How Ochuka’s 1982 coup attempt changed Kenya

By crushing Ochuka’s coup attempt, the Kenya Army almost certainly saved the country the familiar African story of coups and counter-coups and set the country on course to change its governments only through elections. And for its part, the military established for itself a reputation of being professional, meaning being apolitical and subservient to civilian authority. Kenya thus placed itself in the column of democratic countries, but the jury is out about how well it has fared.

In his study of the world’s democracies, Mancur Olson coined the term “distributive coalitions”. In his seminal book, Rise and Decline of Nations, Olson describes distributive coalitions as interest groups that continuously accumulate more and more power and soon become powerful enough to capture political institutions. When that is accomplished, they work for themselves and not the public good. At that point, the country gets into a state of political decay, and it gets worse by the day.

He also says there is no solution to this problem; no democracy can fix this problem once distributive coalitions capture the system. It is solved in one of only two ways: a revolution or an external shock, such as a war. Short of that, there is no way to break out of it.

In September 2019, many people were aghast when the former Israeli Ambassador to Kenya, Noah Gendler, publicly announced that he had requested to be recalled home after only two years on the job because he saw no use in serving in a country where the government was hostage to faceless powers who operated outside the established government system.

He said: “In the history of Israel, no government-to-government development project has ever failed. I am talking about the Galana-Kulalu irrigation project. It is the first ever to fail in the history of Israel”.

Political decay

Have powerful interest groups – to use the correct Kenyan term, have cartels – captured the Kenyan state? If so, can the country correctly be described as being in a state of political decay?

Another problem Kenya faces is that the institutions that should act as the bulwarks of public good are the very ones that are millstones around its neck. Civil society, for example, should be a driver of public accountability. It has been held up as the panacea for our problems, a counterweight to corrupt government. But civil society is the most fertile ground for the breeding of distributive coalitions – or cartels.

As a matter of fact, civil society that is committed to keeping the government in check, is totally motivated by public good, and is ethical and transparent in its dealings, has become something of a rarity in the country.

Finally, all political problems in Kenya have become judicial ones. Nothing can get done without going through an indeterminate process of public participation, legislation, lawsuits and counter lawsuits. Even to build just a small market or a footbridge over a stream can take years to accomplish. And all this time, cartels are… yes, you said it, eating.

How are taxes serving the people of Kenya today? And how were they serving them when the first General Election after independence was held in 1969? What would a graph of service delivery to the public between these two periods look like?

German ruler

When Erick Honnecker, the last East German communist ruler, died, a perceptive West German commentator remarked of the slightly built dictator: “Erick Honnecker was himself just a small man but his misdeeds are going to keep us busy trying to undo for generations to come”.

Hezekiah Ochuka was a poorly educated, low-ranking non-commissioned officer of the Kenya Air Force who, with better luck, might have pulled off a Samuel Doe, an Idi Amin, a Jean-Bedel Bokassa or a Mobutu Sese Seko. A Captain Thomas Sankara? Not by the clues he dropped.

But he changed Kenya, even if way differently from the script he had written. His failure kept the Kenyan soldier in the barracks and made the lawyer king in our public affairs. Now you’ll hear people who never went to law school quoting sub-sections of the law to make mundane points in social settings. It can get very heavy going.

God will help us.

When he realised that his ill-conceived and even more incompetently executed plan to take over the government of Kenya had become a hopeless failure, Ochuka activated Plan B — escape. He tricked his fellow conspirators into believing that he was going to Laikipia Air Base in Nanyuki to fetch reinforcements. To this, his men readily agreed.

He would go there with his trusted number two, Pancras Oteyo Okumu. Then he put a gun to the head of a pilot, an officer of the rank of Major named Nick ole Leshan, who flew Buffalo transport planes. Leshan was in the company of another officer, Major William Marende, a fighter pilot. Marende had never flown Buffalos and was only a very competent passenger, but most important a cherished companion in distressed times.

Took off

With Leshan at the controls, captors and captives took off. But as soon as they were airborne, Ochuka ordered Leshan, a future Air Force Commander, to change course for Dar es Salaam, Tanzania. Dar was a safe destination, he thought, because it was Kenya’s enemy at the time. Looking at the levels of his tanks, a horrified Leshan told the gunman that they didn’t have enough fuel to reach Dar. But a very mellow Ochuka told him: “Afande, Mungu atatusaidia (“Sir, God will help us.”)”.

The irony of a hijacker addressing his captive as “Sir” didn’t escape Leshan. But he was too busy to say anything else. God, nonetheless, helped as Ochuka had prayed, because they got to Dar.

A completely exhausted Leshan would later say he briefly passed out as soon as he landed the aircraft and brought its wheels to a complete stop. Kenya and Tanzania closed ranks and the two hijackers were repatriated to the country to face justice. But the effects of what they did is still keeping us busy and will continue to do so for generations to come.

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