Calls for democratic consistency in EAC

The recent denial of entry to Tanzania of former Kenyan Minister of Justice Martha Karua has raised serious questions. Karua had travelled to attend the trial of Tanzanian opposition figure Tundu Lissu. Her struggles, followed by the brief detention of activist Boniface Mwangi at the Namanga border, and the controversial disappearance and reappearance of Uganda’s veteran opposition leader Dr. Kizza Besigye, have stirred growing public unease.

Yet, official silence—especially from Nairobi—has prompted a fundamental question: What does East African solidarity mean in the 21st century?

These incidents are not just troubling for civil society actors and legal observers; they raise more profound concerns about whether the East African Community (EAC) is adhering to its foundational principles as enshrined in the Treaty for the Establishment of the EAC. Key principles are Articles 6(d) and 7(2), which outline the Community’s commitment to democracy, the rule of law, accountability, transparency, and respect for human rights.

Political federation

To grasp the significance of the present, one must revisit the past. The history of East African cooperation is one marked by hope, disruption, and revival. The original East African Community, established in 1967, emerged from earlier colonial-era frameworks such as the East African High Commission (1948–1961) and the East African Common Services Organisation (1961–1967). These institutions harmonised transport, postal services, and higher education among Kenya, Uganda, and Tanzania. The EAC aimed to evolve beyond economic coordination into a more ambitious political federation.

But by the mid-1970s, regional tensions had eroded this vision. Key among these was the ideological divergence between Kenya’s capitalist orientation, Tanzania’s Ujamaa socialism under Mwalimu Julius Nyerere, and Uganda’s increasing instability under Idi Amin. In 1971, Amin seized power through a military coup, overthrowing Milton Obote.

Tanzania, standing firmly on principle, refused to recognise Amin’s junta. In response, diplomatic ties were cut, and hostilities intensified. Amin even laid claims on parts of western Kenya, citing colonial-era boundaries—an act that nearly provoked regional conflict.

Tanzania’s military intervention in 1979 to remove Amin was driven not just by national security interests but by a regional vision of responsible leadership and moral duty. Kenya, while pursuing a neutral policy, was deeply affected by the instability. The original EAC collapsed in 1977, not primarily due to economic failure, but because the ideological and political fault lines among the three founding states had become irreconcilable.

These lessons are salient today. The revived EAC, established in 2000, arose from the ashes of that earlier collapse with renewed commitment.

The Treaty was clear: future integration would be value-based, not merely transactional. Political unity would only thrive where democratic governance, transparency, and mutual accountability were respected across the board.

Signs of trouble

And yet, over two decades later, troubling signs of backsliding have re-emerged. The denial of entry to Karua—who had served in government at the highest levels and travelled in solidarity, not subversion—is emblematic of a deeper policy incoherence.

Similarly, the unexplained brief detention of Boniface Mwangi, an internationally recognised human rights activist, raised legitimate questions. Most unsettling is the account of Dr. Kizza Besigye, who was reportedly taken from Nairobi and surfaced in Ugandan custody under unclear circumstances. These episodes point to a trend that cannot be ignored: the narrowing of civic and political space in the region and the quiet normalisation of cross-border repression.

Kenya, in particular, must reflect on its historical role in regional democratisation. It has often been a sanctuary for freedom seekers, from South African exiles to Sudanese intellectuals. During apartheid and regional wars, Nairobi provided space for diplomacy and dissent alike. More recently, Kenya has hosted peace talks for Somalia and South Sudan. This legacy of principled engagement is what gave Kenya its soft power and moral influence in East Africa.

But that legacy is now at risk. A foreign policy that appears passive—or worse, complicit—when regional partners suppress opposition figures undermines Kenya’s standing. Silence in such cases does not preserve neutrality; it signals abdication of responsibility.

The cost is not only reputational but also institutional. If one state is perceived as ignoring the rights of its neighbours’ citizens, and the others remain mute spectators, then the shared architecture of trust upon which integration rests begins to crack.

Policy responses must therefore be timely and principled. Kenya’s Ministry of Foreign Affairs and relevant regional coordination departments should initiate consultations with counterparts in Tanzania and Uganda to address the growing unease.

These conversations must reaffirm the mutual understanding that regional integration is incompatible with the suppression of fundamental rights.

At the same time, the EAC Secretariat, the East African Court of Justice, and the East African Legislative Assembly must be empowered to provide oversight and mediation in situations where member states appear to be drifting from core commitments.

Such an approach is not confrontational—it is corrective. East Africa cannot afford to return to the ideological dissonance of the 1970s. Back then, Amin’s regime did not just destabilise Uganda; it strained the very fabric of East African cooperation. When Tanzania intervened militarily to oust him, it did so not to expand territory, but to uphold regional stability and dignity. That act, while extraordinary, was driven by a recognition that there are moments when sovereignty cannot shield impunity.

Today’s context is different—but no less urgent. Integration efforts such as the EAC Customs Union, Common Market Protocol, and the planned Political Federation all hinge on trust. Citizens must believe that they can move freely, express freely, and engage across borders without fear of state interference or arbitrary detention.

Growing divisions

Civil society must be viewed as a partner in governance, not an enemy of the state. Without this trust, the East African Community risks becoming a shell—an impressive façade masking growing divisions.

The Treaty is unambiguous in its aspirations. Article 6(d) explicitly lists “good governance including adherence to the principles of democracy, the rule of law, accountability, transparency, social justice, equal opportunities, gender equality, as well as the recognition, promotion and protection of human and peoples’ rights” as foundational. These are not optional values; they are binding commitments.

Ultimately, Kenya and her neighbours must ask: Are we still on the path envisioned by the drafters of the Treaty? Are we building a community of peoples, as the Treaty promises, or merely managing transactional interests between governments? The difference is not semantic—it is existential.

The East African dream remains viable. But it cannot be sustained by infrastructure alone. Roads and railways are meaningless if citizens cannot travel freely and safely.

A customs union is hollow if political cooperation collapses. And no summit communiqué can mask a failure to uphold shared values.
Kenya has the diplomatic, historical, and moral capacity to lead the region toward democratic consistency. Its silence today may purchase temporary calm, but at the cost of long-term cohesion. What the region requires is not defensiveness, but dialogue—not retreat, but reaffirmation of the ideals that gave birth to the Community in the first place. This is a call—not for criticism, but for courage. For the region to remain united, it must remain principled. That is the enduring lesson of our history. And it is the imperative of our future.

The writer is a History Lecturer & UASU Chapter Trustee, Alupe University-Kenya

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