Personal Politics

Raila and Personal Politics

Raila Odinga visited Kabartonjo today. I saw him speak before more than a thousand people on the field of the primary school, just like I saw him a few weeks ago in Voi. For the Presidential candidates here, in Kenya, this week contains the sort of frenzied campaigning that Americans will experience in that final weeks before November next year. Kenyans head to the polls just after Christmas for the second free elections in their country’s history. If Raila Odinga defeats Moi Kibaki, the incumbent, it will be the first time in Africa’s history that a president has failed to be elected to a second term. A major accomplishment, since here the second term has historically led to a further consolidation of power making a third, a fourth, and an eventual moratorium on multi-party elections (such as the one repealed here in 1993) that much more likely.
I met James, the volunteer from just down the road in Kimegul at the rally. We talked about the coverage of Mitt Romney’s speech at Texas A+M, James’ alma mater. Relieving anxieties about his religious convictions, the clips and pictures we have seen here show Romney in front of a large, enthusiastic crowd. The message was apparently effective, giving Romney a jump in the polls as people gain increasing confidence that Mormonism isn’t a cult. James was telling me that the room in which Romney spoke holds, at most, three hundred people; hardly a number that would account for any change in national polls.
It is unlikely that Raila’s speech today -to more than three times that number - will make national news in Kenya. It certainly won’t merit mention on CNN.com or Bloomberg. Even if it did, even if it was in every national and international media outlet in the world, it would be impossible for it to have the kind of effect on Kenyans that Romney’s speech has arguably had on Americans. Many Kenyan’s lack the electricity (and the TV) that would be necessary to watch the news coverage. Few know how to use computers, even fewer have access to one with internet. And despite relatively high literacy rates, a significant portion of the population lacks the disposable income to buy a newspaper (supposing they even live somewhere they can get one). Here, the message that gets across is the one coming straight out of the candidate’s mouth as they speak, face to face, at fairgrounds, stadiums and even primary school soccer fields.
They say that all politics is local. Here, that is inescapably the case. Every one that saw Raila in person today is potentially one more vote for him come the 27th. In America, the politician who shakes your hand - who meets you in their ‘casual’ pressed khakis and button-down polo - needs to care more about the camera than the people they meet. They need three hundred people to look like a lot more. If you don’t like them after you see them in person, that’s okay, as long as the people who see the pictures do. It’s more important that it come across as a positive interaction, than that it actually be one.
In Kenya, the presentation and the reality have not yet parted ways. It makes it easier to grasp why African politics have for so long been decried as ‘charismatic’: the first hand experience of seeing a politician is often the only experience of them that people get. Politics is personal because it has to be.
The problem with such a system (so I am told) is that people never learn the issues. A half hour of face time can’t possibly leave a citizen informed enough to make an intelligent decision about where to cast their vote. Understanding the distinctions between candidates – knowing the issues - requires precisely the kind of access to newspapers, TV and the internet that most people here lack. This may well be true.
The people in my community – strongly in support of Raila – seem to be basing their decision mostly on a concept that change is good. This being only the second time they’ve have had such motive power, they are excited to use it in its most determinative form. Very few people have any idea how Raila will handle Kenya’s international debt, or what Kibaki will do about the crumbling colonial infrastructure. However, what is lacking in information, is more than present in enthusiasm.
For months, the primary topic of discussion as I have ridden in matatus, eaten in hotelis, and waited at the post office has been the coming election. From mamas selling bananas and guavas in the market to elderly folks lined up on benches in the town center, Kenyans are passionately involved in their politics. Raila’s presence in town today stopped everything. Shops were closed, the market was empty and throngs of people – dressed in their Sunday best – crowded the roads. Perhaps they aren’t informed about the issues (most Americans aren’t either) but every one I have talked to is eager and ready to cast their vote, whereas come November, vast numbers of Americans with the right to vote will neglect to do so. The endless photo ops and sound-bites, Youtube debates and editorials will fail to motivate most Americans to take an hour out of their day to engage in the simplest and most basic act of representative government.
Watching today it occurred to me that ‘charismatic’ politics are exactly what makes democracy here such a celebrated and important thing. It’s what makes Raila’s visit an event significant enough to put everyday life on hold and what ensures that next week the vast majority of Kenyans will use their voice and cast their vote. The memory of political corruption and repression certainly adds emphasis, but that’s because it reinforces the notion that this election isn’t just a show. It’s not just a massive public relations campaign centered around candidates interested in looking good first, and being good second. The simplicity and the vitality of Kenyan democracy comes from the fact that most Kenyans will only see their candidates face to face. It has to do with the fact that here, the presentation and reality remain very much the same.