An Army with a State or a State with an Army? The Military and Post-Conflict Governance in Uganda and Rwanda

By

Gerald Bareebe University of Toronto

A thesis submitted in conformity with the requirements for the Degree of Doctor of Philosophy

Graduate Department of Political Science University of Toronto

© Copyright by Gerald Bareebe 2020

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An Army with a State or a State with an Army? The Military and Post-Conflict Governance in Uganda and Rwanda

Gerald Bareebe

Doctor of Philosophy

Graduate Department of Political Science University of Toronto

2020

Abstract

Post-conflict Uganda and Rwanda have had the experience of two distinctive political regimes, the

Uganda National Resistance Movement (NRM) and the Rwandan Patriotic Front (RPF), which

first struggled with the aftermath of devastating civil war. In both countries, the state had largely

collapsed and became bitterly contested by belligerent factions, leaving both regimes with the

challenge of re-building and consolidating state power. Both regimes were essentially led by a

small group of elites who saw the military and the restoration of political order as central to post-

conflict state reconstruction. However, the process of state reconstruction in both countries

produced strikingly different outcomes: the emergence of a civil authoritarian regime in Uganda

in which the military is clearly subordinate to the interests of the political regime, versus a military

authoritarian regime in Rwanda, where the interests of the military are much more obviously

paramount in how political power is structured. What accounts for this? Why did these two

regimes adopt such different state-building strategies? My dissertation draws from original

qualitative data collected from Uganda and Rwanda to explain strategies used by actors that win

civil wars to restructure the authority and reach of the state in a new postwar society. I show how

the postwar regime in Uganda inherited what I call a “residue” social structure, characterised by

the persistence of resilient and well-entrenched elite interests. A key finding of my PhD

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dissertation is that, to gain trust and legitimise his rule, the postwar regime leader in Uganda

adopted a strategy involving co-optation of, collaboration with, and concessions to these interests,

which ultimately led to the creation of a broad-based system of government designed purposely to

accommodate varying interests of these social groups. By contrast, the post-genocide regime in

Rwanda inherited a political structure that was completely shattered--without much “residue”. To

gain legitimacy, the elites within the RPF (who had won the war) exploited the political vacuum

to transform what had been a guerrilla group into a strong centralised military regime, justifying

the creation of a strong and cohesive military regime as a buttress against genocide.

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Acknowledgments

I would like to thank my supervisor, Professor Antoinette Handley for your guidance and support throughout the course of my doctoral studies. You are a great example of an excellent researcher, advisor and role model. You believed in me, gave me endless support and inspired me by your hardwork and passionate attitude. I give you enormous credit for the kind of scientist I have become.

I wish also to thank members of my dissertation committee: Professors Dickson Eyoh, Aisha Ahmad and Rita Abrahamsen for all of your support throughout my research. I gained a lot from your discussion, ideas and feedback. Likewise, I wish to thank my external examiner, Professor William Reno (Northwestern University) and my internal examiner (Professor Paul Kingston) for providing insightful discussion and evaluation of my dissertation. Your ideas, input, and enthusiasm were most helpful and will further guide me in making valid improvements to my work.

I would like to thank my amazing family, especially my wife Bwesigye Joan and my son Jadrien Ainembabazi for your endless love, perseverance and support. Living away from my family has been the difficult period of our lives. I thank you both for your sacrifice and patience. I undoubtedly could not have achieved this without you.

Finally, I would like to dedicate this dissertation to my late father, Musinguzi Vincent who passed away in 2012 while I was pursuing a master’s degree in Belgium. I wish you had lived to see my success.

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Table of Contents Abstract……………………………………………………………………………………….ii

Acknowledgments ....................................................................................................................... iv

List of Tables ............................................................................................................................... ix

List of Abbreviations .....................................................................................................................x

Chapter one ..................................................................................................................................1

Introduction .................................................................................................................................1

The Research Questions ..............................................................................................................7

My Deployment of Key Terms .................................................................................................10

Research Objectives and Academic Contributions ...................................................................18

Research Design ........................................................................................................................19

Dissertation Structure ................................................................................................................20

Chapter Two ..............................................................................................................................23

Research Method .........................................................................................................................23

Knowledge Framework .............................................................................................................23

Gaining Access to Research Areas ...........................................................................................24

Sampling Frame ........................................................................................................................26

Sampling Technique .................................................................................................................27

Interview Structure ....................................................................................................................28

Location of Interviews ..............................................................................................................29

Questionnaires ...........................................................................................................................29

Recording ..................................................................................................................................29

Translation ................................................................................................................................30

Protection of Confidential Participants .....................................................................................31

Data Protection ..........................................................................................................................31

Data Analysis and Interpretation ...............................................................................................32

Navigating Research Risks and Constraints .............................................................................33

Chapter Three ............................................................................................................................36

Theoretical Framework ................................................................................................................36

A Theoretical Framework for Post-Conflict State Development in Uganda and Rwanda ..........37

Uganda: An Authoritarian Regime with an Army ....................................................................39

Rwanda: An Authoritarian Army with a State ..........................................................................41

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State-Making in a Postwar Context ..........................................................................................50

Weaknesses of Dominant Approaches to Postwar State-Building ...........................................51

Tracing the origins of the “Residue” Social Structure in the Pre-Colonial African State ........55

The Colonial State: Destruction and Endurance of African “Residue” Social Structure .........58

Post-Colonial African State in Comparative Perspective .........................................................60

Limitations of Dominant View of the African State .................................................................64

Historical Institutionalism: Alternative Theoretical Approach .................................................66

Applying HI to Post-conflict State and Regime Development in Africa ..................................69

Conclusion ................................................................................................................................71

Chapter Four ..............................................................................................................................72

Post-Civil War State Reconstruction and Regime Formation in Uganda ...................................72

Introduction ...............................................................................................................................72

The Origins and Organization of the National Resistance Army (NRA/NRM) .......................73

The NRA: From Guerrilla to National Army ............................................................................77

The Ideological Orientation and Strategic Organization ..........................................................80

The influence of “Residue” Social Structure in Post-Conflict Uganda ....................................88

The Struggle to Consolidate Power: Coercion, Co-optation, Pacification and Constraints of the “Residue Social Structure” ......................................................................................95

Political Accommodation of the “Residue” Social Structure and Power-Sharing ..................116

Conclusion ..............................................................................................................................125

Chapter Five ..............................................................................................................................126

The Military and the Survival Strategies of the Museveni Regime in Uganda .........................126

Introduction .............................................................................................................................126

The Premise of Uganda’s Post-Conflict Defence Review ......................................................127

Post-Defence Review Military Reforms .................................................................................130

Impact of the Strategic Defence Review .................................................................................133

Personalization of the Military ................................................................................................136

Appointment and Promotions in the Army ......................................................................138

The Uganda Police as a Quasi-Military Organization ............................................................145

The Special Forces Command (SFC) ......................................................................................151

Dealing with Dissent & Rewarding Loyal Military Cadres ....................................................157

The Military and Politics .........................................................................................................168

The (2006, 2011) Elections and the Walk-to-Work Protests ..................................................171

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Confronting the “Residue” Social Structure: The 2009 Buganda Protests .............................175

Confrontation the “Residue” Social Structure: The Rwenzori Crisis and the 2016 Elections 178

Conclusion ..............................................................................................................................184

Chapter Six ................................................................................................................................186

Military Corruption as a Pillar of Regime Survival in Uganda .................................................186

Introduction .............................................................................................................................186

The Military and the Economy under Obote and Amin ..........................................................189

The Military and the Economy under Museveni ....................................................................197

Civil War and Military Corruption in Uganda ........................................................................206

‘Ghost’ Soldiers Scam ............................................................................................................214

Military Corruption and the Plunder of Congolese Resources ...............................................221

The UPDF’s Involvement in National Development Projects ................................................226

Conclusion ..............................................................................................................................232

Chapter Seven ..........................................................................................................................234

State Collapse, Reconstruction and the Formation of the RPF Regime in Rwanda ..................234

Introduction .............................................................................................................................234

The Military, Complex Ethnic Identities, and Colonial Legacies ...........................................236

The Formation of the RPF Guerrilla Movement .....................................................................241

The RPF Leadership, Internal Organization and the Museveni Factor ...................................249

Failed Political Settlements & Peace-Talks ............................................................................252

The RPF’s Struggle to Consolidate & Institutionalize Power ................................................254

Political Control and Managing Dissent .................................................................................260

Managing Intra-Tutsi Differences ...........................................................................................263

Political Reconstruction of Ethnic Identities ..........................................................................267

The RPF and Post-Genocide Transitional Justice ...................................................................273

Absence of the “Residue” Social Structure in Post-Genocide Rwanda ..................................277

Conclusion ..............................................................................................................................283

Chapter Eight ...........................................................................................................................285

Understanding Military Domination of Post-Genocide Rwandan Political System .................285

Introduction .............................................................................................................................285

The Post-Genocide Power-Sharing Government ....................................................................287

Indirect Military Control (1994-2000) ....................................................................................290

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Forced Political Resignations ..................................................................................................301

From Indirect to Direct Military Control ................................................................................303

Ingando as a Pillar of Sociopolitical Control ..........................................................................305

Umuganda and Itorero as Pillars of Socio-political Control ...................................................310

The Military and Elections in Rwanda ...................................................................................312

Conclusion ..............................................................................................................................315 Chapter Nine………………………………………………………………………………...316

Conclusion and Policy Implications ..........................................................................................316

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List of Tables

Table1: The impact of the “Residue” Social Structure in Uganda and Rwanda………………...15

Table 2: An illustration of postwar state development in Uganda and Rwanda ........................... 39

Table 3: Museveni’s relatives holding top positions in the military ........................................... 139

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List of Abbreviations

NRM National Resistance Movement NRA National Resistance Movement RPF Rwanda Patriotic Front RPA Rwanda Patriotic Army NLF National Liberation Front KY The Kabaka Yekka ADF Allied Democratic Forces NALU National Army for the Liberation of Uganda WNBF West Nile Bank Front HSM Holy Spirit Movement FDLR Democratic Forces for the Liberation of Rwanda EPRDF People’s Revolutionary Democratic Front ELF Eritrean Liberation Front SPLA. Sudanese People’s Liberation SPLM Sudan People’s Liberation Movement UPDF Uganda Peoples Defense Forces IDP Displaced Persons Camps RDF Rwandan Defence Force ZANUPF Zimbabwe African National Union – Patriotic Front EPRDF Ethiopian People's Revolutionary Democratic Front ANC African National Congress DRC Democratic Republic of Congo HI Historical Institutionalism FUNA Uganda National Army UFM Uganda Freedom Movement FRELIMO Front for Liberation of Mozambique UPC Uganda Peoples’ Congress UPDM/A Uganda People’s Democratic Movement/Army UPA Uganda People’s Army AROPIC Aringa-Obongi Peace Initiative Committee ARLPI Acholi Religious Leaders Peace Initiative NSC National Security Council LDU Local Defence Units ISO Internal Security Organization ESO External Security Organization JIC Joint Intelligence Committee DSC District Security Committees DIC District Intelligence Committees CMI. Chieftaincy of Military Intelligence POMA Public Order Management Act SFC Special Force Command PGB Presidential Guard Brigade CNI Coordinator of National Intelligence PAC Parliamentary Public Accounts Committee NEC National Executive Committee IGG Inspector General of Government

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DCC Directorate of Command and Control PRDP Peace Recovery and Development Program NUSAF Northern Uganda Social Action Fund NAADS National Agricultural Advisory Services OWC Operation Wealth Creation PARMEHUTU Parti du Mouvement de l'Emancipation Hutu UNAR Union Nationale Rwandaise UNAR TNA. Transitional National Assembly MRNDD: The Coalition for the Defence of the Republic PDC Parti Démocratique Chrétien MDR Mouvement Démocratique Républicain PL Parti Libéral PDR Parti Democratique de Renouveau NURC National Unity and Reconciliation Commission ICTR International Criminal Tribunal for Rwanda NRC National Resistance Council AMISOM

African Union Mission in Somalia

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Chapter one

Introduction

Because they endure sustained episodes of violence and socioeconomic collapse, postwar

leaders face formidable challenges in building stable, secure and prosperous societies.1

Statebuilding––the construction of effective and legitimate governmental systems––is a key

element in this broad effort to create durable peace and stability in countries emerging from war.2

As a result, the reconstruction of the state in the wake of a civil war is of great interest to scholars

and international development practitioners.3 It is also a significant policy challenge as post-

conflict societies are often characterized by insecurity and lawlessness and a lack of social

cohesion.

In both Uganda and Rwanda state failure had produced a fundamental breakdown of political

order, sparking armed conflicts and an ultimately successful guerrilla incursion. In Uganda, we

saw state takeover by the National Resistance Army (NRA) in 1986 and, in Rwanda, the

triumphant invasion by the Rwandan Patriotic Army/Front (RPA/F) which routed the former

regime and ended the 1994 genocide in Rwanda. In both cases, government troops had to battle

with insurgencies and other forms of civil unrest in an attempt to assert their authority, which led

to communal discontent, internal dissent and ultimately, a struggle over the monopoly of

violence. In the process, the state itself remained precarious, bitterly contested, unable to provide

basic services and, in some cases, too weak (or reluctant) to stop its own military from committing

atrocities against civilians.

When former guerrilla leaders Paul Kagame (RPA) of Rwanda and Yoweri Museveni (NRA) of

Uganda finally won control of their respective states and became the leaders of their respective

regimes, they inevitably faced two key challenges: i) how to monopolize violence and ii) how to

establish a new and legitimate form of political authority. The military and how it was organized

and deployed was central to how both of these challenges were met. Yet while both the Ugandan

1 François, Monika and Inder Sud, 2006. ‘Promoting Stability and Development in Fragile and Failed States’. Development Policy Review 24(2), 141–160 2 David Sobek & Cameron G. Thies (2015) Civil Wars and Contemporary State Building: Rebellion, Conflict Duration, and Lootable Resources, Civil Wars, 17:1, 51-69 3 Brinkerhoff, Derick W., 2005. ‘Rebuilding Governance in Failed States and Post-Conflict Societies: Core Concepts and Cross-Cutting Themes’. Public Administration and Development 25(1), 3–14.

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and Rwandan regimes have a good deal in common (not least that both regimes are

nondemocratic), they adopted strikingly different strategies to consolidate their authority and re-

build the postwar state. Although President Museveni’s NRA guerrilla group achieved a decisive

military victory, it inherited what I am calling a “residue” social structure, characterized by the

persistence of resilient and well-entrenched social groups. These groups included the protestant

and catholic churches, landed elites, a mercantile class, different monarchies and those political

parties who survived the violent conflict. The Museveni regime was thus forced to co-opt,

collaborate with and make concessions to these interests, which ultimately led to the creation of a

broad-based system of government purposely designed to accommodate varying interests of these

groups (see account in chapter III). The evidence I have gathered suggests that, to consolidate his

power and legitimize his regime in power, Museveni developed a strategy that hinged on

cultivating a partnership between the military and these different social groups. The military in

Uganda is firmly embedded within the ruling regime, bolstering the regime’s survival through

curtailing activities of anti-regime groups. While Museveni often engages in patronage and in

policy concessions, he also swiftly falls back to his reliance on mild coercion when his hold on

power is more fundamentally threatened by his opponents. The Museveni regime finds it

increasingly costly and risky to entirely depend on coercive force to counter its adversaries.

Instead, it employs co-optation, concession, accommodation and alliance-building as an

alternative to coercion.

In contrast to the Museveni regime in Uganda, the post-genocide regime in Rwanda inherited a

political structure that was completely shattered--without much residue. Most of the elites that

were in control of the state before the 1994 genocide either fled the country, were arrested by the

RPF or died in the ensuing struggle for power. Hence, President Kagame did not have to make

concessions or to co-opt the interests of pre-existing social groups (“residue” social structure). This

political vacuum gave the opportunity to elites within the RPF regime to transform what had been

a guerrilla group into a strong centralised army, justifying the creation of a strong and cohesive

military force as a buttress against genocide. This construction however granted a high and risky

amount of power to the military. Unlike in Uganda where the military is effectively under the

control of regime elites, in Rwanda it is the military that instructs the political elites to behave

more in line with its own preference. Coercion is the main strategy used to forge unity among

armed and civilian elites and (coercion) is the foundation upon which regime legitimacy and

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stability is attained. Therefore, as the sole wielder of the instruments of force, the military in

Rwanda has had a greater influence than political elites in the reconstruction of Rwanda’s political

systems and policy outputs at various levels of governance (see more explanation in chapter III).

As it is the case with Uganda and Rwanda, postwar regimes around the world employ varying

degrees of coercion, co-optation and concession in order to achieve stability and legitimacy.

However, the question of why and how they adopt different state-building strategies has not been

well-explored. This dissertation shows that the “residue” social structure has a significant impact

on the choice of the strategy, and hence the degree and pattern of coercion, co-optation and

concession adopted in these states. For example, as previewed above, in Uganda’s case, the

Museveni regime took over control of a county that already had a “residue” social structure

constituted by powerful social groups with well-defined interests. These groups later imposed

constraints on the regime to the extent that it became politically counterproductive for the regime

to rely entirely on coercion to suppress the interests and influence of these groups in the Ugandan

society. As a result, coercion did not become the principal strategy for post-conflict regime

stability and legitimation in Uganda. This is not to suggest that coercion was not regularly used. It

was however employed to reinforce or complement other strategies. In addition, the constraints

imposed by domestic actors (“residue” social structure) on state agents sometimes obliged the

regime to delegate coercion to third parties; engaging non-state actors or semiofficial structures

such as vigilantes, thugs, or paramilitary forces. For instance, vigilante groups such as the Kiboko

squad, the Kalangala action plan and crime preventors have become instrumental in enforcing

regime actions (see chapter V). The regime discreetly supports and funds these vigilante groups,

yet when confronted by the “residue” social structure to explain its role in the activities of these

groups, the regime publicly disassociates itself from these groups given their illegitimacy and

outright criminality.

The situation was quite different in Rwanda where any “residue” social structure had been

dismantled by violence. Regimes in such societies are able to construct a coercive and much more

authoritarian system of governance because they do not have to deal with constraints imposed by

organized social structures. As a result, coercion becomes the overriding strategy for regime

legitimation and consolidation. Other strategies such as co-optation, concession and alliance-

building are employed but at a lower scale than coercion. Thus, as the ultimate wielders of the

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instruments of coercion, the military becomes a central element in governance. The policies and

preferences of the armed elites significantly determine political outcomes. Moreover, there is no

distinction between the military and the political regime as the two institutions are often fused

together. Also, formal coercive tactics are employed to maintain political and social order as the

army relies on its might to force the population to support the regime. Below I map out the

contrasting strategies presented by the two cases under study, Uganda and Rwanda.

Table 1: The impact of the “Residue” Social Structure in Post-Conflict Uganda and Rwanda

The above illustration captures the impact of the “residue” social structure in postwar state

reconstruction in Uganda and Rwanda. While both regimes are nondemocratic, they have built

strikingly different post-war political systems. For the case of Uganda, the “residue” social

structure had a substantial independent impact on the nature of the post-war state as it forced the

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regime to engage in co-optation, concession, alliance-formation and mild coercion. As a result,

political elites emerged more dominant than armed elites in determining post-conflict governance

policies. Because coercion was not the overriding post-conflict governance strategy, the influence

of armed elites is limited to some extent and the army is forced to engage in a political process

alongside other actors constituting a ruling coalition. For the case of Rwanda, however, the

“residue” social structure was dismantled during the 1994 genocide. This was a critical watershed

moment that allowed the military to emerge as a dominant force over other political actors. The

power vacuum that Rwanda experienced after 1994 gave birth to a style of winner-take-all politics

that is profoundly rooted in previous genocide experiences. As a result, the new RPF regime

largely depended on the military in its attempt to reconstruct the postwar state and to consolidate

power. Because coercion became the hallmark of governance in post-genocide Rwanda, the

military––the ultimate wielders of the tools of violence––gained more power than civilian

politicians. Below I define the five strategies in detail.

Coercion: Political scientists view political coercion as the ability of the regime to make a

population do what it would not have otherwise done through the exercise of force and violence.4

This focuses our attention on the means of coercion, such as the use of ammunition, military,

police, prisons, threats etc. The emphasis is on the coercive instruments of the state and the state-

society relations. Using coercion, the regime can impose severe sanctions for behaviors or actions

that threaten its survival and can subsequently achieve compliance and cooperative behavior.5

Formal coercion (direct use of force) by state agents may be employed or informal coercion

(disguised use of force) by groups with ties to the state. Informal coercive tactics are used because

formal coercion may be constrained by the “residue” social structure, rendering it

counterproductive or undesirable.

Co-optation refers to the process by which rival groups are absorbed by the ruling regime or

cooperate with the regime without necessarily gaining new advantages.6 Regimes that employ

co-optation as a political strategy do so on the premise that it is more politically advantageous to

4 A.I. Podberezkin and M. V. Kharkevich (2017) “Political Elites as an Object of Coercive Influence in Contemporary World Politics” Vestnik MGIMO-Universiteta;0(5(44)):136-141. 5 Fehr E., Falk A. (2002). Psychological foundations of incentives. Eur. Econ. Rev. 46, 687–724. 10.1016/S0014-2921(01)00208-2 6 Selznick, P. (1949). TVA and the grass roots: A study of politics and organization. Berkeley: University of California Press

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co-opt their rivals than to dominate or suppress them. In some cases, co-optation creates a false

perception of a mutually strategic relationship that is based on each side respecting and

recognizing the interests of the other. When cooptation is truly successful however rivals may

alter their preferences in accordance with the regime’s wishes in anticipation of gaining new

strategic returns through compromise, but those returns do not always materialize; instead the

regime’s interests prevail over those of co-opted groups. In contrast to coercion, the regime may

achieve its interests by engaging in co-optation without suffering political costs. By engaging in

co-optation, the ultimate goal of the regime is to make its challengers politically irrelevant. For

example, in Uganda, groups that were co-opted into the NRA after the 1986 civil war such as

the Holy Spirit Movement (HSM), the former Uganda National Army (FUNA), the Uganda

National Rescue Front (UNRF I&II) and the West Nile Bank Front (WNBF) were rendered

politically irrelevant once they were co-opted (see page chapter II).

Concession: Political scientists generally view concession as the act of yielding to the

interests/policies of your political rivals in order to end a disagreement or a dispute.7 Regimes

employ concessions as a strategy in accordance with the perceived legitimacy and strength of

their opponents’ concerns/interests. Some post-conflict regimes may concede to the demands of

the “residue” social groups while others choose to use violent repression instead of concessions.

Others employ a combination of repression and concessions. The case of Uganda, for example,

shows that post-conflict regimes use a cost-benefit analysis based on whether violence against

organized social groups (“residue” social structure) can guarantee regime legitimacy and

consolidation or whether it may produce further disorder and fragility. Interviews conducted with

top regime insiders in Uganda show that the calculation by regime elites after the 1986 civil war

was that a violent campaign against well-entranced interests of social groups such as kingdoms,

churches and landed elites would generate further chaos and threaten the ultimate goal of regime

survival. Thus, the NRA’s strategy was to use whatever methods necessary, including

concessions to the interests of these groups in order to ensure the endurance of the new regime.

This strategy runs counter to the RPF’s approach in Rwanda. Unlike the NRA, the RPF did not

face any serious constraints from social groups with entrenched interest. Even where the RPF

encountered armed resistance, the approach was to use force to dismantle such resistance.

7 Courtenay R. Conrad (2011) “Constrained Concessions: Beneficent Dictatorial Responses to the Domestic Political Opposition”, International Studies Quarterly, Volume 55, Issue 4, 1167–1187

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Engaging in negotiations with opponents of the regime was never tolerated because triumphant

RPF elites saw such concessions as a sign of weakness. Having gained political capital from

ending genocide, the RPF did not want to engage in talks with groups that perpetuated genocide

fearing a reputational loss. In such a situation, the cost of using violence against its enemies for

the regime did not outweigh the benefit of engaging in concessions or co-optation.

Alliance-building: In some postwar societies, victorious regimes and their rivals have come

together to form coalitions with the aim of establishing a unity government. For example, the

post-1986 government in Uganda was a coalition government constituted by members drawn

from various political parties.8 This explains why it was called the broad-based system of

government (Movement System). Although the NRA had achieved a decisive military victory, it

chose to ally with other political parties such as the Democratic Party (DP) and the Uganda

Peoples’ Congress Party (UPC) to form a unity government. It has been argued that a decade

under a unity government in Uganda helped usher the country through political crises and secure

peace.9 It also provided the basis for agreement on a range of reforms that improved government

accountability. However, unlike in Uganda, the post-genocide power-sharing government in

Rwanda failed because the military remained covertly in charge of the political system. Efforts

by the post-genocide civilian coalition government to gain control over the army were resisted

by the armed elites, culminating in the resignation of the civilian President, Pasteur Bizimungu

and the rise to the Presidency of General Paul Kagame (see chapter eight).

The Research Questions

While violence and internal armed conflicts continue to dominate policy and academic debates on

post-colonial African state, there is limited understanding of the fractious and complex process of

reconstructing states in Africa’s post-war areas. Many scholars researching Africa’s state

development tend to focus on the international factors or on postcolonial state failures while

neglecting the role and interests of domestic actors in the structuring of the post-conflict African

state. Policy debates and academic discussions often ignore African agency and political actors––

8 Perrot, Sandrine (2019) "Partisan Defections in Contemporary Uganda: The Micro-Dynamics of Hegemonic Party-Building." Journal of Eastern African Studies 10.4 (2016): 713-28. 9 9 Makara, Sabiti, Lise Rakner, and Lars Svåsand (2009)"Turnaround: The National Resistance Movement and the Reintroduction of a Multiparty System in Uganda." International Political Science Review 30 (2): 185-204.

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i.e., elite interests and regime character––yet conflicts in postcolonial Africa are first and foremost

about the struggle for the control of coercive power and thereafter regime consolidation. Thus, my

interest lies in exploring the role of domestic factors in the postwar state reconstruction process by

focusing on the “residue” social structure and the convergence of military and regime interests in

state reconstruction after a civil war. I present the post-conflict state reconstruction as a complex

process, involving co-optation, concession, coercion and alliance-formation between social groups

that constitute a “residue” social structure and actors that win civil wars.

Post-conflict Uganda and Rwanda share many important similarities. As I preview above, both

countries experienced devastating civil war. In both cases, the state largely collapsed and was

bitterly contested by belligerent factions, leaving any new regime with the challenge of core-

building and consolidating state power.

Despite these many similarities in process and history, we see strikingly different outcomes in the two countries: the emergence of a civil authoritarian regime in Uganda in which the military is clearly subordinate to the interests of the political regime, versus a military authoritarian regime in Rwanda, where the interests of the military are much more obviously paramount in how political power is structured. What accounts for this? Why did these two regimes adopt such different state-building strategies? While the military is central to these strategies in both countries, its precise role in each case differs in important ways. What are those differences and how do they shape the emergent nature of the regime? And what are the consequences of all of this for these two cases?

I argue that the nature of the underlying social structure had a significant impact on the nature of

post-conflict state in Uganda and Rwanda in two important ways: first, a civil-authoritarian regime

emerged as a dominant force in Uganda because the country already had a “residue” social

structure characterized by powerful social groups with well-defined interest. In Uganda,

entrenched social groups such as kingdoms, churches, landed elites, and mercantile class

significantly constrained the actions of the new regime. The triumphant NRA/M regime was forced

to engage in co-optation, concession and alliance-building. While the military is still an influential

actor in Uganda’s political system, it does not enjoy unlimited power. Its power is limited to some

extent and is forced to engage in a political process alongside other actors constituting a ruling

coalition.

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In Rwanda, however, a military-authoritarian regime emerged because post-genocide Rwanda

lacked a formidable “residue” social structure. The 1994 genocide dismantled Rwanda’s “residue”

social structure, depriving the society of any dominant social group to constrain the power of

triumphant RPA/F armed elites. Genocide was a critical watershed moment that allowed a military

to emerge as a dominant force over other political actors in Rwanda.

This dissertation draws on 12 months of field research conducted in Uganda and Rwanda to

account for different outcomes for state-building strategies after civil war. I present the process of

state-building after civil war as rife with many instances of contradictions, tensions and dilemmas,

which have to be negotiated, confronted, accommodated and even coerced by postwar state-

builders. I show why and how, in the aftermath of violent conflict and full-blown civil war,

different political regimes adopt different strategies for consolidating their authority and rebuilding

the state. Furthermore, I examine the ways in which the military has been moulded and

instrumentally used by the postwar regimes in both Uganda and Rwanda.

As already highlighted, the focus of this dissertation is on post-conflict state reconstruction

strategies, especially the influence of the ‘residue” social structure, the role of the military and

the interest of political elites in the process of state reconstruction after war. Many studies that

focus on conflict intervention tend to focus on the role of external actors (donors and aid

agencies) in reconstruction and state stabilization. While external actors may well have some

form of influence, such accounts tend to underplay domestic actors and how they shape the

configuration of postwar state––a gap this research tries to bridge.

Pre-existing social groups constitute what I am calling a “residue” social structure, characterized

by the persistence of resilient and well- entrenched elite interests (see a broader definition in the

sext section). I argue that a coalition of interests composed of military elites (who fought and won

the civil war), the political regime (that assumed control of the state after the civil war) and these

social groups (that survived the violent destruction) is central to understanding the nature of post-

conflict state reconstruction (as is the case with Uganda). The outcome of this arrangement is a

state in which the political regime dominates and controls the army, rather than the reverse. This

does not necessarily mean that the military is not significant in such a state. The army still plays a

significant political role. For instance, in situations where strategies such as co-optation, alliance-

10

building or concessions are not effective, the regime leader uses the army for the consolidation of

his power; the military thus becomes a subset of politics as it is deployed to accomplish the

subjective interests of the regime leader. The contrasting case of Rwanda however shows that, as

a defence force, the military can play a more expansive role than merely national defence. In

societies emerging out of mass crimes, where socio-political systems have been completely

shattered, with much less “residue” social structure surviving to serve as the foundation for post-

conflict social reconstruction, the military can be instrumental , central and indisputably dominant

in the reconstruction of key social, political and economic institutions in a new postwar society.

My Deployment of Key Terms

Conceptualizing a “Residue” Social Structure

A social structure is “the framework of societal institutions (such as the economy, politics,

and religion) and the social practices (such as rules and social roles) that make up a society and

that organize and establish limits.”10 For the purposes of this dissertation, the term

“residue” social structure is used to refer to well-entrenched and influential socioeconomic and

political structures that are constituted by groups/actors with well-defined interests and,

established and widely accepted roles. Three distinctive attributes define social groups that

constitute a “residue” social structure. First, these are social groups that enjoy some level of

influence or veto power on regime actions. Second, these are persistent social groups. For example,

in areas where they survive violent destruction, they retain continuity as well as their unique

identity as individual groups. Third, they are well-organized with well-defined interests. The need

to achieve their interests allows them to play a significant role in the reconstruction of political

systems in a new postwar society. These groups could include different monarchies, religious

groups such as the catholic and protestant churches, landed elites, the mercantile class and old

political parties which survived the violence.

10 Kendell Diana (2007) Socialogy in Our Times (Sixth Edition) Thomson Learning, Inc (Baylor University) p.123

11

The relationship between the state and groups constituting the “residue” social structure is a

complex one. These groups are not formally part of the state, yet they wield informal power and

significantly influence the actions of state actors. In Uganda, for example, the postwar regime

leader was forced to make strategic decisions and policy concessions designed purposely to

accommodate the varying interests of these groups. Thus, while groups constituting the post-

conflict “residue” social structure do not necessarily have a formal relationship with the ruling

regime, they may still influence the regime in significant ways. On the one hand, they seek to

extract valuable policy concessions from the regime. On the other, the regime leader will strive to

use them to support his rule and prevent opposition challenge. Thus, strategically, the relationship

between the regime and the “residue” social structure is a two-way street. In contrast to the formal

state, however, the “residue” social structure does not enjoy a monopoly on legitimate use of force.

Instead, groups that constitute the “residue” social structure use their political influence to change

the behaviors of those who wield the instruments of violence.

In Africa’s postwar societies where a “residue” social structure survived the violence, it played a

significant role in the reconfiguration of the postwar state and regime dynamics. In Uganda, for

example, the NRA guerrilla group that won the 1986 civil war, did not seek to dismantle the

“residue” social structure or to completely dominate it. Instead, NRA leaders (who had won the

civil war) developed a broad-based system of governance designed purposely to accommodate the

interests of these groups. Consequently, the postwar governance structure in Uganda is a function

of the convergence of interests between entrenched elite structures and the guerrilla group (NRA)

that won the civil war. To date, groups that constitute the “residue” social structure continue to

wield immense influence on Uganda’s governance system. Their influence and impact come, in

large part, from the political incentives they present to the ruling regime. If the regime implements

policies that are favored by the “residue” social structure, the regime leader can in turn count on

support from these groups during elections. If the regime enacts policies that are detrimental to the

interests of the “residue” social structure these groups will organize resistance to such policies,

leading to tension and antagonism between the regime and sections of society. The

“residue” social structure in Uganda has demonstrated its capacity to veto policies enacted by the

regime on many occassions. For example, in 2005, the Ugandan Parliament amended the

constitution to create a regional tier system of local governments. This move was opposed by

12

monarchies in Uganda who wanted the country to adopt a federal system of government.11 The

government was later forced to abandon the proposed law. The situation is different in postwar

countries in which a “residue” social structure has been dismantled or where social groups are

weak such as Rwanda. In such countries, the policies of the regime are adopted without any

contraints or veto from the “residue” social structure.

A Political Regime: This dissertation adopts Robert Fishman’s definition of a political regime “as

the formal and informal organization of the center of political power, and of its relations with the

broader society. A regime determines who has access to political power, and how those who are

in power deal with those who are not. (...) regimes are more permanent forms of political

organization than specific governments, but they are typically less permanent than the state.”12

However, I recognize that not all regimes have complete control over how they deal with those not

in power. According to Skaaning,13 any characterization of a political regime should include the

means with which it accesses power, the way it structures the power center, the character of its

ruler and, crucially, its relationship with society. These features determine how power is acquired,

organized, projected and exercised which then make it possible to draw a distinction between

autocratic and democratic regimes. Regimes represent a more enduring form of political

organization than governments, but they are less permanent than states.14 (A state is the permanent

central apparatus of political/coercive power in a particular national territory15).

Political regimes are also structured by institutions and rules (both formal and informal),

manifested through an assemblage of actors and their interests. In many African countries, a

change of government may take place under the same regime. In this case, successive governments

represent identical interests or are constituted by actors serving the interests of the same regime.

A case in point is Zimbabwe which, in 2017 witnessed a ‘managed coup’ that resulted in the

11 The observer (17 December 2009) “Bunyoro Kingdom now Opposes Regional Tier” Available online: https://www.observer.ug/news-headlines/6488--bunyoro-king-now-rejects-regional-tier (Accessed 9 March 2019) 12 Fishman, Robert. (1990) “Rethinking State and Regime: Southern Europe's Transition to Democracy. World Politics”, 42(3), 422-440. 13 Conover, P. Johnston (1988) “The Role of Social Groups in Political Thinking.” British Journal of Political Science, vol. 18, p. 52. 14 Lawson, Stephanie. (1993) "Conceptual Issues in the Comparative Study of Regime Change and Democratization." Comparative Politics25, no. 2: 183-205. 15 Rose, Nikolas, and Peter, Miller (1992) "Political Power beyond the State: Problematics of Government." The British Journal of Sociology 43, no. 2: 173-205

13

transfer of power from one government (Robert Mugabe’s) to another (Emmerson Mnangagwa’s)

but under the same ZANU–PF regime (Zimbabwe African National Union – Patriotic Front). The

same could be said for Ethiopia’s transition from Prime Minister Meles Zenawi to Hailemariam

Desalegn and thereafter to the current Prime Minister Abiy Ahmed but under the same regime, the

Ethiopian People's Revolutionary Democratic Front (EPRDF). Another example is South Africa,

which has witnessed four governments since the end of apartheid but under the same African

National Congress (ANC) regime. These are different regimes; one democratic (South Africa), the

others undemocratic (Zimbabwe and Ethiopia). Likewise, Uganda and Rwanda have experienced

various types of regime change since independence. However, the ruling regime in Uganda came

into existence after the 1986 civil war and the prevailing regime in Rwanda came to power after

the 1994 genocide. Both regimes are under the leadership of a strong man (Presidents Kagame and

Museveni) each with overwhelming powers.

Elites: an elite is a “selected and small group of citizens and/or organizations that controls a large

amount of power.”16 This dissertation considers the role of elites as an analytical variable,

examining the actions of those individuals and groups in both Uganda and Rwanda who are

situated at the top of society. The focus is on powerful elites in political and military circles who

organize and control political power. Social groups and elites are fundamentally interlinked, but

scholars have demonstrated that the power and influence of elites is manifested through social

class patterns.17 For instance, Mosca18 argues that the status of elites is determined by the

underlying social structure. This is partly so because in many societies the ruling elites tend to be

comprised of the wealthiest members of society with interest in acquiring political power. Thus,

as it is the case for both Uganda and Rwanda, the interests of both political and military elites are

economic, social and political.

16 Garrido V. Garrido (2013) “Elites, political elites and social change in modern societies” Revista De Sociología, No 28 (2013) p.1 17 Lane. David. (ed.) (2007): The transformations of State Socialism: system change, capitalism or something else? Palgrave McMillan, London 18 Mosca, Gaetano. (1939 [1896]): The ruling class, Greenwood Press, Westport

14

Uganda and Rwanda: A comparison

Both Uganda and Rwanda have, since gaining independence, had a turbulent political history

characterized by civil wars, military coups, ethnic conflicts19 and contested electoral outcomes.20

Uganda has experienced eight changes of government within a period of twenty-four years (1962-

1986), five of which were violent and undemocratic.21 In Rwanda every political transition after

decolonization has been explosive, stimulating civil war and genocide (1959-62, 1972-73 and

1990-94).22 The inability of the post-independence regimes to control the army in both countries

permitted these armies to commit widespread human rights violations, resulting in the collapse of

state authority and destruction of socio-economic life.

Throughout the 1970s, 1980s and 1990s both countries were engulfed by recurring political crises,

with different armed groups fighting for political power. One consequence of this was the collapse

of state authority that led to the formation of various protracted guerrilla movements jostling for a

monopoly on violence. Two formidable insurrectionary movements emerged to capture power:

Yoweri Museveni’s National Resistance Army (NRA) seized power in Kampala in 1986 while

Paul Kagame’s Rwandan Patriotic Army/Front (RPA/F) captured power in Kigali in 1994.23 The

two guerrilla outfits were each started by exile groups in neighboring countries whose members

had been forced to flee in fear of political persecution. Museveni’s NRA was formed with

significant financial and military support from Tanzania. He fought his way to power in Uganda

promising a “fundamental change” after decades of civil war and economic stagnation. Similarly,

Kagame captured power following periods of explosive political and ethnic rivalry that boiled over

into the 1994 genocide. Kagame’s RPF guerrilla group was initiated by Tutsis exiles (based in

19 Prunier Gerard., (1995) The Rwanda Crisis: History of a Genocide. New York: Columbia University Press. 20 Karugire, K. Samwiri, (1988), Roots of Instability in Uganda, Fountain Publishers, Kampala, Uganda. 21 Kasozi, B. Abdu (1994), The Social Origins of Violence in Uganda, 1964-1985. Montreal: McGill-Queen’s

University Press. 22 Prunier Gerard (1995) ibid.

15

Uganda) against a Hutu-controlled government. But, unlike Uganda, in the case of Rwanda the

conflict was fueled by ethnic rivalry from the onset.

After seizing power both Museveni and Kagame inherited states that were in near-total collapse.24

Intermittent violence had triggered some of the worst atrocities in the region’s post-colonial

history.25 The credibility of the new administrations in Uganda and Rwanda fundamentally hinged

on their ability to establish legitimate authority and restore political order in a deeply-divided

society. In Uganda, for example, Museveni’s violent capture of power itself provoked a new

exodus of political movements and insurgent groups, many with ethnic and regional character.26

These groups included the Holy Spirit Movement (HSM), National Army for the Liberation of

Uganda (NALU), West Nile Bank Front (WNBF), Allied Democratic Forces (ADF), Lord’s

Resistance Army and Uganda National Rescue Front (UNLF). Likewise, Kagame had to deal with

threats posed by armed remnants of the ousted Hutu-led regime popularly known as Interahamwe

and, later, the Democratic Forces for the Liberation of Rwanda (FDLR), a rebel group dominated

by those who participated in the 1994 genocide and then fled across the border to Congo.

Moreover, like Museveni’s NRA, the new RPF government faced credibility challenges, with

many Rwandans questioning its ability to unite the country because its administration was

dominated by Tutsis, many of whom held dual Uganda-Rwanda citizenship. They were widely

seen as foreigners in the country they had liberated. Kagame himself had grown up in Uganda,

where his family lived as refugees since 1956. Kagame became a member of Museveni’s guerrilla

movement that captured power, and Kagame rose through the ranks to become a senior intelligence

officer in Ugandan military. He left the position to command the Tutsi rebel force that took power

in Rwanda at the end of the 1994 genocide.

Following their military victories, the two former guerrilla leaders turned heads of state faced the

same critical challenge: how to establish legitimate authority in a post-conflict society. They had

to grapple with ethnic tensions, rebuilding a fractured nation in a poor economy and creating a

24 Krogstad, G. Erlend (2012). “Security, Development, And Force: Revisiting Police Reform in Sierra Leone”. African Affairs, 111/443, 261–280. 25 Waugh, Colin (2004) Paul Kagame and Rwanda: Power, Genocide and the Rwandan Patriotic Front. Jefferson, N.C.: Mcfarland & Company 26 Muhumuza, William., (2008) “Between Rhetoric and Political Conviction: The Dynamics of Decentralization in Uganda and Africa”, Journal of Social, Political and Economic Studies. 33 (4): 405-425.

16

strong military force to impose a monopoly on violence (identified by Max Weber as the

foundation of the state27––see chapter three). More so, since both leaders forcefully fought their

way up from the trenches to their respective presidential palaces, authenticating their credibility to

govern was a matter of urgency. The extra-constitutional means by which they seized power

created additional hurdles in their quest to legitimize their authority. In other words, critical

political issues facing the new leadership in both countries included how to monopolize violence,

how to restore legitimate authority, how to hold fractious unstable countries together and how to

ensure a certain level of peace and security. Therefore, for both regimes, the predicaments they

encountered were fundamentally interwoven with crises of legitimacy. How they responded to the

expectations of millions of people who had endured decades of civil wars and economic stagnation,

would go a long way in resolving this legitimacy crisis. For instance, one of the expectations facing

the new leaders was that they would reverse what many considered the politics of tribalism,

nepotism and despotism and usher in a new era of peace and stability. Confronted with such order-

making challenges, both Museveni and Kagame regimes reverted to creating strong and effective

military institutions out of the guerilla outfits that had seized authority and which now wielded

coercive power.

The prevailing character of the post-war regimes in Uganda and Rwanda is not unique. Indeed, the

phenomenon of guerrilla movements capturing power and militarizing state institutions in order to

consolidate regime hegemony is not unheard of in post-colonial Africa and elsewhere. In Ethiopia,

for example, Meles Zanawi’s People’s Revolutionary Democratic Front (EPRDF) took power

through guerrilla warfare in 1991 and relied on the military to cement a single-party dominant

rule.28Similarly, in neighboring Eritrea, Isaias Afwerki’s Eritrean Liberation Front (ELF) captured

power in 1991.29 Afwerki equally relied on the military to create a one-party state. The ruling

People's Front for Democracy and Justice (PFDJ) is the only political party allowed to operate in

that country. In Burundi, president Pierre Nkurunziza, a former Hutu rebel leader, has used the

military to prolong his authoritarian rule.30 The military is a key player there in suppressing dissent,

27 Weber, Max (1946). “Politics as a Vocation.” In From Max Weber: Essays in Sociology, translated by H. H. Gerth and C. Wright Mills. Oxford University Press. 28 Marco Di Nunzio (2014) “Do not cross the red line’: The 2010 general elections, dissent, and political mobilization in urban Ethiopia,” African Affairs, Volume 113, Issue 452 29 Pool, David (2001) From Guerrilla to Government the Eritrean People’s Liberation Front. Ohio University Press 30 Ndikumana, Leonce. (2005) “Distributional Conflict, the State and Peace Building in Burundi” The Round Table,

Vol. 94, No. 381, 413 – 427.

17

muzzling press freedom, and was recently deployed to suppress popular protest against Nkurunziza

after he controversially changed the country’s constitution which originally limited the president’s

term in office to a maximum of two.31 In South Sudan, President Salva Kiir led a guerilla group

that fought for the secession of South Sudan from Sudan in 2011. But he has failed to transform

Sudanese People’s Liberation Army (SPLA) into a national army. The ruling political party (the

Sudan People’s Liberation Movement- SPLM), that originally led the struggle for independence,

is now divided along ethnic lines. The failure by Kiir to carryout post-secession state-building has

left SPLM in a legitimacy crisis.32 Likewise, the army is divided between two factions: one loyal

to President Kiir and the other to former vice president Riek Machar. This division was a driving

factor for the second South Sudan civil war that has put almost four million people at risk of

starvation and forced a further 2.3 million to flee their homes.

In Africa’s post-conflict societies, the military is a powerful factor with considerable influence. Its

central role in regime consolidation and nation-building thus deserves more conceptualization. In

Uganda and Rwanda, for example, not only have the Museveni and Kagame regimes enhanced

their capacity to monopolize violence (including their willingness to politically use the army to

clamp down on dissent), they have also constructively employed the military as an instrument for

socio-economic transformation. Because both countries have experienced the negative impacts of

state failure, fears over possible state collapse form a basis for the regimes' use of the army to

impose limitations on individual freedoms. While policy practitioners suggest that in a post-war

environment peace should substitute violence, enemies must learn to live with each other and the

rule of law must reign supreme, results from Uganda and Rwanda point to states whose transition

from civil war is defined by the military’s obvious impact on the state apparatus. The military’s

role in both countries varies, but shares one single characteristic––i.e., a fusion of at least aspects

of the political system with a repressive military apparatus. This points to a complex process that

state-makers confront in their attempt to rebuild war-torn countries, and the structural and social

conditions of a postwar society play a significant role in shaping configurations of the post-conflict

state (see more on this in chapter III).

31 International Crisis Group Report, 2017. Available online: https://www.crisisgroup.org/africa/central-africa/burundi/247-burundi-army-crisis (Accessed 17 June 2018) 32 Johnston, Douglas (2014) “The Political Crisis in South Sudan” Africa Studies Review. Vol. 57 (3). Cambridge

University Press.

18

Previous experiences of anarchy mean that for both regimes a strong military is seen as necessary

to mitigate anarchy. Using the army to impose restriction on peoples’ freedoms is regarded as

justifiable if it prevents these societies from descending again into chaos. For both regimes,

countering internal rivals means investing in the apparatus for policing, surveillance and coercion.

Violence is thus employed both legitimately (to curtail external threats) and illegitimately (to

violate the rights of their citizens), which then muddles the distinction between legitimate and

illegitimate use of violence. In societies emerging from damaging conflicts and socio-economic

collapse, security is indisputably central to post-conflict reconstruction and nation-building.

Insecurity creates the fear of conflict resurgence and what concerns regime leaders in such states

is creating a secure environment for post-conflict stabilization, economic recovery and social

prosperity. However, exactly how the military is deployed in such a process and whether its

interests are paramount can vary widely as my two cases show. Thus, at its core, this dissertation

addresses three important issues: First, the dilemmas of rebuilding states and legitimate ruling

regimes after war in societies in which there is a well-entrenched “residue” social structure (e.g.,

Uganda); Second, the dilemmas of rebuilding states and legitimate ruling regimes after war in

societies in which the “residue” social structure is absent (e.g. Rwanda); and, lastly, the role of the

military and the convergence of military and regime interests in this process and the consequences

for the society.

Research Objectives and Academic Contributions

A major lesson to draw from the two cases under investigation is that our understanding of the

critical role the military plays in post-war legitimation of state authority, the consolidation of

regime power and nation-building in countries characterized by enduring episodes of

socioeconomic and ethno-political divides ––has remained inadequate. In these societies, the way

in which soldiers and political elites’ act both individually and institutionally offers us a crucial

starting point in understanding the dynamics of postwar governance. A great deal of academic

research on post-conflict state reconstruction in Africa tends to emphasize what western powers

have done or should do. My research shifts our attention instead to the role of indigenous social

groups, the military and its relationship with the political regime, and how the various interests of

these groups converge in the process of rebuilding order after disorder.

19

Theoretically, this study is driven by two important objectives: the first is the need to consider the

influence of a “residue” social structure. What the cases of Uganda and Rwanda tell us is that,

without understanding the underlying socio-political agency of the political regime and the armed

elites that run it (and without knowing who their allies are or what the sources of constraints in

that process are), it is difficult to resolve the socio-political problems that trouble most postwar

states on the continent. The second is the need to show how post-war reconstruction in Africa is a

function of elite interactions. The failure to understand this phenomenon has left post-conflict

societies more vulnerable to conflict relapse. By investigating the interface of power elites in post-

war state reconstruction, this research situates itself within a more empirical and contemporary

African perspective and elevates the importance of social actors, specifically those whose actions

reflect the intractability of power struggle.

Research Design

To understand the convergence between the military and elite interests, this research relies on

qualitative research, which allows me to capture personal and flexible structures. As Carson 33and

Black34 point out, the advantage of this approach is that it allows a researcher to capture meanings

in human interactions and actions, emphasizing human agency and intersubjectivity of elements

to uncover the value in human actions. This approach allows me to initiate a mutual interaction

and engagement with my informants and thereby creating an environment for constructive

discussion. I am therefore able to analyze, see and interpret the propagated political discourse.

In a post-conflict environment such as Rwanda and Uganda it is nearly impossible to get

appropriate and meaningful data by relying purely on quantitative methods. Both countries remain

sensitive and highly controlling of information they release to the public. While both formally have

freedom of information and access to information laws enshrined in their legal instruments, the

difference between what is theoretically legal and what is practiced is glaring. That being said, the

degree of information control differs in both countries. Rwanda is a relatively closed country and

its military is suspicious of anyone outside seeking information about its internal workings. Data

for this research was collected using four research tools: questionnaires, observation, semi-

33 Carson, D., Gilmore, A., Perry, C., and Gronhaug, K. (2001). Qualitative Marketing Research. London: Sage. 34 Black, Iaine. (2006). “The presentation of interpretivist research: Qualitative Market Research:” An International Journal, 9(4), 319–324.

20

structured interviews and in-depth unstructured interviews. Given the difficulty of accessing

individual soldiers (which was nearly impossible in Rwanda), the researcher decided to interview

top-level military officers who mostly gave the official military position on issues. This was

however counterbalanced with more independent voices from interviews conducted with members

of civil society, dissidents, journalists, opinion leaders as well as members of the diplomatic corps.

Empirically, the study covers new ground in our understanding of the military-elite nexus,

especially within the context of rebuilding states after civil war. Theoretically, the thesis makes

use of existing literature on constructing order after disorder but also goes further to integrate the

debates on the endurance of state institutions by engaging the literature on historical

institutionalism. It thus contributes to the understanding of elite interest and the military’s position

in society by analyzing ways in which the military is employed by the political regime to achieve

certain subjective interests. In addition, the different ways in which the military is used in post-

conflict state reconstruction is considered. I for example examine social programs that are

developed and run by the military with the sole objective of re-constructing social relations in a

new postwar society. While the official position of the regime is that such programs are meant to

cultivate social harmony necessary for ethnic coexistence, I examine the symbolism of these

programs and their connection to political consolidation of regime power.

Dissertation Structure

This introduction has presented the research puzzle, identified the research question and provided

an overview of state reconstruction in post-conflict Uganda and Rwanda. The second chapter

outlines the methodology used, the procedures applied, and the approach followed in data

collection and analysis. The third chapter presents the theoretical framework, surveys existing

literature, and also summarises the theoretical contributions of this research. Chapter four starts

with an analysis of the case study of Uganda and presents insights into the complex interplay

between the “residue” social structure and the process of postwar state reconstruction. Chapters

five and six highlight the ways in which the military in Uganda is used to support the survival of

the Museveni regime. Chapters seven and eight focus on Rwanda. They give an overview of state

collapse, reconstruction and the formation of the RPF regime, with an emphasis on key historical

developments that underpin its birth, collapse and reconstruction. The two chapters also highlight

the military domination of Rwanda’s post-genocide political system and present a historical

21

process of military and politics in Rwanda, focusing on pre-genocide and post-genocide periods.

Chapter nine concludes the dissertation, highlights policy suggestions and outlines broad

implications of this research.

22

23

Chapter Two

Research Method

This chapter describes the methodological process and how it was informed. The chapter presents

the case selection, data collection procedures and analytical techniques employed to deduce the

main inferences.

