Kenyatta – the Hero of the Struggle for Independence?

6Jomo Kenyatta was arrested on October 20, 1952, as part of a vast police operation carried out at the time when the colonial government had declared a state of emergency in the colony in order to eradicate the Mau Mau organization. This diverse movement, in violent opposition to the colonial order, developed rapidly in the central, predominantly Kikuyu, Kenyan province and in Nairobi. Campaigns involving oaths of allegiance to the Mau Mau cause and the assassination of leaders or individuals close to the colonial government, and, in a more limited fashion, the European settlers, multiplied from the 1950s onwards. The six leading figures of the Kenya African Union (KAU), the first political association on a national scale to be authorized after the war and whose leader was Jomo Kenyatta, were among the one hundred and six individuals imprisoned during the crackdown known as Operation Jock Scott. They were tried at a show trial held at Kapenguria between December 3, 1952 and April 8, 1953, and were condemned to seven years of imprisonment accompanied by hard labor in the semidesert wilderness of northern Kenya. [5]

7Contrary to the descriptions given out by the colonial authorities, African nationalism, promulgated by the KAU, was far from being homogeneous. The “Kapenguria Six” (Jomo Kenyatta, Bildad Kaggia, Fred Kubai, Paul Ngei, Achieng’Oneko, and Kungu Karumba) were representative rather of the diversity of nationalist sentiments– sentiments affected by divisions that were at once social, economic, and generational–and were expressed in the means by which their objectives could be attained by men whose opinions remained divergent. It was against this varied political backdrop that Kenyatta, who supported the implementation of gradual constitutional reforms, represented the moderate nationalists. The radicals, who gathered round Fred Kubai and Bildad Kaggia, advocated the use of violence and the physical elimination of moderate nationalists; Kenyatta’s name was, moreover, blacklisted by them. [6] Kenyatta’s trial followed by his detention gave credence to the myth, largely fabricated by colonial propaganda, identifying him as the brains behind, and the leader of, the Mau Mau movement.

8The declaration of a state of emergency on October 20, 1952 and the arrest of the KAU leaders heralded a cycle of violence that was to shake the Kenyan central province between 1952 and 1957. The colonial authorities countered any support, acts of violence, and punitive operations carried out by the rebels with fierce repression affecting the whole Kikuyu population not identified as loyalist, forcing individuals to align themselves with one side or the other in accordance with classic civil war reasoning. [7] During the second half of 1957, the surrender or arrest of the principal rebel generals, the breakup of hideouts in the Aberdare forest and on Mount Kenya as well as the eviction of the Kikuyu population from Nairobi following Operation Anvil in April, 1954, ensured the victory of the colonial forces. The repression was carried out in a variety of ways (internment and transit camps and the systematic policy of villagization in the central province, for instance), with the state of emergency being lifted only in January, 1960. [8] At the same time as these military operations, the exit strategy for the crisis implemented by the colonial authorities from 1954 favored the loyalists politically, economically, and socially, to the detriment of those suspected of Mau Mau sympathies, who were systematically harassed.

9The first national elections were organized in March, 1957, with a view to appointing seven African representatives from seven provinces to the Legislative Council. [9] Only the regional political parties were eligible and, in the central province, the vote was restricted to adults who were able to present a loyalty certificate issued by the colonial authorities (7.4% of the electorate). [10] This first election saw the emergence of a new generation of politicians, frequently younger, sometimes educated abroad, and more moderate in their demands, [11] epitomized by Tom Mboya, who came from the west of Kenya and had newly been elected to the Nairobi constituency. [12] From a trade union background and head of the Kenya Federation of Labor (KFL), he led the nationalist movement, which he endeavored to unify by demanding the acceleration of constitutional reforms and Kenyatta’s release. With the slogan “Kenyatta and independence” [13] being chanted at political meetings, the figure of Jomo Kenyatta came to represent independence; he symbolized the country’s liberation and the ending of the repression which had begun in 1952. Moreover, this demand enabled the legitimization of the political activities of the moderate nationalists who had remained outside the armed conflict.

