The cure for personalised power cannot be another indispensable strongman. Uganda’s path beyond the Museveni era must be anchored in civilian supremacy and institutional resilience, not dynastic succession.
A few days ago, I wrote in The Observer under the headline “Gen. Muhoozi, Please Keep Off the Press”, responding to his reported warning to the newspaper: “Observer is Ssemujju’s newspaper, isn’t it? Let me see how they behave.”
My point then was narrow: a serving Chief of Defence Forces (CDF) should not use the weight of his office to intimidate the press. Powerful actors must learn to live with institutions they cannot command.
That episode, however, connects directly to a much larger proposition advanced by Yusuf Serunkuma in “Gen. Muhoozi’s Place in the Ongoing Transition.”
Serunkuma argues that Uganda’s highly personalised political order makes Gen. Muhoozi Kainerugaba’s “texture” useful, perhaps even necessary, to manage the transition from President Museveni. He acknowledges Muhoozi’s autocratic displays but contends that Uganda needs him for a peaceful, gradual transition.
My concern is not to substitute one political preference for another, but to question the assumption that because Uganda faces a difficult transition, Muhoozi is therefore the only realistic choice for stability. That is a very large constitutional leap.
The Problem of Personalised Power
Serunkuma’s starting point is understandable. After four decades of President Museveni’s rule, political authority has become heavily concentrated around the presidency. A sudden disappearance of that political centre could create uncertainty.
But there is a crucial distinction between recognising a difficult transition and predetermining its destination.
If Uganda’s problem is excessive personalisation of political power, proposing another individual as indispensable to the transition risks reproducing the very architecture that needs to be dismantled. If the cure for personalised power is another indispensable man, what exactly has been cured?
The issue is not simply whether Muhoozi is personally capable of exercising political authority. It is whether Uganda should continue organising its political future around powerful individuals or begin rebuilding institutions capable of managing change without depending upon an indispensable person.
Momentum Is Not Constitutional Legitimacy
Serunkuma asks Ugandans to regard Muhoozi’s political rise as a reality to which the country must adjust. But political momentum is not a constitutional category.
Muhoozi’s public record raises serious questions about his relationship with institutions meant to restrain power. He has dismissed Members of Parliament as “clowns”, resisted parliamentary summons, disrupted judicial processes, expressed hostility towards a free press, and declared that Robert Kyagulanyi (Bobi Wine) would not be allowed to contest elections again.
These are not merely questions of temperament. Parliament is not an inconvenience to be ignored. Courts are not subordinate offices whose authority depends upon military approval. The press is not subject to a commander’s permission.
And the right to contest an election is not a privilege that can be withdrawn by declaration. There is a profound difference between possessing the power to control political conflict and possessing the constitutional authority to resolve it.
General Kahinda Otafiire’s recent intervention illustrates the point. Speaking in Parliament, he warned against violence as a means of resolving political problems, noting that the greatest generals resolve issues without firing a bullet. Muhoozi subsequently demanded a public apology from Otafiire under threat of deadlines.
Whatever one’s interpretation of that confrontation, it raises a fundamental question: is the leadership Uganda needs during a transition based on the ability to command, or the ability to tolerate disagreement and resolve it without coercion?
Is Muhoozi Even an Inevitable Choice?
There are reasons to be cautious about treating the Muhoozi succession as settled, even within the ruling establishment.
NRM Secretary General Richard Todwong has distinguished individual expressions of support from the official position of the party, stating that the NRM has its own roadmap and invoking the formulation that the issue is “not about who, but what is to be done.”
If the ruling party itself does not equate the present endorsement campaign with a settled decision on succession, on what basis should the rest of the country be told that Muhoozi is the only route to peace?
Consider also Minister Lydia Wanyoto’s reported question in Cabinet asking President Museveni to clarify his position on the endorsement campaign. The President reportedly offered no answer and moved on to other business.
While this does not establish what the President ultimately wants, it demonstrates that the succession question remains sufficiently open to be raised at the highest levels of government.
An endorsement campaign is not a constitutional succession. Neither is political momentum.
Why Decide in 2026 Who Should Lead in 2031?
There is also a basic democratic problem with the present campaign. Ugandans have barely completed one electoral cycle, yet a nationwide mobilisation is already seeking to bind the country to a particular presidential candidate for an election five years away.
Elections exist partly because circumstances change. Candidates develop, new candidates emerge, and the electorate changes its mind. A candidate is not a finished political product five years before an election.
Furthermore, if one candidate is permitted to mobilise nationally for five years while potential competitors are expected to wait for the formal electoral period, the playing field becomes uneven long before the ballot is cast. The constitutional choice belongs to the electorate when the election arrives, not years in advance.
The Military Cannot Become the Succession Mechanism
The deeper problem is what happens when the military hierarchy becomes intertwined with presidential succession. Uganda’s constitutional settlement deliberately places the armed forces outside partisan political competition.
Its practical implication is simple: the Army may protect a constitutional transition, but it cannot become the mechanism by which the destination of that transition is determined.
A serving CDF who is simultaneously at the centre of a nationwide presidential mobilisation presents a constitutional crisis that cannot be dismissed as political realism.
The issue is whether military power and political succession can safely become intertwined without undermining the professional neutrality that allows the armed forces to serve the Republic rather than an individual political project. A project justified in the name of preventing instability could, if the distinction between military authority and political power is eroded, create new sources of instability within the very security forces upon which national security depends.
The Real Transition
None of this means Uganda should ignore the possibility of a difficult transition. On the contrary, it means we must think more imaginatively about it.
Efforts associated with General Salim Saleh to lower political temperatures, alongside potential movement towards the release of Dr Kizza Besigye and political cooperation involving figures like Latif Ssebaggala and Mubarak Munyagwa, demonstrate that political accommodation is possible without declaring one individual indispensable.
Even if a retired military figure like Salim Saleh were involved in transitional dialogues, his authority would still have to derive from the Constitution. Uganda is not a family estate.
Serunkuma is right about one thing: Uganda cannot afford to leave the transition from the Museveni era to chance. But the answer cannot be to identify the next person powerful enough to keep everyone else in line.
The transition Uganda needs is not from Museveni to Muhoozi. It is from personalised power to institutional power; from political security built around individuals to constitutional security built around institutions.
The Constitution should manage the transition. Institutions should protect it. The military should remain professional and politically neutral. Political opponents should be able to compete without intimidation, and the press should scrutinise power without fear.
The true test of a successful transition is not whether we find another man strong enough to hold the country together. It is whether we finally build a Republic strong enough to hold itself together.
The transition Uganda needs is constitutional, not militarised.
The writer is a senior advocate and a former Minister.