Data collection took place during 12 months of field work conducted in 2014, 2015 and 2016. To

generate data, I relied on a combination of observational research, contextual analysis, semi-

structured and un-structured interviews with different actors as well as questionnaires. I first

visited Uganda and Rwanda on a pilot study in 2014. This was a short visit, covering a period of

two months. I met and interviewed government officials, civil society leaders, journalists and

opinion leaders in these countries. My intention was to gain an understanding of issues around my

research topic and to develop relations and contacts with local actors in the region who will grant

the necessary access and facilitation during fieldwork proper. This trip enabled me to determine

the feasibility of my research and to assess procedures and limitation of my methodologies. It also

enabled me to make a few corrections and develop a concrete research design. The insights enabled

me to develop a clear understanding of the country processes as well as contextual and historical

knowledge on post-conflict political developments in both countries.

Prior to commencing the next phase of fieldwork, I was in contact with sources inside Uganda and

Rwanda’s governments and civil society groups. I also undertook an internet-based sourcing of

information, utilizing electronic mailing contact system to keep in touch with these sources and to

follow political developments in both countries. I regularly followed online publications by

reputable media organizations such as the Daily Monitor, the Observer, the New Vision, the

Independent (all Ugandan) and the New Times, KT Press, Rwanda Television, Rwanda News

Agency/Grand Lac Hebdo, Rwanda Today and Umwezi (all Rwandan).

Knowledge Framework

The methods utilized in this research were informed by the theoretical perceptions about what

constitutes appropriate knowledge. Quantitative research falls under the paradigm of positivism

which posits that the social world has an external reality that shows a degree of regularity, which

24

then makes it possible to be measured through testable hypothesis.35 Under quantitative,

correlation and experimentation methods are used to generate verifiable evidence.36 This

comprises empirical testing, random sampling and controlled variables. The aim is to test

inferences through true experiments rather than quasi-experiments. Positivists consider their

approach and the knowledge generated to be value neutral.37 Facts about the social world pre-exist

and thus through taking a scientific approach to gather and scrutinize data, a researcher can

discover social ‘facts.’38

In order to understand important political elements that cannot be statistically measured such as

country-level socio-political and historical processes, this research adopted a qualitative approach.

The aim is to capture subjective meanings and interpret concrete social phenomenon imbedded in

historical perspectives and make sense of the behaviors of different actors. This means that human

agency and subjectivity are central. The focus is on collecting data that demonstrate depth and

describe meaning.39 Thus, a qualitative research approach was employed to collect data upon

which I have produced knowledge about the phenomenon under study. Knowledge is produced

on subjective and constructed processes and followed to understand the context within which

individual behaviors and actions takes place. Moreover, employing a qualitative research to study

a postwar situation is essential because in such environment voices can be inhibited or constrained

by past experiences and socio-political considerations. It is thus imperative to understanding and

contextualize the behavior of actors within historical and social-political dynamics.

Gaining Access to Research Areas

Prior to the commencement of fieldwork, I had anticipated numerous challenges with regards to

gaining access into both Uganda and Rwanda and ensuring that research participants are willing

to participate in the research. The anticipated challenges included; the possibility of getting forced

to disclose information collected, respondents engaging in self-censorship, getting denied access

to information, especially if deemed sensitive for national security; and my freedom of movement

getting restricted in some areas. It should be recalled that both countries where this study was

35 Popper, Karl R. (1972) Objective Knowledge: An Evolutionary Approach. Oxford: Clarendon Press 36 Creswell, J. W. (2009). Research design: Qualitative and mixed methods approaches. London: SAGE. 37 Cohen, L., Manion, L., & Morrison, K. (2007). Research methods in education (6 Edition). London: Routledge. 38 Berg Bruce 1995) Qualitative Research Methods for the Social Sciences. Boston Allyn & Bacon, p. 3 39 Hammersley, Martyn ed. (1992). Social research: Philosophy, politics and practice. London: Sage.p.197

25

conducted are among the least democratic countries in the world.40 This comes with numerous

challenges of access and information disclosure. Moreover, the research had a component of

interviewing military leaders, which means that it was complicated by security and intelligence

concerns on the side of military leadership. Nonetheless, the fact that the environment for this kind

of research is challenging does not mean that good research cannot be conducted in this area.

As a native of the region many things worked in my favor. First, as the citizen of East Africa, I

am not legally required to undertake cumbersome government approvals to conduct research. The

only approval I required was from army leadership to access the military headquarters in Uganda

and Rwanda so as to interact with officials. The fact that I had worked as a journalist in the region,

contributed a lot to me gaining acceptance because many of the officials were familiar with my

previous work and were willing to even introduce me to their colleagues who might have the

information I was looking for. In Rwanda, I also got in touch with a prominent diplomat who

significantly helped me to navigate administrative and logistical challenges for this research. This

diplomat has served as an ambassador to Rwanda for over ten years. I was thus privileged to rely

on his knowledge of the Rwanda military systems and his connections inside the regime to gain

endorsement for this research. I used this strategy because, in a closed society like Rwanda, having

endorsement from individuals with networks and connections inside the system is significant for

facilitating access and gaining trust from respondents. As Emmel et al. has emphasized, “trust is

built upon the credible account of others who have an experience of those to be trusted.’’41 I

therefore found it imperative to rely on individuals who have deep ties inside the Rwanda regime

to introduce me to their contacts and pitch the value of my research both in terms of policy and

scholarly contributions. I focused particularly on establishing contacts with elements within the

military, the ruling regime and civil society sectors. In addition, I organized a dinner with a few

retired senior military leaders which constituted a four-hour unscripted discussion. I used this

strategy because I realized that asking retired army officers to connect me to their counterparts in

active service provides the most appropriate entry point into conducting this research in Rwanda.

While retired army officers generally hold positive views of the military, they are also open to

alternative viewpoints. Therefore, these ‘gatekeepers’ not only assisted me through sharing with

40 See, for example, Freedom House 2013 report available online https://freedomhouse.org/sites/default/files/FIW%202013%20Booklet.pdf (Access February 5, 2019) 41 Emmel, N., Hughes, K., Greenhalgh, J., & Sales, A. (2007). “Accessing Socially Excluded People — Trust and the Gatekeeper in the Researcher-Participant Relationship.” Sociological Research Online p.4

26

me their contacts, they also endorsed my project to the military and political hierarchies thereby

helping me overcome any sense of suspicion that may have been caused by the conduct of such a

sensitive research.

Sampling Frame

I did not interview lower-ranked soldiers. The key informants that were interviewed are senior

level officers within the army and the ministry of defence, leading experts in the field, members

of parliament, civil society leaders and other private actors who have either advised the

government or international agencies funding the military and regime institutions in both countries.

In total 126 interviews were conducted; 70 in Uganda and 56 in Rwanda. Therefore, this research

was conducted at three levels:

Level one: The regime elites: The regime elites provided insights into the workings and

understanding of the official regime position. Their views feeds into part of this research that is

focused on understanding the actions of regime elites in the process of reconstructing a post-war

state. Data was collected from individuals who occupy positions of power in the ruling regime in

both countries. This sample enabled me to explore patterns of behavior and interactions that

explain the strategy of political construction and state-building policies taken after a prolonged

period of political turmoil.

Level two: The military elites: The focus here was on the military elites who provided insights

into the internal workings of the official military establishment. This sample population allowed

me to explore the military-political dynamics, specifically the political role of the military in state

reconstruction, and the policy decisions and the actions of individuals who make these decisions.

These high-ranking officers provided insights into the culture, motives and the strategies of the

regime and its military apparatus. These officers were interviewed at length, and the interviews

took various forms including unstructured, semi-structured and open-ended.

Level three: Non-governmental actors: The focus here was on non-governmental actors with

independent knowledge of the regime and military policies. This sample population allowed me

to interview and interact with members of civil society, journalists, members of the diplomatic

27

community and opinion leaders representing different social groups such as the church, the

business community and in Uganda different monarchies.

Sampling Technique

In the course of the research, the number of interviews conducted was determined by data

saturation. Saturation is a situation during data collection at which no more relevant insights is

produced during interviews in respect to the research question.42 It has been widely proved that

failure to reach data saturation affects both the content of research and content validity.43 In

deciding data saturation I was guided by two important benchmarks: 1) that I have chosen the

sample size that would help me reach data saturation, and 2) a larger sample size will not

necessary guarantee data saturation, nor does a small sample size. Therefore, to reach data

saturation, my focus was more on the depth of the data collected, not the numbers per se. I

conducted interviews and when it seems that data that emerged was enough and no more new data

was being produced, that is when I would end the interviews. In most cases, I would determine

this point when the interviewee keeps repeating same points with no new information emerging.

I developed a contact list of officials in the government, the military and the civil society to

interview. In choosing these informants, I used a non-probability sampling focus. All informants

were selected based on the researcher’s own judgment. Most of the interviewees were already in

my network as I had met several of them during my pilot study in the region. A snow-ball sampling

technique was used because it is advantageous when respondents can be used to refer a researcher

to other respondents. To avoid bias, the proposed snowball method only involved disclosure of

professional contact/information. I often insisted that that consent of respondents be sought before

a respondent could recommend that I meet with other persons in their network who could have

important information to benefit my research question. Sometimes my own interviewees would

suggest or recommend individuals within their network for me to interview. I found these

individuals willing to be interviewed because I was recommended to them by colleagues they trust.

42 Saunders, Benjamin et al. (2017) “Saturation in qualitative research: exploring its conceptualization and operationalization” Quality & quantity vol. 52,4: 1893-1907. 43 Bowen, A. Glenn. (2008) “Naturalistic inquiry and the saturation concept: A research note.” Qualitative Research, 8(1), 137-152.

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I randomly chose names from my list and when individuals were not available to be interviewed

or when their phones were switched-off (which happened a few times). I would choose the next

name on the list. Sensitive informants were never included on that list. All individuals on the list

had an equal chance of getting interviewed.

Interview Structure

The interviews conducted with military officers and politicians covered a number of areas: The

first part focused on understanding what soldiers considered to be their role in postwar state

reconstruction and nation-building; and what they saw as the nature of soldiers’ relationship with

the ruling regime. In this case, I sought to collect data on soldiers’ understanding of their role

within a broad framework of rebuilding order after disorder. The second part focused on exploring

the experiences of soldiers in regard to their relationships and interactions with the elites at the

helm of the regime. The third part focused on exploring voices from non-government actors

particularly expert information on how the interests of the military and the political regime elites

manifest itself within the broader process of postwar political reconstruction. I also sought to

capture soldiers’ perception about the role of elite-civilian politicians in the reconstruction of

postwar state.

The questions posed were mainly open-ended. The idea was to allow respondents to answer

questions in a manner that reflected their own perceptions. Where respondents did not exhaustively

answer the question, probing follow-up questions were raised. I developed a list of possible

questions which I compiled into a questionnaire (see a sample questionnaire in the appendix).

Some interview questions were accordingly skipped because respondents tended to answer those

questions somewhere else in the interview. In some cases, respondents went deep into discussing

their own experiences of working in government or in the military institutions. In that situation, I

was opening to listening and capturing such experiences. I found this approach to be very valuable

because it allowed me to engage in natural conversation and it made respondents comfortable and

open to discussing even sensitive issues that they would not have otherwise discussed, or that they

would have felt uncomfortable to discuss if questions caught them off-guard. I also found that this

approach allowed respondents to even engage interpretation of their own motives and intentions

of their actions, all because of using a technique that gives agency to respondents.

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Location of Interviews

The physical location and space where research interviews are conducted can significantly affect

the information collected. Participants may free to speak in certain environments but may also feel

constrained in others. In situations where participants feel constrained, they may decide to

withhold information. The interviews for this research were conducted in public spaces like cafes

and offices of senior army officers and politicians. Some respondents suggested that I meet them

in their offices and interview them there. Members of Ugandan military invited me to their

headquarters in Mbuya, Kampala, for a full day of interviews and interaction with senior army

leaders. Likewise, I visited the Rwanda army headquarters in Kigali twice where I interacted with

the army’s top leadership. In one situation, an army officer insisted that we meet at top hotel in

Kigali. I accepted the invitation and the interview lasted for more than three houres (longer than I

had anticipated). In most cases, interviews conducted in office buildings tended to reflect the

official positions of regime or military leadership. In one rare situation, a Uganda military officer

paused the interview and asked his two guards to leave the room before we continued with the

interview process. Some army officers asked that I share with them my questionnaire prior to the

meeting, which I was able to do. There were also situations beyond my control when soldiers were

called for meetings or important engagements in the middle of the interview process. These were

rescheduled where possible.

Questionnaires

Although I had developed a questionnaire to guide the interview process, a majority of the

respondents preferred that I pose questions and they responded as I took notes. I found this very

suitable for obtaining detailed information as it allowed respondents to freely express themselves

without having to follow a prescribed schedule and word limit. This method was used to gain

information about participants political roles, their socio-economic background and their

expectation of the role of the state. I also found this method helpful because participants gave

elaboration explanations which I would not have obtained if I had strictly followed a questionnaire

format.

Recording

I audio-recorded all non-sensitive interviews using a voice recorder. These interviews were later

transcribed verbatim, and all the transcript were double-checked to ensure that they are accurate

30

and a true representation of the respondents’ views. Sensitive interviews were not recorded but

notes were taken, and names of respondents were disguised using alphanumeric codes.

Translation

All interviews undertaken with military and political elites were conducted in English; however,

there were a few interviews conducted with Rwandan dissidents that were conducted in

Kinyarwanda. Although I have a good grasp of Kinyarwanda language, for these cases, I decided

to conduct interviews in presence of a translator so as to ensure that their views were accurately

captured. All these interviews were conducted in private settings so that respondents felt free and

comfortable to talk to me. I posed questions in English and a translator repeated the question in

Kinyarwanda. Several scholars have highlighted challenges of conducting research in a

geographical area where a researcher has no knowledge of the local language and has to rely on

translations. Phillips Harbert44 and Pavlenko Aneta45 have showed how words spoken carry

certain cultural meanings and connotations that a researcher may not be aware of. The interpreter

may also affect the communication process. An interpreter could mistranslate questions or

negatively affective the communication process through his/her demeanor. However, the fact that

I have an intermediary knowledge of Kinyarwanda helped me to maximize validity. More so, I

employed a second translator to check all my transcripts to ensure that they correctly represent the

view expressed by the respondents. This extra level of verification is necessary for achieving

validity. The quality of translations depends on a number of factors and the few phrases in a

language can alter the construction of meanings. During these interviews, I had a prior discussion

with the first translator about the need to be very accurate, the need to avoid projecting emotions

and to avoid certain kind of subjective questions. (An example of a subjective question would be

‘why is the Rwandan military and the regime fused together?’. Instead I asked question such as

‘tell me more about your relationship with the ruling party’ or ‘what do you take to be your most

important role in the society?’). I also discussed interview procedures and expectations with the

translator in a briefing before the interview.

44 Herbert Phillips (1959) “Problems of Translation and Meaning in Field Work.” Human Organization: Winter 1959, Vol. 18, No. 4, pp. 184-192. 45 Pavlenko, Aneta. (2014). The bilingual mind and what it tells us about language and thought. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press.

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Protection of Confidential Participants

A large amount of information that I obtained was from non-confidential respondents. Most

government officials and military leaders tended to reproduce their official talking-point memos.

However, I did obtain information from a few elements within the regime which I deemed to be

very sensitive and that could put the safety and security of these respondents in jeopardy. In

addition, many of the activists and dissidents I interviewed requested anonymity in order to speak

freely.

After going through the consent form, many indicated that they did not want to be identified. A

few consented to be recorded even under confidentiality but most Rwandan dissidents asked me

not to record them for fear that their voices could be identified. As a result, I did not record them

or any personally identifying information. I did interview each confidential respondent

individually and in a public place such as a restaurant or a cafe. Their views were written in the

form of notes in my notebook. I designated each anonymous interview by alphabetical letters (e.g.,

confidential participant A, B, C, D). For those who agreed to be recorded under confidentiality, I

still took steps to protect their identity. First, I explained to them the possible risks involved in

recording them before conducting such a confidential interview. Immediately after the interview,

I transcribed the materials and saved them all on iCloud using alphanumerical codes. Access to

iCloud was protected by a secure password that was only known to me and was never written

anywhere or shared with anyone. Because some non-confidential interviewees revealed sensitive

information and asked me to keep parts of their interview confidential, I have made a deliberate

decision not to reveal the dates and location of some confidential interviews as this could lead to

them getting identified.

Data Protection

All interviews for this research were recorded either using a voice recording device or hand-written

notes. Both handwritten notes and a voice recorder were kept in the safety deposit box in my hotel

room. Every evening, I would download non-sensitive interviews conducted during that particular

day from the voice recorder and store them on my iCloud. As already noted, for sensitive

interviews, immediately after conducting such interviews, I would download, transcribe and then

destroy sensitive recordings. The transcribed data was then saved in form of notes using iCloud

and Google cloud. I found using iCloud to save sensitive information to be very useful because

information is stored on a secure server managed by Apple/Google and is accessible from

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anywhere in the world. This means that I did not have to travel with materials on laptop or memory

sticks while going through security checkpoints. Before commencing the fieldwork, I undertook

training on the use of encryption software to ensure the safety of electronic files. All identifiable

electronic information outside of a secure server environment were encrypted, consistent with

University of Toronto’s data security and data encryption standards.

Even with that level of security and caution, it is never possible to mitigate every risk. As a result,

for participants who accepted to be recorded but under confidentiality, I had first to explain to

them that having their voice stored may render them identifiable. Some chose not to be recorded,

and I was happy to take notes of our conversation by hand. Any information that might identify

them was destroyed from my interview transcript and notes. I did not share their names or any

other personal information about them. I informed them that their interviews would be transcribed

immediately and thereafter it will be destroyed and that any personally identifying information

would be replaced by a coded system.

Data Analysis and Interpretation

Coding is the first process by which knowledge is obtained from the data. The process of coding

entails attaching labels to segments of data, categorizing data and developing handles necessary

for making comparisons (i.e., identifying differences and similarities in the arranged data

categories).46 After collecting data, I started a coding process so as not to be preemptive of the data

itself. All interview scripts were uploaded on ‘NVivo’ and coded. To develop categories of my

data, I used an inductive coding strategy from a grounded theory; this theory comprises “systematic

yet flexible guidelines for collecting and analyzing qualitative data to construct theories grounded

in data themselves…. data forms the foundation of our theory and our analysis of this data

generates the concepts we construct”.47 This means that I was working from particular to more

general perspectives. The advantage of the inductive coding strategy is that I was able to begin by

making observations, then look for patterns in observations as I moved from specific towards

general statement. This approach allowed me to see the social phenomenon from an informant’s

perspectives. I rejected the deductive approach to coding which would entail producing a list of

categories upon which data is then coded.48

46 Charmaz, K. (1999) Constructing Crounded Theory: A practical Guide Through Qualitative Analysis, Chicago. Aldrine Publishing: P. 3 47 Charmaz, K., (2006) ibid. p.2 48 David, M. and Sutton C.D. (2004) Social Research-The basics, London: Sage Publication.

33

Instead, I let the data itself guide the coding categories which allowed respondents’ voices and

insights, rather than my initial theoretical framework, guide the process of data analysis. This

inductive process allowed me to deconstruct the transcripts and identify elements/items that could

have been overlooked by taking a rigid, structured and predetermined framework. I created codes

based on data, following the voices of respondents. I made sure that the codes I chose are a true

representative of the data and that it was the data that guides the coding process rather than theory.

Through this process, I relied on data in my analysis rather than forcing data into a predetermined

theoretical framework. The concept generated from analyzing the data could then be used in theory

building. In other words, instead of looking to confirm what a researcher thinks respondents are

trying to say, the focus was precisely on what respondents are saying. Thus, data becomes a

guiding framework for generating concepts which, in turn, maximizes validity. This process thus

produces meanings that otherwise would have been overlooked, especially those that couldn’t fit

in any category created by a deductive process.

The first stage of data analysis started with coding the first eight interviews following the open-

coding process, and in total 267 codes were created based on line-by-line coding of the initial eight

interviews. The second stage involved identifying codes that were most frequent and using these

to synthesis the data. Here, I engaged in focused coding, identifying the most significant and

frequently mentioned code, which then I used to arrange and organize data into sections. After this

process, I started to compare all materials from the interviews with no disregard to any interview

transcript. I then moved on to identify axial codes in order to specify proportions of each category.

(Axial codes are those that a researcher “perceive to be the core issues or themes within the text

they are analyzing’.)49 In the end, I was able to produce much more focused codes that captured,

integrated, and organized data. (See the list of the codes I developed in appendix).

Navigating Research Risks and Constraints

Research validity can be affected by gatekeepers who may want to influence the outcomes of the

research.50 During my visit to the National University of Rwanda in Butare, I shared my research

synopsis with two high-ranking professors whom I later came to know had close ties to the regime.

49 David and Sutton (2004) ibid. p. 206 50 Emmel, N., Hughes, K., Greenhalgh, J., & Sales, A. (2007). Ibid.

34

They all recommended that I change my research focus to an area they said was less controversial.

They also advised me to use surveys, rather than direct interviews, because it would make it easy

for authorities to see in advance the questions I intended to ask. I did not change my approach and

consequently I faced a few restrictions. First, I was not allowed to interact with lower-ranked

soldiers. Most of the officials I interviewed were top-ranked military and policy experts. Prior to

my meetings at the ministry of defence, I was asked to submit my questions in advance. However,

during interviews I had the flexibility of posing any other question even though it was not on the

list.

Despite these restrictions, several things worked in my favor: first, I have worked in the region

before dealing with the same type of informants that were interviewed for this research project.

Thus, I am deeply familiar with their expertise and I understand the limitation of security

environment in this region. Most of the respondents I interviewed regularly participate in this kind

of research and most have gone on public record about the role of the military in this region.

Moreover, apart from my four-years of journalistic experience covering the military and political

development in this region, I have served also as a research assistant on a number of projects

similar to this research. Previously, I worked on a project investigating the Lord Resistance Army

(LRA) in northern Uganda and Eastern Congo, which required extensive travels in the region.

During this project, I was able to develop valuable relationship with some of the region’s most

reputable academics, policy makers and security analysts.

As far as my own safety in the field is concerned, I followed the University of Toronto’s framework

for off-campus safety and strictly adhered to the guidelines for University of Toronto’s safety in

the field. Second, in the past five years, I have visited the region four times, spending two working

summer holidays with local communities in Uganda and Rwanda. As a native of the region who

speaks the local language, respondents courteously welcomed me as guest. I was also lucky that

the security situation in post-genocide Rwanda and Post-Idi Amin Uganda has improved

tremendously in recent years. This allowed me to categorize this research as a medium-risk

undertaking in my ethics review application, which was approved without difficulty by the

University of Toronto’s Ethics Review Board.

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36

Chapter Three

Theoretical Framework

Introduction

A critical review of existing literature on post-conflict reconstruction leads to three main

observations. The first is the lack of a comprehensive conceptual framework on post-war state

reconstruction, especially one that is grounded in the understanding of the role played by

endogenous forces in the reconstruction process. Second, the literature on state reconstruction after

civil war offers conflicting, fragmented and contradictory narratives. Third, while the international

donor community continue to invest heavily in the re-building of states and societies ravaged by

conflict, especially in the global south, the role of the “residue” social structure in the

reconstruction has not been well studied. The focus is largely on the influence of external forces

in the process while neglecting the role played by internal forces. In addition, while the upsurge

of civil wars, especially in the global south, has attracted the interest of scholars and practitioners

who are focusing on various aspects of postwar state reconstruction,51 less is understood about the

process by which those actors who win civil wars use the military in the state reconstruction

process. Put differently, how do they use their newfound power to fundamentally restructure socio-

economic and political systems in a postwar society? This is the gap in literature that this research

seeks to bridge.

In countries such as postwar Uganda and post-genocide Rwanda, the re-building of political, social

and economic systems after conflict was heavily influenced by either the presence or absence of

what I call a “residue” social structure. As already highlighted, I conceptualize a

“residue” social structure as constituted by a combination of social groups (monarchies, religious

groups, landed elites, mercantile class and political parties) who survived the civil war and played

51 Joel Migdal (1998) Strong Societies and Weak States: State Society Relations and State Capabilities in the Third World. Princeton University Press.

37

a key role in postwar state reconstruction. Their support can be vital for regime legitimacy and for

the building of state capacity following civil war. For example, in Uganda where these groups

survived the war, they became important actors in the shaping of the postwar political system (see

chapter IV).

I begin the literature review by presenting my theoretical framework as well as mapping out the

gap in exisiting literature that this research seeks to bridge. I then explore the universal debates

on post-conflict reconstruction. Furthermore, I examine the historical origins of the

“residue” social structure, showing how it has exhibited elements of density and continuity

throughout the pre-colonial, colonial, post-colonial and the civil war periods.

A Theoretical Framework for Post-Conflict State Development in Uganda and Rwanda

Drawing from the experiences of Uganda and Rwanda, I consider postwar state development to be

a complex process that is shaped by a multiplicity of forces. I contend that the question of why

political regimes chose different state-building strategies and the varied outcomes such strategies

produce cannot be answered by simply restricting our focus to colonial legacies, the impact of

geographical barriers or international actors as some scholars have highlighted. I present it as a

complex process from both a theoretical and practical point of view, involving negotiations, co-

optation, collaboration, coercion and alliance formation between social groups that constitute a

“residue” social structure and actors that win civil wars. I show how the ‘residue’ social structure

alongside political and military elites played a crucial role in shaping the nature and character of

postwar state reconstruction in Uganda and Rwanda. I present an illustration that captures the

dynamics of the interplay between, on the one hand, the “residue” social structure and, on the

other, the convergence of military and regime interests in the process of state reconstruction and

regime consolidation after a civil war. While both the Ugandan and Rwandan regimes have a good

deal in common (both regimes are nondemocratic and depend largely on the military for survival),

they have built strikingly different post-war political systems because genocide in Rwanda and

civil war in Uganda (as critical junctures) sent both countries along different developmental paths.

The central point that emerges is that the “residue” social structure has a substantial independent

impact on the nature of the postwar state in two ways: First, a civil-authoritarian regime is likely

38

to emerge as a dominant force in states in which there was a “residue” social structure (e.g.,

Uganda). For the case of Rwanda, genocide was a critical watershed moment that allowed a

military regime to emerge as a dominant force over other political actors in a postwar state in

which there was an absence of a “residue” social structure. The power vacuum after the 1994

genocide gave birth to winner-take-all politics that is profoundly rooted in previous experiences.

Hence, the contrast between the two postwar regimes is clear: in Uganda, for example, while the

military is an influential actor, it does not enjoy unlimited powers. Its power is limited to some

extent and is forced to engage in a political process alongside other actors constituting a ruling

coalition. This situation is brought into existence as a result of postwar state reconstruction process

that is rooted in the legitimation strategies of the regime leader—i.e., his decision to co-opt and

collaborate with social groups. The illustration below captures the two contradictions. I ground

my explanation in the way social groups, as institutions, varyingly contribute to the structuring of

postwar systems and how the military and regime interests may converge. Here, I show how the

presence (or lack thereof) social groups matter in the rebuilding of a postwar state. The actions of

political actors are analyzed to show how they affect the political, social and economic structures.

More so, throughout the empirical chapters, the relationship between political actors (president

Museveni and Kagame) and social institutions (military, kingdoms, parliament, social groups) is

analyzed.

39

Table 1: An illustration of postwar state development in Uganda and Rwanda

Uganda: An Authoritarian Regime with an Army

Although Museveni’s NRA guerrilla army achieved a decisive military victory, it inherited what I

am calling a ‘residue’ state, characterized by the persistence of resilient and well-entrenched elite

interests. These groups included the Protestant and Catholic churches, landed elites, a merchant

class, different monarchies and two strong political parties that survived the violent conflict.

President Museveni was thus forced to co-opt, collaborate with and make concessions to these

interests, which ultimately led to the creation of a broad-based system of governance designed

purposely to accommodate these varying interests. To consolidate his regime in power, Museveni

developed a strategy that hinged on cultivating a partnership between the military and these

different social groups. The findings of this research indicate that the Museveni regime has

separated out its interests from those of the military. The military is now under the control of the

40

regime and this has made the regime more secure than many of its critics52 suggest. Paradoxically,

Museveni has been able to construct some meaningful autonomy of the regime from the military.

As a result, due to the fear of military purges by the regime, army generals who under previous

regimes would resist instructions from unarmed politicians, are now willing to subject themselves

to orders and wishes of political actors serving regime interests. The regime doesn’t appear

vulnerable to popular uprisings, coups d'états or revolutions largely because of its reliance on the

military and its ability to co-opt its enemies. The greatest threat to the regime is how to handle

succession after its current leader departs; the failure to create a viable succession plan has raised

the risks of contested political succession, defections and regime collapse after Museveni.

The evidence suggests that post-conflict regime in Uganda is much more durable because of its

ability to co-opt the interests of different social groups, including those opposed to the regime.

While oppression and suppression of dissenting voices remains the hallmark of the regime, its

leader understands that he cannot entirely depend on oppressive means to rule and he cannot afford

to alienate the well-entrenched interests of various social groups whose origins date as far back as

the pre-colonial era. Therefore, understanding the resilience of the Museveni regime requires

understanding the tools it has used to remain in power for over three decades. These tools include:

(a) co-optation of a range of elites and the making of concessions to the interests of certain

powerful social groups. This strategy has helped the Museveni regime to thwart mass mobilization

by disgruntled groups and therefore survive in power. (b) Coercion through its reliance on the

military, which has grown more brutal in its use of force and decisive in detecting and putting

down dissent (see Chapter 3). While Museveni often practices patronage and makes policy

concessions, he falls back to the use of the military’s coercive power when his hold onto power is

more fundamentally threatened by his opponents. Moreover, the regime not only uses the army to

protect itself against political foes, it also relies on ethnic and family ties in the army to thwart

dissent within those ranks. (c) Forging alliances with powerful social groups as well as tolerating

and even encouraging elite corruption, which has become an effective tool in shoring up the

regime’s domestic support. When senior officers are encouraged to engage in corrupt practices, it

52 Angelo Izama and Michael Wilkerson (2011), “Uganda: Museveni's Triumph and Weakness”, Journal of Democracy, 22: 3, pp. 64-78. 35

41

creates a privileged group of loyalists who get trapped into compliance with and loyalty to the

political regime.

Rwanda: An Authoritarian Army with a State

Scholars such as Filip Reyntjens have pointed to the dominant role of the military in Rwanda’s

political system, describing the post-genocide political situation as an “army with a state”.53

However, what such accounts do not show is how Rwanda has evolved since genocide to become

a military dominated state. The above illustration show how genocide served as a critical juncture

to wipe out pre-existing and powerful social groups. The subsequent lack of well-entrenched social

groups to counterbalance the RPA/F contributed to the creation of a military dominated polity. In

contrast to the post-war regime in Uganda, the post-genocide regime in Rwanda inherited a

political structure that was much more shattered--without much surviving residue. Most of the

elites that were in control of the state before the genocide either fled the country, were arrested by

the RPF or died in the ensuing struggle for power. Hence, President Kagame’s RPF did not have

to make concessions or co-opt the interests of pre-existing social groups. This political vacuum

provided the opportunity for the elites within the RPF to transform what had been a guerrilla group

into a strong, centralized and remarkably loyal national army, purveying to the country and the

outside world an image of a strong cohesive military as a bulwark against genocide. This

construction has granted a high and risky amount of power to the military. Although President

Museveni is from a military background, he has created structures that allow the regime to wield

power and influence over the military. Unlike in Uganda where the military is effectively under

the control of regime elites, in Rwanda however it is the military that structures the political elites

to follow its own preferences. In other words, whereas the military serves as the agent of the

political elites in Uganda, the findings from this study suggests that the post-genocide regime in

Rwanda has created the exact opposite: political elites in Rwanda are subject to the interests of the

military. They promote and articulate the military’s agenda as the military sees itself as the chief

incumbent of the state and the regime. What explains Rwanda’s situation is the fact that the

interests of the military in post-genocide Rwanda was never counterbalanced by any surviving

“residue” social structure and this allowed the military to fuse its interest with those of the state

53 Filip Reyntjens (2011) “Constructing the truth, dealing with dissent, domesticating the world: Governance in post-genocide Rwanda.” African Affairs, Volume 110, Issue 438. p.13

42

and the regime. Thus, the three institutions are merged together with no clear distinction of

interests and roles.

Conceptualizing Post-Conflict State Reconstruction

Debates on state collapse and reconstruction continue to feature heavily in political science

literature.54 Reconstruction after a war is defined as the “process of rebuilding the country and

achieving sustainable peace, in the context of security, political governance and socio-economic

development.”55 Broadly speaking, the post-conflict reconstruction literature has focused on

institutional designs that affect the durability of postwar governance structures. Kumar,56 for

example, argues that, post-conflict reconstruction needs to focus on constructing informal and

formal institutions of the state, especially the restoration of order, the creation of physical

infrastructure and the provision of social services. Coyne57 underscores the difference between

state reconstruction, state-building and nation-building. Reconstruction is a broad concept that

encompasses a wide range of activities designed to restore and build socioeconomic and political

systems while state-building and nation-building activities represent a subset of reconstruction.58

At the micro-level, it incorporates a far-reaching approach that involves mobilizing communities

into activities designed to facilitate post-conflict recovery. The polices are planned and coordinated

by stakeholders with the aim of stimulating socioeconomic and political development in postwar

environments.

It is widely agreed that the postwar reconstruction of Japan and Germany set the standards for

reconstruction in the post-Cold War era. A long list of countries such as the Democratic Republic

of Congo, Namibia, El Salvador, Somalia, Mozambique, Sudan, Haiti, Bosnia, Kosovo,

54 Tilly, Charles ed. (1975) The Formation of National States in Western Europe, Princeton: Princeton University Press. 55 Theron, "Post-Conflict Reconstruction: The Case of Ethnicity in Burundi," Insight on Africa, vol. 3, pp. 143-158, 2011 56 Kumar, K (Ed.). (1997) Rebuilding Societies After War. Colorado: Lynne Rienner Publishers. 57 Coyne J. Christopher (2005) “The Institutional Prerequisites for Post-Conflict Reconstruction” The Review of Austrian Economics, 18:3/4, 325–342, 2005. 58 Coyne J. Christopher ibid.

43

Afghanistan, Iraq, Rwanda, Uganda, Burundi, Cambodia and Namibia have experienced varying

forms of civil violence and have undergone multiple phases of state reconstruction. As a result,

scholars have highlighted different approaches to rebuilding a postwar political order in societies

emerging from sustained episodes of violence and socioeconomic collapse.59 Some focus on the

building of the state’s capacity to monopolize violence within its territory60 while others underline

legitimacy as the foundation of the state’s ability to nurture and sustain stability, guarantee the

material well-being of citizens and ensure a monopoly on legitimate violence.61

Traditionally, modern states are expected to provide national security and monopolize violence

within their territory. Robert Rotberg notes that a state should have the ability to provide

decentralized public goods to citizens living in its borders. 62 Weber described the hallmark of the

state as its exclusive monopoly of legitimate violence and its ability to employ violence to achieve

certain goals.63 Thus, at its core, post-conflict state reconstruction strives to achieve “the

concentration of the means of coercion—in practical terms, armies and police—under the control

of a central political authority.”64 The effectiveness and legitimacy of these institutions determines

the state's capacity to govern. Daniel Lambach65 argues that, in addition to monopolizing

legitimate violence, the state should monopolize taxation and execution of rules and policies that

bind every citizen. For this matter, scholars point to the pervasiveness of violence and conflict

relapse in post-conflict societies to emphasize the extent to which states monopolize violence

(Wimmer and Min 2006, Thies 2005, Herbst 1990). They see legitimacy as a crucial element of

the state’s ability to perform its core functions such as domestic order, material well-being of its

citizens and a monopoly of legitimate violence (Spruyt 1994, Migdal 1998). The devastating

impact of conflict deprives postwar states of human, physical and financial resources to support

59 See, for example, Thies, Cameron G. (2007) “The Political Economy of State Building in Sub-Saharan Africa.” Journal of Politics, 69(3), 716-731. 60 Andreas Wimmer and Brian Min (2006) “From Empire to Nation-State: Explaining Wars in the Modern World, 1816-2011” American Sociological Review 71, p.867-897 [31p] 61 Hendrick Spruyt (1994) The Sovereign State and Its Competitors, Princeton University Press. 62 Rotberg, R. I. (2003). The failure and collapse of nation-states: Breakdown, prevention, and repair. Princeton: Princeton University Press. 63 Weber, M. (1964). The theory of social and economic organization (p. 154). New York: The Free Press. 64 Fukuyama, F. (2007). Liberalism versus state-building. Journal of Democracy, 18(3), 10–13 65 Lambach, D. (2007). Close encounters in the third dimension: The regional effects of state failure. In D. Lambach, & T. Debiel (Eds.), State failure revisited I: Globalization of security and neighborhood effects. Institute for Development and Peace. INEF Report 87/2007. http://inef.uni-due.de/page/documents/ Report87.pdf

44

socio-economic development. These states also struggle to monopolize legitimate violence,

leaving space for militias, rebels groups and terrorist organizations to operate, which further

creates the risk of internal conflict and state fragility.66 The collapse of state institutions and

governance in postwar states poses a serious threat to the well-being of citizens and is a key driver

of outsider roles in post-conflict state reconstruction.

Dynamics of state-building after war: The role of External Actors

In Africa, state reconstruction has come to represent a set of negative attributes inherent in the

African state.67 States that are emerging out of prolonged episodes of civil war and other forms

of socio-economic collapse are portrayed as divided, conflicted, insecure, dangerous and

illegitimate. They are described as states with no functioning institutions of authority such as

parliament, judicial systems, police, military and public service. Some see these states as posing a

threat to global security as they are potentially safe havens for terrorist groups, drugs and arms

traffickers, money launderers and other transnational armed groups. Post-conflict states are also

afflicted by sectarianism, tribalism and kinship.68 These problems are exacerbated by the lack of

functioning state institutions.69 Hence, scholars who argue for the enhanced role of the

international community in postwar reconstruction call for external actions to impose order and

stimulate development of war-torn societies.70 For example, Herbst71 suggests that, without

refurbishing the political, economic, and social fabric, post-conflict states may not be able to

succeed in providing political goods on their own––which could be a danger to the people in these

states and others. Foreign aid is thus essential for initiating development, stabilizing the society,

66 Stanley, William (1996) The Protection Racket State: Elite Politics, Military Extortion, and Civil War in El Salvador. Philadelphia, PA: Temple University Press. 67 Englebert, Pierre, and Denis M. Tull. “Postconflict Reconstruction in Africa: Flawed Ideas about Failed States.” International Security, vol. 32, no. 4, 2008, pp. 106–139 68 Milliken, J., & Krause, K. (2002). State Failure, State Collapse, and State Reconstruction: Concepts, Lessons and Strategies. Development and Change, 33(5), 753–774. 69 Dodge, T. (2006). Iraq: The contradictions of exogenous state-building in historical perspective. Third World Quarterly, 27(1), 187–200 70 Dodge, T. (2006). Iraq: The contradictions of exogenous state-building in historical perspective. Third World Quarterly, 27(1), 187–200 71 Herbst, J. (2004). Let them fail: State failure in theory and practice: Implications for policy. In R. I. Rotberg (Ed.), When states fail: Causes and consequences (pp. 302–318). Princeton: Princeton University Press.

45

promoting recovery and addressing the humanitarian needs of the people in the aftermath of a civil

conflict.72

Because post-conflict states lack institutional, human and financial resources to carry out

reconstruction, they are perceived to need help from external actors whose role is seen as vital in

preventing future conflicts. External actors, it is argued, can provide the funds to stabilize

governance, improve service delivery, support the security sector and guarantee microeconomic

stability. The suggestion is that exogenous state-reconstruction is necessary because conflict-

affected states have an impact on the international order. Reconstructing conflict-affected states is

therefore essential for world peace. The United Nations, international organizations, world powers

and regional blocs assume ‘strategic’ and ‘moral’ responsibility to intervene in order to help

citizens of states recovering from conflicts achieve peace, stability and democratization.73 Even

where active fighting has ended, there is a realization that sustainable peace and development

cannot be easily forthcoming, and that post-conflict state reconstruction is a complex and long-

term process. International organizations and coalition of countries contribute financial and

technical resources to address the causes of war and, in the process, shape the trajectory of postwar

state reconstruction. Their agenda includes the reconstruction of security apparatus so as to

establish an effective security sector that could re-establish a legitimate monopoly of violence.

Thus, building the capacity of the military and police is a critical component in the prevention of

“renewed conflict, establishment of rule of law, democratization, and sustainable development.”74

Post-conflict countries have embraced externally sponsored policy measures in areas such as

security, economic stabilization, infrastructure development and public sector reforms.

Scholars have argued that post-conflict states need support from the international community to

establish enduring measures to mitigate future conflict. For example, Mathew Saul argues that

without external help, conflict-affected states cannot achieve progress because they lack capacity

72 Carothers, T., & Marina O. (2004). States at risk—Stabilization and state-building by external intervention. Retrieved January 2004 at www.carnegieendowment.org. 73 Rotberg, R. I. (2003). The failure and collapse of nation-states: Breakdown, prevention, and repair. Princeton: Princeton University Press. 74 Brzoska Michael, (2006) "Introduction: Criteria for Evaluating Post-Conflict Reconstruction and Security Sector Reform in Peace Support Operations." International Peacekeeping 13.1: 1-13. Web. 6 Aug. 2019

46

to lead development on their own.75 The international community can be instrumental in the

building of state capacity, social and political norms and in shaping the behaviors of actors in the

postwar context. Fukuyama sees externally driven post-conflict reconstruction as a necessary

ingredient for providing security in war torn countries. He argues that since state institutions in

these states are non-functional, the international community could nurture security and stabilize

these states. Therefore, building an effective security sector, he argues, is essential for the “control

of belligerents; territorial security; protection of the populace; protection of key individuals,

infrastructure and institutions; reform of indigenous security institutions; and regional governance

and participation.”76

There is consensus among scholars that reconstruction should follow specific sequencing.77

Establishing security and order should come first followed by economic development and

democratization. The fear is that rushing post-conflict states into divisive elections is risky and

could lead to conflict relapse. A conflict may get frozen for a certain period. However, that does

not imply that the underlying issues that led to the conflict in the first place have been resolved.

Thus, sequencing is important because it allows time to comprehensively address the underlying

issues. Fukuyama, for example, points out that reconstruction should begin with the creation of a

coherent nation, “something that usually requires changing borders or moving populations and has

seldom in human history been accomplished without violence.”78 This is then followed by the

development of other institutions (public service, tax agencies, legislature, judiciary) to provide

public goods. Although reconstruction approaches differ from country to country, the purpose

remains the same: to reduce the risks of conflict recurrence. For that matter, political economists

argue that what post-conflict societies need is foreign aid so that they are able attain some levels

of economic growth. As Collier and Hoeffler argue: “Aid reduces the risk of conflict by raising

the growth rate. It is argued that a higher growth rate reduces the risk of conflict, and cumulatively,

by raising the level of income, further reduces the risk. These effects also appear to apply in post-

75 Mathew Saul, (2012) "The search for an international legal concept of democracy: lessons from the post-conflict reconstruction of Sierra Leone," Melbourne Journal of International Law, vol. 13, pp. 540-568. 76 Fukuyama Francis, (2014) “The Imperative of State-Building”, Journal of Democracy, Vol. 15. (Washington: Post book), pp. 135-136. 77 Fukuyama, F. (2007). Liberalism versus state-building. Journal of Democracy, 18(3), 10–13. 78 Fukuyama (2007) ibid p.10

47

conflict situations.”79 Likewise, Bigombe et al.80 underscore this argument when they claim that

economic development is very crucial in reducing the risk of conflict recurrence.

Some scholars hold that post-conflict state reconstruction should follow a particular logic of

Western liberal democracy. For example, Ottaway and Mair81 suggest the existence of a

“universal rule that failing states must be rebuilt consistent with the liberal democratic model, this

is a relatively new idea.” They further argue that the process of political and economic

reconstruction of failed states are “remarkably similar regardless of the size and characteristics of

the country being rebuilt.”82 The westernization of intervention under the banner of promoting

liberal democracy in post-war societies is also reflected in some policy debates. For example,

President George Bush likened post-conflict reconstruction in Iraq to the reconstruction of

Germany and Japan after World War II. He argued that “if setting up democracy in Japan and

Germany after WW II was successful, then it should also be successful in Iraq.”83 Proponents of

this approach argue that it has worked successfully, citing UN-led reconstruction efforts in

Namibia, Cambodia, El Salvador, and Mozambique.84 In these countries, the UN took the

responsibility of managing the recovery processes, including disarmament, reintegration and

demobilization, political reconciliation and organizing democratic elections.85 In some countries

such as Cambodia, the UN played an active role in governing the transition from conflict to

democracy. The general idea behind this approach is that “democracy can be exported to non-

79 Collier, P., & Hoeffler, A. (2004). The challenge of reducing the global incidence of civil war. Challenge Paper. Centre for the Study of African Economies, Department of Economics, Oxford University, Copenhagen, p. 22. 80 Bigombe, B., Collier, P., & Sambanis, N. (2002). Policies for building post-conflict peace. Journal of African Economies, 9(3), 322–347. 81 Ottaway, M., & Mair, S. (2004). States at risk and failed states: putting security first. In: Carnegie Endowment for International Peace: Policy Outlook, democracy and Rule of Law Project. Retrieved from www. carnegieendowment.org. 82 (Ottaway and Mair (2004) ibid. p. 1 83 Bridoux, J. (2010). American foreign policy and postwar reconstruction: Comparing Japan and Iraq. London: Routledge. 84 Yosef Jabareen, “Conceptualizing ‘Post-Conflict Reconstruction’ and ‘Ongoing Conflict Reconstruction’ of Failed States,” International Journal of Politics, Culture, and Society 26, no. 2 (2012): 107-125. 85 RAND; Dobbins, J., Jones, S. G., Crane, K., Rathmell, A., Steele, B., Teltschik, R., & Timils, A. (2005) America’s role in nation-building: From Germany to Iraq (p. 1). Santa Monica: RAND.

48

Western societies.”86 Other scholars argue that, for the reconstruction to succeed, it should take a

holistic approach involving multi-level actors working on different levels to develop and reinforce

local and national institutions.87The aim is to reconstruct both the physical infrastructure, rules

and institutions to facilitate a “self-sustaining economy which can deliver essential services.”88

According to the World Bank89 economic reconstruction should aim to reduce the risk of conflict

relapse through creating conditions for productivity and improving the incomes of the people. The

World Bank sees its role as facilitating the transition from conflict to peace in affected countries

“through the rebuilding of the socioeconomic framework of the society.”90 In addition, other

development agencies fund the activities of local NGOs engaged in a wide range of socio-

economic and political empowerment programs in areas of education, civil society,

entrepreneurships, reconciliation and transitional justice.

Despite the increased role of external actors in the post-conflict reconstruction, scholars have

highlighted the weaknesses of this externally driven reconstruction process, such as the impact it

brings on state capacity and how it makes weak states vulnerable to conditional barriers.

Moreover, too much reliance on external subventions and security measures creates a relationship

of dependence. Yet, the fundamental challenge confronting “war-makers” who have won armed

conflict is how to demonstrate to their own citizens that they are credible leaders who are

committed to building a legitimate, effective state and ruling regime in the aftermath of a conflict.

The case of Uganda and Rwanda shows that state-building is rarely an exclusively external

endeavor. Postwar state-builders in both countries had to contend with several interests of

endogenous actors in their state building projects as a mechanism for attaining credibility by the

new regimes.

86 USAID (2005). “Principles of development and reconstruction assistance” p. 33. Retrieved from http://www.usaid. gov/policy/2005_nineprinciples.html. 87 USAID (2005) Ibid. 88 USAID (2006). Iraq Transition Strategy Plan 2006–2008. Washington: USAID. Visser, G. (2001). Social justice, integrated development planning and post-apartheid urban reconstruction. Urban Studies, 38, 1673–1699. 89 World Bank (1998) “Post Conflict Reconstruction: The Role of the World Bank” World Bank: Washington DC. p.14. 90 World Bank (1998). ibid. p. 14

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Indeed, despite the growing focus on post-war reconstruction, especially in the global south,

empirical evidence suggests limited success.91 The failure of reconstruction can be attributed to

three flawed assumptions that underpin the contemporary reconstruction efforts: The first is the

idea that Western political institutions can be replicated in Africa. The second is a false belief that

exogenous forces, especially Western actors, are more important than indigenous forces in the

reconstruction process. The third is the fact that our knowledge of postwar reconstruction is largely

informed by failed post-conflict processes.92 The fourth is the complete disregard of the role of

entrenched endogenous factors (“residue social structure”) in postwar reconstruction, an issue that

is the subject of this dissertation. To be clear, there are some researchers who have explored cases

of reconstruction failures such as Bieber’s93work on Bosnia, Barron and Burke’s94 work on

Indonesia and Adedokun’s95 on Mozambique. However, an important question regarding the role

of pre-existing sociopolitical structures in the reconstruction processes remains unanswered. Thus,

by focusing on this neglected question, this dissertation enhances our understanding of the postwar

reconstruction process. The focus of this dissertation is to show how the

“residue” social structures that survive a civil war have an independent impact in the postwar

socio-political and economic systems. I employ Historical Institutionalism (HI) to examine the

effect of the “residue” social structure on postwar reconstruction in Uganda as well as the impact

of its absence in post-genocide Rwanda. Historical Institutionalism is effective at exploring the

socioeconomic and political processes in countries in which the “residue” social structure

impacted the process of state-reconstruction in the aftermath of armed conflict.

91 Englebert, Pierre and Denis M. Tull. 2008. ‘‘Postconflict Reconstruction in Africa: Flawed Ideas about Failed States.’’ International Security 32(4): 106–139. 92 Walter, Barbara F. (2004), “Does Conflict Beget Conflict? Explaining Recurring Civil War.” Journal of Peace Research 41(3):371–388. 93 Bieber, Florian (2005), “Local Institutional Engineering: A Tale of Two Cities: Mostar and Brcko. International Peacekeeping, Vol.12, No.3, pp.420 – 33. 94 Barron, Patrick and Adam Burke (2008). Supporting Peace in Aceh: Development Agencies and International Involvement. Policy Studies no. 47. Washington, D.C.: East-West Center. 95 Adedokun, Ayokunu, (2016) “Pathways to Sustainable Peacebuilding in Divided Societies: Lessons and Experiences from Mozambique.” PhD Dissertation, Maastricht University/United Nations University (UNU-MERIT), Netherlands

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State-Making in a Postwar Context

There are two different but interconnected accounts of state-making and state reconstruction after

war. The first is a violence-based account that follows the tradition of Max Weber96 and neo-

Weberian scholars such as Charles Tilly, Theda Skocpol and Michael Mann.97 Weber’s state

formation account posits that states emerged through a coercive process executed by violent actors

who established a monopoly of legitimate violence.98 He provides two elements to his definition

of the state: First, he defined a state as “a human community that successfully claims the monopoly

of the legitimate use of physical force within a given territory.”99 Second, he described the modern

state as “a relation of men dominating men, a relation supported by means of legitimate

violence”100 What is significant in Weber's conceptualization is that the hallmark of the state lies

in its exclusive monopoly of violence and its ability to employ violence to achieve certain goals.

The second element of Weber's conceptualization is thus legitimacy.101 Legitimacy, according to

Weber, emanates from rationally devised rule by virtue of ‘legality’ rooted in the belief in the

validity of legal statute and juridical competence. He argues that the legitimacy of those who wield

the instruments of violence is central because it defines the nature of the state-society

relationship.102 What this means is that the legitimacy of the state is not only dependent on the

monopoly of violence but also on voluntary cooperation and acceptance from citizens.

The second account follows an institutionalist approach to state-building, which has become

popular within the discipline of political science.103 Many scholars focus on the state’s institutions

and its capacity by referring to the administrative structures of government. Institutionalists

highlight the physical and material roles of the state such as provision of security and other public

goods as a basis of the state's control of violence, which constitutes a parameter upon which the

state's capacity is judged. The apparatus of the state, in this case, is construed to be a separate entity

that is distinct from the rest of the society. Prominent social scientists who have popularized the

96 Weber, Max (1947): The Theory of Social and Economic Organization, Glencoe: The Free Press, pp. 95-105. 97 Tilly 1975, Tilly (1990). ibid. 98 Weber, Marx., (1946), ibid. 99 Weber, Max (1948a) “Politics as a vocation” in: Hans H Gerth and Charles W Mills (eds & translated) From Max Weber: essays in sociology New York City, NY, United States: Oxford University Press; pp.78–128 100 Weber, Max. ibid. Pg. 78 101 Weber, Max (1994) Max Weber: Political Writings, ed & translated Peter Lassman and Ronald Speirs (Cambridge, United Kingdom: Cambridge University Press) 102 Weber, Marx., 1946, ibid, pp. 77-128 103 Lottholz, Philipp. (2016) “Exploring the boundaries of knowledge via hybridity” Journal of intervention and statebuilding, 10:1, 136–142

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neo-Weberian approach include Charles Tilly, Theda Skocpol and Michael Mann, among others.

