on the continent. Discussions around the aforementioned issues are not only crucial to understanding the African political and leadership milieu and praxis but also provide insights useful for purposes of assessing a legacy. They are briefly presented here, for they constitute part of the lens through which this paper prosecutes its analysis on the legacy of Uhuru Kenyatta.

The nature of African politics and governance, with strong emphasis on deficiencies, has been the subject of various scholarly contributions on leadership in the continent (Agulanna, 2006; Alter et al., 2016; Amusan et al., 2017; Arriola, 2009; Asante et al., 2021; Moghalu, 2017; Muna et al., 2014; Ndalamba, 2019; Soumahoro, 2015). Agulanna (2006) has lamented the situation in Nigeria, which is characterised by religious and ethnic conflicts, corruption, political assassinations, the rigging of elections, and opaque electoral processes, among other ills, and contends that Africa requires a new breed of leaders with a different mind-set from the founding fathers if it is to make meaningful progress. While acknowledging that Africa has made some advancements in its quest to democratise, Amusan et al. (2017) hold that the process is far from complete and faces considerable drawbacks as exemplified by the violence that follows elections that fail to meet satisfactory standards. They argue that the existence of “Two Publics” in Africa (the primordial and the civic), as espoused by Peter Ekeh, stands in the way of more meaningful democratization. In the primordial public, “primordial groupings, ties and sentiment hold sway, inform and influence individuals” public behaviour and attitude; the civic public, on the other hand, is “based on civil structures: the military, civil services, the police and other apparatchik of the post-colonial state” (Amusan et al., 2017, pp. 47–48). Such a society—essentially, a political sphere composed of two sets of incompatible value systems—yields conflicted actors who end up frustrating the advancement of democracy (Ibid., pp. 58–64).

As is evident in the work of Alter et al. (2016), African governments are known to violate constitutionally enshrined human rights and principles that govern their relations with other countries. Upon being challenged, they often either victimise citizens seeking international redress or act in ways that sabotage the activities of international arbiters seeking to adjudicate disputes arising from their shortcomings. The case of Gambia and the Court of the Economic Community of West Africa (ECOWAS) exemplifies this behaviour. Upon the sub-regional court’s ruling in favour of journalists associated with the Gambian opposition, on torture allegations brought before it, Gambia’s politicians took measures geared towards stopping future cases of that nature being heard at the court. Similarly, Kenya does not take kindly to subjecting itself to foreign jurisdictions. It attempted to abolish the East African Court of Justice (EACJ) when the latter threw out a list of the country’s nominees to the East African Legislative Assembly (EALA) for contravening sections of the East African Treaty (EAC) Treaty. Although attempts to obtain justice beyond the confines of the nation-state, where the latter’s authorities are recalcitrant, are essential, critical thought must be accorded to the issues of neo-colonialism (where regional tribunals in Africa are set up primarily with funds sourced from Europe) and violation of national sovereignty (which may arise when internal disputes are subjected to the jurisdiction of international courts). In the case of Zimbabwe, where land ownership has been a hotly contested issue, the Southern African Development Community (SADC) Tribunal—established with technical assistance from Europe—issued verdicts in favour of white farmers in 2007 when the country’s authorities declared their intention to seise landholdings from the former (Alter et al., 2016). While the land question in Zimbabwe has often been politicised, expropriation without compensation may be viewed approvingly in some quarters given that racially skewed ownership of the most fertile land in favour of a white minority was instituted through colonialism. Even where it is agreeable that due process and the right to property ownership should be accorded to all without regard for race, it is rather bothersome that these should be enforced by entities with links to, or birthed by, the Western world.

Despite implementing numerous strategies aimed at socioeconomic transformation since the end of apartheid, South Africa’s citizens remain largely impoverished. The failure of programmes such as the Reconstruction and Development Programme (RDP) and the Growth, Employment and Redistribution (GEAR) strategy, among others, can be attributed to a lack of leadership ethos among the country’s leaders. This is as evidenced in the numerous scandals witnessed during the reign of President Jacob Zuma—particularly the Nkandla, Gupta family, and the South African Social Security Agency (SASSA) debacles (Ndalamba, 2019). According to Moghalu (2017), in spite of being endowed with plenty of aptitude, to a great extent, Africa is yet to meaningfully harness it to generate desired socioeconomic outcomes and compete favourably in an increasingly globalised world. Whereas civil society professionals and entrepreneurs have excelled, transformational leadership in the political arena in Africa is largely lacking for the following two reasons among others: first, African leaders have historically sought power not for the purposes of fulfilling a people-centred agenda but for self-aggrandizement. Accordingly, the development of strong institutions, crucial for successful leadership, has seldom been prioritised. Instead, mobilisation around ethnic and religious identities predominates political competition cementing the “Us versus Them” aspect of African politics. And loyalty supersedes merit and competence in government appointments. Second, thanks partly to politics centred on manipulation of identities, corruption is rampant in Africa. It is imprudent, therefore, to unquestioningly join the “Africa Rising” bandwagon (Moghalu, 2017). Muna et al. (2014) have examined intergenerational politics in Kenya and argue that besides ethnic identity, discourse around the passing of the torch from the older generation to the youth predominates Kenyan politics. Notably, the older generation’s hold on power and the country’s wealth is herculean. And instead of using their privileged financial status to nurture young people into leadership, old leaders have frustrated the emergence of their successors. Accordingly, a generational gap in leadership is in the offing, and the situation will worsen if the older generation remains obstinate. Nonetheless, they argue, the youth should be proactive in seeking power. When it occurs, division and handover of power between the two groups should be a gradual process involving careful negotiations. This would not only ensure that the youth partake of the wisdom and experience of their predecessors but also aid them in avoiding the latter’s erstwhile slipups (Muna et al., 2014).

Other scholarly works, while acknowledging the inadequacies that bedevil African leadership, nonetheless assume a more optimistic posture, either examining various exceptional figures, or laying a stronger emphasis on offering possible solutions to problems associated with leadership in the continent (Carbone & Pellegata, 2017; Gumede, 2017; Kgatle, 2018; Mayanja, 2013; Mwambazambi & Banza, 2014; Napier, 2007; Nyuykonge & Shulika, 2020). Seemingly irked by the overdependence of scholars on European standards of what constitutes good leadership and governance, Nyuykonge and Shulika (2020) have emphasised that not all is doom and gloom in Africa. Besides the usual few famed figures, particularly Mandela and Nyerere, they argue, there are other noteworthy African leaders, such as former Mozambican president Joaquim Chisano, whom they consider admirable for the following reasons: steering economic development in Mozambique; voluntarily vacating power before fully serving his constitutionally mandated term limit; and engaging in peacebuilding efforts in Uganda, South Sudan, the Democratic Republic of Congo, and Guinea-Bissau in the aftermath of his presidency. Africa, contends Napier (2007), is beginning to fully appreciate the importance of political pluralism and the significant role played by the opposition as the continent’s democracies mature. Among the challenges faced by opposition leaders, vis-à-vis their counterparts in government, is the relative lack of adequate finances, crucial for purposes of maintaining a support base in an often patrimonial setup. This resource shortfall calls for dependence on allure as an alternative mechanism for mobilisation. Nonetheless, there is more room for opposition politics to thrive, and this can partly be ensured through innovative constitutional means, such as devolution of power to lower levels of government, proportional representation of political parties in different parliamentary bodies, as well as finding viable alternatives to winner-take-all electoral arrangements. Carbone and Pellegata (2017) have found that competitive multiparty elections and leadership changes, whether elections are deemed to be fair or not, stimulate social welfare provision in Africa, especially in areas of education and health. Incumbents realise that they could lose power following competitive electoral processes; accordingly, to optimise their chances of remaining in office, they find it vital to enhance citizens’ access to public goods.

Possible diverse solutions to the leadership crisis in Africa have been fronted: using Uganda as a case study, Mayanja (2013) calls for Ubuntu ethics as the solution to “persistent human rights violation, bad governance, dysfunctional institutions, patronage, electoral fraud, manipulation of ethnic differences, corruption and personalisation of power” (p. 114). Fundamentally, this African philosophy “is rooted in humanness, respect for human dignity, love, relatedness, communion of beings, and promotion of the collective good” (Mayanja, 2013, p. 121). For successful inculcation of Ubuntu, a multi-stakeholder approach, involving the family as the basic societal unit, as well as educational institutions, would be crucial; the philosophy would have to be taught from an early age (Ibid.). It has also been argued that the church can nurture transformational leadership (which includes respect for human rights, recognition of human worth and dignity, conflict resolution, and socioeconomic development) through various ways such as the following: (1) formulating training programmes and material on topics like integrity and conflict management; (2) teaching elements of African history, with a special emphasis on African values and past mistakes; (3) teaching spiritual matters, such as honesty, respect, and empathy to those in positions of leadership; (4) psychological restoration; and (5) sponsoring initiatives geared towards decolonisation of congregants and leaders (Mwambazambi & Banza, 2014). Elsewhere, Kgatle (2018) recommends servant leadership as a solution to the corruption, power abuse, and lack of accountability exuded by political leaders in South Africa. Various principles epitomise servant leadership according to him: service, humility, stewardship, and leading by example. Authority resides in service, which, in this context, serves as evidence of jurisdiction over others. Servant leaders are impactful in the sense that they empower their adherents by making them self-reliant and qualified to also serve others if they so wish. Humility mainly manifests itself in selflessness, which involves prioritising organisational needs over those of the leader. Humble leaders have appreciation for others, see the value in them, encourage, and contribute towards their further growth. Stewardship, on the other hand, involves faithful and cost-effective management. And leading by example involves modelling behaviour that can be emulated by others. Thence, emanates moral authority. Servant leadership has been demonstrated in the corporate world by entities, such as Starbucks and Southwest Airlines, both of which are successful and can act as reference points for South African leadership. While noting that alien approaches to socioeconomic development, particularly neoliberalism, have largely failed in Africa, Gumede (2017) has made a strong and passionate appeal for originality in leadership and contextual specificity in policy formulation in the quest to develop the continent. He specifically contends that the solution to Africa’s main challenges—numerous, unnecessary civil wars; a mismatch between the education provided in learning institutions and the skills required in the employment sector; weak institutions and political systems; external interference and influence; and weak, ineffective leadership—is critical and conscious thinking, which he generally christens “thought leadership”. Though innovative, African thought leadership (which he further describes as “thought leadership, thought liberation and critical consciousness”) would borrow some aspects of social and economic arrangements of the precolonial era, as informed by contributions of celebrated Africanist scholars, such as Samir Amin, Cheikh Anta Diop, and Walter Rodney. It would also repudiate the Western-propelled “Africa Rising” narrative, which he finds questionable, given the fact that neoliberalism concerns itself more with enlarging profits as opposed to the enhancement of the welfare of the masses and is associated with incidences of untold inequalities and abject poverty even in the developed world. Furthermore, it would be progressive and pragmatic, instilling in leaders the concept that privilege comes with responsibility and sensitising the latter on the need to esteem the continent’s diverse cultures, which keep evolving, besides being rooted in pan-Africanism. And, ultimately, it would decolonise the African mind, which has been “condition[ed] … to feel inferior and seemingly incapable of creative endeavor” (Gumede, 2017, p. 81).

Scholarship on coups in Africa proffers insights on African leadership and society as well (McGowan, 2005; Powell & Chacha, 2019; Roessler, 2011). According to McGowan (2005), coups and conflict have been rampant in West Africa because the region’s states are weak. Weak states embody the following features: fragile, or total lack of, democracy; legitimacy deficit; the absence of unifying national identities; ineffective institutions and poor policy implementation; dysfunctional economies; and susceptibility to external interference. But why are the region’s states weak? A combination of structure and agency explains the weakness and instability witnessed in the region since independence. With regard to the aspect of structure, the peripheral role occupied by Africa in the world capitalist system has prevented the emergence of a genuine indigenous capitalist class, which would serve as the basis for building a strong state. Importantly, he notes, under such circumstances, it is relatively easier to become wealthy by engaging in corruption, while holding public office, than by doing honest business—many African leaders are choosing the corruption route. Concerning agency, the argument is that, faced with the possibility of loss of power occasioned by civil war or a coup, political leaders in Africa find it reasonable to go for the immediate personal benefits of bearing office, as opposed to concerning themselves with economic reforms, which often yield national development only after a protracted time period (McGowan, 2005). Roessler (2011, p. 301) poses an important question: “why do rulers employ ethnic exclusion if it increases the risk of civil war?” More often than not, he explains, African governance is characterised by personal rule, featuring pacts between different elite factions that work in cahoots with one another to maintain and perpetuate their collective stranglehold on power. The problem, he continues, is that there is always, due to continuous rivalries, the possibility of one faction abdicating a particular power arrangement in order to pursue a new one that puts it in greater control of the state. Due to this fluidity of power, mistrust among the various elite factions is ever present and, as a survival mechanism, they are constantly in a state of trying to purge each other. It is this state of affairs that prompts leaders to exclude rivals in order to safeguard power. Since political mobilisation often occurs along ethnic lines in Africa, when a certain elite faction is jettisoned, the same fate befalls the ethnic groups that support it. Such an eventuality, however, not only diminishes a government’s control over society but also predisposes the same society to civil war. Nonetheless, African leaders are more apprehensive of coups than they are of civil war. Thus, they persist in their exclusionary endeavours (Roessler, 2011). Regarding the Zimbabwean coup of 2017, Powell and Chacha (2019) have argued that President Mugabe received much better treatment following his ouster, compared to other African founding fathers who suffered the same fate in post-independence Africa. Whereas the latter were either imprisoned, killed or exiled, Mugabe was handled with care and his safety ensured. The explanation behind this relatively unusual turn of events, they contend, lies in the realisation of the importance of legitimacy among contemporary African leaders. Since the mistreatment of Mugabe might have rendered his ousters and successors extremely susceptible to ostracisation by the international community, the coup had to be carried out in a gentle manner.