10Much to the surprise of the European settlers and the colonial administration, Kenyatta’s release was central to the negotiations put together in London in January, 1960. The two African representatives (Tom Mboya and Ronald Ngala) effectively demanded his release as a prerequisite to any discussion. The general elections organized in February, 1961, against the background of this constitutional process, sealed a victory for the Kenya African National Union (KANU), the political party heir to the KAU, founded in May, 1960 by Tom Mboya, James Gichuru, and Odinga Odinga. Their elected members refused to form a government as long as Kenyatta remained in prison. This demand, which was adopted by the elected representatives of the Kenya People’s Union (KPU), [14] resulted in Kenyatta’s release on August 14, 1961. After the victory of the KANU in the legislative elections, he was appointed prime minister on June 1, 1963.

11Raised to the status of an icon in the struggle for independence during his imprisonment, Kenyatta embodied a combination of all forms of opposition to the colonial order; namely, trade-union, insurrectional, or reformist. However, the question remained: of what national heritage was he ultimately custodian? Far from being the enraged Mau Mau rebel he was made out to be in colonial propaganda, “the African leader to darkness and death,” [15] throughout his political career he had endeavored to reconcile differences of opinion in favor of unity and the greater good of the group. But which group? The clan, the ethnic group, or the nation?

Kenyatta – a Nationalist Hero?

12When Kenyatta was released in 1961, Kenyan memories of civil war were still very fresh, particularly among the Kikuyu from the central province. Numerous Mau Mau prisoners found their lands occupied by loyalists when they returned from detention. [16] The principal motivation in the anticolonial struggle and a focal point of convergence for all nationalist demands (moderate and radical) since the nineteen-twenties, the return of the lands, which had been transferred by the Europeans, once again represented a topical subject, revealing profound divisions in the emerging African political class.

13So as to protect the interests of European farmers and prevent future violence, in 1962 the colonial government organized the sale of 1.2 million acres of European lands to smallholders through a system of loans as part of the Million Acre Scheme. [17] Jomo Kenyatta chose to support the British, arousing a feeling of betrayal among a number of nationalists, who would have preferred the property question to be resolved by an African government. The Million Acre Scheme recognized the right of the European minority to sell lands which did not “belong” to them. Moreover, the conditions under which loans were granted favored an African proto-bourgeoisie, at the cost of more disadvantaged populations lacking land or employment. The property question therefore became a point of major political friction, in which supporters of land redistribution, Bildad Kaggia for instance, who was seen as the custodian of nationalism and the defender of the poorest, and the landowners, who supported government policy, opposed each other.

14After his release, Jomo Kenyatta sided with order against the threat of corruption. At the beginning of 1962, he therefore declared: “We are determined to have independence in peace, and we shall not allow hooligans to rule Kenya.” [18] A few months later, in a speech delivered at Nakuru in April, 1962 in front of a gathering of 400 European farmers, Kenyatta advocated reconciliation by forgiving and forgetting: “There is no society of angels, black, brown, or white... We are human beings and as such we are bound to make mistakes. If I have done a mistake to you, it is for you to forgive me. If you have done a mistake to me, it is for me to forgive you.” [19] Within a matter of months, European feelings towards Kenyatta passed from profound hatred to veritable adulation. [20] Formerly billed as a major threat to the interests of this community, he became a shield against the most radical nationalists such as Odinga Odinga and Bildad Kaggia.

15This moderate or–more accurately conservative–nationalist, who had assumed the leadership of the KANU in 1961, was no different from the man who had led the KAU between 1946 and 1952. Throughout his political career, both in Kenya and abroad, he worked tirelessly to achieve the convergence of positions and opinions, contributing to the creation of a hybrid form of political thought that was sometimes ambivalent.

16Jomo Kenyatta, who was born during the final decades of the nineteenth century, when the British were including Kenya within the Protectorate, was a witness to, and one of principal actors within, the profound transformation of Kenyan society. In the early nineteen-twenties, he was living and working in Nairobi where he witnessed the violent repression of the first political demonstration organized by Harry Thuku in 1922. He became the general secretary of the Kikuyu Central Association [21] (KCA) in 1928 and endeavored to defend the unity and interests of his people, particularly by seeking to bring the two rival Kikuyu associations, the Kenya Association (KA) [22] and the KCA, closer together. He was sent to England by the KCA in 1929 to defend the African cause before the Crown with respect to the land transfers made for the benefit of European settlers, ultimately spending sixteen years in Great Britain. This stay was crucial to his political and intellectual development. He made contact with internationalist circles (Communists, pan-Africans, and the International League for Human Rights) and, at the London School of Economics, he was to explore the ethnic and cultural dimension of his commitment to nationalism, alongside Bronislaw Malinowski, the functionalist anthropologist thinker. [23] Based on writings by Jomo Kenyatta, John Lonsdale has demonstrated how the myth of the Imperial monarchy promulgated by the British authorities might be reflected in a form of “Kikuyu constitutionalism” developed by Kenyatta, relying precisely on reciprocal obligations linking the boss with his clients and protégés, the king with his subjects, and the father with his children. [24] It was, in fact, as a “boss” that Kenyatta returned to Kenya in September, 1946. He was quick to obtain prestige by acquiring some land and marrying within the two most powerful Kikuyu clans. He became president of the KAU and attempted to assemble the emerging multi-ethnic political forces in support of his political plan for constitutional reform. In a speech delivered on July 26, 1952, which appealed to all Kenyans to unite behind the KAU in its struggle for the recognition of their rights and liberties, he reaffirmed his commitment to reform by distancing himself from the Mau Mau in particular. [25]