For instance, Tilly identifies a process of protection and extraction within a broad context of war-

making and state-making, facilitating the transition of racketeer groups from protection rackets of

former warlords into state-like institutions. He argues that ‘war-making and state-making’

emerged in form of ‘organized crime’.104 Tilly presents a process through which state elites

inadvertently consolidate positions of power by acting like protection rackets. They offer security

in return for extraction, which in the long run contributes to the development of a modern state.105

Two considerations are central to Tilly’s analysis: First, it is apparent that protection is a double-

edged sword. It is required to guarantee the safety of citizens from threats, but it also comes at a

cost to citizens because the state itself can be a source of insecurity and threats. Like racketeers,

the state can manufacture threats for extraction purposes, sell the threat to the public but then

provide security against the same threat at a cost to civilians. The difference between racketeers

and governments is that while governments have legitimacy, racketeers do not.

Weaknesses of Dominant Approaches to Postwar State-Building

While the Weberrian and the neo-Weberian conceptualization of the state has gained prominence

across major social science disciplines, a violence-based account of the process of state formation

does not tell us much about the nature and the crisis underpinning post-colonial African states.

The present-day state in Africa did not follow the organic process of state formation as envisaged

by Tilly and Weber (and Tilly himself later conceded that his work is not intended to explain all

cases). Indeed, the form of the modern African state was imposed by colonial powers who sought

to exploit the continent both politically and economically. The state did not emerge through an

indigenous process; it was a foreign-imposed phenomenon with artificial borders. The structural

designs of the African state were conceived and constructed from outside and simply forced onto

Africa, often without the knowledge and consent of ordinary Africans. The African state has

therefore remained both colonial in nature and a foreign construct in the minds of some indigenous

Africans who still see it as an alien institution.

104 Tilly, Charles., (1975), The Formation of National States in Western Europe, Princeton University Press, Princeton, NJ. PP. 42. 105 Tilly, Charles., (1985) ‘War Making and State Making as Organized Crime’, in Peter Evans, Dietrich Rueschemeyer and Theda Skocpol, eds, Bringing the State Back In, Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, pp. 169-191.

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In addition, the imposition of a colonial state by Europeans in the late 19th century was achieved

through an illegitimate process.106 A conquest process sought to deprive Africans of their culture,

values and norms. Many colonial administrators helped to dismantle African culture, which they

considered to be barbaric, archaic and primitive.107In areas where the colonial government could

not dismantle structures of the African “residue” social structure, it chose to co-opt them into the

colonial administrative system using indirect rule. The colonial state derived its status from the

sovereignty of colonial powers who imposed and consolidated a hegemonic status over Africa.

Colonial hegemonies dominated certain aspects of African society and, in doing so, devalued

African people and denied them a full state in their own political and social institutions. Moreover,

having acquired the African colonies through conquest, colonial powers did not introduce

constitutionalism, democracy or civil liberties. Instead, they sought to either dismantle,

marginalize or co-opt African sociopolitical organizations and introduced new cultural systems

steeped in Western ethnocentric biases. Therefore, the significance of the “residue” social structure

is manifested in the way colonial administrators encountered and dealt with pre-existing social

groups composed of kingships/kingdoms, local elites, organized communities and clan systems in

many parts of Africa.

Since European colonialists possessed superior technology in warfare, they easily forced a state

onto Africans, often without encountering significant armed challenges from indigenous groups in

what would constitute a Weberian struggle for the monopoly of legitimate violence. Although

some local groups staged some forms of armed resistance against European colonizers, their

inferiority both in terms of resources and technology meant that their actions could not pose serious

or long-term obstacles to the colonial powers' exclusive control over the use of force. Initially, the

scramble for Africa created potential for conflicts among European powers, particularly between

the French and the British over African territories such as West Africa, East Africa and Egypt. The

success of the Berlin Conference meant that Great Britain, France, Portugal and Belgium managed

to avoid armed conflicts against each other by agreeing on a mechanism for partitioning Africa

among themselves. What this means is that in the creation of an African state, colonial state-makers

were able to avoid a struggle amongst themselves for the legitimate monopoly of violence. Instead

African communities had to surrender their sovereignty to colonial masters with some form of

106 Muiu, Mueni Wa. (2010) "Colonial and Postcolonial State and Development in Africa." Social Research 77, no. 4: 1311-338 107 Frederick, Lugard. (1965) The Dual Mandate in British Tropical Africa London: Frank Cass, 65, 72.

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resistance that was certainly crushed by Europeans. The ‘legitimacy’ of the colonial system then

did not stem from the assent of the colonized population but from the success of the Berlin

Conference, which makes the logic of the formation of the African state distinct from Tilly’s

conceptualization.

Neo-Weberian institutionalist scholars agree that the building of institutions and state structures

forms a foundation for legitimacy. However, since the colonial state was a foreign construction

imposed on Africa, indigenous Africans were denied nationhood, a potential legitimizing force for

the state. It can therefore be argued that, right from the start, European colonialists constructed the

African state as a racialized, paternalized and authoritarian state.108 Equally important, when the

state was imposed on Africa, effective extraction by war-makers as envisaged by Tilly was not

possible because there was insufficient surplus to extract in the first place.109 Thus, state-making

required building first the capacity for extraction. Colonial administrators had to invest in the

development of extractive industries (such as mineral exploration and agricultural production)

through establishing enterprises to facilitate capital accumulation. These institutions were never

developed to serve the needs of Africans but rather to facilitate exploitative goals of the colonial

masters.

While indigenous African actors played a significant role in de-colonization through fighting for

self-determination, the process of decolonization never achieved a complete military victory by

Africans against Europeans. Again then, the states that emerged were not a function of the

Weberian struggle for the control of legitimate force. In fact, in many African countries, post-

independence leaders simply inherited the colonial state with all its imperfections created by this

political process. In fact, it could be argued that the decolonization process was largely, but not

entirely, driven by global anti-colonial movements of the 1950s and 1960s. Pressure from anti-

colonial movements both from Africa and abroad inspired the indigenization of the political

process––i.e., a full transfer of administrative power from European administrators to Africans.

While a handful of indigenous groups engaged in violent civil resistance against colonialism and

108 Crawford Young (1994) The African Colonial State in Comparative Perspective. New Haven: Yale University Press. 109 SØRENSEN, Georg., (2001). “War and State-Making: Why doesn’t it Work in the Third World?” Security Dialogue, 32(3), 341–354.

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thus accelerated demands for self-rule, for the most part colonial powers handed over control of

colonial states to African leaders without full-blown war in what was seen as an attempt to correct

the ills of colonialism through the indigenization of administration. What this means, however, is

that post-independence African leaders inherited a weak state that was in perpetual crisis,

incapacitated and unable to project power and relevance. As result, the African state was unable

to meet the expectations of Africans.

Following the decolonization process, the first generation of post-independence African leaders

who inherited the state from colonizers were forced to govern through a series of crises––many

emanating from the failure to understand and accommodate the interests of the “residue” social

structure. This failure created internal socioeconomic and political crises of order-making and

nation-building. While some post-independence leaders tried to integrate and co-opt the “residue”

social structure, others failed to do so which led to dismal performance in the concentration and

monopoly of legitimate instruments of violence. Consequently, the post-independence state

quickly lost legitimacy as African people disengaged from the state and turned their focus to

traditional autonomous institutions (such as kingdoms, clanships and chiefdoms) ––institutions of

the “residue” social structure that commanded more legitimacy than the ‘artificial’ post-colonial

state. Inexorably, others formed armed groups led by warlords and guerrilla leaders to fight for the

control of and protection from a predatory state and, in some areas, secession from the state.

Since the end of colonialism, most states in Africa have not faced a serious existential threat

(external military conquest). While there have been a few cases of external and internal actors

violating each other’s territorial sovereignty (Uganda and Rwanda vs Congo, Ethiopia vs Somalia,

USA/NATO vs Libya, etc.), such violations tend to be temporary and do not constitute full-blown

foreign occupation or conquest as was the case during colonialism. More so, in contrast to Tilly’s

study on Europe, post-colonial African states and regimes are protected from external threats by

strong international norms and institutions such as the African Union, the United Nations, and the

International Criminal Court.110 In fact, post-independence African states have been more

concerned with internal threats to peace and stability than with external aggression or

recolonization. With the exception of what Filip Reyntjens has called “the Great Africa War”

110 Jackson, R.H. & Rosberg, C.G., (1982) ibid. pp.1-24.

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(namely, the 1998-2003 war in DRC)111 interstate wars are rare in Africa. This, however, does not

suggest a reduction in the level of violent conflicts in Africa. Inter-state wars were a common

occurrence during the cold war period. The past four decades however has seen a transformation

of violence from interstate wars to domestic coalitions of regime leaders who are trying to

consolidate their power against internal rivals. The relative absence of interstate wars has meant

that African powerholders fundamentally have to think in terms of one-front battles i.e., attacking

and defeating internal rivals within their territory (rather than primarily attacking and checking

external rivals outside their territory, which runs counter to Tilly’s conceptualization). Of course,

a large number of post-colonial violent conflicts in Africa were fueled by Cold War rivalries

(1970s-1980s). Still, the involvement of Cold War powers in proxy wars in Africa never threatened

the entire survival of African states in the way envisaged by Tilly. Hence, large-scale interstate

wars as an important component of state formation is a less important factor in the African context.

Tracing the origins of the “Residue” Social Structure in the Pre-Colonial African State

Whereas colonization is broadly considered the most important element in the evolution of the

modern African state,112 we cannot assume that before the scramble and partition of Africa the

continent lacked any home-grown semblance of statehood. Certainly, colonialization created state

boundaries and provided state structures such as constitution, government and other bureaucratic

systems. It also played an important role in transforming how the African state was linked to the

global economy as Africa became a source of raw materials to support Western industrialization.

Still, we should not ignore the fact that European colonizers, merchants, evangelists, and explorers

encountered thriving African political structures such as kingdoms, clan systems, religion, local

chiefs and remains of ancient civilizations.113 George Ayittey has identified two types of pre-

colonial African political formation: stateless (acephalous) societies and states with centralized

authorities.114 Stateless societies included Igbo of Nigeria, the Kung of Liberia, the Tallenssi of

Ghana, the Somalis, Jie of Uganda and Mbeere of Kenya. State societies were unified societies

that were conquered through Tilly’s warfare process or those that voluntarily surrendered during

war. Such societies had centralized systems of administration led by chiefs or kings. The chiefs

111 Reyntjens, Filip., (2009) The Great African War: Congo and Regional Geopolitics, 1996-2006. New York: Cambridge University Press, 2009 112 John Ruedy, (1992) Modern Algeria: The Origins and Development of a Nation: Bloomington, Ind.: Indiana University Press 113 Emery, WB., 1(961) Archaic Egypt. London: Penguin Books 114 Ayittey George., (1991) Indigenous African Institutions. Transnational Publishers inc. New York., 71-72.:

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were in charge of administration and built structures such as judicial institutions to assist them in

exercising their authority.115

The organization and the nature of political power under stateless societies has been the subject of

intense debate. Some scholars argue that, despite lacking centralized political organization, such

polities still exhibited certain traits of statehood. The presence of a state was reflected in form of

‘a community’ in which the general welfare of every citizen was paramount. Some scholars argue

that the pre-colonial African state resembled a kind of ‘communism’ because it was built on a

notion that everyone in the community, rather than a few, mattered.116 Many pre-colonial African

societies were politically organized by lineage, which connected families to the state and which

allowed the state to penetrate the smallest unit of social organization (the family) and use it as a

foundation for achieving its political objectives, i.e., gain political support and consent.117 Even in

stateless societies, however, the management of political power (e.g., by clan heads) was

paramount. They also made efforts to defend themselves against external aggression. There is a

view that, by remaining stateless, such societies were trying to avoid the dangers of having a

system of centralized authority in which power is monopolized by an individual or a few

individuals. The fear was that centralized authority could breed autocracy.118 As a result, some

African societies avoided centralizing power and also developed mythical narratives about abuse

of power.119 Moreover, even in societies with centralized states, there were elements of checks

and balances to restrain leaders from abusing their power.120 Many of these forms of political

organization have deep historical roots. Christopher Ehret121 has highlighted that the civilization

of Africa was noticeable between 16,000 BCE to 1800 CE. He argues that Africa possessed

advanced inventions in socio-cultural as well as technological and economic spheres. African

115 Buttner, Thea., (1970) “The Economic and Social Character of Pre-Colonial States in Tropical Africa” Journal of the Historical Society of Nigeria, vol. 5, no. 2, 1970, pp. 275–289. 116 Curtin, Philip D., et al. (1995) African History: From Earliest Times to Independence. 2d ed. London: Longman 117 Ayittey, George. (1992) Ibid. 118 Morea, Cameron., (2013) “Power and Agency in Pre-colonial Africa States” The Annual Review of Anthropology 42:17–35 119 De Maret P (1985) “The smith’s myth and the origin of leadership in Central Africa”. In African Iron Working, ed. R Haaland, P Shinnie, pp. 73–87. Bergen, Norway: Nor. Univ. Press 120 Olowu, Dele., (19940 “The nature and Character of the African State” Paper presented at AAPAM 15th Roundtable at Banjul, Gambia, 24 – 29 January 1994. 121 Ehret, Christopher., (1998) An African Classical Age: Eastern and Southern Africa in World History, 1000 BC to AD 400 Charlottesville: University Press of Virginia, pp. 5.

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civilizations were exhibited in a series of identifiable traits (i.e., irrigation agriculture, metallurgy,

divine kingship, monumental art and architecture, etc.).

These developments did not occur in isolation to the rest of the world. It has been argued that signs

of socio-cultural progress that were visible in Africa between 16,000 BCE and 1800 CE were as a

result of contact with the outside world ( and thus facilitated the logic of European enterprise in

Africa).122 Jean-François Bayart and Stephen Ellis have long argued that Africa has always been

globally connected.123 They dismissed the view held by scholars such Hegel that Africa was an

'enclave', existing in 'isolation' covered by deserts and forests.124 This simplistic view of Africa

has been debunked by other scholars too. States along the Nile Valley and the Horn, for example,

had links with the ancient Mediterranean region.125 Contact with the outside world was even more

widespread among Swahili communities across coastal areas, western Sahel and the Atlantic coast.

They established trade and social ties with medieval Islamic and modern European civilizations.126

As highlighted by Landau,127indigenous African formations have survived and interacted with

different socio-political occurrences. In countries such as South Africa, indigenous socio-political

and economic traditions mutated and occasionally vanished from view but survived against the

odds in several forms and persist today.128

Despite well-documented signs of African socio-economic and political institutions, several

misconceptions drive narratives on pre-colonial Africa. There is a tendency to perceive pre-

colonial Africa as a product of outside stimuli.129 In reality, however, pre-colonial polities had

autochthonous “origins of social complexity and the state in Africa.”130 Thus, political formations

122 Fagan, B., (1981) “Two hundred and four years of African archaeology.” In J. D. Evans, B. W. Cunliffe, and A. C. Renfrew (eds), Antiquity and Man: Essey in Honor of Glyn Daniel, London: Thames and Hudson, 396-421 123 Bayart, Jean-François, and Stephen Ellis (2000) “Africa in the World: A History of Extraversion.” African Affairs, vol. 99, no. 395, 2000, pp. 217–267. 124 W. F. Hegel, Lectures on the Philosophy of World History ((1830), translated and introduced by H. B. Nisbet and Duncan Forbes (Cambridge University Press, Cambridge, 1 975), p. 1 74. 125 Posnansky M., (1976) “Archaeology and the origins of the Akan society in Ghana.” In Problems in Economic and Social Archaeology, ed. GdG Sieveking, IH Longworth, KE Wilson, G Clark, pp. 49–58. London: Duckworth 126 Bovill EW., (1958) The Golden Trade of the Moors. London/New York: Oxford University Press 127 Landau S. Paul., (2010) Popular Politics in the History of South Africa, New York: Cambridge University Press: 1400–1948. 128 Etherington, Norman. (2001) The Great Treks: The Transformation of South Africa, 1815–1854. Harlow: Longman. 129 Monroe. ibid. 130 Monroe. ibid.

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in many parts of Africa preceded colonialism.131 For instance, aspects of political organization

were visible in areas such as agricultural production, local and inter-community trade and leaders

using different mechanisms to concentrate power.132 The influence of the state manifested itself

in form of social hierarchies, territorial expansion, economic specialization and trade relations.133

As a result, statesmen emerged and built empires and kingdoms with the objective of controlling

the booming trade. These included kingdoms such as Soninke, Mali, Songhay and the Hausa states

of northern Nigeria. These structures should provide us with insights for the comparative study of

state formation in Africa. It should be emphasized that the attributes of the state were never

uniform across Africa. State structures were more developed and organized in some parts of the

continent but inadequately developed or lacking in other parts. As already highlighted, the colonial

administration sought both to destroy, exploit but also integrate existing structures of the pre-

colonial African state. In some areas, the aim was to replace African systems of government with

Western political structures and ideals.134 Yet, despite the efforts to undermine African social

structures, these structures remained resilient and persisted in many African countries. To date,

socio-cultural structures such as kingdoms, chiefdoms, clans and customs still serve the

contemporary needs of the African people. These evolving structures (that socially and historically

constructed) constitute the “residue” social structure whose role in the reconstruction of the

postwar state in Africa is the subject of this dissertation.

The Colonial State: Destruction and Endurance of African “Residue” Social Structure

The colonial state was then created and consolidated by both force and incorporation of certain

elements of pre-colonial “residue” social structure mainly through indirect rule.135 At the end of

the 19th century European countries claimed territories in Africa and assumed administration of

131 Ehret, Christopher., (2002) The Civilizations of Africa: A History to 1800. Charlottesville: University of Virginia Press 132 Roberts, Robert. (1998). “The Possibilities of Precolonial West African History.” Canadian Journal of African Studies / Revue Canadienne Des Études Africaines, 32(1), 162-173. 133 Hassan F., (1997) “The dynamics of a riverine civilization: a geoarchaeological perspective on the Nile Valley, Egypt” World Archaeology. 29:51–74 134 Mamdani, Mahmood (2001) “Beyond Settler and Native as Political Identities: Overcoming the Political Legacy of Colonialism.” Comparative Studies in Society and History 43, no. 4: 651–64. 135 A. H. M. Kirk-Greene, (1980) “The Thin White Line: The Size of the British Colonial Service in Africa.” African Affairs, 79: 25, 44

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these spheres of influence.136 These were Britain, France, Germany, Belgium (initially through

King Leopold’s private initiative), Portugal and Italy. A number of factors motivated European

colonialism. They included the desire to enhance national prestige, the need for African raw

materials to support European industrialization, the need for a market for Europe's surplus

production, the desire to control strategic posts such as waterways and personal gain.137 The logic

of European imperialism in Africa was based on ‘Western civilization’. They cited ‘western

civilization’ to justify colonial actions, claiming that they had the right to teach Africans European

religious values, rational thought, justice and liberty.

The scramble for and partition of Africa culminated in the displacement and bastardization of pre-

colonial political, social and economic structures in favor of European-imposed structures. Two

attributes underpin the colonial state: First, at its core, it was based on the concept of racial

superiority. European colonial administrators saw themselves as having a right to dismantle

whichever ‘inferior’ institutions they encountered during the colonization process. Second, it was

rooted in indirect rule. Although the architects of the colonial regime were motivated by the need

to extract resources, they also realized that they could not achieve their objectives without gaining

some form of consent and extra manpower from indigenous Africans. A strategy of indirect rule

was thus developed to co-opt African middlemen, tribal chiefs and kings as allies. Local chiefs

were transformed into local potentates with absolutist power conferred upon them by colonial

governors.138 Colonial officers such as Captain Fredrick Lugard identified and cultivated local

chiefs and then used them as intermediaries in colonial management. 139 Lugard described indirect

rule as a system based on the premise that Britain “possessed a ‘dual mandate’ to, on the one hand,

colonize territories and extract wealth from them and, on the other, to help backward peoples to

progress.”140 Therefore, different kinds of people were involved in shaping the colonial state and

they were not only Europeans; African chiefs, translators, tax collectors, school teachers and local

leaders were also involved. They worked under the direct orders of European administrators,

136 A. Adu Boahen, ed., (1990) “General History of Africa, viii. Africa under Colonial Domination, 1880–1935” (Paris: UNESCO. Available online: http://unesdoc.unesco.org/images/0018/001842/184297eo.pdf (Accessed November 10, 2018) 137 H. L. Wesseling, (2004) The European Colonial Empires, 1815–1919, tr. Diane Webb Harlow: Pearson, PP 148. 138 Margery Perham, (1960) The Year of Adventure, 1858–1898, and Lugard: The Years of Authority, 1898–1945 London: Collins, 1956 and 1960. 139 Frederick Lugard, (1965) The Dual Mandate in British Tropical Africa: London, Frank Cass, 65, 72. 140 Sharkey, H. J., (2013). “African colonial states.” In J. Parker & R. Reid (Eds.), The Oxford handbook of modern African history pp. 151-170. Oxford: Oxford University Press. Pp:3

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military men, missionaries and civilian elites such as British District Officers. In stateless societies,

colonial administrators created “warrant chiefs” with powers to conduct administrative affairs. As

Wunsc has emphasized, the colonial state symbolized two essential elements: Philosophically, it

was an `elitist, centrist and absolutist' state.141 Politically, power was concentrated by colonial

authorities who had all the authority to establish and interpret rules the way they wanted. Even

where power was ‘shared’ with local elites under the indirect rule system, it was however the

decisions and opinions of colonial authorities that mattered.142 African elites who were co-opted

into the indirect rule system simply served as subordinates.

In what follows, I present varying scholarly perspectives on the post-colonial African state. The

dominant narrative that cuts across academic literatures on the African state is that it has remained

weak and conflict-ridden. Some of these weaknesses are rooted in the idea that the post-colonial

African state assumed the elements of a colonial state and failed to ground itself within Africa,

representing the interests and aspirations of Africans. Thus, the post-colonial state is

fundamentally less integrated than precolonial state both vertically and horizontally. It is

disconnected from its pre-colonial history and distant from its own people. It lacks norms, a moral

compass as well as the structural organization necessary to respond to the needs of the African

people.

Post-Colonial African State in Comparative Perspective

Since the end of colonialism there has been a wide range of suggestions on how to conceptualize

the post-colonial African state, with a focus on the economic, political and social fundamentals

that underpin its underdevelopment. In the eyes of some scholars, the post-colonial state remains

a work in progress.143 It is a state that is still undergoing formation. Unlike Europe, Africa still

lacks prosperous, stable and viable states. The crop of African leaders who assumed the

administration of the African state in the aftermath of independence begun the first phase of post-

colonial state-building, seeking to transform African polities from agrarian societies to state-led

political entities. However, a majority of these post-independence revolutionary leaders did not

141 Wunsch, J.S. & D. Olowu eds (1990) The Failure of the Centralized African State: Institution and Self- Governance in Africa Boulder Colorado, Westview Press, pp:23 142 Richard, Hall., (1976) Zambia, 1890–1964: The Colonial Period. London: Longman. 143 Young, Crawford (2004) “The End of the Post-Colonial State in Africa? Reflections on Changing African Political Dynamics” African Affairs, vol. 103, no. 410.

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achieve their objective of transforming the African society and often presided over civil war and

ethnic violence. The problem of endemic violence in post-colonial Africa was exacerbated by Cold

War rivalries that saw Africa turned into an epicenter for proxy wars between the world’s

superpowers (USA and USSR).

Yet the economic decay and political weaknesses of the African state persisted throughout the 20th

and the 21st centuries. Several factors are responsible for these enduring weaknesses. They include,

among others, the legacy of colonial rule which left African communities divided along tribal and

ethnic lines, Cold War politics that fueled civil wars and divided the continent along ideological

lines, Africa’s own lack of postcolonial vision for national building, the adoption of externally

induced economic models (liberalism, neoliberal democracy, etc.) that were designed in the

Western and imposed on Africa.

African studies scholars generally describe the political development of the post-colonial African

state as going through a certain cycle. Crawford Young identifies three cycles of hope and

disappointment that underpin the post-independence African state.144 They include the euphoria

that followed independence in the 1960s; the emergence of single-party authoritarian and military

rule; the renewed hope, radicalization and ambitious state expansion of the 1970s; state failure of

the 1980s; and the phase of reborn optimism during the democratization wave of 1990s. However,

what is overlooked in Young’s analysis is an explanation of how a third cycle after the Third Wave

in 1991, with some states experiencing new forms of political violence while others that had shown

promising democratic progress either turning to neopatrimonialism and authoritarianism or sliding

back into dictatorship.

In his examination of war and the state in Africa, Jeffrey Herbst argues that war produces

fundamental changes in the state’s economic policies, administrative structures, and citizen-state

relations. 145 He draws a fundamental distinction between state formation in Africa and state

formation in Europe. While war had a significant impact on the formation of the European state,

the continent of Africa has fundamentally experienced a different kind of conflict that does not

144 Young, Crawford. (2012) The Postcolonial State in Africa: Fifty Years of Independence, 1960–2010. Madison: University of Wisconsin Press. 145 Herbst, Jeffrey., (1990) “War and the State in Africa.” International Security, vol. 14, no. 4, 1990, pp. 117–139.

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produce the same impact on the state evolution. The key problem confronting African state-

builders is how to project authority over territories that are inhospitable and less populated. He

called this a ‘challenge of political geography” which cannot be ignored by African leaders. He

further argued that African statesmen responded to such a challenge by developing a particular

type of state system designed specifically to help them confront the difficulties they encountered

in exercising their authority within their territories. To enhance their political control, African

leaders engaged in a number of strategies ranging from construction of loyalties, the use of

coercion and infrastructure development. State-making in Africa was thus different from Europe

in many ways: first, high population density in Europe increased pressure on states to build the

capacity to fight wars, yet in Africa states were created at a time when many African cities were

sparsely populated. Second, unlike in Europe where state formation was about land and territorial

conquest, state-making in Africa was aimed at capturing people (women, cattle, slaves). In contrast

to Europe, wars of territorial conquest are a rare phenomenon in Africa. Third, the availability of

‘exit’ in which people could escape the arm of the state was scant in Europe yet in Africa territories

are not contested and it is easy for people to escape from fighting wars on behalf of their rulers.

Finally, when it comes to state power projection and cultural homogenization, African states were

much more dynamic and ephemeral and their failure to project power was rooted in cultural

diversity, yet in Europe the ability to project power led to cultural homogenization.

Writing in a similar context, Acemoglu and Robinson 146 blame the state crisis in Africa on

incomplete centralization of political power. They argue that lack of a strong political

centralization encourages the burgeoning of different political entities within a territory competing

for the right to exercise coercive power. Although the degree of state weakness in Africa varies

from state to state, the general limitation in state capacity across Africa should be of a particular

concern. It is the failure of the African state to centralize political power that explains why states

such as Botswana have been successful at achieving stability and government effectiveness, while

conflict-ridden states such as DR Congo, Burundi and Sierra Leone, among others, have failed.

Joel Migdal described this phenomenon as an ‘African state crisis’ where the majority of states

lack the capacity to perform their accustomed functions.147 State weakness correlates with the

146 Acemoglu, Daron, Robinson, James and Torvik, Ragnar. (2016) “The Political Agenda Effect and State Centralization” MIT Department of Economics Working Paper No. 1604. 147 Joel, Migdal. (1988) Strong Societies and Weak States: State Society Relations and State Capabilities in the Third World. Princeton Univ. Press.

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refusal of certain organized elements within society to cede authority to the state. Some African

leaders (e.g., Museveni in Uganda) have developed effective ways of dealing with such organized

and well-entrenched groups. They have either tried to coopt them or ally with them within the

broader process of re-creating postwar governance structures. In some postwar countries where

these groups have been wiped out in a destructive war (e.g., Rwanda), regime leaders use the

military to dominate society (see next chapter).

Missing from Migdal’s explanation, however, is why organized elements inside the African

“residue” social structure refused to submit to state authority or chose to undermine the power of

the state. Yet in societies like Uganda with highly organized kingdoms and chiefdoms (e.g.,

Buganda, Busoga Toro and Bunyoro) whose existence pre-dates the formation of the Ugandan

state, there is a fear that a powerful central state could potentially undermine the authority of

traditional leaders at the helm of these kingdoms. This explains why monarchists in Uganda have

openly campaigned against policies designed to entrench the state in areas, including land matters,

where kingdoms have traditionally enjoyed influence.

The key question is how these African states can build themselves into effective nation states. Two

strands of literature have been influential in driving a narrative on rebuilding a post-colonial

African state. The first is an internal debate, largely driven by Francophone scholars who blamed

Africa’s underdevelopment on its internal inabilities and greed among its leaders.148 The second

is a debate, largely driven by Anglophone scholars, that blames the crisis distressing the African

state on negative external forces.149 For example, Jean-Francois Bayart, an influential

Francophone scholar, argues that the poor development of the African state is a consequence of

African leaders abandoning state-building in favour of coalition-building.150 After conducting his

research on Cameroon, he concluded that this has posed adverse effects on Africans because it

creates the “politics of the belly” ––a common expression across Africa that refers both to the

necessities of survival but also a complex range of cultural representations. Patrick Chabal and

Jean-Pascal Daloz, also Francophone scholars, equally grapple with questions of state formation

148 Kets De Vries, et.el., (2016) “Destructive and Transformational Leadership in Africa.” Africa Journal of Management. 2. 1-22. 10. 149 Williamson, J. G., (2011), Trade and poverty when the Third World fell behind, Cambridge MA: MIT Press. 150 Bayart, J.-F. (1993) The State in Africa: The Politics of the Belly, London: Longman

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and state-building in Africa from a complex perspective.151 They question a narrative, dominant

with Anglophone scholars, that economic, social and political disorder ravaging the continent are

not a result of African leaders' own making. They instead argue that African statesmen have sought

to flourish by encouraging disorder and state failure. Disorder, they argued, is a political instrument

and that, as a continent, Africa is undergoing a “re-traditionalizing process” that is re-defining

issues of identity, ethnicity, tribal politics, religion, extremism and ritualized violence.

In addition, Pierre Englebert, questions a dominant narrative among African scholars that the

colonial policy of bunching Africans into arbitrary borders is the main driver of many violent

conflicts and the ethnicity problem.152 He wondered why African polities continue to form around

their former colonial boundaries and have not pushed for secession. He thus argues that, although

African states display elements of decay and disorder, they are very resilient. His argument is

similar to Jackson and Rosberg's groundbreaking study of the post-colonial African state. 153 The

two scholars argued that while the post-colonial African state lacks the traditional attributes of

statehood (such as monopoly of legitimate violence or delivery of the social contract), they persist

because of the juridical––that is, they are supported by international law within the wide realm of

the decolonization process. The international norms of state recognition couldn’t allow African

states to disappear, and perhaps constrained wars of conquest among African states.

Limitations of Dominant View of the African State

A dominant thesis that cuts across studies on the post-colonial African state's development portrays

African states as weak, fractured and contested. The challenge is to explain the process that

produces such enduring weaknesses and with what consequences for society. Herbst’s

conceptualization of the African state, comparing the development of African state and the violent

formation of the European state, concludes that it is unable to produce strong states. In fact, Herbst

considers African states to be so ineffective to a point that he suggests they should not be called

‘states’ and should be decertified. He sees non-state actors such as warlords, cities and other

subnational institutions as more effective at governing societies than the present African state.

151 Chabal, P. and J.-P. Daloz., (1999) Africa Works: Disorder as Political Instrument, Indiana university Press 152 Englebert, P. (2000) State Legitimacy and Development in Africa, Boulder: Lynne Rienner. 153 Jackson, R.H. and C.G. Rosberg (1982), ibid.

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However, a major weakness in Herbst’s formulation of the state in Africa is the failure to explain

the resilience of the post-colonial state in spite of its weaknesses. We need to understand what kind

of states these are that are so weak, so fractured, yet so resilient. Indeed, while many scholars have

castigated the African state as failed or failing, they have not explained why the post-colonial

African state has endured for decades in its arbitrary colonial boundaries. The African state is not

prone to external conquest or occupation. Moreover, the decline of interstate wars means that the

challenges of the African state are more internal (e.g., civil wars, poverty, AIDS, socio-economic

development) than external (e.g., wars of conquest, occupation, external aggression). Scholars who

tried to grapple with this puzzle of the resilience of the African state despite its obvious weaknesses

are Robert Jackson and Carl Rosberg (1982). They argued that, while empirical statehood resulted

in juridical statehood in Europe, it has the opposite impact in Africa. The international society

through its intervention has bolstered and ‘frozen’ juridical statehood in Africa but is still ill-

equipped and limited in capacity to enhance empirical statehood in Africa. Robert Jackson and

Carl Rosberg concluded that the endurance of juridical statehood in Africa is linked to the ideology

of Pan-Africanism, which limits inter-state war-making or competition to challenge weak juridical

boundaries, the unwillingness of non-African states to intervene in the affairs of other African

states without being invited, and support from the broader international society for the maintenance

of the juridical boundaries inherited from colonialism.

Other scholars argue that continental states should be left to engage in warfare, break up and re-

establish themselves as viable entities with a redesigned system in which borders of states coincide

with areas they rule.154 This view is based on a false premise that since war gave birth to the

development of effective and stable states in Europe, African states should be given a chance to

fight it out. The problem with this proposition is that there is no guarantee that once states fail or

break up (as a result of war) they would emerge stronger than before. Examples from places like

Somalia, Sudan and the Democratic Republic of Congo should lead us to question this “let them

fight” narrative. Also, some factions involved in African warfare are not really warring in a

traditional sense. African civil wars are characterized by combatants who usually don’t have a

clearly formulated ideology; don’t necessarily seek to overrun states; and fight in the bush or in

154 Prunier, Gerald., (2012) “In Sudan, Give War a Chance” New York Times: Available online: https://www.nytimes.com/2012/05/05/opinion/in-sudan-give-war-a-chance.html (Accessed 10 November 2018)

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rural areas and avoid taking over major cities (the LRA insurgency in northern Uganda, the Al

Shabab in Somalia and the Janjaweed militia in Sundan are examples).

Finally, another dominant view within African studies suggests that Africa should dismantle and

redraw its colonial borders in order to correct the colonial wrongs that left many African countries

with a significant portion of their population belonging to groups split by colonial partition.155

However, the problem is that scholars such as Edward Luttwak156 who front this view have failed

to provide practical solutions on how a continent that is already divided on ethnic, religious,

cultural and political lines can engage in peaceful redrawing of borderlines. To be clear, it is nearly

impossible to change contemporary state boundaries in Africa without recourse to war. Besides, it

is not a given that redrawing African borders would produce strong and effective states. It is a

contention of this research that the emphasis should instead be on rebuilding and strengthening the

capacity of existing African states to meet their obligations to their citizens.

Given the aforementioned weaknesses of these approaches as well as the already explored

limitations of existing understanding of the African state, this research suggests grounding the

postwar Africa’s state development within the literature on Historical Institutionalism (HI). The

informal and formal nature of the “residue” social structure, I argue, makes a historical

institutionalism-based account of postwar state development critical for this study. Below I start

by providing a conceptual consideration of HI. Thereafter, I use HI to present my own

understanding postwar African state development––the understanding that is grounded within the

power and influence of a “residue” state.

Historical Institutionalism: Alternative Theoretical Approach

Scholars who study evolution of institutions have established a deep understanding of the influence

of institutions in our political life. Historical institutionalism emphasizes how and when historical

processes shape political outcomes.157 Scholars of historical institutionalism highlight the

importance of processes that structure political actions, including legacies of founding moments

155 Makau w. Mutua, (1995) “Why Redraw the Map of Africa: A Moral and Legal Inquiry” Michigan Journal of International Law. Vol. 16:4 156 Luttwak, Edward N. (1999) "Give War a Chance." Foreign Affairs 78, no. 4: 36-44 157 Thelen, Katheleen. (1999) “Historical institutionalism in comparative politics.” Annual Review of Political Science, 2, 369−404

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such as power-relations, the role of ideas and the ubiquity of unintended consequences.158 Scholars

such as Pierson and Skocpol see the growing traction of HI as presenting a fundamental shift within

the political science discipline.159 Other scholars have argued that, on its own, historical

institutionalism is neither a paradigm nor a theory. It is instead a theoretical tradition that

emphasizes a set of distinct themes.160These include temporality, unpredictability, inflexibility and

inefficiency. Unlike other traditions, HI places a strong emphasis on temporality ––i.e., the idea

that timing and sequence of certain events have a profound impact on political processes.161 In

other words, HI see temporality as important for understanding political trends. They consider

“later events as conditioned by earlier ones (not simply the constellation of interests and constraints

at the moment) but also in substantive terms because it redefines the disciplinary object from one

directed at the study of stationary outcomes to one focused on explaining diverse and dynamic

processes of institutional development.”162 As Thelen163 and Sanders164 have broadly emphasized,

the focus of HI is explicitly on temporal scope regarding the structure, development and

reproduction of institutions. This focus makes HI distinct from alternative approaches to studying

institutions such as rational choice and sociological institutionalism.

Historical institutionalists (as well as sociological institutionalists) emphasize the importance of

critical junctures in understanding political processes.165 Collier and Collier described critical

junctures as “major watershed in political life that establish certain direction of change and

foreclose others in a way that shapes politics for years to come.”166 Yet, while sociological

institutionalist highlight antecedent structural conditions when explaining continuity after a critical

158 Knight, Jack and Jean Ensminger (1998) “Conflict over Changing Social Norms: Bargaining, Ideology, and Enforcement.” The New Institutionalism in Sociology. Eds. Mary C. Brinton and Victor Nee. Stanford: Stanford University Press. 159 Pierson, Paul, and Theda Skocpol (2001) “Historical Institutionalism in Contemporary Political Science” In: Political Science: State of the Discipline, edited by Ira Katznelson and Helen V. Milner, 693–721+ New York: Norton. 160 Mahoney, James, and Dietrich Rueschemeyer (2003) Comparative Historical Analysis in the Social Sciences. New York: Cambridge University Press 161 Pierson, Paul (2000) “Not Just What, but When: Timing and Sequence in Political Processes.” Studies in American Political Development 14: 72-92 162 Orfeo Fioretos (2011) “Historical Institutionalism in International Relations” International Organization 65, Spring 2011, pp+ 367–9 163 Thelen, Kathleen (1999), “Historical Institutionalism in Comparative Perspective.” Annual Review of Political Science, 2, 369‐404. 164 Sanders, Elizabeth (2006) “Historical Institutionalism” In: The Oxford Handbook of Political Institutions, edited by R.A. W. Rhodes, Sarah A. Binder, and Bert A. Rockman, 39–55 New York: Oxford, University Press. 165 Skocpol, Theda. (2003) “Doubly Engaged Social Science: The Promise of Comparative Historical Analysis.” Comparative Historical Analysis in the Social Sciences. Eds. James Mahoney and Dietrich Rueschemeyer. New York: Cambridge University Press. 166 Collier, R. B., & Collier, D. (1991). Shaping the political arena: Critical junctures, the labor movement, and regime dynamics in Latin America. Princeton, N.J., Princeton, University press. p. 27.

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juncture, historical institutionalism emphasize “the microlevel processes that create incentives for

individuals to reproduce (or not) designs during and after such junctures.”167 Several studies now

employ critical junctures to explain origins of differences among states.168 Others focus on the

self-reinforcing conditions of particular national events over time, drawing cross-national

comparisons.169

Since HI is an institution-centric tradition, it is imperative to understand what institutions are.

Certainly, the debate over what constitutes institutions has been exhaustively explored by various

scholars. Institutions are defined as “humanly devised constraints that shape human

interaction.”170 According to March and Olson the purpose of political institutions is to create and

sustain “islands of imperfect and temporary organization in potentially inchoate political

worlds”.171 Historical institutionalism is therefore seen as a research tradition that seeks to

discover the origins, evolution, and consequence of political institutions at national and

international levels.172 Formal institutions are “rules and procedures that are created,

communicated and enforced through channels which are widely accepted as official.”173 Informal

institutions are “socially shared rules, usually unwritten, that are created, communicated and

enforced outside officially sanctioned channels.”174 The emphasis is on actors because actors

create institutions, and their behaviors, in turn, are influenced by the same institutions they create.

In addition, historical institutionalists also emphasize the role of organizations. They see

organizations as “groups of individuals bound by some common purpose to achieve

objectives.”175Organizations may include political, social and economic bodies. Like actors,

organizations function as change agents.

167 Orfeo Fioretos (2011) ibid, p. 376 168 Luebbert G. (1991) Liberalism, Fascism, or Social Democracy: Social Classes and the Political Origins of Regimes in Interwar Europe. New York: Oxford Univ. Press 169 Weir M. (1992) Politics and Jobs: The Boundaries of Employment Policy in the United States. Princeton, NJ: Princeton Univ. Press. P. 238 170 North, Douglas (1990), Institutions, Institutional Change and Economic Performance, Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. p.3 171 March, J.G. and J.P. Olsen (1989) Rediscovering Institutions. New York: Free Press.p.16. 172 Orfeo Fioretos (2011). ibid. 173 Helmke, Gretchen, and Steven Levitsky (2006), Introduction, in: Gretchen Helmke, and Steven Levitsky (eds.), Informal Institutions and Democracy: Lessons from Latin America, Baltimore: Johns Hopkins University Press, p.5. 174 Helmke, Gretchen, and Steven Levitsky (2006) ibid. p.5 175 North, Douglas (1990). ibid.p.5

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Applying HI to Post-conflict State and Regime Development in Africa

The question, then, is whether HI can be applied to understand post-conflict state and regime

development in Africa? This dissertation argues in affirmative. One argument against using HI in

the study of Africa’s political development is that African regimes and institutions tend to have a

relatively short lifespan which makes it difficult to identify path dependent, yet historical

comparative study of regimes types usually compare a long-period of time exploring causal chains

whose effects covers decades or centuries.176 Indeed, classical work by HI scholars generally cover

at least a century. Barrington Moore covers the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries in Europe, USA,

Japan, China and Russia.177 Lipset and Rokkan178 covers sixteenth and seventeenth centuries

political parties in Europe. Mahoney179explores origins of liberalism in Latin America in early

nineteenth century. Nonetheless, the fact that there has been little attempt to employ HI to

understand Africa’s political development doesn’t mean it cannot be done. Moreover, the fact that

post-colonial Africa has experience a high number of regime turnovers means that the continent

may be experiencing frequent critical junctures that remains unexplored. Therefore, we should be

careful not to assume that the time period required to study HI is fixed. As Pierson180 has

emphasized, this should depend on the kind of inferences we seek to explain.

Hence, this dissertation contends that employing HI perspectives to study African political

development will help us understand a number of political elements:

Path-Dependency: Legacies of colonialism: In both Uganda and Rwanda, colonialism left an

enduring impact on institutions and socioeconomic development. Using path-dependence, I argue

that colonialism affected African institutional environment differently. Colonial policies, for

example, undermined the development of a “residue” structure (social groups) in Rwanda. This

is different from Uganda where British colonial policies encouraged the development of social

groups such as monarchies, churches and political parties. This legacy contributed to both

176 Pierson, Paul (2004), Politics in Time. History, Institutions, and Social Analysis, Princeton/Oxford: Princeton University Press.p.7 177 Moore, Barrington. 1966. Social Origins of Dictatorship and Democracy: Lord and Peasant in the Making of the Modern World. Boston, MA: Beacon Press. P.45. 178 Lipset SM, Rokkan S. (1967) “Cleavage structures, party systems, and voter alignments: an introduction.” In Party Systems and Voter Alignments, ed. SM Lipset, S Rok- kan, pp. 1–64. New York: Free. 179 Mahoney, James (2002), The Legacies of Liberalism: Path Dependence and Political Regimes in Central America, Baltimore: Johns Hopkins UP 180 Pierson Paul (2004) ibid.

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countries taking broadly different post-colonial development paths. Thus, path-dependence

ensures that colonial legacy and their impact on state development and contemporary African

societies are persistent over time.181 The dissertation traces the impact of colonialism and provides

a rich historical perspective on the nature of post-conflict state in Uganda and Rwanda, showing

how colonial legacies sowed seeds that later contributed to a civil war in Uganda and genocide in

Rwanda. Furthermore, I show how the Belgian colonial policies on education and the introduction

of national identification cards contribute to ethnic profiling, leading to genocide in Rwanda while

the divide and rule policy introduce in Uganda by Britain contributed to violence there.

Institutions: Endurance of social groups (“residue” social structure): HI is critical in explaining

the endurance of social groups that constitute a “residue” social structure. These social groups have

come to play an important role in the development of the postwar Ugandan state. The endurance

of social groups can be explained by path dependence, which is a key historical institutionalism

argument. As this research shows, social groups have survived several critical junctures such as

civil wars and colonialism and now play a very important role in Ugandan politics. While the

origin of these social groups predates colonialism, their interest and nature were heavily affected

by colonial legacies. For instance, the economic and political role of kingdoms in Uganda is

different from Rwanda because of different colonial policies i.e., the British and the Belgians. For

example, while Rwanda has successfully banished its monarchy, in Uganda, the growing influence

of kingdoms is linked to the colonial policy of economically and politically rewarding monarchies

that supported colonial administration.

Critical junctures: The genocide in Rwanda and civil wars in Uganda. As already highlighted

critical junctures constitute the most important explanation for historical institutionalism.

Although critical junctures can be relatively short periods, they determine the trajectory of path

dependence. As Capoccia and Keleman182 put it, these are relatively brief periods of time “during

which there is a substantially heightened probability that agents’ choice will affect the outcome of

interest.” Critical junctures are periods of political uncertainty during which any outcome is

possible. Arguing in support of this position, Erdmann et al. argues that, for an event to qualify as

a critical juncture, the “decisions of agents must trigger a path‐dependent process that lasts much

181 Englebert, Pierre (2002), State Legitimacy and Development in Africa, London: Lynne Rienner.p.5. 182 Capoccia, Giovanni, and R. Daniel Kelemen (2007), “The Study of Critical Junctures. Theory, Narrative, and Counterfactuals in Historical Institutionalism”, in: World Politics, 59, 3; p.347

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longer than the time‐frame within which these decisions are being undertaken.”183 HI use various

terms to refer to a situation in which institutions reproduce themselves. These includes “positive

feedback”, “self‐reinforcing mechanisms”184 and “increasing returns.” 185 The endurance of social

groups in Uganda that have survived various civil wars and colonialism explains this phenomenon.

The actions and interests of these groups and the strategic actions of the regime leader

fundamentally shaped the nature of postwar state in Uganda which highlights the importance of

decision-making during a period of uncertainty. However, the collapse of the state in Rwanda and

the total obliteration of state agents or absence of meaningful social groups to counterbalance the

Rwanda Patriotic Army/Front (RPA/F) in the aftermath of genocide provides a compelling

contrast. Thus, genocide in Rwanda and civil war in Uganda sent the two countries along broadly

different developmental paths.

Conclusion

This chapter has examined the historical and theoretical approaches to the post-conflict state in

Africa. It has shown that while most extent post-war approaches are significant in certain cases,

they remain inadequate when applied to the understanding of the post-conflict African state. The

chapter has presented a new way for understanding the post-conflict African state which is

fundamentally rooted in exploring the effect of a “residue” social structure in the reconstruction of

a postwar African state. Specifically, two outcomes have been presented. A civil-authoritarian

regime (e.g., Uganda) tends to emerge in areas with a “residue” social structure and a military-

authoritarian regime (e.g., Rwanda) emerges in areas without a “residue” social structure. While

both regimes are undemocratic, they present different possibilities for postwar state development.

183Erdmann Gero, Elischer Sebastian and Stroh Alexander (2011) “Can Historical Institutionalism be Applied to Political Regime Development in Africa” GIGA Working Paper 166/2011, p.13. 184 Alexander, Gerard (2001), “Institutions, Path Dependence, and Democratic Consolidation.” in: Journal of Theoretical Politics, 13, 3, 249‐270 185 Mahoney, James (2000), Path dependency in historical sociology, in: Theory and Society, 29, 4, 507‐548.

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Chapter Four

Post-Civil War State Reconstruction and Regime Formation in Uganda

Introduction

Since gaining independence in 1962, Uganda has had a turbulent political history characterized by

violence and illegal seizure of power.186 Although post-colonial leaders made efforts to establish a

multiparty democracy, the country became a de facto single-party dictatorship in 1966 under the

leadership of Milton Obote. Later, Idi Amin overthrew Obote in a military coup of 1971.187 The

excitement and merriment that followed Amin’s coup were short-lived. He had promised a swift

return to democracy but instead went about murdering his critics, including the Archbishop of

Kampala and the Chief Justice.188 Amin presided over an eight-year period of economic collapse,

extrajudicial killings, torture and dispossession of multitudes that left the country pauperized.189

He was overthrown by Ugandan exiles backed by Tanzanian forces, putting an end to one of

Africa’s most brutal dictatorships. A year later, elections were held which led to the triumphant

return of Obote.190 Like Amin, Obote’s second regime terrorized Ugandans into penury, triggering

a vast array of armed resistances. He was ousted in a military coup in 1985 masterminded by Brig.

Basilio Olara Okello.191 What followed was a six-month period of political upheaval, economic

disruption and ethnic tensions.

Whereas post-civil war state stabilization and re-construction has remained an elusive goal for

many African countries that have been ravaged by wars and other forms of violence, the case of

Uganda offers important insights into the complex interplay between the process of post-war state

re-construction and its effects on the nature of the military and the political system that emerges.

This chapter advances three important arguments: First, the success of the National Resistance

Army (NRA), a guerrilla group that captured power in Uganda in 1986, stems from its sound

186 Karugire Samwiri (2003) Roots of Instability in Uganda. Fountain Publishers, Kampala, Uganda 187 Acheson-Brown Daniel G (2001) “The Tanzanian Invasion of Uganda: A Just War?” International Third World Studies Journal, v.12, p.1 188 Gwyn David (1977) “Idi Amin: death-light of Africa” Boston: Little Brown. 189 Oliver, Furley (1989) “Britain and Uganda from Amin to Museveni: Blind Eye Diplomacy” in Kumar Rupesinghe (eds) Conflict Resolution in Uganda, Ohio University Press p.94-275 190 Otunu Omara (1987) Politics and the military in Uganda. 1890-1985, London, Macmillan Press. 191 Hansen Holger Bernt (2013) “Uganda in the 1970s: A Decade of Paradoxes and Ambiguities” Journal of Eastern African Studies, v.7 (1), p.83

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ideological orientation and organizational strategy developed and propagated by the elites at the

helm of this guerrilla outfit. Second, although the NRA notched a decisive military victory, it never

sought exclusively to depend on coercion against its enemies as it encountered challenges of

domesticating violence and establishing a legitimate authority. Third, the NRA inherited a

‘residue’ state that already had different social coalitions with well-entrenched elite interests.

Consequently, it was forced to engage in co-optation, collaboration and alliance formation with

well-entrenched social groups, which ultimately led to the creation of a broad-based system of

government constituted by a wide spectrum of social and political coalitions. The chapter thus

shows how state reconstruction in Uganda resulted in the establishment of a hybrid form of

government whose creation was a function of social structures that predated the NRA. The chapter

starts by providing a historical background of the National Resistance Army (NRA), a guerrilla

outfit that defeated the governments of Milton Obote and later Tito Okello Lutwa and captured

power in Uganda in 1986.

The Origins and Organization of the National Resistance Army (NRA/NRM)

In the early 1980s, the National Resistance Army (NRA), a guerrilla group led by Yoweri

Museveni emerged in the vast bushes of central Uganda.192 Museveni, along with several other

groups, declared war on the Obote government. While the government easily defeated other armed

groups, Museveni’s NRA showed a sturdy resilience, both in terms of military organization and

competence, to prevail over government forces.193 The NRA operated in rural areas that were

hostile to the government and provided the rebels with space to mobilize and recruit peasants for

warfare. A unique aspect of the NRA is that it made a deliberate attempt to co-opt and assimilate

other armed groups fighting the government. Some of the groups that were co-opted include the

Uganda National Army (FUNA), which was composed of former Amin solders, as well as the

Uganda Freedom Movement (UFM) and the Federal Democratic Movement of Uganda

(FEDEMU) that were both dominated by ethnic Baganda.194

The ideas that inspired Museveni to start a guerrilla outfit stemmed from the political crises that

engulfed Uganda in the 1960s and 1970s. These crises informed the ideological development of

192 Makara Sabiiti, Lakner Lise, et al (2009) “Turnaround: The National Resistance Movement and the Reintroduction of a Multiparty System in Uganda” International Political Science Review, Vol. 30, No. 2, 185–204 193 Weinstein. M. Jeremy. (2007). Inside Rebellion: The Politics of Insurgent Violence. Cambridge, UK: Cambridge University Press. 194 Interview with Shaban Bantariza, Uganda government deputy spokesperson. 18 June 2016.

