It wasn't just censorship when the Kenyan government blocked the public screening of BBC documentaries to investigate the military's role in killing protesters. It's a convention on protecting decades of history - a silent agreement between the military, the state, the media and the public: the military evades open politics, and in return, no one takes a closer look at what it is doing.

The agreement is now under threat and the rebound is fierce.

The government's unanimous MP accused the BBC of inciting instability and called for a ban on broadcasters' operations in Kenya. The social media campaign was initiated under hashtags like #BBCForchaos, which takes journalism as disruptive. But what is really defending is not national security, but the manicured silence that put Kenyan troops under scrutiny.

Since independence, these decades of silence have been carefully cultivated. Two failed military coups in 1971 and 1982, and the horrible record of military regimes across the continent, instilled an enduring fear of soldiers as political actors. To avoid future rebellions, the continuous government will allow the Army to enjoy a wealth of barracks and feed outside its barracks and headlines. In return, the public, especially the media - look away.

No, no coup.

But behind the scenes, the strength of the Kenyan Defence Force (KDF) is growing. Throughout the 1990s and 2000s, they expanded their capabilities, acquired new hardware, and cultivated myths of discipline and professionalism.

The 2011 Somalia invasion sets KDF apart from the shadows. Now the military has taken the center stage, occupied the banner of patriotic fighters fighting terrorism, and instilled discipline into the famous corrupt civilian public service. Over the next decade, President Uhuru Kenyatta's government appointed retirement and appointed various civilian governance positions as military personnel, including the then head of the defense force. However, as the military's capacity and visibility expanded, public oversight and scrutiny were hardly expanded.

Despite the very public failure after the unwise invasion, this undermines the myth of integrity and ability. The invasion itself initiated a brilliant media shine and soon fell into trouble. After a year of Somalia's port, Kenyan troops were almost immediately involved in a partnership with Al-Shabaab, the enemy they were sent to fight, with smuggled rackets, trafficking of sugar and charcoal. In 2016, at least 140 soldiers were killed in an al-Shabab attack at the KDF base in Kenya’s deadliest battlefield.

When we got home, things were going well. The invasion sparked a wave of terrorism. KDF's criminal and criminal response to the 2013 attack on Westgate Shopping Mall in Nairobi was seriously exposed. Soldiers systematically robbed shopping malls while pretending to fight terrorists. Less than two years later, the military returned to the news again and fell into a reaction to the attacks at the University College of Garissa, which killed 147 people.

In all this, the army reacted with silence and rotation. No public inquiries. No estimate. There is no accountability. Similarly, few people demand accountability when KDF seized a part of Lena Road, the large access to Nairobi, to expand its headquarters, or when its top brass was involved in trying to influence the 2022 presidential election. None of these incidents triggered serious media investigations or political debates about military roles.

Mainstream media in Kenya have largely internalized the terms of the agreement. Defense journalists rarely publish criticism of the military. Compared to independent journalists, many people have more roles as a pipeline of military news reports. In fact, KDF has the right to veto the way it is portrayed.

That's what makes the BBC documentary so dangerous - not because it poses a real threat to stability, but because it undermines the expression of silence. It challenges ideas that the army cannot reach and must suppress the truth of its actions to achieve greater benefits.

But viable democracy cannot be built on fear. Kenya cannot thrive when blocking its most powerful institutions from one of public accountability. If journalists are insulted for telling the truth and the media censors their favor for generals, the line between civilian rule and military impunity is already dangerous.

The real threat to national security is not the BBC. It is a refusal to face the failure and abuse of the army - and the willingness of many to remain silent before them.

Kenya must violate the convention. The military must not only be responsible to its commanders, but also to the people. And the journalism industry must be free to reveal the truth, even if it makes gunmen uncomfortable.

The views expressed in this article are the author's own views and do not necessarily reflect the editorial position of Al Jazeera.