Wednesday, March 28, 2012

If Wako Is A Reformer, Then I'm The Pope



E-mailPrintPDF
Share/Save/Bookmark
Now that he is retiring, the immediate former Attorney-General Amos Wako has donned himself in a new cloak. He is no longer Amos Wako, the smiley AG or Amos Wako, the see-no-evil-hear-no-evil ‘guardian angel'. He is Amos Wako, the Reformer. So let us define who a reformer is. The dictionary defines a reformer as "someone who makes changes in an institution in order to improve it."
In politics and social sciences, a reformer is someone who strives to change or improve the status quo for the betterment of society. A reformer is also someone who risks life and limb for others.
Look back, if you will, at Amos Wako’s 20 years as Attorney General of the Republic of Kenya and tell me when, where and how he; one, out of his own initiative pushed for institutional changes, two, went out of his way to change the status quo for the betterment of society and, finally, three, he risked life and limb for others.
There is no denying that the when President Daniel arap Moi tapped on Wako in May 1991 to replace the then lacklustre Mathew Muli as the country's Attorney-General, Wako had all the right credentials. He was a high flying lawyer with a résumé that gave him international clout. He had made partner at the prestigious law firm of Kaplan & Stratton. He spoke the language of Reforms, Human Rights and Democracy. He had served as a rapporteur on various important UN missions.   
Indeed, Wako's résumé and international standing were impeccable. His appointment as Kenya's Attorney-General was heralded as landmark development for the country. He was the real Knight in Shining Armour.
And significantly, Wako’s appointment came spot on at the right time. 1990 had opened the floodgates for worldwide pressure for political reforms. Here in Kenya, President Moi and Kanu—which was the only legalized political party—were under extreme pressure to allow the registration of other political parties creating room for competitive politics.
So the appointment of Wako—a lawyer then with impeccable credentials as a Reformer and Human Rights crusader—appeared to be just what the doctor had ordered for a country that badly needed reforms. Or was it?
But there was one missing element or mismatch in this fairy story. Wako’s appointing authority, President Daniel Toroitich arap Moi, was not known for being lovey dovey with any shade of reformers or getting misty eyed when the ideals of Reforms, Democracy and Human Rights were mentioned in his presence.
So how could President Moi, the antithesis of Reforms, Democracy and Human Rights appoint as his chief legal adviser Amos Wako, then the Crown Prince of Reforms, Democracy and Human Rights? Was it a case of opposites attracting? Or was there something much more fundamental and lethal in Moi’s game plan that we all failed to see at the time?
Well, it did not take long for the real reasons behind President Moi’s appointment of Amos Wako as the country’s AG to become apparent.
In December 1991, President Moi beat a tactical political retreat and conceded to the legalization of other political parties to compete with Kanu.
This happened, not because Amos Wako, who had barely served six months as the country’s AG, had pushed or nudged Moi to change his mind and become a reformer.
Section 2(a) of the Constitution was amended simply because President Moi, being the astute politician that he was, knew he couldn’t stem the tide of change.
Moi had looked at the horizon and realized that he was better off releasing the political pressure valve by legalizing competitive politics but ensuring that he stayed one step ahead. Those who were old enough will recall President Moi taunting the opposition that he had a secret weapon against the opposition.
One of the requisites for preparing for the general elections involved amendments to the National Assembly and Presidential Elections Act. One critical section of the Act stated that political parties would be required to nominate their candidates within a period of “Not LESS than 21 days.”
But when the Act came out of Wako’s office, someone had mischievously changed the words to read “Not MORE than 21 days”. Of course there is a world of difference between “not less” and “not more” than.
The effect of this sneaky amendment was to give Kanu (which was already an established political party with a network of potential candidates countrywide) the advantage off the starting block while the opposition would be left scrambling to come up with credible candidates within the deadline.
Was this an innocent typographical error by Attorney-General Amos Wako? Of course not. And the good old Justice Tom Mbaluto who struck out the amendment said as much. He described it as a mischievous and deliberate attempt by Amos Wako to give Moi and Kanu an advantage in the 1992 elections.
From that moment on, it was clear to those who had eyes to see and ears to hear, what Amos Shitswila Wako’s brief as President Moi’s chief legal adviser was and would be throughout the period he served at Sheria House.
Truth be told, the raison d'être for Wako’s lengthy stay at Sheria House was simply because he was a malleable cog in Moi’s and later Kibaki’s political scheme of things.
As he leaves office, Wako may crave to be seen as a reformer more so because he needs such credentials to boost his chances of becoming the Senator for Busia.
But as the saying goes, it is better to speak the truth and shame the devil. Wako was indeed a reformer when he worked as a partner within the politically safe confines of Kaplan & Stratton and the international arena. But never after that.

No comments:

Post a Comment