The Odinga-led dialogues: Who really benefits from the talks?

It is not surprising that Raila Odinga wants an all-inclusive intergenerational dialogue to address Gen-Z protests. He loves that landscape. It has previously served him well and could do it again. 

He has proposed a curious forum he calls a conclave. He further recommends that the conclusions of the conclave should be affirmed by a national referendum.

A conclave is a private meeting. It is even a secretive meeting, whose detailed deliberations are not supposed to be publicized. Traditionally, conclaves are secret talks forums. Their exclusionist character does not make them viable for deliberations on democratic governance. Odinga may have to explain what he means by a conclave. Has he unintentionally leaked out secret information?

Is the proposal for a referendum a pointer to the possibility that the outcomes of the conclave are already known in some quarters? Could Mr Odinga be party to a script by a conclave that has already done its work? For, how would it be known, even before the agenda is defined, that the proposed conclave would bring up material that should go to a referendum?

It is possible that the Kenyan nation is not being invited to an open dialogue, at the end of which the marbles will rest where they may. It is more probable that Kenya is being baited towards a pre-set choreograph. If there is choreography, what is the agenda? Will the process benefit the nation, or will it address the whims and appetites of the leaders, as has happened before? The thing has the smell of new offices in the Executive, as was proposed in the failed BBI and in the Ruto-Raila NADCO initiative.

Mr Odinga is, without a doubt, a master craftsman of dialogues and a principal beneficiary in troubled political landscapes. Rolling on the clarion call of preserving the national fabric and peace, he derives glorious personal returns from every dialogue. This is regardless that the parley is public, or that it is in secret. Previous dialogues have given him high office, a molasses plant in Kisumu, and business monopolies. When he has been seen as not cooperating with the government, these bounties have been used to coerce him. Interest in the energy industry, Kenya Ports Authority, and public works, constitute some of his business rewards from dialogue and handshakes.

Odinga’s latest call for dialogue and a referendum has, however, run into headwinds. The youth, a section of the clergy, and public intellectuals are not persuaded that Kenya needs a referendum, not even after a Raila headed dialogue. The argument is that the country has a rich repository of post-conflict dialogue reports. They are gathering dust on the shelves, while little has been done about their recommendations. They include the Truth, Justice and Reconciliation Commission (TJRC) report of March 2013, the Akiwumi Report, the Kennedy Kiliku Report, the Kriegler Report, and the Waki Report. All these reports speak to interrelated concerns that have bedevilled the Kenyan nation since colonial times.

The reports are rich with recommendations on the way forward. Others are in the Constitution. However, both Parliament and the Executive have failed to implement the law and the recommendations of the reports. Whenever any recommendations have been carried through, they have had direct benefits for the big wigs, with Odinga and his family as rank beneficiaries. The Waki and Kriegler reports were factors of the Kofi Anan led peace and reconciliation process of 2008,  in the wake of the post-election violence of 2007/2008. The recommendations have largely been ignored.

Kriegler was about management of elections. Nearly two decades later, Kenya is hearing about another dialogue on elections. Waki was about post-election violence. Because the recommendations were ignored, Kenyans are today hearing the same drums of war they heard in 2007. Some are by the same drummers of that tragic season. They are supported by casts of newcomers, most of whom were kids in 2007.

The Kofi Anan dialogues involved talks between President Mwai Kibaki and Raila Odinga, both of whom had been presidential candidates in the 2007 elections. Even as Waki and Kriegler went about their assignments, a handshake between President Kibaki and Raila took place, on the steps of Harambee House. The armistice led to the National Peace and Reconciliation Accord that created the office of prime minister for Raila. Other close relatives were gradually appointed into prime positions in the “Nusu-Mkate” (half-a-loaf) government. His sister, Dr Wenwa Akinyi Oranga, was appointed to Kenya’s consulate in Los Angles, USA (2009-2011). Another close relative, Elkanah Absalom Odembo, became Kenya’s Ambassador to the United States (2010-2014). Beryl Odinga, another sister, was appointed to chair the Kenya Railways Staff Retirement Benefits Authority. She later left in controversial circumstances.

And subsequent to last year’s quiet handshake with President William Ruto, Dr Wenwa now chairs the Kenya Marine and Fisheries Institute. There have been many other senior appointments, in the country and abroad.

Kenya has had no less than five high-level handshakes. Each signifies a troubled season for the presidency. In all cases, the sitting President has found it necessary to tap into the Opposition. The common factor in each of the handshakes has been the Odinga name. Jaramogi Oginga Odinga, Raila’s father, set the pace following the 1992 elections. In 1993 he surprised the nation with the announcement that his party, Ford Kenya, was going “to cooperate with President Moi’s government,” in the interest of “national cohesion and development.”

Moi had won the December 1992 presidential election. But the combined Opposition had more numbers in Parliament than Kanu. Legislation was proving difficult for the government. Jaramogi provided the critical rescue for Kanu ahead of his passing on in 1994.

The son, Raila, picked up the cue. He has since perfected the art of fishing in troubled political waters. When the waters have not been clearly troubled, it has been necessary to trouble them, to facilitate space for discourse, consensus, and inclusion into government, and the benefits that go with that.

The Odingas have done well for themselves each time. They have argued, however, that they bridge spaces with troubled regimes in greater public interest. Where does the balance seem to lie, however, between accusations of greed and betrayal, on the one hand, and claims of altruism and public interest on the other?

