The tactics of political maneuvering are universal. From Washington to Nairobi, the gravitational pull of power reshapes even the strongest alliances. We are currently witnessing a peculiar, globally symbolic dynamic between two titans in their respective fields—Donald Trump, the former U.S. President, and Elon Musk, the mercurial tech mogul. Their relationship, once seemingly rooted in mutual admiration, has grown icy and unpredictable. And if it feels familiar, it’s because we’ve seen it before—right here in Kenya.
Whether it’s Trump and Musk or Uhuru and Ruto, these “bromances” follow a pattern: convenience, collaboration, conflict. The drama may differ, but the script remains largely the same.
The Trump-Musk Fallout: Ego Meets Ideology
At first glance, Trump and Musk appeared to be ideological allies—both disruptors, both defiant of the establishment, and both worshipped by fervent online bases. Musk’s acquisition of Twitter (now X) and his self-declared status as a “free speech absolutist” seemed like a match made in libertarian heaven. Musk even reinstated Trump’s banned account, honoring his principles and signaling openness.
But then came the shift.
Trump, ever brand-conscious, refused to rejoin Twitter, clinging to his own Truth Social platform. Musk’s views—often libertarian and contrarian—started to clash with the nationalist tone of Trump’s base. The disagreements moved from backstage whispers to public showdowns on X, with jabs about political endorsements, global crises, and moderation policies. The takeaway? A shared enemy isn’t enough to sustain a political friendship when ambition and ideology diverge.
Kenya’s Mirror: UhuRuto, Rigathi & the Cost of Ambition
We don’t need to look across the Atlantic to recognize this dynamic. Kenya’s political history is a cautionary tale of alliances turned sour.
The “UhuRuto” alliance was, for a time, the gold standard of unity in adversity. Bonded by shared charges at the International Criminal Court and a strategic campaign message of digital rejuvenation, Uhuru Kenyatta and William Ruto were inseparable. But power changes people—and priorities.
As Uhuru’s second term drew to a close, and questions about succession grew louder, cracks formed. Competing visions, rival camps, and eventual betrayals turned a brotherhood into a cold war. The public divorce was messy but predictable. Political friendships, no matter how tightly woven, rarely survive the question: who next?
Today, we’re watching another potential unraveling unfold—this time between President Ruto and his former Deputy, Rigathi Gachagua. Though they shared a campaign trail and victory, friction has crept into their relationship. Public statements, veiled barbs, and shifting responsibilities suggest a familiar dance of suspicion and jostling for relevance.
Even Ruto’s earlier bond with Kithure Kindiki—a loyal foot soldier during the campaign and a top contender for Deputy President—has cooled. Despite his appointment to the influential Interior Ministry, Kindiki’s profile has dimmed, raising questions about how loyalty is rewarded—or punished—in Kenyan politics.
Power Is the Only Permanent Friend
Across borders, one truth remains: political friendships are conditional.
They are rarely built on shared values. Instead, they’re forged in fire—of elections, of mutual threats, of calculated ambition. And once that fire cools, so too does the bond.
What ends them?
- The pursuit of higher office: As leaders rise, so do their ambitions. Today’s deputy wants to be tomorrow’s president.
- The public stage: Disagreements that could be resolved privately are magnified in front of cameras and headlines.
- The ego trap: Few powerful people know how to share power—or the spotlight.
- The transactional nature of politics: Once the goal is achieved, the friendship often becomes expendable.
Trump and Musk, Uhuru and Ruto, Ruto and Gachagua—the stories may vary, but the outcomes rarely do. Political friendships are not love stories. They are chess moves. And when the board shifts, so do the alliances.