17In sum, for over thirty years, between his entry into politics as a member of the KAU in 1928 and his release in 1961, Kenyatta kept out of the limelight with respect to the political scene in Kenya, although his shadow loomed in the background as a constant reminder of his presence there. As in 1946, it was as an arbiter that he returned to politics in 1961. His imprisonment during the state of emergency, followed by the political significance of his release gave him the status of a hero in the nationalist struggle, despite his moderate position, which was viewed by a number of radical nationalists as ambiguous. The power of the myth, adopted by the moderate nationalists particularly, lay precisely in the fact that the divisions inherited from the struggle for independence were bypassed. The head of state created an image of himself as the Father of the Nation precisely by capitalizing on his status as a hero. To this end, he devised a founding myth of origins exclusively centered round himself, lending historical legitimacy to the new regime as well as reinforcing his position by the systematic elimination of any competing memories.

Kenyatta Day and the Birth of a Hero

19“It is the day on which we wish to show the world our respect and loyalty to the Father of the Nation, the pioneer and founder of our nationalist movement, Mzee Jomo Kenyatta.” [27] The quasi-religious symbolism of the setting for this ceremony of homage in honor of Jomo Kenyatta’s accession to the role of Father of the Nation lent to these festivities the semblance of a coronation. In each of the eight provinces, thanksgiving ceremonies were celebrated in all the churches and mosques. In order to commemorate the blood that had been spilt and the sacrifices made for the sake of independence, a national blood collection campaign was organized: “This is symbolic of the struggle through which we have passed and the readiness of our nationalist leaders to shed their blood for Kenya and for their fellow men.” [28] In 1965, the traditional gala banquet, which served to raise funds for the KANU, was presented by the Government Communications Service as a Last Supper: “This occasion will commemorate the Last Supper which H. E. Mzee Jomo Kenyatta had at his house that unforgettable night in October 1952 before the imperialists arrested him.” [29] The procession organized in the streets of Nairobi, in which all the state services were united, with Kenyatta at its head, was ultimately endowed with a heroic symbolism: “He will on that day enter Nairobi like a fighter and conqueror he is, and drive along the streets in procession so that he may once more see and be seen by the people he leads.” [30] Even the football match, in which members of the government and parliament competed against representatives from diplomatic delegations, seemed to symbolize the independence and vitality of the new nation in the face of the rest of the world. Against this allegorical backdrop, which revealed the almost divine and heroic nature of the Father of the Nation, his public speeches were also of central importance.

20When Kenyatta Day was first celebrated in 1964, in a message which was broadcast on the radio and concerned the struggle for national liberation, Jomo Kenyatta insisted on his role within a long process, the beginnings of which dated back to the 1920s. This historical depth brought the Mau Mau episode (in which October 20 was moreover a significant date) into perspective with preference being shown to a more inclusive and consensual interpretation of the struggle for independence. It was in the name of reconciliation that Kenyatta advocated an official policy of amnesia: “Let us agree that we shall never refer to the past. us instead unite, in all utterances and activities, in concern for the reconstruction of our country and the vitality of Kenya’s future.” [31] October 20 was, from 1965 on, the date set aside for the official celebration of the Mzee’s [32] birthday instead of his birth date, as it was seen as representative of the seal of the symbolic union between man’s destiny and that of the nation.