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the NRA. These beliefs (as explained in the next section) became instrumental in the internal

organizational structure and social-psychological functions of NRA leaders. As the chief architect

of the NRA ideology, Museveni argued that Uganda’s political stability is conceivable only if the

country undergoes a socio-political transformation based on the strategy of a protracted people's

war.195 He thus sought to establish a guerrilla outfit led by a mixture of young Turks with leftist

ideas and other recruits he had exposed to the revolutionary ideas he acquired through exposure to

the Front for Liberation of Mozambique (FRELIMO). Under the leadership of Samora Machel,

FRELIMO had showed that, in the struggle for Africa’s independence, it is possible for the

oppressed peasants to begin from a position of weakness, organize gradually and gain strength to

overcome imperial subjugation.196 Museveni exploited his friendship with Machel to gain

specialized military training in Mozambique. He also sent a group of other NRA founders,

including Fred Rwigema and Salim Saleh, Museveni’s brother, to receive similar training in

Mozambique.197 Museveni has consistently noted that he developed the idea of forming an armed

resistance in 1966 when he was a student at Ntare School, a secondary school for boys in western

Uganda. He has said his motivation was a need to end dictatorship in Uganda after Obote abrogated

Uganda’s 1962 constitution and replaced it with a so-called ‘Pigeon Hole’ constitution, triggering

the 1966 Kabaka Crisis.198 The crisis deepened with the adoption of the 1967 ‘Republican

constitution’ that eventually eliminated kingdoms and set a stage for the country’s socio-political

crisis.199

After completing high school in Uganda, Museveni went to Tanzania for his college education

where he met like-minded young Africans such as Eduardo Mondlane, the founding president of

FRELIMO. Museveni writes in his war memoir that he shared with Mondlane ideas on the

“techniques of fighting an organized government.”200 FRELIMO exposed Museveni to how

guerrilla groups can mobilize in rural areas. He argues that after visiting FRELIMO safe zones, he

learnt that war can liberate peasants from their colonial mentality and widen their horizons and

195 Museveni Yoweri (2000) What is Africa’s Problem? University of Minnesota Press; First edition 196 Barry Munslow (1985) (ed.), Samora Machel: An African Revolutionary: Selected Speeches and Writings. (London: Zed Pres. 197 Wamala E. Katumba (2000) “The National resistance army (NRA) as a guerrilla force” Small Wars: Insurgencies 11(3) 198 Goodfellow, Tom and Lindemann, Stefan (2013) “The clash of institutions: traditional authority, conflict and the failure of 'hybridity' in Buganda.” Commonwealth & Comparative politics 5(1) P.3-26 199 Oloka-Onyango, J. (1997). “The question of Buganda in contemporary Ugandan politics” Journal of Contemporary African Studies, 15(2),173–189. 200 Museveni Yoweri (1997) Sowing the Mustard seed: The struggle for freedom and democracy in Uganda. Oxford: Macmillan.

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provide a “great balance of mind”201 which unshackles them from parochial identities. This

thinking informed the NRA’s ideological orientation. The NRA was thus established as a rebellion

rooted in the ‘people’s interest’ and positioned itself as fighting with the people for the people’s

liberation.

Having developed his vision and refined his ideas through FRELIMO, Museveni returned to

Uganda. But his stay there was short-lived. He fled to exile in Tanzania following Amin’s coup.

While in Tanzania, Museveni played a key role in the formation of a rebel group, the Front for

National Salvation (FRONASA), whose aim was to fight Amin’s government. He tried to push the

ideas he had learned from FRELIMO into FRONASA’s top ranks, causing friction at the highest

leadership.202 A few months after FRONASA was formed, a split emerged over the direction of

the resistance. There were those who wanted the resistance against Amin to take the form of a

guerrilla struggle while others preferred a swift conventional war.203 There was also a debate over

whether soldiers should be politically indoctrinated or should only receive military training.204 In

addition, disorientation and apprehension engulfed the fledgling FRONASA after its early

attempts to launch an attack on government forces were unsuccessful.205 Consequently, the

FRONASA movement went dormant between 1973 and 1976.

An opportunity came when FRELIMO captured power in Mozambique. Museveni moved quickly

to establish a new relationship with its top leadership. He sent a group of 26 combatants to receive

guerrilla training from FRELIMO camps. Individuals from this group became instrumental in the

revival of FRONASA and later in the formation of the NRA. When Amin’s troops marched into

the Tanzanian region of Kagera, which he claimed was historically part of Uganda, it triggered a

military response from Tanzania.206The Tanzanian forces and FRONASA not only liberated

Kagera region but went onward to Kampala, overthrowing Amin.207 In the new government,

known as the Presidential Commission, Museveni served as vice chair of the commission and

minister for regional cooperation. In 1980, Uganda organized its first multiparty elections.

201 Museveni Yoweri (1997) ibid.p.10–11 202 Interview with Maj. John Kazoora, an NRA historical member (June 23, 2016) 203 Interview with Maj. John Kazoora. Ibid. 204 See Museveni Memoir 1997: 53–4 205 Ngoga, P. G. (1997) “Guerrilla insurgency and conflict resolution in Africa: a case study of Uganda.” Ph.D. Dissertation. Lancaster University. Lancaster, UK 206 Ivan S. George (1980) Ghosts of Kampala Weidenfeld & Nicholson, London. 207 Acheson-Brown G. Daniel (2001) “The Tanzanian Invasion of Uganda: A Just War?” International Third World Studies Journal 121–11

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Museveni formed a political party, the Uganda Patriotic Movement (UPM), which he represented

as a presidential candidate but was defeated.

Museveni has consistently emphasized that the flawed elections of 1980 provided a justification

for him to launch a guerrilla war. While many Ugandans had hoped the elections would signal a

return to democracy following Amin’s brutal dictatorship, the polls were marred by incidents of

blatant rigging and manipulation of the entire voting exercises208. The ruling Uganda Peoples’

Congress (UPC) party and its supporters dominated all government institutions and controlled the

Electoral Commission. The demarcation of constituencies, registration of voters and appointment

of voter supervision officers were all under the control of the UPC, which gave Obote undue

influence on the entire electoral process.209 Worsening matters, Paulo Muwanga, the acting head

of government, issued a decree requiring all voting returns to be submitted to him personally for

approval. Anyone who violated this decree, he warned, would be punished with a $70,000 fine.210

Two days after voting, Muwanga usurped the power of the Electoral Commission and declared

Obote the winner, leading to the second Obote government. In return, Obote appointed Muwanga

his deputy and minister for defense.

Throughout the campaign process, Museveni claimed that he was aware that UPC planned to rig

elections and promised to meet “intimidation with intimidation, violence with violence and to start

a rebellion if the elections are rigged.”211 His initial premise for starting an armed struggle was

based on a broad notion that Uganda cannot democratize unless it gets rid of the political and

military elites who maintained power through the formation, and manipulation, of religious and

ethnic cleavages.212 He argued that because the interests of the elite were deeply entrenched in

Uganda’s political and military apparatus, deracinating them necessitated the construction of a

new system based on non-exclusionary politics. Certainly, he refused to recognize the legitimacy

208 Okuku, Juma (2003) “Ethnicity, State Power and the Democratisation Process in Uganda” The Nordic Africa Institute. Discussion Paper no. 17. Uppsala, Norway. 209 Omara-Otunnu, (1992) “The Struggle for Democracy in Uganda,” The Journal of Modern African Studies, Vol. 30, No. 3 210 ‘Muwanga’s speech’, Kampala Domestic Service, 15 Dec. 1980, FBIS LD 151308; ‘Bote is to be sworn in today’, Uganda Times, 15 Dec. 1980, 1. 211 Weinstein. M. Jeremy. (2007) ibid, p.63 212 Kategaya, Eriya (1990) “Kategaya diagnoses Uganda’s disease” In: Mission to freedom: Uganda resistance news 1981–1985, ed. James Tumusiime, 122–127. Kampala: Directorate of Information and Mass Mobilisation, NRM Secretariat.

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of the new government and instead started a guerrilla group in January 1981 to fight the

government.

The NRA: From Guerrilla to National Army

The NRA’s existence became public a few months following the 1980 elections. On February 6,

1981, a group of 27 armed men carried out a surprise attack on the Kabamba military barracks in

Mubende District in central Uganda.213 This attack sent a signal to the government about

Museveni’s resolve to wage a guerrilla war. Three factors explain why Kabamba was the NRA’s

first target. First, the installation housed sizable stockpiles of firearms, which led the NRA to

believe that a successful attack would provide them with a cache of rifles needed to kick-start a

rebellion. Second, Kabamba was remotely located in the jungles of Mubende. Museveni and his

colleagues thought it would be easy to overrun the base since government reinforcements would

take long to arrive. Third, there were other fragments of armed groups mobilizing against the

government like the Kikosi-Vita (consisting of former Uganda National Liberation Army

combatants), the Uganda Freedom Movement (UFM) led by Dr. Andrew Lutakome Kayiira and

the so-called “Communist Group” led by Prof. Edward Rugumayo and Prof. Dani Wadada

Nabudere. These groups lacked determination and leadership to launch a serious onslaught on

government forces. Museveni believed that if his group, the NRA, was first in attacking and

overrunning a national military installation, it would send a message to the other groups that the

NRA was a much stronger and capable force, which, in turn, could persuade the NRA’s rivals to

unite under Museveni’s command.214 However, contrary to what Museveni had anticipated, the

attack on Kabamba turned out to be a misguided expedition. The barracks housed Tanzanian

soldiers who could deal with an incursion of that scale. The Tanzanians repulsed the attack, forcing

Museveni and his group to flee with only a few guns. Moreover, the failure of the attack sent a

chill down NRA’s spine. Many fighters were demoralized by their failure to overrun the barracks.

They retreated deep into the rural areas of the Luwero Triangle to start a full-blown guerrilla

insurgence. Museveni has said that occasionally he tried to inspire his ragtag fighters to see the

Kabamba expedition as a success because they had attacked a major military installation, captured

a few rifles and fled without any serious casualties. Some NRA members heeded Museveni’s

213 Bratton, Michael and Nicolas van de Walle (1997), Democratic Experiments in Africa, Regime Transitions in Comparative Perspective, Cambridge 214 Interview with a retired military officer (O1) who requested for anonymity in order to discuss the matter freely

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advice and continued by his side, but others disagreed and abandoned him.215 Those who wished

to quit were allowed to leave, though a majority stayed with Museveni and trekked to find shelter

deep into the jungles of Luwero.

The armed groups Museveni had hoped to bring under the fold of the NRA were furious that he

had launched a hasty attack on Kabamba. Their leaders, like Kayiira and Lule, had been waiting

for a weapons consignment from Libya, but the Kabamba attack forced the government to set up

several roadblocks that complicated movements and arms delivery from Libya. As Fred

Guweddeko, a former NRA commanding officer in charge of operations explains:

They did not want any insecurity to jeopardize the delivery of the guns. Any

chaos would cause the UNLA to set up roadblocks. Kayiira had already received

some arms and was waiting for another consignment.216

Despite the setback at Kabamba, Museveni did not waver in his effort to bring these groups under

his control. Some of the groups had already secured the support of Libyan leader Col. Muammar

Gaddafi, who had promised weapons. Yet, at the time, Museveni’s relationship with Gaddafi was

reportedly sour. Amin’s expulsion of Israelis from Uganda had forced Museveni to seek an alliance

with Israel to fight the Gaddafi-backed Amin. Thus, Gaddafi was unwilling to arm Museveni

because of Museveni’s role in Amin’s downfall.217 The failure to secure Gaddafi’s support forced

Museveni into working with groups that already had secured Gaddafi’s support. This explains why

he worked tirelessly to persuade them to join arms with him against Obote, which they accepted.

Therefore, the NRA, which started as a small band of fighters, expanded as it succeeded in its

combat operations against government troops. The NRA’s numbers grew swiftly ostensibly

because it was successful at assimilating and co-opting other armed groups that shared the NRA’s

aspiration and objectives.

Upon securing safe zones of operation, the NRA moved to formalize its relationship with civilians

living in these zones.218 Essentially, the NRA operated in the Luwero Triange, an enclave in

215 Museveni K. Yoweri (1997) Sowing the Mustard seed: The struggle for freedom and democracy in Uganda. Oxford: Macmillan. 216 See Fred Guweddeko’s account of Kabamba attack as published in Daily Monitor, issue of February 7, 2016. Available online: http://www.monitor.co.ug/SpecialReports/NRA-attack-on-Kabamba-causes-tension-between-rebel-groups/-/688342/3065428/-/item/1/-/a8p4n5z/-/index.html 217 Interview with Dr. Sabiti Makara, Political Historian and Senior Lecturer at Makerere University, Kampala, Uganda (May 23, 2015) 218 Kasfir, N. (2005). “{Guerrillas and civilian participation: The National Resistance Army in Uganda 1981–86.”.The Journal of Modern African Studies, 43(2), 271–296.

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central Uganda that now covers eight districts. It established training camps, embarked on massive

recruitment of combatants, raided villages for food and labour and conducted spontaneous attacks

on the armed forces.219 At the end of 1982, it was clear that the government had lost a monopoly

on violence and that the NRA had successfully created a state within a state. To counter the threat,

the government army, known as the Uganda National Liberation Army (UNLA), launched a brutal

counter-insurgency campaign in 1982 aimed at breaking the NRA’s back in Luwero and depriving

the group of support among residents. The NRA was able to survive by retreating further into the

Singo area and other villages north of Luwero. While there, they started recruiting civilians,

particularly underage youth as combatants and informers.220 They also benefited from several UPC

youth wingers who were fleeing the repressive regime of Obote. When Gen. Tito Okello staged a

coup that overthrew Obote, many believed the war would stop following peace talks with

Museveni in Kenya.221 However, fighting continued between the military junta headed by Okello

and NRA despite a formal peace agreement.222 The war moved further to the west and both sides

engaged in indiscriminate violence. With about 8,000 to 10,000 combatants, the NRA was able to

capture Kampala in January 1986, establishing a new government under Museveni.

The NRA was highly hierarchical. At the top was Museveni, the NRA’s founder and its

commander-in-chief. He was in charge of giving guidance and direction to the rebellion and had

the last word when it came to decisions regarding combat operations.223 In performing his duties,

the commander-in-chief was assisted by the High Command (HC), which served both as an organ

and a rank of NRA. Members of the HC were the topmost elites of the NRA. The majority of them

were educated up to university level. Some were elevated to the HC because of their combat

experience while others secured those positions by virtue of their social or economic value to the

struggle. Some individuals became members of the HC because they had internal and external

connections and thus could link the NRA to various networks for moral support, financial

resources, recruitment and food supply. The original members of NRA’s High Command in their

descending superiority were: Yoweri Museveni, Eriya Kategaya, Sam Magara, Elly Tumwine,

219 Amaza, Ondoga (1998) Musevenis Long March: From FRELIMO to the National Resistance Movement. London: Pluto Press 220 Mwakikagile, Godfrey (2012) Obote to Museveni: Political Transformation in Uganda since Independence. New Africa Press. P215-216 221 Phares Mutibwa (1992) Uganda since Independence: A Story of Unfulfilled Hopes. Africa World Press, London 222 Acopy of the peace agreement is available online one UN website: peacemaker.un.org/sites/peacemaker.un.org/files/UG_851217_The%20Uganda%20Peace%20Talks%20Agreement.pdf (accessed March 10, 2016) 223 Interview with Maj. Barigye Bahoko, the deputy Chief Political Commissar of Ugandan Military Kampala, Uganda (July 17, 2016).

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Fred Rwigyema, Salim Saleh, David Tinyefuza, Matayo Kyaligonza and Tadeo Kanyankole.224

Since the NRA did not have formal ranks, a selection to the HC was seen as recognition of an

individual’s value to the struggle while a demotion from the HC was considered a punishment. For

instance, Gen. David Tinyefuza was demoted from the HC over what was perceived to be acts of

indiscipline in 1984.225 Below the HC was an informal organ called Senior Officers, composed of

more than 20 members. They included Joram Mugume, Chefe Ali, Ivan Koreta, Pecos Kuteesa,

Stephen Kashaka, Fred Mwesigye, Mzee Barihona, Jim Muhwezi, Julius Kihanda, Frank Guma,

Peter Kerim, Stanley Muhangi, Ahmed Kashillingi, Kibirango Gyagenda, Fred Bamwesigye,

Nasur Amin Izaruku, Ronald Batta, Sserwanga-Lwanga, Kizza Besigye and Mugisha Muntu.

These individuals formed the core of military elites within the NRA. By 1985, the NRA had

attracted many civilians into its ranks, including businessmen, lawyers, scholars, doctors, cultural

leaders and landed elites opposed to the government’s land reforms. To date, these elites known

as ‘NRA historicals’ occupy top positions in Uganda’s social-political and economic structures.

Besides the HC, the NRA also had a political wing called the National Resistance Movement

(NRM), composed of mainly politicians, businessmen, scholars and other prominent individuals

who had fled the Obote regime to join the guerrillas. Apart from chairing the HC, Museveni was

also the head of the political wing and he crisscrossed East Africa, holding consultative meetings

with members of the political organ. Hence, even though NRA leaders considered their movement

to be a protracted peasants’ struggle, fought and led by illiterate peasants, the ultimate controllers

of the organization’s apparatus were the elites within the NRA.

The Ideological Orientation and Strategic Organization

Although Africa was considered an impoverished continent, the bipolar world order of the 1980s

turned the continent into a geopolitical and geo-strategic battleground between the communist bloc

led by the USSR and the capitalist bloc led by the USA.226 As a consequence, a significant number

of civil wars that took place in Africa were fought along ideological lines. The rivalry between

superpowers provided an opportunity for shrewd African dictators to acquire modern armaments

and financial support from the USA and USSR, fueling deadly wars in countries like Zaire,

224 New Vision (October 8, 2004) “High Command was Informal, Says Besigye” Available online: http://www.newvision.co.ug/new_vision/news/1095696/command-informal-besigye (Accessed November, 2016) 225 The Observer (5 February 2015) “UPDF through the years; is it professional now?” Available online http://www.observer.ug/news-headlines/23573-updf-through-the-years-is-it-professional-now (accessed November 2016) 226 Jeremi Sun. (2006) "The Cold War, Decolonization, and Global Social Awakenings: Historical Intersections" Cold War History 6:3. P. 353-363

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Ethiopia, Somalia, Angola and Mozambique, among others.227 However, in contrast to many post-

independence civil wars that ravaged Africa, Uganda and Rwanda were considered less significant

geo-strategically and did not attract the interest of Cold War rivals. The NRA and the RPF are rare

cases of guerrilla groups in post-colonial Africa that successfully captured power without the

involvement of any big power. This, however, does not imply that the NRA and RPF were

ideologically disoriented. In the case of Uganda, Museveni and his group consciously moulded

what is popularly known as the ‘bush war ideology’ whose principles became the bedrock of the

entire struggle. Drawing from my interviews with senior NRA leaders, I contextualize the so-called

NRA ‘bush war ideology’ as based on three interconnected pillars: 1) civilian participation, 2)

discipline and, 3) sacrifice.

Civilian Participation

Ideologically, the NRA considered civilian participation to be a necessity for successful guerrilla

warfare. It took pride in developing local administrative structures to facilitate local

participation.228 Within two years of its formation, the NRA introduced elections for local village

officials in the areas it controlled. These began as clandestine committees consisting of village

heads who formed a trustworthy network that was critical for intelligence gathering, recruitment

and food supply to fighters. As many villages fell under its control, the NRA moved from a

clandestine approach to open civilian participation. The complexity of this structure became

apparent as more village heads were elected through popular participation. The architects of this

strategy were working under the assumption that a participatory approach would garner support

for the guerrillas among civilians. This support would in turn be exploited to foment resistance

against the ruling government.229 Having learnt from how FRELIMO engaged civilians230 in the

armed struggle, the NRA leaders made a strategic move to deepen civilian participation as a

political ideology. Many post-independence African movements, particularly those led by

warlords, showed little interest, if any, in persuading civilians to support them. For instance, in

227 Sergey. A. Mazov. (2010) A Distant Front in the Cold War: The USSR in West Africa and the Congo, 1956- 1964, Stanford, CA: Stanford University Press 228 Interview with colonel Barigye Bahoko, UPDF deputy Political Commissar (July 14, 2016) 229 Interview with Col. Shaban Bantariza, former head of National Leadership Institute (NALI), current government deputy spokesperson, April 25, 2017 230 Pearce, Justin (2015) Political Identity and Conflict in Central Angola, 1975–2002. African Studies, Cambridge University Press, Cambridge.

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Liberia none of the guerrilla factions there created structures to support civilian participation.231

Other movements like the Sudan People’s Liberation Army (SPLA) “relied on force rather than

persuasion to maintain cohesion”232 Similarly, Zimbabwe’s African National Union used force to

mobilize peasants and to compel compliance.233 In contrast, however, the NRA sought to embed

itself in civilian life by creating a network of local elites who served as the link between guerrillas

and civilians and who were elected to their positions through popular participation. As one NRA

officer explained, the exercise was helpful in “demonstrating that the NRA was different from the

government when it comes to democracy.”234

Although it is questionable how free civilians were to make their own choices under the guerrilla-

controlled zones _ that is, whether civilians were free to make choices without coercion and

intimidation _ most of the ‘NRA historicals’ I have interviewed for this research, including those

who are now critical of Museveni, say that civilian participation was genuinely unrestricted and

that neither Museveni nor other NRA leaders tried to manipulate the exercise. As one NRA Major

explains:

We allowed people to participate in this exercise because we needed them to get

the feel of democracy. We wanted them to see how different we were from Obote

who had rigged the 1980 elections.235

While winning the hearts and minds of the local people is a characteristic goal of most guerrilla

movements, they tend to differ in the way they promote participation. In theory, they claim to

promote democracy but at the same time they control mobilization and use force to intimidate

civilians into submission. Even within the NRA, there were situations when it had to resort to

violence as a means of enforcing compliance. For instance, due to insufficient manpower, the NRA

employed force to compel civilians to carry supplies for the rebels.236 The NRA also shelled

civilian areas in a bid to extract hatred against the government, which inevitably would be accused

of failing to protect the civilian population. In some cases, force was used to loot farms and gardens

231 Clapham, Christopher (1998) “Introduction: analysing African insurgencies” in: Clapham, Christopher. African Guerrillas. p. 1-18. Also see, Compagnon, Daniel (1998) “Somali armed movements” in: Clapham, Christopher, African Guerrillas,7 3-90 232 Johnson, H. Douglas (2003). The Root Causes of Sudan's Civil Wars. Oxford: James Currey 233 Kriger, Norman. (1992) Zimbabwe's Guerrilla War: peasant voices. Cambridge University Press. P.152–7, 238 234 Interview with Maj. John Kazoora (a former NRA fighter-turned-Museveni critic) ibid. 235 Interview with Maj. John Kazoora, ibid. 236 Interview with Bernard Sabiti, a Kampala-based governance expert (May 13, 2016)

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belonging to civilians. However, there was also attempts by NRA representatives to convince

farmers to voluntarily supply food to the guerrillas. Civilians were promised compensation for

their products in the event the NRA took power. The NRA kept records of farmers whose animals

and crops were forcefully looted to feed its fighters, with the goal of compensating them.237

A key puzzle is to understand the motive of the elites at the helm of the NRA guerrilla group in

cultivating civilian participation. Two lines of thought have formed around this issue. On the one

hand, there are those who point to the failure of NRA leaders to democratize the ruling party

(NRM) and the country, and argue that the strategy of civilian participation was deliberately

designed for siasa (propaganda) purposes––that is, to hoodwink peasants into believing that the

guerrillas were more committed to restoring democracy than the Obote government.238 Those who

hold this view argue that the entire civilian participation exercise was simply meant to mobilize

and legitimize the NRA among unsuspecting peasants. On the other hand, there are those who

believe that the NRA was genuinely committed to the democratic path but got lost when it took

power. A great number of former NRA officers I interviewed told me that Museveni wanted the

civilian participatory exercise to demonstrate the credibility of the NRA as a democratic force but

that once he was in power he realized he could only consolidate his grip by outlawing political

parties and stifling popular participation.239 In many ways, this explains why political parties were

outlawed in the first ten years of Museveni’s rule. Even when he eventually opened up the country

to multiparty politics, he realized the threat it posed to his hold on power and moved to curtail the

entire electoral process.240 Transparency and independence of the electoral system suffered at the

hands of Museveni’s excessive political influence. A former NRA officer explains that “Museveni

was more democratic when it served his interest in the bush but when he captured power, he

became a complete dictator. He now organizes sham elections merely to legitimize his rule.”241

Scholars such as Nelson Kafir have shown how NRA leaders had reservations about the credibility

of the civilian participation exercise.242 Indeed, there were fears that members selected through

237 Interview with Journalist Charles Odoobo-Bichachi, the Managing Editor of Daily Monitor, Uganda’s largest Independent Newspaper (May 20, 2015) 238 Interview with officer (O2) who requested for anonymity in order to discuss the matter freely. 239 Interview with Maj. John Kazoora ibid. 240 Interview with officer (O2). Ibid. 241 Interview with Maj. John Kazoora. IBID. 242 Kasfir, Nelson. (2005) “Guerrillas and Civilian Participation: The National Resistance Army in Uganda, 1981-86.” The Journal of Modern African Studies, vol. 43, no. 2, 2005, pp. 271–296.

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civilian participation could not be trusted with sensitive intelligence information, which forced

NRA leaders to form a second clandestine structure composed of trusted individuals.243 Thus,

whereas elected committees formed official structures, they functioned alongside a second

structure of clandestine officers. This raises more questions about elite interests and their control

of the guerrilla group. For instance, did Museveni really have trust in the elected committees? If

he did, why create another clandestine structure to work alongside the official structure? It should

be noted that, unlike the elected committees, the clandestine committees consisted of a network of

village elites who would be trusted with sensitive information about war operations. They were

more reliable to NRA leadership than the elected committees.244 Members of the clandestine

committees were selected through interpersonal networks–– that is, someone known to the

guerrillas would recommend his trusted colleagues for recruitment into the clandestine structure.

These were respected elders, wealthy businessmen, politicians, cultural elders and church leaders.

Unlike the official structure which operated only in safe zones, members of the clandestine

committees were recruited in both areas under the guerrillas’ control and in government-controlled

areas. They were key in mobilizing resources like food, money, labor, intelligence information and

protecting rebels from government informers. One of the reasons why this strategy was successful

is that NRA operated mainly in central Uganda, inhabited by ethnic Baganda, many of whom

loathed Obote. This made it possible for the clandestine committees to operate even in disputed

areas, newly captured spaces where the guerrillas expected to find betrayal and acts of disloyalty

from civilians. The fact that clandestine committees were allowed to operate in contested and

government-controlled areas is a clear example that NRA officials considered them more

trustworthy than elected committees. In fact, this secretive method of operation saved the NRA

from the burden of what Kriger (1992:190-211) describes as ‘the struggle in the struggle,’ the

contestation that may arise from civilians seeking to manipulate the structures to settle pre-existing

grievances. The clandestine structure helped the NRA to tightly control the flow of information to

the extent that internal contradictions within its structures were rare. False information by

individuals seeking to settle pre-existing scores was easily detected and resolved. And where

internal disputes among civilians arose, they were judiciously resolved because of the confidence

and protection the NRA provided to civilians who would testify in matters related to local wrangles

243 Interview with Asuman Bisika, regional security analyst (May 17, 2015) 244 Interview with Journalist Asuman Bisiika. Ibid.

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involving members of its structures.245

Internal Discipline and Sacrifice

Politically, top NRA officers questioned the caliber of fighters they recruited. They regarded them

as politically disoriented, undisciplined and unreliable. Thus, a strategy was designed to inculcate

a sense of patriotism and sacrifice among the new recruits by strategically grounding them within

a peasant society, which they were fighting to liberate and of which they were considered a part.

Unlike many post-colonial African rebellions, the NRA did not believe that political orientation of

its fighters would generate internal management problems. Instead, the NRA considered it more

difficult to manage a politically illiterate rag-tag force. Consequently, political education of its

fighters became the hallmark of a deliberate political ideology. As one officer explains:

We had studied most post-independence guerrilla groups in Africa. We made a

departure because we realized that even fighters need a clear political ideology

in order to succeed. Fighters need to understand why they are fighting and what

they want from the war. That is precisely why, by the time we came to power,

our fighters knew the kind of a state we wanted to build.246

The NRA believed that political orientation would improve fighters’ effectiveness, discipline and

respect for civilians. Hence, political mobilization became part of the recruitment strategy. Several

political education sessions for both NRA fighters and civilians were frequently organized with

the sole aim of raising political consciousness.247 Having a clear understanding of the political

situation, according to NRA officials, was considered paramount for the survival, mobilization and

legitimation of the resistance against Obote’s government. In a later remark reflecting this idea,

Museveni noted that he encouraged political education because “armies divorced from the people’s

interests” habitually loot civilians. He added “Conscious activists are necessary to arouse the

masses.”248 It was this kind of thinking that forced Museveni to argue that even commanders and

political leaders must be sent to the battlefront of the struggle to wittiness “the fighting masses

245 Interview with Col. Felix Kulayigye, Political Commissar of Uganda Peoples Defence (UPDF) Force and Member of Parliament representing the army (July 12, 2016) 246 Interview with Felix Kulaigye.ibid. 247 Interview with Felix Kulayigye.ibid. 248 Museveni, Yoweri T.: 1971. “Fanon’s Theory of Violence: Its Verification in Liberated Mozambique.” In N.M. Shamuyarira, editor. Essays on the Liberation of Southern Africa. Dar Es Salaam: Tanzanian Publishing House

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instead of staying away from the scene of the struggle. This interaction will mean mutual exchange

and mutual teaching”249.

In addition to political orientation, safeguarding support from civilians was considered a necessity

because the NRA lacked the backing of neighboring countries. As one NRA official noted, most

neighboring countries “saw the NRA struggle as a threat because none of them were democratic

at the time, which created a fear that the success of NRA could trigger enormous reverberations in

the region.”250 The lack of support from countries like Kenya, Rwanda, Sudan and Zaire meant

that the NRA had to depend even more on the support of the peasants living in the areas it

controlled. These areas become shelters for retreat when the guerrillas came under intense attack

from government forces. It was important for the fighters to have discipline and to respect civilians.

This again shows the uniqueness of the NRA compared to many post-independence guerrilla

movements like FRELIMO that did not attempt to stop their fighters from committing atrocities

against civilians.251

To be clear, I am not suggesting that the NRA did not engage in violence, because acts of violence

during civil wars are inevitable. However, the NRA did not engage in indiscriminate violence. The

violence that took place in NRA-controlled areas happened on a small scale compared to what was

going on in contested areas where government forces had an upper hand. The question that rises

again is why didn’t the NRA engage in acts of indiscriminate violence like many post-

independence guerrilla groups in Africa? From the above explanation, it is evident that because

the NRA operated in a small territorial enclave, acts of discipline by its soldiers would pose an

existential threat to the entire organization. Public trust and acceptance were essential for survival.

The fact that the NRA operated in a small enclave made it possible for its leaders to monitor

civilians and fighters and thus stem incidents of criminality, betrayal and infiltration.

To formalize the relationship between fighters and civilians, the NRA issued a code of conduct in

1981. Not only did the code lay out the acceptable behavior of NRA fighters, it also sought to

regulate how a fighter should behave toward other fighters.252 Rape, murder, betrayal and refusal

249 Museveni, K. Yoweri (1971) p.20 250 Col. Felix Kulayigye. Ibid. 251 Schubert Frank (2006) “Guerrillas Don’t Die Easily”: Everyday life in war time and the guerrilla myth in the National Resistance Army in Uganda-1981-1986” International Review of Social History 51 (2006), pp. 93–111 252 Interview with John Kazoora. Ibid.

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to obey orders leading to fatalities were punishable by death under this code. Other minor

violations were punishable by kandoya, a form of torture that involved tying culprits with ropes

on a tree log, whipping them and forcing them to walk long distances. The NRA created a court

martial in the bush that prosecuted officers accused of disobedience, insubordination or any other

act that contravened the code of conduct253. Each fighting battalion had a court martial division.

Local people were encouraged to attend and witness court martial trials involving fighters accused

of committing crimes against civilians. For instance, in 1982 Zabroni, an intoxicated NRA soldier

and his colleague were accused of killing villagers at Semuto. This crime, per the NRA’s code of

conduct, was punishable by death. A debate ensued within the NRA, with some officers pleading

for the culprits to be spared the death penalty because they acted under the influence of alcohol.

However, the NRA High Command went ahead and approved their execution, which was carried

out in full view of civilians.254 Museveni has since revealed that, in approving their execution, he

was guided by Mao Tse Tung’s exhortation that “never take a needle or thread from the people

without paying for it.”255 With such public trials and public punishments, civilians came to trust

NRA fighters because they were considered well behaved compared to government soldiers. As a

result, whenever NRA convened local meetings, villagers and elders would attend without fear.

It was during these local meetings that NRA would bring its political cadres to carry out political

indoctrination through a process known locally as Kipindi kya Siasa. The exercise was generally

intended to instill perseverance, selflessness and patriotism in the NRA fighters and, to some

extent, even civilians. Some areas like Kitemamasanga became famous because they hosted

several indoctrination sessions. During these sessions old “pseudo-ideology” based on ethnicity,

nepotism, chauvinism was discouraged in favor of nationalism, patriotism and selflessness. In

Museveni’s understanding, it was impossible to “build an effective and efficient army based on

tribalism, religion and male chauvinism. The Army must be exemplary in their conduct, well

trained to fight, and ideologically conscious.”256 The NRA thus positioned its struggle as neither

pro-capitalism nor pro-Marxism, the two contradicting ideological orientations that divided the

253 Interview with Maj. Ba-Hoku Barigye. Ibid. 254 Interview with Col. Felix Kulayigye.ibid. 255 New Vision “Mogadishu: Museveni responds to Obbo” (7th May 20102)Available online at: http://www.newvision.co.ug/new_vision/news/1301448/mogadishu-museveni-responds-obbo (Accessed October 16, 2016) 256 See, for example, State House Statement issued on September 14th, 2016, Entebbe, Uganda. Available online at http://www.statehouse.go.ug/media/news/2016/09/14/%E2%80%9Creject-pseudo-ideology%E2%80%9D-%E2%80%93-president-museveni-tells-updf-soldiers-mogadishu (Accessed November 20, 2016)

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world at a time. It was a civilian-led struggle for socio-economic transformation. The NRA leaders

believed that they could engineer a struggle for self-determination rooted in the peasants’

consciousness. In the words of one NRA officer, the NRA is “a product of a protracted peoples’

struggle that strives for socio-economic transformation. That's our ideology."257 Although peasants

were given a central role in dominant narratives on the NRA guerrilla war, this was not a peasants’

struggle. While President Museveni often cited a few rallying phrases from Maoist ideals, he

admits that the NRA guerrilla movement was not entirely rooted in the Maoist ideology.

Considering the above discussion, it is clear that the elites within the struggle played an influential

role in formulating the ideology. Paradoxically, NRA leaders insist that, where top elites played a

part, it was all done for the benefit of the peasants, that the ideology was specifically designed to

encourage peasant participation. This claim does not stand up to scrutiny because, essentially, the

NRA struggle was moulded and shaped by disagreement among the elites over economic and

political distribution of power and resources. As one senior NRA officer confirms, it was an

“armed political struggle of elites leading a peasant force.”258 In fact, this explains why it was

considered a necessity for both NRA fighters and the peasants to follow an ideology formulated

by the elites without questioning whose interests it was meant to serve. In the words of the current

political commissar of the Ugandan military, the reason they mixed siasa, or propaganda, with

ideology was to help fighters understand why they should be kept “fighting without pay but

contented.”259

The influence of “Residue” Social Structure in Post-Conflict Uganda

As previously highlighted, the influence of the “residue” social structure is remarkable in Uganda’s

post-conflict state development. Unlike post-genocide Rwandan regime, Uganda’s NRA guerrilla

group inherited a country with well-established social socioeconomic and political

structures/groups. Having captured power through guerrilla warfare, the NRA found itself being

forced to navigate, negotiate and accommodate varying interests of entrenched groups that

constituted what I call a “residue” social structure.

The importance of the ‘residue social structure’ in shaping the trajectory of post-conflict Uganda

should not be underestimated. Institutions such as kingdoms are entities whose existence predates

257 Interview with Col. Shaban Bantariza. ibid. 258 Interview with Col. Shaban Bantariza. ibid. 259 Interview with Col. Felix Kulayigye. ibid.

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colonialism and the formation of the Ugandan state. Postcolonial Ugandan leaders were forced

into a paradoxical catch-22 situation in which they either had to recognize and accommodate the

interest of powerful social groups or to dominate and suppress these groups. Accommodating the

interests of powerful groups such as kingdoms, landed elites and religious groups meant

entrenching these groups in Uganda’s body politic while attempts to suppress their interests often

generate fierce opposition from these groups. Uganda’s post independent leaders such as Idi Amin

and Milton Obote employed a confrontational approach when they decided to outlaw the kingdoms

in order to contain their growing influence. This confrontational power struggle between the

central government and kingdoms is illustrated by the 1966 Kabaka crisis when president Obote

ordered units of Uganda army to invade the Kabaka’s palace, forcing the king to flee into exile260

(see chapter IV).

However, when the NRA captured power in 1986, the Museveni regime initially sought to change

this confrontational approach in its relations with the “residue” social structure. Museveni

employed a strategy of co-optation and forging alliances with traditional rulers. Nevertheless, as

was the case with previous leaders, Museveni has equally found himself in conflicts with

traditional institutions that are determined to defend their interests, privileges and status against

the overreaching authority of the central government. For example, in September 2019, Buganda

experienced an explosion of rioting as thousands of kingdom royalists took to the streets to protest

a symbolic power play orchestrated by the government against the king of Buganda. Although

tensions between Museveni’s government and the Kabaka (King) of Buganda, Ronald Muwenda

Mutebi II, had been ongoing for a while, the immediate trigger was the decision taken by the

government of Uganda to prohibit the King from visiting a sub-region of his kingdom where

government was planning to create an autonomous kingdom. Some Baganda monarchists saw this

as part of Museveni’s strategy to weaken the influence of their kingdom through supporting

secessions and were determined to resist it.

In some cases, kingdoms have been successful at vetoing government policies. For example, in

2005, the ruling party, using its majority in parliament, introduced regional governments as an

alternative to Federalism which had been demanded by kingdoms. A constitutional amendment

260 Oloka‐Onyango, John. (1997) "The Question of Buganda in Contemporary Ugandan Politics." Journal of Contemporary African Studies 15.2: 173-89.

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was successfully passed by parliament and signed by the president into law. However, it was

rejected by the kingdoms and the government decided to drop it. Certainly, Museveni is not the

only postcolonial Ugandan leader to have passed a law that was later rejected by kingdoms. In

1975, Amin passed a land decree that banned Mailo land, but kingdoms opposed it and Mailo land

registry remained.261 In the case of regional tier system, Kingdom officials argued that federalism

would reduce the absolute power of the central government and that it was the preferred system of

government for many Ugandans who had expressed their views in a 2003 Constitutional Review

Commission chaired by Prof Frederick Ssempebwa.262 As one Muganda monarchist noted that:

The Regional Tier law still leaves political power in the centre in a regional

system of government – it does not matter how many ministries become

controlled by the regional governments; what matters is how much political

power the regional governments can exercise. This is because, the central

government, and in the powers vested in the president of Uganda today, the

operations and governance of regional governments can be changed at will or

even suspended. For example, budgetary allocations to regional governments

can be altered regardless of the wishes of regional governments, and a regional

government can be easily blamed of underperforming where it is (deliberately)

starved of finance and of other resources, especially if a particular regional

government is judged to be unfriendly to the central government.263

In 2009, President Museveni addressed parliament and promised to implement the regional tier in

the 2010 financial year.264However, following the President’s address, the Buganda Lukiko (the

parliament of the largest kingdom in Uganda) convened and voted against the regional tier system.

261 Joshua Kato (2007) “Should Mailo Land Tenure be Scrapped” The New Vision (February 25) Available online: https://www.newvision.co.ug/new_vision/news/1170236/mailo-land-tenure-scrapped (Accessed June 12, 2019) 262 The Observer (27 March 2014) “Regional Tier will Destroy Buganda’ Available online: https://www.observer.ug/component/content/article?id=30916:-regional-tier-will-destroy-buganda(Accessed 9 March 2019). 263 A comment from a Buganda kingdom royalist published online by a Pro-Buganda website (ekitibwakyabuganda.com). available online: https://ekitibwakyabuganda.wordpress.com/2009/09/06/why-buganda-refused-the-regional-tier/ (Accessed 10 March 2019) 264 New Vision (7 October 2019) “Regional Tier: Key issues explained” Available online https://www.newvision.co.ug/new_vision/news/1235016/regional-tier-key-issues-explained (Accessed 9 March 2019)

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Ultimately, the proposed law died a stillbirth because government could not implement a law that

had been severely opposed by kingdoms. This was moreover not the last-time proposed policies

of the regime were vetoed by powerful kingdoms. In 2008, cabinet approved a bill seeking to

create a Kampala metropolitan authority and expand boundaries of the city. The Buganda

kingdom, which owns most of the land surrounding Kampala city, opposed the bill, arguing that

the law would lead to the expansion of the city into the kingdom’s land and territories (see more

on this in chapter 4). The government quickly amended the bill and removed a close that sought

to expand the city boundaries.265

Apart from traditional institutions, religious groups are equally influential in Uganda’s post-

conflict political development. The catholic and protestant churches have dominated Uganda

politics since independence. The two churches jointly opposed Amin’s brutal regime, leading to

the assassination of Bishop Jonani Luwumu who had gained admiration for his open criticism of

Amin’s human rights violations.266 The shared history of religious oppression under Amin and the

brutal civil war of 1979-1986 brought the Anglican and Catholic leaders together. The two

religious groups had been rivals and were accused of exacerbating and fomenting political

divisions.267 The enmity between the two dominant regions in Uganda emanated from missionary

rivalries and colonial religious favoritism which, together with political tribalism, undermined

Uganda’s national unity. As a result, the two political parties that dominated Uganda’s post-

independence politics were formed along religious lines–i.e., the Anglican-dominated Uganda

People’s Congress (UPC) and the Catholic-dominated Democratic Party (DP).268 To date, the two

religions continue to dominate Ugandan politics. For example, being from the Anglican church,

President Museveni has made sure that his vice president is a catholic so as to maintain the balance

of “power-sharing” between the two dominant religions. After the 1979-86 civil war, the churches

became active in postwar reconstruction through investing in education, poverty alleviation

projects, and health services. This has elevated the Ugandan churches to one of the most respected

institutions with considerable political influence. Church leaders are not afraid to antagonize

government on questions of justice, corruption, political representation, human rights. On the one

hand, church leaders collaborate with the state and employ private lobbying (as it was a case under

265 Lambright s. Gina (2014) “Opposition Politics and Service Delivery in Kampala, Uganda” Development Policy Review, 2014, 32 (S1): s39-s60 266 Mujaju, B. Akiiki (1996). Reflections on church and politics in uganda. The Uganda Journal, 43, 61 267 Carney, J. J. (2017). The politics of ecumenism in uganda, 1962–1986. Church History, 86(3), 765-795 268 Carney, J. J. 2017. Ibid.

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the NRM’s first decade in power). On the other, church leaders have also shown a willingness to

withdraw their active collaboration and embrace open criticism if they believe the regime is going

astray. For example, between 1975 and 1979 Uganda’s religious leaders shifted their stances from

public silence and started issuing carefully crafted public critiques of Amin’s rule. Under

Museveni’s rule, church leaders have continued to oppose the regime over its weak approach to

issues of corruption, human rights abuse, violence and justice.269

Landed elites have wielded significant power too. In 2017, the government introduced a

Constitution Amendment Bill No. 2, which sought to give the central government absolute power

to acquire land for development before compensating landowners. The bill was opposed by

powerful landlords in every region of Uganda in alliance with the country’s kingdoms. Almost all

Kingdoms and associations of landed elites started mobilizing the public against the law, with the

Kabaka (king) of Buganda describing the proposed law as “a pain that poses an existential threat

to the future generation.”270 Later, Uganda’s kingdoms organized conferences attended by

monarchists and landed elites to forge a united front against the law. Speaking in opposition to the

proposed law, a Buganda kingdom minister stated:

We believe in the constitution that vests all the powers in the hands of the people and

these people are saying this amendment is bad. A law that is not fair cannot work.

We will come together and fight to see that it [bill] doesn’t go through, and in case it

goes through, we shall challenge it.271

To counter these criticisms, the President organized public rallies of his own throughout the

country to garner support for the bill. However, his rallies were met with resistance from these

same powerful landlords. President Museveni was forced to withdrawal the bill.272 This was a

269 See for example, AllAfrican.com story of how church leaders in Uganda were openly critical of corruption in Museveni’s government. Available online: https://allafrica.com/stories/199906040102.html 270 The Observer (15 August 2017) “Kabaka Expresses Disapproval of Land Amendment Bill” Available online: https://observer.ug/news/headlines/54400-kabaka-expresses-disapproval-of-land-amendment-bill.html (Accessed March 9, 2019) 271 Noah Kiyimba, a Buganda Kingdom Cabinet Minister as quoted in “Battle lines Drown as Land Amendment Causes Uproar” a report a report by the Foundation for Human Rights Initiative. Available online: http://www.fhri.or.ug/index.php/pages/whats-new/item/204-battle-lines-drawn-as-land-amendment-causes-uproar (Accsessed April 10, 2019) 272 Parliament of Uganda (5 September 2018) “Government Withdraws Constitution Amendment Bill” available online: https://www.parliament.go.ug/news/2182/government-withdraws-constitution-amendment-bill-2017 (Accessed 12 March 2019)

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humiliating defeat for the president, yet the decision to withdraw the bill was cheered by members

of the ruling party who argued that such a bill was “political suicide”.273

In addition, Uganda’s 1998 land act provides for four forms of land tenure system–i.e., Customary,

Freehold, Leasehold and Mailo land.274 Out of the four systems, Mailo tenure is the most

complicated system as it creates dual ownership. Landholders under the Mailo system constitute a

politically powerful voting bloc. The law grants all legitimate and bona fide occupants property

rights. However, most land in Uganda is held under customary tenure. This means it is privately

owned by individuals, extended families, clans or institutions. Land tenure insecurity is a concern

and a source of conflicts between groups, communities and even families. Since 1998, the

government has been trying to abolish the traditional forms of land tenure in favor of a modern

and nationalized land ownership.275 This has turned land into a politically sensitive issue for the

regime.

Specifically, the Museveni regime has carefully tried to navigate landlord-tenant relations on

Mailo land. The government has enacted several laws and policies to protect Bibanja holders who

constitute one of the largest voting constituency for the regime. The 1995 Constitution and the

Land Act recognizes Bibanja holders as lawful occupants of the land with a certificate of

occupancy which they can use to acquire a loan from any financial institution. The law also

recognizes the rights of landlords of Mailo land. Mailo land is mostly concentrated in Buganda

and Bunyoro regions. It was a system designed by British colonialists and was meant to solidify

the political control of Kabaka (king) over his subjects. In Bunyoro, landowners are mostly absent

landlords who can evict their tenants. This has been a source of conflict between landlords and

tenants.276 Due to the political nature of land in Uganda, the President has issued several directives

273 The Observer (August 21, 2017) “Museveni Stranded with Land Amendment Bill” Available online: https://observer.ug/news/headlines/54511-museveni-stranded-with-land-amendment-bill (Accessed March 24, 2019) 274 Ugandan Lnad Act 1998 275 Sserwanga, Moses. 2007. Government’s new strategy on land. The Monitor (Kampala), 12 February. http://allafrica.com/stories/200702130003.html (accessed February 5, 2019 276 Green, Elliott D. 2005. Ethnicity and the politics of land tenure reform in central Uganda. Development Studies Institute Working Paper Series, 05–58. London: London School of Economics and Political Science. http://www.lse.ac.uk/collections/DESTIN/pdf/WP58.pdf (accessed February 2009

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stopping landlords from evicting tenants on Mailo land, arguing that they have no legal backing

under any law to do so.277

Despite several attempt at reforming the land tenure as well as the president issuing many

directives on land matters, the regime has found itself constrained by the interests of powerful

landowners and landholders. When the government proposed Constitution Amendment Bill 2017

on land reform, the bill was fiercely fought by landed elites with one Acholi chief describing the

land issue as “a matter of life and death”.278 The government had hoped to rely on its majority in

parliament to pass the bill. However, as the political cost of supporting such a law became

apparent, many lawmakers from the ruling party openly stated that they would vote against the

law. Later, countrywide demonstrations against the proposed law created a dispute that threatened

to cost the regime support in regions that have traditionally been a critical support base for

Museveni’s party. Faced with such mounting opposition, the government decided to shelve the

law. Thus, Museveni’s proposed land reform faced the same fate as Amin’s Land Reform Decree

which had sought to fundamentally transform Uganda’s land tenure system. Amin’s decree sought

to remove the protection to customary landowners which had been provided to them under the

Public Land Act of 1969.279 The reforms proposed by both leaders alarmed landholders in Uganda,

who feared losing their land to the government. In the end Museveni and Amini’s regime decided

not to implement the reform as it was politically costly even for a dictatorial regime like Amin’s.

In addition to the influential role of kingdoms and landed elites, post-independent Ugandan

regimes have been constrained by the rising influence of the mercantile class. Since 1998,

President Museveni has introduced policies, regulations and directives only to see them rejected

by the mercantile class. In some cases, he has been forced to negotiate with groups such as

Kwagalana, a pressure group constituted by the country’s top fifty businessmen, on matters of

277 See President Museveni Directive on land evictions available online: https://ugandaradionetwork.com/story/president-stops-all-land-evictions-in-buganda-bunyoro-regions(Accessed June 6 2019) 278 Anne Perkins (2009) “The Politics of Land Reform” The Guardian (February 25) Available online: https://www.theguardian.com/katine/2009/feb/25/uganda-politics-land-reform 279 Public Land Act of 1969. Available online https://books.google.co.ug/books/about/The_Public_Lands_Act_1969.html?id=89EsHQAACAAJ&redir_esc=y (Accessed June 4, 2019).

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taxation, property rights and non-tariff barriers to trade.280 The Kampala City Traders Association

(KACITA) is another influential business group that has successfully lobbied for or mobilized

against policies they consider detrimental to their interests. For example, in 2013, the government

introduced a pre-export Verification Conformity (PVoC) which, it argued, would prevent the

counterfeit goods on the local market.281 KACITA and Kwagalana group mobilized the mercantile

class in Uganda against the PVoC. A three-day strike was organized which saw businessmen in

Kampala close their shops until government relented and dropped the policy. Likewise, in 2012,

KACITA and Kwagala mobilized businessmen/traders in Uganda to close their businesses until

government takes action against excessive bank interest rates on loans. Traders wanted

government to compel Banks not to increase interest rates on loans taken before the Bank of

Uganda increased the Central Bank Rate (CBR) at which the bank lends to commercial banks.282

The Central Bank had increased CBR by 23% which had forced commercial banks to increase

interest rates on both existing and new loans. A traders’ strike paralyzed business in Kampala and

neigbouring towns, forcing President Museveni to call for a meeting with KACITA and

Kwagalana group in which government agreed to curtail the skyrocketing interest rates.283 This

further demonstrates the power of business elites to influence regime policies.