Africa’s engagement with foreign powers has captured the attention of contemporary scholars of African leadership too (Canac & Garcia-Contreras, 2011; Gramby-Sobukwe, 2005; Miller, 2019; Osei-Hwedie & Kurantin, 2017; Tembe & XU, 2016). According to Miller (2019), Africa has great potential in terms of economic growth and human capital. Its population is largely youthful and is increasingly showing preference for urban life, which promises better opportunities of both physical and digital nature. Indeed, while it is projected that more than half of the world’s fastest growing economies will be from Africa in a couple of decades, the rate of growth in terms of uptake of internet use is also higher in the continent than anywhere else. These factors make Africa extremely attractive as an investment destination. While the US realises this and seeks to take advantage of the opportunity to boost the US economy and influence as a political power, nothing concrete has been forthcoming to back up enacted legislation. However, where the federal government (especially during the Trump era, which shunned globalism for nationalism, making it difficult to nurture political networks and relationships) has failed, various local leaders from Southern cities in the US have been proactive in forging useful educational, economic, and political ties with African leaders. Examples include Mayor Gardner of Prichard, Alabama (with ties to Benin’s President Patrice Talon), and Mayor Reed of Atlanta (with ties to [now former] Mayor Patricia de Lille of Cape Town). Essentially, contends Miller, it is paradoxical to advocate for the realisation of Africa’s economic potential while at the same time disengaging with the continent politically (Miller, 2019). What seems like reluctance and diminished interest on the part of the US is completely antithetical to China’s approach in its relationship with Africa. As noted by Osei-Hwedie and Kurantin (2017), China has become Africa’s biggest trading partner, and much of the economic progress witnessed in Africa is the result of this trade. Moreover, besides trade, aid, and investment, China has done a lot to develop Africa’s infrastructure. Worryingly, however, the economic growth witnessed in Africa as a result of its relationship with China has not been accompanied by poverty reduction and industrial development. Besides other factors, Osei-Hwedie and Kurantin (2017) attribute this phenomenon, the paradox of economic growth co-existing with increasing poverty levels, to weak political leadership and poor governance. Had African leadership been competent, they argue, it would have formulated and implemented growth policies favourable to the poor. Earnings from the export of raw materials would have been invested in social infrastructure, for instance, hospitals, schools, and clinics. And the continent’s economies would have been diversified to include manufacturing, which would have created employment and helped in poverty alleviation. Regrettably, weak institutions and predatory leadership characterise the continent, whose leaders are largely corrupt and plunder public resources, including revenues from Sino-African trade. That aside, while China’s relationship with Africa is certainly more economically beneficial in comparison to the US, there are reasons that would make one question the former’s sincerity vis-à-vis the empowerment of the continent: for instance, China has not ensured the success of its special economic zones (SEZs) initiative, which would have seen appreciable movement of labour-intensive manufacturing operations to Africa (Osei-Hwedie & Kurantin, 2017). Would the total liberation of Africa be detrimental to China?

Similar sincerity concerns arise in the case of France. As demonstrated by Canac and Garcia-Contreras (2011), while the Communauté Financière Africaine (CFA) may appear to be an exceptional example of a pluralistic security community, it is in fact questionable, and there is considerable justification in arguing that it is bogged down with deficiencies as a community and is simply another neo-colonialist entity. Noticeably, while the 14 African states (former French colonies in both West and Central Africa) that belong to the CFA franc zone have reaped some economic benefits—such as receipt of economic assistance, preferential trade agreements, official development aid, and a stable exchange rate—they are still extremely poor and underdeveloped and have not prioritised trade among themselves. Moreover, socially, they have neither grown closer nor exhibited the solidarity consistent with such a community. Interestingly, they observe, France and the European Union (EU), in general, appear not to be comfortable with the emergence of auxiliary integration arrangements within Africa, forged outside the realm of their control. Rather, they prefer Equal Partnership Agreements (EPAs) entered into with individual countries. This has resulted in the exploitation of African countries by the EU. Notably, the EU and France only value Africa for its raw materials and as a market for their products. In a nutshell, French and EU welfare and progress are dependent on the continued subjugation of Africa. In fact, the benefits derived by African members of the franc zone have largely come at the expense of national sovereignty. And France is not the benevolent leader it projects itself to be: it has pulled out considerable numbers of peacekeepers from Africa, significantly lessened assistance for insolvent economies, supported corrupt regimes, endorsed fraudulent elections, and often failed to denounce human rights abuses. Its continued efforts at the perpetuation of the CFA are, therefore, largely informed by the objective of keeping emerging powers such as China, India, and South Africa from its sphere of influence (Canac & Garcia-Contreras, 2011).

Given the preceding argument on France’s attempt to secure its domain, vis-à-vis emerging powers, it is perhaps fitting to note here that the scrutiny of South Africa as a leading light on the continent has not escaped contemporary scholarship on African leadership (Alden & Schoeman, 2013; Carmody, 2012; Ismail, 2012). According to Carmody (2012), for instance, geo-governance is supplanting hegemony, owing to globalisation, and more diverse clique of players is rising in the international relations scene. South Africa, courtesy of the considerable political and economic power it already wields in sub-Saharan Africa, is deep in the scheme of things—as evidenced by its membership of the BRICS (Brazil, Russia, India, China, and South Africa) formation—as this metamorphosis occurs. South Africa’s effort at geo-governance, as pursued within Africa, is a well-coordinated scheme that features the South African state (largely black controlled) and the country’s corporations (largely white owned). Besides explicit plans and funding, two broad strategies propel it: the involvement (and thus, further economic empowerment) of select African National Congress (ANC) members and Black Economic Empowerment (BEE) beneficiaries; and the use of the New Partnership for African Development (NEPAD) to advance dialogue on laissez-faire, in order to open up space for capital expansion. As a consequence of these measures, South Africa has bolstered its influence in Africa through increased trade and foreign direct investment. Indeed, South African companies, such as ShopRite, Eskom, and South African Breweries, have expanded their operations considerably to the rest of the continent. The country’s approach may not be sustainable, however, for it produces inequities and attracts opposition from various quarters, including competitor companies in destination states (Carmody, 2012).

The contribution of former President Thabo Mbeki, especially through NEPAD, has been cited by Alden and Schoeman (2013) as the major reason why South Africa is currently proactively and openly asserting and exerting its leadership in Africa as epitomised by its involvement in the BRICS, the G20, and the UN Security Council. Yet, they note, South Africa’s desire to exercise leadership in the region, and to gain international respect for it, is nothing new: this foreign policy objective dates back to the days of Jan Smuts, although it has been packaged distinctively, and pursued under different sets of circumstances, over time. Whereas Smuts may have sought imperial Britain’s approval of South Africa’s expansionist ambitions on the basis of the country’s contribution to the Allied onslaught in Africa during the two world wars, Mbeki, driven by the goal of procuring acceptance for a hitherto shunned state, and positioning post-apartheid South Africa to play a prominent leadership role in Africa, stressed the importance of fostering unity in a diverse continent, and spoke of an African renaissance. Nonetheless, they argue, three broad factors make its current leadership aspirations difficult to fully actualise: first, some fundamental flaws, including diminished economic growth and high unemployment levels (which have resulted in a decreasing tax base and excessive social welfare payments), characterise the economy of South Africa. Second, institutional capacity (featuring disorganisation and rivalries between different agencies tasked with policy formulation and implementation, among other aspects such as poor funding and training), is a challenge. And third, many African countries have not sanctioned South Africa’s conduct as champion of their interests in international affairs (Alden & Schoeman, 2013). In his assessment of South Africa’s contributions within the context of the World Trade Organization (WTO), Ismail (2012) contends that, since the end of apartheid, lessons deriving from the country’s internal experiences have shaped its approach in multilateral trade affairs. Accordingly, Nelson Mandela grounded his foreign policy in six principles, namely, human rights; justice and respect for international law; peace; African interests; and international cooperation on economic development. South Africa decisively and unwaveringly stuck to these principles during WTO negotiations around the following five issues: inauguration of the Doha round; Trade-Related Aspects of Intellectual Property Rights (TRIPS) and public health; the establishment of the G20; small and vulnerable economies; and the creation and harmonisation of the Non-Agricultural Market Access 11. Borrowing from lessons learnt during the anti-apartheid struggle, South Africa’s negotiators employed the following five tactics: (a) “the need to take into account the interests of ‘both’ that of South Africa and others, especially that of the African continent”; (b) “the capacity to listen to both sides of an argument”; (c) “consultations with constituencies at home”; (d) “balancing its principles with its capacity to implement”; and (e) “adhering to ‘principles’ whilst being pragmatic on ‘strategy’” (Ismail, 2012, p. 272). They preferred “‘idealist and aspirational’ discourse … rather than the narrow ‘interest driven discourse of realism’” (Ibid., p. 278). This way, they gained the trust of other developing countries. Such is the diverse nature of scholarship on leadership in Africa, whence this paper derives the conceptual framework that guides it (see section on conceptual framework below). But what has been written on or around Uhuru Kenyatta?

2.2. On Uhuru Kenyatta

Over the years, especially since he first showed interest in the presidency of Kenya during the Moi succession battle of 2002, Uhuru Kenyatta has inspired a significant amount of research, from where important insights on the country’s historical and political context partly derive. Part of this research focuses on the phenomenon of intergenerational politics in Kenya, often with Kenyatta as the main symbol (Kagwanja, 2003, 2005, 2006; Muna et al., 2014). The emergence of Kenyatta into the country’s political scene is significantly intertwined with that of the Mungiki, a “largely Kikuyu-based religio-political [youth] movement” (Kagwanja, 2003, p. 28), and Peter Kagwanja, perhaps the most astute scholar of Kenyatta’s formative years in politics, has studied the leader within this context in most of his works. Kagwanja emphasises “that the instrumentalization of ethnicity in African politics has its corollary in the concomitant instrumentalization of other identities—race, class, gender, clan, age and religion” (Kagwanja, 2006, p. 51). Accordingly, he contends, “[f]aced with the challenge of a new, multi-ethnic political coalition, President Daniel Arap Moi shifted the axis of the 2002 electoral contest from ethnicity to the politics of generational conflict” (Ibid.). This paved the way for the formation and entrenchment of patron–client associations between the ruling party Kenya African National Union (KANU’s) elites and members of the Mungiki, who lent their support to Uhuru’s presidential bid as part of an arrangement that saw the youth group obtain the green light to control of some of Nairobi’s public transport routes, thus deriving levies (Kagwanja, 2006). Would Kenyatta have been an independent, self-determined leader had his initial bid succeeded? Kagwanja (2006) suggests otherwise: according to him, “Moi unilaterally endorsed Uhuru Kenyatta, the son of his predecessor, Jomo Kenyatta, as his de facto successor as part of a grand scheme to perpetuate his patrimonial rule by proxy” (p. 52).

Scholarship on Kenyatta has also coalesced strongly around the latter’s ICC charges and the 2013 presidential election in Kenya (Bikundo, 2015; Hodgins, 2015; Kamau, 2016; Long et al., 2013; Lugano, 2017; Lynch, 2015; Malik, 2016; Mueller, 2014; Wolf, 2013). According to Hodgins (2015), the following four narratives were employed by Kenyatta to cast doubt on the sincerity and authority of the ICC, following his indictment: neo-colonialism, through which he contended “that the case against him [wa]s the result of a selectivity bias against Africans” (p. 31); sovereignty, wherein he asserted that “the ICC was a threat to the sovereignty and independence of Kenya” (p. 38); ethnic polarisation, wherein he “claimed that ethnic communities were being selectively prosecuted by the ICC” (p. 34); and national reconciliation, on account of which it was “argued that the ICC case against him should be considered antithetical to the achievement of peace and national reconciliation in Kenya” (p. 42). Lugano (2017), who espouses similar sentiments, on the framing of the ICC intervention as a neo-colonialist endeavour, holds that “the narrative achieved multiple outcomes: persuading local constituencies while delegitimizing the ICC, gaining concessions from some of the Court’s sympathizers and courting regional solidarity in battling the ICC” (p. 22). Elsewhere, James Long and others have argued that, unlike the scenario in 2007–08, the 2013 elections in Kenya were largely peaceful for the following four reasons: first, “the leaders of the two major political alliances and numerous civil society organizations publicly discouraged violence before and after the election” (Long et al., 2013, p. 149); second, “state institutions dampened incentives for activists to mobilize” (Ibid.); third, “the post-2010 Supreme Court lent procedural legitimacy to the election” (Long et al., 2013, p. 150); and fourth, “after the horrors of the 2017 contest, Kenyans above all seemed to hope for peace in 2013—so much so that many voters were willing, if necessary, to sacrifice having a fair electoral result in order to ensure peace” (Ibid.). Whereas she acknowledges the importance of Kenyatta’s heritage and affluence (which may have played a crucial role in the mobilisation of voters), Lynch (2015) contends that these factors are rather insufficient in explaining Kenyatta’s triumph in the country’s 2013 elections, which she has attributed to a “siege mentality”. In her view, “Jubilee created a siege mentality by persuading the majority of Kikuyus and a large number of non-Kikuyus that the ICC was a threat to the country’s sovereignty, peace and stability. The coalition presented Kenyatta and Ruto as best placed to promote and defend people’s individual and collective interests” (Lynch, 2015, p. 184). In reframing the ICC, she contends, the Jubilee Coalition argued as follows: “the prosecutors had conducted poor investigations; failed to confront those most responsible because of political influence, bias, vested interests, and a misunderstanding of what had occurred; and overemphasized punitive justice, to the neglect of peace and reconciliation” (Lynch, 2015, p. 186). Mueller (2014, p. 25) holds the view that “Uhuru Kenyatta and William Ruto’s run for president and deputy president as International Criminal Court (ICC) indictees was a key strategy to deflect the court and to insulate themselves from its power once they won the election”. Accordingly, she contends, it is imperative to rethink the future of international human rights treaties and criminal justice in jurisdictions that are characterised by weak institutions and disregard for the rule of law, which hinder compliance with treaties (Mueller, 2014).

