Democracy is never a finished product. It has to be nurtured, questioned, and occasionally defended against forces that quietly erode it from within. That message ran through EU Ambassador to Kenya Andreas Peschke’s inaugural media engagement, where he chose to frame the relationship between Kenya and the European Union not as donor and recipient, or simply as partners in development, but as “partners in democracy.” It was a deliberate choice of words, and perhaps a necessary one at a time when democratic institutions are under strain in many parts of the world. Peschke said the challenges facing democratic systems can no longer be confined to individual countries or regions. They have become shared, interconnected, and increasingly difficult to ignore. In fact, he insisted, the most pressing problems of our time—weakened institutions, shrinking trust, manipulative information environments—do not stop at national borders. They move with extraordinary speed through digital networks and political strategies, often leaving citizens in different countries confused and divided. In his telling, the anxieties that Kenyans may feel about the future of their civic space are not uniquely African, and the worries Europeans have about polarization and public trust are not exclusively European. They are part of a broader moment of democratic stress, one in which familiar safeguards are being tested by new forms of political manipulation and old habits of power. His comments came in response to a question that has become unavoidable in diplomacy: whether the European Union remains committed to human rights and democratic governance when geopolitical tensions and economic interests increasingly shape international relations. Rather than offering a routine assurance, Peschke turned the question around. The real issue, he suggested, is not whether the EU will keep lecturing the world about democracy, but whether democracies everywhere can keep their promises to citizens. There was no hint of triumphalism in his voice, and no suggestion that Europe had solved these puzzles. There was, instead, a quiet recognition that democracy is a common experiment, and that its outcome is uncertain everywhere. And that, he said, is a challenge that Europe and Kenya face together.
The threats, he said, are concrete and recognizable. He identified “shrinking democratic spaces, challenges to democracy, populism and disinformation” among the major dangers confronting democratic systems. “These are big things that challenge the gist of our democracies,” he said. The phrase “the gist” is telling: democracy is not just elections, courts, and constitutions; it is also the shared belief that those institutions can deliver justice and protect freedom. When that belief is undermined, the whole system begins to lose its coherence. Peschke was careful not to single out Kenya. He insisted that the same developments are being experienced in Europe, where elections in EU member states are increasingly marked by disinformation, polarizing rhetoric, and a growing public suspicion of traditional political parties. “We are also facing these challenges in Europe. We have elections in our own countries and we are seeing similar developments,” he said. That admission matters. It moves the conversation away from a familiar pattern in which Western diplomats gently raise concerns about democracy in African countries while ignoring their own domestic troubles, and it opens the door to a more honest relationship. Peschke’s assessment arrives as Kenya’s 2027 election campaigns begin to gather momentum, amid intense debate over the health of civic space, freedom of expression, political participation, and the role of state institutions. The timing is not accidental. Populist leaders often thrive by offering simple answers to complicated problems, and disinformation provides the fuel for those answers to spread. The EU has been working with Kenya on electoral reforms ahead of next year’s polls, but the ambassador made clear that this engagement is not about imposing solutions. Rather, it is about recognizing that both sides are navigating the same turbulent currents. If Europe is honest about its own vulnerabilities, it can offer Kenya not a template, but a conversation—one in which both sides learn by listening.
Outside the embassy conference rooms, however, concerns about Kenya’s democratic trajectory have been growing louder. International and domestic human rights organizations have been documenting what they describe as a steady narrowing of civic space. CIVICUS Monitor, which tracks democratic freedoms around the world, downgraded Kenya’s civic space to “repressed” in December 2024, a label that carries heavy implications for ordinary people. In its 2025 Kenya Watchlist, the organization cited lethal force against protesters, arbitrary arrests, digital surveillance, and intimidation of human rights defenders. Freedom House, meanwhile, rated Kenya “Partly Free” in its 2026 report, giving it 49 out of 100, down from 51 the previous year. That may look like a small decline on paper, but it reflects a real deterioration in political pluralism and freedom of expression. Journalists and human rights defenders, the report found, remain vulnerable to restrictive laws and intimidation. ARTICLE 19, ForumCiv, and Kenya’s National Commission on Human Rights have similarly raised red flags, pointing to police violence, restrictions on protest, digital surveillance, threats against civil society, and a broader erosion of the space in which citizens can organize, speak out, and hold power accountable. Behind these reports are human stories: a young activist who fears being tracked by her own government, a journalist who hesitates before publishing a critical story, a civil society leader whose funding is choked off for reasons that have nothing to do with the impact of her work. The language of ratings and watchlists can feel abstract, but it is built on lived experience. Peschke did not directly challenge these findings; instead, his “partners in democracy” framing suggested a desire to address them in a spirit of solidarity rather than condemnation. Still, the warning is unmistakable. If democratic systems are to survive, they cannot take for granted the small, everyday liberties that make participation possible. A shrinking civic space is not just a problem for activists and journalists; it is a warning sign that the democratic contract is being broken, and that citizens who have lost faith may be tempted to look for answers outside the ballot box. The cumulative effect of these pressures is a public mood that can swing between anger and resignation, and that mood is exactly what disinformation seeks to exploit.
