Dear reader, I wish you a most meaningful and fulfilling 2024. I hesitate to refer to happiness, because that sentiment might not be one which truly captures the reality of life – or the uncertainty of the future.
There is no telling what the year will bring. Indeed, for some, it has already brought suffering, and even death. No doubt, like previous ones, 2024 will have its combination of joys and sorrows – personal, national and global. These are the realities of life – and it is this holistic experience that makes life meaningful.
We take pleasure from it when we can; but suffering and pain are also important, in so far as they help to keep us humble, and grounded. As St Paul notes in 2 Corinthians 12:7 ‘Therefore, in order to keep me from becoming conceited, I was given a thorn in my flesh … to torment me.’
The trials and tribulations of life remind us of our frailty, our vulnerability – of the finite nature of our existence. Life’s pleasures are the more meaningful because of its pains. Life itself is that much more meaningful because it is ends.
And it is here that the continuing tragedy of Uganda’s contemporary governance appears to lie. One of our most significant misfortunes is that we continue to be led by persons who are either unaware, or are unduly fearful, of their own mortality. This expresses itself in President Yoweri Kaguta Museveni’s commitment to a spartan diet and a rigorous exercise regimen; and his warnings against consumption of alcohol and what he refers to as ‘recklessness’ in one’s personal life.
Evidently, some of these are logical, perhaps even positive, measures and exhortations. However, they also reveal a somewhat pathological obsession with the extension of his own life, which would not be unduly problematic if it were not linked to his perceived indispensability as the ‘guardian’ of Uganda – and Ugandans.
Thus, while at some point the president acknowledged the exigencies of biology, this concession to scientific restraint seems to have been consequently abandoned. In an interview with NTV’s Patrick Kamara in May 2012, he had noted: ‘I think after 75 … the vigour … I think there is some scientific idea there. That maybe the vigour is not as much after 75 years …. So, that one, I would not quarrel with so much … I think if you want very active leaders, it is good to have the ones below 75.’
When specifically pressed by Mr. Kamara as to whether he was saying he would not remain in office beyond the constitutional limit of 75 years of age, the president assured the country that this terrible idea would not cross his mind, saying emphatically: ‘Not at all. Certainly not … I would not. Because that is in the Constitution now and I would not say … lift that. I would not involve myself in wanting to change that. Because I think that there is some scientific logic behind it.’
Sadly, a few years later, in 2017, the love of power proved to be greater than the acknowledgment of scientific or specifically, biological, fact – and Article 102 (b) of the Constitution was amended to make room for a life presidency. No doubt, if it were possible to amend the ‘death limit’, the president and his handlers who do all in their power to effect this.
Nonetheless, as it is, Article 109 (1) of the Constitution still reads, simply: ‘If the President dies, resigns, or is removed from office under this Constitution, the Vice-President shall assume the office of President until fresh elections are held and the elected President assumes office in accordance with clause (8) of article 103 of this Constitution’.
Ironically, the apparent presidential succession ‘Plan B’ – if one can call it that – itself seems to be steeped in biological hubris – the idea that Uganda’s fortunes after Museveni can only be entrusted to, and safeguarded by, his son – Muhoozi Kainerugaba. And so, while on the one hand the President seems to be fighting a valiant but ultimately vain and futile battle against inevitable disease and death; on the other, he appears to arrogantly assume the possibility of rule beyond the grave, through the biological continuity of a presidency handed down from father to son.
In this sense, one cannot help but wonder whether his public railing against traditional institutions as ‘parochial’, is not somehow rooted in a deep-seated envy (perhaps even barely acknowledged by himself to himself) – of the legitimation, in many of those settings, of biological succession.
Indeed, this might explain some rather inexplicable things – such as the continued non-restoration of the monarchy in Ankore (more historically accurately described as ‘Nkore’ – but this is a story for another day). The increasing reality seems to be that the militarism of the NRM/A regime which officially proclaimed itself on 26th January 1986, has now been combined with another pernicious ingredient – dynastic aspirations and pretentions – with all the implications this has for any vestigial pretenses at democracy.
Unfortunately, as the weather forecast for democracy in Uganda becomes increasingly dark and foreboding, there is an increasingly profound silence from a number of institutions which ought to be pushing back against this – religious and cultural institutions; Parliament; the Judiciary; professional bodies (including, increasingly, the Uganda Law Society); certain political parties; the academia and civil society in general.