Another group of scholars with a keen interest in Kenyatta has assessed the intrigues of the 2017 election cycle from different perspectives and themes (Ahluwalia, 2017; Maweu, 2019; Mutahi & Ruteere, 2019; Ndonga, 2021). Ahluwalia (2017) has argued that the Supreme Court decision to annul Kenyatta’s win during the 2017 election cycle served to somewhat reinstate validity to the country’s corrupted institutions. Furthermore, he contends, the court’s judgement “put into question the role of international observers who were widely reported as claiming that the elections were free and fair” (Ahluwalia, 2017, p. 352). With special focus on social media platforms (Twitter, Facebook, and WhatsApp), Maweu (2019) has examined disinformation and cyber propaganda in the context of Kenya’s 2017 general elections. She finds, partly, that much of the information shared by both citizens and politicians during this election cycle “was outright false, propaganda and/or half-truths which can be said to have contributed to the election outcome being branded as ‘fake’” (Maweu, 2019, p. 75). In a closely related study, Ndonga (2021) has established that the regional editions of two of the country’s leading newspapers, the Standard and the Daily Nation, reported on then President Kenyatta and opposition chief Raila Odinga in a manner that coaxed voters into casting ballots for their co-ethnics. According to Mutahi and Ruteere (2019), the astronomical proportions of police violence that coincided with fairly diminished magnitudes of inter-ethnic and gang-related violence during Kenya’s 2017 election cycle are attributable to two factors: “the slow pace of police reforms, which has reduced the hoped-for transformation of security agencies” and “the impact of devolution which provided incentives to political leaders to avoid ethnic incitement at the local level” (p. 254). Crucially, while lamenting the absence of “a shift in the institutional culture of how police should manage protests” (Ibid.), their work attempts to explain the antagonism that has characterised the Kenyan police force and the country’s Luo community (Odinga’s co-ethnics) in post-independence Kenya: on the one hand, the Luo “community is seen as ‘defiant’ and ‘troublesome’ to the government … [and is therefore] policed in a hostile manner”; on the other hand, “the community has grown to view the police and security agencies as hostile forces and their presence in the communities as a kind of ‘occupation’ rather than the provision of security or neutral maintenance of law and order” (Mutahi & Ruteere, 2019, p. 259).

Finally, Kenyatta has also featured prominently in research on the now-defunct Building Bridges Initiative (BBI), the result of a 2018 truce/“handshake” between him and Odinga, which has been viewed both positively and negatively (HORN International Institute for Strategic Studies, 2018; Kisaka & Nyadera, 2019; Onguny, 2020). The truce was seen in some quarters as the perfect opportunity to effectuate “full conflict transformation”, which would entail the revival and full implementation of Agenda 4, as outlined in the AU-brokered peace accord that ended the violence of 2007–2008. Such an approach, it was argued, would be inclusive and would also require a change in behaviour and attitudes of Kenyans and their leaders (HORN International Institute for Strategic Studies, 2018). Kisaka and Nyadera (2019) also held an optimistic view and argued that “the historical handshake provide[d] a unique opportunity to de-ethnicize … [Kenyan] politics, fight corruption and to enhance meritocracy in the public and private sectors” (p. 175). However, the conciliatory move itself served to destabilise the country in some ways for it led to the emergence of “two political factions within the [ruling] Jubilee party: The Tanga Tanga faction, perceived as [Deputy President] Ruto-leaning rebels, and the Kieleweke camp, supporting the president and the ‘handshake’ that established the BBI” (Onguny, 2020, p. 559). In a scathing assessment of the BBI, Onguny (2020) raised five concerns as follows: first, “it display[ed] short-term tendencies of election strategies rather than a durable political agreement”; second, it “d[id] not inform Kenyans of anything they d[id] not already know”; third, it “virtually regurgitate[d] the findings and recommendations of commissions that ha[d] previously inquired and documented such issues”; fourth, “it [wa]s unclear how the BBI w[ould] address rent-seeking behaviours of the elites, which are at the centre of political instability in the country”; and fifth, “it [wa]s unclear how the introduction of new executive posts, such as prime minister and leader of the opposition, w[ould] address the sponsorship of violence during elections” (p. 572).

As demonstrated above, scholarship on Uhuru Kenyatta has been crafted strongly around the various distinct stages of his career, beginning with the period when he was a presidential aspirant in 2002, right through his first and second terms as president. In his retirement, analysts have begun to ponder over the legacy of Uhuru Kenyatta (see Kodongo, 2022; Mitchell, 2022); however, comprehensive research has hardly been carried out to ascertain his long-lasting impact as a former head of state in the continent. This study aims at making a contribution towards addressing this lacuna.

3. Objectives of the study

Inspired by Kenyatta’s spectacular change of fortune, the objectives of this study are to:

1. Establish Kenyatta’s internal legacy, with a view to determining his notable socio-economic achievements vis-à-vis the ordinary citizen of Kenya and his predecessor.

2. Assess Kenyatta’s external legacy, with a view to establishing whether he can be viewed as a pan-Africanist or whether he comes across more as a subtle Western lackey.

4. Research assumptions

• Through his development approach and agenda, Kenyatta achieved more for ordinary citizens than his predecessor.

• Kenyatta’s relationship with international courts and foreign powers, his leadership endeavours in the continent, and decisions on multilateral trade affairs depict him as a pan-Africanist.

5. Theoretical framework: contextualising Pan-Africanism within Ngugi wa Thiong’o’s perceptions of Africa’s political elite class

As quite correctly argued by Mickler and Sturman, the complexity and multifaceted nature of pan-Africanism, as a concept, makes it impossible, and even injudicious, to attribute a singular definition to it (Mickler & Sturman, 2021, p. 447). However, broadly defined, pan-Africanism refers to “an ideology aimed at uniting Africans into a strong force for total liberation” (Sesanti, 2018, p. 27). It “originated from the subjugation of the African people, which manifested itself through slavery, and was followed by the foreign domination of the African development space” (Kamga, 2019, p. 418). And it is driven by the objective of “[m]eeting the challenges implied by the axiomatic commonality of identity, inexorable destiny, and the singularity of the ultimate interest of black humanity” (Araoye, 2021, p. 1). A powerful analytical tool in Afrocentric pedagogy, the ideology continues to occupy a prominent position in contemporary scholarship and has inspired a variety of studies ranging from topics such as ethical leadership, sports, social media usage, and regional governance in Africa, to issues such as racial capitalism, migration, secession, development, and language and culture (see, for example, Benjamin, 2020; Cheruiyot & Uppal, 2019; Darby, 2013; Daudu & Asuelime, 2019; Hogarth, 2018; Mondesire, 2021; Sesanti, 2017; Taye, 2021).

In his widely acclaimed work, Decolonising the Mind: The Politics of Language in African Literature, Ngugi wa Thiong’o argues that the African political elite class is not monolithic and identifies two distinct components within it: the comprador bourgeoisie and the nationalistic or patriotic bourgeoisie (Wa Thiong’o, 1986). The former, according to him, “look[s] forward to a permanent alliance with imperialism in which it play[s] the role of an intermediary between the bourgeoisie of the western metropolis and the people of the [former] colonies”; on the other hand, the nationalistic/patriotic bourgeoisie component “s[ees] the future in terms of a vigorous independent national economy in African capitalism or in some kind of socialism” (Wa Thiong’o, 1986, p. 20). A couple of other important traits characterise the nationalistic/patriotic bourgeoisie: first, they are grounded in the firm belief that “Africa ha[s] a past and a culture of dignity and human complexity” and this can be harnessed “to confront the racist bigotry of Europe” (Ibid., pp. 20–21). And second, they are “inspired by … general political awakening … [and] dr[aw] … stamina and even form from the peasantry” (Ibid.) besides being enthusiastic about Africa. I argue that the nationalistic/patriotic bourgeoisie component of the African elite class epitomises the spirit of pan-Africanism. This paper, therefore, makes assessments and draws its conclusions on the legacy of Uhuru Kenyatta within the confines of this interesting dialectic drawn by wa Thiong’o.

6. Conceptual framework

As mentioned in the introduction of the literature review section earlier, the insights emanating from the broad categories of scholarship on African leadership may aid in probing the legacies of the continent’s leaders. From the review, it is evident that leadership comprises both internal and external aspects. The internal aspect of leadership features the following elements: human rights record, conduct of elections, reforms (constitutional and otherwise), resource allocation, socioeconomic development agenda, and corruption. On the other hand, externally, the following components matter: relationship with international courts; relationship with foreign powers; leadership in the continent; multilateral trade affairs; and peacebuilding. These elements, I argue, while not exhaustive, should form part of the analysis of a leader’s legacy, and have been fused to develop the conceptual framework that informs this study as depicted in Figure 1.

Figure 1. The conceptual framework.

7. Research design and methodology

To meet its objectives, this study utilises a historical research design. “The purpose of a historical research design is to collect, verify, and synthesize evidence from the past to establish facts that defend or refute a hypothesis” (Labaree, 2021; see also Savitt, 1980). The study draws on relevant historical sources of data including Human Rights Watch (HRW) annual reports (2011–2020), obtained from the international non-governmental organisation’s (INGO’s) website, the Constitution of Kenya 2010, the now-defunct Building Bridges Initiative (BBI) Report of 2019, President Uhuru Kenyatta’s last Madaraka (Internal self-rule) Day state address delivered on 1 June 2022, information from the Government of Kenya’s (GoK’s) websites and reports, Kenya’s Budget Statements (Fiscal Year 2013/2014 to Fiscal Year 2022/2023), online newspaper articles, and other scholarly works. This approach borrows from what Foucault (1969/1972) refers to as the “archaeology” of power. In his approach to writing history, Foucault begins by identifying the problem. He then works through historical archives of particular societies to disclose the discursive formations (or events) that have led to the field of inquiry (problem). He refers to this method as archaeology.

With regard to the material produced by HRW, it is dependable for it is generated yearly in a continuous manner, ensuring that developments are captured uninterruptedly, making it extremely viable for a design whose major weakness is susceptibility to missing historical documentation. Indeed, these “reports are produced using a standardized process each year” (Fariss, 2018, p. 3). Importantly, “[t]o document human rights, monitoring organizations establish a standard of accountability, or a baseline set of expectations that states ought to meet in order to be considered respectful of human rights” (Fariss, 2018, abstract). Admittedly, however, empirical findings based on third party accounts on human rights in the continent of Africa, or elsewhere, may be considered to be biased for various reasons. The pressure exerted by donors and host governments on INGOs may have an effect on their work (Heiss & Kelley, 2017, p. 732). For example, “nondemocratic governments have tightened the regulation of NGOs and civil society as these actors have repeatedly taken central roles in domestic protests and have been empowered by social media and transnational funding and support” (Ibid.); additionally, “[t]o chase available money, INGOs can drop highly valued, but underfunded objectives in favor of issues that align more closely with the preferences of available donors” (Cooley & Ron, .2002, as cited in Heiss & Kelley, 2017, p. 733). Moreover, such datasets have been criticised for it is thought that “increased awareness coupled with better information can create a false perception that a phenomenon has increased in prevalence, or increased more than it really has” (Clark & Sikkink, 2013, p. 542). These subtleties, which characterise human rights datasets and their employment in research, are conceded here as the paper’s limitations.

8. Research findings

8.1. Assessing Kenyatta’s internal legacy

8.1.1. Human rights record

When he ascended to the presidency of Kenya, Uhuru Kenyatta, alongside his deputy Ruto, was already facing charges of crime against humanity at the ICC. His human rights record is therefore strongly tied to the manner in which he handled the ICC cases. His approach was embedded in the wanton use of state resources to frustrate the ICC prosecutor’s efforts (Roth, 2014). Kenyatta’s government, for instance, “actively campaigned at the United Nations and the African Union (AU) to have the cases dropped, deferred, or referred to a local justice mechanism” (Human Rights Watch [HRW], 2014, p. 130). Government discourse and legislative activity in parliament appeared to revolve around the issues of sovereignty and non-interference in Kenya’s internal affairs: in September 2013, for example, “the National Assembly and the Senate approved a motion calling on the Kenyan government to withdraw from the Rome Statute, the treaty establishing the ICC, which Kenya had signed in 2005” (Ibid.). And a terrorist attack on Nairobi’s Westgate Mall, on 21 September 2013, was projected as the result of the ICC preventing Kenyatta and Ruto from governing the country effectively (Roth, 2014). Also, owing to what was thought to be bribery and intimidation on a massive scale, by the Kenyan government, most prosecution witnesses withdrew from the Kenyatta and Ruto cases. Prior to Kenyatta’s ascendancy to power, “[t]he ICC prosecutor [had, in 2012,] raised concerns with the Kenyan government that the email accounts of witnesses had been hacked and correspondence accessed, and warned publicly against witness tampering” (HRW, 2013, p. 132).

