Kenya may not be a democracy yet but the future looks bright

What you need to know:

  • On the one hand, the defeat of Kanu in 2002 and the introduction of the 2010 Constitution demonstrate the country has come a long way since the days of the one-party state.

  • On the other hand, the poor quality of the 2007 and 2013 elections, combined with continued media censorship, make a case for putting Kenya in the “authoritarian” category.

  • What sets Kenya apart from many of its neighbours is that opposition and civil society activists have a greater number of platforms through which to campaign, and presidents have already accepted that they can not rule forever.

The questions I get asked most often by students, policymakers and political leaders when I come to Kenya are: “Can democracy work?” and “Is the country becoming more democratic?” As we head towards the General Election, I have been reflecting on my answer.

It is possible to make an argument either way. On the one hand, the defeat of Kanu in 2002 and the introduction of the 2010 Constitution demonstrate the country has come a long way since the days of the one-party state. On the other hand, the poor quality of the 2007 and 2013 elections, combined with continued media censorship, make a case for putting Kenya in the “authoritarian” category.

How can we work out which set of evidence is the most reliable guide as to the state of democracy in Kenya?

One way is to look beyond specific incidents of political controversy to think about whether key democratic institutions such as term limits and the Legislature are starting to work as intended. This tells us much more about whether democratic procedures are starting to become entrenched, and hence how contemporary struggles for power are likely to play out.

When we approach the issue in this way it becomes clear that some key democratic institutions are beginning to function well in Kenya – but this does not mean that they all are, or that the process of democratic consolidation will run smooth.

WHY INSTITUTIONS?

Measuring democratic progress by civil liberties or the quality of the last election is problematic, because sometimes it is evidence of the weakness of an authoritarian regime, rather than its strength. The use of greater repression in Burundi and the Democratic Republic of Congo, for example, does not signal that governments in these countries have become stronger. Rather, it is evidence that they were unable to get their way playing by democratic rules, and so had to resort to more authoritarian strategies to consolidate their hold on power.

In other words, spikes in repression are not always proof that democracy cannot work in Africa—instead, they are often a sign democracy has started to work more effectively than authoritarian governments are willing to allow. So what is a better way of measuring the performance of democracy on the continent, and the prospects for the future?

Democracy is both a way of deciding who holds political power and a process through which power is exercised. While the amount of power given to the government varies across countries, a critical element of any democratic system is that the actions of the ruling party are constrained by checks and balances. Although these constraints are usually laid down in the constitution, they are enforced through a set of key democratic institutions including the Judiciary, the Legislature, and the electoral system.

Historically, many people have argued the “problem” with African politics is leaders have too much power and institutions are weak and vacuous. A good measure of democratic consolidation in Africa, and of how much things have changed, is therefore the extent to which leaders have to play by the rules of the game.

THE RULES OF THE GAME

Democracies are governed by many different sets of regulations, but two of the most important are presidential term limits and the need to hold free and fair elections. Because these rules have the capacity to remove presidents and governments from power, they represent a litmus test of the strength of democratic institutions and the commitment of political leaders to democratic principles.

So how are these institutions faring in Kenya? Let us start by looking at elections. There can be no doubt that the management and performance of elections is better than it was in the 1990s. First, the period before the polls is now more peaceful than it was under President Daniel arap Moi, when the campaigns were marked with clashes and many hundreds of deaths in the Rift Valley. Second, the budget and physical capacity of the Independent and Boundaries Electoral Commission, though not ideal, is far greater than that of the Electoral Commission of Kenya 15 years ago.

This has not, however, always translated into better quality polls. Instead, the electoral process collapsed in 2007, triggering widespread ethnic clashes. The process in 2013 was not as bad, but that is not saying much, and the comprehensive failure of election technology on the day led to accusations of vote rigging.

Significantly, the legacy of poor quality elections in 2007 and 2013 lives on. Today, opposition supporters have less confidence in the IEBC than those who back the Jubilee Party, and are less likely to believe that it is possible to change the government through the ballot box. This is dangerous, because it means that mistakes, even innocent ones, will be interpreted to be malicious, whether they are or not.

In this respect, Kenya reflects a broader continental trend. According to the National Elections Across Democracy and Autocracy dataset, on a 1-10 scale in which 10 is the best score possible, African elections average just over 5. As a result, opposition parties have to compete for power with one hand tied behind their back, which helps to explain why African presidents win 88 per cent of the elections that they contest.

It is for this reason I rarely advise people to bet on an opposition party winning an election—even when they are ahead in the polls.

SHOULD I STAY OR SHOULD I GO?

The picture looks significantly better when it comes to presidential term limits. Here, Kenyan democracy looks impressive. In a number of nearby states such as Burundi, Rwanda and Uganda, authoritarian leaders overturned term limits when they came close to reaching them, extending their stay in power indefinitely.

The situation in Kenya has been different. Even though it is a country known for “Big Man” rule, neither President Moi nor President Mwai Kibaki launched a public campaign to remain in office. Instead, both stood down, paving the way for a change of leadership. All of the evidence suggests President Uhuru Kenyatta plans to do the same if he wins the election on August 8 and gets a second term in office.

Again, the Kenyan experience is representative of a broader trend on the continent. To date, African presidents have come up against term limits 38 times. In only 18 cases have presidents sought to ignore and amend the constitution, and in only 12 cases were they successful. Put another way, of the 42 countries that feature term limits, so far they have only been overturned in 13. This represents a remarkable turnaround: In a continent known for all-powerful leaders who can operate without constraints, term limits are more likely to be respected than broken.

If the evidence is mixed when we look at elections and positive when we look at term limits, what do other aspects of the political system have to tell us about the prospects for democratic consolidation in Kenya?

Although corruption remains a major problem and the legislature has consistently failed to live up to expectations and scrutinise government policies, there are a number of signs of progress.

Most notably, the 2010 Constitution is one of the best in Africa, and has given rise to a vibrant system of devolution in which opposition figures have been able to take power in important counties such as Nairobi and Mombasa.

There are also positive signs in other areas. The Kenyan media, while held on a tight leash by the ruling party, is far more free and critical than it was under President Moi. So while it is outrageous that some journalists have reportedly lost their jobs for criticising President Kenyatta, it is also important to keep in mind how far the media landscape has changed.

The extent of the transformation of the space for debate is particularly clear if we turn our attention to social media. In stark contrast to the censorship of the Internet that takes place in Gabon, and the tendency for governments in places like Uganda to shut down social media around elections, Kenya’s tweeters have yet to be effectively muzzled.

PROSPECTS FOR THE FUTURE

When viewed in this way, the prospects for democracy seem stronger in Kenya than many other African countries. Of course, this does not mean that Kenya is a democracy right now, or that its elections are free and fair.

Serious questions remain about the neutrality of the Judiciary and the security forces, and the government enjoys many advantages of incumbency. As a result, elections are not contested on a level playing field. Given this, the 2017 polls are likely to be controversial and we may well see the opposition reject the results once again.

Further strengthening and deepening the quality of Kenyan democracy will take time, and is likely to require further struggle. High quality elections threaten to undermine the government’s grip on power, and so tend to be the last thing that incumbent leaders commit to.

But what sets Kenya apart from many of its neighbours is that opposition and civil society activists have a greater number of platforms through which to campaign, and presidents have already accepted that they cannot rule forever.

Nic Cheeseman is professor of democracy at the University of Birmingham in the United Kingdom.

Twitter: @fromagehomme