The Struggle to Consolidate Power: Coercion, Co-optation, Pacification and Constraints of

the “Residue Social Structure”

When the NRA took power in 1986, it inherited a failed state with a society made up of deeply

entrenched social groups that later formed a foundation for the construction of postwar governance

system. The wave of violence that washed across Uganda in the 1970s and the early 1980s

triggered the worst human atrocities in the country’s post-colonial history. Decades of political

crises and financial mismanagement had led to the breakdown of the economy. Amin worsened

280 Gerald Bareebe (2011) “Kwagalana gets political return on economic investment” The Monitor (October 20) Available online: https://mobile.monitor.co.ug/News/2466686-1221966-format-xhtml-t87l7k/index.html (Accessed March 2019) 281 Alias Bwambale (2013) “Assessing traders’ strike in Kampala” The Monitor (June 30) Available online: https://mobile.monitor.co.ug/Oped/Assessing+traders++strike+in+Kampala/-/691272/1898948/-/format/xhtml/-/1hsc8p/-/index.html(Accessed March 2019) 282 Uganda Radio Network (2012) “Kampala Shops Closed as Traders' Strike Starts” (January 11) https://ugandaradionetwork.com/story/kampala-shops-closed-as-traders-strike-starts(Accessed April 2019) 283 The New Vision (2012) “Museveni meets KACITA, warns against strikes” (January 12) Available online: https://www.newvision.co.ug/new_vision/news/1298895/museveni-meets-kacita-warns-strikes( Accessed April 24)

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the economic situation with his decision to expel 40,000 Ugandans of Asian descent.284 He

confiscated their homes, shops, factories and transferred ownership of their properties to his

cronies, claiming that it would create a new class of “black millionaires.”285 He said that Asians

could not be allowed to dominate, control or monopolize the business life of the nation” and that

he did not want the “economy of the nation being so much in the hands of non-citizens as is the

case in Uganda.”286 The problem with Amin’s actions is that the expelled Asians were traditional

merchants who had supported the economy.287 His cronies did not have experience running

businesses. By the time the NRA came to power the country was in dire economic straits. The

national treasury was dry, per capita incomes were falling, investments had dried up and consumer

goods were scarce. There was shortage of essential products as stores emptied and food production

grounded to a halt, fuelling the development of magendo, or black market.288

The NRA’s violent capture of power itself provoked a new wave of insurgent groups that were

aggressively challenging the new administration. Many of these groups carried an ethnic and

regional character. They included, among others, the Holy Spirit Movement (HSM), National

Army for the Liberation of Uganda (NALU), West Nile Bank Front (WNBF), Allied Democratic

Forces (ADF), the Lord’s Resistance Army (LRA) and Uganda National Rescue Front (UNLF).

The credibility of the new administration fundamentally hinged on its ability to establish legitimate

authority, restore political order and review the economy, not an easy task in a society fraught with

ethno-political tensions and spatial differences. Although the NRA inherited a “residue” social

structure, it had to undergo a Weberian struggle as it faced armed resistance from other organized

groups. Indeed, studies on state formation have concentrated more on the state’s ability to wield

coercive forces and its ability to mobilize resources.289 As explained in the previous chapter, the

Weberian view the state as a political organization that effectively “upholds the claim to the

monopoly of the legitimate use of physical force in the enforcement of its order.”290 In Uganda,

the struggle between the NRA and other armed groups to determine who had a monopoly on

284 Twaddle, M. (1990) “East African Asians through a Hundred Years” in Clarke, C., Peach, C. and Vertovec, S., eds. South Asians: Overseas Migration and Ethnicity, Cambridge, Cambridge University Press. 285 President Idi Amin’s Statement on the expulsion of Asians from Uganda. August 9 1972 286 President Idi Amin’s Statement. Ibid. 287 Thomas Melady and Margaret Melady, Idi Amin Dada: Hitler in Africa (Kansas: Sheed Andrews and McMeel, 1977), 182 288 Hansen, H. and Twaddle, M. eds. (1988) Uganda Now Between Decay and Development London, James Curry 289 Wolin, Sheldon (1981) “Max Weber: Legitimation, Method, and the Politics of Theory.” Political Theory, 9: 401–424 290Weber, M. 1978. Economy and Society, 2 vols. Berkeley and Los Angeles: University of California Press. P.53-67

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coercive force created recurring political crises, making it a daunting task for the new government

to establish stability.

Not only did the NRA encounter armed opposition but it also had to navigate a multiplicity of

socio and political actors who constituted a “residue” social structure and who had well-entrenched

interests of their own. Among these actors were the Protestant and the Catholic Church, different

monarchies and a complex class of political elites. The NRA also had to deal with several ethnic

cleavages, landed elites, fleeing remnants of armed forces from previous regimes and the

expectations from its own soldiers.291 Given Uganda’s history of socio-economic and political

exclusion that had consistently triggered political insurrections, NRA leaders understood that the

new government would not keep power for long if it created an administrative structure based on

exclusionary politics.292 As a result, Museveni and the other NRA leaders developed a strategy

that combined coercion with co-optation, alliance formation and later decentralization of power as

a means of countering the entranched influence of “residue” social structure and therefore reducing

conflicts.293 The two contradictory approaches manifest themselves in two ways. First, the NRA

resorted to the use of force in its quest to pacify the country, believing that a coercive political

regime would inhibit a reccurrence of armed rebellions. Unlike previous regimes that failed in

their attempt to monopolize violence, the NRA was quick to deal with internal armed groups that

resisted its authority with brute force and decisiveness. By acting firmly to defeat armed groups,

the NRA sought to send a signal to individuals harbouring intentions of armed resistance that they

would not succeed. Second, the NRA understood that, given Uganda’s history of resistance to

oppressive rule, overreliance (or sole reliance) on coercive force would create more, rather than

less, resistance. Even though the NRA used force, its leaders feared that a high dose of oppressive

tactics would anger Ugandans and radicalize previously peaceful people who had expressed trust

in the new government. Consequently, the NRA embarked on a second strategy that involved co-

opting its adversaries, integrating remnants of armies from previous regimes within its ranks,

forging alliances with kingdoms and cobbling together a power-sharing government with its

adversaries.294 Below I explain how the NRA blended the two approaches.

291 Interview with journalist, Charles Bichachi, Managing editor, Daily Monitor (July 4, 2016) 292 Interview with Dr. Livingstone Ssewangyana, Director Uganda Human Rights Initiative (UHRI).ibid. 293 Elliott D. Green (2008) “Decentralisation and conflict in Uganda” Conflict, Security & Development, 8:4, 427-450. 294 Steffan Lindemann, ‘Just another change of guard? Broad-based politics and civil war in Museveni’s Uganda’, African Affairs 110, 440 (2011), pp. 387–416.

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Coercive Pacification and Co-optation of the “Residue” Social Structure

Co-optation is a concept that is widely used in political science to describe both “informal (e.g.

patrimonial rule) and formal (e.g. parties) mechanisms” by which “strategic actors (or groups of

actors) within or outside the political elite [are tied] to the regime elite.”295 Regimes that employ

strategic co-optation seek to strengthen and widen their base and peacefully eliminate possible

opponents. They see co-optation as a non-repressive way of securing power, legitimizing their

authority and guaranteeing regime stability. According to Haldenwang Von Christian, co-optation

is often intended to relieve the regime of stress and to keep adversaries in check.296 Other scholars

have also shown how co-optation is employed by undemocratic regimes to gain legitimacy. For

instance, André Bank finds that a number of Arab regimes use co-optation as a pattern of

legitimation through participatory and inclusion politics.297 Baumgarten Helga regards co-optation

also part of a broader legitimation strategy that also includes other modes such as neo-

patrimonialism and clientelism.298 For instance, particular regime may co-opt a powerful elite, but

the target may not necessarily be that particular individual being co-opted but his/her network of

influence. What sets the NRA apart, is how it was able to intertwine strategic co-optation and

coercion within the broader attempt to consolidate power, as explained below.

A few months after Museveni came to power, a new military outfit calling itself the Holy Spirit

Movement (HSM) emerged to challenge the NRA.299 Whereas different accounts have emerged to

explain the origins of the HSM, generally it is accepted that its formation is rooted in the NRA’s

violent pacification strategy.300 One account holds that, following the NRA’s capture of power,

some of its rogue members started killing ex-service men from the old regime and persecuting

ethnic groups from the north that had supported the old government. In February 1986, NRA units

started arresting civilians and suspected remnants of the UNLA in places like Tororo, Lira, Kitgum

and Mbale. Many prominent Ugandans and ex-servicemen like Maj. Odur, the head of the military

295 Gerschewski, Johannes 2010: “The Three Pillars of Stability. Towards an Explanation of the Durability of Autocratic Regimes in East Asia”. Paper prepared for the 106th Annual Meeting of the American Political Science Association (APSA), 2.-5. September 2010, Washington, D.C. 296 Haldenwang, Christian von. 2017. “The Relevance of Legitimation: A New Framework for Analysis.” Contemporary Politics 23(3): 269–86 297 Bank, André 2004: “Rents, Cooptation, and Economized Discourse: Three Dimensions of Political Rule in Jordan, Morocco and Syria.” Journal of Mediterranean Studies 14 (1/2), 155-180. 298 Haldenwang, Christian von. (2010) Ibid. 299 Allen Tim (1991) “Understanding Alice: Uganda's Holy Spirit Movement in Context” Journal of the International African Institute, Cambridge University Press, Vol. 61, No. 3. 300 Behrend, Heike. (198). “Is Alice Lakwena a Witch?', paper for a conference entitled Uganda: structural adjustment and revolutionary change”, held at Roskilde, Denmark, 20-3 September 1989

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hospital at Mbuya, were arrested on suspicion of involvement in a clandestine operation to restore

the old Obote regime. As a consequence, the northern tribes rose up against the NRA, first through

Uganda People’s Democratic Movement/Army (UPDM/A) led by Bazillio Okello. But, UPDA

was quickly destroyed when it attacked NRA’s 35th battalion commanded by Maj. George William

Matovu. Even after the defeat of UPDA, the NRA atrocities did not cease; instead, they intensified

in areas like Teso during its counterinsurgency efforts against Uganda People’s Army (UPA),

another rebel group formed by Peter Otai, a former minister in Obote’s government.301

Soon the NRA encountered more resistance in the far eastern and northern parts of the country as

its deadly counterinsurgency tactics started to raise eyebrows. In January 1987, Fred Rwigyema,

the overall commander of the counterinsurgency, caused a storm when he ordered the elders in

Acholi to assemble their men at Corner Kilak so that he could address them.302 After the men had

assembled, they were herded off to a nearby bush where they were held without food or water.

According to witnesses and survivors, the next day gunfire erupted from every direction of the

bush where they had been taken. Many were killed by the NRA on suspicion that they were rebels.

Asked by journalists to justify this action, Rwigyema was more arrogant than regretful:

We killed about 350 and these are the bodies we have counted. There are many

more bodies lying in the field. These are the ones we have counted so far. The

number of the dead could be more than 600… We were surprised to see the

rebels coming at us without taking cover. We kept massacring them, but they

kept coming and we killed so many.303

President Museveni later visited the area on January 18, 1987 and he, too, justified the killings. He

noted:

The rebels attacked us at a place called Corner Kilak, 20 miles south of Kitgum.

They came in while singing and shouting; our people [NRA soldiers] massacred

301 Behrend Heike (1999) “Alice Lakwena & the Holy Spirits: War in Northern Uganda 1986-97.” Oxford: James Curry, p. 210 302 Monitor ( October 6, 2013) “The bool Rwigema Never Wrote” Available online : http://mobile.monitor.co.ug/The-book-Rwigyema-never-wrote/-/691260/2019900/-/format/xhtml/-/q1a0vhz/-/index.html (Accessed November 2016) 303 Kalyegira Timothy (2012) “Insurgency in the northern and eastern regions in 1986” Daily Monitor (December 12) Available online: https://mobile.monitor.co.ug/specialreports/uganda-50/Insurgency-in-the-northern-and-eastern-regions-in-1986/2471388-1642098-format-xhtml-c3duo9z/index.html (Accessed October 27, 2016).

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those chaps. They approached us frontally. This gave us a very good chance

because they exposed themselves; so, on Sunday, we surrounded them and

massacred them. We massacred them very badly.304

Museveni`s statement justifying the massacre shocked many observers who had previously praised

the discipline of the NRA guerrilla fighters. In a letter to Museveni, Atwoma Okeny, the head of

the Uganda Peace Society, complained of the NRA’s scorched-earth policy that left people

desperate for survival amid an unprecedented reign of terror never seen before in the area. He

noted:

Reports of incredible atrocities have been, by and large, corroborated by the

government-owned [newspaper] The New Vision of 7th September, 1st and 16th

November 1988… Mr President, the severity and magnitude of the scorched-

earth policy has reached proportions which [have] poisoned the minds of the

people who are facing the onslaught, that it is the beginning of the

implementation of the often publicly uttered statements by high-ranking NRM

officials to exterminate a people.305

Although the NRA faced a public outcry over its brutal counterinsurgency tactics, it never

abandoned the use of force. However, it did change its strategy to mix force with co-optation,

collaboration and assimilation, depending on the character and nature of the opponents it

encountered. Below I examine how the NRA employed the three approaches in dealing with its

opponents.

The Holy Spirit Movement (HSM)

Given the magnitude of the NRA`s brutal counterinsurgency tactics and the arrogance and

pretentiousness that accompanied it, it was anticipated that the people in the north would rise to

oppose the new government. Indeed, the HSM led by Alice Ouma Lakwena emerged with roots in

the same region. The HSM had both a political wing (Holy Spirit Movement) and a military wing

304 Museveni quoted in: Lukwiya O. Robert (2006) “The Acholi Religious Leaders’ Peace Initiative in the Battlefield of Northern Uganda An Example of an integral, enculturated and ecumenical Approach to Pastoral Work in a War Situation” Graduate dissertation, Leopold-Franzens-Universität Innsbruck. Available online: http://www.comboni.de/literatur/ochola_diplomarbeit.pdf 305 Atwoma Okeny`s letter to Museveni quoted in the Monitor of December 12, 2012. Available online: http://www.monitor.co.ug/SpecialReports/ugandaat50/Insurgency-in-the-northern-and-eastern-regions-in-1986/-/1370466/1642098/-/format/xhtml/item/01/-/er8ga6z/-/%2523 (Accessed November 24, 2016)

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(Holy Spirit Mobile Forces).306 Lakwena was the group’s political and military leader. The HSM

thrived on political and ethnic divisions that existed in Uganda at the time. As a guerrilla group,

the NRA was dominated by ethnic Banyankole and had gained support among the Baganda.

However, the tribes in the north, particularly the Acholi and the Langi, overwhelmingly rejected

it. The NRA’s ruthless counterinsurgency operations in the north made it possible for Lakwena to

mobilize northern tribes against the new government.

The HSM’s initial military attacks surprised the new NRA government because they were well

organized and well executed. For instance, in November and December 1986, Lakwena launched

an attack against the NRA at Kilak and Pajule, defeating NRA soldiers and capturing significant

amounts of ammunition. Lakwena’s actions carried significant spiritual meanings for her

followers.307 She claimed to have received a prophecy from God to save her people from the NRA.

The initial actions of the NRA played into Lakwena’s liberation rhetoric. For instance, when the

NRA 35th battalion was sent to Kitgum, its fighters were accused of raping, looting and murdering

civilians.308 Lakwena, who had been a local priest, claimed that she abandoned her work upon

witnessing vicious acts of indiscipline and crimes committed by NRA fighters, especially against

the tribes in the north.309 She seized the moment to denounce the new government. She proclaimed

that she had undergone a spiritual exorcism in which God commanded her to change her approach

from being a spiritual healer to a political liberator of Uganda.310 The change in approach, she

argued, was necessary because “it is useless to cure a man today only that he be killed [by the

NRA] the next.”311 Lakwena’s strategy of combining claims about spiritual and political liberation

attracted wide support among many Acholi youths, who would later join her rebellion. Outsiders

saw the HSM’s practice of mixing African mysticism, Acholi nationalism and Christian

fundamentalism as bizarre, but for insiders it was cocmpelling and many Acholi people believed

that she had spiritual power from God, making it easy for her to command blind support from

Acholi people. Whenever she would lose a battle in which her fighters were killed, Lakwena

306 Allen, Tim. (1991) “Understanding Alice: Uganda's Holy Spirit Movement in Context.” Africa: Journal of the International African Institute, vol. 61, no. 3, pp. 370–399 307 Hansen, Holger Bernt, and Michael Twaddle, eds (1995). Religion and Politics in East Africa: The Period Since Independence. Athens: Ohio University Press 308 Gersony, Robert (1997): “The Anguish of Northern Uganda: Results of a Field-Based Assessment of the Civil Conflicts in Northern Uganda.” Kampala, Report submitted to the US Embassy/USAID mission in Kampala 309 Gingyera-Pinycwa, A. G. G. (1992): Northern Uganda in National Politics, Kampala, Fountain Publishers 310 Behrend, Heike. (1999) Alice Lakwena and the Holy Spirits: War in Northern Uganda, 1985-97. Athens, OH: Ohio University Press. 311 Amon Charles (2014) “Rejecting the Masculinity of War: Was Alice Auma Lakwena of the Holy Spirit Movement the Messiah of the Acholi?” Journal of Human and Social Science Research Vol. 4, No. 1 (2014), 01-07

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would blame the loss on her own dead soldiers. She would reason that the victims had failed to

follow the full requirements of her spiritual medium, making it impossible for her mysterious

powers to protect them. The survivors would be credited for following the requirements.312

In many ways, the HSM rebellion provided one of the earliest tests to the new NRA leadership.

First, Lakwena was successful at mixing political liberation with a spiritual discourse, which

helped her to recruit fighters with resolve and willingness to fight without fear of death. Second,

unlike the NRA, which was largely unpopular in the north, the HSM quickly gained support not

only from the Acholi but also from other northern tribes. Third, like the NRA guerrillas, the HSM

was a relatively disciplined force with strict guidelines to its fighters on how to interact with

civilians.

The NRA was quick to portray the HSM’s spiritual ideology as irrational, foolish and based on

bizarre mystical notions.313 The NRA did not even seek to initiate peace talks with Lakwena,

preferring to pursue a military victory. The failure of the NRA to open channels of negotiations

with the HSM pushed Lakwena into undertaking some disastrous military adventures. In 1987, the

HSM began an offensive in Lira, hoping to capture Lira town and move on to Kampala. They also

massed fighters in the sugar plantations outside Jinja, less than 90 kilometres from Kampala. In

response, the NRA staged a ruthless military campaign that obliterated the HSM in Kakira sugar

plantation.314 This resounding defeat left many HSM fighters dead or captive. Lakwena fled into

exile in Kenya, where she died in a refugee camp in 2007. The HSM became the first serious armed

group that the NRA defeated by force.

The Former Uganda National Army (FUNA), the Uganda National Rescue Front (UNRF I&II)

and the West Nile Bank Front (WNBF)

As the NRA was still engaged in handling Lakwena’s rebellion, three other insurgent groups––the

Former Uganda National Army (FUNA), the first and second Uganda National Rescue Front

(UNRF), and the West Nile Bank Front (WNBF)–emerged in the West Nile region. The three

312 Hackett 2001) “False Prophets and the African State: Emergent Issues of Religious Freedom and Conflicts in Uganda”, The Journal of Alternative Emergent Religions, Vol. 4, No. 2: 185 - 203 313 Interview with Hon. Kaps Fungaroo, Member of Parliament and Shadow Minister for Defence (May 18 2016) 314 Interview with Col. Felix Kulayigye. Ibid.

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groups were composed of mainly Amin-era soldiers and operated closer to the border with Zaire

(now Congo) and Sudan. Like Lakwena’s HSM, these rebel groups were motivated by NRA’s

indiscriminate revenge killings of Amin’s soldiers following his overthrow in 1979. During

Amin’s reign, the national army, known as the Uganda Army (UA), had been dominated by

individuals from his home region of West Nile. When Amin was overthrown, many of his soldiers

fled back to West Nile. Escaping revenge attacks, some of these soldiers went into exile in Zaire

and Sudan. While in exile, they plotted an insurgency and hoped to take power back.

Although this conflict did not spread beyond the boundaries of West Nile, it adversely affected the

security and stability of the region and tested the ability of the new NRA government to stabilize

the volatile region. Initially these insurgent groups enjoyed some level of support among the people

in Amin’s home region, but local support eroded once civilians started being caught in crossfire.

The NRA leadership was aware that these Amin-era soldiers, unlike Lakwena’s HSM, had

sufficient military skills to wage a serious rebellion. Consequently, Museveni tried to defuse the

situation and promised to end revenge attacks against Amin’s former soldiers. Many UNRF

accepted Museveni’s offer and started to return from exile. However, lingering suspicion resulted

in the eventual arrest of many UNRF combatants. In response, other UNRF members fled into

exile again, leading to the formation of UNRF II. In addition, the third group, the WNBF, led by

Juma Oris, capitalized on the ongoing marginalization of the people in the West Nile to boost

recruitment of new members.

It is clear that, whereas the NRA sought purely a military defeat of Lakwena’s HSM, its strategy

against the UNRF and the WNBF was more nuanced. Museveni moved quickly to engage the

three insurgent groups in peace talks. There was consensus among the NRA leadership that, unlike

Lakwena, the UNRF and WNBF posed a more serious military and political threat to the new

government for two reasons: First, they were well trained and skilled fighters. Second, they

enjoyed a much higher level of public support (because they raised legitimate questions of regional

marginalization and revenge killings). Unlike Lakwena`s HSM, the NRA feared that there wasn’t

enough intelligence information about the numbers of UNLF and WNBF combatants. Some

reports had indicated that the entire Amin army had fled into exile and could stage a formidable

rebellion. Many NRA leaders believed that addressing the legitimate concerns raised by these

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Amin-era soldiers would pave the way for ending their rebellion and re-integrating them back into

the national army.

In the past in Uganda, a change in government would result in jettisoning an entire army and

replacing it with a new one. The NRA recognized this as a mistake and moved to correct it

expeditiously. Consequently, a wave of covert and overt negotiations between NRA and UNRF

started in the late 1980s. Peace negotiations between the two parties saw the UNRF renounce its

rebellion and many of its fighters return to be integrated back into the national army. Gen. Moses

Ali, who led the UNRF into signing an agreement with the government, is now serving in

Museveni’s government as First Deputy Prime Minister and Deputy Leader of Government

Business in Parliament. Among others, the agreement provided guarantees that UNRF combatants

were to retain their ranks and join the Uganda military. Those who did not want to serve in the

army were allowed to retire. After the success of these peace talks, the government struck a similar

agreement with UNRF II led by Maj. Gen. Ali Bamuze. In 2002 a final peace deal was signed to

end years of conflict in West Nile. Under the terms of this agreement, Bamuze and his troops were

integrated into the national army with their full ranks. In his later comments on engaging in

negotiations with Amin-era soldiers, Museveni said that “the NRM doesn’t keep grudges and is

not vindictive”315 Another former NRA officer noted that the former soldiers of Amin in West

Nile:

Had genuine grievances and were open to negotiations. The government

listened and we have now integrated them into our national army. In NRA we

believe that negotiation with your enemy and consensus building is part of state

building. We understood that not every conflict can be resolved by force.

Sometimes we have to talk with our armed enemies.316

The NRA’s strategy of pursuing negotiated settlement in West Nile paid off. All the armed groups

that had been operating in West Nile were neutralized without recourse to war. Yet the role played

by elders in ending the conflict in West Nile should also not be overlooked. Both the government

and the UNRF were open to the involvement of local communities in the process. The West Nile

elders under Aringa-Obongi Peace Initiative Committee (AROPIC) trekked the bushes of South

315 Museveni’s statement on Gen. Bamuze’s death October 8, 2015 316 Interview with Shaban Bantariza.Ibid.

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Sudan to encourage the rebels to lay down their tools and negotiate with the NRA government.

Sheik Haruna Amin Maga, who coordinated the elders’ intervention, noted: “We had structures up

to grassroots and the rebels had trust in us. We acted as guarantors of peace that government will

not come for them and that is how they gave up their arms.”317 Speaking about the role played by

elders in convincing him to abandon the rebellion, Bamuze, the head of UNRF II, explained that

he had started the rebellion because his “people had been hurt” but “decided to abandon the

fighting because of pressure from the elders and other stakeholders, and an olive branch extended

to him by the government.”318

The Lord Resistance Army (LRA)

As the NRA was still dealing with the threat in West Nile, a new armed group calling itself the

Lord’s Resistance Army (LRA), emerged in the northern part of the country.319 The LRA, which

proved to be a hard nut to crack, metamorphosed out of what survived of Lakwena’s Holy Spirt

Movement. Its leader, Joseph Kony, was a cousin to Lakwena and one of the first followers of the

HSM. There are many accounts explaining the origins of the LRA. The most prominent account

suggests that after the NRA captured power in Kampala, Kony went to Kilak Hills, where he met

Lakwena.320 He then settled in her camp, serving as a priest. But Kony claimed to have received a

revelation of his own from God requesting him to start a rebellion against the NRA. When

Lakwena came to learn of Kony’s intentions, she refused to work with him. Lakwena is said to

have mocked Kony, claiming that he lacked the spiritual powers to lead a rebellion, and advising

him instead to use his limited powers for traditional healing. Feeling dejected and snubbed, Kony

reportedly left Lakwena’s HSM.

When the NRA defeated Lakwena’s rebels at the final battle of Magamaga in 1987, Kony exploited

the vacuum to launch his own rebel movement by assimilating most of the remnants of the HSM

317 Daily Monitor (Oct. 15. 2014) “Rebel peace brokers cry foul” Available http://mobile.monitor.co.ug/News/News/Rebel-peace-brokers-cry-foul/-/2466686/2486454/-/format/xhtml/-/nnafwaz/-/index.html (Accessed November 2016) 318 IRN 19 Jun 2002 “Uganda: Government in peace deal with UNRF-II rebels” http://reliefweb.int/report/uganda/uganda-government-peace-deal-unrf-ii-rebels 319 Nyeko, Balaam & Lucima, Okello (2002): “Profiles of the parties to the conflict.” in Lucima, Okello (ed.): Protracted Conflict, Elusive Peace: Initiatives to end the Violence in Northern Uganda, London, Conciliation Resources in collaboration with Kacoke Madit 320 Cline, Lawrence C. (2003): “Spirits and the Cross: Religiously Based Violent Movements in Uganda.” Small Wars and Insurgencies Vol. 14 (2)

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and the mysticism of Lakwena into his new army. Like Lakwena, Kony convinced his followers

that he possessed spiritual powers and that God sent him to fight and establish a new government

based on the biblical Ten Commandments. Throughout his operations, Kony created an aura of

fear and mysticism around himself, instituting brutal rules and rituals, killing hundreds of

thousands of people in northern Uganda and abducting thousands of children and women to serve

as fighters and sex slaves.321

There are many reasons why the LRA quickly gained support in the north. First, both the HSM

and the LRA were originally fueled by the NRA’s brutal counterinsurgency and revenge attacks

against tribes in the north seen as loyal to the old Obote regime. This generated anger among

people in the north against the new government. Second, the LRA was able to exploit the widening

economic gap between the north and the south, as well as the political marginalization of the north

to recruit new fighters and position itself as fighting for the socio-political and economic

emancipation of northern tribes.322It would be erroneous to blame the problems facing northern

Uganda purely on the NRA, because many of those issues preceded the NRA. The economic gap

between the northern and the southern parts of Uganda was historically created by the British

colonial administrators when they introduced cash crops and industries in the south but not in the

north.323 Instead, northern tribes, who are traditionally hunters and gatherers, were considered

physically able-bodied for and thus “suited’ to military service. The southern tribes, who are

traditionally cultivators and cattle keepers, were considered and ‘suited’ for white-collar jobs.

Consequently, the country was split into distinct zones of economic production, with the south

producing cotton and coffee while the north was producing men for military service and unskilled

manual labor. Instead of addressing this disparity, post-independence regimes reinforced these

socio-economic divisions, effectively dividing the country into a marginalized north and a thriving

south. When Museveni’s NRA captured power, therefore, Uganda was already a deeply divided

country. The new NRA government exacerbated the rift when many of the new civil service jobs

were awarded to people from the southern and western tribes at the expense of northern tribes.324

321 Branch, Adam (2005): “Neither Peace nor Justice: Political Violence and the Peasantry in Northern Uganda, 1986-1998” African Studies Quarterly, Vol. 8 (2) 322 Interview with Hon. Muwanga Kivumbi, Member of Parliament and Shadow Minister for Internal Affairs (July 15, 2016) 323 Dolan, Chris (2005) “Explaining War and Its Continuation: The Case of Northern Uganda.” Ph.D. thesis submitted to the Development Studies Institute at the London School of Economics and Political Science 324 Doom, Ruddy & Vlassenroot, Koen (1999) “Kony’s Message: a New Koine? The Lord’s Resistance Army in Northern Uganda” African Affairs, vol. 98 (390)

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To make matters worse, the northern tribes, which had held dominant positions in the national

military from the colonial period through the regimes of Obote and Amin also lost their grip on

the military because the NRA was a western-led guerrilla group that had created a new national

army dominated by southern tribes.

These divisions were exploited by the LRA and, unlike the HSM or the UNRF, the LRA

demonstrated remarkable resolve and willingness to engage in spirited battles with the NRA,

winning some and losing others. Things turned sour for the government in 1991 when it launched

a counterinsurgency operation in the north called “Operation North.” The then-defence minister,

David Tinyefuza, was notorious for his brutal tactics, arresting and torturing hundreds of Acholi

youth and elders believed to be LRA collaborators.325The majority of the Acholi rose up in arms

against this terror. The government found itself in a difficult situation. The NRA wanted to defeat

the LRA and yet the tactics it employed were both brutal and alienated it from the local population,

further fueling support for the LRA. As the conflict raged on, Museveni and senior government

officials publicly blamed the LRA’s endurance on local politicians, cultural leaders and elders

whom they accused of covertly supporting the LRA.326 The blame was also extended to the

residents, who were accused of hiding the LRA fighters inside their homes, providing them with

food, and giving false information to government soldiers. Relying on the same guerrilla tactics

the NRA had used in Luwero, the LRA embedded itself within the local communities from where

it inflicted heavy military losses on government soldiers through surprise attacks.

Consequently, the government military planners became restless in their pursuit of the LRA.327

They devised a new counterinsurgency strategy based on four elements: 1) coercive force, 2)

denying the rebels contact with civilians, 3)embarking on peace talks with moderate LRA officers

and, 4) the co-optation of the local elites in the north, especially those seen as supporters of the

LRA. The start of this strategy was in 1996 when the government forcibly displaced an entire rural

Acholi population of over a million into camps.328 The Acholi people were ordered out of their

homes and herded into military protection zones from where the Ugandan military could provide

them protection. The belief among government military planners was that, if people were forced

325 Interview with Hon. Kaps Fungaroo.ibid. 326 Interview with Journalist John Njoroge, Kampala, Uganda (May 27, 2016) 327 Adam Branch (2005) “Neither Peace nor Justice: Political Violence and the Peasantry in Northern Uganda, 1986–1998”, African Studies Quarterly 8/2 (2005) pp.1–31. 328 Adam Branch (2005). Ibid.

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into camps under the watch of the government, LRA insurgents would be denied contact with

civilians and this, in turn, would enable the government to launch a military counterattack since

the rebels could no longer hide behind civilian populations for protection. Later, the Ugandan

military began to bomb villages and homesteads in a bid to flush out the rebels. Although this

counterinsurgency strategy succeeded at driving the rebels out, it generated a new crisis for the

government.329By 1996, the entire Acholi population was suffering from the consequences of

forced displacement.330Press reports showed that the north was ‘losing more lives through

secondary effects of the war than the war itself’, most of those effects proceeding directly from

displacement. To make matters worse, the Ugandan military, whose name changed from the NRA

to Uganda People’s Defence Forces (UPDF), began indiscriminate bombings of the rural areas in

the north, torching homesteads and granaries, engaging in arbitrary arrests, torture and murder

against civilians who refused to adhere to the forced displacement order.331 The situation

deteriorated when these camps for displaced people turned into a health disaster with diseases like

cholera, malaria and AIDS taking a toll on civilians. By 1996, mortality rates in the north reached

a staggering level of 1,000 people per week.332

Joseph Kony, the LRA leader, had hoped that, by forcing people into camps for the displaced, the

government was making a terrible mistake that could drive many northern citizens to turn

rebellious and flee those camps to join him. To Kony’s surprise, however, local people did not

seem willing to join the LRA despite their anger towards the government. Instead, the LRA was

losing many of its fighters in battles with government soldiers. In a surprise turn of events,

government military strategists were attributing their success to support from local people whom

they credited with providing crucial information about the hideouts of LRA fighters. Kony, who

had pegged his struggle on the liberation of the people in the north, was angry that the people had

betrayed him and expressed his desire to seek revenge against the Acholi. He is quoted as saying,

“If you picked up an arrow against us and we ended up cutting off the hand you used, who is to

blame? You report us with your mouth, and we cut off your lips. Who is to blame? It is you. The

329 Interview with Col. Felix Kulayigye. ibid. 330 Interview with Nicholas Opio, Human Rights Activists, Kampala. (July 7, 2016) 331 Interview with Robert Ssempala, Director Uganda Human Rights Net-work for journalists (June 21, 2016) 332 UN Integrated Regional Information Networks (IRIN) (1996) ‘‘Uganda: ICC Issues Arrest Warrants for LRA Leaders.” Available online: https://www.irinnews.org/news/2005/10/07/icc-issues-arrest-warrants-lra-leaders (accessed November 12, 2016)

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Bible says that if your hand, eye or mouth is at fault, it should be cut off.”333 Indeed, Kony practiced

what he preached, so that what followed was a period of shocking brutality and arbitrariness of

LRA violence.

With over one million people herded in IDP camps and the LRA in retreat, the government moved

to the second phase of its counterinsurgency strategy: co-optation of and alliance formation with

local elites in northern Uganda. Many of these elites had continuously criticized the government

for failure to negotiate with Kony. Thus, several meetings were organized between top government

officers, cultural and religious leaders across the northern region. Initially, Museveni and other top

officers within the Uganda military were opposed to the idea of peace talks with the LRA, arguing

that it is difficult to engage a group led by a “madman” who doesn’t stand for anything except

religious fundamentalism.334 Museveni expressed his desire for a military victory against Kony,

noting that “we shall hunt these terrorists and finish them completely.”335 Other military generals

like Kahinda Otafire hoped for a total military victory against the LRA. Negotiations with the

LRA, Otafiire emphasized, would be counterproductive because they would enable “Kony’s

people trapped in northern Uganda to join him.”336 However, despite government’s reluctance to

start peace negotiations with LRA, local elites in the north did not waver in their push for a

negotiated settlement. Local politicians and cultural leaders continuously blamed the government

for failure to negotiate with the LRA. They believed that the war had been prolonged by

Museveni’s militaristic tendencies and his insatiable desire for a comprehensive military

victory.337 Meanwhile, different religious groups in Acholi region formed an umbrella group called

the Acholi Religious Leaders Peace Initiative (ARLPI) to advocate dialogue and non-violent

approaches towards ending the conflict. The ARLPI gave a platform to church leaders, some who

had been personally affected by the conflict, to push the government to open talks with rebels.

They included the Archbishop of Northern Uganda, John Baptist Odama; the Episcopal Vicar of

the Catholic Church, Matthew Ojara; Anglican Bishop of Kitgum Diocese, Macleod Baker Ochola

333 The New York Times (April 18, 2005) “Atrocity Victims in Uganda Choose to Forgive” Available online http://www.nytimes.com/2005/04/18/world/africa/atrocity-victims-in-uganda-choose-to-forgive.html (Accessed November 27, 2016) 334 Egeland, Jan (2004): “A Ugandan Tragedy” Washington Post, November 10, 2004 335 Daily Monitor (22 September 2006) “No More Talks After Juba Says Museveni” Available at http://allafrica.com/stories/200609220237.html (accessed March 20, 2015) 336 See the text of his Sydney Peace Prize Lecture, titled: ‘‘Saving Our Children from the Scourge of War,’’ Daily Monitor (Kampala), January 8–9, 2006; available at www.essex.ac.uk/armedcon/story_id/000290.html (accessed March 20, 2015) 337 This is a generally held opinion by many public figures in the north I interacted with, including Hon. Kaps Fungaroo, Hon. Nobert Mao, Hon. Reagan Okumu and many other.

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II; and priests; Fr. Carlos Ludigrie and Fr. Joseph Genna. By 1998, the ARLPI was already

organizing several public events called Bedo Piny Pi Kuc (sitting down for peace), which brought

together abducted children, traditional leaders and local council leaders to discuss mechanisms of

ending the conflict and ways to push the government to open channels of communication with the

LRA that would eventually lead to peace talks.

Under the influence of Acholi politicians, cultural and religious leaders (who constituted a “residue

social structure”), Museveni decided to open avenues for peace negotiations with the LRA. The

Acholi cultural and religious leaders themselves took the initiative to lead the negotiations,

338which further highlights the important role of the “residue” social structure in the construction

of Uganda’s postwar regime. Consequently, Betty Bigombe, a minister in charge of pacifying the

north who was one of the most influential voices from Acholi at the time, became chief negotiator

in talks between government and the LRA. Bigombe made her first contact with the LRA through

Yusuf Adeke, the head of the Gulu Butchers’ Association and a covert supporter of the LRA.

Adeke linked Bigombe with the LRA commanders.339 Bigombe’s first meeting with the LRA was

supposed to be in the presence of religious chiefs but they pulled out at last minute. However, this

didn’t stop her from pursuing the meeting. In a later discussion about her role, Bigombe noted

that she pushed for talks against all odds because she wanted to “persuade Acholi sons and

daughters to lay down their weapons.”340

Despite her efforts, Bigombe’s negotiations with Kony did not yield peace. Instead of supporting

her efforts, top officials within the government and the national army who were accruing personal

dividends from the war worked hard to sabotage the process.341 Hence, these peace talks ended

when the government declared an ultimatum to the rebels to either surrender or face fire. In her

later reflection on the failed talks, Bigombe alluded to the fact that elites within the military were

intent on sabotaging the entire process. She argued that, although she was able to convince certain

elements in the military that a negotiated peace was more desirable than a military victory, military

338 Interview with Nicholas Opio. ibid. 339 The Observer (September 15, 2011) “How Bigombe Effort to end LRA War Failed” Available online at http://www.observer.ug/component/content/article?id=15057:the-roots-of-war-how-bigombes-efforts-to-end-lra-war-failed (Accessed October 15, 2016) 340 The Observer (September 7, 2011 “The roots of war: Betty Bigombe recalls encounter with Kony” Available: www.observer.ug/news-headlines/14961-the-roots-of-war-betty-bigombe-recalls-encounter-with-kony (Accessed November 2016) 341 Interview with Hon. Kaps Fungeroo. Ibid.

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bosses held mixed views. Some officials like Col. Wasswa offered their full support while others

like Brig. Joram Mugume, the NRA chief of combat operations, and Lt. Col. Fred Toolit, the

director of military intelligence, sabotaged her efforts. According to Bigombe, the military insisted

that its operations against the LRA would continue and even be intensified as the peace talks were

ongoing, which raised many questions about the intentions of the top military elites. It later

emerged that these elites sabotaged the talks because of concerns that the government had “caved

in too much” to LRA demands.342

Despite the failure of Bigombe’s efforts, some Acholi cultural and religious elites tried to initiate

their own contacts with Kony through certain individuals in Kenya who claimed to represent Kony.

A breakthrough came in 1999 when Yusuf Adeke, the close LRA informer referred to above,

delivered Kony’s message to the Anglican Bishop of Northern Uganda Diocese, Nelson Onono-

Onweng. The bishop was led to an unknown location to meet LRA commanders. Eventually,

contact lines were established between LRA fighters and Acholi religious leaders that led to

negotiations for the 1999 Amnesty Law.

Amid violence and uncertainty, a second opportunity for dialogue presented itself when the LRA’s

second-in-command, Vincent Otti, telephoned the Catholic Archbishop of Gulu, John Baptist

Odama, asking religious leaders to mediate talks between the government and the LRA.343 A group

of ARLPI leaders teamed up with traditional leaders and seized this opportunity. They trekked to

the bush to meet with LRA commanders without government authorization, which created tension

between these leaders and the government. They continued to press for another phase of peace

talks that culminated in the Juba peace process. Although the first meetings were held with LRA

commanders in the absence of Kony, those meetings set the tone for another group of Acholi elites,

including 28 political leaders, cultural and religious representatives to meet with Kony from his

hideout at Nabanga along the Sudan-Congo border. Led by Gulu District Chairman Norbert Mao,

the team included politicians from both the opposition and the ruling party.

Initially the Museveni administration was skeptical about the role of the Acholi cultural and

religious elites, majority of whom it believed were sympathetic to the LRA. The government later

realized however that it needed to co-opt or ally with these elites who constituted the “residue”

342 Kaps Fungaroo. Ibid. 343 Amii Omara-Otunnu. (199). “The Dynamics of Conflict in Uganda.” In Oliver Furley, ed., Conflict in Africa. London: Frances Pinter

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social structure to win the war. President Museveni himself took an initiative to meet local

politicians, cultural and religious leaders to convince them to support his military efforts to pacify

the northern region. A meeting between Museveni and Archbishop Odama and Bishop Macleod

Baker Ochola in 2002 paved way for the religious and cultural leaders to play a key role in the

process. The involvement of local elites swayed public opinion in the north against the war, largely

because local leaders were deeply disturbed by the constant threat of violence posed by the LRA.344

The government’s change of strategy away from entirely relying on the use of coercive force to

accommodation and co-optation facilitated a gradual loss of public support for the LRA, which

ultimately delivered a fatal blow to the insurgency. For instance, when the government urged local

people to form a voluntary force with arrows and bows to fight the LRA, local elites who had long

opposed the government’s counterinsurgency strategies did not oppose this initiative. The result

of this was a surprise increase in local participation in government-initiated self-defence

mechanisms.

Equally important, the co-optation strategy did not merely target local elites but also LRA

commanders. The government made efforts to reach out to these commanders to abandon the

insurgency with a promise that they would be integrated into the national army and could keep

their military ranks or gain promotion with better remuneration. This attracted key defections from

the LRA to the government side. Many of the former LRA combatants who defected or were

captured by the military were offered the opportunity of serving in the national army. In most

cases, they were redeployed back to fight the LRA because they were considered to be better

acquainted with LRA tactics. This strategy facilitated a process that saw former LRA commanders

like Caesar Acellam, Obur Nyeko Okuti, and Alex Opoka play a key role in the success of the

government’s counterinsurgency operations.

However, some of the former LRA abductees that were being co-opted by the government were

minors, which drew criticism. Speaking in defense of the government’s move to co-opt former

LRA fighters, including underage ones, Col. Shaban Bantariza noted:

If somebody at 17 years comes from the LRA and takes the choice that he wants

344 Interview with Hon. Kaps Fungaroo. Ibid.

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to be in the army, would you send him away so that he returns to the rebel ranks

or you help him become productive? You let him return to the bush, which he

has known for most of his life? Or the lesser evil of taking him while slightly

underage and give him a chance to change his life?345

Certainly, the co-optation strategy proved to be very successful at convincing the local people in

the north that the government was interested in peace and forgiveness, not revenge. Occasionally,

testimonies to support the success of the co-optation exercise came from former LRA commanders

integrated in the national army. They were shocked at how well they were received and treated.

Many of Kony’s fighters had been brainwashed into believing that once they surrendered to the

government side, they faced death. As one ex-LRA commander puts it, “I surrendered because I

want to be the sacrifice of peace. I said that if the Uganda government will kill me, that is okay as

long as I am killed for peace.”346 They would be stunned by how the national army was willing to

welcome them and treat them with respect and courtesy.

Unlike many post-independence guerrilla groups that achieved military victory and sought to

exterminate or jail their armed opponents as a strategy for state reconstruction and power

consolidation, the NRA was different in the sense that when it captured power it combined both

coercive force and co-optation against its armed opponents (as I have explained above). In most

cases, military commanders of other insurgent groups were induced with financial rewards and

military positions to abandon their rebellions. For instance, by 2005 the national army had

successfully integrated more than 48 former LRA commanders, 56 former Uganda National

Rescue Front (UNRF) members, five former Allied Democratic Forces commanders, 12 former

West Nile Bank Front fighters, 16 former Uganda Freedom Movement (UFM) fighters and one

former Uganda National Army fighter. Many of these former rebels held military ranks ranging

from general to brigadier and were allowed to keep their ranks or even got promotions. In addition

to these senior officers, thousands of lower-ranked former combatants have been integrated into

the military. The NRA “saw this as a process of solving conflict and reconstructing a state in a

345 Relief Web News (February 17, 2005) “Army explains recruitment of former rebel child fighters”. Available: http://reliefweb.int/report/uganda/uganda-army-explains-recruitment-former-rebel-child-fighters (Accessed November 2016) 346 New Vision (September 5, 2005) “Rebels turned UPDF commanders” Available online: www.newvision.co.ug/new_vision/news/1117698/rebels-updf-commanders (Accessed May 3, 2016)

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society that had been ravaged by constant wars caused by political exclusion.”347 As one officer

explains:

We came at a time when there was a high desire among Ugandans for change.

We were willing to show that we are the change they have been waiting for.

That’s why both in the politics and in the military, we were able to show

Ugandans that we are different. Obote and Amin had excluded many large

sections of Ugandans in the government. For us we were even embracing our

enemies. That’s why Ugandans considered NRA/M to be very different and

that’s how we gained acceptability from the people.348

The success of the co-optation strategy seems to have misled the government to believe that it had

achieved perfect socio-economic and political inclusivity. In fact, Uganda demonstrates that the

strategy of co-optation doesn’t necessarily translate into successful inclusive governance. Indeed,

while the government argues that co-optation was purposely intended to create a system of

governance in which all of Uganda’s multiethnic groups could feel included, a deeper analysis of

the distribution of top positions in the military shows that these ranks were still dominated by the

president’s own tribesmen. For instance, until 2012 all the five individuals at the rank of four-star

general originated from Museveni’s home region. These included Museveni himself, his brother

Salim Saleh, Aronda Nyakairima; Elly Tumwine and David Sejusa, previously known as David

Tinyefuza. Under pressure from transparency activists who constantly accused him of promoting

and encouraging tribalism and nepotism within the military, Museveni decided to promote Lt. Gen.

Moses Ali in 2012, the first person from a region other than Museveni’s to receive the rank. Still,

having only one general out of six from outside the president’s region does not suggest meaningful

inclusivity at the top levels of military leadership. Currently, questions are being raised about the

rapid rise within the military of the president’s son, Muhoozi Kainerugaba, who now holds the

rank of major general and commands the country’s special forces.

In other words, integration and co-optation were meant to legitimize the young government but

effectively power remained ethnic-based, personalized and informalized. It seems, therefore, that

347 Interview with Col. Shaban Bantariza. Ibid. 348 Interview with Col Felix Kulayigye. Ibid.

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the purpose of the co-optation exercise was not to create an inclusive government but to build a

power base for a newly established postwar regime. Essentially Museveni was building a military

with extra-constitutional powers of sociopolitical domination. This explains why the character of

the regime in Uganda has remained quasi-military, with all institutions designed to serve the

interests of the regime.349 It is also possible that the NRA expanded ethnic representation in the

military through co-optation and assimilation of its opponents in part because it was necessary for

the stability of the country. Since Uganda’s contentious ethnic politics had led to unconstitutional

removals of governments and contested electoral outcomes, the co-optation strategy was necessary

to establish political stability and fully pacify the country. As one local observer argues, once

stability was attained and the NRA’s regime cemented its grip on power, the emphasis on ethnic

representation and inclusive governance became less of a necessity.350

Notwithstanding whatever veiled intentions it is meant to serve, the success of the NRA’s military

co-optation strategy should not come as a surprise. As explained before, the NRA as a guerrilla

group fighting in the jungles of Luwero operated in an environment rife with other rebel groups.

Even though the NRA was the dominant rebel group, it never sought to fight the smaller groups

but rather tried to assimilate them to form a larger guerrilla group. From dealing with these smaller

groups, the NRA leant that co-optation can be an effective tool for state-military relations and, if

well executed, a good strategy for post-conflict state reconstruction. More clearly, the success of

this strategy is reflected in the identity of the current national army, especially within the higher

ranks. For instance, Gen. Katumba Wamala, the current national army commander, was originally

part of UNLA that had been co-opted into the national army. The current presidential adviser on

security in the Buganda region, Brig. Kasirye Gwanga, and the director of civil-military affairs,

Col. John Paul Ssonko, were integrated into the NRA from the UFM. Other former rebels that have

been successfully co-opted into the national army include Col. Walter Ochora, Brig. Nakibus

Lakara and Brig. Paul Lokech, a former commander of Uganda’s contingent deployed to Somalia

as part of the African Union Mission in Somalia (AMISOM).

349 Interview with Dr. Livingston Ssewanyana, the Director of Foundation for Human Rights Initiative, (May 21, 2016) 350 Interview with Nicholas Opio. Ibid.

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Political Accommodation of the “Residue” Social Structure and Power-Sharing

The social-structural elements (e.g., class, monarchy and religious denomination) of post-colonial

Ugandan society inherently created difficulties for state construction.351 Historically, Uganda’s

political crises were often blamed on deeply entrenched sectarianism in the socio-political and

economic institutions.352 Dating back to colonialism, religion has always had a political dimension

and politics was always intertwined with religion.353 Political dynamics in post-independence

Uganda too were structured along sectarian tendencies, fueled by the Catholic-Protestant-Islamic

divide.354 The Protestant Church formed the nexus of Uganda’s ruling elites at the expense of other

religions.355 However, its privileged position was consistently challenged by the political classes

from other religions, particularly the Catholics. This was manifested in the organization action

from both religious sects: one fighting to keep the status quo and the other fighting to overturn it.

This struggle was revealed in the two central political parties that dominated Uganda’s post-

independence political dispensation. They both thrived on sectarian differences. For instance, the

Democratic Party (DP) was primarily a Catholic party while the Uganda People’s Congress (UPC)

was predominantly a Protestant party. These social-structural determinants played a key role in the

outcome of the 1980 election that sparked the formation of the NRA guerrilla group. The

Protestant Church, which was well entrenched in the ruling class, supported UPC’s Obote against

the DP, which had the support of the Catholic Church.356 This entrenched mixture of politics, class

and religion was implicitly considered Uganda’s biggest governance challenge by the country’s

post-independence leaders. Museveni contested in the same election under a UPM ticket but was

frustrated by the mind-set of the political and religious elites. Following his defeat, he vowed to

dismantle and reconstitute Uganda’s socio-political structure by all means, including violence.357

Nowhere was the social-structural divide more apparent than in the military.358 Initially, the

factions in the army pitted the Bantu-speaking tribes of central and south Uganda against the

northern (Nilotic) tribes that had dominated the army since colonialism. When Amin, a Muslim

351 See, Welbourn, Religion and Politics in Uganda, 1952-62 (Nairobi: East African Publishing House, 1965) 352 Hans van de Veen. 2000. “Uganda: Explosive Mix of Problems Could Re-ignite Civil War.” In an Overview of Conflict Prevention and Management Activities. Cape Town: ACCORD. 353 Mujaju, Akiiki (1976) ‘‘The Political Crisis of Church Institutions in Uganda.’’ African Affairs, no. 298: 67-85 354 Mujaju, Akiiki (1976). ibid. p. 5 355 The correspondence between political parties and religious denominations must be qualified. There are members of different religious denomination in both parties. 356 Gregory Jaynes, “Counting Votes Is Half the Fun as Obote Wins in Uganda,” New York Times, 14 Dec. 1980: 3 357 Cherry Gertzel (1980) “Uganda after Amin: the continuing search for leadership and control” African Affairs, 79: 461-89. Also see, Simon Hardwick (1982) “Administrative aspects of the Uganda elections, December 1980: a comparison with Zimbabwe’, Public Administration and Development” 2, 105-12. 358 Kenneth Ingham (1994) Obote: a Political Biography London and New York: Routledge, 169-75.

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from the West Nile region, came to power in 1971 after overthrowing Obote, an Acholi protestant

from the north, it resulted in ethno-political and religious realignment of the country’s socio-

political structure.359 The fault lines shifted from being southerners versus northerners to West

Nilers versus Acholis and Langi. Amin’s ascendance to power was considered a big blow to the

Protestant Church, which had until then enjoyed the trappings of a quasi- national religion.

Conversely, Amin’s seizure of power was celebrated by many within the Muslim and Catholic

community. For the Muslims that had, prior to the arrival of Christian missionaries in the 19th

century, played a dominant role in the socio-political affairs of the region, Amin’s presidency

offered an opportunity to revive their lost glory and establish Islamic values in Uganda’s power

structure. Thus, Amin did not simply stop at deposing the Protestant Church from its quasi-

established position that had been created by the missionary-colonial government alliance. He

went further to declare Islam a national religion and Uganda an Islamic state. To bolster his image,

he invited Saudi Arabia’s King Faisal and Libya’s Gaddafi to Uganda and projected himself as a

promoter of Islamic causes in the region. Consequently, Uganda was given full membership in the

Organization of Islamic Conference at a 1974 meeting of the group in Lahore, Pakistan.360

The problems of Uganda’s political structuring are both colonial and incomplete state formation.