In order to understand Kenyatta’s foregoing attempt at “‘domestication’ of the trial process” (Mwagiru, 2011) and assess the implications of his hostile posture towards the ICC for his legacy, it is crucial to examine his reaction within the context of the history of Kenya’s treaty practice. Besides the hybrid school, there are two main doctrines of treaty practice as follows: monism, which “maintains that international law and municipal law are part of one overarching legal system” (Ibid., p. 145); and dualism, “which argues that the two systems of law (international and municipal) are different systems of law, each component in its own domain” (Ibid., p. 146). Whereas under monism “treaties that a state has ratified are automatically part of municipal law, and are binding in that domain” (Ibid., p. 145), dualism contends that “because of their differences, states apply municipal law with no obligation to make it conform to international law”; therefore, “[i]n dualism, international law is binding municipally if the state automatically allows it to do so” (Ibid., p. 146). Also, monism “contains the methodology of incorporation … [whereby] treaties are automatically incorporated into municipal law, and hence are automatically binding”; on the other hand, dualism “is supported by the methodology of transformation … [where] treaties do not become automatically binding on states unless they have first been transformed into municipal law” (Ibid.). Prior to the promulgation of Kenya’s new constitution (1963–2010), “Kenya’s treaty practice … was … a corrupted dualist one, in which parliament was not required to give permission for the executive to ratify treaties; but where the executive ratified treaties, monist fashion, the role of parliament was to make amendments to other laws of Kenya to make them conform to the treaty” (Ibid., p. 149). The new constitution would change things drastically: it made “Kenya a monist state through section 2(5) that provides that the general rules of international law shall form part of the law of Kenya; and especially through section 2(6) that provides that any treaty of convention ratified by Kenya shall form part of the law of Kenya” (Ibid p. 150). This radically new state of affairs put Kenyatta and his fellow ICC indictees at a greater risk of conviction and punishment for it significantly minimised room for defeating justice through “subjecting … [the Rome Statute] to the vicissitudes of municipal politics” (Ibid., p. 149). Fundamentally, the kind of tactic employed by Kenyatta “poses a danger for the integrity of international law. It makes the international legal system subject to the manipulations of politicians and interest groups in pursuit of their sectoral interests” (Ibid., p. 150). And this attempt at “domesticating” Kenya’s ICC cases could be viewed as a panicky response to a new status quo that is detrimental to authoritarianism—a situation akin to the biblical parable that speaks of new wine in old wineskins.

Speaking of new wine and old wineskins, attacks on civil society, principally because of the ICC issue, characterised a large part of Kenyatta’s first term in office. Two well-known activists, in particular, faced considerable intimidation and harassment in the months following his swearing-in for their advocacy for justice for victims of the 2007–2008 poll violence: Maina Kiai (who formerly headed the Kenyan National Commission for Human Rights and was then the United Nations Special Rapporteur on the rights to freedom of peaceful assembly and of association) and Gladwell Otieno (the head of AfriCOG [Africa Center for Open Governance], a local NGO). Whereas “[a] group of youths threatened to burn down Kiai’s rural home”, in the case of Otieno, “unknown people send messages … threatening to kill members of her family if she did not stop opposing the idea of ICC partly sitting in either Kenya or Tanzania” (HRW, 2014, p. 132). Considered agents of foreign powers, NGOs would generally feel the wrath of the Kenyatta administration throughout his tenure, as epitomised by “amendments to the Public Benefits Organizations (PBO) Act, 2013, seeking to increase government control over the public benefits authority” (HRW, 2015, p. 335), which were rejected by parliament in 2014 and continuous deregistration threats by the nongovernmental organizations Coordination Board (HRW, 2016, p. 356). Media freedom was also continuously under attack during Kenyatta’s reign as legislations such as “[t]he Kenya Information and Communication Act (KICA), the Media Act of 2013, and the Security Laws Amendment Act of 2014 contain[ed] repressive provisions, which introduce[d] new harsh offences and penalties” (HRW, 2017, p. 383).

Kenyatta’s record on human rights can also be assessed in relation to the manner in which his administration reacted to terrorist attacks, which were particularly pronounced during his era. The Westgate Mall attack by Islamist terrorist group Al-Shabaab was followed by a sequence of grenade attacks and bombings in the city of Nairobi, and others in Mpeketoni at the Kenyan coast, and Mandera (north-eastern Kenya), leading to Operation Usalama (peace) Watch, a campaign conducted jointly by the country’s military and police (Roth, 2015). Roth (2015, p. 9) has described it as “a sweeping campaign that entailed rights violations of registered asylum seekers and refugees, undocumented Somalis and other foreign nationals, and ethnic Somali Kenyans”. According to him, “[a]s in previous similar operations, Kenyan police arbitrarily detained several thousand people and used excessive force, raiding homes, extorting residents, and physically abusing ethnic Somalis” (Roth, 2015, p. 9). Closely related to this operation were the activities of the Kenya Anti-Terrorism Police Unit (ATPU), which similarly depict the country’s security forces as being rogue. It is alleged that the latter, in its quest to tame the Al-Shabaab, conducted extrajudicial killings of suspects (HRW, 2014). It has further been alleged that “[s]uspects were shot dead in public places, abducted from vehicles and courtrooms, severely beaten during arrest, detained in isolated blocks, and denied contact with their families or access to lawyers. In some cases, members of the anti-riot forces known as the General Service Unit (GSU), military intelligence, and National Intelligence Service (NIS) were also implicated in abuses alongside the ATPU” (Ibid., p. 333).

Before the collapse of the Kenya ICC cases (Kenyatta’s in December 2014 and Ruto’s in April 2016), the Kenyatta administration appeared as if it was using the refugees the country was hosting as leverage in its tussle with the ICC, although justification for its actions can be made on the basis of the quest to secure the country from terrorism (especially in the wake of the Garissa University massacre, in which 142 students lost their lives). In the first quarter of 2014, for instance, “Kenyan authorities deported 359 Somali and other nationals […]. The authorities did not allow United Nations or other independent organizations to monitor the screening process, carried out Nairobi’s Kasarani stadium, or challenge deportations to conflict-ridden Somalia” (HRW, 2015, p. 334). And “[o]n April 11, [2015,] Deputy President William Ruto gave the United Nations an ultimatum to close Dadaab Refugee camp within 90 days or the government would shut it down”. However, “Kenya backed down on the threat after a visit by the UN High Commissioner for Refugees in early May” (HRW, 2016, p. 357).

In lieu of prosecutions for atrocities committed during the 2007–2008 post-election violence, owing to what the Office of the Director of Public Prosecutions in Kenya termed as insufficient evidence, President Kenyatta opted for the restorative route. In March 2015, in tandem with the recommendations of Kenya’s Truth Justice and Reconciliation Commission, he apologised to Kenyans on behalf of the government for historical injustices and human rights violations committed by the state since independence in 1963 and pledged a Restorative Justice Fund of Ksh 10 billion (US $ 9.5 million) (HRW, 2016). He would, however, leave office before operationalising the fund. And it is yet to see the light of day at the time of writing.

There are, nonetheless, numerous other aspects of Kenyatta’s reign that depict an attempt to ensure the realisation of human rights and fundamental freedoms. To begin with, his administration crafted a National Policy on Gender and Development and another on the Eradication of Female Genital Mutilation (FGM), in 2019, as part of its objective of mainstreaming human rights in governance. Guided partly by the aforementioned policy frameworks, various measures were taken to protect and empower girls and women, such as the provision of “free sanitary towels to all public primary schools countrywide to retain girls in school” (Republic of Kenya [RoK], 2020b, p. 85). According to the government of Kenya, “[i]n 2018 … 16.8 million sanitary towels [were distributed] to 3.7 million girls countrywide” (Ibid., pp. 85–86). Also, anti-FGM content was made part of the school curriculum, in addition to the “establishment of Anti FGM and Child Marriage Protection Units to fast-track the prosecution of FGM and child marriage cases with the Office of the DPP” (Ibid., p. 86). Concerned with maternal health, the Kenyatta administration, through its Linda Mama initiative, “provide[d] a package of basic health services accessed by all in the targeted population on the basis of need and not ability to pay” (Ibid., p. 90). And “Gender Based Violence Recovery Centres … [were] established in all Level 5 public hospitals” (Ibid.). Furthermore, his administration “also facilitated the formation of women owned SACCOs [Savings and Credit Cooperative Organisations] through which women were able to own property through SACCO housing schemes among other benefits” (Ibid., p. 89). As for children, “[u]nder the Presidential Bursary Fund, the Government … pa[id] school fees for 22,000 secondary school children who were orphaned and from poor families in 2019”, besides “award[ing] 9000 students joining form one with Elimu Scholarships” (Ibid., p. 83). This was in addition to “school feeding programmes in Arid and Semi-Arid (ASAL) areas” (Ibid., p. 85). In line with the National Plan of Action for Children (2015–2022), which it developed, the Kenyatta administration “attended to victims of child abuse and established Child Protection Services (CPSs) in various parts of the country” (Ibid., p. 84). Last but not least, Kenyatta instituted “a Cash Transfer Programme for Persons with Disability (PWDs) to ensure support for people living with disabilities” (Ibid., p. 87).

8.1.2. Conduct of elections

The Constitution of Kenya, 2010, mandates the National Police Service, alongside other national security organs, to strive for national security “in compliance with the law and with the utmost respect for the rule of law, democracy, human rights and fundamental freedoms” (Section 238 [2] b). The National Police Service is under the stewardship of the Inspector-General, a presidential appointee, who is expected to neither take directions from anyone in terms of “the enforcement of the law against any particular person or persons” (Section 245 [4] b) nor to “prejudice a political interest or political cause that is legitimate under this Constitution” (Section 239 [3] c). Nonetheless, contrary to these provisions, the National Police Service has often appeared to act in a partisan manner, in favour of the executive (and the ruling party), giving the impression that it is an extension of the latter. This concerning behaviour on the part of the National Police Service frequently manifests itself when the country’s opposition (and its enthusiasts) attempts to practise the freedom of assembly, demonstration, picketing, and petition, as enshrined in the bill of rights. Rather than simply being notified, so that it can provide security to attendees or participants in such events, the National Police Service often expects to be requested for authorisation, which it seldom grants anyway, for such events to occur. By conferring upon itself power it does not constitutionally wield, it has on numerous occasions set the scene for chaotic demonstrations. Kenyatta was fully in-charge of the country, during the 2017 general election, in which he contested for presidency against his perennial arch-rival, Raila Odinga, as the incumbent. And the foregoing posture of the National Police Service was prevalent during his tenure. Against this backdrop, this section assesses the conduct of elections during his rule.

In an appraisal of African leaders, Roth (2017) suggests that the continent comprises two groups of strongmen as follows: 1) those “who, refusing to transfer power peacefully, curb criticism through violence and legislation … [by] remov[ing] or extend[ing] term limits—the so-called constitutional coup”; and 2) those who “[launch] violent crackdowns to suppress opposition and public protests over flawed or unfair elections” (p. 10). Kenyatta’s conduct during the country’s 2017 election—which the country’s Supreme Court found to have been fraught with numerous irregularities and illegalities and nullified—places him firmly in the latter group.

To begin with, “[d]uring and after the August 8 polling, Kenyan police and other security agencies used excessive force against protesters, primarily in opposition strongholds … following allegations by Raila Odinga that the August 2017 elections had been rigged” (HRW, 2018, p. 319). The ruthlessness of the security agencies was one of the epic proportions: “[a]t least 67 people were shot or beaten to death by police nationwide, and hundreds were injured during these operations” (Ibid.). Moreover, “[t]here were troubling reports of rape and sexual harassment during police operations in Kisumu and Nairobi” (Ibid.). However, these elections will more profoundly be remembered “for the killing of six-month-old Samantha Pendo in Kisumu, and … nine-year-old Stephanie Moraa, who witnesses said was shot by police as she stood on the balcony of her home in Nairobi” (HRW, 2019, p. 332).

In what further shows him in bad light, Kenyatta appeared to disregard the need for strong institutions following the nullification of the presidential election results. Indeed, “[t]he ruling Jubilee party responded to the court decision with threats and intimidation of the Supreme Court Judges and moved to change election laws in a bid to weaken accountability measures for election offences” (HRW, 2018, p. 317). He was practically the sole contestant in the repeat election held on 26 October 2017, following Raila Odinga’s withdrawal, and a substantial argument of fear on the part of the apex court’s judges being the reason for upholding his second win can be made. He also seems to have weaponised the NGO Board for purposes of intimidating and harassing civil society entities following the 2017 elections. The regulatory body, for instance, “announced the cancellation of the registration of the Kenya Human Rights Commission (KHRC)—one of the oldest human rights groups in Kenya—citing alleged tax evasion and other reasons, but the cabinet secretary for interior suspended the move” (Ibid., p. 322). A couple of days later, “police and Kenya Revenue Authority (KRA) officials visited the offices of another NGO, AfriCOG, which focuses on governance issues and had challenged the 2013 election in which Kenyatta was declared winner, but were successfully resisted by AfriCOG’s lawyers” (Ibid.). Other NGOs, such as Katiba Institute, Inuka Kenya, and Muslims for Human Rights (MUHURI), were also subjected to similar treatment. In what could be described as vestiges of former President Moi’s dictatorial rule, the Kenyatta administration engaged in media censorship: “police and other government officials threatened and intimidated journalists and bloggers” during the 2017 election cycle. What is more, “[i]n early 2018, the Communications Authority of Kenya switched off at least three television stations—KTN, NTV, Citizen and Inooro—for defying government order against covering Odinga’s mock swearing in ceremony on January 30” (HRW, 2019, p. 334).

8.1.3. Reforms

Kenya’s new constitution, promulgated in 2010, brought about numerous progressive changes aimed at tackling various enduring problems including (1) “the concentration of power in the executive”; (2) “the absence of checks and balances”; and (3) “the use of land as a tool for political patronage” (HRW, 2011, p. 133). Among other things, it “reform[ed] the legislature by creating an upper house, the Senate”; “devolve[d] considerable power to a new tier of county governments and governors”; “create[d] a new post of director of public prosecutions”; and “[i]n an effort to address the judiciary’s lack of independence, … create[d] a new judiciary service commission to nominate judges” (Ibid.). Whereas the implementation of this new constitution began under his predecessor, Mwai Kibaki, a significant, if not greater, part of its operationalisation would occur under Kenyatta, owing partly to the sometimes protracted processes associated with the crafting and enactment of supporting legislation and the fact that Kibaki’s tenure was almost over. It is important to note, however, that “[a]t least 28 bills necessary to implement the 2010 constitution had not been passed by the five-year deadline on August 27[,]” 2015 (HRW, 2016, p. 351). This casts doubts on the commitment of Kenyatta’s Jubilee administration towards the implementation of constitutional reforms.

