Kenya has been talking all week about a song, Wajinga Nyinyi, translated into “You Fools.” King Kaka, the singer, provides a running commentary on social ills he feels affects the country.
How do politicians succeed in getting otherwise right-thinking Kenyans to remember their neighbour belongs to, for example, Luo or Kikuyu ethnic community during elections, Kaka asks? “Ata salamu hatapata, piga tu kura na utalala bila kula.” When translated Kaka implies: The neighbour will get nothing, not even greetings in the election period and after voting all will sleep hungry.
This situation is common in many countries. We saw it in Rwanda and the consequence was genocide. We see situations all over Africa when an election is not only sufficient reason not to greet neighbours but also to, on occasion pick up a machete and murder, or try to, on the basis of ethnicity.
Anyone planning pre-election conflict analysis workshop will find Kaka’s song has identified potential conflict indicators, triggers and drivers. He, for instance, in a few sentences, pinpoints issues that through joint action, can ensure violence is anticipated and prevented such as the political tension that tears up relationships between neighbours.
On the campaign trail, divisive politicians will introduce us to our neighbours — whom they have never met — and, tell us who they are and their ethnic communities, and therefore who, as opposed to our neighbours, we are.
They will frame this introduction of our neighbours to us in a “we” versus “them” campaign to obscure the personal material self-interest and accumulated advantage involved in their election bids.
Politicians will not say how different ethnicities collectively share or have in common. They do not speak of intermarriages as being still some of the best mediums through which traditionally, ethnic groups-built healthy relationships with neighbours.
When promoting divisions, they do not say the constitution protects majorities and minorities. They will not say an ethnic community with a majority in one county has members who are a minority in another, and therefore, it is important, where you are a majority to treat minorities well as you could end up being a minority somewhere else.
They don’t say a person can belong to multiple identities beyond ethnicity such as teacher and footballer — and that bonds in a football team are sometimes stronger that ethnic belonging.
While acknowledging that ethnic differences, even while reinforced by a politician’s interest need not lead to violence, we should ask how ethnic identity became such an important rhetorical resource for politicians. Why are politicians who thrive on division able to pursue self-interest so openly, so blatantly?
Divisive politicians have a good understanding of how consequential early socialisation on belonging or not to an ethnic identity is and that it is this understanding that individuals usually draw upon to make many decisions. They know the force and use of categorisations such as “we”, “them”, “us” and “others” to limit the flexibility of ethnic identity.
They understand the use of history, particularly as it is perceived or imagined and what they can manipulate.
They can therefore foretell, often with accuracy, the individual and collective consequences of political ethnic mobilisation, costs and benefits. In this way, they gloss over real issues people need addressed such as land reform, prioritising economic growth so that inequalities are not used to fuel war and ensuring equitable utilisation of all national resources.
When elected, they promote politics of patronage, nepotism and ethnicism. They are efficient at masking their struggles for power and resources.
During an election in which neighbours’ relationships, despite belonging to opposing political parties, do not change have huge implications towards preventing violent conflict. Greet your neighbour, every day, even during the election season.
