Deconstructing “Servant Leadership” in Kenya

In a world that reveres presentation and eschews content; in a world where marketing is king (or queen) and real quality takes the backseat; in a world where form trumps substance and nothing is more than skin-deep, it is mighty easy to completely miss true meanings.

Take the characterization "servant leadership."  This is the preferred self-description of Kenya's vice-president Kalonzo Musyoka.  But who is he a servant of?  To whom is he offering leadership?  He would argue that he is serving Kenyans and offering his leadership to Kenya; or vice versa.  But is “Kenya” monolithic?  Who is a “Kenyan”?

There are at least two Kenyas: there is a Kenya that is an oasis for the powerful and a desert for the powerless; a bountiful playground for the haves and a vast, arid wasteland for the have-nots; a country that has a few owners (the wenyenchi) and many tenants or subjects (the wananchi).  This is why, while a few will crow “Najivunia kuwa Mkenya” (I’m proud to be Kenyan), a quiet majority will respond “Navumilia kuwa Mkenya” (I persevere as a Kenyan).

In the Kenya of the powerful, Aaron Ringera is the head of the Kenya Anti-Corruption Commission and must be retained at all costs, including through an illegal “re-appointment” despite a zero track record in dealing with grand corruption.  In the Kenya of the powerful, John Githongo’s relentless search into the Augean stable of Kenyan corruption—which would have cost quite a number of high-profile jobs—must be stopped at all costs.  So what does the record show of the servant leader?  Support for Ringera or Githongo?

In the Kenya of the powerless, the police invariably shoot to kill innocent youth rather than arrest and take them before proper judicial authorities.  In the Kenya of the powerless, armed gangs can murder, maim, and pillage without any action being taken against them.  In the land of the powerless, internally displaced people can be chased from their camps, be forced into transit ones, and remain there at the mercy of the elements because they fear for their safety and security should they return to their homes.  Where is the voice of the servant leader (except for that memorable photo taking tea in the Mawingu Camp)?

In the Kenya of the powerful, ethnicity is turned into tribalism in a cynical ploy to win or maintain power.  Those with the means call for unity within their tribes to ostensibly ensure that power can be negotiated with other communities.  In yesteryears, we had GEMA (Gikuyu, Meru, Embu Association—sometimes, however, the “A” is represented as Akamba) and KAMATUSA (Kalenjin, Masaii, Turkana and Samburu).  Now we hear about the KKK (Kikuyu, Kalenjin and Kamba).  Although, the Vice-President and Deputy Prime Minister Uhuru Kenyatta have publicly disavowed any such affiliation, the numerous media self-references related to the KKK tell a different tale.  Indeed Uhuru was recently quoted urging the Kikuyu to unite behind one leader to negotiate for power with other communities.  It is also in the land of the powerful that the “other” is denigrated as “kimundu” (incidentally, now that Uhuru’s spokesman has “clarified” that “kimundu” is honorific can we refer to say, Uhuru and President Kibaki, as “kimundu”?)  Is it not interesting to see how much energy of the servant leader has expended in this direction?

In the Kenya of the powerless, women have no place at the high table.  They are excluded, for instance, when nominations for the position of chief justice, attorney general, director of public prosecutions, and director of budget are made.  They are excluded from being political leaders due to cultural and social barriers: they are even excluded when Kikuyu elders are meeting to “discuss” and “decide” the future and destiny of the tribe.  Yet, there is barely any squeak in protest from the servant leader on this issue.

So when the servant leader has been robustly engaged on a shuttle-diplomacy mission that has cost around Ksh 31.1 million, the question has to be asked—which Kenya was he serving?  He insists he was reclaiming Kenya but for whom was he reclaiming it?  He further argues that Kenya’s sovereignty was in jeopardy.  But has the International Criminal Court pretended to take over all judicial functions in Kenya?  Conversely, has Kenya even pretended to seriously bring to book those behind the 2007 post-election violence?  Even the latest attempt to appoint a chief justice, attorney general, and director of public prosecutions has turned out to be a farce; a spiraling tale of vicious, parochial, political contestation, conflict, and bad faith.  One mired with some serious conflicts of interest: first, where at least one potential suspect of the violence has been seen to play an influential role in appointing those who may ultimately prosecute him and sit in judgment.  And second, where those appointed have represented—and still may be—those who are potential suspects.

The primary beneficiary of the sovereignty argument is the powerful.  When the servant leader contends that it is simply about Kenya’s sovereignty, how come it is conveniently forgotten that it needed the entirely non-Kenyan panel of eminent African personalities led by Kofi Annan to patch Kenya—like Humpty Dumpty—back together again?  It is true the servant leader has previously accused Kofi Annan of “baby-sitting” the country: but where would the country be if not for Annan’s quiet influence especially when the coalition government sparks into internecine in-fighting?  Is the accusation really that Kofi Annan has usurped executive powers?  It is impossible to ignore how the doctrines of “sovereignty” and “non-interference” serve powerful.

Yet, when the Kenya of the powerless was desperately reclaiming the country via the enactment of a new constitution, the servant leader blinked and dithered so much that he became the poster boy of the “watermelon”—green (“Yes”) on the outside, red (“No”) on the inside or as one cartoonist illustrated: “Yes–No–Yes."

So this is the point.  The servant leader may be a leader of the powerless but he is really the servant of the powerful.  This has all to do with the many contradictions engendered by Kenya’s political system and process.  In time, he may even ascend to become the leader: of both the powerful and powerless.  But in truth, the powerless should never expect him to be their servant.