For a fleeting moment last year, Nairobi was Washington’s darling. In a rarity for an African leader, President William Ruto was honored at the White House, and Kenya was designated a Major Non-NATO Ally (MNNA), the first in sub-Saharan Africa.
It was the capstone of a transactional bargain: Kenya would serve as America’s anchor state in a turbulent region, providing peacekeepers for Haiti and a stable partner against a backdrop of coups and Chinese and Russian encroachment in Africa. In return, Nairobi would receive security assistance, and a powerful friend in Washington.
Just over a year later, that bargain lies in tatters. The first invoice for its failure has arrived in the form of an amendment to the National Defense Authorization Act (NDAA) submitted recently by Sen. James Risch, the top Republican on the Senate Foreign Relations Committee,calling for a formal review of Kenya’s prized MNNA status.
The rationale, according to the amendment, is a devastating catalogue of Nairobi's recent transgressions: its dubious ties with "nonstate armed groups and violent extremist organizations, including the Rapid Support Forces and al-Shabaab," its role as a "financial safe haven" for sanctioned entities, its deepening security and economic entanglement with China, and its use of "United States security assistance" for "abductions, torture, renditions, and violence against civilians."
Kenya’s descent has been swift and self-inflicted. Historically, Kenya built its foreign policy on the soft power of mediation. Nairobi was the indispensable venue where peace deals for Somalia and Sudan were hammered out two decades ago, It was a stable anchor in a volatile neighborhood. Under Ruto, this reputation has been tarnished.
The most calamitous blunder has been in Sudan. In February 2025, while the country burned, Nairobi played host to the leaders of the Rapid Support Forces (RSF) as they signed a charter to form a parallel government. Kenya’s foreign ministry framed the effort as a step towards peace-building, but the Sudanese government, led by the army, furiously recalled its ambassador, branded Kenya a "rogue state," and banned all imports from the country, a significant economic blow.
To make matters worse for Ruto, his own former deputy president, Rigathi Gachagua, publicly accused him of having a "business" relationship with the RSF leader, Mohamed Hamdan “Hemedti” Dagalo, alleging that Kenya was being used to launder Sudanese gold to fund the RSF’s war machine.
Whether true or not, the perception of a private deal overriding principled foreign policy was cemented. The African Union recently warned against the "fragmentation of Sudan" and implicitly condemned Nairobi’s role in providing a platform for the paramilitary group.
A similar pattern emerged in the Democratic Republic of Congo. In late 2023, Nairobi hosted leaders of the M23 rebel group, which is backed by Rwanda and has terrorized eastern Congo. The move infuriated Kinshasa, which refused to accredit Kenya’s ambassador and accused Ruto of "supporting Rwanda." The peace initiative was ultimately seized by the United States and Qatar, who brokered a resource-driven deal, leaving Nairobi irrelevant in a crisis in its own neighborhood.
Ruto’s foreign policy misadventures cannot be divorced from the collapsing political bargain at home. The "Hustler Nation" narrative that swept him to power in 2022 on a tide of populist promises has evaporated, replaced by the grim reality of IMF-mandated austerity. The government’s attempt to ram through a finance bill laden with taxes on basic goods ignited a youth-led uprising — the "Gen Z protests" — that has shaken the foundations of the state.
The state's response has been brutal, fulfilling the darkest premonitions about Ruto’s authoritarian tendencies. Security forces have met peaceful protesters with live rounds, abductions, and torture. This is the domestic context for the Risch amendment’s concern about the misuse of U.S. security assistance.
The Biden administration’s embrace of Ruto was a calculated risk. Facing a wave of anti-Western coups in the Sahel and China’s expanding influence, Washington needed a reliable partner. Ruto, an astute political operator, played his part brilliantly, offering up police for the U.S.-backed Haiti mission and positioning himself as a key interlocutor on climate and regional security. The MNNA designation was his reward.
But the arrival of the Trump administration, and the Risch amendment, signals a fundamental shift in how Washington calculates its interests. U.S. Secretary of State Marco Rubio abruptly canceled a planned visit to Nairobi earlier this year, a clear diplomatic snub that came shortly after Ruto’s visit to Beijing and as Washington began quietly cutting aid programs.
Indeed, the amendment is a checklist of how Kenya has failed its end of the transactional bargain.
First, Kenya has cozied up to America’s adversaries. President Ruto, for his part, has defended the relationship, insisting that it is aimed at securing vital export markets rather than signalling strategic realignment. This distinction, however, has not ameliorated concerns in Washington. Ruto’s speech in Beijing, where he declared Kenya and China "co-architects of a new world order," was viewed in Washington as a slap in the face. Sen. Risch entered the full text of that speech into the congressional record, sending a clear message: you cannot be a Major Non-NATO Ally and a "co-architect" with Beijing.
Second, Kenya is undermining U.S. security objectives. By providing a platform and alleged financial services to the RSF — accused by the United States of genocide and had ties to Russia's Wagner mercenaries — Nairobi is not just meddling in a civil war, but is working against U.S. policy of weakening Wagner (and its successor, the Africa Corps) and ending the war in Sudan.
Additionally, the Risch amendment demands an inquiry into official ties with Al-Shabaab. Weaponizing long-standing concerns — acknowledged by the U.S. State Department — about the deep-seated corruption within Kenya’s security apparatus that allows individual officials to profit from the very smuggling networks that finance Al-Shabaab. More recently, the U.S. Treasury identified and sanctioned a Kenya-based financial network as a crucial hub for laundering Al-Shabaab funds.
Substantively, Risch’s proposal is compelling because it neatly bridges the partisan divide, crafted to appeal to Republican anxieties about Chinese and Russian influence in Africa while simultaneously satisfying traditional Democratic demands for accountability on human rights and the misuse of U.S. security aid.
Moreover, the amendment is structured as a review, not an immediate punishment. It doesn't revoke Kenya's status or cut off aid; it simply mandates a report. This presents a much lower bar for passage, allowing skeptical lawmakers to support it as a call for greater oversight.
This political potency is amplified by the legislative vehicle to which it is attached. The law itself, the NDAA, is the annual bill that authorizes the budget and sets the policies for the U.S. Department of Defense. For over six consecutive decades, Congress has passed the NDAA, creating a powerful institutional momentum that transcends partisan divides.
Consequently, the initiation of a formal review seems more a question of when than if. The final determination will rest not only on the assessment by key figures in the administration, but critically, on whether President Ruto's government can credibly address Washington’s concerns before a verdict is rendered.
