STILL raw from the worst act of terrorism on its soil in 15 years, Kenya has rarely appeared more united than when President Uhuru Kenyatta, in an emotional address on September 24th, announced the end of a bloody attack on a showpiece mall in the capital, Nairobi. His soaring rhetoric was given added force by the fact that members of his own family were among the dead. His nephew was killed, the president said, together with his fiancée, when militants from the Shabab, a Somali Islamist group, stormed the Westgate centre three days earlier. His son and sister were inside, too, but managed to get out. This was a transformational moment for the man elected in March despite being under indictment by the International Criminal Court (ICC). Accused of masterminding ethnic clashes that killed at least 1,300 of his countrymen five years ago, he recast himself after the Somali attack as a unifier. His choice of words suggested that he was looking beyond the immediate tragedy to his ICC court appointment in November. "Let no one among us ever be blamed for dividing our people," he said. The president's deputy, William Ruto, also accused of masterminding electoral violence five years ago, was granted an adjournment by the ICC after finding himself in court in The Hague at the time of the attack. He argued that he was needed at home. When Mr Kenyatta's lawyers tried to postpone his trial date for the same reason, they were turned down. The Shabab said it had unleashed terror in Nairobi to avenge Kenyan forces" intervention in neighbouring Somalia. Mr Kenyatta's predecessor sent them across the border in 2011, citing security needs. Shabab militants have long staged cross-border attacks, though none as large as this one. They kidnapped tourists on Kenyan beaches and snatched aid workers from refugee camps near the border. Mr Kenyatta has vowed to continue the military campaign, regardless of recent horrors. Gunmen wrapped in bandoleers of ammunition charged into crowds of Saturday shoppers, firing from the hip and tossing grenades. Some of the worst violence unfolded at the rooftop car park where families had gathered for the filming of a children's cooking programme. Karani Nyamu, a Kenyan engineer, said he hid his two daughters under a car as people around them were killed. They eventually escaped by running into the shopping centre and climbing down a fire escape. Despite many individual acts of heroism, the response from Kenya's security forces was slow and insufficient in the face of ten or more attackers who had studied blueprints, stored caches of weapons in advance and come prepared for a fight. The militants prolonged the standoff by lighting fires, detonating heavy explosives and fighting Kenyan special forces with belt-fed machineguns. In the wake of the destruction and loss of life, Kenya was swamped by an outpouring of worldwide goodwill. The victims came from at least ten countries. The death toll of 67 is expected to rise sharply as emergency services sift the wreckage of the mall, part of which collapsed during the battle. Kenya's Western allies and donors - already unsure how to treat its indicted leaders - will have to tread more carefully still in a country which can legitimately claim it is under threat. Kenya's foreign minister, Amina Mohamed, herself an ethnic Somali, was quick to underline the "global nature" of the attack, saying that several Americans and at least one Briton were among the militants. Other Kenyan and foreign officials have yet to confirm this. During the Kenyan election in March, America and Britain semi-openly opposed Mr Kenyatta's candidacy and later vowed to have no more than "essential" contact with him. "We are on the defensive," admitted a Western ambassador following the attack. It's in the government's interest to maintain at least a light sense of siege. Those arguing that Kenya's importance as a friend in the fight against terror outweighs the need to pursue justice have been strengthened. Anyone asking the West to apply pressure to force Kenya's leaders to attend their trials will find even fewer listeners now. The Shabab killing spree has buoyed the government's standing at home, temporarily papering over ethnic divisions. The president's moving paean to Kenya's unity and tolerance will make it harder for opponents to remind voters of his cynical and divisive election campaign earlier this year. Tens of thousands queued to donate blood; others volunteered to counsel survivors and brought food to an emergency centre for wounded soldiers and hostages. While gunmen separated Muslims and non-Muslims inside the shopping mall, executing the latter, Kenya's social media adopted the Twitter hashtag "we are one" to identify news on the crisis. This was repeated by broadcasters and newspapers. A spokesman for the Somali extremists suggested online that the targeted mall was frequented by "the one percent of the one percent." Most victims indeed came from Kenya's business and political elite, as well as the expatriate and diplomatic community. But this did not diminish popular sympathy and outrage. Callers to radio phone-in programmes popular with ordinary Kenyans said in droves that they were appalled by the violence. Seeing the rich panicked and helpless as their children are gunned down by fanatics at the mall helped to humanise the elite in a capital balkanised by inequality.