The Misadventure Of The Kenyan Intellectual

Kenya’s political stalemate, accompanied by the loss of life and displacement of thousands of people, has left her intellectuals in a state of moral ambiguity that roughly mirrors the fate of the native intellectual in Frantz Fanon's book The Wretched of the Earth. *

 

In his book that “postcolonial” studies have now rendered a bestseller in American academic circles, Fanon pointed to the lack of global vision among the native bourgeoisie. Having been educated in Western schools, the intellectuals find themselves unable to completely divorce themselves from the Western principles such as “democracy” and non-violence. Consequently, when faced with the reality of the war between the natives and the settlers, the intellectuals attempt to forge a middle ground, namely “the universal abstract…that the settler and the native may live together in peace in a new world” (45).

 

 

Fanon points out that this abstract principle is ineffective because the polarity of the colonial situation defies attempts at neutrality, and instead exposes the hopeful intellectual as one who “over-stresses details and thereby forgets that the defeat of colonialism is the real object of the struggle” (50). The intellectual unwillingly, not deliberately, becomes irrelevant to the global struggle because “he fails to see the whole of the movement all the time” and “is occupied in action on a particular front.”

 

 

A similar dilemma is faced by Kenyan journalists, university professors, bloggers, NGO leaders, activists and “political analysts” – the pet peeve of Kenyan journalist Clay Muganda – who analyze and respond to the current crisis in Kenya. Like the colonial situation, they find themselves caught within a stalemate between Odinga’s ODM and Kibaki’s PNU, one which does not allow neutrality.  We fail to realize that when we unilaterally adopt the parameters of the debate that have been set by politicians, we are necessarily polarized despite our best efforts to remain non-partisan.  

 

 

Those who crunch electoral numbers and lament the failure of last year’s elections to meet democratic standards find themselves forced to defend, if not endorse, Odinga’s claim to presidency and to ignore or downplay the reality of gang violence and ethnic cleansing in ODM strongholds. Meanwhile, those who sincerely want the loss of life and displacement of quarter a million of Kenyans to take precedence find themselves in the uncomfortable position of seeming to legitimize Kibaki’s victory. Moreover, the revenge attacks in Nakuru and Central Province have dealt a severe blow to the moral high ground that they initially took. 

 

 

This vicious circle becomes evident when the word “peace” is evoked. One side proclaims that “there can be no peace without justice” and the other suggests that justice is impossible when there is no peace.  Meanwhile, both sides evade the issue that peace and justice cannot be separated from each other.  

The basic argument of the “no peace without justice” side is that the election and swearing in of Mwai Kibaki as president fail to meet the standard requirements of democracy, which are a free and fair election and the swearing in of the candidate with the most votes. The fallacy inherent in this argument lies in two areas. 

 

 

The first fallacy is in the sanctification of democracy through its equation with justice. Contrary to our idealism, democracy has never been synonymous with justice. In Ancient Greece, from where the word originated, women and slaves were excluded from it. In the United States, Native Americans did not feature in the radar of the founding fathers, while the politicians reached a compromise in which slave populations would count as three-fifths of the vote so as to avoid a situation in which Southern slave-holding states overwhelmed the Northern ones. But even the three-fifths votes was only on paper. In reality, black Americans remained excluded from the vote until the civil rights movement of the 1960’s. And even after that victory, their welfare remains of little concern to mainstream America, which America attempts to camouflage by making appointments of a black Supreme Court justice, army chiefs and secretaries of State.

 

 

In France, suffrage for the majority remained an illusion even decades after the 1789 revolution. For a long time, political voting was conducted on the same principles as a shareholders' meeting in which preference was given to the propertied classes. Voting remained out of reach for women until the rather recent year of 1945. 

 

 

The pitfalls of democracy turn out to be particularly tragic when one considers the calls to emulate the American model and its affirmative action policy. In such debates, the issue of racism is brushed aside and the historical event of slavery is rarely mentioned. Even more tragic is the fact that most of the Kenyans who live or have lived in the United States are members of the elite who have attained higher levels of education than the majority of African Americans. Many are silent about the fact that they are able to occupy certain positions in the US because of the protracted and costly struggles of African Americans, leading to current scenario captured by recent statistics which show that only around 40% of listed black students in Ivy League schools are descendants of Africans enslaved in America. It would be interesting to hear how Kenyan elites who complain of ethnic favoritism of others in their home country would respond to the same sentiments about themselves sometimes expressed by black Americans. 

