ADVERT 
Rigathi Gachagua is digging in—not retreating. And in doing so, the embattled former Deputy President appears to be dusting off a familiar Kenyan political script: the UhuRuto ICC playbook.
Cornered by legal setbacks and a bruising impeachment, Gachagua has chosen defiance over silence—mirroring the strategy that propelled Uhuru Kenyatta and William Ruto from the shadow of The Hague to State House in 2013.
At the height of their International Criminal Court cases, Kenyatta and Ruto flipped the narrative—casting themselves as victims of external and political machinations, rallying ethnic bases, and converting legal jeopardy into electoral momentum.
Gachagua is now treading a strikingly similar path.
Rather than fade from the scene, he is reframing his impeachment as political persecution, energising his Mt Kenya support base, and positioning himself as a casualty of high-level power struggles. The messaging is deliberate: this is not an end, but a fight.
From public statements to behind-the-scenes mobilisation, Gachagua’s approach reflects a calculated refusal to cede ground. Allies are consolidating regional support, while his camp leans into a narrative of betrayal and resistance—hallmarks of the ICC-era playbook.
It is a strategy built on three pillars: victimhood, identity, and resilience.
And it is already resonating in pockets of Central Kenya, where political loyalty often intertwines with regional identity.
But 2026 is not 2013.
Unlike Kenyatta and Ruto, who wielded state machinery and a united political front, Gachagua finds himself isolated from the centre of power. His fallout with President Ruto has left him navigating a far more hostile political terrain.
There is also a more restless electorate to contend with—one increasingly driven by economic realities, youth activism, and shifting alliances that do not always follow traditional ethnic lines.
Gachagua’s gamble is as bold as it is risky: that political defiance can outweigh legal defeat, and that a well-crafted narrative can rebuild relevance from the outside.
He is betting on time, public sentiment, and the enduring power of political reinvention.
History suggests the playbook can work.
But whether Gachagua can replicate the UhuRuto miracle—or becomes a cautionary tale of its limits—remains to be seen.
One thing, however, is beyond doubt: he is not backing down. And in Kenya’s high-stakes political arena, that alone keeps him firmly in contention.