In attempt to deal with socio-political problems, such as class, on the one hand, and political

agitation, on the other hand, the British colonial administrators granted a special sovereign status

to kingdoms like Buganda in the early stages of state formation.361 That status remained unchanged

even after Uganda got independence. It was, therefore, unclear whether the framers of the post-

colonial Ugandan state had created a monarchy, a republic, a federation or a unitary state. Under

the post-colonial arrangement, the four traditional kingdoms of Uganda were granted semi-federal

status and Buganda a full federal status within a republic.362 This, in itself, was a recipe for

political disaster. For instance, among the special privileges granted to Buganda were self-

governing institutions with all the trappings of a state. This became a source of tension between

not only Buganda and the central government, but also between Buganda and other kingdoms like

Bunyoro. These tensions were cemented by the 1900 agreement signed between Buganda

359 Brett, E. A. (1995). “Neutralizing the Use of Force in Uganda: the Rôle of the Military in Politics” The Journal of Modern African Studies, 33(1), 129–152. 360 James Mittelman (1975) Ideology and Politics in Uganda: From Obote to Amin Ithaca, NY: Cornell University, 125-30. 361 Nelson Kasfir (1983) State, Magendo, and class formation in Uganda, The Journal of Commonwealth & Comparative Politics, 21:3, 84-103 362 Interview with Dr. Sabiiti Makara. Ibid

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Kingdom and the British colonial administration.363 Among the most significant changes

introduced by this agreement was that it altered Uganda’s land tenure system. The agreement

granted the Kabaka (king) of Buganda and his chiefs a free land tenure, which allowed the chiefs

to claim land titles. As a result, almost half of the land in Buganda, the largest kingdom by

population, was given to the kingdom and its chiefs while the rest of the land was transferred to

the British crown, leaving peasants with no claim to land ownership. This historical mistake has

remained at the heart of the dispute between the central government and kingdoms and has troubled

succeeding regimes, including Obote, Amin, Lule and even Museveni. Apart from Buganda, other

Ugandan kingdoms, including the smaller ones, had existed as independent semi-states. They were

unwilling to give up this status to colonialists and later to the central government. No wonder this

unresolved ‘monarchy question’ continued to trouble post-independence regimes, for instance,

when the tension between the central government and Buganda kingdom boiled over, leading to

the 1966 Kabaka Crisis. This crisis was an open conflict between Buganda kingdom and the central

government. The military attacked the Kabaka’s palace and a fierce battle ensued that lasted seven

hours.364Obote forced the Kabaka into exile and then outlawed all the kingdoms in 1967. This was

political suicide on the part of Obote. It created tensions because Obote had effectively quashed

the ambitions of the elite monarchists. In response, the monarchists allied with Museveni (who

promised to restore their kingdom) to overthrow the Obote-led government.365

When the NRA captured power, the immediate debate over post-conflict state reconstruction

gyrated around the nature of the state to be formed and the kind of government the NRA intended

to create. As early as 1988, the NRA found itself under internal pressure from the monarchists

within its ranks to restore kingdoms. A debate erupted within the NRA’s top hierarchy over

whether the country should adopt a republican form of government and maintain a ban on

kingdoms. Other voices were calling for the adoption of a constitutional monarchy that catered for

the interests of different kingdoms. Elites from Buganda, including intellectuals, businessmen and

politicians, started pushing Museveni to restore the monarchy. This group argued that Buganda

had unreservedly supported the NRA guerrilla group because Museveni promised to restore

Buganda kingdom in return for Buganda’s support. The monarchist group, however, was

363 Golooba-Mutebi Fredrick (2011) “Settling the Buganda Question” Indiana University Press, Hutchins Center for African and African American. Transition, No. 106.P.10-25 364 See more information on Buganda Kingdom website available online http://www.buganda.com/crisis66.htm (Accessed 10 February 2019) 365 Interview with Hon. Muwanga Kivumbi. Ibid.

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resolutely opposed by a set of NRA officers with a republican conviction. They dismissed the idea

of restoring kingdoms because accession to leadership cannot be based on one’s “accident of

birth.”366 Despite the misgivings, the debate did not die. Prominent, vocal Baganda leaders who

had been recruited into the NRA like Abdul Nadduli, now a minister without portfolio in

Museveni’s Cabinet, publicly said that indeed Museveni had promised to restore the monarchy.

According to Nadduli, this explains why many Baganda joined Museveni to fight Obote, who had

outlawed kingdoms in the first place. As the debate raged on, Museveni summoned the military

High Command to a retreat in the northern town of Gulu. During the meeting, Museveni convinced

the High Command that it made sense to restore kingdoms in parts of the country where people

were agitating for them.367 However, prominent military generals like Kahinda Otafiire went

public with dissenting views against Museveni’s decision. Those against the restoration of

monarchies argued that a weak and multi-ethnic society like Uganda could not withstand the kind

of centripetal forces that could be unleashed by autonomous centers of power. Underpinning their

hostility to kingdoms was the fact that certain NRA officials were uncomfortable with the

“privileged status” of the kings, which they thought would threaten their own positions.368 In a

later discussion about this debate, Museveni admitted that restoring kingdoms was a contentious

decision but added that he nevertheless pushed for it in order to cater for the interests of Ugandans

who cherish monarchies. It thus becomes evident that the ethno-political and religious lines were

structured along the interests of both the “residue” social structure and the elites within the NRA.

As explained before, the NRA also had to accommodate the interests of both the Catholic and the

Protestant Church in the new government. These accommodations were made solely to satisfy the

interests of various entrenched ethno-political and religious cleavages that had dominated

Uganda’s politics since independence. In other words, in its attempt to reconstruct the state, the

NRA found itself between a rock and a hard place. Even though it had achieved a decisive military

victory, it could never govern on its own with a ‘winner-take-all’ mentality. It inherited a “residue”

social structure that was inherently convoluted as it was designed to favour certain cleavages over

others. More so, in trying to reconstruct a post-civil war regime it had to navigate the interests of

366 Golooba-Mutebi Fredrick (2011). Ibid. 367Quinn, Joanna R. (2014), Tradition?! Traditional Cultural Institutions on Customary Practices in Uganda, in: Africa Spectrum, 49, 3, 29-54. 368 Interview with Bernard Sabiiti, a Kampala-based governance expert (June 23, 2016). The same views were shared by senior military officers including Col Felix Kulayigye. ibid.

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kingdoms, specifically Buganda, which enjoyed a privileged position bestowed on it by the

colonial administration.

The legitimacy of the new NRA, therefore, depended not entirely on its monopoly on violence,

but also on its willingness to reach out to its challengers in the “residue” social structure in a bid

to create an inclusive hybrid governance system. Although the modern literature on state formation

emphasises the need to transform from personalist rule––that is, depersonalized governance––the

overriding interest of the NRA government was neither in depersonalizing public institutions nor

in the rule of law. Rather, the NRA was preoccupied with dismantling the pre-existing institutional

structure and creating a broad-based ruling coalition, which led to the formation of a hybrid regime

that was neither democratic nor completely totalitarian. Unlike Rwanda (see chapter 5), where the

regime sought only to use coercion to deal with opponents, the NRA was pushed both by the pre-

existing structures and the elites within the NRA to engaged in co-optation and assimilation of its

opponents. The result was the creation of a hybrid structure built to accommodate the interests of

different cleavages of elites. The effort to accommodate various elite of the “residue” social

structure inevitably meant that the NRA’s hybrid structure gained a multi-ethnic and multi-

religious outlook. Even within sensitive institutions like the military, the central belief is that the

military “is not an exclusive club” of its original founders but an institution that should “absorb its

enemies to avoid enemies of tomorrow”.369

So, how did the NRA engage in the process of building a broad-based coalition that was aimed at

accommodating the “residue” social structure The starting point in building this coalition was a

realization of the importance and persistence of pre-existing ethno-political cleavages and well-

entrenched interests of political, religious, as well as monarchic and landed elites. Museveni

understood that there was a need to dismantle the existing political system, which had been

inherently rickety and unstable, and replace it with a new system that accommodated the interests

of different clusters of monarchies, ethnicities, political parties and economic elites. Museveni

famously pronounced that his government would introduce a “fundamental change”.370 Uganda,

he argued, would be ruled based on a “Ten-Point program” that he developed in the bush during

369 Interview with Col. Felix Kulayigye Ibid 370 Seee Museveni`s 1986 inauguration speech available at http://observer.ug/component/content/article?id=13388:museveni-1986-2011-from-fundamental-change-to-no-change (Accessed June 19, 2015)

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the guerrilla war. Among those points was a promise to “consolidate national unity and elimination

of all forms of sectarianism”.371 The beginning of this so-called “fundamental change” was a

decision by NRA to outlaw all political parties. In making this decision, Museveni argued that

Uganda’s past political crises were largely due to divisive sectarian politics orchestrated by

political parties that were formed primarily to foster elite interests. To remedy this, Museveni

argued that Uganda would adopt a “no-party” system called the “the movement system” as an

alternative to the multiparty political system.

Outlawing political parties, Museveni argued, would not necessarily mean the death of competitive

politics because the “movement system” supposedly allowed individuals to compete in elections

based on their personal merit but under a supposedly all-inclusive political party. Under this

system, a pyramid with five levels of governance hierarchy was developed. The hierarchy

consisted of the following: 1) Local council I (LC I), which is the smallest unit of governance

operating at village level and made of 50-70 homesteads. It is headed by chairman and nine

executive members. 2) Local Council II (LC II), also called parish level, consisting of several

villages (normally 7-15 villages). The executive committee at parish level is made up of the

chairmen representing different villages. The head of a parish, called a parish chief, is a

government employee in charge of supervising service delivery and implementation of

government programs. His cabinet is drawn from LC 1 chairmen from the villages within that

parish. There are approximately 7,431 parishes in Uganda. 3) Local council III (LC III), also called

sub-county level. A sub-country is made up of a few parishes (usually 6-10) and is run by a sub-

county chief, who is a technocrat assisted by an executive of parish chiefs. A sub-county chief is

accountable to the LC III Council, which operates like a parliament, complete with a speaker and

elected council members.372 There are approximately 1,403 sub-counties in Uganda. 4) The

county, also called LC IV, is made of several sub-counties (5-8). Every county in Uganda is

represented in the national parliament by a member elected through adult suffrage. In high

populated towns, the municipality forms a county and is equally represented in parliament. 5) The

district, also called LC V). A district is composed of different counties (usually 3-5) and is run by

371 See Museveni’s1986 Ten-Point Program available online at: http://www.monitor.co.ug/News/National/Musevenis-10Point-Programme-vs-Mbabazis-eight/688334-2753336-dl2d4hz/index.html (Accessed May 13, 2015) 372 Kisakye, J. (1996): “Political background to decentralization”, in: Villadsen, Søren; Lubanga, Francis (eds.), Democratic decentralisation in Uganda: A new approach to local governance, Kampala, Uganda.

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an elected council and an elected chairman. There are currently 111 districts in Uganda, excluding

Kampala, the capital city.

A significant number of pro-democracy activists interviewed for this research underscore the

danger this hierarchical structure has posed for the development of democracy in Uganda. They

argue that the structure was deliberately designed to enhance loyalty to the person of the president

and the ruling party.373 Tumwine Patrick, the head of advocacy at Uganda Human Rights Network,

points out that the country “cannot transition with this kind structures that is built to enhance a

one-party rule.” The system, he added, “fuses all government and state institutions with the ruling

party.” “The strategy,” he adds, “is to keep one individual, one party in power under the guise of

multiparty democracy.”374 Citing his experience in monitoring the 2016 general elections,

Tumwine explains that these structures are tightly controlled by the military and the ruling party,

making it hard for the opposition to compete. He explains:

One might be misled to think that, at the lower levels of government, individuals

have freedom to make decisions. The army is in control at every level. In the last

elections, each soldier was sent to their home parish where they were born with

strict instructions and resources to manage the electoral exercise at local level.

They were even given money and materials like sugar, tea, soap and cooking oil

to distribute to voters. These are actions designed not to enhance democracy but

to keep the existing authority in power.375

Indeed, after cementing its grip at local government levels through a re-designed LC system, the

NRA shifted the focus to the national level. It seems that because many Ugandans were interested

in stability more than accountability, they did not preoccupy themselves with questions about how

this system would function in practice, specifically how it would integrate different socio-political

cleavages with competing interests, or whether it was even possible to achieve a broad-based

government. This gave the NRA breathing space to successfully promote the “movement system”

of government to Ugandans without any challenge.

373 Interview with Ladislaus Rwakafuzu, a prominent Human Rights lawyer, Kampala, Uganda (June 30, 2016) 374 Interview Tumwine Patrick, the head of advocacy at Uganda Human Rights Network (July 18, 2016) 375 Interview Tumwine Patrick. ibid.

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At the national level, Museveni started by creating a power-sharing government, consisting of the

victors (NRA), individuals from the ousted Obote regime, prominent business elites that had

funded his guerrilla group, and members of old political parties.376 Museveni went to the extent of

extending an olive branch to hard-core Amin supporters to join his coalition. Consequently, the

first ten years of Museveni’s reign were facilitated by an amalgamation of the topmost elites,

including the political class, the monarchists, religious groups, businesspersons and landed elites.

Although these individuals represented a wide array of ethno-political and economic interests, they

were nevertheless hand-picked by Museveni. For instance, former Democratic Party (DP)

President Paul Ssemogerere, served as the first internal affairs minister and later foreign affairs

minister; Ruhakana Rugunda, who served as health minister in Museveni’s first Cabinet, was co-

opted from the Uganda People’s Congress party (UPC); Prof. Edward Kakonge, the first local

government minister who is considered the chief architect of Uganda’s current decentralization

program, was similarly co-opted from the UPC; The first minister for agriculture, Robert Kitariko,

was a former DP secretary-general; Ssebaana Kizito, who was appointed regional affairs minister

in Museveni’s first cabinet, was co-opted from the DP; Mayanja Nkangi, who was the NRA’s first

minister for education, was a staunch monarchist co-opted from Buganda Kingdom, where he had

served as prime minister; Samson Kisekka, who was appointed the first prime minister of Uganda

under the NRA government, was also a staunch Buganda monarchist; Andrew Kayiira, leader of

the former rebel group the Uganda Federal Movement, was appointed energy minister. These and

other individuals, representing different clusters of power, formed the core of the NRA’s first

cabinet. Together with Museveni, they formed the highest policy-making organ of government.

They formulated policies and monitored the implementation of government programs in

consultation with the president, who exercised executive authority as Head of State, Head of

Government and Commander-in-Chief of the Armed Forces.377Below the Cabinet was another

organ of government called the National Resistance Council (NRC). The NRC existed in the bush

during the guerrilla war as the official parliament of the NRA. When Museveni captured power,

the thirty-eight members of the top NRA military elites constituted the membership of the NRC.

They were not elected but selected by virtue of their military service. In the first year of NRA

376 Lindemann, Stefan (2008) “Do inclusive elite bargains matter? A research framework for understanding the causes of civil war in Sub-Saharan Africa”, Crisis States Discussion Papers Series 15, London: Crisis States Research Centre, London School of Economics. 377 More on this can be found in Articles 98 and 99 of the 1995 Ugandan Constitution.

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rule, the NRC continued to be an exclusive club of individuals until a decision was taken to expand

the NRC in April 1987 to include all government ministers and their deputies, which enlarged the

number of NRC members to over seventy. As the NRA continued to co-opt more of its opponents,

the NRC was again expanded to reflect the broad-based government. Thus, the NRC served as

Uganda’s parliament under Museveni’s first government. Members of the NRC were selected by

the president in consultation with the military High Command (HC), the highest decision-making

body in the military. In essence, the military HC378became the originator and endorser of all the

decisions, which placed it at the center of reconstructing a new political system.

The broader question here is: What, precisely, do the actions of the NRA tell us about the nature

of post-civil war state reconstruction and regime type in Uganda? In the above discussion, I

highlight the NRA’s strategies in postwar state reconstruction of Uganda. While, for example, the

RPF in Rwanda thought to curb its rivals through outright oppression and repression, the NRA’s

initial strategy was to create an integrative structure to serve its own interests but also those of its

opponents. Thus, the new structure offered space for NRA’s critics to share with the NRA positions

of power. This, in return, reduced the likelihood that opposing groups would aggressively

challenge the NRA’s grip on power since they equally became `insiders` in the system and had a

subjective interest in the survival of the broad-based system the NRA had created. Indeed, in the

first ten years of NRA rule the broad-based system was very successful at containing dissent

because of the way Museveni orchestrated co-optation, accommodation and alliance building. In

the words of one senior military officer, the NRA’s aim was to “create a state based on the military

but which doesn’t use ‘the winner-take-all’ approach to govern.”379 It is thus not surprising that

majority of the individuals who disagreed with Museveni’s monopoly of power or with the way

he governed the country never defected from the system. And, even though the military structures

like the NRC (parliament) and the Military Council monopolized decision-making processes,

internal democracy and contestation within the “movement system” were tolerated and

encouraged.

378 Interview with Dr. Livingston Ssewanyana. ibid. 379 Interview with Col. Felix Kulayigye.ibid.

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Conclusion

Even though as a guerrilla group the NRA won a decisive military victory, it never sought to

alienate its enemies. To reconstruct the post-civil war state in Uganda, the NRA regime took an

approach that shows that its leaders were cognizant of two important elements of Uganda’s society:

first, the country they had seized had a well-entrenched “residue” social structure constituted by

elite interests, many driven by political, economic and monarchical considerations. Second, the

political structure the NRA inherited was built on divisive politics that posed a threat to the

country’s social stability. It was therefore a deliberate strategy of the NRA to reconstruct a hybrid

regime in this kind of environment by co-opting and forging alliances with pre-existing social

groups for purposes of enhancing social-political stability. Unlike the RPF in Rwanda, which did

not inherit pre-existing/well-entrenched social groups, the NRA in Uganda inherited a residual

state with well-organized social groups that had already formed deep and lasting interests. The

failure to accommodate the interests of these groups had plunged previous regimes into chaos,

leading to their downfall. More often than not, these interests had formed a basis for political

mobilization manifested in the way they opposed or supported different parties. As explained

above, for example, it was the conflict between the king of Buganda and the Obote government

that compelled the Baganda to mobilize against Obote’s regime. Following Obote`s decision to

outlaw the kingdoms, various armed groups like FEDEMU and UFM were formed by Baganda

monarchists to fight for the restoration of the kingdom. These same groups were later co-opted by

the NRA to marshal a formidable fighting force for the liberation of Uganda. What the above

debate has shown is that even before the NRA captured power, there already were established links

between social groups and the political elites in Uganda.

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Chapter Five

The Military and the Survival Strategies of the Museveni Regime in Uganda

Introduction

Regardless of the political turbulences it has encountered, the Museveni regime in Uganda remains

much more entrenched than many of its foes anticipated. The question is: How has this regime

managed to maintain power for over three decades now? The answer lies in the informal and formal

use of the military to preserve power. This chapter focuses on four elements that epitomize the

instrumental use of the military to facilitate the survival of the Museveni regime. The first of these

is the use of the army to halt attempts by opposition groups to mobilize dissent, and to enforce

cohesion within the ruling party. The second is the discrete cultural domain of military operation

and procedure gyrating around family ties and blood relations. The third is the ability of Museveni

to outmaneuver and prevent military officers from acquiring sufficient power or autonomy to

challenge his authority. The fourth is the postwar strategy by Museveni of separating the military

interests from those of the regime, which has a significant impact on the regime’s durability

because of the regime leader’s ability to control and manage military elites. The regime feels secure

because it uses the military to protect itself from its opponents, but also relies on ethnic and family

ties to prevent dissent within the ranks of the military.

In 2001, Museveni traversed the country during presidential election campaigning on the promise

that as a president he would professionalize the army.380Fundamentally, Museveni’s promise

echoed the need to curb the military’s political influence the failure of which had resulted in the

ouster of previous regimes by the army through coup d'états. Many Ugandans and the international

donor community expressed hope that a professional military institution would help the country

avoid the tumult of past years that were marked by coups and bloodshed. Museveni’s vision of the

army, the donors contended, was impressive and, thus, it was said that Uganda was an example of

successful post-conflict state reconstruction.381 What many did not envisage however was that

Museveni’s professionalization of the army meant placing the regime interests above the army’s

interests and using the army for regime survival purposes.

380 NRM 2001 Election Manifesto. Available online: https://www.nrm.ug/sites/default/files/manifestoes/NRM%20Manifesto%202016.pdf (Accessed May 23, 2017) 381 The World Bank (2000) “Experience with Post-Conflict Reconstruction: Uganda Case Study” Volume VI: Washington, D.C. Also see; World Bank (1998) “Uganda: Post-Conflict Reconstruction, Country Case Study Series” Washington, D.C.: World Bank, 1998

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As a result, after more than three decades in power, Museveni has resisted both internal and

external pressure to depoliticize and de-ethnicize the military. Hence, the Uganda military is

increasingly becoming controversial in country’s body politic because of the way it is used to

safeguard the survival of Museveni’s regime. Museveni’s actions make it clear that he will

undertake reforms to professionalize the army at his own pace and only when it suits regime

survival interests.

Between 2002 and 2004, Uganda undertook an ambitious defence review process intended to

professionalize the army and improve military efficiency. Following the completion of the review

process, the UPDF started implementing the recommended reforms. The idea was that these

reforms would pave the way for the UPDF to play its conventional role of defending the country

from its external threats and allow the police to keep law and order. Whereas these reforms have

successfully strengthened the UPDF’s technical proficiency, they have failed to make it less

political. Therefore, the army remains a highly personalized institution whose character and nature

is tied to the person of Museveni to a significant degree. Below I start by examining the defence

review process and its recommendations. I then show how defence reforms have improved the

technical capabilities of the UPDF but failed to depersonalize and depoliticize the army.

The Premise of Uganda’s Post-Conflict Defence Review

Two decades after capturing and consolidating power, the elites within the NRA sought to change

the ideological orientation and strategic vision. They argued that, having seized power through

guerrilla warfare, the NRA essentially remained a guerrilla outfit with limited appeal beyond the

former bush war comrades.382 Exacerbating this problem was the scale of atrocities committed by

the NRA in its pacification of the northern and eastern parts of Uganda (see chapter III). Its brutal

tactics raised doubts among Ugandans about the NRA’s commitment to democracy and human

rights. Likewise, the government continued to spend a big sum of its budget on unnecessary

military expenditure and many of these resources were lost through corruption and pillage.383

382 Joshua Rubongoya, (2007) Regime Hegemony in Museveni’s Uganda: Pax Musevenica, pp. 181. New York: Palgrave Macmillan. 383 Roger Tangri and Andrew Mwenda, (2007) ‘Military Corruption & Ugandan Politics since the Late 1990’s’, Review of African Political Economy, 30: 98, 2003, pp. 539-552.

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The post-cold war era saw donor countries develop an agenda that links security and development.

The cold war blocs had agreed to resolve outstanding regional conflicts and curtail the flow of

arms in war-torn regions.384 The focus shifted to security sector reform, which was seen as an

important tool for conflict prevention. Accordingly, by the late 1990s and early 2000s, the lack of

accountability and professionalism in Uganda’s defence apparatus attracted the attention of the

international donor community. The donors’ concerns stemmed from the fact that Uganda’s

defence spending as a percentage of GDP continued to rise annually despite growing socio-

economic problems.385 The country’s limited financial resources, the donors contended, were

being spent on salaries for redundant soldiers and purchase of military weapons at the expense of

other important matters like health, education and infrastructure development. Hence, international

financial institutions like the World Bank and the International Monetary Fund decided to peg their

financial assistance to Uganda to cuts on military expenditure until the government achieved the

required defence spending level of 2% of GDP.386 This attracted the ire of Uganda’s ruling elites,

who accused the donors of being indifferent to Uganda’s security concerns. The government

maintained that high military expenditure was necessary to improve security in order to create a

favourable climate for trade, investment and eventual economic growth.387 Museveni himself

warned donors that cutting defence spending posed a serious threat to the security of citizens,

particularly in northern Uganda where the UPDF was still battling LRA rebels.

The government’s objection was based on the notion that Uganda was sandwiched

between hostile neighbours like Congo, Sudan and Kenya who had refused to support the

NRA guerrilla war in the first place. It was, therefore, considered suicidal for the

government to cut defence spending amidst numerous security threats whose nature and

magnitude could not be evidently comprehended. As the UPDF political commissar

explains:

The donors, particularly the World Bank, were very wrong in forcing us to cut

military spending and restructuring our army. They forced us to retire many of

384 Thomas, Darryl C., and Ali A. Mazrui. (1992) “Africa's Post-Cold War Demilitarization: Domestic and Global Causes.” Journal of International Affairs, vol. 46, no. 1 pp. 157–174. 385 Roger Tangri and Andrew Mwenda, (2003). ibid. pp. 539-552 386 Andrew Mwenda and Roger Tangri (2005) “Patronage Politics, Donor Reforms, and Regime Consolidation in Uganda’, African Affairs, 104: 416, pp. 449-467. 387 Interview with Col. Shaban Bantariza. Ibid.

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our soldiers, thinking that there won’t be more wars. The outcomes were terrible

for Uganda. You had many individuals who had spent their entire lives in the

military being sent home (without) any retirement package. The result was

prolonged insurgencies like LRA and ADF because we ran short of

manpower.388

Advancing the notion of state fragility, the Uganda government looked for ways to persuade

donors to continue supporting its defence budget. A defense review process was launched to assess

the prevailing security threats and the necessary resources needed to defend the country. The UK’s

Department for International Development agreed to fund the entire process with the aim of getting

clarity on the threats to Uganda’s security. Although the process was led by the Ministry of

Defence, the review committee consisted of multiple government departments and agencies,

parliament, members of academia and civil society groups. It was carried out between June 2002

and May 2004, led by Uganda’s Defence Reform Secretariat in the Ministry of Defence. The key

players in the review process included: the Commander-in-Chief, Yoweri Museveni; Defence

Minister Amama Mbabazi, Deputy Minister of Defence Ruth Nankabirwa; Ministry of Defence

Permanent Secretary Gabindadde Musoke; Army Commander Gen. Aronda Nyakairima; UPDF

Chief of Staff Maj. Gen. Joshua Masaba and the donor community, particularly the UK.389

Proponents of the defence review argued that the political crises that Uganda faced from 1966 to

1986 had a deleterious effect on the country’s military infrastructure. Most of the soldiers had been

displaced, records destroyed, and operation procedures muddled.390 Hence, there was a need to re-

build the entire defence infrastructure based on the principles of meritocracy, transparency and

accountability. Moreover, having captured power following a bush war, the NRA systems were

deemed obsolete because they seemed to spring from a guerrilla mind-set.391 In their interactions

with citizens, the NRA soldiers continuously exhibited a guerrilla-like mentality which was

considered counterproductive for the sustainability of the newly attained peace. Thus, the

government needed to modernize the military from a rag-tag guerrilla outfit into a modern,

professional and accountable defence force. The focus was on the ‘hardware’ and ‘software’ of the

388 Interview with Col. Felix Kulayigye. ibid. 389 Uganda Government White Paper on Defence Transformation, June 2004. 390 Hendrickson, D 2007) (ed.) Uganda Defence Review: Learning From Experience, Kings College, London, UK 391 Interview with Hon. Muwanga Kivumbi, a Member of Parliament who sits on the Parliamentary Defence Committee (June 3, 2016).

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military––that is, to provide the military with the necessary armaments to defend the country but

also to change the mind-set, beliefs and personality traits of soldiers so that they could see

themselves as a national army representing the interests and aspirations of all Ugandans

irrespective of political affiliations and ethnic identities.

Post-Defence Review Military Reforms

The defence review process resulted in the publication of a Defence White Paper that outlined

strategies for reform and provided guidance on the creation of a professional national army. It

outlined the core national interests and the roadmap for defence expenditure and procurement.

Among other things, it proposed concrete measures to reduce wastage in military spending while

directing resources to fund actions that could reduce likely perilous threats. Finally, it offered an

opportunity to the international donor community to identify areas for cooperation in which they

could offer strategic guidance to Uganda’s defence priorities.392

The initial focus centred on rebuilding the army’s internal systems and processes, which would

transform the NRA into the Uganda People’s Defence Force (UPDF). This transformation, it was

argued, would facilitate the creation of a truly national army, representing all aspects of Uganda’s

socio-economic and spatial dimensions. Then the attention shifted to addressing Uganda’s long-

term and immediate security needs and the size of the force needed to confront such threats. The

government drastically reduced the size of the military from 60,000 to 48,000 soldiers. This was

meant to lay a foundation for long-term effectiveness in the conduct of the military. A small force,

it was argued, would be less of a burden to the economy, easy to train and equip, and able to carry

out its operations efficiently. The demobilized personnel were enrolled in a reserve force that was

under constant surveillance in the event they engaged in destabilizing activities. In executing the

demobilisation process, Uganda kept a keen eye on its key security threats. These were identified

by the defence review committee as: 1) border insecurity, including covert and overt invasion,

illicit trade and illegal crossing (2) destabilizing external influences, specifically threats from

outside Uganda’s borders such as hostile policies/actions of neighbouring states, (3) political

instability, especially tensions emerging from internal governance challenges, weak state

institutions and political competition, (4) environmental stress and resource challenges, (5) social

392 Interview with Felix Kulayigye, Ibid.

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polarization and, 6) civil disasters.

Among the internal reforms that were introduced was the re-organization of the military into two

service forces. The military was to be segmented into the Land Forces, the Airforce and any other

service force prescribed by parliament. Since then, the president has added the Reserve Force and

the Special Forces, all of which function as fully-fledged service forces. Further, within the service

forces, there were other strategic sub-divisions. These included: the infantry division, the armoured

brigade, the air defence division, the artillery division, the engineering brigade, the service

battalion and the field hospital. These divisions are now strategically and geographically stationed

in different parts of Uganda, ready to confront any threat to Uganda’s sovereignty. For instance,

the first division is located at Kakiri, a small town near the capital, Kampala. It oversees security

for central Uganda. The second division is headquartered in Mbarara and oversees security in

western Uganda. The third division is headquartered in the eastern town of Moroto and oversees

security in eastern Uganda and the restive Karamoja region. The fourth division is headquartered

in the northern town of Gulu and oversees security in the north and the West Nile sub-region. Each

division is headed by a division commander who is assisted by several structures like the division

intelligence unit and the division court martial.

Based on the identified threats, the Defence White Paper proposed an investment of $64 million

to transform the UPDF from a conscription-based military force to a merit-based professional

army. In terms of military hardware, the review recommended the acquisition of four inshore patrol

crafts to maintain security on its length of River Nile and Lake Victoria, plus a $332,000

investment in training programs for the marine crew to operate the patrol craft. To its credit, the

UPDF successfully procured eight vessels as recommended by the review and developed programs

to train a marine unit to operate these vessels. As a result, Uganda’s length of Lake Victoria, Lake

Albert and River Nile remain relatively secure despite insecurity in neighboring countries like

South Sudan and the Democratic Republic Congo.393

The White Paper envisaged the acquisition of attack helicopters to provide support to the infantry

in future conflicts. However, it is not clear whether the UPDF has added any new helicopters to its

fleet of six MiG-24s. What is known is that the UPDF lost three of its helicopters in an accident

393 Interview with Col. Ba-Hoku Barigye, UPDF deputy Political Commissar (July 17, 2016)

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over Mount Kenya in 2012 as they flew to support the African Union intervention mission in

Somalia. The government has tried, without success, to get compensation from the UN. In 2014,

the Army Commander confirmed that the UN had indeed refused to compensate Uganda for the

lost helicopters because they crashed before reaching Somalia.394 According to a report in 2012 by

the International Institute for Strategic Studies, Uganda’s air force remains in bad shape. Apart

from the six MiG-24s, it has another fleet of seven reconditioned MiG 21s acquired from Poland

in 1999. One was lost in 2008 in an accident that killed its pilot. Many of the existing helicopters

are in poor shape and considered non-operational.395

Although the defence review outlines Uganda’s defence needs––both material and financial––the

Ugandan government continuously engages in potential overreach by purchasing military

hardware not envisaged in the White Paper. For instance, between 2011 and 2012, the government

purchased six multi-role Sukhoi Su-30MK2 fighter jets from Russia. The deal, worth US$740

million, was signed in May 2011. The expenditure sparked uproar among Ugandans who

questioned the wisdom of spending such large sums of money on military aircraft that possibly

will never be used.396 The government justified the acquisition by citing insecurity in the east of

the Democratic Republic of Congo and South Sudan, as well as the need to protect the newly

discovered oil resources in the Albertine region. The mysterious circumstances under which the

transaction was conducted did not help the government’s case. For instance, the government

withdrew more than half of the money from the treasury and made a down payment without

parliamentary approval. Later, it asked parliament to approve the expenditure retrospectively,

sparking a disagreement between the legislature and the executive branches of government.

Speaking on this incident, Oduman Okello, the shadow minister of finance at the time, said:

A government that stealthily withdraws money from the Consolidated Fund

(treasury) and spends it on war machines while its hospitals lack essential drugs

-- how can one describe that government? Insanity.397

394 Daily Monitor “UN won’t pay Uganda for crashed choppers” ( September 28, 2014) Available online: http://www.monitor.co.ug/News/National/UN-won-t-pay-Uganda-for-crashed-choppers/688334-2467142-2xbqwyz/index.html 395 IISS the Military Balance report 2012 396 Interview with Francis Mwijukye, MP for Buhweju constituency (May 12, 2015) 397 See the interview of shadow finance minister Oduman Okello as quoted Reuters by “Uganda opposition: govt wrong to buy Russia fighters” (April 7, 2011) Available online: http://www.reuters.com/article/uganda-jets-idAFLDE7361WA20110407 (Accessed May 14, 2018)

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Perhaps the government’s purchase of fighter jets is justified if one considers the threats identified

in the White Paper. Among the threats was the likelihood of a full-scale invasion by a hostile

power, particularly Sudan under the leadership of Omar Hassan al-Bashir, who was accused of

having launched bombing raids in northern Uganda towns of Adjumani and Pakele in which six

people were injured.398 Other threats acknowledged in the White Paper include; cross-border

incursions by insurgent groups and illegal movement of people, especially refugees and criminal

groups that could destabilize the country. Internally, the government is cognisant of the fact that

Uganda’s changing political landscape presents daunting internal threats to the regime. These

internal threats are inevitable because they emanate from the prevailing socio-political and

economic challenges. For instance, the transition from Museveni’s rule, if not well handled, could

potentially undermine the regime’s hold on power and exacerbate political tensions that undermine

national cohesion.399 The increased role of the UPDF in peacekeeping operations in countries such

as Somalia has also helped Museveni to justify huge military expenditure and attract donor funding

to the army through capacity building programs.

Impact of the Strategic Defence Review

More than a decade since Uganda undertook its strategic security review, it is imperative that we

assess how reforms have increased the capacity of UPDF and created many opportunities for

military corruption. It is possible to look at this issue through two lenses. The first is to assess the

internal processes and operational capability of the UPDF as a fighting force. The second is to

assess the professionalism of UPDF -- that is, whether the mind-set of soldiers has changed from

that of a guerrilla outfit protecting the interest of the NRA to one of a national army which is non-

partisan, and which embodies the interests and aspirations of all Ugandans.

Since the completion of the review, a significant amount of resources has been allocated for various

initiatives designed to facilitate professionalization and modernization of the army, enhance the

capacity of intelligence agencies, and to create a reserve force as well as a village-based Local

Defence Units (LDU). The UPDF also moved to play an active role in regional security through

conflict intervention and resolution. At the same time, the government vowed to maintain a well-

398 Relief Web “Sudan Denies It Bombed Northern Uganda” ( October 6, 1998) Available online: http://reliefweb.int/report/sudan/sudan-denies-it-bombed-northern-uganda (Accessed May 3, 2018) 399 Interview with Nicholas Opio. Ibid.

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trained and well-equipped force ready to respond to sudden events like insurgencies but also invest

in preventive measures to mitigate these threats. As suggested by the defence review, new organs

like the Joint Intelligence Committee (JIC) and the National Security Council (NSC) were created

in 2003 to streamline the command and control systems of the army. The president officially chairs

the NSC. The council has broad representation that includes the ministries of Internal Affairs,

Foreign Affairs, Defence, Security and the Office of the Attorney General. All heads of security

organs are also given a seat on the NSC. These include: the Inspector General of Police, the Chief

of Defence Forces, the head of Internal Security Organization (ISO) and the head of the External

Security Organization (ESO). Among its roles, the NSC advises the president on security matters,

coordinates intelligence and reviews from the Joint Intelligence Committee (JIC). At local

government levels, new structures like the District Security Committees (DSC), the District

Intelligence Committees (DIC) and Sub-County Security Committees were created, each headed

by military intelligence officers.

From the above explanation, it is evident that the internal restructuring of the UPDF has been

successful at creating bureaucratic systems within the force. The UPDF now has structures that

engage in vigorous security assessments and continuously produce security guidance that outlines

Uganda’s military and non-military threats. The restructuring process resulted in the

demobilization of many soldiers, many of whom had been redundant, which helped the army cut

costs. Senior military officers allude to the fact that the UPDF is now a well-trained and well-

equipped military force because it engages in regular assessment of operational requirements

needed to contain Uganda’s threats as well as the size of the force necessary to do the work. Also,

the legal framework under which the UPDF operates has changed, which has helped to streamline

the command and control structures of the army. The UPDF Act provides guidelines on the

composition, deployment, recruitment, retirement and remuneration for the soldiers. That law also

explains how the UPDF should be organized, trained and in what role they should be deployed.

Accordingly, members of the UPDF are supposed to be “non-partisan, national in character,

patriotic, professional, disciplined, productive and subordinate to civilian authority.”400The

restructuring of the UPDF into formal infantry and mechanized infantry brigades has been very

essential in improving the capability of the force. The UPDF is now a productive and skilled force.

400 The UPDF Act, 2005

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It has engaged in successful missions in the Democratic Republic of the Congo and the Central

African Republic, fought insurgencies in the northern and western parts of Uganda, and recently

fought an indigenous rebellion in South Sudan. The UPDF has also gained international standing

for its external peacekeeping missions in countries like Somalia and Liberia. As Jonathan Fisher

explains, Museveni’s external missions aimed at fighting terrorism have impressed donors who

are now eager to finance Uganda’s defence budget because they consider the UPDF to be an

important ally in the US-led war on terror.401

Whereas the UPDF’s successes at internal restructuring cannot be underestimated, my focus here

is to evaluate whether, as envisaged in the White Paper, the UPDF has transitioned from a guerrilla

mentality to a non-partisan national army embodying the interests and aspirations of Ugandans

more broadly. Certainly, the evidence shows that this aspiration remains a pipe dream. What is

clear is that, as the regime continues to face mounting economic instability, social unrest, and

growing political upheaval, the UPDF, which by law is supposed to be a non-partisan institution,

has proved an important factor in regime survival. In what follows I show how the military has

been used to entrench Museveni’s rule by curtailing activities that challenge the status quo. Indeed,

the political role of the Ugandan military places the donor community in a Catch-22 situation.

They have generously contributed towards building the capacity of the UPDF, with hopes that it

would be useful in the US-led war on terror and in African peacekeeping operations, yet this

enhanced capacity has also personally benefited Museveni, who is inclined to use the army to

suppress internal political opposition against his rule (see next chapter).

To comprehend how the interests of the military and political elites converge in the Museveni

regime, it is crucial that we focus on understanding the character of these elites and the nature of

their overriding interest. Once this is clear, it can then be appreciated why both the military and

the political elites often have no qualms about the domestic use of military force to quell the

political opposition. Whereas the military reforms were ostensibly geared towards transforming

the UPDF into a professional and accountable force, in practice this has not happened. As the next

section shows, the top-ranked elites in the army comprise the president’s relatives, his tribesmen,

401 Jonathan Fisher (2012) “Managing donor perceptions: Contextualizing Uganda's 2007 intervention in Somalia”, African Affairs, Volume 111, Issue 444, July 2012, Pages 404–423.

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members of his ‘bush war’ inner circle, or individuals from his geographical region. The rational

fear of losing privileges and power drives these individuals to use the military to preserve their

status because they see any threat to the regime as a threat to their material well-being. Below I

further examine these issues in detail.

Personalization of the Military

When the NRA came to power in 1986, it established the National Resistance Council (NRC),

which then was composed of thirty-eight leading NRA political cadres and military elites. The

NRC served as the first parliament of the newly formed government and was essentially dominated

by appointees of the President. The NRC was expanded in April 1987 to incorporate cabinet

ministers and their deputies, some of whom were not members of the original NRA nucleus.402

The NRC served as a legislative assembly

In February 1989, new legislation provided for further expansion of NRC through election and

appointment of additional members. This was a deliberate attempt to make the NRA’s government

appear more inclusive in contrast to previous regimes. For instance, individuals from the northern

region had dominated the Obote regime and the people from the West Nile region dominated

Amin’s regime. Although the transformation of the NRA to the UPDF came with several reforms

aimed at creating an inclusive military force, the outcome of these reforms has been mixed. Indeed,

while there has been noticeable success at ethnic integration at the level of the regular army, the

topmost leadership of the UPDF has remained largely a preserve of Museveni’s home region of

western Uganda.403 For instance, until 2012, all the officers at the rank of full General, the top

echelon of the UPDF, hailed from the west. They included: the President himself; his brother, Gen.

Caleb Akwandwanaho (a.k.a. Salim Saleh); Gen. David Tinyefuza; Gen. Elly Tumwine; and Gen.

Aronda Nyakairima, who died in 2015. Facing frequent criticism from the press and opposition

politicians, the president promoted Gen. Jeje Odongo to full general in 2010. Odongo was thus the

first officer outside the President’s geographical region to attain such a position. However, he was

immediately retired from the Army following his promotion, a move some critics consider to be a

well-calculated attempt to curb his influence in the military. Subsequently, Museveni promoted

402 Mudoola, Dan M. 1(989) “Institution-Building: The Case of the NRM and the Military in Uganda, 1986--89.” Paper presented at the Conference on Uganda: Structural Adjustment and Revolutionary Change (Lyngby Landsbrugsskole, Denmark 403 International Crisis Group report, 2012

137

Moses Ali, an officer from West-Nile sub-region, to the rank of full General but his promotion

was regarded as inconsequential as Ali had already been retired from the army.

During the early years of Museveni’s rule, he regularly appeared on the national media to share

his vision of what the country’s military should look like. He argued that his dream was to build a

military institution that would form a foundation for Uganda’s democratization. The military, he

noted, should not be simply restricted to fighting wars but also play a role in driving socio-

economic transformation. His idea was that once internal peace and stability had been achieved,

the military would divorce itself from politics and allow democracy to take root in all institutions

of the state.404 Indeed, in the first fifteen years of Museveni’s rule, the military exhibited a high

level of discipline and civility, though still very political. Many Ugandans were praising Museveni

for his good management of the army and for heralding a departure from the country’s previous

crises of coups and military-orchestrated violence.405 Museveni was quick to blame previous

regimes for personalizing the military. To him, the regimes of Obote and Amin had failed to

manage the interests of armed elites and subordinate the military to civilian authority, which led

to many years of bloody strife. He writes in his memoir that:

In the past armies belonged to individuals and not to Uganda. We believe that

armies should be national and nationalist. They should not be swept away by the

changes of the government or by the exit of individuals from power...406

While Museveni claims that his mission was to create a professional army that is non-partisan and

accountable to the citizens of Uganda, the reality is somewhat different, as I show in the next

section. First, he has failed to separate the army from himself. He believes UPDF is a product of

himself and his regime and thus treats it like the regime’s army. Second, he has undermined the

professionalization of the army by effectively embedding the military within the ruling party. The

military now sees itself as an extension of the ruling party and works vigorously to safeguard the

subjective interests of the party and its individuals. I show that this personalization of the UPDF

is evident in how Museveni handles issues of appointments and promotions in the army and how

404 Professionalizing the army has been a common topic in various speeches of Museveni available online: http://www.statehouse.go.ug (Accessed August 3, 2018) 405 Oloka-Onyango, (2004) “‘New Breed’ Leadership, Conflict, and Reconstruction in the Great Lakes Region of Africa: A Sociopolitical Biography of Uganda’s Yoweri Kaguta Museveni”, Africa Today, p. 29. 406 Museveni Yoweri (2000) “What is Africa’s Problem?” Kampala.

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he employs the military to secure his political position. This is also evident in the informal

procedures he employs to deal with differences and disagreements emerging from within the army.

Appointment and Promotions in the Army

There is little evidence to suggest that promotions and appointments for top positions in the UPDF

are based on merit. The informal criterion seems to be how loyal an individual is to the President

and the ruling party. This means that the President must engage in secretive surveillance of his top

lieutenants to establish who deserves a promotion and who should be purged, or made redundant,

for disloyalty. Given Uganda’s history of military generals overthrowing their political leaders,

Museveni is said to value loyalty and trust among officers who are close to him. Hence, in his

attempt to recruit trusted officers, Museveni has often turned to his blood relatives, tribesmen and

his ‘bush war’ network.407 This means that transparency and meritocracy have been sacrificed at

the altar of tribalism and nepotism. As demonstrated above, five out of the seven individuals who

have obtained the highest rank in the army (full general) originate from the President’s home

region. A 2008 survey carried out by the Independent magazine of Uganda indicated that 75% of

the 23 top positions in the army were held by officers from western Uganda (Museveni home area).

The trend extends beyond the topmost leadership. The central region (Uganda’s largest region by

population) held only 17% of the topmost army leadership positions, the north 9% and the east had

zero.408 Time and again the President tries to rationalize this imbalance, arguing that it is logical

for the western region to dominate positions because when he launched his rebel group in the early

1980s he was first joined by people from his ethnic group. But this explanation does not stand up

to any serious scrutiny. More than three decades since Museveni captured power, what has he done

since to solve this problem? In fact, an examination of his recent appointments doesn’t reveal any

attempt to correct this imbalance. Instead, the President has entrenched this imbalance even further

because he apparently sees it as necessary for his survival in power. This is apparent because he

often finds himself reliant on his relatives and in-laws in the military to get intelligence information

and to execute special assignments. As Journalist Charles Onyango Obbo notes:

President Museveni turned to undermining the emergence of an independent

military as an institution…….he could only use a subjective criterion to allocate

407 Interview with Hon. Kaps Fungaroo, a Member of Parliament and former Shadow Minister for Defence 408 The Independent, January 25, 2008

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authority in the security services, and so he went tribal in a general sense, and in

very key jobs, he relied on the family. Narrow as these are, they still represent

some kind of criteria – blood relationship.409

In the table below, I show Museveni’s relatives and in-laws who are currently occupying or have

recently occupied high military positions.

Table 2: Museveni’s relatives holding top positions in the military

Name Position in the army Connection to the

President

Maj. Gen.

Muhoozi

Kainerugaba

The former commander of the elite Special Forces

Command (SFC), the best-trained and best-equipped

segment of the military. By virtue of this position, he

also controls other strategic units within the security

apparatus. Initially, SFC role was restricted to

providing security to the president but it has now

been expanded to include providing combat support

to the regular army, providing protection to strategic

national installations, including the oil fields and

gold mining sites. The SFC has also been providing

a supporting role to the police during anti-regime

protests in Kampala. The President has constantly

faced questions from his critics and even from his

party members about the speed at which the first son

rose through the military ranks, with some

suggesting that he is being groomed to succeed his

father. To deflect these criticisms the President

transferred his son from SFC and appointed him

Special Presidential Advisor in charge of security

operations, although critics maintain that this doesn’t

change the game plan as Kainerugaba informally

Museveni’s First Son

409 Independent, March 11, 2009.

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remains the de facto leader of the Special Forces

Command.

Gen. Caleb

Akandwanaho

a.k.a Salim

Saleh

Presidential advisor on Security. He has previously

served as minister of defence and minister in-

charge of microfinance

Young brother to

President Museveni

Col. Sabiiti

Muzeyi

Magenyi

Commander of the military police. Previously he

was the deputy commander of the Special Forces. He

is believed to be one of the young officers who

joined the army on the recommendation of first son

Kainerugaba. The military police force he

commands is a politically controversial organization

because of its role in the brutal crackdown of anti-

regime protests in urban centres like Kampala,

Masaka, Jinja, Mukono, Mbale and Mbarara.

Cousin to the President

Col. Kateera He started his military career as intelligence officer

attached to the Presidential Guard Brigade (PGB), a

precursor of the Special Forces, and joined the

lucrative financial department of the army in which

he was in-charge of contracts and processing

soldiers’ salaries. He has served as the second-in-

command at the UPDF 4th Division in northern

Uganda, the most influential of the four infantry

divisions of the military.

Cousin to First Lady

Janet Museveni

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Lt. Allan

Matsiko

State House counter-intelligence officer. Recently

he was involved in several controversies, including

a murder trial dismissed by court in 2009.

He is a brother to

Albert Muganga, Trade

Minister Amelia

Kyambadde’s cousin

and a husband to a

daughter of Foreign

Affairs Minister Sam

Kutesa, who is also a

father-in-law to first

son Kainerugaba.

Maj. Gen. Jim

Muhwezi

A bush-war confidant of Museveni who later served

as the head of Internal Security Organization, as a

Cabinet minister, and as a lawmaker. He has been

involved in several corruption controversies,

including the mismanagement of $200 million from

GAVI and the Global Fund for tuberculosis, AIDS

and malaria, when he was a minister of health, and

money for primary education when he was a junior

minister of education.

He is Museveni’s in-

law. His wife is a

cousin to First Lady

Janet Museveni and a

senga (Aunt) to

Museveni’s daughters.

Maj. Gen.

Henry

Tumukunde

The minister in charge of security. He previously

served as the chief of ISO as well as the director of

CMI. He also served as a member of parliament

representing the military.

He is married to Stella

Tumukunde, a cousin

to First Lady Janet

Museveni

Lt. Col.

Bright

Rwamirama

Current state minister for defence, in charge of

veterans. Previously, he served as the financial

controller of the military and once was a state

minister of agriculture.

He is a cousin to

Museveni

Data compiled from various sources e.g., government documents, Independent magazine, 2009:4,

Observer July 18, 2012 & Daily Monitor July 18, 2012.

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Table 2 shows relatives of Museveni who hold powerful military and strategic positions in the

army. It is the same story in other institutions of government like the civil service, government

parastatals and even key business entities. This underline the obvious fact: in Museveni’s regime,

family ties matter a lot. For regime critics, this blatant nepotism is detrimental to Uganda’s

democratic progress because it promotes one-man rule. But for regime insiders, it is a rational way

of promoting special trust and comradeship necessary for regime stability.

Although Museveni’s nepotistic tendencies have been widely denounced, such family-based

appointments are beneficial to him in many ways: first, when his relatives are at the helm of the

military, it makes it easy for Museveni to use the military for repression and coercion because it is

under the control of individuals with blind loyalty to him. Second, because top officials have a

blood connection to him, they also have a subjective interest in his holding onto power. They see

him as guaranteeing the protection of their wealth, power and privileges. A threat to Museveni is,

therefore, construed as a threat to their own privileges. Hence, they are willing to do everything

possible, irrespective of how repressive or cruel it might be, to protect the regime. In fact, more

than anything else, this power dynamic has allowed Museveni to rule Uganda for longer than all

other post-independence leaders combined (see next chapter).

The consequence of this family and ethnic-based rule is that Uganda is still far behind in efforts to

build a truly national army. Just as Obote and Amin saw the military as an extension of their power,

Museveni also sees the UPDF as more of a protective arm of his regime to be deployed against its

enemies. This attitude has created two problems: first, it has resulted in the militarization of politics

because the military is now at the forefront of purging Museveni’s rivals (see next chapter).

Second, it has politicized the military harming the development of the army as an institution as

independent voices inside the army are silenced. In parliament, for example, the ten MPs

representing the army are by law supposed to be non-partisan, but the regime forces them to toe

its line. These army MPs must support the ruling party on all controversial decisions lest they risk

the wrath of the President. When two army members of parliament; Col. Fred Bogere and Brig.

Henry Tumukunde in 2005 refused to vote in favour of removing the term limits from the

constitution to allow Museveni to run for a third term, the regime immediately purged them from

parliament. In his defence, Col. Bogere said he abstained from the vote because, as a serving army

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officer, it would be improper for him to pronounce himself on a partisan issue.410 However, the

regime would not accept that argument. Bogere was recalled by the army from parliament. His

boss, Gen. Aronda Nyakairima, then army chief, who had already voted in favor of the amendment,

accused Bogere of behaving contrary to the army’s collective position. To him, Bogere had to

“face disciplinary action” for insubordination.411 Indeed, since 2005, Bogere has been on what is

called katebe, which literally means ‘to be sat on a chair’ without any meaningful deployment.

Gen. Tumukunde resigned from parliament and later claimed he had signed his resignation letter

under duress from the President.412 Other Cabinet ministers like Eriya Kategaya, Miria Matembe,

Nuwe Amanya Mushega and Sarah Kiyingi were purged because they too spoke out against

amending the constitution. Interestingly, regime loyalists who supported the bill were rewarded.

For instance, Gen. Nyakairima was re-elected as army MP again and was kept in his position as

army chief for a decade, becoming the longest service army commander in the UPDF’s history.

Prof. Gilbert Bukenya, who campaigned around the country for the removal of term limits, was

appointed Vice President, a position he held for eight years. He was later replaced by Edward

Kiwanuka Ssekandi, a former parliamentary speaker who similarly had worked hard to pass the

controversial constitutional amendment bill through parliament.