 

 

The Rwandan genocide is the ultimate proof that democracy in its purest form is a farce, because the genocide ironically fulfilled the requirements of democracy expected by the Western world that cynically predicts that Africans can never meet them. The Hutu extremists and their French sympathizers initially justified the massacres as the will of the majority incensed by the death of their president, while journalists who espoused extremist ideologies on the airwaves sang about freedom of expression all the way to the International Tribunal.

 

In the face of slavery, colonialism and the genocide, democracy has revealed itself inferior to morality, human decency and the cultural integrity of Africans worldwide. But more than that, the willingness of its African defenders to ignore the suffering of Africans in our country and elsewhere in the world, raises questions about our attitudes towards ourselves. If we can so easily dismiss the loss and degradation of African lives on such a grand scale, then there is a profound schism, if not self-hatred, embedded in our psyche.

 

The second fallacy of the “no peace without justice” argument is the failure to recognize that Kenya today is not the same as it was when the elections were held or when the results were announced. In the space of a few weeks, a lot of blood flowed under the bridge, and so a simple repeat or declaration of Odinga as president, without changing the rules of the electoral process, will sanctify the evictions and killings of those who perceived to have voted for the wrong candidate. The advocates for a recount or repeat election are mute on the question of whether hundreds of thousands of displaced Kenyans will be able to acquire identity and voters cards or return to the areas where they originally voted, or on the implications of endorsing murder and looting as tools for carving an ideal voting populace.  Kenyan intellectuals must guard against going down in history as having taking such an immoral and criminal stand in the name of democracy and the impossible ideal of objectivity.

 

 

Meanwhile, those who insist on focusing on the massacres and violence are unable to brush away the question of ethnic favoritism that is associated with the Kikuyu. While there is a lot of bad faith, selective memory and outright lies inherent in these sentiments, intellectuals need to accept that these sentiments are real, with credible proof and deadly political implications. Consequently, all the lies and truths about them must be patiently and adequately addressed through facts and figures and with sobriety, rather than with the propaganda or self-interest that motivates the political class.    

 

That the wars in different parts of the country have nothing to do with elections is not in doubt. Even the communities evicting ethnic groups from their areas admit that their issue is what they perceive as the invasion of their land by “foreigners.”

 

Although highly emotive, the issue is serious and demands careful consideration from the communities concerned with limited interference from politicians. For instance, it is perplexing that areas next to predominantly Kalenjin populations bore Kikuyu names, and that the Kikuyu communities involved were apparently oblivious of the resentment that such a phenomenon might cause. On the other hand, it defies reason that the Kalenjin elders thought that the best way to articulate their discontent was to endorse the looting of their neighbors’ property and killing of their neighbors. As an ardent defender of African traditions and the capacity of elders’ councils to adequately redress social problems, I don’t understand why the Kalenjin elders and their Kikuyu peers did not tackle the problem amicably, under the proverbial tree as young women served traditional beer and young men slaughtered some animals. On the other hand, I strongly suspect that such an amicable solution is not desired by politicians whose power depends on fragmented, angry and polarized voters.

 

The possible hypocrisy of politicians who poison the political atmosphere against fruitful resolutions of conflict suggests that intellectuals who insist on redressing the flawed elections or on pointing fingers at ODM leaders may be out of synch with the reality on the ground. The violence preceding and following the elections emanates from a profound cultural problem which can be solved by communities gathering under trees, in churches and in bars to honestly address the cultural misunderstandings that we confront every day. The politicians who are inciting us to violence have the option to fight their battles with words, be it through the press, Parliament or international mediation, and yet they deny us that option by issuing inflammatory speeches and arming young men.

 

With the self-interest that motivates politicians, it is a pity that some Kenyan intellectuals have adopted the positions of political parties. Many reasons may explain this situation, but I suspect that we are nostalgic for the philosopher-kings of the 1960’s who were part of the national struggles for independence from colonial rule. We hope that the politicians shouting about democracy or about the rule of law are a reincarnation of the Nyereres, Nkrumahs and even Martin Luther Kings. But contrary to our idealism, Kenyan politicians, like their counterparts worldwide, camouflage self-interest and ambition in the rhetoric of principles. Unfortunately, we academics succumb to their charm because we, understandably, would like to affirmation that the ideas we've spent years studying and developing may have a positive impact on our societies. Moreover, many of us have social links to politicians who were once our classmates or our colleagues at the university.

