Last Tuesday morning, the police raided Nakasero mosque in Kampala and seized men, machines and money – the latest page in a chapter on strained relations between Muslims and the Museveni government.
For Makerere University PhD student YUSUF SERUNKUMA, this brings memories of events of the 1970s, a time of strained relations between a Muslim-led government and the Christian community.
The excerpt below is composed of selections from Olara Otunnu’s book, Archbishop Janani Luwum: The Life and Witness of a 20th Century Martyr.
I seek to reproduce it verbatim so as to illuminate the assault on Nakasero Mosque on 27 December 2016 because the events actually follow a similar script. With slight adjustments of context and characters, the story reads exactly like one plucked from the 1977 dictatorship and inserted into a 2016 democracy.
There are two lessons I seek to draw from this excerpt: Firstly, while Amin molested the Archbishop’s residence for alleged possession of arms, other religious denominations were regrettably silent.
Perhaps because Amin was Muslim, and Muslims saw their reality tied to that of the president—not their Ugandan compatriots’. The script seems to be playing out again as Christians of all denominations do not see the suffering of Muslims as a national problem.
Secondly, with Amin’s government overthrown two years later, historians have argued that the raid and assassination of this top Anglican cleric (many Muslim clerics continue to be assassinated), to a good degree, contributed to a surge of anti-regime sentiment and eventual overthrow.
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On 5 February 1977, government operatives went with Ben Ongom to the Archbishop’s house, roused his entire family from sleep and searched his house for arms. It was an hour after midnight.
Ben Ongom, handcuffed and visibly battered, went over his script that suggested that together with Janani Luwum they had brought arms into the country. The entire incident was ugly: for over two hours, the Archbishop and his family were molested.
Janani Luwum was jabbed with gun butts, shoveled and pushed around; they woke up his wife, Mary and stepped on their bed to search the ceiling. They searched everywhere arousing almost everybody in the Archbishop’s house. They found nothing.
This was the beginning of a tragedy, one that the Archbishop sailed through unwaveringly. At that darkest hour, St Luwum steered clear of divisive politics and remained true to his saintly calling: A pursuit of justice, peace, forgiveness and tranquility.
In a diary entry of the events, Janani Luwum recalled his response when tribal politics was being pushed down his throat: “I did not come to Namirembe for the Acholi or Lango but I was the Archbishop of Uganda, Rwanda, Burundi and Boga-Zaire and there are no arms in my house. Our house was God’s house. We pray for the president. We pray for the security forces – whatever they do. We preach the gospel and pray for others. That is our work, not keeping arms.”
The gravity of the assault called for an impromptu meeting of all bishops the following day. It had never happened in the life of the church that its topmost leader would be molested this far.
On February 8, the bishops wrote to President Amin registering their displeasure over these despicable events. They were polite and unassuming. Ironically, this humble letter instead incensed Idi Amin. He felt his power was being challenged. When this letter was published in London, Amin was even more aggrieved. Events were running rather too fast…
On February 15, a memo went out to all government employees inviting them to Kampala International Conference center for a “very important event.” No agenda was announced.
It turned out to be a kangaroo court where President Amin went public on his charges with the bishop – trying to overthrow his government. Paraded alongside the real conspirators – Ben Ongom, John Leji Olobo and Abudalla Anyuru – the state argued that these people had contacts with Milton Obote and had even smuggled guns into the country. Anyuru, and Leji Olobo were made to read fabricated documents attesting to this allegation.
Other documents were read implicating military officers and ministers as having been involved in the same plot. Although nothing had been found at the Archbishop’s residence, there was a cache of arms on display as evidence.
After all the drama and tense atmosphere, Vice President Mustafa Adrisi, who had presided over the trial, asked: “What should we do with these traitors?”
“Kill them!” the soldiers shouted back.
This question was asked three times, and the response was the same…Interestingly, as this entire drama unfolded, the archbishop remained steadfast and true to his innocence. He often smiled as this fiasco unfolded, and kept a composed and calm demeanor.