Why President William Ruto’s gesture may redefine both legacy and leadership in Kenya’s political memory
By James Okoth
When President William Samoei Ruto stood before the nation to mourn Raila Amollo Odinga, his voice was unusually steady, his words measured but heavy with emotion: “I could not gamble with the life of my brother Raila Odinga.”
For a country long defined by their fierce political rivalry, that statement stunned and softened even the hardest of hearts. In one stroke, Ruto broke through the hardened shells of partisanship and revealed a leader capable of compassion beyond competition. His decision to accord Raila a full state funeral, the first of its kind in independent Kenya as confirmed by Siaya Governor James Orengo, was not just an act of respect — it was an act of political courage and national healing.
For decades, Ruto and Raila had shared one of Kenya’s most turbulent political relationships — allies turned adversaries, comrades turned competitors. Yet in death, Ruto chose fraternity over feud.
In describing Raila as his “brother,” the President elevated the funeral beyond a partisan farewell to a national moment of reconciliation. It was a symbolic dismantling of the walls that had divided Kenya’s politics for generations — where rivalry too often meant enmity.
By personalising his tribute, Ruto set himself apart from leaders who mourn mechanically. His tone was intimate, his message deliberate: Kenya must learn to outgrow its bitterness.
The Statesman’s Calculation
While Ruto’s gesture was undeniably humane, it was also politically astute. Kenya’s political culture thrives on perception — and in that arena, magnanimity is power.
By presiding over Raila’s full state funeral with solemnity, pomp, and grace, Ruto positioned himself as a unifying national figure, capable of transcending tribal and political divides. It was a scene few would have imagined only years earlier, when the two men faced off in the bitterly contested 2022 election.
This act has effectively reframed Ruto’s image — from a political tactician to a President with emotional intelligence, one willing to reconcile even with his fiercest opponent. In the eyes of many Kenyans, it was a moment of moral leadership rarely seen in our political theatre.
Kenya’s political wounds run deep. Raila’s followers, especially in Nyanza and parts of Nairobi and the Coast, have long viewed state power as a tool of exclusion. Ruto’s decision to honour Raila with the highest possible state recognition disrupted that narrative.
For once, the state and the opposition stood side by side — not in contest, but in ceremony. That symbolism cannot be overstated. It was a visual reconciliation, a gesture that brought together two halves of Kenya’s divided soul.
In political psychology, such gestures often carry more power than policy. They create emotional bridges that legislation cannot. Ruto’s presence in Bondo — standing not as victor, but as mourner — may mark the first genuine attempt at national closure after decades of polarised politics.
The Legacy Within the Legacy
In honouring Raila, Ruto also shaped his own legacy. History will likely record this as one of his defining statesman moments — an act of political generosity that elevated both men.
Every great leader, at some point, must act beyond politics to define their humanity. For Ruto, this was that moment. It will be remembered not only for the military salutes and the marble casket, but for the humility with which he recognised the worth of a man who had once challenged his legitimacy.
It was a declaration that Kenya is greater than its elections — and that leadership, in its truest form, is about empathy even towards rivals.
But beneath the emotion lies strategy. By bridging himself with Raila’s legacy, Ruto may have quietly opened new political pathways — particularly in regions where his influence has historically been thin.
Nyanza’s political landscape, once impenetrably pro-Raila, is now in emotional flux. Ruto’s overtures through empathy, development promises, and visible respect may soften hostility and lay the foundation for a new kind of political dialogue.
This does not mean he will inherit Raila’s base, but it signals a maturing of his national outreach — an effort to govern inclusively rather than electorally.
Still, the move carries risks. Among his own political allies, some may see Ruto’s gesture as politically naïve — a moment that romanticises an adversary instead of consolidating victory. Yet, in the long arc of history, such risks are often the building blocks of greatness.
Ruto’s Balancing Act
What President Ruto achieved in Raila’s funeral was a delicate balancing act — merging humanity with strategy, humility with authority, compassion with control. He allowed the state to honour its most formidable critic, and in doing so, humanised the presidency itself.
It was not just a farewell; it was a statement of vision — that the Kenya he leads must not be one of grudges, but of gratitude.
In the final analysis, William Ruto’s decision to honour Raila Odinga so profoundly may reshape how future presidents treat their rivals — and how history judges their leadership.
He did not just bury an opponent; he buried the culture of political vengeance. And in that act, he may have secured his most enduring victory — not over Raila, but over Kenya’s old politics.
William Ruto’s handling of Raila Odinga’s state funeral revealed the leader behind the politician. It blended empathy, foresight, and reconciliation — a rare trinity in Kenya’s political story. Whether born of genuine brotherhood or strategic brilliance, it was a moment that made Ruto not just President, but statesman.