 

Despite our kind feelings towards the politicians as human beings and our trust in their goodwill, politics has, by its very nature, the capacity to turn holiest of saints into the worst of sinners, a truth that even Jesus knew when he restricted his kingship to the spiritual realm. Politicians’ sole interest is in power, and when they are most generous, that interest extends to the numbers of voters. The ethnicity, welfare and future of the citizens are of secondary interest as long as the politicians’ names are alongside the largest number of votes on the infamous Form 16A that is returned to the Electoral Commission of Kenya.

 

By choosing the political sides, intellectuals overlook the reality that the current crisis stems from a profoundly flawed constitution that gives excessive presidential powers. Worse, Kenyan politicians, regardless of their political party, have not addressed the need for a new constitution that does not allow one to become president simply by virtue of numbers, and that forces the winner of elections to appoint at least a half of his or her cabinet from parties other than his or her own, regardless of whether the president's party carries a parliamentary majority or not. The dispute between PNU and ODM is who should benefit from the unfair and draconian presidency as it stands right now, not whether the institution is fair. And since this injustice remains quite appetizing to the majority of politicians, our political leaders will only be interested in a fair constitution if we Kenyans force them to, and that is why we Kenyans must make demands of them rather than trust their almost non-existent goodwill to do the right thing for the country.

 

Any political deal mediated by Kofi Anan without an accompanying modification of legal and social structures will simply postpone the crisis for another bloody round in the next five years. The reason we are in the fatal quagmire today is because both Kibaki and Raila signed secretive deals without consulting Kenyans and then dragged citizens into their bedroom squabbles about who din't do what. The lethal nature of this situation was evident in campaign ad of ODM a few days before elections. In a full page comic strip in the dailies, we were shown a story of a wedding between a couple, after which the man (PNU) broke the vows and left the woman (ODM) standing at the altar. The problem with this analogy is simple: unlike weddings which take place in public, in which people are asked to voice objections before the marriage is pronounced, before which wedding banns are announced weeks in advance, the Memorandum of Understanding (MoU) was signed in secret. No delegation of relatives was sent to the homes of the couple, no women sang songs or ululations, and no men shook hands or sipped traditional brews to seal the deal. Nevertheless, Kenyans are now killing each other over a marriage that they did not even know had taken place.

 

The political stagnation caused by a political system that appeals to our most selfish instincts is the primary source of the current conflict. It is a system that has led intellectuals, professionals and ordinary citizens to abandon basic morality, decency, respect for women and children as well as their vision for the future, and instead support the race towards the largest proportion of an illusional “national cake.”The frustration with uprooting this insanity and moral bankruptcy from its origin among the political elite leads the Kenyan Wretched of the Earth to kill their neighbors who are within their reach, and these Wretched of the Earth are already banging at the doors of the bourgeoisie.   

 

Fanon’s framework makes it evident that Kenyans need a political class that patiently and humbly explains to them what resources the country has, what the priorities for investing those resources are and how the resources have been spent. Leaders need to speak candidly with citizens and address issues intelligently, as opposed to the current situation in which they tend to talk down at the Kenyan populace. It is patronizing for leaders to flaunt great principles in front of the press, while trivializing serious political issues once they hit the campaign trail. The intelligence of Kenyans was insulted during campaigns in which politicians landed in helicopters that blew dust in the eyes of the prospective voters. They patronized us by cracking jokes and singing songs while their wives lamented that State House is difficult to manage or asked to be shown the location of the kitchen in what the Kenyan press gave the bizarre appellation “the house on the hill.” It is a pity that our leaders and thinkers used word games and riddles that downplayed and trivialized important national issues. Politics is not entertainment or child's play; it is serious business.

 

Similarly, dishing out free education and free housing, as both political parties promised, is no antidote for creating an enabling environment for Kenyans to be creative, industrious and to earn their living comfortably. It is presumptuous, if not patronizing and arrogant, to expect Kenyans to receive free education with gratitude that muffles their questions about the government’s commitment to economic, moral and political justice. We need to create and encourage opportunities that allow Kenyans to earn enough money to decide how they want to spend it. If Kenyan politicians continue to treat voters like children who can be tempted with sweets, we shall follow the same sorry route of the British Labor government that has turned its country into a nanny state.

 

 

Consequently, the task of the intellectual, at least according to Fanon, is to explain the local, national and international context of the issues that Kenyans face so that they can see the whole picture all the time. Everything, from local politics to foreign policy, can and should be discussed by all Kenyans and in all languages. As Fanon clarifies, political education means “to teach the masses that everything depends on them; that if we stagnate it is their responsibility, and that if we go forward it is due to them too, that there is no such thing as a demiurge, that there is no famous man who will take responsibility for everything…(197).”

