Saturday, June 8
2013
In Summary
- Take the case of hotelier Joseph ole Lenku who’s been nominated for the powerful Interior docket. This post is located in the Office of the President, and handles all critical security matters. But Mr Lenku knows zilch about security.
Every action has a counter-action. The
“boomerang” – or counter-reaction – may be unintended. Remember this
phrase – “choices have consequences”.
This is particularly true in the rationale behind a
Cabinet of so-called “technocrats”. What’s my point? The idea may have
been great, but it’s impracticable in Kenya today.
Our constitutional design is too advanced for
Kenya’s fledgling political culture. Many of the Cabinet secretaries are
simply not technocrats.
And those who are technocrats are ensconced in
completely the wrong dockets. Which begs the question – was the mismatch
deliberate, or the ugly child of unintended consequences? Methinks it’s
both.
The Constitution borrowed the idea of severing the
Cabinet from the Legislature from the United States. But the
“constitutional heist” may have been ahead of its time. Unlike Kenya,
the US Cabinet isn’t the locus where “tribes” bargain for the national
cake.
Sure, the American Cabinet should “look like
America,” but it doesn’t share out America’s goodies. That’s done
through the budgeting process where the Executive must bargain – and
compromise – with Congress. In Kenya, the Cabinet was traditionally the
“national tribal council of elders”. This is where every tribe –
especially tribal elites – pigged at the trough.
You got nothing if “your own” wasn’t in Cabinet.
That’s why the Cabinet was a tool of national stability. But that’s
changed – for now.
Unlike previous ministers, today’s Cabinet
Secretaries are unelected and have no political power to steer pork to
their “tribes”. Let’s look at a few.
Foreign Secretary Raychelle Omamo has been thrown
into the deep end of the pool. It’s a docket in which she can’t swim,
and is out of her depth.
I hope she doesn’t drown. That’s because she knows
absolutely nothing about defence, weapons systems, or military
strategy. I doubt she can tell a brigade from a battalion, or a general
from a colonel. She may know much less about military culture,
traditions, and protocol.
How is she supposed to superintend over a military-industrial complex in which she’s a complete “alien”? What’s up here?
Methinks President Uhuru Kenyatta and Deputy
President William Ruto couldn’t agree on a “substantive” appointment in
defence. Neither would let the other commandeer this powerful portfolio.
So the compromise was to give it to a person who’s
completely unqualified, and from a community – the Luo – in which she
has absolutely no political base.
That way she couldn’t rally the Luo behind her, or use her post to bargain for largesse for the community.
Her appointment – and power – is completely
dependent on what Mr Kenyatta, or Mr Ruto, delegate to her. She’s
nothing but a figurehead, a complete token. The “Luo” get the Defence
post, but it’s not worth a measly cent. This is repeated in other
Cabinet posts.
Take the case of hotelier Joseph ole Lenku who’s
been nominated for the powerful Interior docket. This post is located in
the Office of the President, and handles all critical security matters.
But Mr Lenku knows zilch about security.
But he got the position because the Maasai
complained that they were “left out” of the Cabinet in spite of
supporting Jubilee. Once again, Mr Kenyatta gave “ethnic diversity” a
nod, but put a complete novice in charge of security.
Which means that Mr Kenyatta, or his trusted
aides, will actually run the docket, not Mr Lenku. He may be a
technocrat, but he’s completely a fish out of water in this docket.
This pattern is repeated in many dockets. For example, banker
James Wainaina Macharia landed in Health; a portfolio he couldn’t tell
you an intelligent thing about. Then two “political orphans” – seasoned
politicians Charity Ngilu and Najib Balala – were given a lifeline by Mr
Kenyatta and Mr Ruto. Both lost their senatorial contests.
Mr Balala got the Mining docket while Mrs Ngilu
was “gifted” the Lands docket. Neither knows much about their docket.
But they were rewarded – in spite of Mr Kenyatta’s vow to keep
politicians out of the Cabinet – for sticking with Jubilee in Cord
strongholds.
There’s no doubt they will be completely
subservient to Mr Kenyatta and Mr Ruto to whom they owe their posts.
That’s because they were rejected by “their people”.
The Cabinet has been cut to size by the
Constitution. Much of its power has been given to county governments in
the devolution structure, and to MPs and Senators.
The “tribal bargaining” for resources won’t take
place within the Cabinet, but at the county level. In the new
dispensation, Cabinet Secretaries are nothing but “glorified senior
aides” to Mr Kenyatta and Mr Ruto.
Their work will be to run “errands” for Mr
Kenyatta and Mr Ruto. This may not be a bad thing especially if
devolution truly works. Perhaps it will reduce the influence of the “Big
Five” ethnic groups in resource distribution. But this won’t happen if
the Legislature and counties wag their tails in front of State House.
I don’t mourn the death of the old “political
Cabinet”. No sir. But let’s not lie to ourselves that the new Cabinet is
one of technocrats. It actually isn’t. It’s largely a hodgepodge of
misplaced professionals and political retreads. It’s a neutered version
of its previous iteration.
The new Cabinet lacks the political muscle to
“talk back” to the “king”. I suspect that the real power will lie with
Principal Secretaries. It remains to be seen what culture of governance
will emerge out of this curious political beast. Will the “king” become
stronger?
Makau Mutua is Dean and SUNY Distinguished Professor at SUNY Buffalo Law School and Chair of the KHRC. Twitter @makaumutua.
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