Compounding these pressures is the growing problem of disinformation and fake news. Peschke identified disinformation as one of the major threats to democratic systems, and the evidence in Kenya is sobering. A study by the Institute for Security Studies found that the 2022 elections exposed an emerging “marketplace” for political influence, in which digital entrepreneurs and organized networks could be mobilized to manufacture and amplify political narratives. The Reuters Institute’s 2025 Digital News Report warned that X, WhatsApp, and TikTok had become major sources of information for Kenyans, while state and non-state actors continued to flood digital spaces with disinformation, deepfakes, and manipulated narratives. Freedom House has also found that disinformation surrounding the 2022 election contributed to efforts to undermine confidence in the credibility of the presidential results. This matters especially in the run-up to an election, when the stakes are highest and the margins of misinformation can be most damaging. In practical terms, it means that voters increasingly cannot tell who is telling them the truth. A false rumor can spread across WhatsApp before the official correction is even written. A manipulated video can make a politician appear to say something they never said, and by the time it is debunked, the damage is done. Disinformation does not simply confuse people; it corrodes trust in the entire democratic process. It makes citizens doubt elections, distrust the media, and turn away from civic participation. And because the problem is digital, it does not respect borders. The same platforms that are used to manipulate Kenyan voters are being used in European elections. This is one of the clearest examples of why Peschke’s insistence on shared challenges is more than diplomatic rhetoric—it is a practical recognition that no country can solve this problem alone. The response, he implied, must therefore also be shared: building media literacy, protecting independent journalism, and holding digital platforms accountable are not favors that powerful democracies bestow on weaker ones. They are common projects, necessary for the survival of democratic life everywhere. If citizens cannot agree on basic facts, then every election becomes a battlefield of competing realities, and democracy loses its ability to heal division rather than deepen it.
Peschke also found reason for hope: the growing political engagement of Kenyan youth, particularly the Gen Z generation. Where some observers might see disruptive protests or online activism as a threat to stability, the ambassador sees a sign of democratic health. “I think after all, it’s a good thing that young people become involved,” he said. “For them to take an interest, to get registered and to take responsibility, to want to have a say in the future, it’s a good thing.” This is not a small point. In many European countries, young people are disenchanted with politics; they do not vote, they do not join parties, and they do not see their voices reflected in decisions that affect their lives. Kenya, by contrast, has a young population that is increasingly demanding to be heard. Kenya’s Gen Z has already shown that it is willing to show up, to organize, and to demand answers. The challenge for politicians is to respond to that demand without treating it as a problem to be managed. Youth participation can be uncomfortable for governments, especially when it takes the form of protests against police violence, corruption, or poor governance. But Peschke suggested that discomfort is preferable to apathy. A young person who takes an interest in politics, registers to vote, and participates in public debate is demonstrating a faith in democracy that many older citizens have lost. The EU, he said, is engaging with young people through its programmes and seeking to increase their participation in public affairs. “Because I think after all, young people of today are the leaders of tomorrow,” he added. It was a deliberately hopeful note, but it also carries a challenge: if young people are to remain engaged, they need to see that their participation can actually change things. Otherwise, the energy that is now energizing Kenya’s civic life could easily turn into disillusionment. The ambassador’s comments suggest he understands that youth engagement is not a problem to be managed but a resource to be cultivated. It is, in a sense, the most tangible expression of the “partners in democracy” idea he wants to promote.
Finally, Peschke made clear that the EU’s engagement in Kenya’s democratic journey will be shaped by respect for Kenyan sovereignty. He said the EU would respect Kenya’s sovereignty and the right of Kenyans to make their own democratic choices. He described the diplomatic relationship as one between equals, saying the EU and Kenya should be able to engage each other openly while respecting each other’s sovereignty. That may sound like standard diplomatic language, but it has real meaning in a context where external actors are often accused of imposing their values on African countries. By insisting on equality, Peschke was signaling that the EU does not intend to be a lecturer or a judge. It intends to be a partner. That means acknowledging difficult truths when necessary—including the fact that civic space is under pressure in Kenya—but also recognizing that Kenya has its own agency, its own institutions, and its own capacity to find solutions. It also means being honest about Europe’s own democratic struggles. The ambassador’s inaugural media engagement was not a press conference in which a foreign diplomat delivered a warning from on high. It was an invitation to think together about a shared condition. Democracy will not fail in a single dramatic moment; it fails gradually, through a thousand small erosions of trust and accountability. But it can also be strengthened, through the patient work of citizens who organize, journalists who investigate, young people who vote, and partners who stand with each other not as rivals but as equals. Ultimately, the test of any democracy is not whether it is free from problems, but whether it can confront them openly and renew itself through the participation of its citizens. Peschke’s message, in the end, was simple: Kenya and Europe are in this together. The road to 2027 and beyond will test whether that partnership can be made real, but the first step is to recognize the common stakes and the shared responsibility that come with them. The question is whether both sides will rise to the occasion, not because one owes it to the other, but because both have everything to gain from a democratic future.