 

The attempt of democracy advocates to rally the country and the international community around the question of democracy or human rights is a path headed for a cliff while the majority of Kenya moves on in the bloody struggle for dignity and justice. It reveals African disciples of democracy or those voicing quaint concerns for the poor as those who are convinced that the majority shares their beliefs or must be compelled to do so through education or propaganda. Meanwhile, activists shout about democracy in a drama that seems to be aimed at donors desperate to retain the West's rapidly shrinking moral and cultural authority. In reality, both academics and activists resemble the native intellectual who, as Fanon asserts, “accepted the cogency of these [Western] ideas, and deep down in his brain you find a vigilant sentinel ready to defend the Greco-Latin pedestal” (46).

 

Ideas such as “democracy” and “human rights” have failed to work miracles in Africa because they emerged from histories and realities that were not ours. Moreover, the scars of millions of Africans who landed in the Americas in slave ships, rather than airplanes, should be morally binding enough for us to desist from seeing Western ideas as automatic antidotes to our social problems. As Fanon argued in his oft-ignored conclusion to his last book, it would be fatal to imitate Europe and its diaspora in the United States that have proved incapable of tackling the fundamental question of justice despite their technological achievements.

 

Kenya is in desperate need for new ideas that take into account her realities, histories and aspirations. Our histories, languages and arts are rich with resources for intellectual pursuit and a restoration of our sanity and dignity as Africans. They are even replete with significant achievements in science and technology, a factor which scholars such as Cheikh Anta Diop and Ivan van Sertima have revealed in their prolific studies. I am still amazed that I was not exposed to these intellectual riches as a student in Kenya, and I am yet to find out to what extent this situation has improved.

 

 

We should also consider abandoning the ideal that Western intellectuals have held since the Enlightenment, which is that the role of the intellectual is to be a social engineer. We have seen the deadly results of this worldview in Russia under Stalin and in Cambodia under French-educated Pol Pot, in Iraq and South East Asia under the US regimes which had PhD holders as Secretaries of State, namely Condeleeza Rice and Henry Kissinger. We have seen the complicity of French intellectuals who affirmed their country's murderous initiatives in Algeria and Black Africa on the grounds that their country was duty bound to spread human rights to "uncivilized" societies. History illustrates that academic study and politics makes lethal bedfellows of extraordinary proportions, and we African intellectuals should be wary falling into the same trap.

 

 

We should exercise our profession as best we can so as to create a reservoir of ideas which our people can tap from, and we cannot do this when so many of our colleagues are aspiring for political office or seeking affirmation from Western donors. We cannot perform the prophetic role of griots and other traditional seers, artists and prophets if we do not jealously guard against allowing politicians to dictate our intellectual agenda at the expense of the African majority or worse, at the expense of the truth. It is no coincidence that the griot did not hail from the royalty or that the priests in the Old Testament did not become kings, and this is a moral lesson that deserves attention from African scholars.

 

This does not mean that we avoid addressing political issues, but that we address political issues from an academic perspective of our various displines rather than clothe political positions in academic language or attack each other for doing so. The subtle difference between the two has been brilliantly addressed by Prof. Lewis Gordon in his recent book Displinary Decadence: Living Thought In Trying Times.

 

Rather than scrutinize each other for their political sympathies, which are impossible to camouflage in any case, Kenyan intellectuals should heed the advice Fanon gave native intellectuals, which is to dedicate our training and resources to the fight already taking place in which the majority of people are engaged. This is the fight for Kenyans to gain more respect as intelligent human beings who should have greater control of their material and moral resources. Intellectuals should join the citizens in commanding the MP’s, not pleading with them, to construct and implement structures that will ensure that justice is served for all Kenyans of all ethnic groups and of all political persuasions.

 

 

Politicians must be compelled to join the rest of Kenya in pursuing a vision of a country that provides protection for the vulnerable, opportunities for the energetic and talented, inspiration for the creative, respect for the elderly and wise, as well as a legacy for Africa’s children of all nationalities and ethnic origins, whether they be in Kenya, Africa or the rest of the world. As Malcolm X said, our vision should be so great that it should include every African anywhere in the world, and ultimately become a shining light for the rest of the world.

 

*All citations are taken from The Wretched of the Earth, trans. C. Farrington (New York: Grove, 1963).