Joseph Kony is still alive, ICC confirms

For years, rumours have drifted across northern Uganda that Joseph Kony might already be dead, lost to the same wilderness where he once commanded fear.

But last week, the International Criminal Court poured cold water on those whispers. Kony, the elusive leader of the Lord’s Resistance Army, is still alive. That confirmation came from ICC senior trial lawyer Leonie Von Braun, who told journalists that all the court’s intelligence points to one conclusion.

“I can say that all our information that we hold currently at the moment points to that he is still alive,” she said. “Otherwise, we would also not have proceeded with the confirmation in absentia processes.”

Her remarks reopened old wounds in communities still living with the scars of the LRA’s brutal campaign—mass killings, abductions, sexual slavery, and the uprooting of entire villages.

It has been nearly two decades since the ICC issued an arrest warrant and Interpol placed Kony on its red notice list. Yet he remains a phantom, drifting through remote corners of Central Africa while victims wait for justice that never seems to arrive.

A month ago, the ICC confirmed 39 charges against Kony, including murder, sexual enslavement and rape. But that legal milestone carries a sobering limit: the court cannot move to a full trial unless the suspect is physically before judges in The Hague. Von Braun underlined this reality with a blunt reminder.

“The confirmation of the charge marks actually the end of the in absentia proceeding,” she said.

“We will not have a trial. Only if he gets arrested and handed over and appears before the judges in The Hague—that’s when we will be able to move to the next phase. The judges have made this clear.”

She explained that ICC rules only allow in-absentia hearings for the confirmation of charges, not for a complete trial. That rule, intended to protect defendants’ rights, now sits uneasily with the desperation of northern Ugandan victims who have waited years for closure.

Von Braun insisted that efforts to capture Kony continue, even if the court must rely on partner states rather than its own force.

“The ICC itself does not have a police force or a military force; so, we are working with our partners to see that he is brought into custody,” she said. She declined to name the states involved, saying the information was too sensitive.

“We are working together to finally have him arrested and surrendered.” Part of the challenge, she noted, is geography. Kony is believed to move through remote, loosely governed regions where states have not signed the Rome Statute— the treaty that created the ICC. Without cooperation from those countries, the court’s reach shrinks dramatically.

“That already gives you an indication of why it is difficult to secure his arrest,” she said.

The ICC’s international cooperation adviser, Dahirou Santa-Anna, stressed the historical weight of the case. This is the first time judges have confirmed charges against a suspect who was not in court.

It marks a procedural breakthrough, but also underscores the frustrations of prosecuting a fugitive who has slipped through the cracks for nearly 20 years. Even so, Santa-Anna reminded the public that the judicial process has never been the only path to helping victims.

For more than 15 years, the Trust Fund for Victims has run rehabilitation programmes in northern Uganda, providing physical treatment, psychosocial support, and community rebuilding initiatives.

“There have been rehabilitation activities conducted by the Trust Fund for at least 15 years now in Uganda,” he said. “The efforts did not wait for conviction to take place… before taking a step to provide some sort of assistance to victims in the whole area of northern Uganda.”

In many ways, those quiet programmes— counselling sessions, medical support, and community healing—are the closest thing to justice many survivors have seen. Still, the question hangs in the air: how long must victims wait?

Every new confirmation that Kony is alive brings renewed hope that he might one day face justice. But it also reminds Ugandans of the long shadow he still casts—across borders, across decades, and across a region still learning how to live with the past.