Uganda’s president may still be popular, writes Mercedes Sayagues, but ethnic mistrust and corruption are poisoning the country
When the 5Y-ANV Islander plane carrying Lieutenant Colonel Jet Mwebaze crashed in the Rwenzori mountains of southeastern Uganda last month, five lives, a stash of money – said to be US$1-million – and the reputation of the Ugandan People’s Defence Force (UPDF) were lost.
Aboard the plane, without a proper flight manifesto and apparently on a clandestine gold-buying trip to Bunia in north-eastern Congo, were murky international gold dealers – not quite the right company for Mwebaze. He was a respected officer and brother to the army chief of staff, Brigadier James Kazini, who is a key man in Uganda’s military operations in Congo.
The top commander in the Congo is President Yoweri Museveni’s brother, Major General Salim Saleh. Sources in Kampala say the normal army hierarchy was sidelined for Saleh and his handpicked group.
In Kampala on October 16, Saleh was grilled about his growing business empire, allegations of corruption and the war, during a popular talk show on the privately owned Radio Capital.
Towards the end of the show, a piqued Saleh sulked on air, saying he would go into exile in the United States if “such unfair and unprincipled criticism” continued.
Saleh has reason to be angry. On October 12, the Rwandan semi- official newspaper The New Times reported that Saleh and his clique had reduced the UPDF in Congo “to a thieving gang”. It also alleged Saleh took a cut of US$1,5-million in a recent purchase of defective helicopters by the UPDF.
The New Times was responding to an earlier story by the Kampala-based independent daily The Monitor. Returning from rebel- held Kisangani, journalist Kevin Aliro quoted Kazini as saying Rwandan soldiers were “arrogant and undisciplined”.
Saleh flew to Kigali immediately. The next day, top brass of both armies met, under the chairmanship of Ugandan President Yoweri Museveni and Rwandan Vice-President Paul Kagame. Everything was fine, they said. But damage control came too late.
Hardly one day passes without Uganda’s lively media, private or government-owned, uncovering corruption scandals. The watchdog body Transparency International this year ranked Uganda 12th among corrupt countries.
“[We see] our institutions rotting away,” said one interviewer on the Radio Capital talk show.
So far, Museveni remains untouched by accusations of graft. He is still very popular, but war-weary Ugandans openly question why their country remains mired in war with its own rebels and its neighbours.
While many agree the country needs a stable, safe buffer on its border with Congo, the cost is painful. The once buoyant economy, growing at a phenomenal annual 5,5%, is slowing down. Lower prices for agricultural commodities is one reason.
In the past six weeks, the shilling dropped from Sh1 000 to Sh1 300 to the US dollar, despite foreign exchange injections into the market by the Bank of Uganda.
And, in spite of macro-economic growth, the majority of Ugandans are still desperately poor.
At a referendum in 2000, Ugandans will choose between a multi-party system or Museveni’s “democracy without parties”.
Paul K Ssemogerere is the chair of the Democratic Party (DP) – Uganda’s oldest party, set up in 1954. He ran for president against Museveni in 1996 and took 23% of the vote.
“Museveni is fooling the world with his theory that Ugandans are not ready for democracy, that it will fuel sectarianism and ethnic rivalry,” says Ssemogerere. “It is the same argument used to deny blacks and women the vote.”
The DP will boycott the referendum, arguing it is illegitimate to vote on the inherent right of choosing your government. “This explains the agony of Uganda since independence. All regimes have denied people their rights and freedoms,” says Ssemogerere
Forbidden by law to hold rallies in public places, the DP and other parties are unable to unleash “people power”, like Indonesia, the Philippines or Eastern Europe. This makes it an ineffective opposition.
“We can’t do much in a dictatorship. That is our tragedy,” says Ssemogerere.
Since coming into power in 1986, Museveni has put in place a watertight system, underpinned by a well-conceived philosophy, to concentrate and keep power in his hands.
His broad-based National Resistance Movement has become interchangeable with the state – not unlike the ruling party, Zanu-PF, in Zimbabwe.
Politically, both countries have striking similarities: a strong ruling party that has built a de facto one-party state with a democratic facade; a vocal but ineffective opposition; an inconsequential Parliament with a few dissenting MPs; a vibrant print press without much consequence; a mass of citizens not used to exercising their rights.
Zimbabwe’s trade unions are more muscular, its churches and human rights movement more outspoken. But in both countries, the ruling party is deeply entrenched and unwilling to let go.
‘Democracy is not a perfect system, but it is the minimally acceptable way to run a society and accommodate differences,” says David Ouma Balikowa, editor of The Monitor. “It is nonsense to say Ugandans are not ready for democracy.”
Museveni’s refusal to change the system is slowly eroding his popularity. Granted, most Ugandans will agree with Cardinal Emannuel Wamala that his government “is much better than all previous”. His comment refers to Idi Amin and Milton Obote’s reigns of terror between 1971 and 1986.
Museveni has brought relative peace and security, huge flows of foreign aid, macro- economic growth and normality to Uganda. These are no mean achievements. For these, people are thankful.
But increasing numbers are seeing Museveni as “an enlightened, benevolent dictator”, in the words of Ouma Balikowa.
Ugandan media are surprisingly open and critical of the government. At uhuru celebrations on October 9, when, for security reasons, photographers were not allowed to get close to the president, the journalists’ union complained loudly
The Monitor, launched in 1992 and the first newspaper to be computerised and produced in colour, has a circulation of 30 000, slightly under the official New Vision. Yet even its sister paper, the Sunday Vision, can be critical of government.
On the Radio Capital talk show, one of the outspoken interviewers was Winnie Byanyama, director of information for the Movement.
The president is at ease with the press and welcomes questions that challenge him intellectually.
Academics from the respected Makerere University enjoy the freedom to criticise. At a seminar last Friday, lively discussions with MPs and government officials centred on building a democratic culture in Uganda.
“The government allows us to talk as long as there is no action, no impact and no changes,” says Balikowa.
The war in Congo has reignited a discussion internal to Uganda: negotiations with the rebel Lord’s Resistance Army, led by spirit medium Joseph Kony and based in southern Sudan, and the Allied Democratic Front, operating from eastern Congo.
Although Museveni rules out negotiations with the rebels, five ministers were assigned last week to seek a consensus on an amnesty Bill for rebels in war-affected districts. This is to be tabled later this year.
As the war in Congo drags on, it fuels a dark side of Ugandan politics: ethnic paranoia. Many in Kampala, from taxi drivers to staff at the president’s office, whisper that Museveni is at the front of a Tutsi conspiracy to achieve regional hegemony over the Bantu. Museveni’s mother is a Tutsi. He is close to Rwanda’s Kagame and to the Banyamulenge leadership.
“This is a new and dangerous perception,” says Ssemogerere. “As long as it exists, we trust each other less and less. This makes the Tutsi more insecure and they try to grab more power. The only solution is to allow democracy. Only then will people cease to fear each other.”
It would be a sad paradox if Museveni’s hugely positive legacy to Uganda became poisoned by ethnic mistrust and corruption.