21This founding ceremony, held in honor of the accession of the Father of the Nation and sole repository for the memory of the struggle for independence, also had a precise political purpose. It dramatized the nation’s allegiance to the Founding Father. On October 20, 1964, the Prime Minister addressed a crowd gathered in the Kamukunji Stadium and announced the immediate release of all the Mau Mau prisoners. The crowd, which was invited to decide whether to establish a one-party regime by the end of 1964, voted overwhelmingly in favor of the idea. [33] The ministers and regime dignitaries also presented their compliments to the head of state at this ceremony. These communications were signs, however, of tensions and power struggles within the regime. Tom Mboya remembered in detail the role that both the trade unions and he himself played in pursuit of the struggle for independence following the arrest of the KAU leaders. For his part, Bildad Kaggia, Kenyatta’s prison cellmate, openly called for an even-handed division of the fruits of independence by implicitly denouncing the shift in the significance of the event of October 20 effected by the new regime. The representatives of the ethnic minority groups within the Kenya African Democratic Union (KADU), whose merger with the KANU was scheduled, showed restraint in terms of the wording of their allegiance to the head of state and the one-party system. Thus, its president, Daniel Arap Moi, complimented the prime minister (and not the Founding Father) on his commitment to the nation. From the moment when Kenya was on the point of abandoning the first federal constitution in favor of a centralist republic, relations between the center and its marginals became a sensitive issue. In 1965, a number of county commissioners denounced the heavy financial burden placed upon them for organizational purposes, given that the benefits granted them were scant compared with the sums allocated to Nairobi. [34]

22In sum, the first Kenyatta Day celebrations, which marked the start of the “official campaign for the hero-worship of the head of state,” [35] represented a decisive stage in the creation of the Kenyatta myth, enabling the subsequent legitimization of the new regime through the elimination of any competing myths.

The Political Uses of the Myth

23In the new foundation story that took shape from 1964 on, October 20 was oversimplified, deprived as it was of its historical significance. It no longer commemorated the declaration of the state of emergency, but alluded to the struggle for, and the accession to, independence, embodied solely by the figure of Jomo Kenyatta. This original form of symbolic representation, to all intents and purposes the personification of the memory of independence, recalls in some respects the “Gaullist resistancialism” defined by the historian Henry Rousso as “less like a glorification of the Resistance (and certainly not of those who participated in it) than a celebration of a people in resistance personified by the man of June 18.” [36] The resistancialist myth, which was created by Charles de Gaulle at a time when crisis had been averted and there was national reconciliation, enabled the divisions brought about by the Occupation to be concealed. He celebrated an abstract vision of France, cut off from its historical reality in which those who had participated in the resistance were stripped of their memories so that the struggle of a whole nation united behind its leader could be glorified. [37] The new commemorative function assigned to October 20 might be interpreted as a form of Kenyan resistancialism, in which the glorification of the saga of the national hero celebrates, as though a symbolic process, the struggle for independence experienced by an entire nation.

24In terms of memory, this was expressed by stifling individual memories of the struggle in favor of creating an official metanarrative. This official memory, resolutely amnesic and part of a project of reconciliation, came up against competing memories, frequently embodied by minority or dissident groups. [38] Each of the three major political crises experienced by Kenya between 1963 and 1978 was accompanied by a crisis in terms of memory, where every time the myth of origins was reactivated and exploited in order to counter competing memories and reaffirm the regime’s legitimacy. [39]

25The first tensions in the union government formed by the KANU in May, 1963, appeared a few months after independence. Radical nationalists, such as Bildad Kaggia and J. M. G. Kariuki, were represented within it, as were former Mau Mau generals–Waruhiu Itote for instance–alongside more conservative politicians, sometimes close to loyalist circles, such as Charles Njonjo, Julius Kiano, and Njoroge Mungai. It was also at this time that the first autobiographical accounts written by Mau Mau insurgents were published. [40] They often painted an idealized picture of the struggle for independence carried out in the forests, emphasizing the movement’s principles of equality and social justice as well as its nationalist dimension. These memories of combat were echoed in the demands expressed at that time by villagers, namely, the demand for a greater share in the fruits of independence, especially concerning access to land. The harsh suppression meted out by the government against the popular demonstrations organized in Nairobi between 1963 and 1964 culminated in the political assassination of the radical left-wing leader, Pio Gama Pinto, in February, 1965.

