President and DP engaging in politics of pity; it's dangerous

The rift between President William Ruto and his deputy Rigathi Gachagua is a reflection of the politics of pity.

This discord is not rooted in their deeper political interests; those were settled when major government appointments were finalised and solidified by Parliament.

What we see instead is a battle of self-pity, with each leader attempting to shape public perception by casting themselves as the victim rather than the aggressor.

In the past two weeks, tribal politics have dominated the public discourse, driven by the top leadership of Kenya Kwanza. On one hand, there is a vehement denunciation of tribal politics as a tactic to gain sympathy and divide Kenyans along ethnic lines. On the other hand, there is a fervent movement to consolidate tribes through political party formations.

Let us be candid with ourselves: We are reverting to the politics of pity. Tribes are rallying to voice their discontent with the national government. Some have even gone as far as to declare their regret in voting for Kenya Kwanza. Key figures from the ruling coalition are distancing themselves from the government, interestingly, without severing their connections entirely.

These politicians need the government's support to survive, despite publicly denouncing the very source of that support. The government cannot simply cut them off because the affected tribes would cry foul.

As Kenyans, we are easily moved by pity for victims and feel compelled to help. This sympathy is shown by standing with “one of our own” through tribal self-pity, thereby generating collective tribal energy to support our kin.

There is a danger in using self-pity to seek sympathy and love. However, in Kenyan politics, there is a significant advantage to wallowing in self-pity. By drawing sympathy, creating imaginary wounds, and licking them, politicians can incite tribal moral panic.

Let us delve deeper. When engaging in self-pity politics, tribal rallying cries emerge. We now see the rejected one man, one vote, one-shilling slogan and its counter; one-man, one vote, one kilometre gaining traction.

Former President Uhuru Kenyatta attempted this through the Building Bridges Initiative (BBI), and someone happily stopped the “reggae,” allowing us to “move on.” Now, we are back, lamenting how unfair it is for the national government to distribute resources inequitably.

It is also peculiar how the Kenya Kwanza government criticises tribal politics when public appointments are skewed against majority tribes. Yet, it is not impossible to address this issue. The solution is simple: Recall all appointments and create a fairly representative list of appointments across the government. Then, condemn any attempts to divide Kenya along tribal lines. Failing to do this only appeals to history: “this is how ‘they’ did it, so why not us?”

The danger of indulging in self-pity politics is that it easily evokes tribal sentiments. The depth of our sentimental attachments to our tribes is such that we would rather have “our thief” than demand accountability from Kenyans in top leadership positions.

Again, we revert to history and say, “they have protected their own in the past, so what is the problem if we do it?” Of course, this makes sense in linear thinking.

We have set our bar for leadership too low. We need visionary leaders who will foster a culture of nationhood.

We need leaders who, once elected, promote a strong sense of patriotism, inclusivity, and justice. We need leaders who do not indulge in self-pity to draw tribal sympathy but instead uphold principles founded on human dignity. We lack leadership that yearns for authenticity. 

The politics of pity is a dangerous game. It diverts attention from the real issues that need to be addressed, such as equitable distribution of resources, accountability, and good governance. It perpetuates a cycle of victimhood and entitlement that hinders national cohesion and development. It is time we moved beyond politics of pity and embraced politics of law, order and principle.

No doubt, the politics of pity may offer short-term gains, but it ultimately undermines the foundations of a just and united nation. As Kenyans, we deserve better. We deserve leaders who will rise above tribal divisions and work towards de-tribalising politics.

Dr Mokua is the Executive Director, Loyola Centre for Media and Communication