Kenya's faux militarism

Kenya doesn't have a history of militarism (that is, the belief or desire of a government or people that a country should maintain a strong military capability and be prepared to use it aggressively to defend or promote national interests) as a national culture like the United States, the United Kingdom, the Russian Federation, India, the People's Republic of China, a broad swathe of South America or Nigeria do. Therefore, while on multiple public polls the people have indicated a fondness for the Kenya Defence Forces, few of them have a firm ideology on the place of the military in the public sphere. This is important when discussing whether or not Kenyans may or may not publish photographs of Kenyan fighting men and women killed in combat or otherwise in the line of duty.

In the United States and in the United Kigdom, where militarism is high, the military is frequently embedded with the civilian population in a variety of ways. Especially in the United States, military bases grow into military towns, and the military-industrial complex is a vital part of the local economy. Norfolk, Virginia, in the United States is vibrant because of the naval base, and the Brecon Beacons in the South Wales thrive economically not only because of the national park but because the  UK military's training programmes in the area, including by the dreaded SAS.

Kenyans have a vague appreciation of Kahawa and Langata Barracks, Lanet Air Force Base, or the Isiolo home of the 78 Tank Battalion. We are more familiar with the British Army Training Unit-Kenya, based in Nanyuki, but only because it is the British Army training in Kenya and all the race-based problems that it entails. Our familiarity with our military is largely restricted to march-pasts on national holidays and carefully curated news stories about the military while on peacekeeping missions for the UN or in combat in Somalia. Few Kenyans are familiar with the military formations, what military equipment they command, their total strength, or the rigours of their training as they are with the details of the US Marines or the Russian Spetsnaz.

Crucially, though, Kenyans cannot lawfully fly the Kenyan flag from their homes in solidarity with their military, as US citizens can and do. Kenya's military is highly respected by foreign powers who have seen it in action, but closer home it has a mixed reputation, to say the least. It has been properly lauded for its exploits in Somalia, especially during the early days of Operation: Linda Nchi, but it is loathed and feared because of its brutality against the civilian population in massacres at Wagalla, West Pokot and Mt Elgon. It is therefore, awkward for calls to is hagiography when so little about it is known, or for calls to be "patriotic" and "loyal" by not publishing disturbing photographs of fallen fighting men and women.

Kenyans remain heavily policed, both by their police forces and their military. The rights and fundamental freedoms enshrined in the Bill of Rights are yet to be embraced by the State int he spirit that they are intended to be celebrated. If Kenyans cannot be free to fly their flag it will be difficult for many of them to celebrate their military's successes or mourn its losses when much about it is secret and secretive, known to a select few? It is the secrets and secrecy that feed the morale-crushing instincts to circulate photographs of the fallen. Unless the no-photos brigade understands and appreciates this, Kenyans will always have a complicated relationship with their military. It will not end well.