From the above, it is evident that Museveni rewards loyalty and punishes disobedience. Whether

in the army or inside the ruling party, acts of disloyalty do not go unpunished, while loyalty is

rewarded. That is why MPs who led the controversial campaign to lift term limits from the

constitution in 2005 were rewarded with ministerial appointments while those who opposed the

controversial amendment were fired and violently arrested by the army on orders from the

President.413 The same scenario repeated itself ahead of the 2016 election when Museveni gave

ministerial posts to loyalist MPs like Evelyn Anite. She had brought a proposal to change the ruling

party’s constitution in order to block former Prime Minister Amama Mbabazi from competing

against Museveni for the right to be the ruling party’s flag bearer. Through this strategy Museveni

410 Interview with Muwanga Kivumbi. Ibid. 411 Daily Monitor “Ten years later: Revisiting term limits drama of 2005 - part I” (July 11, 2015) Available online: http://mobile.monitor.co.ug/News/Ten-years-later--Revisiting-term-limits-drama-of-2005---part-I/2466686-2782690-format-xhtml-uksx2z/index.html 412 The Observer ( February 13, 2018) “Col Fred Bogere on term limits: Museveni vowed to neutralize me” Available online: https://observer.ug/news/headlines/56910-col-fred-bogere-on-term-limits-museveni-vowed-to-neutralize-me (Accessed May 13, 2017) 413 Nganda S. Ibrahim (2017) “The Day Museveni’s Guards invaded Parliament’ Observer, October 4, Available online: https://observer.ug/viewpoint/55238-the-day-museveni-guards-invaded-parliament.html (Accessed 12 February 2019)

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is able to accomplish several things. First, he creates fear within the ruling party, especially among

those who may wish to criticize him. The message is clear: expect consequences. Second, because

his views go unchallenged, Museveni is able to create a belief among his followers that they are

better off with him -- that is, nobody can challenge him since most members appear to value his

leadership. This, in turn, cements the “big man” syndrome as everything runs at his discretion.

Inside his party, this strategy helps Museveni to create a sense of pluralistic ignorance (i.e., a

situation in which a majority in the regime feel that the decisions they have taken are wrong but

fear to raise objections, believing that others accept them). Raising an objection is equated to

challenging the regime leader and many believe that it is taboo to do so. Museveni is then able to

create a cult-like status by positioning himself as a selfless and benevolent leader fighting for the

survival and wellbeing of Ugandans while casting his critics as motivated by self-interest. For

instance, Museveni has consistently described the country’s opposition groups as “wolves lurking

around to tear Uganda apart” and says he will not hand over power as long as “I have support of

my army”.414 Finally, because he knows his own party cannot internally challenge him, he acts

decisively and with overreaching authority.

The 1995 Constitution––enacted when Uganda was a single-party state––allocates ten legislative

seats to the national army. After the country moved from a single party system to multipartisim in

2005, many political observers argued that the military should cease having representation in a

partisan parliament. However, Museveni has refused to listen to these critics. Instead, Museveni

has repeatedly justified the military’s presence in parliament with reference to Uganda’s

unfortunate past when the military used to disagree with decisions taken by politicians. He argues

that having the military play an active role in making political decisions is the only way to mitigate

such disagreements.415 Museveni has consistently dismissed fears that the presence of the army in

parliament would lead to the army taking partisan decisions. The army MPs, he contended, would

be restricted to listening and translating political decisions for the rest of the military. However,

army MPs have retained their voting powers, meaning they are forced to vote on partisan matters.

Moreover, parliamentary records show that they always vote with the ruling party.416 Those who

414 The Monitor (January 18, 2015) “I cannot leave power to wolves, says Museveni” Daily Monitor. Available online: http://www.monitor.co.ug/News/National/I-cannot-leave-power-to-wolves--says-Museveni/688334-2592430-11wm4baz/index.html (Accessed May 19, 2016). 415 Interview with Felix Kulayigye, ibid. 416 The voting record of MPs in the Ugandan parliament is available online via the Hansards. https://www.parliament.go.ug/documents/hansards (Accessed 12 February 2019)

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dare to vote against the wishes of the ruling party are labelled disobedient against the Commander-

in-Chief and kicked out of parliament (see next chapter).

To understand how the regime use the military to dominate the Ugandan state, it is vital that we

focus on key institutions of the state and how the military plays a fundamental role in the internal

political dynamics in these institutions. Whereas its role in politics was somewhat covert during

the first decade of Museveni’s rule, it has grown more visible with the changing political

landscape. It now finds itself at the centre of preserving Museveni’s rule and it is, among other

factors, why Museveni has managed to rule Uganda for over three decades now. Indeed, since

2001 Museveni’s willingness to use the military to curtail activities of those challenging the status

quo has grown stronger. In most cases, security forces have relied on extra-constitutional measures

to suppress internal threats to the regime. In view of the issues pursued above, it is imperative that

we examine the behaviour of security organs amidst significant anti-regime events.

The Uganda Police as a Quasi-Military Organization

Although the Ugandan police had historically been led by a civilian officer, in 2001 Museveni

appointed a senior army officer, then-Maj. Gen. Katumba Wamala, to serve as the Inspector

General of Police. Wamala’s appointment coincided with the 2001 presidential election. And, as

the overall police commander, Wamala was in charge of providing domestic security during that

election. Under his command, the police often curtailed efforts by opposition groups to address

rallies, especially in the countryside, considered the heartland of Museveni’s regime.417 During the

1996 general elections, the Uganda police generally behaved in a non-partisan fashion. However,

the 2001 elections were the first time under the NRM regime that the Uganda police had openly

acted in a partisan manner by violently intervening in an election process to support the regime.

Yet still Wamala succeeded in containing electoral-related violence at a substantially smaller scale.

After the elections, many Ugandans started to question the neutrality of the force, but Wamala

moved quickly to appear to repair the police’s image by launching several civilian-police

engagements. Wamala’s approach brought tangible benefits in terms of changing the internal

attitude of the police and its operational tactics, leading many Ugandans to assume that his

initiatives were well-intentioned. Others speculated that, given the positive change in the conduct

417 Interview Tumwine Patrick, the head of advocacy at Uganda Human Rights Network (July 18, 2016

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of many police officers, the 2006 election would be more peaceful than the previous one.418 To

the surprise of many political observers, however, Museveni carried out a swift reshuffle in the

police ahead of the 2006 election. He transferred Wamala back to the military and replaced him

with Gen. Kale Kayihura, another military general who had previously been commanding the

notorious Anti-Smuggling Unit of the UPDF. Prior to his appointment to police, Kayihura had also

gained notoriety as the operational commander of a UPDF brigade in the Ituri province of the

Democratic Republic of Congo when Uganda and Rwanda invaded that country in 1998.

Following Kayihura’s transfer, other military officers have at some point led a number of other

branches of the police, including now-defunct Special Branch, the Narcotics Division, the

Intelligence Unit and Rapid Response Unit with close ties to the regime.419

After taking control of the police, Kayihura introduced several changes designed to enhance the

police’s role in Uganda’s political process. He transferred and demoted many career police

officers, recruited thousands of new individuals into the force and promoted dozens of officers

considered to be supporters of the regime.420 He created new police structures and empowered old

ones with resources to deal with a wide range of criminal and political activities. Among these

structures were the Anti-Terrorism Unit, the Rapid Response Unit (RRU), the Police Standards

Unit, the Political Crimes Unit and the Flying Squad Unit. Many of these specialized units he

created were staffed with soldiers drafted directly from the UPDF to serve as police officers. The

problem is that these are officers trained as fighters, not as law enforcement officers. As confirmed

by the Uganda Human Rights Commission,421 the consequence of this strategy is that Uganda has

seen a tremendous increase in civilian deaths perpetrated by these officers.422 When confronting

anti-regime protests, the orders seem clear: shoot first and ask questions later.423 Asking

individuals with a warrior mindset to serve as police officers, a job they are not trained to do,

presents serious risks. For instance, in Uganda’s case, the militarization of police has made it

difficult to draw a distinction between actions of the Ugandan police and actions of the Ugandan

army. Military assignments are occasionally disguised as police actions when in actual sense there

418 Interview with Journalist Charles Odoobo-Bichachi. Ibid. 419 Rwengabo, Sabastiano (2012) “Regime Stability in Post-1986 Uganda: Counting the Benenefits of Coup-

Proofing." Armed Forces & Society. 39(3):531--559. 420 Interview with Francis Mwijuke. ibid. 421 See, for example, a statement by Uganda Human Rights Commission. Available online http://uhrc.ug/uhrc-statement-recent-‘shoot-kill’-order-uganda-police-force (Accessed June 12, 2019). 422Interview with Robert Ssempala, Director Uganda Human Rights Net-work for journalists (August 21, 2016) 423 Interviews with Michael Kabaziguruka, MP for Nakawa who has been arrested several times by the military (August 4, 2016)

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are military officers involved. This has created a lot of problems. Nicholas Opiyo, head of Chapter

Four-Uganda, a local human rights organization that provides legal aid to victims of police torture,

says most of the torture cases he has handled involve those soldiers now in police uniform. He

notes:

Sometimes it is difficult to ascertain whether it is the police or UPDF engaged

in torture. When the UPDF do torture, they dump their victims at police stations

when they are about to die. So, the police bear the burden. The truth is that all

these cases of torture are cases of which the police (are) just a recipient. The

army under CMI, not police, runs all safe houses. It is only that the army is good

at properly executing these unpopular things. If you go to room six at Kampala

Central Police Station (CPS); it is run by the soldiers. They dump their victims

after they have beaten them. And they leave police to face the burden and the

blame.424

Apart from integrating military officers into the police force, Kayihura expanded the size of the

police directorates. Initially, these efforts yielded fruit as the police’s presence was expanded to

many parts of the country that were previously under-policed, and many people expressed hope

that more police numbers would boost security of persons and safeguard rights, including civil

liberties. As it turned out, nothing of the sort has happened. First, in many areas of Uganda it

became difficult to distinguish a police officer from a military officer because they all found

themselves playing similar roles, especially in the northern part of the country where the UPDF

was fighting the LRA insurgency. Military officers of the UPDF operated many of the police posts

and many residents could not tell the difference between the military and the police. A February

2007 report by the UN High Commissioner for Human Rights decried the near fusion of the police

with the military. It noted that the failure by the government to separate the two institutions in

practice had led to “confusion of military and civilian policing functions which limits the

confidence of the public in the police to effectively maintain law and order.”425 Moreover, many

of the newly recruited police officers had not been trained to understand the essentials of the job

424 Interview with Nicholas Opio.ibid. 425 A report by the United Nations (UN) High Commissioner for Human Rights as reference in Human Watch report. Available online: https://www.hrw.org/legacy/english/docs/2007/05/21/uganda15971_txt.htm (Accessed February 26, 2017)

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they were now deployed to do.

Since 2005 Kayihura has sought to militarize the police to a degree never seen before in Uganda’s

post-colonial history. The conduct of the police under Kayihura during the general elections of

2016, 2011 and 2006 suggests that Museveni approved Kayihura’s strategy of integrating military

men into the police force. To achieve this, Kayihura had first to position the police at the forefront

of the regime’s survival strategy. The police are no longer restricted to their traditional role of

keeping law and order but are now central to some of the brutal actions perpetrated against the

opponents of Museveni, arresting and jailing them on trumped-up charges, placing them under

house arrest and surveilling them on behalf of the regime (as shown by Kayihura’s leaked

intelligence audio tapes examined in the next section). The police are also at the forefront of

implementing draconian laws meant to gag freedom of expression and association. For instance,

the Public Order Management Act (POMA) gives the police broad powers to permit or disallow

any public gathering of more than three people in any public place. The law has now become a

blueprint for oppression and repression. Opposition groups are required to secure police

permission in advance of any gathering or face criminal charges. While organizers of social events

have had no difficulty in securing the approval of the police, events of a political nature rarely get

approved. Both Museveni and Kayihura were supporters of this controversial law and widely

promoted it as necessary for peace and stability.

It should be emphasized that such restrictions on political gatherings are enforced in violation of

established legal provisions and instruments meant to guide police operations.426 For example,

Article 29 of the country’s constitution guarantees freedom of conscience, expression, movement,

assembly and association.427 Human rights advocates interviewed for this research said they were

deeply frustrated by the police’s failure to conduct themselves in conformity with the procedures

prescribed in the Police Statute.428 Others argue that it is perhaps unfair to blame the police because

most of the officers accused of brutalizing civilians are military officers dressed in police

uniforms.429 Also, there is a belief among several armed officers that the more brutally they

conduct themselves against the regime’s opponents the easier it is for them to get promoted or

426 The Uganda Constitution 1995 427 Ugandan Constitution, 1995. 428 Interview with Robert Ssempala. ibdi. 429 Interview with Margaret Sekajja, the former UN special country rapporteur on human rights, now the executive director Human Rights Centre (June 9, 2015)

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recognized by Museveni. Critics of the police’s conduct such as Margaret Sekajja, the former UN

special country rapporteur on human rights who is now the executive director of a local NGO

called the Human Rights Centre, argue that the police’s misconduct should not be blamed on

regular officers but on its top leadership, including the President, who condone brutality. Sekajja

has conducted several human rights training sessions with high-ranking officers and rank-and-file

members but she remains frustrated by the failure of the police leadership to practice the basic

elements of what they learn. Many officers, she says, express their willingness to act professionally

but seem constrained by the command structure, which imposes undue influence on their actions.

She notes:

Many of these officers are lawyers. They clearly understand human rights and

the role they are expected to play. When you question their brutal conduct, they

give you one excuse: ‘We are just following orders from above’. You are left

wondering who’s that ‘above’ that gives these irrational orders.430

As the opposition to Museveni’s regime gathers momentum, the position of the Inspector General

of Police (IGP) has become politically sensitive. The 2003 Police Act gives the President the power

to appoint the IGP and Museveni has sought to ensure that it is occupied by someone with blind

loyalty to him. In choosing the IGP, Museveni has proved that competence is secondary to royalty.

He has to ensure that whoever occupies this position is a regime conformist. As one lawmaker

says: “It is all about who can serve better the interests of an individual hell-bent on keeping himself

in power at all cost.”431

Many Ugandans have continued to decry the police’s acts of brutality and have submitted dozens

of petitions to the President requesting him to replace Kayihura, yet Museveni keeps renewing

Kayihura’s contract every five years. Kayihura often expresses his indifference to growing public

irritation over his operational tactics. He has encouraged the public to view his actions in the

broader perspective, arguing that they are sanctioned by the President.432 He has insisted he should

not be blamed, because he simply follows “orders from the President.”433 At one time he taunted

430 Interview with Margaret Sekajja. Ibid. 431 Interview with Francis Mwijuke.ibid. 432 Also, see Privacy International, 2015, p. 6. 433 Daily Monitor (December 16, 2015) I work on Orders from Museveni, Says Kayihura.” Available online: http://www.monitor.co.ug/News/National/I-work-on-orders-from-Museveni--says-Kayihura/688334-3000674-a2ibeq/index.html

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those faulting him for militarizing the police to “go hang themselves”434 because it is lawful. He

noted:

Those who have been saying Kayihura is militarizing police, it’s in the law. This

is just the beginning…I found police with SAR (semi-automatic rifles), now they

have SMGs (sub-machine guns), they now have anti-air craft machineguns 0.7.

I am now going to buy them Saba Saba (cannons). Why not? This is an order

from the President.435

As highlighted above, the implication of military officers occupying top positions in the police

force is that the distinction between military and police roles becomes blurred.436 On the surface,

the two institutions are supposedly separate, but they act the same and follow the same chain of

command. This situation, per many observers, emanates from the regime’s failure to transition

away from its “bush war mentality”.437 As one human rights activist observed:

Museveni believes that the military is a solution to Uganda’s problems. That’s

why you see the military dominating every institution of the state. The police

(are) headed by a general who has never had any training in policing. He believes

in military power first, not police. This is the same belief the President holds.

That’s why each time the President wants to make a serious statement he has

first to wear his military uniform.438

From the above discussion, the complexity of the networks of power under Museveni’s regime

becomes apparent. The security agencies form a strong pillar through which the informal power

structures of the regime operates. Whereas the Police Statute of 1994 supposedly places the IGP

under the Ministry of Internal Affairs, the IGP is not subjected to ministerial oversight. He operates

informally under the Office of the President. In this case, the President is willing to supervise his

activities and demand accountability on whichever assignments he is given. This problem is not

restricted to the operations of the police force. It also affects other security agencies in the country.

434 Daily Monitor (January 25, 2016) “Go hang- Kayihura tells off critics on crime preventers.” Available online: http://www.monitor.co.ug/News/National/Go-hang--Kayihura-tells-off-critics-on-crime-preventers/688334-3047648-edtody/index.html (Accessed May 24 2017) 435 Daily Monitor, Ibid. 436 Margaret Sekajja Ibid, p. 18 437 Interview with John Njoroge. ibid 438 Patrick Tumwine. ibid.

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In what follows, I explore this issue further in other security organs.

The Special Forces Command (SFC)

Museveni has always stated that he conceived the idea of creating a small-specialized military unit

after he formed his guerrilla army because it was difficult to conceal the movement of a large

group of more than 200 fighters. Hence, units like Kabaleega (Kapeeka area), Mondlane

(Makulubita area), Abdul Nasser (Matugga area), and Nkrumah (Bukomero-Lukoola-Kyankwanzi

area) were created. Later, another mobile unit was created to always travel with the Chairman of

the High Command to offer him protection. When the NRA captured power, this unit

metamorphosed into a Presidential Protection Unit, which was more or less the personal protection

force of the regime leader. It later grew to become a fully-fledged brigade, called the Presidential

Guard Brigade (PGB). Many observers estimate its numbers to be between 10,000 and 15,000.

In February 2010, the President merged the PGB with another elite unit of the army, forming what

is now called the Special Force Command (SFC), placed it under the command of his son Muhoozi

Kainerugaba, and deputized him by his cousin, Sabiiti Magyenyi. This means that the President’s

son was effectively put in charge of the nation’s best-equipped, best-paid and most-skilled force,

comprising well-trained commandos, paratroopers, infantry and artillery units. Apart from

receiving a better paycheck, SFC soldiers enjoy other privileges not available to those in the regular

army. For instance, they can leave their bases and visit their villages/family with their guns, which

regular soldiers cannot do. Initially, the role of the Special Forces was restricted to providing

protection to the president, but when the force was further expanded to become a fully-fledged

service force within the UPDF, its mandate was expanded to include combat missions. The 2004

Defense Review had created only two autonomous service forces, the air force and the land force.

But the expansion of the Special Forces to constitute a third service force meant that its weapons

were upgraded to match the land and air forces and its budget and manpower increased. In line

with this upgrade, the President’s son was promoted from brigadier to major general, a promotion

intended to give him the rank required for a commander of a service force.

Currently, the SFC is an influential factor in Uganda’s internal political affairs. It is often deployed

to support the police in crushing anti-regime protests, manages key surveillance systems, guards

key national assets like oil fields, and gathers intelligence on various political actors inside and

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outside the ruling party. A significant number of individuals interviewed for this research alluded

to the fact that the biggest threat the country will face as it transitions from Museveni’s rule is not

from the UPDF (which is mainly constituted by the regular army) but rather from the SFC, which

is dominated by servicemen from Museveni’s ethnic group and from his home region. As one

political observer notes:

You cannot join SFC unless you have passed a strict vetting process. State agents

first come to your village, then to your family, then to you. They collect

interviews from all your family members about your political views and your

ethnicity. You cannot be recruited unless you have been recommended by trusted

members of either Museveni’s family, his relatives or his inner circle. I know

youths in my village who have been recommended by Gen. Kayihura to SFC

simply because he comes from the same area.439

Whereas critics are quick to point to the negative implications of this familial and ethnic-based

recruitment policy, they often ignore the motivation behind this strategy. The strategy, I argue, is

beneficial to the president in many ways: First, he has managed to create a large number of military

officers who are loyal to him but also see their political survival and economic fortunes as

entangled with the survival of the regime. Clearly, the motivation here is to retain power. Museveni

has built a strong coalition based on family and ethnic ties, which has effectively become the

foundation for regime hegemony. Second, because the coalition is based on blood relationships,

Museveni is able to create cohesion and contain discontent in the army. This explains why officers

from his family and his ethnic group are appointed to occupy top positions in the army. To these

officers, a threat to the regime is considered a threat to their family and to their ethnic group.

Therefore, they are willing to employ the military power at their disposal to thwart threats to the

regime without questioning whether their actions are legitimate or illegitimate.

Unlike the SFC, the regular army follows a more transparent recruitment process. This helps the

President to deflect most of the criticisms related to how he personalizes the army because he can

point to the regular army to dismiss such criticisms. When conducting fieldwork for this research,

I noticed that the army hierarchy was eager to share with me statistics about how well different

439 Interview with Benard Sabiti, a Kampala-based governance expert

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tribes and regions of Uganda are represented in the army. Indeed, existing standard procedure for

recruitment into the UPDF confirm that the UPDF considers quotas for each district. The quota

system is considered transparent because recruitment is done at district level, not national level.

Each of Uganda’s 136 districts is allocated a specific quota commensurate with its population

size.440 This recruitment strategy is representative because it caters for both spatial differences and

ethnic representation. Nonetheless, one would be misled to believe that this so-called transparent

process has made the UPDF a national army because, as explained in the previous section, the top

leadership is still dominated by President’s home region and his tribesmen. Moreover, whenever

I asked about the SFC figures, they did not want to reveal this information, arguing that such

information is classified because of the sensitivity of the work the SFC does.

The Chieftaincy of Military Intelligence (CMI), the Internal Security Organization (ISO) and

the External Security Organization (ESO)

Uganda has three known intelligence organizations: the Chieftaincy of Military Intelligence

(CMI), the External Security Organizations (ESO) and the Internal Security Organization (ISO).

The CMI is the intelligence arm of the army, though many sources suggest that it operates outside

of the operation command of the UPDF441 and has been cited by many human rights reports as

operating like a separate security organization that reports directly to the President.442 The CMI is

strictly supposed to collect military intelligence. The ISO, by contrast, deals with monitoring the

Ugandan society and carrying out domestic surveillance. Officials at ISO collect and prepare

intelligence files on elected politicians, government agencies and civil activists.443 Finally, the

ESO is primarily charged with collecting information from foreign sources. It also monitors any

form of communications and links between military officials and individuals abroad.

Although the President appoints the directors of three organs, the formal chain of command is that

they report to the security minister, who then reports to the President. However, the President often

circumvents the official hierarchy and deals directly with the heads of these agencies, often without

the knowledge of the line ministry.444 In fact, the heads of these institutions are very powerful and

likely more influential than the line minister, who is supposed to oversee their activities. It is also

440 Interview with Col. Ba-hoku Barigye. ibid. 441 Privacy International. ibid. p. 5 442 Human Rights Watch, 2003 and 2004 reports 443 Rwengabo, Sabastian 2012, Ibid 444 Interview with Asuman Bisiika.ibid.

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important to note that, although these agencies are headed by military officers, loyalty to the

regime plays a significant role in their appointment. Of course, this is a deliberate strategy by the

regime leader to subject these agencies to his own oversight, thereby circumventing the formal

bureaucratic hierarchy. Museveni recognizes the sensitivity of the work these agencies do and how

crucial they are for his survival. A trusted confidant of the president heads each organ, and

Museveni is known to monitor the movements and activities of the top bosses at these intelligence

agencies. As one senior military intelligence officer explains:

He has to keep monitoring them because he knows that they have secret

information about how the system works. He trusts them to collect intelligence

information for him, but he can’t be 100% sure that they cannot use the same

information against him. That’s why he has to do counter-surveillance on all of

them.445

As the Museveni regime continues to encounter obstinate resistance, these intelligence organs have

become visible for their actions against human rights activists and opponents of Museveni. They

operate unofficial detention facilities called ‘safe houses’ in which they torture their suspects to

reveal information about anti-regime activities. After interviewing former and current prisoners,

Human Rights Watch said in its 2009 report that the forms of torture employed by these

intelligence organs include genital and body mutilation, tying and suspending victims from the

ceiling, beatings and electrocution.446 Speaking about their increased role in Uganda’s politics, the

former UN rapporteur on human rights in Uganda noted:

We wrote a report pointing out the brutality and killing of civilians…we insisted

that there was a ‘safe house’ at Summit View in Kololo and gave them a notice

that we want to visit the place. They refused that it was not a safe house. When

we went there, they took us around and we saw just offices. But on the way back,

one individual whispered to us that there was a dungeon underground the

building operated by CMI; that prisoners had been transferred when they heard

that we were coming.447

445 Interview with a retired intelligence officer (O4) who did not want to be publicly identified 446 Gerald Bareebe (2010) “Rights body blocked from Safe Houses” ) Daily Monitor (February 23), Kampala, Available online: http://www.monitor.co.ug/News/National/688334-866940-c9cav5z/index.html (accessed November 10, 2018) 447 Interview with Margaret Sekajja.IBID.

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A significant number of opposition leaders say they have been arrested and tortured by agents

belonging to ISO, ESO and CMI. Upon such arrests, they are asked to reveal information about

their planned activities and their sources of funding, or to confirm the movements and operations

of opposition figure like Kizza Besigye. For instance, Francis Atugonza, the former mayor of

Hoima who is a member of the opposition FDC party, was in 2009 arrested and detained

incommunicado in a safe house at Summit View. As Atugonza recalled:

They tortured me to the point I could not talk. They beat me and tied my legs on

the roof, leaving me swinging upside down. They asked me where Besigye was

getting money for his campaign. They said I was part of a group led by Besigye

that was planning to overthrow the government. When I responded that being a

member of the opposition was lawful under Uganda’s constitution, they beat me

mercilessly until I become unconscious. I think being a prominent person; they

realized that I might die. So, they drove me to the police and asked police officers

to take me to the hospital. That is where my family and friends found me nursing

injuries all over my body.448

Because of the way the President uses intelligence organs to clamp down on his critics both inside

his own party and in the opposition, he understands that for this strategy to work these intelligence

agencies must be loyal to him and should report directly to him. That is why Museveni must ensure

that the security minister is not too ambitious. As outlined below, the President has learnt from his

experience with Amama Mbabazi that a security minister with political ambitions can harness the

power of intelligence organs to gain political capital. In such situations, Museveni is quick to

transfer a security minister who attempts to impose his authority on the intelligence organs. At the

same time, he has been quick to fire intelligence chiefs whose loyalty is suspect. For instance, in

2011 Museveni surprised many when he dropped Mbabazi as security minister. There had been

speculation inside the ruling party that Mbabazi was indeed the man in charge of Museveni’s

government because of the way he brazenly consolidated power. He was feared and revered by

many in the party to the extent that he was considered the second most powerful person in

Uganda.449 Political analysts and even members of the ruling party argued that Mbabazi had

448 Interview with Francis Atugonza, former Mayor of Hoima municipality and opposition fugure (August 17, 2017) 449 Chimpreports (November 18, 2015) “Tumwebaze: Mbabazi was most powerful Minister in Museveni’s abinet” Available http://www.chimpreports.com/tumwebaze-mbabazi-was-most-powerful-minister-in-musevenis-cabinet (Accessed May 20, 2018)

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exploited the intelligence organs to create a strong power base within the party to the extent that

he was said to be running his own “shadow state” within the state. Mbabazi, also doubled as the

secretary general of the ruling party, an influential position that placed him in control of party

structures. He used the intelligence agencies to purge his critics and promote his allies to senior

positions. As Mbabazi’s influence grew, some vocal party members started to publicly question

whether Museveni was still in charge, prompting reassurances from Museveni.450

Although Mbabazi had once been one of Museveni’s most trusted comrades, the President became

alarmed by continued reports of Mbabazi’s political ambitions. He transferred him from the

security ministry and appointed him Prime Minister of Uganda. This move by the President,

however, did not stop speculation in the press and security circles about Mbabazi’s perceived

desire to succeed Museveni. Instead, more intelligence reports, some leaked to the media as audio

files, alleged that Mbabazi had been quietly mobilizing among party structures to support a

presidential bid in 2016.451 Some of the recordings captured police chief Kayihura interviewing

ruling party members about an alleged plot by Mbabazi to oust the President.452Several senior

police officers were prosecuted for leaking confidential tapes to the media. Then the government

rushed to court to secure an order to stop the media from further publishing details of the leaked

tapes.453 There were fears inside the ruling party that Mbabazi was convincing the grassroots to

support his candidature against Museveni, who was increasingly being accused of having a secret

plan to front his son as his successor. This did not go down well with Museveni, who blamed

Mbabazi for poisoning the minds of party supporters with false succession conspiracies. In a later

explanation, Museveni noted:

I sacked Mbabazi because he went around the country saying I was preparing

my son Muhoozi to become president. My son has never even stood for LC1 and

the Constitution is very clear on how one can be elected President.454

450 Daily Monitor “Museveni’s attack on Mbabazi rocks NRM” (June 21, 2012) Available online: http://www.monitor.co.ug/News/National/Museveni-s-attack-on-Mbabazi-rocks-NRM/688334-1431836-e8nbie/index.html (Accessed May 20, 2018) 451 NTV-Uganda (April 15, 2014) “New Secret Kayihura Tapes Leak” Available online: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ouWS1X2bFBg (Accessed May 20, 2018) 452 Daily Monitor (April 13, 2014) “ Where do the Tape Leaks leave Kayihura” Available online: http://www.monitor.co.ug/Magazines/PeoplePower/Where-do-the--Kale-Leaks--leave-Kayihura-/689844-2276840-vsshjz/index.html (Accessed May 20, 2018) 453 New Vision (June 26, 2014) “Press barred from Kayihura leaked tapes case” Available online: http://www.newvision.co.ug/new_vision/news/1342068/press-barred-kayihura-leaked-tapes (Accessed April 21, 2017) 454 Daily Monitor” (Nov 5, 2015) “Museveni Hits Out at Mbabazi Over Muhoozi” Available online at: http://www.monitor.co.ug/News/National/Museveni-hits-out-at-Mbabazi-over-Muhoozi/688334-2944022-po3lp2z/index.htm l(Accessed April 21, 2017)

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A few months later, Mbabazi announced his intention to contest the presidency. Immediately the

ruling party declared him a traitor and launched a well-calculated strategy to expel him from the

party. Mbabazi had planned to run against Museveni for the ruling party’s ticket but the party’s

voting guidelines were swiftly changed to block his candidature, paving the way for Museveni to

stand unopposed.

The above events highlight again the role of the police, led by a military general, in preserving

Museveni’s regime. Not only are the police and intelligence organs involved in cracking down on

the political opposition, they are also seen trying to tilt the internal dynamics within the ruling

party to favor Museveni. We see a police boss, who is supposed to be non-partisan, actively

supporting one candidate against another. He is involved in gathering intelligence information on

behalf of Museveni against Mbabazi, the same information that was later used to curtail Mbabazi’s

presidential bid. In the leaked intelligence tapes, Kayihura is also heard personally interviewing

ruling party cadres he considers supporters of Mbabazi and even promising them financial favors

in the event they crossed from Mbabazi’s camp to Museveni’s camp. All this points to the deeper

institutional problem emanating from the way Museveni has personalized power and how this

affects the independence of state institutions.

In the above discussion, I have hinted at how Museveni rewards loyalty and punishes dissenting

voices within the ruling party. It should be unsurprising that this is the same strategy he employs

to handle disagreements with top military officers who express independent views. Below I further

examine this issue.

Dealing with Dissent & Rewarding Loyal Military Cadres

Whereas the military has played a crucial role in Uganda’s post-conflict state reconstruction,

particularly in propping up the ruling regime and certain institutions of the state, the same military

occasionally puts these institutions under test. There is enough evidence to suggest the existence

of power struggles between the President and senior military officers who express views

considered unpleasant to the regime’s leader. In these situations, the President relies mainly on

three strategies to deal with critical military officers. First, he uses informal mechanisms like

katebe (non-deployment) to punish his critics inside the army. Given the relatively low salaries

earned by military officers, spending years un-deployed is deemed a punishment from the

Commander-in-Chief because it denies that army officer the lucrative financial benefits that come

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with military expeditions. Second, he uses formal institutions like the court martial to prosecute

critical army officers. When the regime is not sure of winning a case in court, the state engages in

tactics like the deliberate delay of court trials to frustrate officers hoping for a speedy trial. Third,

the president also engages in negotiations with army officers who have fallen out with him. He has

shown that he is willing to forgive officers if they ‘repent’ and seek his forgiveness. Such officers

are mostly sent for further training, to undergo some sort of rehabilitation, before being returned

into the fold. Therefore, the military elites understand that they have to deal with a powerful

president who wants nothing but the military under his armpits. This explains why military officers

show anxiety over the overreach of presidential power. Unlike parliament, which has proven

woefully inept at asserting its constitutional right to check the President’s overreach, the military

elites often use courts of law to challenge some of the President’s decisions. The concern stems

from the fact that the President can easily punish, demote or order the arrest of any military officer

suspected of wrongdoing. The legitimacy and independence of the court martial in such situations

is often questioned because it works at the whims of the Commander-in-Chief, who appoints and

dismisses at will individuals who constitute the court martial.

The battle between the regime and critical army officers like Maj. Gen. James Kazini, Lt. Gen.

Henry Tumukunde and Gen. David Sejusa shows that military officers do not expect justice in the

court martial, especially in cases that involve a disagreement with Museveni. They, however, show

more confidence in the civil courts. That’s why they are quick to appeal decisions of the court

martial in the High Court. The trial of Sejusa perfectly captures the lack of confidence in the court

martial by military officers. Prior to his dismissal from his role as the coordinator of intelligence

agencies in 2016, Sejusa was one of the most influential commanders in the UPDF. He had been

a formidable leader in the civil war that brought Museveni to power, held senior positions in the

army and sat on the UPDF High Command, the supreme decision-making body in the army. Gen.

Sejusa’s disagreement with Museveni became public in 1996, when he stunned the military

hierarchy by giving testimony before a parliamentary committee in which he castigated the

regime’s handling of the LRA insurgency in northern Uganda. Since Sejusa was the overall

commander of the counterinsurgency campaign against the LRA rebels, his testimony rattled the

regime and the military hierarchy. He was quickly summoned to the High Command for a dressing-

down. However, prior to his appearance, he wrote a surprise letter to Museveni requesting to resign

from the army. In his letter, he noted that

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I find it unjustified to continue serving in an institution whose bodies I have no

faith in or whose views I do not subscribe to...I know my own faults very well

and I do not suppose I am an easy subordinate; I like to go my own way. But you

have kept me on the rails in difficult and stormy times and have taught me much.

For all this, I am grateful.455

The President, however, rejected Sejusa’s retirement plans, telling reporters on December 17, 1996

that Sejusa cannot be allowed to retire because he still has “problems” to sort out.456 Although the

President did not specify which kind of problems he was referring to, several media outlets and

political analysts indicated that the regime had long suspected Sejusa of harboring secret political

ambitions.457 As one of the founding members of the NRA and one of its most gifted fighters

during the bush war, Sejusa had built a reputation that was rivalled by few inside the military. A

political contest between Museveni and Sejusa would come with serious ramifications for the

regime. Subsequently, the regime developed a strategy aimed at containing Sejusa’s political

ambitions. The strategy was simple: use any means possible, legal or illegal, to deny him retirement

from the army. For the outsiders, this seems counterintuitive, but for regime insiders, it was the

most rational political tactic of protecting the regime in power by blocking Sejusa from

participating in politics as serving soldiers are barred by the constitution from participating in

elective politics. However, the regime underestimated how far Sejusa was willing to go to force

his retirement from the army. In a twist of events, he filed a petition in the Constitutional Court

challenging the decision to deny him retirement. The court ruled in his favor and approved his

retirement, but the state then appealed to the Supreme Court, the highest court in the land and a

highly politicized institution. The President appoints its members and the court has become

synonymous with making controversial pro-regime decisions.458 The Supreme Court duly

overturned the decision of the Constitutional Court, concluding that Sejusa’s quest for retirement

from the army did not comply with formalities and procedures prescribed by the law.459

455 Gen. David Sejusa’s letter to Museveni. Available online: https://niyibizi.wordpress.com/2016/02/07/ (Accessed April 21, 2017) 456 Interview with Felix Kulayigye.ibid. 457 Daily Monitor (May 12, 2013) “Police Raid Tinyefunza’s Office” (May 12, 2013) Available online: http://www.monitor.co.ug/News/National/Military-police-raid-Gen--Tinyefuza-s-office/688334-1849240-view-printVersion-u6wd7rz/index.html(Accessed April 21, 2017) 458 Recently, Justice George Kanyeihamba, a retired member of the Uganda Supreme Court criticized his colleagues on the bench for changing their rulings after phone calls with the President in 2006 when they handled a petition challenging Museveni’s electoral victory. 459 The Eagle online (May 30, 2016) “Museveni vs Sejusa: the three-decade battle between Uganda’s two most prominent Generals.” Available online: http://eagle.co.ug/2016/05/30/museveni-vs-sejusa-three-decade-battle-ugandas-two-prominent-generals.html

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Sejusa was then placed on katebe (non-deployment) for more than ten years as punishment for his

bellicosity. During this period, press reports talked of prolonged negotiations involving senior

military officers who tried to reconcile the President with Sejusa. The result of this rapprochement

became public in 2004 when, in a surprise move, Sejusa apologized to Museveni publicly for the

1996 fallout. He claimed that he had been misled by certain forces and asked the President for

forgiveness because he had seen the “light”.460 Sejusa’s ‘sincere apology’ earned him the

temporary trust of the President, who later appointed him the Coordinator of National Intelligence

(CNI). By virtue of this position, Sejusa was placed at the forefront of processing sensitive

intelligence information about the regime’s enemies, internal and external. This explains why he

is now accused of having played a role in several controversial incidents like the arrest of

opposition figure Kiiza Besigye in 2005, the military raid on the High Court in 2005 and the closure

of independent media houses during the Buganda protests in 2010.

Sejusa kept a low profile between 2007 and 2012, though he was frequently cited by the press as

involved in patterns of manipulation and covert operations to influence the political trajectory in

favour of the regime. It was not until April 29, 2013, that he issued a letter containing bombshell

revelations that shocked the nation and sent shivers down the spine of top military elites.461 In the

letter, Sejusa pleaded with the director of ISO for a systematic investigation of allegations that top

officials, including the chief of police, plotted to either assassinate or frame their colleagues who

were perceived to be against the so-called ‘Muhoozi Project’.462 The project he was referring to

is an alleged plot by Museveni to have his son Muhoozi Kainerugaba succeed him as President.

Sejusa’s suggestion that Museveni’s son was being groomed to take over from his father was

bolstered by Kainerugaba’s meteoric rise through military ranks to become a two-star general and

the top commander of the Special Forces. Sejusa further alleged that those targeted for

assassination due to their opposition to the ‘Muhoozi Project’ included himself, then-Prime

Minister Amama Mbabazi and then-army chief Aronda Nyakairima. Those plotting the alleged

assassinations, he revealed, were Gen. Kayihura and other military officers he named by citing

initials such as Brig. MK, Gen. SS, one Kelle. He wrote that:

460 The Monitor (Feb 7, 2016) “David Sejusa–the Daring General.” Available online: http://allafrica.com/stories/201602081316.html 461 Gen. Sejusa’s full letter is available online: http://www.monitor.co.ug/News/National/Gen--Sejusa-s-letter/688334-1681866-2ejfglz/index.html (Accessed May 14, 2015) 462 Tom Rhodes (2013) “In Uganda, media muzzled over alleged Muhoozi project” Committee to Project Journalist. Available online: https://cpj.org/blog/2013/05/in-uganda-media-muzzled-over-alleged-muhoozi-proje.php (Accessed May 3, 2018)

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…..Intelligence has picked some clandestine actions by these reckless and rather

naïve actors to have some youth recruited as rebels and then frame some

members of security services and key politicians perceived as anti-

establishment.…You need to investigate the very serious claims that the same

actors are re-organising elements of former Wembley under one police officer

Ayegasire Nixon to assassinate people who disagree with this so-called family

project of holding onto power in perpetuity.463

Although many Ugandans have long suspected the existence of the ‘Muhoozi Project,’ Sejusa’s

revelation added a new twist because it was the first time Ugandans learnt that the succession

debate was generating serious anxieties inside the military. Afterwards, newspapers began to

publish daily headlines about the alleged assassination conspiracies and raise questions about the

safety of those seen as opposed to the project. The mysterious death of Gen. Nyakairima, less than

a year after Sejusa had written his controversial letter, raised more questions. Moreover, the speed

with which the regime’s backers publicized the cause of Nyakairima’s death even before a post-

mortem had been carried out, raised concerns which played out in the media, with many Ugandans

speculating about what, and who might have, killed Nyakairima.464 To curtail mass circulation of

the contents of Sejusa’s letter, the government launched a media crackdown and closed two

newspapers, The Daily Monitor and The Red Pepper, as well as two radio stations, KFM and

Dembe FM, for publishing contents of the resignation letter. Sejusa himself fled to exile in London.

A few months after arriving in the UK, he told journalists that Museveni had rigged the 2006

election. Indeed, he revealed that he was part of a high-level intelligence group created by

Museveni to rig the election to his favor. He argued that the official results this intelligence group

obtained showed that Museveni got only 30% of the total vote and the opposition candidate got

69%. According to Sejusa, the regime had then falsified the results to favor Museveni. However,

the ruling party has disputed this claim.465

463 Sejusa’s letter, ibid. pg26 464 The East African (September 19 2015) “Nyakairima’s death: Radio Katwe, Social Media Explode with Conspiracy Theories.” Available online at: http://www.theeastafrican.co.ke/news/What-really-killed-Gen-Aronda-/-/2558/2876782/-/99w04v/-/index.html (Accessed May 3, 2018) 465 African Review (December 17, 2013) “Exiled Ugandan General Says Museveni Stole 2006 Elections” (Available online: http://www.africareview.com/news/Exiled-Uganda-general-says-Museveni-stole-election/979180-2115434-10ah9y9/index.html (Accessed May 17, 2018)

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The most explosive of Sejusa’s revelations relates to how Museveni used armed security agencies

to deal with dissent both in the ruling party and in the army. For instance, Sejusa’s revelation

shows how the 2012 death of Cerinah Nebanda, a Ugandan lawmaker sparked bitter exchanges

between parliament on one side and the President and his intelligence apparatus on the other. The

state claims that Nebanda died of a drug overdose but her colleagues in parliament and her family

strongly believe that she was poisoned by state agents. The events leading up to Nebanda’s death

shed light on why many Ugandans still question the circumstances of her death. Following the

disputed 2011 presidential election, chaos broke out in Kampala and other districts of Uganda.

Besigye, Museveni’s main political challenger, disputed the election outcome, claiming that the

exercise had been massively rigged in favor of Museveni. Media reports of pre-ticked ballot

papers, voter buying, and falsification of results exacerbated fury among disenfranchised

Ugandans. Moreover, the ruling party spent colossal sums during campaigns for re-election,

sending inflation through the roof.466 Reports indicated that Museveni’s agents withdraw $340

million to this end from the national treasury, which forced the Central Bank to print more money

in order to pay civil servants’ salaries.467 This decision, which the head of the Central Bank later

regretted publicly, aggravated the inflationary crisis, sending prices of essential commodities

soaring.468 As anti-regime protests started to attract large numbers of people, the state response

was swift and ruthless. The police placed Besigye under house arrest to contain the momentum of

the protests. Over a dozen people were shot and killed (including a two-year-old child), hundreds

were arrested and imprisoned and Besigye himself was shot in the hand and nearly blinded when

security operatives in plainclothes emptied a canister of pepper spray directly into his face.469 He

had to be admitted at a hospital in Nairobi for medical treatment that lasted weeks.

A group of progressive lawmakers within the ruling party would not keep silent. Nebanda and

allies in parliament became fearless critics of the government’s cruelty and corruption. What was

upsetting to the regime is that it was faced with resistance on two fronts: a relentless opposition

466 Ajazeera “Uganda walk-to-work protests kick up dust” (April 28, 2011) Available online: http://www.aljazeera.com/indepth/features/2011/04/201142831330647345.html (Accessed December 17,2018) 467 Helen Epstein (2014) “Uganda: The General Challenges the Dictator” New York Review of Books. Available online: http://www.nybooks.com/articles/2014/04/24/uganda-general-challenges-dictator/ (Accessed December 17,2018) 468 Daily Monitor (November 13, 2014) “I was misled into funding 2011 polls, says Mutebile” Available online: http://www.monitor.co.ug/News/National/Mutebile--I-was-misled-into-funding-2011-polls/688334-2520350-12b53np/index.html(Accessed December 17,2018) 469 The Standard (April 14, 2016) “Uganda: Politician Kizza Besigye shot at protest” Available online: https://www.standardmedia.co.ke/business/article/2000033249/uganda-politician-kizza-besigye-shot-at-protest (Accessed May 10, 2018)

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party led by Besigye that was busy mobilizing people for street protests, and a progressive wing

of parliamentarians within the ruling party who were just as furious as the opposition about

government corruption. The internal discontent worried the regime even more than the opposition.

The President labelled vocal MPs ‘political rebels’ and unsuccessfully attempted to kick them out

of parliament. To make matters worse, Nebanda and her progressive colleagues began working on

a bill to prevent oil revenues from falling into the hands of corrupt bureaucrats. In fact, she died a

day after she had a public spat with the President. As a legislator, she had been vocal, courageous,

fearless and outstanding. She stood a few meters from the President, openly criticized the

government’s oil bill and accused Museveni of employing dictatorial tactics to push lawmakers

into approving the oil bill when they knew nothing about the contents of the contracts Museveni

had signed with foreign oil companies. As one lawmaker explains that “she would confront

everybody, including the President, if she was convinced that the position they took was not in the

interest of the people.”470

Her mysterious death sparked a tit-for-tat exchange between parliament, the President and various

security organs. First, security operatives at Entebbe International Airport arrested a pathologist

named Sylvester Onzivua, who was hired by parliament and the deceased’s family to fly body

samples to a South African laboratory for toxicology tests. The samples were grabbed from him.

The police initially denied Onzivua’s arrest but after crosschecking with other security organs

admitted that he was under detention. When parliamentarians sought to set up a commission to

investigate her death, the MPs that were behind this initiative were themselves arrested and spent

weeks in jail. The arrest of the MPs angered the parliamentary speaker, who went public with her

criticism of the conduct of the security organs and publicly rejected the autopsy and toxicology

report produced by the government, which tried to link Nebanda’s death to a narcotic drug.471 The

Speaker’s reaction angered the President, who immediately ordered the state’s investigative

officers to interrogate her, too. Museveni then summoned the Speaker to his official residence and

told her that a special parliamentary inquiry she was trying to create to investigate Nebanda’s death

would only happen “over my dead body”.472 Throughout these meetings, the President continued

470 See, for example an Interview with Hon. Chris Baryomunsi, a Member of Parliament for Kinkizi East, as published by NRW media. The transcript of this interview is available online at https://www.rnw.org/archive/what-or-who-killed-ugandan-mp-cerinah-nebanda (Accessed May 10, 2018) 471 Daily Monitor (December 27, 2012) “MPs Side with Kadaga Over Nebanda death” Available online: http://www.monitor.co.ug/News/National/MPs-side-with-Kadaga-over-Nebanda-death/688334-1651932-g1om8ez/index.html (Accessed May 20, 2018) 472 Helen, Esptein (2016) Ibid

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to deny that his government was responsible for Nebanda’s death.473 This, however, did not stop

the wave of conspiracy theories alleging the government’s hand in her death or the government’s

efforts to fight back.474 Nebanda’s father surprised mourners when he alleged that some people

identifying themselves as journalists from the state-controlled New Vision newspaper had

promised him a reward if he approved a story saying that his daughter had died of a “heart

attack.”475

Sejusa, who was the coordinator of the intelligence agencies when Nebanda died has now claimed

to know the people who planned and executed Nebanda’s death. He alleges that those who killed

her intended to send signals to the progressive wing of the ruling party about the consequences of

opposing Museveni. Her death, he claims, was deliberately planned and executed on “orders from

above.”476 He claimed that:

There was a movement of elimination. A meeting was held in State House [the

president’s official residence] in September 2012 involving key family

members. Museveni himself was there, as well as First Lady Janet Museveni,

Museveni’s then-thirty-eight-year-old son Muhoozi Kainerugaba, Museveni’s

half-brother Salim Saleh, and various in-laws.477

Sejusa did not himself attend the meeting but as the coordinator of national intelligence agencies,

he claims to have accessed confidential information about this meeting through his personal

networks. Museveni’s relatives, he says, were furious about the President’s failure to contain

internal dissent within the ruling party. He explains:

Nebanda was part of a fearless emerging force who were speaking about things

that [Museveni’s family felt] should not be talked about—especially the

corruption of the first family and the prime minister. They were also punching

holes in the myth that Museveni himself was innocent, and that only those

working for him were corrupt.478

473 President Museveni’s statement on Nebanda’s death. Available online; http://www.newvision.co.ug/new_vision/news/1311840/president-museveni-address-nebandas-death (December 17, 2018) 474 Interview with Hon. Mwijukye Francies.ibid. 475 Speech by Nebanda’s father to mourners. 476 Sejusa’s letter, Ibid 477 Helen Esptein (2016) Ibid 478 Helen Esptein (2016) Ibid

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Museveni’s response, according to Sejusa, was that: “You go and do what you think.” To which

one of the family members responded, “Don’t worry Mzee (Old Man), we know what to do.”479

Sejusa’s revelations about the inner workings of the state forced the government to send emissaries

to the UK to engage in negotiations with the runaway general. It was, therefore, not surprising

when Sejusa made a return into the country on December 14, 2014. However, what surprised many

Ugandans is the manner in which he was received with full military honors by the ISO chief, Brig.

Ronnie Balya, and other military officers. A few days later, Museveni told journalists that he

personally handled the general’s situation. He said he had to make sure information about Sejusa’s

possible return remained a secret between him and the three emissaries he sent to meet the general

in the UK.”480 Not long after, the President asked Gen. Elly Tumwine to plan a meeting between

himself and Sejusa. This meeting between Museveni and Sejusa took place on January 3, 2015.

Although the President had promised to approve Sejusa’s retirement from the army, Sejusa’s name

did not appear on the list of army officers who were retired in 2015. In response, Sejusa petitioned

court again and the High Court ruled that he had been constructively discharged from the army

because he no longer received a salary or benefits from the army and had not been deployed for

many years. The judge noted that, unless the state simply wanted to keep Sejusa captive in the

military, he should be retired with immediate effect.481 The army has since appealed the ruling in

the Court of Appeal, which is yet to schedule a hearing.

The case of Sejusa, as examined above, shows how Museveni sometimes finds himself trapped

between a rock and a hard place when it comes to handling ‘errant’ leaders of security institutions.

Because of the sensitive nature of their work, the individuals running security agencies get

engrossed in the internal secrets of the regime to the extent that when they disagree with the

President, he finds himself facing two difficult choices. He either must purge these officials, a

high-handed approach that often includes jailing them, or take a soft approach that, in most cases,

involves preventing them from retiring. The problem for Museveni is that both approaches have

serious ramifications and have proved counterproductive in some situations. For instance, arrests

479 Helen Esptein (2016), Ibid 480 New Vision “Museveni Meets gen. Sejusa” (January 3rd, 2015) Available online: http://www.newvision.co.ug/new_vision/news/1318440/president-museveni-meets-gen-sejusa 481 Daily Monitor (May 28th 2016) Available “Gen Sejusa is No longer a UPDF officer, High Court Rules” online: http://www.monitor.co.ug/News/National/Sejusa-is-no-longer-a-UPDF-officer-court-rules/688334-3222816-ggd1vpz/index.html (Accessed March 23, 2018)

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and prosecutions by the court martial create unnecessary discontent within the high echelons of

the army that in itself threatens the regime. There have been cases of military officers publicly

questioning the merits of court cases involving their colleagues. Other officials have successfully

lobbied the President to release colleagues placed under house arrest. Equally important, the court

martial has come under pressure both from within and outside the army, with many Ugandans

questioning most of its rulings. In fact, there have been many instances when the High Court and

the Supreme Court have reversed the decisions of the court martial. For instance, when former ISO

chief Lt. Gen. Tumukunde fell out with Museveni in 2005 after he opposed the lifting of

presidential term limits from the constitution, he was fired from ISO and lost his seat as a legislator

representing the army. Subsequently, he was arrested, prosecuted in the court martial and placed

under house arrest for two years. The court martial trial took eight years to rule on his case. When

the court martial made its decision, it did not make sense. For instance, athough Tumukunde had

been accused by the state of engaging in serious crimes, the court martial dismissed charges of

spreading harmful propaganda and instead ruled that he was guilty of a lesser charge of conduct

prejudicial to the good conduct and discipline of the army. He was sentenced to a ‘serious warning’

and then freed.482 Later, Tumukunde took his case to the Supreme Court, which ruled that he had

been illegally dismissed from parliament.483

The case of Sejusa and events that followed Nebanda’s death, as examined in detail above, reveal

the impirical intricacies of power in a hybrid system in which the regime relies on both political

plurality and some degree of military oppression for survival. First, the military may be a strong

actor in the political system, but its actions also reveal an institution that is itself constrained by

the political system in which it is deeply embedded and of which it is a part. Second, whereas the

President retains unrivalled power, some military officials have not been afraid to challenge his

authority through both formal and informal institutions. For instance, when the President publicly

called for the court-martial of Col. Dr. Besigye after he criticized the military, Besigye quickly

mobilized elders’ councils from his home district who protested his impending trial and convinced

the President to drop the idea, which again demonstrates the power of these social elites. Thus,

482 Daily Monitor (April 18, 2013) “Brig. Tumukunde Sentenced to Serious Warning” Available online at http://www.monitor.co.ug/News/National/Brig--Tumukunde-sentenced-to-serious-warning/688334-1751938-j0hmlwz/index.html (accessed June 20, 2017) 483 Daily Monitor (September 1, 2015) “Tumukunde Promoted, then Retired.” (Available online at http://www.monitor.co.ug/News/National/Brig-Tumukunde-promoted--then-retired/688334-2854028-k7slfyz/index.html(Accessed June 20, 2017)

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unlike parliament, which often serves as a rubber stamp for the regime, the military appears

interested in having effective institutions like courts of law because it is through such institutions

that military officials, afraid of Museveni’s power grabs, can challenge those decisions that they

deem unfair. However, the success of this approach is limited because of the influence of the

regime on every state institution in Uganda, including the judiciary.