26The following year, in 1966, a number of members belonging the former KADU left the KANU after Odinga Odinga and Bildad Kaggia as a protest against the regime’s descent into a conservative “neo-colonialism,” as they put it. They formed the KPU. The dissidents presented themselves as the heirs to the nationalist struggle, the program of which they defended. The KANU retaliated in kind, giving priority to the Mau Mau legacy (meetings with former soldiers and memory). Jomo Kenyatta chose this moment to publish his memoirs under the title of Suffering without Bitterness: The Founding of The Kenya Nation (1968). The wording of the title and the sub-heading linked the individual experience of suffering and sacrifice to the nation’s destiny. Half of it consisted of reproduced official speeches made between 1963 and 1967, yet this book appeared as the official history of the struggle for Kenyan independence, in which Kenyatta’s activities occupied a central place. [41] The adoption of the memory of independence at the time of this crisis raised the question of the nation’s imaginary boundaries, defined precisely by the myth that had been created at the time of independence. In his speech to the nation made at the occasion of the sixth anniversary of the commemoration of the formation of the first autonomous government (Madaraka Day), on June 1, 1969, Kenyatta vehemently denounced the unrest that was being carried out by a handful of protesters by referring to them as enemies of the nation: “If they are not for nation building, then they are against it.” [42] By defending the unity of a nation being threatened by dissidents, the head of state called to mind the fact that the only acceptable way that conformed to “Kenyan nationalism” was the way espoused by the KANU, the principles of which were recorded in his manifesto published in 1961. After the assassination of the politician Luo Tom Mboya, who had become Kenyatta’s rival, and the subsequent riots in the west of the country, the KADU was once again forbidden. However, in order to reaffirm their unity and the historical legitimacy of Kikuyu power, Kenyatta’s close supporters organized oath-swearing campaigns, pledging unity and loyalty. Echoing the Mau Mau oath-swearing, the revival of these traditional Kikuyu practices established a historical line of descent which started with this period of struggle and resistance, as well as demonstrating a restrictive notion of citizenship, the frontiers of which matched those of the Kikuyu nation–indeed, those of some clans only.

27The third political crisis undergone by the regime during the early 1970s centered round critics of Kenyatta and his management of government as a national heritage. The regime was characterized by its close centralization, in which all the apparatus was narrowly controlled by the president and his close allies (the security forces, the cabinet, parliament, the regional administration, and the one-party apparatus since 1969). Within this political and administrative structure, all posts of any significance were awarded to Kikuyus closely associated with Kenyatta’s clan. [43] It was also this group that benefited the most from land transfers during the –1960s and ‘70s, opening up unprecedented possibilities for the accumulation of economic, social, and political power. [44] This patrimonial power structure and the distribution of state resources nourished a system of vertical patronage relationships guaranteeing a certain stability. However, a significant part of the population remained outside these symbolic and material exchanges.

28Numerous intellectuals and politicians therefore denounced the shift in terms of authority and national heritage, considered by some as a betrayal of the nationalist cause. [45] Before his forced exile to the United States, the Kikuyu writer Ngugi wa Thiong’o endeavored, from his home, to restore the memory of the anonymous soldiers in the forests at the same time as denouncing Kenyatta’s regime. [46] The 1975 political assassination of the populist leader J. M. G. Kariuki, a former Mau Mau prisoner and spokesman for those who had been marginalized by the regime, and the wave of arrests of political opponents that followed revealed, in all its brutality, the repressive and exclusive character of an increasingly personal regime.

29The growing personification of the government was borne out by the celebrations marking ten years of Kenyan independence in which the work of the Father of the Nation was highlighted. The Government Communications Services produced an apologetic film in which Kenyatta was the protagonist: “[The film is] about the President and the people of Kenya and what together they have achieved in a decade of independence, and so we open up with a sequence of the film which deals with the President.” [47]

30The places at which the struggle for independence was commemorated–the Kamunjuki Stadium for instance–were gradually abandoned and replaced by new commemorative locations specifically dedicated to them and associated with the regime. Thus, Kenyatta placed the first stone in the monument to independence erected on December 12, 1973, in Uhuru Gardens in a suburb of Nairobi, and a statue of the president was unveiled on the same day at City Square in the city center. The increase in his public appearances and radio broadcasts also contributed to the omnipresence of the figure of the Father of the Nation, whose charisma and rhetorical talents were universally acclaimed. [48]

31When Jomo Kenyatta died in his sleep on August 22, 1978, it was indeed as the Father of the Nation, whose body was displayed at State House, mourned by his people. However, as Tamarkin has emphasized, he was perhaps less the nation’s Founding Father (the demarcations of which remained nebulous) and more the founder of a regime which outlasted him thanks to the permanence of the myth associated with him. His successor, Daniel Arap Moi, who came from a minority ethnic group, inherited his legitimacy and his political alliances from Kenyatta. The wave of democratic protests of the 1990s, which caused the one-party regimes to fall, also dispelled the myths upon which they were founded.

