Retired
US Supreme Court Justice Anthony Kennedy recently offered a sobering warning
about the state of public discourse in America. In an interview on Firing Line,
he lamented that the “incivility we see in our public life generally is
creeping too much into the court’s opinions.”
Coming from a jurist long known
for moderation and institutional reverence, this was not a casual observation.
It was a diagnosis: American politics has normalised incivility to the point
where even the Judiciary—once the last refuge of sober, principled
deliberation—is feeling the tremors.
What
struck me most was not Kennedy’s critique of the US Supreme Court—unexpected as
that was, but his implied resignation to the fact that incivility in American
politics has reached a peak and may well remain there indefinitely.
His plea
was simple: let the Judiciary remain untouched by this contagion, for if the
courts descend into the same rhetorical mud, then the rule of law itself will
be no more.
Kenya
should pay attention because like the US, incivility in our politics has been
on a steady rise. If we are lucky, the 2022 campaign season was the high‑water
mark—a period when insults, slurs and personalised attacks reached levels we
had not seen in years. And that is without even touching the 2007-08 post‑election
violence, which stands in a tragic class of its own.
We
have lived through moments when political rhetoric spilled into the streets
with devastating consequences. We know what happens when political disagreement
mutates into dehumanisation. We cannot afford to go down that road again.
Healthy
democracies thrive on debate, disagreement and ideological contestation.
What
they cannot survive is the normalisation of ad hominem attacks, character
assassination and rhetoric that edges toward incitement. A society that cannot
disagree without hatred is a society that cannot govern itself. And a leadership
that cannot tolerate criticism is one we can collectively do without.
This
brings me to the current ‘wantam’ chorus—those who insist President William
Ruto must go. In a democracy, that sentiment is not only permissible; it is
legitimate.
Citizens have every right to conclude that a leader has squandered
the goodwill and political capital entrusted to him. They have every right to
organise, mobilise and articulate their desire for change. They have every
right to say, loudly and repeatedly, that they want a different direction for
the country.
But
‘wantam’ should never mean hatred of Ruto.
It
should not be driven by personal animus, tribal hostility, or the kind of venom
that corrodes civic life. It should be driven by a sober assessment of
governance: whether promises were kept, whether the economy improved, whether
leadership was exercised with integrity. If the answer is no, then ‘Ruto must
go’ becomes a political judgment—not a personal vendetta.
And
those who sing ‘wantam’ must also remember something fundamental: in a
constitutional democracy, there is only one legitimate way for that desire to
materialise—the ballot box in 2027.
On
the other hand, those who sing ‘tutam’—that Ruto will remain—must also do so
with civility. They must resist the temptation to treat dissenters as enemies
of the state or enemies of progress.
They must not direct anger or hatred
toward those who prefer a different leader or at the leader. And they must not
weaponise loyalty to the President as a licence to insult, demean, or threaten
those who disagree.
Democracy
is not a choir that sings in unison. It is a marketplace of competing songs.
Let
‘wantam’ sing. Let ‘tutam’ sing. Let each side articulate its vision, its
grievances, its aspirations. Let each side organise, persuade and mobilise. And
let the Kenyan people—peacefully, freely and without intimidation—decide whose
song carries the day in 2027.
If
we can achieve that, then we will have done something far more important than
electing a president. We will have strengthened our democracy. We will have
proven that political disagreement need not descend into hatred.
And we will
have shown that Kenya can rise above the incivility that Justice Kennedy fears
is consuming even the world’s oldest democracies.
That
is the Kenya we should all want.