This is why, reader, in 2024, this column will continue to run. The motivations for it remain the same as those expressed in its very first iteration, published on 2nd August 2023. To reiterate, it was informed by:
i) the need for those who have been given a modicum of advantage (educational or otherwise) to be useful to Ugandan society;
ii) the need to push back, however modestly, against misinformation or disinformation which is tolerated, and at times even actively encouraged and supported, by those who might wish to see the ideals of democracy and majority rule die in Uganda;
iii) the special burden upon Ugandans of my generation (sometimes patronizingly referred to as ‘the bazzukulu’ – or ‘grandchildren’- by the very ‘grandparents’ who have refused to allow the ‘leaders of tomorrow’ to lead, several ‘tomorrows’ since 1986) to do our part in meeting today’s challenges;
iv) the challenge to join those members of academia and civil society who are already doing their part in shaping national discourse; and v) the recognition that this forum offers for a furtherance of my pedagogical duty (in both professional and more personal senses).
There might come a time when I feel I have said all I could. At that point, I promise, I will not overstay my welcome. I am reminded in this sense of a certain Ugandan who a few years ago used to write letters to the editor under the pseudonym ‘Mbaroraburora’ – literally meaning ‘I just look at you/ them’ – which apparently signified that person’s state of resignation and despondency regarding the state of affairs in Uganda.
I might, also, get to this point – at some stage. However, one is not entitled to be resigned unless one can genuinely point to their efforts to change the status quo – by the means best available to them. As an academic, the pen (or computer) is the means best suited for me – and this column continues to be the best mechanism for this contribution.
In 2023, this column covered various aspects of Uganda’s constitutional trajectory, engaging such areas as the notion of Presidential or Executive Orders; the World Bank and Uganda’s sovereignty; a fault-free divorce regime; affirmative action; extra-constitutional changes of government; citizenship for marginalized persons; the federal question in Uganda; deferment of bail determinations and the right to liberty; the politics of human rights; corporate power; implications of finance on social justice movements; legal decolonization in the context of the antiquated Witchcraft Act; the issue of ‘balaalo’ (migrant cattle-keepers) in Northern Uganda; and the contours of a ‘right to bad governance’ (including through reckless borrowing and expenditure by the state) in the context of notion of self-determination.
In this respect – aside from an analysis of the decisions rendered by courts in Uganda, as well as tribunals in a number of other jurisdictions – the column engaged with various provisions of the Ugandan Constitution, including those relating to supremacy of the Constitution (Article 2); defence of the Constitution (Article 3); the constitutional guarantee of a secular state (Article 7); the nature of fundamental and other human rights (Article 20); the freedom from discrimination (Article 21); the right to liberty (Article 23); the right to property (Article 26); the right to privacy (Article 27); the right to a fair trial (Article 28); the freedoms of conscience, expression, movement, religion, assembly and association (Article 29); the State’s obligation to take affirmative action in favour of particularly marginalized groups (Article 32); the right to civic participation (Article 38); the right to a clean and healthy environment (Article 39); the right to carry on a lawful occupation, trade or business (Article 40); the right of access to information (Article 41); acceptable limitations on human rights (Article 43); the mandate and functions of the Uganda Human Rights Commission (Articles 51 and 52); the right to vote (Article 59); qualifications of Members of Parliament (Article 88); executive/ presidential power and authority (Article 99); qualifications of the President (Article 102); tenure of presidential office (Article 105); exercise of judicial power (Article 126); jurisdiction of the Constitutional Court (Article 137); financial year planning and budgeting (Article 155); composition and authority of the Central Bank (Article 161).
In purely quantitative terms, this represents about 9% of the substantive articles of the 1995 Constitution. As the King’s College Budo motto goes ‘Gakyali Mabaga’ – so little has been done, so much is yet to, and must be, done.
We shall continue this effort this year – traversing some ground already touched (either by way of emphasis, or by force of necessity) as well as exploring new aspects of the 1995 Constitution (as well as its predecessor and its inevitable successor). In 2024, with the permission of my editors at The Observer, this column shall continue speaking – constitutionally – truth to power.
The writer is Senior Lecturer and Acting Director of the Human Rights and Peace Centre (HURIPEC) at the School of Law, Makerere University, where he teaches Constitutional Law and Legal Philosophy