In its bid to facilitate business and ensure economic stability and growth, and create employment, the Jubilee Administration carried out various economic reforms. The first major change was the introduction of the Government Digital Programme (eCitizen payment platform, www.ecitizen.go.ke) through which “all payments to government are made electronically so as to significantly reduce administrative costs, minimize leakages and expand access to payment points” (RoK, 2015, p. 8). The impact of this innovation was such that the government “programmed to digitize at least 100 inbound payment service transactions by end of 2015 … [with] priority areas … [being] payments for business registration, land transaction services, motor vehicle and additional services under the registration of persons, including birth and death certificates” (Ibid., p. 9). The Kenyatta government also instituted “a One Stop Centre (OSC) for investors … to enable investors interested in Kenya to search for investment opportunities available in Kenya from the comfort of their homes” (RoK, 2017, p. 10). This was in addition to countrywide “One-Stop-Shop-Service centres, popularly known as Huduma Centres … [through which it] deliver[s] more than 35 services under one roof” (RoK, 2015, p. 9). At the beginning of its tenure, the Jubilee administration also “proposed the following amendments to the Procurement Law” (RoK, 2013, note 42), some of which informed the Public Procurement and Asset Disposal Act No. 33 of 2015: (a) “enhance[ment] [of] the preference and reservation for youth, women and persons with disability, from 10 percent to 30 percent”; (b) “accord[ing] exclusive preferences to local firms that manufacture, assemble, grow, extract or mine goods in priority areas such as construction materials or related supplies, furniture, motor vehicles and foodstuffs—buy Kenya, build Kenya”; and (c) reduc[tion] [of] the time it takes to initiate and award a tender to no more than 30 days’ (Ibid.). With the objective of guaranteeing the ease of doing business, Kenyatta’s government further implemented a Business Regulatory Reform Strategy from 2015. In 2015, its intentions under this strategy were as follows: (1) to “[r]educe procedures, time and costs of starting a business, getting electricity and registering property by at least 80 percent in 2016”; (2) to “[r]educe procedures, time and cost of getting construction permits and paying taxes by 50 percent and 60 percent, respectively in 2016”; and (3) “[m]ake it easy to access credit and to trade across borders” (RoK, 2015, p. 10). The Kenyatta regime, in its bid to grow the economy, also took measures to increase lending to the private sector. In this regard, it established the Treasury Mobile Direct Programme, through which it “launch[ed] … [the] M-Akiba bond” that “allow[ed] Kenyans to purchase Government Securities directly from the comfort of their mobile phones with a minimum investment of only Ksh 3,000.00” (Ibid., p. 11). This was in addition to “fast tracking the modernization of the Lands and Companies Registries to facilitate quicker collateral process as well as development of an electronic registry for movable assets” (Ibid.). Furthermore, the Kenyatta administration established “Special Economic Zones (SEZs) in key urban areas including Mombasa, Lamu and Kisumu, as part of the Vision 2030 goal to diversify manufacturing activities, create employment and boost Kenya’s investment profile” (RoK, 2017, p. 22). To encourage investment in the SEZs, it provided the following incentives, among others: “exemption on VAT, reduced corporate tax rates for a defined period, access to quality infrastructure, and one stop shops for licenses” (Ibid.).

Conscious of the importance of security for sustained economic growth and development, the Kenyatta administration, from the very onset of its tenure, prioritised investments geared towards strengthening the country’s police service. To modernise the country’s security apparatus, it set aside considerable sums for the following initiatives, among others: (1) “the purchase of security equipment”; (2) “enhanced security operations throughout the country”; (3) “enhanced crime research and investigations to understand crime dynamics and enable the law enforcers to come up with appropriate strategies for crime prevention”; (4) the “leasing [of] 1,200 motor vehicles annually to motorize [the] police force and make police patrol visible everywhere to respond to any reported crime much more efficiently”; and (5) “rapid development of 2,000 housing units through the National Housing Corporation” (RoK, 2013, note 31). The Kenyatta administration would also recruit and train a substantive number of police officers; by the time his first term was coming to an end in 2017, the figure stood at “98,732 compared to 78,885 in 2013. This … narrowed the ratio of police to the citizens to 1 officer to about 400 citizens, just about the United Nations recommendation of 1 officer to 450 citizens” (RoK, 2017, p. 11). In response to terrorist attacks in Nairobi, Lamu, Mandera, and Garissa, the government “roll[ed] out … a security surveillance system and command and control system in Nairobi and Mombasa … [to] monitor, identify and track criminals”. Also, a “border protection programme aimed at controlling the flow of persons in the porous Kenya-Somalia border and … [the country’s] ports of entry” (RoK, 2015, p. 6) was instituted. And the government “invested heavily in street lighting in major cities and towns” (RoK, 2016, p. 8). Besides taking additional measures to “deter poaching and save … [the country’s] heritage”, the Kenyatta administration introduced a Police Medical Insurance Scheme and “enhanc[ed] security at the Jomo Kenyatta International Airport (JKIA)” (RoK, 2014a, p. 5). This was in addition to “enhanced connection of the Integrated Population Registration System (IPRS) to agencies and [the] launch[ing] [of] the e-passport” (RoK, 2016, p. 8). Following the foregoing reforms and measures, there was “a significant reduction in crime. For instance, in Nairobi alone, between 2014 and 2016, cases of robberies fell by 32 percent; motor vehicle thefts fell by 43 percent; and offences targeting individuals, such as muggings, also fell by 27 percent” (RoK, 2017, p. 11).

Equally important, perhaps bogged down by a legitimacy deficit, or the desire to control his succession, Kenyatta appears to have experienced a Damascus moment, at the expense of his deputy Ruto, as he began his second term of office. Approximately 5 months after his controversial re-election, on 9 March 2018, he struck a truce with his political arch-rival, opposition chief, Raila Odinga, in what became widely known as the Building Bridges Initiative (BBI). The BBI also serves as a good platform through which to assess his position on reforms. A joint communique, issued by the two protagonists, argued for further constitutional reforms and crafted its contentions around the following nine topics: (1) lack of a national ethos; (2) responsibilities and rights; (3) ethnic antagonism and competition; (4) divisive elections; (5) inclusivity; (6) shared prosperity; (7) corruption; (8) devolution; and (9) safety and security (see Presidential Taskforce on Building Bridges to Unity Advisory [PTBBUA], 2019). The BBI Report, presented to Kenyans as a product of wide consultations with citizens at all levels of society, was declared null and void by the country’s judiciary for failing to satisfy the threshold for constitutional reform by popular initiative as spelt out in Chapter 16 Section 257 of the 2010 constitution. Although it was considered by many to be insensitive to the plight of the largely impoverished Kenyan masses, for the costs associated with its processes and the bloated government structure it would birth, it appears to have heeded the call for originality in leadership and contextual specificity in policy formulation in the quest to develop the continent espoused by Gumede (2017). While noting that Kenya’s divisive elections were the result of a “rush to adopt, and even mimic, foreign models, particularly from the democratic West … [leading to] a politics that is a contest of us versus them … on an ethnic basis”, it called for Kenyans “to do away with a winner-take-all model for the Presidency and opt for a more consociational model that works best for ethnically divided societies” (PTBBUA, 2019, pp. 9–10). Had it seen the light of day, Kenya would have had an “autochthonous national executive structure” (Ibid., p. 50) comprising an Executive President, a Deputy President, a Prime Minister, two Deputy Prime Ministers, and Cabinet Ministers. And there would have been a Leader of Official Opposition in the National Assembly. Given the coalition politics that characterised the 2022 General Election in Kenya, which featured promises to partners, of non-existent posts under the current constitution, this BBI proposition, in hindsight, seems to have been well thought out.

8.1.4. Resource allocation

Devolution was first instituted under Kenyatta’s Jubilee administration, following the election to office of the inaugural lot of governors for Kenya’s new 47 counties. Of utmost importance, Article 203(2) of the Constitution of Kenya 2010 stipulates that “[f]or every financial year, the equitable share of the revenue raised nationally that is allocated to county governments shall be not less than fifteen per cent of all revenue collected by the national government”. Generally, during the inceptive stages of implementing this new system of government, the main challenges lied in the area of transfer of functions and powers to the new counties; revenue allocation proceeded in a better way, facilitating development endeavours across Kenya (see Obala & Mosoku, 2014; Waiganjo, 2021). Nonetheless, as Kenyatta cemented his position in power, disputes emerged, and important devolution elements such as the disbursement of funds seemed to be carried out in a desultory fashion.

A statement released jointly by the governors of Nairobi, Mombasa, and Kisumu (all from Raila Odinga’s Orange Democratic Movement [ODM] Party), in 2016, suggests that the Jubilee government engaged in activities that sabotaged the functions and powers of the county governments, stifling the latter’s progress in the process. First, it alleged that “Jubilee refused to release the constitutionally stipulated 15% of the national budget to the counties for 3 years straight” (Joho et al., 2016, para. 3). Second, it continued, “counties ha[d] been struggling with the financial burden of thousands of staff inherited from the national government as well as functions devolved without funds following” (Ibid.). Third, it contended, “Jubilee still allocates upwards of KES40 billion to the Ministry of Health yet Health is a devolved function. To make matters worse, they continue to incur significant debt for counties for purchase of medical equipment without consultation”; accordingly, “[c]ounty governments across the country were coerced into paying for equipment that they had no say in procuring” (Ibid. para. 4). And fourth, it stated as follows:

In Kisumu, the local economy is on its knees after Jubilee liberalized importation rules allowing the entry of cheap fish from China to the detriment of local fishermen. To add insult to injury, President Kenyatta earlier in the year signed the controversial “Milk for Sugar” deal with Uganda that saw the local market flooded with cheap sugar imports from Uganda effectively killing the industry in Muhoroni, Awendo and other parts of Nyanza. This deal was signed with no regard as to the net effect of the sugarcane farmers and their main source of income. Thousands of families are now left destitute with no means to pay fees, pay for medical care and other basic needs. (Ibid. para. 6)

In what could be considered evidence of sabotage of devolution by the Jubilee government during its second term, on 30 June 2021, the last day of the financial year 2020/21, many counties received bulk of the funds that had been outstanding from the National Treasury (Waiganjo, 2021, para. 1). However, owing to the workings of the country’s “financial system … including the mandatory approvals from the Controller of Budget … it is impossible to spend money released on the last day of the financial year” (Ibid., paras. 2 and 3).

Even so, the period 2013–2017 (Kenyatta’s first term) saw the central government disburse approximately Ksh 1 trillion to the county governments for purposes of enhancing service delivery (RoK, 2017, p. 5), and the BBI sought to improve this: while arguing that “[p]ublic resources should follow people not land mass”, the BBI proposed additional seventy constituencies and “recommend[ed] increasing the resources to the Counties by at least 35% of the last audited accounts” (PTBBUA, 2019, p. 15). Had it been adopted, it would also have introduced a Constituencies Development Fund “to facilitate the performance and implementation of national government development priorities set out in the national budget within the constituencies” (RoK, 2020a, p. 18) and a “Ward Development Fund for each county, into which … [would have been] paid in each financial year at least five per cent of all the county government’s revenue in each financial year … for development expenditure” (Ibid.).

8.1.5. Development agenda and approach

Largely informed by his ICC predicament and the Jubilee Manifesto, and thanks to China’s ambitions of global dominance that coincided with Kenyatta’s rise to power (Omulo, 2020), Kenyatta’s presidency saw numerous mega infrastructural projects undertaken in Kenya, the most conspicuous of them being the “472 km Nairobi-Mombasa Standard Gauge Railway project … launched in 2014 and completed in 2017 at a cost of Ksh. 339 billion” (Musau, 2022, The Standard Gauge Railway section, para. 1). Others included the following: Dongo Kundu Bypass; Makupa Bridge; Mombasa-Kwa Jomvu dual carriageway; Kipevu Oil Terminal; Nairobi Expressway; and the Kisumu Port (refurbishment) (Musau, 2022). Although Kenyatta’s mega projects would drastically increase the national debt—“from Ksh1.89 trillion ($16.01 billion) in June 2013” to “Ksh8.56 trillion ($72.54 billion) in May 2022” (Anyanzwa, 2022)—he noticeably achieved more than his predecessors, in terms of infrastructure expansion. Indeed, whereas 2,000 km of tarmac road is attributed to his predecessor, Kibaki, Kenyatta’s contribution was noticeably larger at 11,000 km. As the latter would note during his last Madaraka Day speech delivered on 1 June 2022, “we have built more roads in 9 years than what the previous administrations combined, including the colonizers, built in 123 years” (Kenyatta, 2022, para. 87). Also noteworthy, in the Kenyatta era, Kenya’s “power generation [grew] 40 times, and [his administration] connected more homes to electricity than any other country in Africa” (Ibid., para. 131).

Importantly, in the post-ICC era, particularly during Kenyatta’s second term of office, the Kenyatta administration would craft and unveil what he termed the “Big 4 Agenda”, a “development plan under 4 key pillars: Manufacturing; Affordable Housing; Universal Health Coverage (UHC); and Food Security” (The Executive Office of the President, n.d.). Through this plan and approach, he hoped to pursue, accelerate, and accomplish his vision for the country during his last 5 years in power. Under the Manufacturing pillar (with opportunities in the Agro-Processing; Textile, Apparels and Leather; Heavy industries (Oil & Gas, Mining, and Iron & Steel); and ICT and Services), the objective was to “[r]aise manufacturing sector contribution to GDP from 8.5% to 15%”; “[c]reate 1,000,000 new jobs in the manufacturing sector”; and multiply foreign direct investment (FDI) fivefold, “from US$672 m to US$3.8b” (Ibid.). The goal under the pillars of Affordable Housing was to, among other things, “[d]eliver 500,000 affordable homes across the 47 counties”; “[r]educe the cost of home ownership by 50%”; and “[c]reate 300,000 new jobs in the construction sector” (Ibid.). UHC aimed at ensuring health coverage for all Kenyans. Specifically, Kenyatta purposed to “[a]ctualise 100% cost subsidy on essential health services” and “[r]educe medical out-of-pocket expenses by 54% as a percentage of household expenditure” (Ibid.). The Food Security pillar was underpinned by the bold desire “to ensure we reach 100% Food and Nutrition Security” (Ibid.) through measures such as the local manufacture of agricultural inputs (such as fertiliser, animal feed, and crop seeds) and the provision of agricultural support services like dairy processing and crop and animal insurance. All this was to be facilitated through the establishment of macroeconomic stability in the form of infrastructure expansion, security, improved governance, technology and innovation, and the provision of power (electricity) at an affordable cost. And the Big 4 Agenda was to be implemented by various stakeholders including the country’s citizens themselves, the national and county governments, local and foreign investors, and Kenya’s development partners. But, apart from what has been presented in the preceding paragraph, what were the results?

