Riots sparked by the shooting of a radical Muslim cleric and renewed ethnic clashes have shattered Kenya’s fragile stability. The unrest has resulted in over 100 deaths since late August. A government-imposed dusk-to-dawn curfew has failed to stem the violence, which some link to the upcoming elections in 2013.
Riots in the Kenyan port of Mombasa caught international attention in August. The death of the fiery, fundamentalist Islamic cleric Aboud Rogo Muhammad—gunned down on a main street in broad daylight—sparked outrage among the city’s young, impoverished Muslim population. Four people died in the two days of violence that ensued, leaving the centre of town a mess of burnt-out vehicles, looted shops and vandalised churches.
But the Mombasa riots were not the only riots in Kenya in August. They were not even the most serious. At least three other incidents, all involving fatalities, seem to indicate that civil unrest is becoming something of a habit in the run-up to next year’s presidential election.
In the Tana River district of eastern Kenya, simmering resentment between members of the Pokomo, a farming community, and the semi-nomadic Orma community, turned nasty. Very nasty. As Pokomo militiamen raided an Orma village on August 21st, slaughtering cattle and burning houses, they killed anyone who stood in their way. In total, 34 people were hacked to death while another 14 died in the fires. Of these, 11 were children and 34 were women. Reports suggest the fighting was motivated by a dispute over access to resources, particularly land and water.
In Mandera county, in north-eastern Kenya, at least 15 people died in a week of violence between rival nomadic clans, the Degodia and the Garreh. Historical tensions were allegedly reignited by a Garreh militia group, based in Ethiopia, which crossed the border and raided a Degodia village, making off with 500 head of cattle and killing six people in the process. The Degodia were swift to retaliate.
This violence spilled into the neighbouring counties of Wajir and Garissa. Reports contradict each other, but it appears that several people died in Wajir. In Garissa, a nervous county commissioner, Mohamed Maalim, told the “war-mongers” that the government would “crack down on inciters bent on causing chaos”.
Analysts have been quick to look for explanations for each incident. The Mombasa riots were a reaction against Kenya’s incursion into Somalia, or symptomatic of high tensions between Kenya’s Christian majority and Muslim minority. The Tana River raids were about resource scarcity and ethnic rivalry. The Mandera murders were typical clan violence.
These are all plausible theories, but they fail to explain the trend: why is communal violence seemingly on the rise in the country as a whole?
Looming over this debate, as it looms over everything in Kenyan political life right now, is the presidential election scheduled for March 2013. We all remember what happened the last time Kenyans voted for a new president: post-election violence, much of it along ethnic lines, killed approximately 1,500 people and left the country’s carefully-forged reputation for peace and stability in tatters. In that instance, the manifestation of the violence may have been ethnic, but its source was certainly political. This has been recognised by the International Criminal Court (ICC), which has charged three Kenyan politicians (and one radio host with zealous political affiliations) with indirect responsibility for crimes against humanity.
Sure enough, it was not long before a politician was implicated in some of August’s violence. MP Dhadho Godana, who is running for governor of Tana River county, was accused of orchestrating the violence between the Pokomo and the Orma. Describing himself as a “peace-loving fellow”, Godana furiously denied the charges against him. He did, however, support the idea that the violence was politically motivated: “Now being political times, some leaders are taking advantage of this situation to incite residents and drag the names of others in,” he said.
This was echoed in a strongly-worded comment from Abbas Gullet, secretary- general of the Kenyan Red Cross. He told Bloomberg that ethnic violence would only increase in the run-up to the election unless people with political agendas stopped instigating clashes. “It’s clear this election is being driven by ethnic politics, not policies or individual candidates, and it shouldn’t be supported.”
The real problem, however, might be grander even than political interference— which, at this stage, is unconfirmed. Besides, political violence can be prevalent only in countries where its proponents know they can get away with it.
“It is to be traced to the failure of the rule of law, or rather, the justice system,” wrote lawyer Gibson Kamau Kuria in the Nairobi Star, commenting on the recent spate of violence. He argues that since 1991, the architects of political violence have gone without prosecution or punishment, and that the police are unable or unwilling to discharge their duties.
An umbrella group of more than 30 civil society organisations approached the government in early September with exactly the same concern. “The violent reaction in Mombasa is a direct result of the pressure that has been building due to failure by [the] state apparatus to uphold the rule of law,” said Waikwa Wanyoike, a member of the Kenyans for Peace with Truth and Justice coalition. This assertion is hard to argue with: as Sheikh Rogo died, his widow angrily refused police assistance, telling officers: “I don’t need your help. You have killed my husband, now leave us alone.”
Regardless of the veracity of her emotional accusation, its plausibility was enough to spark the riots, indicating that Kenya’s forces responsible for enforcing law and order have, at the very least, a serious image problem. At worst, they are responsible for the “increase of forced disappearances and extra-judicial killings of Kenyans”, which the civil society coalition petitioned the government to investigate.
Either way, it is an indictment of the performance of Kenya’s government of national unity. In the four years since its formation, it has done little to nothing to address the root causes of the post-election violence, seriously risking another bout. This is hardly surprising—after all, the same politicians in government now were those fighting over the results of the last election.
The question now is how to prevent such an eventuality. Even with the best will in the world, Kenya cannot repair its dysfunctional police and judiciary to restore the rule of law in a matter of months. The country will have to hope that the threat of ICC prosecution—the international rule of law—is enough to keep its top politicians in line, while the extensive international monitoring planned for the election period will decrease the opportunities for violence.
