A Historic Day

On August 27, 2010, the new constitution of the Republic of Kenya was officially promulgated. The word ‘promulgate’ comes from the Latin mulgere, meaning to milk, but the constitution was not being milked out to the people. It was instead officially signed into law. In Nairobi the military paraded, and thousands of people gathered to watch and celebrate the event in Uhuru Park.

Omar al-Bashir, the President of Sudan, was a prominent figure at the ceremony. He is also wanted by the International Criminal Court for crimes against humanity including the genocide in Darfur. This put the new Kenya, a signatory to the International Criminal Court, in a somewhat awkward position on its first day. By international law, they should arrest President al-Bashir and deliver him to The Hague. Practically speaking, things are not quite so cut and dry. Kenya and Sudan share a small section of historically disputed border. The Sudan is known for its disappointment at neither being the mouth nor the source of the Nile, and for its widespread AK-47s.

It is likely that the arrest of your president by your neighbor on a celebratory cross border visit would not go over very well. From Kenya’s position, do you risk war with your neighbor to assuage a western-dominated body with limited power of enforcement? On the other hand, if the western powers decide to make a big deal over this, it could mean actual repercussions in the terms of U.N. sanctions. But what is the likelihood of the U.N. passing sanctions on one of the few African nations that is taking steps in the direction that the U.N. supports? And have the western powers done anything substantial about the crisis in Darfur for that matter? Al-Bashir is still in charge, and the crisis continues. There will certainly be some strong talk, but that is small potatoes compared to the act of arresting your neighbor’s president. He may be a terrible guy, but no one becomes president without someone thinking he is great, even if it is just his militant cronies. Those cronies seem more likely to make real trouble for Kenya than does the U.N.

Probably those in charge will blame the situation and the ensuing international hullaballoo on some poor official who will get fired. They could also blame it all on al-Bashir himself, who can be written off as unpredictable and defiant. The President of the semi-autonomous Southern Sudan was invited; al-Bashir came instead. What can you do? Some might say you can arrest him, but they are not seeing the big picture. It is better to do nothing and blame someone else. Alternatively they could state that they did not arrest al-Bashir because it was not in their best interests, but that kind of plain talk is not commonplace in any political sphere, west, east, or south.

Al-Bashir’s visit could be viewed in two ways. First it could show Kenya as not quite in the place where it strives to be. The visit represents a blunder of official incompetence, or the acceptance of an immoral regime, neither of which gets high marks. Alternatively, it could show that Kenya is in fact joining the group of leading nations. Taking a cue from countries like the United States and China, Kenya too can ignore international law when it so chooses, because no one will do anything about it if you are big enough to count.

The lasting impact of the day will be the effect of the new constitution on Kenya, and the country taking another step in becoming a leader among African nations. The Omar al-Bashir visit, despite its headline appeal at the moment, will fade into the footnotes of history. Kenya steps into a new position. The constitution serves as a promise to its people to develop justly and fairly, to eschew corruption and nepotism, and to ensure the rights of all.

My snarky remarks and the incidence of international blunders aside, the day marks a new beginning. I confess to having felt some emotion manifest itself in my chest when I saw pieces of the ceremony on the television at the restaurant where I was eating lunch. Kenya’s constitution had absolutely nothing to do with me, and yet I felt something. Had I seen the event on American news, I could write my reaction off to the formulaic and contrived media coverage pushing the right buttons on my sappy side. Instead I saw the Kenyan media coverage, not quite so polished, nor quite so false. This leads me to think that what I felt was something more. I believe that whether or not the constitution lives up to its promise, it was the effort and support of the promise itself that inspired my reaction. I felt a sense of humanity rising above its own failings, pushing itself beyond its instincts for personal preservation, looking towards a brighter future. Despite my disassociation with the specifics of this incidence, I am a part of that humanity. I saw us rising. Some part of me, beneath my affinity for cynical humor and my affectations of having seen this wheel turn round before felt a moment of hope and joy in that promise.

Beliefs are strange things. We can define them and put them into jars to help us sleep at night. We can boil them down to quick phrases to break out in conversation. We can claim we know our own front to back. We can so easily stop questioning them, or get so wrapped up in our everyday lives that we forget what we believe in the first place. On Friday, August 27, 2010, I remembered something that I believe. It had as little or as much to do with the constitution of Kenya as any other specific element of our humanity, other than that the constitution was what set of the thought in my mind. I remembered that underneath all of the day to day jumble, beneath the mess of pragmatic decisions and regular necessities, it is my ideals of peace and justice that give the rest of it purpose. The promulgation of Kenya’s constitution reminded me that in my own life, there is more to strive for than my own needs, more to defend than my property, more to do than poke fun at the failings of mankind, and nothing more essential than my humanity.