An assessment of Kenyatta’s last Madaraka Day speech, in which the latter generally desisted from highlighting achievements in the areas of food security and housing, suggests that his administration largely failed Kenyans in these areas. Nonetheless, on the manufacturing front, efforts were made to locally source “uniforms for … security organs including footwear” and these, according to the former president, “transformed … [the country’s] textiles and leather industries and unleashed thousands of new jobs for … [the] youth; in addition to the immeasurable pride in having the magical tag of ‘Made in Kenya’ affixed to those items of apparel” (Kenyatta, 2022, para. 120). The administration’s performance in pursuit of UHC appears to have been much better, for it “registered a 400% growth in the number of Kenyans insured under NHIF [National Hospital Insurance Fund] … with 17.1 Million Kenyans insured [in June 2022] compared to 4.4 Million insured as at April, 2013” (Ibid., para. 165). Also, according to Kenyatta, his administration “constructed an additional 1,912 healthcare facilities across all levels of care countrywide; representing a 43% increase in the total number of public health facilities in the country” (Ibid., para. 166). And, “[i]n the same time period, … ICU capacity [increased] by … 502%, from 108 to 651 ICU ready beds. Similarly, … [Kenya’s] total hospital bed capacity … increased by 47% from 56,069 in 2013 to 82,291 hospital beds” (Ibid., para. 167). Kenyatta’s administration delivered for kidney patients by “buil[ding] 54 renal units located in the 47 counties and install[ing] 360 state-of-the art dialysis machines” (Ibid., para. 176); this was a drastic improvement, considering that “for 50 years, the entire country was served by only 6 renal units that provided dialysis for kidney patients” (Ibid., para. 175). Moreover, he made dialysis accessible, with “[t]he only cost … [being] a subscription fee of Ksh 500 per month to the National Insurance Hospital Fund, NHIF” (Ibid., para. 176).

As already mentioned, on the technology and innovation front, the most outstanding innovation of the Kenyatta era was “the introduction of Huduma Centres and online platform eCitizen” (Ibid., para. 91); this move made “access to public services a fast and pleasant experience and not a toil that every citizen must endure so as to obtain basic services” (Ibid.). Indeed, it has become possible for Kenyans to make online applications for crucial documents—passports, birth and marriage certificates, drivers’ and business licenses included—regardless of their location in the world. In like fashion, “Kenyans now file and serve documents for their Court Cases online” (Ibid., para. 92), and cases of missing court files have dwindled.

Incidentally, like his predecessor, Kenyatta appears to have been considerably passionate about the socioeconomic welfare of various vulnerable societal groups, including children, the youth, and women. During his tenure, the government of Kenya initiated “a flagship National Safety Net Program (NSNP) dubbed Inua Jamii which disburse[d] cash transfer to poor and vulnerable populations” (RoK, 2020b, p. 80). Besides “support[ing] 101,640 households in four ASAL [Arid and Semi-Arid Lands] Counties namely Marsabit, Mandera, Turkana and Wajir” (Ibid.), NSNP featured the following three components: “Cash Transfer to Orphans and Vulnerable Children (CT-OVC) for 352,000 households; Older Persons Cash Transfer (OPCT) for 833,000 persons; and Persons with Severe Disabilities Cash Transfer (PWSD-CT) for 47,000 persons” (Ibid.). Additionally, the Kenyatta administration “established Affirmative Action Funds such as the … National Government Affirmative Action Fund (NGAAF); and UWEZO Fund” (Ibid., p. 95). Through these funds, it availed “credit to youth groups, women and Persons with Disabilities in all the 47 counties for economic empowerment, development programmes and projects to enhance an entrepreneurial culture among them and to create wealth and employment among them” (Ibid.).

8.1.6. Corruption

During Kenyatta’s tenure, especially his first term of office, an aura of corruption bedevilled Kenya. From the moment the Jubilee administration ascended to power, the country was inundated with allegations of corruption, featuring a rich assortment of alleged perpetrators, making it appear as if the vice had become part of the fabric of Kenyan ethos and society. The stretch from 2013 to 2018 witnessed scandals of monumental proportions in various sectors of both tiers of government. If it was not ostentatious and wasteful incidences of jet hiring by top government officials (Ayaga, 2014), it was misappropriations in the National Cereals and Produce Board (NCPB) (Citizen Reporter, 2018). Barely a year after Kenyatta’s accession to power, an important pillar of his elaborate manifesto, the provision of laptops to school children, collapsed due to dubious tendering processes (Obara, 2019). There were also allegations of land grabbing by top government officers (Teyie, 2014), and similar incidences, of county governors bribing judges, were reported (Muvunyi, 2016). During this era, calls for suspension of government development schemes due to failed pilot endeavours were commonplace, and embezzlement allegations led to resignations such as that of the Youth Fund Board Chairman (see Houreld, 2019; Karanja, 2016). The Auditor-General stated in 2016 that a significant proportion of funds the Kenyan government had raised through a Eurobond could not be accounted for (Mutai, 2018). At one time, senior managers of the National Social Security Fund (NSSF) were alleged to have used the organisation’s funds to purchase fictional shares from the Nairobi Stock Exchange (Ochieng, 2016). President Kenyatta’s own kin was reportedly involved in a scandal that rocked the Ministry of Health in October 2016 (see Ndanyi, 2016). Various county governments, associated with both sides of the political divide, Jubilee and the National Super Alliance (NASA), such as Nairobi, Kilifi, Bungoma, and Mombasa, were shaken by allegations of graft and embezzlement of billions of funds by senior officials (Otieno, n.d..). On the security front, most Kenyans were not amused after the Kenya-Somalia border wall ended up being constructed of barbed wire despite investments that could have yielded something better (BBC, 2019). In 2017, the procurement of defective military aircraft from Jordan led to waste of public resources (Mutai, 2017).

So dire was the situation that Kenyatta was quoted as saying that about 2 billion Kenyan shillings were stolen daily by public officials (see Osweta, 2021). The following facts signify the gravity of the problem during the tenure of the Jubilee administration: (i) “Kenya ranks worse than average in almost every dimension of corruption involving business interactions with public officials”; (ii) “The value of graft cases involving top government officials registered in court in 2019 was nearly double the amount allocated to the actualisation of President Uhuru Kenyatta’s Big Four agenda in the fiscal year 2018/2019, which was Sh73.75 billion”; and (iii) “The national government could not account for about Sh514.6 billion, equivalent to Sh1.4 billion daily, in the fiscal year 2017/2018, while in the previous financial year the unexplained amount was Sh381.7 billion (over one billion every day)” (Osweta, 2021). The Kenyatta era will certainly be etched in the minds of Kenyans for corruption. And it does not help matters that “Kenyatta, along with his mother, sisters and brother, have for decades shielded wealth from public scrutiny through foundations and companies in tax havens, including Panama, with assets worth more than $30 million” (Fitzgibbon, 2021, para. 5) according to the Pandora Papers.

Although the foregoing overwhelming incidences and narratives of alleged and actual corruption may suggest that the Kenyatta administration did not take meaningful steps to address the vice, this was not always the case. While attempts to tackle corruption in Kenya have often lacked political backing (Kanyinga, 2019), the Jubilee administration, throughout its tenure, tried to mitigate the problem in various ways: first, midway through his first term, Kenyatta “launched a new Code of Governance for State Corporations called ‘Mwongozo’ which [wa]s expected to address governance and management challenges in … [the country’s] Parastatals” (RoK, 2015, p. 8). Second, in order “to rationalize … expenditures and assure efficiency and value for money”, the Jubilee government did “roll-out e-Procurement by making operational the Procure-to-Pay module of the Integrated Financial Management System (IFMIS)”; this paved way for “all government procurement … [to] be done electronically” (RoK, 2014a, p. 6), sounding the death knell for the practice of inflating prices. Third, the Kenyatta regime “implement[ed] a Digital Government Gateway to effectively link Government payments and service delivery … [making] it easier for Kenyans to pay for services delivered … [while] also seal[ing] loopholes and rais[ing] more revenues” (Ibid.). Fourth, in 2015, the government “fully operationaliz[ed] the Kenya National Electronic Single Window System for use by all importers and exporters and other related stakeholders”, thus “seal[ing] loopholes through which revenues to Government are misappropriated” (RoK, 2015, p. 8). Fifth, through a collective effort by the Multi-Agency Team (MAT)—the Kenya Police Service, the Ethics and Anti-Corruption Commission, the Financial Reporting Centre, the Directorate of Public Prosecutions, the Kenya Revenue Authority, and the Asset Recovery Agency—close to 400 corruption cases were taken to court following investigations conducted during Kenyatta’s first term (RoK, 2016, p. 9). And sixth, “working with the Government of the United Kingdom”, the Kenyatta administration “traced and recovered KSh 577 million from the Smith and Ouzman case and the Jersey case” (RoK, 2017, p. 12). Whilst the former case involved the UK printing company’s bribery of public officials for business contracts, the latter case concerned the “transfer [of] illicit money from one of … [the country’s] Parastatals (KPLC)” (RoK, 2016, p. 9). Notably, also, the “handshake” between Kenyatta and Odinga appeared to give new impetus to the fight against corruption (Kanyinga, 2019). Indeed, “the president re-organized the departments responsible for investigations and public prosecution. He appointed new officers in these departments and directed them to investigate cases of corruption and begin prosecutions” (Ibid., p. 26). Correspondingly, “[a] number of senior government officials and politicians were arrested. These included sitting governors; and one Permanent Secretary” (Ibid.). However, some “argued that the government was selective in this fight against corruption because a majority of those arrested and charged were allies of the Deputy President. This then contributed to rapid politicisation of the fight against corruption” (Ibid.).

8.2. Assessing Kenyatta’s external legacy

8.2.1. Relationship with international courts

Kenyatta, from the onset of his reign, had an extremely belligerent relationship with the ICC. Having “effectively reframed the ICC’s intervention … as an example of injustice and neo-colonialism, and a threat to the country’s peace and stability” (Lynch, 2015, p. 186), he seemed hell-bent on crippling or making the international court irrelevant, by inciting the African continent against it. Throughout 2013, for instance, his administration lobbied strongly, albeit unsuccessfully, for “a mass withdrawal of African states from the ICC” (Roth, 2014, p. 10). In its endeavours to undermine the ICC, Kenya sought and obtained the strongest support from its Eastern African neighbours—Tanzania, Uganda, Rwanda, Ethiopia, and Burundi—all of which “called for the Kenyan ICC cases to be dropped or referred to a domestic mechanism” (HRW, 2014, p. 135). In 2013, in a show of solidarity, “the five African countries [applied] to be enjoined in the Kenyan cases as friends of the court, in order to provide their views as to whether the deputy president should be excused from appearing in person at trial” (Ibid.). And “the AU passed a resolution calling for sitting heads of state to have immunity from prosecution before international courts, urging the Kenyan president not to appear before the ICC” (HRW, 2015, p. 336). Furthermore, owing largely to Kenyatta’s anti-ICC campaign, “[i]n July 2014, the AU approved immunity for some senior officials in a newly adopted protocol to extend the jurisdiction of the African Court of Justice and Human Rights to trials of international crimes” (Ibid.).

Kenyatta’s strategy and onslaught against the ICC appears to have emboldened and inspired other African leaders too: whereas “Sudan expelled humanitarian organizations from Darfur in response to the March 2009 ICC arrest warrant for President Omar al-Bashir”, in another scenario, “President Jacob Zuma’s government in South Africa targeted the group that had obtained a court ruling against its welcoming of Bashir, whose ICC warrants the government openly flouted” (HRW, 2016, p. 11). Yet what appears to have been a Kenyatta-inspired revolt against the ICC was not confined to these two cases: indeed, in 2016, Burundi’s “Pierre Nkurunziza … announce[d] plans to withdraw from the International Criminal Court (ICC), because violent repression had made him a prime target for prosecution” (Roth, 2017, p. 10); and a similar pronouncement had been made by Gambia’s Yahya Jammeh before his ouster from power by Adama Barrow, who rescinded the former’s decision (Ibid.). Notably, though, “civic groups across the continent … reaffirmed their support for the ICC” (Roth, 2017, p. 11). According to Roth (2017), “[t]hey were backed by such states as Nigeria, Tanzania, Senegal, and Ghana … [which] saw the fallacious claim that the ICC, led by an African chief prosecutor who is fighting to end the impunity that has caused so many African people to suffer atrocities without recourse, is somehow anti-African” (p. 11).