The Nation’s Renaissance

33In his investiture speech given on December 30, 2002, Mwai Kibaki unveiled a program for the refounding of the nation centred around two main axes, unity in diversity and a split from the Moi regime: “Look around you, see what a gorgeous constellation of stars we are, just look at this dazzling mosaic of people of various ethnic backgrounds, race, creed, sex, age, experience, and social status.” [50] The National Rainbow Coalition (NARC), which won the elections in December 2002, appeared to be a metaphor for the nation, whose political and ethnic diversity it represented. However, the restoration of democratic principles and social contract–a priority for the new government–could be interpreted as a confrontation with the past and a rejection of every form of amnesia: “One would have preferred to overlook some of the all too obvious human errors and forge ahead, but it would be unfair to Kenyans not to raise questions about certain deliberate actions or policies of the past that continue to have grave consequences on the present.” [51]

34In April, 2003, the government considered the establishment of a Truth Justice and Reconciliation Commission (TJRC). This idea had been put forward by a number of organizations in defence of human rights in the context of the “Campaign against Impunity” initiated between early 2001 and the end of the following year. In their report, Makau Mitua, the head of the Kenya Human Rights Commission (KHRC), and Kiraitu Murungi (the Minister of Justice and founder of the KHRC) recommended the establishment of a commission responsible for examining the most common crimes and abuses perpetrated between independence in December, 1963 and the end of the Moi regime in December 2002. The supporters of a transitional justice system, frequently from organizations, which had campaigned for Human Rights and democracy during the nineteen-nineties, considered it to be a crucial step in the reconstruction of the nation: “The past must be confronted, the state must be audited, and the country must be exorcized of the ghosts of the past that still haunt it. Amnesia would simply lead to the certain death and failure of state and society.” [52]

35The government refused, however, to apply these recommendations, which were buried along with the project for constitutional reform and the failure of the Rainbow Coalition. [53] It was only after the post-election violence in January 2008 that a Truth Justice and Reconciliation Commission was established. Current legal hearings are concerned with abuses and crimes committed in Kenya between 1963 and 2008.

The Return of History and Memory

36The principle of a transitional justice system as an instrument of national reconciliation is being used to bring a remedial dimension to historical discourse. This catharsis, which is part of a more universal movement towards democratization, has contributed to the release of individual memories that had, in part, been stifled by official metanarrative. It might be observed that since 2002 there has been an explosion of memories often stimulated by the action of certain groups defining themselves as victims. [54]

37At the time of the national convention organized on October 16 and 17, 2008, in order to prepare the work to be undertaken by the Truth Justice and Reconciliation Commission, a lobby group was formed in the name of “the victims of past and present injustice” so that they could make their voices heard by the Commission. The Kenya National Victims Network, supported by the leading organizations in defence of Human Rights, has brought together a large variety of victim support organizations–The Mau Mau Veterans Association and The Victims of Historical Land Injustices, for example. Their demands have a very wide spectrum exceeding the TJRC’s mandate. The regulation of the property question, the establishment of a Truth and Justice Commission centered on the victims’ causes, and the recognition by the state of crimes and legal violations committed during the colonial and postcolonial periods, as well as compensation for them, might be cited among them. These organizations use the work of the TJRC as a sounding board for their demands, of which some, which are linked to the negotiations for independence, were veiled under the official policy of amnesia. These appeals accord with the approach adopted by certain groups consisting of people with memories, such as the Mau Mau veterans associations that have initiated legal proceedings against the British government so as to obtain recognition and compensation for the crimes committed during the state of emergency. [55]

38This reawakening of memory, which sometimes appears in the guise of particular causes and appeals, is inseparable from the more understated work concerning the demythification of the official history carried out by historians. The first questioning of the myths associated with memory connected with the state of emergency goes back to the 1970s, with the publication of a number of works concentrating on the complexity of the Mau Mau movement and the diversity of those who took part within it. [56] The proliferation in the number of works concerned with the period since the 1980s indicates the importance of heritage at this key moment in the creation of modern Kenya in terms of referents associated with memory [57] and the dynamics of history. [58] The plurality in terms of a historical discourse, which harks back to the diverse nature of the memories associated with independence, [59] has created a discourse shaped by the consequences of elections bringing about political change.

