Jan 3rd 2008 | NAIROBI
From The Economist print edition
After a stolen election, ethnic cleansing and even the threat of civil war...
The decision to return Kenya 's 76-year-old incumbent president, Mwai Kibaki, to office was not made by the Kenyan people but by a small group of hardline leaders from Mr Kibaki's Kikuyu tribe. They made up their minds before the result was announced, perhaps even before the opposition candidate, Raila Odinga, had opened up a lead in early returns from the December 27th election. It was a civil coup.
The planning was meticulous. All that was needed were the extra votes to squeak past Mr Odinga in what had been among the most closely contested elections Africa had ever seen. That was why returns from Central Province , Mr Kibaki's fiercely loyal Kikuyu heartland, were inexplicably held back. It was why, in some constituencies, a large number of voters seemed mysteriously to vote only in the presidential race and ignore the parliamentary ballot—despite waiting hours in the blazing sun. But the real damage was done in Nairobi, by simply crossing out the number of votes as announced in the constituency and scribbling in a higher number. Election monitors were turned away while the tallying went on. Monitors from the European Union saw tens of thousands of votes pinched in this way.
Mr Odinga's supporters were not innocent either. There were irregularities in his home province of Nyanza . Still, it was the meddling in Central Province that was decisive. Officially, Mr Kibaki won 4.58m votes to Mr Odinga's 4.35m. A third candidate, Kalonzo Musyoka, won 880,000 votes. Unofficially, Mr Odinga may have won, albeit by a similarly narrow margin.
The tragedy for Kenya, and what threatens to rip the nation apart, is that no one will know for sure. The EU's preliminary report on the election was scathing. Although the parliamentary election had gone off well, the European observers said the presidential one had fallen short of “international standards”.
The role of the electoral commission was particularly dodgy. On the afternoon of December 30th its head, Samuel Kivuitu, declared Mr Kibaki president. The news went out only on KBC, the state broadcaster. Other camera crews were led out of the building. The security forces sealed off the city centre against the angry poor, most of whom had voted for Mr Odinga. A few minutes later, in the twilight, Mr Kibaki was sworn in as president at the State House. In contrast to Mr Kibaki's first term, when the inauguration took place in a stadium heaving with jubilant supporters, there were no dignitaries or diplomats, just a few dozen loyalists and civil servants. Some questioned whether in fact the whole event had been staged earlier and pre-recorded.
The reaction to the swearing-in was immediate. Nairobi 's slums exploded in rage. The poor killed each other. Across the country came a swelling up of tribal violence, sometimes Kikuyu against Mr Odinga's Luo tribe, more often Luo and other tribes against Kikuyu. Hundreds have been killed so far and 80,000 displaced. Gang rapes and mutilations are widespread. Police have orders to shoot to kill. There has been looting in Kisumu, riots in Mombasa and pitched battles in Eldoret. Kikuyu hiding in a church near Eldoret were burned alive by a mob.
Taken together, this amounts to a pulling apart of Kenya 's rich national fabric. Some 97% of Kikuyu voted for Mr Kibaki. Everywhere else he was trounced. Muslims, for instance, voted against Mr Kibaki by 70% or more. The Kikuyu highlands encircling the glaciers of Mount Kenya increasingly feel like a state within a state. The division is even more troubling when the parliamentary vote is taken into account. Mr Kibaki lost half his cabinet, including his vice-president, as well as a large number of seemingly unassailable members of parliament. This government may find it impossible to pass a budget.
The hardliners' instincts will be to use the security services to reverse the freedoms of Mr Kibaki's first term—anything to avoid power slipping into Mr Odinga's hands. But Kenyans may not stand for this.
The government pressured the country's mobile-phone operators to suspend text messages for “security reasons”, without success. The army's strong apolitical tradition, with staff officers drawn from several tribes, looks to be holding.
Mr Odinga is demanding Mr Kibaki's resignation. He is calling for a campaign of civil action, peaceable, but determined. On January 3rd thousands of opposition supporters tried to converge on the centre of Nairobi for a protest rally but were dispersed by the police. Later the same day Mr Kibaki said, for the first time, that he was willing to talk to the opposition
“once the nation is calm”.The expectations of the Luo and other tribes who consider themselves marginalised will have to be addressed, and soon. With 38m people, half of them under 20, Kenya 's economy has to create several hundred thousand jobs this year just to stand still. But investment will be hit by the violence, as will vital tourism revenues.
The EU had at first been reluctant to send observers, arguing that resources for Africa were slim and Kenya was “too stable”. During the orderly voting, the mission did indeed look like an extravagance. A week later the country was teetering on the brink of civil war. A chastened Mr Kivuitu now says he is not sure Mr Kibaki won the election. The Americans and the British have been twisting arms, as has the African Union's head, John Kufuor. Well-connected Kikuyu business leaders are trying to persuade Mr Kibaki to give in and form a government of national unity. In the meantime, Kenya burns.
Comments