Nevertheless, it is also important to state here that if the AU resolution “that affirmed personal, which is to say procedural and not official, immunity from prosecution before the ICC or Heads of State and Government as long as they remained such” (Bikundo, 2015, p. 33) is to be interpreted as impunity, then the vice is neither inherently nor exclusively African. Indeed, as argued by Bikundo (2015), the basis of Kenyatta’s declaration that, to safeguard Kenya’s sovereignty, he was appearing before the ICC as a private citizen and not Head of State, following the AU resolution, lies in Calvin’s Case, a “famous English decision” that “goes back to at least four centuries” (p. 33). To elucidate:

In the Calvin Case, the court found that there were distinct and separate political and personal capacities united in the King—a natural body and a political body. As a result his “[d]ignity never dies” but is passed on seamlessly to the next mortal body that is crowned sovereign. This dignity is of juridical origin and enables the perpetuity of political power by emancipating the immortal sovereign persona from its mortal bearer. (Bikundo, 2015, p. 33)

Following this logic, and if the West is the standard by which Africa is to be judged, Kenyatta’s approach appears justified and well grounded, and the contention that the AU resolution was misguided considerably falls apart. In fact, it exposes the hypocrisy of global powers such as the US, who, while calling for accountability from African nations, have refused to subject themselves to the jurisdiction of the ICC. And Kenyatta’s neo-colonial argument holds water when one considers two additional factors: “the fact that all of the ICC’s cases are in Africa”, and “Europe’s outspoken support for, and extensive funding of, the court” (Lynch, 2015, p. 186).

8.2.2. Relationship with foreign powers

The East–West dichotomy is crucial to understanding global affairs and this section examines Kenya’s relationship with foreign powers within this context. As mentioned in the introduction of this paper, Kenyatta’s election in 2013 was unique in the sense that, together with his deputy, Ruto, they ascended to power whilst confronting charges of crimes against humanity at the ICC following Kenya’s 2007–2008 post-election violence (see HRW, 2014, p. 129). This situation made Kenya’s relationship with the US and Europe frosty at the beginning of Kenyatta’s first term, for the West “continued to call for accountability for 2007–2008 post-election violence and urged Kenya to cooperate with the ICC following the coming to power of the Jubilee Alliance” (Ibid., p. 135). The cold shoulder treatment accorded to Kenyatta and his administration was epitomised by President Obama’s omission of Kenya from his itinerary when he visited Africa in June 2013 (Ibid.). The latter, on his mission “to meet with leaders from government, business, and civil society, and to reinforce U.S. commitment to expanding economic growth, investment and trade; [besides] strengthening democratic institutions; and investing in the next generation of African leaders” (The White House, 2013), chose Senegal, South Africa, and Tanzania instead. Terror, which appears to be America’s soft spot, would begin to rekindle the relationship between the two countries, following the attack on Nairobi’s Westgate Mall in September 2013 (HRW, 2014, p. 135). Nonetheless, “Kenyatta visited the United Kingdom in 2013 and the United States in August and September 2014 during the US-Africa Summit and the UN General Assembly”; notably, “[d]uring the US-Africa Summit, the US government announced a Security Governance Initiative (SGI) of up to $65 million that would benefit six African countries, including Kenya” (HRW, 2015, p. 336). Following the collapse of Kenyatta’s ICC case in December 2014, Kenya began shedding off its pariah image; undoubtedly, as has already been demonstrated, in the eyes of the US and its Western allies, “Kenya plays a prominent regional role particularly regarding counterterrorism efforts” (HRW, 2016, p. 359). It is important, however, to stress here that, around this time, Kenyan forces were in Somalia as part of the African Union forces. Moreover, “President Kenyatta also actively participated in peace negotiations in South Sudan” (Ibid.). Such additional factors, coupled with the ICC case collapse, helped normalise relations between the two entities, which largely featured diminished pressure for accountability from the West, when Obama finally visited Kenya in 2015, and for the rest of Kenyatta’s tenure. In fact, “[d]espite concerns about the credibility of the August [2017] elections, the US and UK missions urged the opposition to accept the outcome and concede defeat” (HRW, 2018, p. 323).

In a critical assessment of China, Kenneth Roth has argued as follows: “China’s much-touted ‘One Belt, One Road’ Initiative to develop trade infrastructure fostered autocratic mismanagement in other countries. In keeping with Beijing’s longstanding practice, Belt and Road loans come with no visible conditions, making Beijing a preferred lender for autocrats” (Roth, 2019, p. 4). These insights perhaps explain Kenyatta’s foreign policy in the period under which he faced pressure for accountability from the West at the inceptive stages of his presidency. Upon assuming power, Kenyatta’s “administration moved to strengthen relations with Russia and China, with visits by President Kenyatta to both countries in August 2013 [following which] China approved a development loan of US$ 5 billion … and announced the strengthening of trade ties with Kenya” (HRW, 2014, p. 135). These ties grew stronger and blossomed throughout Kenyatta’s tenure, and, perhaps a pointer to the benefits that might accrue for Africa out of a multipolar global power structure, are mostly the reason behind Kenya’s “world-class infrastructure, from iconic elevated expressways to floating bridges, [which] have put Kenya on the global map” (Kenyatta, 2022, para. 89). As put by Kenyatta (2022) himself, these ties “have [helped Kenya distinguish itself] … as an investment destination of choice, a regional and continental hub, and a leader on the African continent” (para. 89).

The foregoing dialectical postures and arguments depicted by Roth and Kenyatta on Sino-African relations make it appropriate to pose a couple of questions here, on the emerging world power, within the confines of Ngugi’s intimation of pan-Africanism: but first, let us examine what China wants from Africa. According to Hanauer and Morris (2014), unlike the US and its Western allies, whose focus is “on higher-technology trade and services, as well as on aid policies aimed at promoting democracy, good governance, and human development” (p. 4), China’s interests in Africa are largely informed by the following four factors: (i) “it wants access to natural resources, particularly oil and gas”; (ii) “investments in Africa, a huge market for Chinese exported goods, might facilitate China’s efforts to restructure its own economy away from labor-intensive industries, especially as labor costs in China increase”; (iii) “China wants political legitimacy. The Chinese government believes that strengthening Sino-African relations helps raise China’s own international influence”; and (iv) “China has sought a more constructive role as contributor to stability in the region, partly to mitigate security-related threats to China’s economic interests” (Hanauer & Morris, 2014, p. 1). In a nutshell, “Chinese engagement in Africa is primarily concerned with natural resource extraction, infrastructure development, and manufacturing” (Ibid., p. 4).

Does China’s approach in its relationship with Africa recognise that the cradle of humankind has a past and a culture of dignity and human complexity that serve as its strength, especially in relations with external parties? In a white paper titled China and Africa in the New Era: A Partnership of Equals, China boasts of a shared past with Africa, citing the struggle for Africa’s political independence, in which China played a significant role. And cultural prosperity is presented as one of the objectives of Sino-Africa engagements (The State Council Information Office of the People’s Republic of China [TSCIOPRC], 2021). “In pursuing cultural prosperity”, it is argued,

China and Africa will work to strengthen the bond between their peoples by increasing exchanges, mutual learning and harmonious co-existence between the civilizations of the two sides, invigorating their civilizations and cultures, enriching their artistic creations, and providing richer cultural nourishment. (TSCIOPRC, 2021, Building an Even Stronger China-Africa Community of Shared Future section, para. 19)

This implies that China recognises that Africa has a past and a culture of dignity that it has to respect in order for meaningful relations to be continuously forged and maintained. This realisation becomes more apparent when one considers that

[i]n developing relations with Africa, there are five lines that China will not cross: no interference in African countries’ choice of a development path that fits their national conditions; no interference in African countries’ internal affairs; no imposition of its will on African countries; no attachment of political strings to assistance to Africa; and no pursuit of selfish political gains through investment and financing cooperation with Africa. (Ibid., para. 14)

Nevertheless, it is important to note, “[s]ome in Africa … are critical of Chinese engagement. Labor unions, civil society groups, and other segments of African societies criticize Chinese enterprises for poor labor conditions, unsustainable environmental practices, and job displacement” (Hanauer & Morris, 2014, p. 3). And “[i]n some countries, resentment at Chinese business practices has led to popular protests and violence against Chinese businessmen and migrants” (Ibid.).

Does China’s relationship with Africa promise to liberate the continent from a possible scenario of permanent alliance with Western imperialism? Although “[m]any African leaders believe that as a fellow developing country, China has more altruistic motives than Western governments and corporations do”, there is some merit in the argument by “good-governance watchdogs … that China negotiates unfair deals that take advantage of African governments’ relative weaknesses and that foster corruption and wasteful decisionmaking”; accordingly, it could be argued that “China perpetuates a neo-colonial relationship in which Africa exports raw materials to China in exchange for manufactured goods” (Ibid.). Moreover,

Chinese engagement does not fundamentally undermine … [Western] economic and political goals on the continent. On the contrary, Chinese-built infrastructure helps reduce businesses’ operating costs and expand the size of regional markets, increasing opportunities for profitable ventures by … U.S. [and other Western] investors. (Hanauer & Morris, 2014, p. 4)

It is therefore difficult to argue that Sino-African relations can fully liberate the continent from what wa Thiong’o refers to as a permanent alliance with Western imperialism.

Taken holistically, the above insights make it problematic to unequivocally qualify Kenyatta’s engagement with China at the expense of the West as an act of unimpeachable pan-Africanism. While, on the one hand, China’s apparent respect for Africa and its peoples, and the tangible benefits accruing to the continent as a result of this relationship, can be considered to be important building blocks in the quest to purge Africa of the effects of European racism, and thus dignify it, on the other hand, it is possible to argue that African leaders are, in fact, Oriental lackeys for engaging with China, if the negative aspects of this relationship are taken into account.

8.2.3. Leadership in the continent and multilateral trade affairs

Under Uhuru Kenyatta, Kenya was extremely proactive in a diplomatic sense and went out of its way to fulfil its international obligations. Perhaps to demonstrate its commitment, in November 2014, approximately a year after his ascension to power, Kenya’s Ministry of Foreign Affairs and International Trade, under then Cabinet Secretary Amina Mohammed, published a document (the first of its kind in Kenya’s history) titled “Kenya Foreign Policy” to act as a reference point for the Kenyatta regime. According to the document, the country’s foreign policy is anchored on the following five connected pillars: “Peace diplomacy pillar; Economic diplomacy pillar; Diaspora diplomacy pillar; Environment diplomacy pillar; and Cultural diplomacy pillar” (RoK, 2014b, p. 22). In the foreword to the document, which describes itself as afro-centric, Kenyatta himself states that “[i]n pursuing the country’s socio-economic and political interests, Kenya will seek to promote sub-regional and regional integration and cooperation emphasizing intra-African trade as the cornerstone for Africa’s socio-economic and political unity” (Ibid., p. 5). Notably, Kenya Foreign Policy notes that “[t]he EAC [East African Community] is Kenya’s most important foreign policy vehicle and her major trading and investment bloc”; accordingly, “[g]uided by the vision of shared prosperity with its neighbours, Kenya will continue to strengthen ties with the EAC countries” (Ibid., p. 28). And the objectives of the economic diplomacy pillar include the following: (1) to “[s]trengthen regional economic communities and organizations to serve as competitive spring boards to emerging and global markets” and (2) to “[p]romote fair trade and equitable bilateral, regional and multilateral trade agreements” (Ibid., p. 24).

Various events and initiatives that demonstrate and showcase Kenya’s leadership prowess, both continentally and globally, occurred during the Kenyatta era: to begin with, “[t]he Government of Kenya … contest[ed] as the African endorsed candidate for one of the ten non-permanent seat of the Security Council for the period 2021–2022” (RoK, 2020b, p. 12). The country had “hosted the Tenth Session of the WTO Ministerial Conference (MC10) in Nairobi from 15th to 18th December, 2015, the first of its kind in Africa in 20 years” (Ibid.). Prior to that, “[t]he 20th Session of CAMI [Conference of Africa Union Ministers of Industry] was convened in Nairobi, Kenya in June, 2013” (RoK, 2020b, p. 16). It is notable also that “Kenya was elected the chair of the Executive Council of the UNWTO [United Nations World Tourism Organization] General Assembly on 9^th September, 2019, for a term of two years in St. Petersburg, Russia” (Ibid., p. 17). Additionally, “[d]uring CHOGM [Commonwealth Heads of State and Government] 2018, the Commonwealth Ministerial Action Group (CMAG) members elected Kenya to chair the group for the next two (2) years” (Ibid.). Similarly, the country “hosted the 12th Commonwealth Women Affairs Ministers Meeting from 16th to 20^th September, 2019” (Ibid., p. 18), and “the WHO Global Management Meeting in Nairobi in December, 2018, being the first meeting to have been held outside WHO headquarters in Geneva” (Ibid., p. 29). And “[t]he 9th ACP [African, Caribbean and Pacific Group of States] Summit was held in Nairobi [on 9th to 10th December, 2019] under the theme: ‘A Transformed ACP: Committed to Multilateralism’” (Ibid., p. 22). These occurrences demonstrate the Kenyatta administration’s devotion towards tackling continental and global problems.

This apparent steadfastness of the Kenyatta regime in terms of multilateral affairs is also evident in the numerous international conventions the former president either negotiated, signed, or put into effect during his tenure. These included the following: the Africa Union Mechanism for Police Cooperation (AFRIPOL) aimed at synchronising policing to handle crime in the continent (Republic, 2020b, p. 40); the East African Community Protocol on Peace and Security, “developed to promote peace, security, stability and good neighborliness among the EAC Partner States” (Ibid., p. 72); the Protocol Amending the Marrakesh Agreement Establishing the World Trade Organization, “which aims at simplifying, harmonizing, and automation of custom procedures with the view to expediting the movement, release and clearance of goods including goods in transit and thereby reducing the cost of doing business” (Ibid., p. 106); the East African Community (EAC)/European Union (EU) Economic Partnership Agreements (EPAs)—“Kenya together with other East African Community (EAC) Partner States concluded EPA Negotiations with the European Union (EU) on 16th October, 2014. Kenya signed the EAC/EPA Agreement on 1st September, 2016, and ratified it on 20th September, 2016” (Ibid., p. 111); and the Protocol on the Establishment of the East African Community Monetary Union, which “seeks to establish a single currency in the Community by 2024” (Ibid., p. 114).