The Return of the Hero

39October 20, when the declaration of the state of emergency of 1952 was commemorated, has been celebrated since 2010 under the name of Heroes’ Day (Mashujaa Day). This change of terminology is symptomatic of the process involving the redefinition of the national imagination. In his inaugural speech at this commemoration, President Kibaki described the new national heroes in these terms: “Mashujaa are men and women who have made a lasting mark in the lives of Kenyans and in the history and development of our country.” [60] The nationalists, women, and politicians of various origins are every bit as much resistance fighters as recognized sports personalities and scientists.

40Mashujaa Day is officially written into the new Constitution adopted as a national celebration on August 27, 2010. It had already figured, however, in the first constitutional project submitted to referendum in 2005. This initiative adheres fully to the new political and memorial dynamic that has been in place since 2002. October 20 will, henceforth, sanction the reconciliation and unity of the nation (these have taken on more of a significance after the post-election violence of 2008), no longer embodied by a single Father of the Nation, but by all the heroes and heroines that have created Kenya. In March, 2007, the Minister of Culture appointed a commission responsible for establishing the criteria enabling them to be identified by relying particularly on research carried out in the country as a whole. [61]

41This reconfiguration of memorial space is also being achieved by means of a new rhetoric concerning the spaces associated with memory. One space in the course of construction will be dedicated henceforth to the nation’s heroes and heroines, namely, Heroes’ Acre in Uhuru Gardens. A statue to Dedan Kimathi, one of the Mount Kenya guerrilla leaders who was executed on February 26, 1957, was erected in the center of Nairobi in February 2007. The official recognition of the memory of one of the heroes in the armed struggle against the colonial government, fifty years after his death, testifies to the process involving the pluralization of memory instituted by the new government. It is through the memory of Kimathi that all the heroes of the Mau Mau struggle are honored, those from Nyeri in particular. Politically speaking, it is for the new president and his clique, who are natives of Nyeri, [62] to establish a symbolic line of memorial descent from a founding period preceding independence, as well as defending the region’s memory and identity against an official memory centered up until this point on Murang’a, the place of origin of Kenyatta’s clan. The homage paid to Dedan Kimathi and the problem of the heroes and heroines appear to be inaugurating a new founding myth:

42

Kenya’s independence was brought about by our Freedom Heroes/Heroines like Kimathi, whose sacrifices should not be seen to have been in vain. … Let us do our Independence Heroes/Heroines proud by embracing a culture of love for one another as our Kapenguria Six heroes, for example, loved one another and struggled for a common purpose “Kenya’s liberation” in spite of their diverse ethnic backgrounds. [63]

43Fifty years after Independence, at the time when Kenya is entering a new phase in its history with the adoption of the second Constitution, we are witnessing the creation of a new national narrative based on the plurality of the memory connected with Independence and the diversity of the contribution made by its heroes. This creation of the national imagination, a creation that is ongoing, emphasizes the predominantly political dimension and function of the founding myths that anchor these narratives.

44The authoritarian and centralized regime, which was created by Jomo Kenyatta and inherited by Daniel Arap Moi, relied on the symbolic figure of the hero in the struggle for independence, a figure that became the Father of the Nation. Similarly, in numerous African countries, the wave of democratization of the 1990s that relied on regime changes made a dent in the myths around which the original regimes were created. Jomo Kenyatta, who is no longer at the heart of the creation of the national imagination, continues however to occupy a central place in the nation’s collective memory, a memory that will be connected henceforth with heroes abandoned by the Jacobin spirit of nationalism of the 1960s. In Kenya, where the regime change was negotiated in 2008 with bitter consequences, the pluralization of the national imagination implemented by the new regime was precisely the product of rival memories inherited from the period of independence. Thus, the defenders of a narrow Kikuyu ethno-nationalism embodied by Kibaki have continued to oppose the representatives of other segments of the nation. The combination of these competing memories, symbolized by the new heroic rhetoric, is at the heart of the creation of a new political myth, henceforth centered around the image of a diverse, but unified nation.