After the 1997 elections, Raila, then the party leader of the National Development Party (NDP) forged a working relationship with President Moi and Kanu. The move matured into the March 18, 2002 merger between NDP and Kanu. The independence party swallowed NDP, to become New Kanu. The new entity was however never registered that way. President Moi appointed Raila Minister for Energy. Paul Adhu Awiti, became Minister for Planning.

Raila would later fall out with Moi, when on July 27, 2002 the President named Uhuru Kenyatta his preferred successor. Raila later rationalized the failed cooperation and merger of NDP with Kanu in his autobiographical narrative titled The Flame of Freedom.

“Our prime objective in merging with Kanu had been to ensure the introduction of the constitutional reforms the country so badly needed. If that was not possible, it was necessary to break Kanu from within and end its 40-year stranglehold on the nation. I embraced these concepts as my mission.”

The American political scientist Harold D. Lasswell (1902-1978) famously described politics as a game of “who gets what, when and how.” Raila Odinga is a master tactician in the game. He gets what he wants out of every crisis. In point of fact, the 1997 elections in which he ran for President produced a hung National Assembly. President Moi’s Kanu won 107 of the 210 seats, only four seats ahead of the combined Opposition. Even with an extra 12 nominated members, Kanu was in a very bad place. Odinga saw a good opportunity for himself and his party. He closed ranks with Moi and Kanu.

On his own admission, the initiative to work with Moi was his. He would later write in his autobiography:

“ . . . on January 6, 1998, the day after Moi was sworn in following the 1997 elections, I decided to accept publicly the election results, even if under protest. My real interest was not to return to the electoral process at that point, but to move forward with constitutional reform that would have a fundamental effect on future elections, and I intended to pursue this by whatever means seemed appropriate.”

But if indeed Odinga’s objective in January 1998 was constitutional reform, this vaporized as soon as the cooperation with Kanu began. Indeed, President Moi appointed him to chair a parliamentary select committee to coordinate the constitutional review process. This, however, did not yield fruit.  The rest of the Opposition questioned both the legitimacy and intent of this move. Worse still, Moi and Old Kanu rejected the constitutional Bill that Odinga tabled in Parliament on October 17, 2002. They dismissed it as “outrageous fantasy.”

Meanwhile, with the Kanu-NDP merger tightly in place, and Odinga now the Kanu Secretary General and Minister for Energy in the Moi government, both the tune and tone changed. The new kids on the Kanu block began becoming more Kanu than Kanu. They were veritably more Catholic than the pope.

Oppressive regime

Otieno Kajwang, the New Kanu Secretary for Legal Affairs and Communications, began issuing confounding press releases. They were antitheses of everything Odinga and NDP had purported to believe in and stand for. Prof Kivutha Kibwana, then an active player in civil society, accused Odinga of frustrating genuine reform efforts. It was bad enough that he had weakened the collective Opposition by taking NDP to Kanu. But now here he was, together with his acolytes, singing songs of praise to what was seen everywhere else as an oppressive regime. For much of 2002, Raila sat well with what was generally accepted as an oppressive Kanu regime.

Why did Raila the democrat camp up with Kanu?

His autobiography provides some useful lead. For, he recalls June 28, 1998 in the words:

“Moi and I went to Kamukunji grounds for a rally. He told the people he would soon make clear who his successor should be  . . . Many people were of the opinion that the chosen one might be me.”

Perhaps Raila intended to use the opportunity for the good of the nation. But he also expected to be Moi’s chosen one. The fact remains, accordingly, that he shook hands with an oppressive regime. He hung in there, making overbearing statements that confounded friend and foe alike. The same is happening today, as his acolytes in ODM shout to silence the progressive voices in the Orange party. He has himself asked Kenyans where they want President Ruto to go.

Odinga and his political corner have perfected political artifice. Twenty years after the 1998 Moi handshake, there would be another one with Uhuru Kenyatta, on March 9,  2018, on the self-same steps of Harambee House, where the handshake with Kibaki had taken place in 2008. The amazing political acrobat that is Raila Odinga has never told Kenya the details of the conversation that led to the 2018 handshake, or the finer details of what was discussed and agreed. Their accord was, however, window-dressed in a joint press release, in which they lavished each other with praise, promising to reform the country.

They hinted at creating an office for Raila. While President Uhuru never made a specific appointment, it was Odinga himself who announced rather casually at a national public event that he was grateful to Uhuru, for facilitating his appointment to the African Union Commission as special envoy for infrastructure. It remains unclear what he did for the commission, and how useful it has been for Africa and Kenya. In the balance, however, Odinga ate his cake and had it, at the same time. He stayed out of the Uhuru government while remaining a part of it. Today he is both in the Ruto government and outside. The cost to the taxpayer will perhaps be known in the future, if ever.

Regardless, Uhuru and Odinga cosied up to the very end. The President threw his full weight behind Odinga, as his preferred successor in 2022. They lost to Ruto. Ruto carries this on his sleeve. He handles everyone disdainfully, except one individual whom he reveres; Raila Odinga.  He unsuccessfully sponsored him to the AUC chair, and basically treats him as a deity of sorts. For this, Odinga pays by closing his eyes to the Kenya Kwanza misrule. He only whimpers softly, once in a while, one eye closed. His brigade, meanwhile, lines up for a probable Ruto Season II. Odinga would seem happy to use Season II as his path to comfortable retirement. He loves Big Brother. 

Dr Barrack Muluka, PhD [Politics & International Relations, Leicester, UK] is a  Strategic Communications Adviser