Ultimately, though, Kenya’s record under Kenyatta, in terms of leadership on the continent, and multilateral trade affairs, is variegated, characterised by both positive and negative aspects, from the pan-Africanist standpoint, as depicted by four instances as follows: First, “[o]n the regional front … Kenya led the push to admit the Democratic Republic of Congo into the East African Community [EAC]” (Kenyatta, 2022, para. 48). This resulted in the growth of “the EAC common market … by 90 million people [and] yield[ed] a now expanded market of 300 million and the consequent enhanced opportunities for Kenyan enterprises” (Ibid.). Other EAC countries also stand to reap similar benefits from the new state of affairs. Second, for some reason, at the 10th WTO Ministerial Conference held in Nairobi in December 2015, Kenya appeared to betray fellow Africans, and other countries that face the same predicament as the East African nation, such as the BRICS, by “exclud[ing] ‘African issues’ from the agenda while simultaneously pushing through the Expansion of the Information Technology Agreement (ITA), which benefits US corporations” (Campbell, 2016, Introduction section, para. 1). Third, given Kenya’s awareness of the fact that Western countries have been in the habit of forming regional groupings, to sabotage Africa’s efforts on the international trade front (see RoK, 1989, p. 2, 1991, pp. 3–4), it is also baffling that in September 2016, the Kenyatta administration—alongside Rwanda—seemed to betray the EAC by going against the region’s intentions of trade on a region to region basis, and unilaterally ratifying the EU Economic Partnership Agreement (EPA), which has the appearance of a trap aimed at deindustrialising Africa (see Mbaka, 2016), since “[i]mports from the EU into the region are dominated by machinery and mechanical appliances, equipment and parts, vehicles and pharmaceutical products” (European Commission, 2016). While the EPA “will [shield] the country from heavy taxes on exports to the European Union” (Mbaka, 2016), the counterargument that divide-and-conquer tactics are very much at play and are increasingly being applied by the forces behind the world monopoly capitalist system, which have perfected the art of bullying developing nations, can be made. Nevertheless, to be fair to Kenyatta, he had to protect Kenya’s interests. As argued by Ogutu (2020):

Kenya is the only EAC country not classified as an LDC [Least Developed Country], and the failure to finalise the agreement would have been costly to Kenya compared to other EAC states. As LDCs, other EAC members would still have been able to access the European single market under the EU’s GSP [Generalised Scheme of Preference] scheme, or the Everything But Arms (EBA) initiative, while Kenya would have lost preferential treatment. (Challenges from the East African Community sub-section, para. 5)

And fourthly, in 2020, the Kenyatta administration unilaterally entered into negotiations for a free trade agreement (FTA) with the US, in violation of the “EAC and the AfCFTA [African Continental Free Trade Area] agreements [which] discourage members from pursuing bilateral trade deals with third parties” (Ibid., para. 2). The motivations of the US were partly as follows: first, to counteract China’s influence in the continent; second, to exploit Kenya’s hegemonic position in Eastern Africa for the purposes of obtaining access for US companies into the region; and third, to use the FTA as a guide for US-Africa relations upon the lapse of the African Growth and Opportunity Act (AGOA), which grants substantive US market access to various sub-Saharan African countries including Kenya, in 2025 (Ogutu, 2020). On the other hand, Kenya took this initiative in order “to permanently secure the benefits it currently enjoys with the US under AGOA” (Ibid., Kenya’s Motivations: Maintaining Preferential Market Access to the US section, para. 1); since “the US has emerged as one of Kenya’s top export markets … failure to secure the FTA … would place Kenya in a precarious trade position compared to other EAC countries should AGOA fail to renew” (Ibid., para. 2). Evidently, it was economically sensible for Kenyatta to take this approach; however, “the move erode[d] Kenya’s stature and standing as an advocate for Pan-Africanism and regional integration” (Ibid., Implications for Kenya section, para. 2).

8.2.4. Peacebuilding

During his tenure, President Kenyatta was involved in a significant way in efforts aimed at promoting peace, security, and stability in the eastern African region as a whole and in international diplomacy at large. For instance, as mentioned in the section on relationship with foreign powers above, “Kenya [wa]s a troop contributor to the African Mission to Somalia (AMISOM) and the UN peacekeeping mission in South Sudan (UNMISS)” (HRW, 2018, p. 323). In the immediate aftermath of his presidency, which officially ended on 13 September 2022, Kenyatta continues to be considerably enmeshed in peacebuilding endeavours in the region after being appointed Kenya’s peace envoy for the Great Lakes Region and the Horn of Africa, by his successor, William Ruto (see Owino, 2022). So far, in this role, he has been a key member—alongside his counterparts, the African Union (AU) High Representative for the Horn of Africa, Olusegun Obasanjo (former Nigerian President), and Phumzile Mlambo-Ngcuka (former Deputy President of South Africa)—of the High-Level Panel for the AU-led Ethiopian Peace Process. This panel is credited for brokering the Cessation of Hostilities Agreement between the Government of the Federal Democratic Republic of Ethiopia and the Tigray Peoples’ Liberation Front (TPLF) in November 2022, in Pretoria, South Africa. This comes “after more than a year of conflict that has claimed an unknown number of lives and displaced many” (Kimuyu, 2022, para. 2). Kenyatta has also been instrumental, in conjunction with EAC Heads of State, in “calling for the immediate cessation of hostilities in the eastern Democratic Republic of Congo (DRC) and the restoration of peace” (Njeru, 2022, para. 1). Following “the EAC-led Nairobi process, which took place from November 4 to 13[,] [2022]” (Ibid., para. 5), Kenyatta “pitched camp in Kinshasa … meeting with various community groups, international organisations, members of the diplomatic corps, and Government officials in Eastern DRC” (Ibid., para. 7).

9. Conclusion

Inspired by Uhuru Kenyatta’s spectacular change of fortune in the midst of his tenure, vis-à-vis his relationship with the West, this paper sought to establish the legacy of Kenya’s fourth president and posed the following two broad questions: (1) with regard to both internal and external affairs, what were Kenyatta’s notable achievements? and (2) can he be considered a pan-Africanist, or was he more of a subtle Western lackey? A highly controversial figure, it finds, Uhuru Kenyatta projects a strong image of ambivalence in almost every analytical aspect presented in this paper. From a socioeconomic sense, he had a good vision for the largely impoverished Kenyan masses, as depicted by his Big 4 Agenda, but he seems to have done more to integrate the country into the global capital matrix than to make life easier for the ordinary Kenyan citizen. Indeed, whereas he failed to make significant strides in the areas of food security and housing, his infrastructural projects will not only attract but also enable foreign direct investment to thrive. Rather than deeply entrenching welfare, his leadership style provided conditions suitable for those that believe in individual enterprise. Importantly, instead of eschewing foreign debt, he saw “debt as a catalyst for rapid development”, arguing that “[t]he only time that debt is a burden to a nation is if the nation is led by a cabal of looters” (Kenyatta, 2022, para. 139). Yet his observations were somewhat paradoxical, for his tenure was characterised by allegations of untold corruption, some of which involved his kin.

Although it may be argued that he instituted the BBI to stop his deputy from succeeding him and to perpetuate his stay in power through the back door, others will see him as a man of conciliation, who was willing to commit political suicide to set Kenya on a straight path. He went out of his way to embrace his political nemesis, Raila Odinga, in what could be considered an attempt to address the Luo-Kikuyu antagonism (attributed to the duo’s fathers) that has characterised the country since independence; the Kikuyu revolt that befell him, when his co-ethnic political base voted overwhelmingly for his deputy against his preferred successor, Raila, was the result. And while he appeared to frustrate funds disbursement to county governments during his tenure, his BBI proposal to increase resources to the counties suggests that he finally fully appreciated the importance of empowering citizens at the grassroot level of society. His intimidation and harassment of civil society organisations demanding accountability from Kenyan leadership (in relation to the ICC cases and electoral processes), coupled with the extrajudicial killings that characterised his response to terror, considerably taint his human rights record. However, when considered in the context of the severity of terrorist attacks, such as the case of the Garissa University massacre, in which 142 students lost their lives, his conduct on terrorism seems understandable. Nonetheless, the ruthlessness with which security forces dealt with opposition protestors during the 2017 election cycle, in which the latter killed babies and children, irredeemably tarnishes his legacy.

Overall, besides his fervent quest to get Kenyans over the hump of negative ethnicity, some of the hallmark internal achievements of his tenure, of significance to the ordinary citizen, include the use of technology to make public services significantly more accessible, and the making of dialysis treatment more accessible and extremely affordable. Kenyatta will also be remembered for his initiatives geared towards the welfare of vulnerable societal groups, such as children, youths, and women, chief among which was Inua Jamii, a national safety net programme that his administration used to effect cash transfers to orphans and vulnerable children, the aged, the disabled, and a significant number of households living in arid and semi-arid areas. This was in addition to an assortment of affirmative action funds, such as the National Government Affirmative Action Fund, and the UWEZO Fund, through which he availed credit facilities to Kenyans to encourage entrepreneurship. Whereas it might not be possible to definitively tell whether, through these initiatives, he achieved more for the ordinary citizen than his predecessor, Kibaki, who introduced similar funds (the Youth Enterprise Development Fund [YEDF] and the Women Enterprise Fund [WEF]) and free primary education during his reign, one thing is for sure: in terms of road infrastructure expansion, he outdid the combined effort of all his predecessors, including the British colonialists. And with regard to electricity provision, his administration’s performance was the best in Africa. Concerning external affairs, under Uhuru Kenyatta, Kenya was extremely proactive in a diplomatic sense and went out of its way to fulfil its international obligations. Significantly, Kenya’s only official foreign policy document to date was crafted during his tenure. It showcased on paper, among other things, his desire for a united, prosperous Africa and the welfare of the continent’s peoples. Numerous global events that demonstrate and display Kenya’s leadership prowess, both continentally and globally, took place in the country during the Kenyatta era. Additionally, a significant number of international conventions were either negotiated, signed, or put into effect during his tenure.

Does Kenyatta’s relationship with international courts and foreign powers and decisions on multilateral trade affairs depict him as a pan-Africanist? From a political and international relations perspective, Kenyatta was astute; he ingeniously invoked anti-imperialist rhetoric and exploited the East–West global power rivalry to ensure his survival in a context of hostility from the international community informed by the ICC charges he faced. Although these traits epitomise the character of the nationalist or patriotic bourgeoisie outlined by wa Thiong’o, the concomitant consideration of the plight of the victims of Kenya’s 2007–08 post-election violence (who had no-one else to advocate on their behalf but the ICC) makes it extremely difficult to unreservedly label Kenyatta a pan-Africanist. As far as the ICC is concerned, he appears to project a negative form of pan-Africanism that features impunity, packaged as a quest to safeguard national sovereignty. Even though justification for Kenyatta’s insistence on non-interference in Kenya’s internal affairs can still be made, given “the failure of powerful states, including the United States, China, and Russia, to … [join] the [International Criminal] [C]ourt” (HRW, 2017, p. 11), for the most part, his endeavours to unite Africa against the ICC showcase an element of toxic solidarity: Pan-Africanism of the continent’s political elite class; an exclusivist, selfish form of the otherwise noble ideology that was pursued at the expense of the largely oppressed and brutalised masses seeking justice.

Whereas he had his nation’s interests to protect, Kenyatta’s decisions on multilateral trade affairs, epitomised by Kenya’s posture and actions vis-à-vis the 10th WTO Ministerial Conference of 2015, and the 2016 EU Economic Partnership Agreement, make him susceptible to accusations of being a subtle Western lackey. Indeed, enthusiasts of pan-Africanism may consider his administration’s actions on the foregoing matters to be remarkable blunders, of the ilk of the comprador bourgeoisie spoken of by Ngugi wa Thiong’o; this would make his legacy pale in comparison to other renowned African figures like Mandela, whose approach in multilateral trade affairs noticeably prioritised African interests. The same negative views could be held on Kenya’s FTA negotiations with the US at the expense of the EAC and AfCFTA. The findings of this paper also show that it is problematic to unequivocally qualify Kenyatta’s engagement with China at the expense of the West as an act of unimpeachable pan-Africanism. While, on the one hand, China’s apparent respect for Africa and its peoples and the tangible benefits accruing to the continent as a result of this relationship can be considered to be important building blocks in the quest to purge Africa of the effects of European racism and thus dignify it (wa Thiong’o’s pan-Africanism), on the other hand, it is possible to argue that African leaders are in fact Oriental lackeys for engaging with China, despite the negative aspects associated with this relationship. Indeed, as argued elsewhere, “African governments … risk forfeiting their sovereignty when accepting money from China as [they] could lose control of infrastructure and resources if projects went wrong” (Aglionby & Manson, 2018, abstract). Kenyatta’s overall legacy continues to unfold given his involvement in peacekeeping efforts in his retirement; nonetheless, the ambivalence that considerably characterises his persona at present makes him difficult to firmly place on either side of the “Pan-African—Western lackey” analytical spectrum. Ultimately, though, it is clear from this assessment of his presidency that African leaders will always face the risk of being considered lackeys—Western or Oriental—whichever development path they choose for their people. Accordingly, they should shun the fear of being labelled “sell-outs” and boldly select the partners and trajectories that offer optimal socioeconomic benefits for their people (without infringing African values, norms, traditions, and beliefs)—first on behalf of their nationals, who put them in office, and then for the continent, for, while pan-Africanism is a noble idea, national interests are equally important, and, sometimes, they objectively supersede regional and continental concerns.

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Albert Gordon Omulo

Albert Gordon Omulo is a Postdoctoral Fellow at the School of Social Sciences, University of the Witwatersrand, South Africa. His research interests include public policy, electoral violence, African history, political economy of ethnicity, politics of the African Great Lakes Region, human rights, international relations, and international humanitarian law.