Embodied in the controversies explored above is a power struggle between the regime leader and

the institutions of the state. Although parliament is too weak to effectively challenge the regime

leader, we see also the progressive wing of the party and some courts of law willing to fight for

the right to exercise their authority. Equally important, the regime leader is seen trying to use the

military to assert his influence over other institutions of the state. Museveni’s actions show his fear

that if state institutions grow strong and independent, they might challenge his hold on power.

Thus, to get his will done, he often resorts to issuing threats to both the courts and parliament,

specifically warning them of certain decisions that, he argues, could lead to the collapse of the

state or decisions that could force him to sanction a military intervention.

What has emerged with the Museveni regime are two contradictory tendencies: on the one hand

Museveni sees the military as a key ingredient to stability and power, and a measure of his ability

to defend his regime from its enemies. He sees stability as founded on a military institution which

is blindly loyal to him and which will accept his decisions, irrespective of whether or not they are

lawful or legitimate. On the other hand, is the impulse of a military institution keen to develop

professional norms and process as a foundation for peace and stability. This explains why some

army officers are willing to go to court to challenge controversial decisions taken by the regime

leader. Amidst such challenges, the regime leader is often able to make manoeuvres that, taken

together, help him to cement his control of the army. One such manoeuvre has been creating

multiple auxiliary military units, stuffing them with individuals who show blind loyalty to the

regime, providing them with sufficient resources and then deploying them on important missions

that are political in nature. Below I examine how such military units have intervened in politics to

the benefit of the regime.

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The Military and Politics

While Museveni easily won the 1996 and 2001 general elections, he was forced into prolonged

election battles with Besigye, the opposition leader, in 2006, 2011 and 2016. Besigye’s charisma,

bravery and ability to challenge the regime’s repressive tactics attracted millions of people to his

political camp. Many Ugandans who had thought of a Museveni loss as improbable in 2001 were,

by 2006, seeing the possibility of a post-Museveni era. One of the reasons the 1996 and 2001

elections were easy wins for Museveni is that Uganda was under a single-party system. Museveni

had banned all other political parties from operating, arguing that they were responsible for

ravaging the country with “sectarian politics.”484 In addition, those were early days of Museveni’s

rule when he was still very popular after periods of bloodshed and misrule. As Museveni continued

to entrench his one-party rule, pressure was mounting from both internal and external actors,

particularly donor groups, to open up space for other political parties to organize and participate

in the political process. In 2000, a referendum on a possible return to multiparty politics was

organized.485 It asked Ugandans to choose the existing one-party system or a multiparty system.

Many Ugandans were not informed about this referendum and a significant number boycotted the

exercise. Nonetheless, the outcome signalled that Ugandans wanted to be ruled under a multi-

party system. Hence, the 2006 election was the first electoral exercise since 1980 in which a range

of political parties could contest presidential and local council polls.

For the military, which had for long operated only under a one-party system, the first multiparty

elections provided a litmus test of their political neutrality. The move by the President in 2005 to

amend the constitution and remove term limits created tensions in the ruling party as well as in the

military. Some former members of the President’s core coalition who opposed the constitutional

amendments broke away from the ruling party and formed a pressure group called the

Parliamentary Advocacy Forum (PAFO). When the space for political parties was opened, this

group quickly coalesced around the Reform Agenda (RA), another pressure group formed by

Besigye, who ran against Museveni in 2001 but disputed the election outcome, citing massive

rigging. Besigye fled into exile in South Africa after 2001, claiming that his life was in danger. In

2005, PAFO and RA merged to form a new political party, the Forum for Democratic Change

484 Samwiri R. Karugire. (1988.ibid. 94. 485 Yusufu Kiranda and Mathias Kamp (2010) “The State of Multiparty Democracy in Uganda” Konrad Adnauer Stiftung. Available online: http://www.kas.de/wf/doc/kas_21611-1522-2-30.pdf?110113145556 (Acssed May 20, 2018).

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(FDC). Besigye, still in exile in South Africa, then was elected the FDC’s presidential flagbearer

to contest against Museveni and returned to Uganda.

His return created excitement among those Ugandans who wanted to witness a transfer of power

from Museveni. When Besigye launched a country-wide consultative tour that attracted thousands

of people, many of whom thronged streets and roadsides to listen to his message in the towns he

visited, hopes were raised for those Ugandans who wanted to see the exit of Museveni. Inside the

regime, there were concerns over the threat posed by Besigye. He was considered a formidable

challenger to Museveni because he had established a reputation in his political and military careers.

Besigye had served as the commander of the influential mechanized brigade and had been the chief

of logistics and engineering in the army. During the guerrilla war, he served as Museveni’s

personal doctor and was given a ministerial post in the NRA’s first government, and he served also

as the national political commissar.

To contain the threat posed by Besigye, Museveni turned to the institution in which he commanded

significant loyalty: the military. He employed the army’s vast intelligence resources to counter

Besigye. A shadowy rebel group called the People’s Redemption Army was created.486 The regime

and its military intelligence spent money and resources constructing a narrative that Besigye was

the founder and the commander of this group, which was said to be operating in the rainforests of

eastern Congo.487 There was little credible evidence to suggest that such a rebel group existed and,

if it did, that it was connected to Besigye.488 Later, Besigye was arrested in October 2005 and

dragged before a court martial to be charged with treason, a crime punishable by death as per

Ugandan laws. Following Besigye’s arrest, police chief Kayihura told the media that the state had

"collected evidence linking Besigye to the People's Redemption Army, which is being organized

to overthrow the government of Uganda.”489 The state also charged Besigye with treason and rape

in the High Court, alleging that he raped the house help twice over the years. Besigye’s lawyers

486 Gloppen, Siri et al. (2006) “The Evolving Role of the Courts in the Political Transition Process.” A report by The Chr. Michelsens Institutt for Videnskap og Åndsfrihet. Available online: https://www.cmi.no/pdf/?file=/uganda/doc/gloppen-kazimbazi-kibandama-courts-political%20transition-research-note-Jan-06.pdf (accessed May 20, 2017) 487 Day, R. Christopher (2011) “The Fates of Rebels: Insurgencies in Uganda.” Comparative Politics, vol. 43, p. 439–458 488 Akaki Sam (2007) “Is the People's Redemption Army a Benevolent Rebel Group?” October 20th. All Africa.com. Available online: https://allafrica.com/stories/200710220548.html (accessed May 20, 2017) 489 CNN (November 25, 2005 ) “Treason Case pressed at Summit” Available online: http://www.cnn.com/2005/world/africa/11/25/uganda.treason/= (accessed May 20, 2017)

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argued in turn that the government had fabricated the charges to keep Besigye from challenging

Museveni.

The state, however, made a technical mistake when it charged Besigye with the same crime in both

the High Court and the court martial. Given that Uganda’s judiciary had expressed a willingness

to protect its independence from an overreaching executive, it seems that the state thought its

interests would be served better if Besigye’s case was handled by the court martial. For Besigye’s

lawyers, the first battle was to challenge the authority of the court martial to try a man, who had

retired from the army in 2001. By a unanimous decision, the Constitutional Court ruled that he

could not be tried by the court martial because, as a retired military officer, he was a civilian.

After the court-martial trial was halted, the High Court granted bail to Besigye and his 14 co-

accused. However, before they could leave the court’s precincts, a group of heavily armed military

men stormed the court like commandoes in a Hollywood movie to arrest the suspects. Fearing for

their safety in the custody of these armed men, the suspects chose not to sign bail papers so as to

return to a civil prison instead. It later emerged that this thuggish military unit was an auxiliary

outfit of the Chieftaincy of Military Intelligence called ‘Black Mambas Urban Hit Squad’.490 The

government defended the military raid of the High Court, claiming that the state needed to re-arrest

the suspects so that they could be taken to the court martial to face fresh charges. Uganda’s then-

Principle Judge James Ogoola described this incident as "a despicable act" and a "rape" of the

High Court that was reminiscent of the days of Idi Amin.491

Basing their decision on the conduct of the state toward the suspects and the judiciary,

the judges of the Constitutional Court declared Besigye not guilty in any of the charges

the state had slapped against him. In their ruling, the judges unanimously noted that:

This court cannot sanction any continued prosecution of the petitioners where

during the proceedings, the human rights of the petitioners have been violated.

No matter how strong the evidence against them may be, no fair trial can be

490 BBC (March 5, 2007) Available “Uganda's judges strike over raid” online: http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/africa/6418943.stm (Accessed August 20,2018) 491 Rachel L. Ellett (2008) “Emerging Judicial Power in Transitional Democracies: Malawi, Tanzania and Uganda” PhD dissertation, PhD dissertation, Northeastern University Boston, Ma. Available online: https://repository.library.northeastern.edu/files/neu:1885/fulltext.pdf (Accessed September 25, 2017)

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achieved, and any subsequent trials would be a waste of time and an abuse of

court process.492

The state, however, continued to prosecute Besigye of rape, a charge Besigye and his lawyers

claim was fabricated to tarnish his reputation in order to stop him from challenging Museveni, in

an election in which he was considered Museveni’s most formidable rival. In the end, the state

lost this case, too, when a Uganda High Court ruled that the state ‘dismally’ failed to produce any

evidence and that the manner of the investigations were "crude and amateurish, betraying the

motives behind the case".493 In his ruling, High Court Judge, John Bosco Katutsi commented that

he found that:

……[t]he evidence before this court is inadequate even to prove a debt -

impotent to deprive of a civil right - ridiculous for convicting of the pettiest

offence - scandalous if brought forward to support a charge of any grave

character - monstrous if to ruin the honour of a man who offered himself as a

candidate for the highest office of this country.494

The (2006, 2011) Elections and the Walk-to-Work Protests

The post-election Walk-to-Work protests of 2011 provide us with yet another way to examine the

growing role played by the military in the protecting the Museveni regime. Following the 2011

election, protests broke out in Kampala and in other towns challenging Museveni’s victory. The

response from the security organs was swift. A campaign of harassment and intimidation followed

in which many opposition politicians and their supporters were arrested and detained in several

detention centers around the country. Besigye was again arrested several times and charged with

various crimes, including organizing illegal rallies. Fearing that it could turn into an Egyptian-

style protest, security forces employed heavy force to crack down on protesters, killing dozens and

maiming others. Many officials interviewed for this research say security organs like CMI, ISO,

ESO and SFC were influential in nipping this political uprising in the bud by employing

492 New Vision (October 12, 2010) “Col. Besigye Treason Case Dismissed.” Available online: https://www.newvision.co.ug/new_vision/news/1280940/col-besigye-treason-dismissed (Accessed September 25, 2017) 493 The Guardian (March 8, 2006) “Uganda’s Chief Opposition Leader Cleared of Rape” Available online: https://www.theguardian.com/world/2006/mar/08/uganda.mainsection (Accessed January 28, 2018) 494 Judge John Bosco Katutsi’s ruling is available online: The judgment is available at www.judicature.go.ug/uploaded_ les/1142236737Besigye-rape%20case-Judgement.pdf (Accessed January 28, 2018)

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extraconstitutional measures.495 Armed officers from top military and intelligence organs such as

CMI, ISO, ESO and SFC moved from place to place without identification and in civilian clothes,

arrested several individuals without telling them the reason for their arrest. They forced suspects

into unmarked cars, blindfolded them and took them to CMI headquarters in Kitante, where they

were tortured to reveal plans for demonstrations against the regime.496

It is quite ironic that Museveni, who castigated previous Ugandan regimes for using the military

to intimidate opponents, has ended up falling into the same trap. To his credit, the military stayed

on the political periphery during the first decade of his regime. However, as Museveni began to

face mounting political challenges, in the second decade of his rule, he became more reliant on

brute force to stem those challenges. It was during the 2001 election that Ugandans came to see

the full force of the regime’s coercive apparatus. Although it was clear that Museveni would win

the election, security organs did not like seeing the regime leader endure a prolonged and stressful

political challenge.497 They intervened, not necessarily to eliminate the tiny opposition, but rather

to disrupt their activities. And this happened only in areas where the anti-Museveni group appeared

to have an advantage. Many opposition supporters were arrested, though some were released

without charge, justifying fears that such actions were simply intended to intimidate. The same

pattern was observed within the military too. Internally, retired military officers were put under

pressure not to support opposition candidates. Those who resisted this informal order would get

arrested on flimsy charges or would have their retirement benefits cancelled. For instance, Maj.

Rwaboni Okwiri, a retired army officer and head of the youth desk at the Reform Agenda, was on

February 20, 2001, violently detained following a stand-off at Entebbe International Airport that

lasted over four hours.498 He was beaten and carried away by soldiers in civilian attire who threw

him onto a police pick-up truck, hit and injured his ribs with rifle butts, and sat on him as they sped

off from the airport to the headquarters of the CMI. While at CMI, Okwiri was stripped and

interrogated for six hours by military intelligence officers who wanted to know the internal

political dynamics of the opposition and their source of funds. The next day, Okwiri was released

without being charged, but only after he had publicly read a statement withdrawing from

opposition politics under the watchful eye of armed military officers. Other campaign officials on

495 Interview with Ladislaus Rwakafuzi.ibid. 496 Interview with Ingrid Turinawe, one of the organizers of the walk-to-work protests (September 4, 2016) 497 Interview with Francis Mwijukye.ibid. 498 Chimpreports (June 8, 2015) “Inside Maj Rabwoni Arrest at Entebbe Airport” Available online: http://www.chimpreports.com/inside-maj-rabwoni-arrest-at-entebbe-airport/(Accessed January 28, 2018)

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Besigye’s team were also arrested by the army and subjected to torture. They included: Hajji

Ramathan Ramathan Muwonge and his son Siraje Wamara, Kaamu Benjamin, Zulaika Manyojo,

Florence Mirembe Kitenda, and Godfrey Nsubuga. Others were John Olaka from Aswa County

who was arrested by the military on December 13, 2000, while holding a meeting of local

people.499 William Mukaira, the FDC chairman for Bushenyi District in western Uganda, and Dr.

Aggery Byamaka were also arrested and detained by the military on charges of treason. Whereas

the level of violence in 2001 was lower than it would be in 2006, it still resulted in the death of

several Ugandans, including two opposition agents killed on January 21, 2001, by the military in

Mbale.500 Later, a parliamentary inquiry in its 20002 report faulted the military for instigating

election violence.501

In 2006, the military escalated its interference in the elections. In one incident, Lt. Ramathan

Magara, a military officer, shot at supporters of Besigye at an election rally in Kampala, killing

two people and permanently maiming two others.502 Apart from intimidation, harassment and

coercion, military officers regularly engaged in direct political campaigns. They were regularly

seen in public soliciting votes for Museveni and issuing unnecessary warnings intended to frighten

Ugandans against voting for the opposition. For instance, in 2001, Lt. Gen. Tumukunde flew with

a helicopter to Besigye’s home district of Rukungiri to warn residents there against voting for

Besigye.503 As already noted, Tumukunde’s wife is a cousin to First Lady Janet Museveni. In

Rukungiri, Tumukunde told residents that he would not salute Besigye if he was elected President.

Such a statement by a serving army officer was not only against the military code of conduct, it

was also in violation of the constitution that he swore to protect and defend.504 But, one officer

after another, they continued to issue politically-charged warnings in the heat of presidential

elections. For instance, ahead of the 2011 election, then-army chief Gen. Nyakairima, warned that

the military would “move decisively” against groups planning protests over Museveni’s victory.

He noted that the army was not ready to accept “bad characters” to take over power from

Museveni505. His warning followed that of the First Son, Special Forces Commander Muhoozi

499 Kobusigye Olive, (2010) The Correct Line? Uganda Under Museveni Author House, UK 500 Olive Kobusigye Ibid pg 35 501 New Vision, May 27, 2002: 1. 502 Daily Monitor “Three Killed at Besigye’s Meet” Febuary (16, 2006) Available online: http://allafrica.com/stories/200602150824.html (Accessed June 8, 2018) 503 Olive Kobusingye, Ibid, pg 34 504 The UPDF Act 2005 505 Gerald Bareebe and Kristof Titeca (2013) “Personalization of Power under the Museveni Regime in Uganda” L'Afrique des Grands Lacs, Annuaire, Paris, France

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Kainerugaba, who was quoted in the government-owned New Vision newspaper as saying that the

full force of the military would be directed at opposition groups that, he claimed, planned to

“destabilise the country during the polls.”506 Such politically charged statements by serving

officers are in contravention of Uganda’s constitution, which prohibits the army from engaging in

partisan politics or supporting one party against the other. But the regime tolerates these statements

as long as they are in support of the status quo. In fact, army officers who regularly make public

statements supporting Museveni are rewarded with promotions or sent on assignments that are

financially lucrative as a way of commending their commitment to defend the regime’s interests.

That’s why Uganda now has a military institution that prides itself in interfering on electoral

politics. In an interview with the UPDF’s political commissar, he argued that the army’s

participation in politics dovetails with the NRA/M ideology of politically skilling its soldiers. He

noted that:

In the previous regimes, you had the army rejecting decisions taken by

politicians. For us we agreed that: let’s have the army take part in making these

decisions. The army cannot oppose the decisions for which it has taken part in

making. This has worked well for us and, we think, that’s our model for

stability.507

Whereas it is correct to argue that the strategy of intimidation and harassment is

essentially employed by the regime to target opposition groups, the President also uses

the same strategy to enforce compliance and cohesion within his own party. For instance,

when his party descended into a political crisis in 2013 sparked by internal dissent against

the executive, the President threatened a military takeover in case the ruling party

degenerated into “confusion.”508 The President was enraged by an assertive parliament

that was investigating an oil bribery scandal involving core members of his leadership

team. Soon, then-army chief Gen. Aronda Nyakairima issued a warning to lawmakers,

cautioning them that “the military cannot allow bad politics” to take Uganda back into

506 Byenkya, A., (2011) “Kampala: New Vision, Feb. 5, 2011 Army to work with police to quell poll violence – Muhoozi 507 Interview with Felix Kulayigye ibid. 508 Daily Monitor (January 18, 2013) “Museveni tells MPs: Army can Take over.” Available online: http://www.monitor.co.ug/News/National/Museveni-tells-MPs--Army-can-take-over/688334-1668782-i1kjtj/index.html ( Accessed June 8, 2018)

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turmoil.509 His warning was quickly followed by another from then-Defence Minister

Crispus Kiyonga, who said:

If the military feels the country is in the hands of wrong politicians, some

officers might be forced to intervene in the name of refocusing the country’s

future.510

Although many Ugandans have grown accustomed to the threats of military takeovers, what is

ironic in this case is that it is a sitting minister threatening a coup, which explains why some

Ugandans considered the threat as a strategy of intimidation aimed at frightening the regime’s

political opponents. However, given Uganda’s troubled history, a takeover by the military cannot

be entirely dismissed. In any event, the military indicated later that it considered the message by

the defence officials to be a deliberate signal from the President and that it “was well taken.”511

Confronting the “Residue” Social Structure: The 2009 Buganda Protests

The Buganda protests of 2009 give us an additional demonstration of the influential role the

military plays in safeguarding the Museveni regime and how it has been used to confront the

influence of the “residue” social structure. As already mentioned, after capturing power in 1986,

Museveni had promised to restore the traditional kingdoms, which had been outlawed under the

Obote regime. However, reinstating traditional institutions meant that Museveni had to navigate

the challenge of reconciling the aspirations of kingdoms with those of modern state institutions.

The Buganda kingdom, Uganda’s largest and wealthiest traditional institution, and its subjects

were Museveni’s strongest ally and Museveni rewarded them by agreeing to the restoration of the

Buganda monarchy in 1993 and the coronation of its Kabaka (king). No sooner had the government

restored the Buganda Kingdom, however, than ties between the two parties turned sour. The

509 Daily monitor (January 24th 2013) “Aronda says Army Takeover is possible” Available online: http://www.monitor.co.ug/News/National/Aronda-says-army-takeover-possible/688334-1673856-11mfejrz/index.html ( Accessed June 8, 2018) 510 Daily Monitor (January 20, 2013) “Don’t tempt the Army-Kiyongo.” January 20, 2013) Available: http://www.monitor.co.ug/News/National/Don-t-tempt-the-army---Kiyonga/688334-1669654-14jonv/index.html Also see: “Museveni tells MPs: Army can Takeover” (January 18, 2013) Available online: http://www.monitor.co.ug/News/National/Museveni-tells-MPs--Army-can-take-over/688334-1668782-i1kjtj/index.html (Accessed June 8, 2018) 511 Charles Onyango-Obbo “Military coup? In Uganda? That’s a tautology, surely.” The East African (January 26, 2013) Available online: http://www.theeastafrican.co.ke/OpEd/comment/Military-coup-In-Uganda-That-is-a-tautology/434750-1675782-k86ihe/index.html

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kingdom issued a list of demands to the central government, including a demand for far-reaching

autonomy in form of a federal system, the return of 9,000 square miles of land occupied by the

central government and the removal of government’s local administrative units from the

kingdom’s properties.512The decentralization process which started in the early 1980s and

continued throughout the late 1990s exacerbated tensions between the central government and

Buganda kingdom. Under this program, government created many districts, but Kingdom officials

complained that dividing their kingdom into districts was part of a ‘divide and rule’ strategy meant

to divide Baganda people and prevent them from acting as a unit.513

On September 10, 2009, the battle of wills between the Buganda kingdom and President Museveni

spilled over into the streets, creating deadly clashes between the Kabaka’s (King) subjects and

security forces. The protests began in response to a government’s decision to prevent the Kabaka

from visiting Kayunga district. Although the district is part of Buganda Kingdom, it is occupied

by the Banyara, a small sub-ethnic group, which has long demanded autonomy from the Buganda

Kingdom. Already, Kingdom officials were accusing the government of supporting the Banyara

to break away from the Kingdom so as to weaken the power and influence of Buganda. Despite

protests from the Buganda kingdom officials, the government supported the decision taken by

Banyara elders in 2008 to install their own kingdom. Thereafter, government provided the new

king with the same perks enjoyed by existing kings, which further angered Buganda Kingdom.

To undermine the Banyara secession movement, Buganda kingdom organized a visit of the Kabaka

to Kayunga. However, the government opposed the Kabaka’s visit contending that he should first

seek consent from Banyara elders. For Baganda monarchists, this was seen as ‘slap in the face’ by

the government. The Kingdom officials insisted that the Kabaka had a right to visit every part of

his kingdom without seeking consent from any individual or a group of individuals.514 A stand-off

between the government and Buganda kingdom ensued, with many Baganda royalists blaming the

crisis on Museveni, who they accused of employing a divide-and-rule policy.515 When an advance

team of kingdom officials tried to enter Kayunga in preparation for the Kabaka’s visit, they were

blocked from reaching Kayunga by a combined team of police and military intelligence.

512 International Crisis Group report (2012) “No resolution to growing crisis” Brussels: African Report No. 187 (Accessed January 20, 2016). 513 Kayunga, S. Simba (2000) “The Federo (federalism) debate in Uganda” (Working Paper No. 62) Kampala: Centre for Basic Research. p. 28 514 Human Rights Watch, (2010) “World Report 2010: Uganda”, Published by Human rights watch, available online www.hrw.org/world-report-2011/Uganda (Accessed January 20, 2016). 515 Interview with Hon. Muwanga Kivumbi, Ibid.

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More than any other king in Uganda, the Kabaka of Buganda commands unmatched loyalty from

his subjects and runs his kingdom like ‘a state within a state’.516When news begun spreading that

kingdom officials had been intercepted by security, spontaneous protests broke out in Kampala

and other towns in Buganda. The intensity and spread of the protests forced the state to employ a

combined force, consisting of the Special Forces, the regular army and the police. They responded

with indiscriminate force, killing over 40 people, injuring 100 and arresting 560.517 Television

footage showed lifeless bodies abandoned on the streets as the Special Forces, commanded by first

son Kainerugaba, deployed some of the most sophisticated assault rifles in their possession. The

government imposed a media blackout and issued a gagging order prohibiting radio and television

stations from covering the protests. Those that failed to heed the gagging order were closed,

including CBS, which is owned by Buganda Kingdom.518

After the protests had been quelled, many Ugandans expressed outrage over the brutal killing of

civilians by security forces and called for an investigation into the conduct of security officers

during the protests. The police had initially promised to investigate the deaths but later said that

such an investigation could not happen because they lacked the mandate to investigate other

security organs that may have been responsible for the killings. The parliamentary speaker tasked

the committee on defence and internal affairs to investigate and produce a report in two weeks, but

MPs on the committee were blocked by the regime from visiting the affected areas. As one MP

explains:

The state doesn’t want people to know what happened. And I am sure we will

never know how such a large number of people were killed in just two days of

protests…. I can assure you that the death toll is even higher. It is hard to know

the truth because the media was blocked from reporting on the protests and radio

stations were closed.519

516 Golooba-Mutebi Fredrick (2011) “Settling the Buganda Question” Indiana University Press, Hutchins Center for African and African American. Transition, No. 106.P.10-25 517 Human Rights Watch 2010 report 518 Human Rights Watch. Ibid. 519 Interview with Hon. Muwanga Kivumbi.ibid.

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Confrontation the “Residue” Social Structure: The Rwenzori Crisis and the 2016

Elections

The events that followed the 2016 election demonstrate Museveni’s willingness to employ the

military and other coercive forces to punish punish elites in the “residue” social structure who

question his legitimacy as well as those who are hostile to his rule. The “Kasese Massacre” that

followed the 2016 election left many Ugandans and international observers shocked at the degree

of “extrajudicial executions” carried out by security agencies to punish the regime’s supposed foes.

Like Buganda, the Rwenzururu Kingdom, located in the western part of the country near the border

with the Democratic Republic of Congo, has had longstanding disputes with the central

government, some dating as far back as 1960s.520

In the early 1990s, Museveni made a decision to restore the country’s kingdoms. However, this

inevitably raised the problems of tribes and tribal identity in most parts of the country. Whereas

the government was quick to restore other kingdoms, the President was hesitant to accept the

restoration of the Rwenzururu Kingdom. This is partly because of this kingdom’s history of ethnic

nationalism. Historically, the traditional leaders of Rwenzururu kingdom are revered by their

subjects as both political leaders and cultural heads. Given the geographical location of

Rwenzururu Kingdom in an already restive part of the country, Museveni feared that restoring its

political status could prove counterproductive to Uganda’s political stability and national unity.

However, facing intense pressure from Rwenzururu monarchists to restore their kingdom,

Museveni allowed the creation of a steering committee for the restoration of the kingdom in March

1999. But even after the formation of this committee, he continued to drag his feet. Powerful

politicians within the ruling party, specifically individuals like former Defence Minister Crispus

Kiyonga were against the restoration of the kingdom. The 2006 election saw Museveni and his

party perform poorly in the Rwenzori region, while the opposition made gains. Museveni blamed

this poor performance on the ‘kingdom question’ and finally promised to consider a full restoration

of the monarchy. Consequently, on August 30, 2009, he lifted his objection to the restoration of

520 Shahuka-Muhundo and Kristof Titeca (2016) “The Rwenzururu Movement and the Struggle for the Rwenzururu Kingdom in Uganda” IOB discussion paper / 2016. 2294-86

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Rwenzuru Kingdom. The coronation ceremony of Charles Mumbere, as the Omusinga (king) of

Obusinga Bwa Rwenzururu took place on October 19, 2009.

In restoring the Rwenzururu kingdom, the regime leader hoped to co-opt the kingdom within his

patronage network similar to what he had successfully done for other kingdoms such as Tooro,

Busoga and Bunyoro, among others. However, it looks as if Museveni underestimated the resolve

of the people of Rwenzururu to defy his patronage tendencies and defend their kingdom from

government interferences. The kingdom has a history of defiance against strong outside players.

For instance, it was formed out of the struggle between the Bamba and Bakonjo against their

powerful neighbor, the Tooro Kingdom, which was backed by the British colonial administration.

Hence, the struggle for self-determination is something that is intrinsic in the kingdom’s identity.

Furthermore, in the early 1980s several remnants of this kingdom such as Richard Kinyamusitu

formed armed groups like Rwenzururu Freedom Movement (RFM) to fight Obote when other

kings were fleeing into exile.

Following the restoration of Rwenzururu kingdom, its king moved swiftly to establish a good

working relationship with the central government, but soon he found himself at loggerheads with

Museveni over his divide-and-rule policy. Disagreement emerged after the government supported

the installation of a traditional leader of the Bamba sub-tribe, a move that was interpreted by the

Rwenzururu kingdom elites as intended to weaken the power and influence of their monarchy

(similar to what he had done in Buganda) and, eventually, to break it into two kingdoms. As one

area politician puts it:

…. Museveni is solely responsible for this mess when he started creating other

kingdoms within the obusinga bwa Rwenzururu. He antagonized the Bakonzo

and Bamba and it was a setup for the people. He would sponsor these moves, but

we remained calm.521

When Museveni’s political opponent, Dr Kizza Besigye visited the Rwenzori region during his

2016 election campaign, he was hosted by the king, Omusinga Mumbere, at his palace. The king

was seen on TV saying he had advised Museveni to retire from politics and go to look after his

521 See, for example, an Interview of Winfred Kizza, area woman member of parliament in the Daily Monitor (December 28, 2016) Available online: http://www.monitor.co.ug/News/National/MP-Kiiza-blames-clashes-on-govt--seeks-talks/688334-3467954-iu76epz/index.html (Accessed January 20, 2016).

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cattle in his village ranch. This was quite a bold statement from Mumbere, and it revealed the

behind-the scenes dispute between the king and the President. For Museveni, a public rebuke of

that nature could not possibly go unpunished.

Although Museveni won the 2016 presidential election, he was shocked at the magnitude of the

defeat he suffered in the district of Kasese, the administrative seat of the Rwenzururu Kingdom.522

Not only was the ruling party left with no parliamentary representation from the district, it was

also roundly defeated in all local council polls in the area. Regime elites, trying to come to terms

with the loss, placed the blame squarely at the doorstep of the kingdom and its king. They accused

the kingdom of having misled people into joining the opposition.523

It is not clear what exactly sparked off the deadly post-election violence in Kasese. But several

accounts indicate that the first phase of violence broke out after people poured into the streets to

celebrate the defeat of the ruling party in the area.524 Six people were killed by security forces in

this violence and dozens were injured. Gen. Kayihura, the police chief, immediately called a press

conference to denounce what he called “militia linked to the kingdom”.525 He blamed this militia

for engaging the police and the army in running battles and for attacking police posts. Kingdom

officials, however, denied Kayihura’s accusation and instead blamed security forces for attacking

and killing innocent civilians who were celebrating the electoral outcome. When the security

situation in the area remained tense, Museveni demanded that the king disband his royal guards

and accept protection from the police and the army. A stand-off ensued after the king rejected the

request, arguing that his royal guards were part and parcel of the kingdom’s culture and a king

would not be a king without his guards, many of whom were armed with royal regalia like spears,

arrows and bows. In response, a combined force of UPDF and police, stormed the palace with guns

and rocket-propelled grenades and burnt it down, killing over 180 people.526 The government

claimed that ‘only’ 87 people were killed over two days of violence. However, human rights

522 Interview with Hon. Francis Mwijukye, ibid. 523 New Vision (March 27, 2016) “Why Besigye Beats Museveni in Kasese” Available online: http://www.newvision.co.ug/new_vision/news/1151719/besigye-beats-museveni-kasese (Accessed January 20, 2016). 524See interview with Winfred Kizza. ibid. 525 Uganda Radio Network (March 13, 2016) “Kasese Attacks Fueled by Rwenzururu Kingdom Militia – Kayihura” Available online: https://ugandaradionetwork.com/story/kale-kayihura-militias-who-attacked-security-personnel-are-linked-to-obusinga-wa-rwenzururu (Accessed January 20, 2016). 526 Daily Monitor (December 7, 2016) “Museveni Defends attack on Rwenzuru Palace” Available online: http://www.monitor.co.ug/News/National/Museveni-defends-attack-on-Rwenzururu-palace/688334-3478456-hmtpno/index.html (Accessed January 20, 2016).

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organizations and medical personnel from Red Cross say the actual number is much higher, with

at least 55 killed on the first day of the operation and more than 100, including at least 15 children,

killed on the second day of the operation.

The army claimed that, among those killed, were the supposedly armed royal militias; however

the evidence to prove that assertion remains scanty. All kingdoms in Uganda recruit their own

royal guards, but these are not armed with guns. Instead they carry agricultural tools like machetes

and traditional hunting equipment like spears and arrows that are considered part of the royal

regalia. They therefore do not constitute an armed force under Ugandan law or international

humanitarian law. Moreover, many accounts from local and international human rights

organizations, as well as pictures published in the local press, indicate that many of those killed

were unarmed civilians, including women and children. As the Human Rights Watch report on the

massacre explains:

On any given day, the palace could have hundreds of people inside, royal guards

as well as women, children, and young people, cooking meals, learning

vocational skills, and tending to the kingdom’s animals, among other tasks….527

The government claimed that security agencies were forced to respond after they were first

attacked by royal guards who were agitating for the creation of their own republic called the Yiira.

However, this claim has been widely disputed by the kingdom and local observers. The kingdom

maintains that the so-called Yiira Republic is a propaganda tool created by the government to

justify its brutal actions against the Rwenzururu Kingdom. As one kingdom insider explains:

“There is (nothing) like Yiira Republic. It is just a fiction created by the government to justify its

actions.”528

Speaking about the crisis, Museveni boasted that the king was “reaping what he sowed” and should

not blame anyone else for the consequences.529 The President further bragged that he crashed the

king’s stubbornness without even deploying the full power of his military. To him, the king was

the only one responsible for his predicament and that of his subjects. Of course, such a statement

527 Report by the Human Rights Watch, March 2017 528 Interview with Asuman Bisiika. Ibid. 529 See Museveni’s Statement on Kasese and Bundibugyo attacks. Available online: http://www.newvision.co.ug/new_vision/news/1342421/museveni-speaks-kasese-bundibugyo-attacks

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coming from the head of state after many Ugandans had lost their lives in a military operation says

a lot about how much Museveni’s regards civilian lives. A parliamentarian from the region alleged

that Museveni sees the loss of lives as justified in the pursuit of power and regime

survival.530Civilian lives are considered as collateral or incidental damage that is inevitable in

achieving his ultimate objective of power consolidation. Disobedience attracts serious punishment.

Indeed, using a local Luganda proverb, Museveni noted that, by rejecting his advice, the king had

chosen to “use a clay canoe to cross a body of water” and that the consequences were disastrous

for both the king and his supporters.531

The king was arrested and subsequently charged with murder, treason and terrorism, and sent to

jail. After spending several months under detention, he was granted bail by the court, but the state

has since placed him under house arrest in Kampala with no form of communication with his

subjects or kingdom officials allowed. Remarkably, none of the military and police officers who

commanded the operation have been investigated for the deaths of many civilians. The new

military spokesman, Brig. Richard Karemire, says there will be no investigation into the military’s

conduct. Instead, the President promoted the commander of this Kasese operation, Brig. Peter

Elwelu, to the rank of major general and elevated him to the post of overall commander of land

forces.

One lesson from Uganda’s post-conflict state reconstruction is that whenever the regime is faced

with challenges emananging from the “residue” social structure (as in the case of 2010 Buganda

protests and post-election protests), the military is summoned to intervene, and it has been eager

to show its teeth. This implies that the military remains under the control of the regime which has

strengthened the its capacity to dominate the country’s political structures. Many individuals who

hold command positions in the army were once guerrillas in Museveni’s NRA and they have a

sense of entitlement. They feel they rescued the country from the dictatorships of Amin and Obote

and that nobody has a right to challenge their leadership.532 As one opposition MP explains:

530 See the Interview of Winfred Kizza, area woman member of parliament in Daily Monitor (December 28, 2016) Available online: http://www.monitor.co.ug/News/National/MP-Kiiza-blames-clashes-on-govt--seeks-talks/688334-3467954-iu76epz/index.html (Accessed January 20, 2017). 531 See Museveni’s Statement on Kasese and Bundibugyo attacks. Available online: http://www.newvision.co.ug/new_vision/news/1342421/museveni-speaks-kasese-bundibugyo-attacks(Accessed January 18, 2018). 532 See the Interview of Winfred Kizza. Ibid.

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Whenever you challenge [the regime], the first thing they say is, ‘Where were

you when we were fighting?’ What they did in Kasese was the UPDF at its worst

behaviour. They bombed the palace, massacred innocent civilians, and buried

them in military barracks. The actions were meant to ensure that there was no

trace of evidence left behind. The police (were) present but they did nothing.533

Before the crisis in Kasese unfolded, Kampala and neighbouring towns were placed on a military

lockdown after 2016 elections. The army deployed thousands of foot soldiers with orders to arrest

and detain individuals or any groups planning protest over Museveni’s re-election. Besigye himself

was placed under house arrest and other opposition leaders like the mayor of Kampala, Erias

Lukwago, opposition Chief Whip Ssemuju Ibrahim Nganda, the head of mobilization in the FDC,

Ingrid Turinawe; and the former leader of opposition in parliament, Wafula Oguttu were either

arrested and detained or had their homes surrounded and never allowed to leave. Others like

Michael Kabaziguruka, the MP for Nakawa Division in Kampala, were jailed incommunicado.

These actions were meant to thwart any attempt at staging a protest against the regime. Though

not a serving soldier, Kabaziguruka was later charged with treason in the court martial. In an

interview, he says the actions of the military shows how far the regime is willing to go to subdue

the opposition.

He notes:

How can you claim to have won a free and fair election when you have to deploy

the whole military force in every town to stop people from expressing their views

about the election? They arrested me many times saying that I was planning to

organize a mutiny against the President. Can you imagine a ridiculous charge

like that?534

The highlights above show that security agents play a key role in safeguarding Museveni’s regime

through arrests, harassment and torture of the regime’s opponents. The actions of the military after

the 2016 election, and especially in Kasese, show that promotions are preserved for those who are

considered loyal and willing to mete out brutality on behalf of the regime. A case in point here is

Gen. Elwelu, who was promoted after commanding the ‘Kasese Massacre’ in which more than

533 Interview with Mwijukye Francis. Ibid. 534 Interview with Michael Kabaziguruka, Members of Parliament for Nakawa division, Kampala.

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180 people were killed. Also, we see that the army and its institutions are constantly abused to

purge critical and independent-minded cadres both in the military and in the ruling party. The court

martial is also an institution that the President has regularly exploited to punish officers who

become critical of his rule. Many officers like Maj. Gen. James Kazini, Lt. Gen. Henry Tumukunde

and others have been court martialled simply because they expressed views considered out of the

line with the President’s own thinking. In Tumukunde’s case, the court martial trial lasted eight

years. This was a deliberate strategy by the regime to frustrate him until he recanted or sought

forgiveness from Museveni. Such cases should be interpreted as a political witch-hunt motivated

by nothing other than the need to punish non-conformists. Thus, purging independent-minded

officers and rewarding loyalists remains a key pillar of the regime’s survival strategy. In fact, even

after retiring, officers remain scared of criticising the regime because the regime is known to keep

incriminating evidence against senior members of the military that could in future be used to bring

politically-motivated charges. For this reason, many retired military officers and former

government officials have chosen to keep a low profile because they are afraid the state could

easily prosecute them if they suddenly became critical of Museveni’s misrule.

Conclusion

Several insights can be drawn from the above discussion. First, instead of deepening political

foundation for democratization, Museveni has relied heavily on the military to stifle democracy.

Ugandans express fear that the Special Force Command is consistently behaving like Museveni’s

personal army and could forcefully install the first son into power, a risky move that could herald

a period of chaos and bloodshed. However, despite the brutal crackdown on dissenting voices, the

opposition to Museveni’s regime continues to gather pace. Museveni seemed to have won the

2011 election by a wide margin, but soon after spontaneous protests broke out in major towns in

Uganda. Many regime elites confess that the protests that followed the 2011 election caught them

unaware. They believed Museveni had won resoundingly and that Ugandans would be content

with his victory but were then surprised by the fierce urgency of the anti-Museveni movement and

by the magnitude of the protests. The near-success of that protest movement prompted heavy

investments in anti-riot armaments by both the police and the military, further underscoring the

pervasive role of the military in Uganda’s body politic.

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Inasmuch as the military remains a key player in Uganda, its advantages can be eroded by

opposition groups if they concentrate on ‘mobilization from below’. In fact, the reason Museveni

is often quick to deploy the military to contain anti-regime protests is because he knows that the

police are unprepared to deal with a strong wave generated by the masses if well mobilized. Given

Uganda’s historical experience, Museveni understands that the presence of the military spreads

fear among the population and it is that fear that prevents people from mobilizing against the

regime. Likewise, the people fear to mobilize large-scale protest because they know that the

response from the military will be swift and brutal. Since gaining independence in 1962, Uganda

has never once witnessed a peaceful transfer of power from one President to another. From Gen.

Sejusa’s fallout with Museveni, we learn that Museveni needs to proceed carefully because the

debate over the transition from his rule is generating concern among political and military elites.535

535 See Red Pepper (January 25, 2016) “Ugandan Presidency does not Belong to Museveni-Kahinda Otafiire” Available online: http://www.redpepper.co.ug/ugandas-presidency-does-not-belong-to-museveni-kahinda-otafiire/ (Accessed October 23, 2017).

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Chapter Six

Military Corruption as a Pillar of Regime Survival in Uganda

Introduction

After capturing power in 1986, President Museveni inherited a country that was in decline.536 A

decade of political turmoil and gross economic mismanagement had plunged Uganda’s economy

into prolonged decay. Many of the best-trained personnel had fled the country as industries and

government parastatals collapsed.537 And, although Idi Amin argued that his decision to expel

Asian merchants was intended to put “the economy in the hands of Africans”538 and to create a

new class of “black millionaires”, it instead plunged the country into a downward

spiral of economic decline. 539 Ugandans were forced to survive amid a crisis of soaring prices of

consumer goods and a steep decline in the Gross Domestic Product of about 20%. Likewise, the

economy was affected by a series of external shocks such as the rise in the price of petroleum in

1973 and the breakdown of the East African Community in 1977.540

In the pursuit of economic growth and microeconomic stability, Museveni’s regime launched an

ambitious neo-liberal economic reform program in May 1987.541 These reforms were meant to

achieve three objectives: restore price stability and address the balance of payments problem;

stimulate economic growth by offering incentives to farmers in order to increase the marketability

of agriculture and agro-processing industries; and improve the efficiency of the public sector

through effective resource allocation, revenue collections and accountability.542 The thinking of

the new administration was that this reform program, if well implemented, could restore Uganda’s

GDP growth to about 5%, reduce inflation by 90% and reinstate the competitiveness of Uganda’s

exports.543 Museveni then argued that, in the new economy, the military would not be simply

536 Muhumuza, William (2009) “From Fundamental Change to No Change: The National Resistance Movement (NRM) and Democratization in Uganda” Les Cahiers d’Afrique de l’Est,3 (41) 21-42 537 Gwyn, David and Ali Mazru (1977) Idi Amin: death-light of Africa. Boston: Little Brown. 538 President Idi Amin’s Statement on the expulsion of Asians from Uganda, August 9th, 1972 539 Hansen, B. Holger & Twaddle, Michael. eds. (1988) Uganda Now Between Decay and Development. London, James Curry Publishers Co. 540 Cooper, Scott (2007) “Why doesn't regional monetary cooperation follow trade cooperation?” Review of International Political Economy Volume14(Issue4) Pagep.626To-652 541 Uganda Government Policy Framework Paper (1988) Sec M88-989 August 23. 542 World Bank Report (1988) “Uganda: Towards Stabilization and Economic Recovery” Available online: http://documents.worldbank.org/curated/en/419601468176658288/pdf/multi0page.pdf (December 28, 2016) 543 Apart from specific measures introducing in the financial year, 1988/88, more short-term to medium term-fiscal policies were detailed in the Uganda government framework paper of the next financial year, 1989/1990

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restricted to fighting wars but would also engage in the implementation of investment projects to

generate rapid economic growth. However, three decades later, the UPDF’s involvement in

Uganda’s economy remains peripheral. The privatization of government parastatals in the 1990s

and the early 2000s further diminished the direct influence of the military in the economy, but it

created opportunities for corruption and illicit dealings between the political class, private

businesspersons and military elites. Since the late 1990s, cases of corruption and illicit trading in

the procurement of military equipment and defence supplies have become widespread and a source

of concern for Parliament, the auditor general and the donor community.544

In examining the state of military corruption and survival strategies of Museveni’s regime, this

chapter advances two arguments: 1) Although President Museveni promised to end military

corruption that had led to economic crises under previous regimes, systemic corruption in the

UPDF under his rule has soared to an unprecedented level. The question is: how has military

corruption facilitated the survival of Museveni’s regime in Uganda? This chapter shows how the

military has plundered Uganda’s economy and how the actions of army personnel are tolerated

and sometimes encouraged by the regime leader because corruption serves as an instrument of

political control and survival. The regime leader deliberately allows military officers to engage in

fraudulent business practices, which in turn helps him to collect and store incriminating evidence

against potential threats and rivals. Such evidence is not used to prosecute army officers who are

loyal to the regime but rather to indict and intimidate officers who seek to challenge Museveni’s

rule. As a consequence, army generals end up in political oblivion when they retire –– that is, they

cannot cross over to the opposition or become vocal against Museveni’s rule because they fear

reprisals from the regime leader. Those who defy this norm and turn critical of the regime end up

in courts charged with crimes ostensibly committed while serving in the army. 2) Although the

Ugandan army has gained unprecedented political power, its role in the economy remains weak

and obscure. The foundation of UPDF’s influence in Uganda’s economy stems from the way it is

used to safeguard the interests of the political elites. Thus, despite Museveni’s initial promise to

situate the army at the core of Uganda’s economic reconstruction, the UPDF is not involved in

major economic projects like public infrastructure, domestic manufacturing or large-scale

agricultural production. Moreover, high-ranking members of the UPDF are seldom appointed to

544 Mwenda, Andrew & Tangiri, Tangiri, (2003). Ibid.

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run institutions of economic nature or to serve in top administrative positions in state-owned quasi-

public enterprises. Finally, the UPDF does not enjoy any industrial, commercial or financial

privileges such as access to subsidized fuel for personal vehicles, consumer goods, housing estates

or preferential access to state contracts as had been the case under Amin’s rule. These privileges

were abolished when the NRM government privatized those state-owned enterprises that used to

provide subsidized goods to the army.

In view of the issues pursued above, the question is: Why has Museveni restricted the UPDF’s role

in Uganda’s economy? I argue that, although Museveni’s initial promise was to position the UPDF

at the forefront of Uganda’s socio-economic reconstruction, he later realized the political danger

of managing a wealthy army that commands significant economic influence.

In contrast to the Obote and Amin’s regime, Museveni developed a deliberate strategy to prevent

high-ranking soldiers from legitimately acquiring wealth and power. The fear of the Museveni

regime is that a wealthy and powerful military would pose a threat to the regime’s hold on power.

Therefore, instead of propping up a military economy that can provide avenues for soldiers to

legally acquire wealth, Museveni has encouraged or tolerated the practice of individual soldiers

gaining wealth through fraudulent procurement deals, illicit trade and pillage. The regime believes

that, by letting army generals participate in fraudulent practices, it damages the public standing of

these generals, while leaving Museveni to claim a moral high ground over all the generals in his

‘bush war’ network.

Therefore, as far as the military’s role in Uganda’s postwar economic reconstruction is concerned,

the new regime faced a number of complex but interrelated situations: For instance, the legitimate

need to develop the military’s financial capacity (in order to acquire both hardware and human

resources needed for national defence). This led the government to invest a lot of resources in

military capacity building. Yet this heavy investment created opportunities for individual soliders

to acquire wealth through corruption, illicit trading and outright theft of military resources.

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Many anti corruption activists and donor groups pressure regims such as Museveni’s to create anti-

corruption bodies.545 Yet, the case of Uganda shows how post-conflict/undemocratic African

regimes deflect such pressure for accountability. For example, Museveni has faced international

criticism over the corrupt nature of his government, and he has responded by creating several anti-

corruption organs. But these organs are created for propaganda purposes when, in practice, no

serious steps have been taken to curb corruption. In what follows, I start by assessing the economic

role of the military under the regimes of Amin, Obote and Museveni. I then examine how this

failure has facilitated the growth of corruption and illicit dealings in the defence sector. Finally, I

demonstrate how corrupt practices have effectively been tolerated by the Museveni regime through

its failure to subject military officers to public accountability and through its refusal to prosecute

or punish army officers accused of corruption, despite the concerns of parliament, the public and

the donor community.

The Military and the Economy under Obote and Amin

Prior to Amin’s coup of January 1971, the Ugandan military was not considered a key economic

player because it never enjoyed any influential role in the process of production.546 It neither owned

nor controlled any economic sector and, despite all soldiers being wage earners, it never

constituted an industrial or agricultural workforce.547 However, this should not be taken to imply

that the military did not have a bearing on Uganda’s economy. Indeed, since the mutiny of January

1964,548 the economic weight of the Ugandan army stemmed from its high salaries and profligate

fringe benefits in a country where the average annual per capita income was below £20.549 Thus,

high salaries and rapid promotions placed soldiers among the best paid workers in Uganda. High-

ranking officers earned incomes comparable to very top-level government employees like

permanent secretaries and ministers. It was through high salaries that the army became a dominant

privileged class, which differentiated army officers from the political class, and which raised

questions about their political loyalties and ethnic identities, with some Ugandans questioning the

545 Chang, Eric, and Miriam A. Golden (2010). "Sources of Corruption in Authoritarian Regimes." Social Science Quarterly 91, no. 1: 1-20. 546 Chick, John (1972) “Class Conflict and Military Intervention in Uganda” The Journal of Modern African Studies Vol. 10, No. 4 (Dec., 1972), pp. 634-637 547 Ravenhill., F. (1974) “Military Rule in Uganda: The Politics of Survival” African Studies Review, 17(1) 229-160. 548 Ali, A. Mazrui and Donald Rothchild (1967) “The Soldier and the State in East Africa: Some Theoretical Conclusions on the Army Mutinies of 1964” The Western Political Quarterly Vol. 20, No. 1 (March 1967), pp. 82-96 549 Lofchie, F Michael (1972) “The Uganda Coupe-Class Action” The Journal of Modern African Studies Vol. 10, No. 1 (May 1972), pp. 19-35

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unbalanced ethnic representation in the army.550 Moreover, because the army derived its political

power from its control over the means of violence, political elites made sure not to antagonize the

soldiers’ privileged economic status, fearing the possibility of a second mutiny.

Unlike in other East African countries, particularly Kenya and Tanzania, the overall policy of post-

independent leaders in Uganda was not to separate the army from society, to infuse it with a spirit

of professionalism or to have it be led by officers who were politically neutral.551 The

consequences of this historical mistake were felt by all the country’s post-independence regimes

and can still be discerned in Uganda to date. For instance, while Obote had to contend with constant

military mutinies, Kenya under Jomo Kenyatta did not experience the same problem because it

was able to establish a politically neutral army that exhibited a high degree of subordination to the

government in power.552

The decision by Uganda’s post-independence leaders to grant soldiers a privileged economic status

meant that they were unable to handle the army in a manner that could reduce tension between the

political class and the military elites. As a result, leaders such as Amin and Obote found themselves

in an untenable position where they were forced to submit to ongoing economic blackmail by the

military elites. Attempts by Obote to shrink the military’s economic privileges were strongly

resisted by the army, which created disputes between the political and military elites. For instance,

two years after Uganda gained independence in 1962, the Obote government was initially reluctant

to respond to the soldiers’ demand for the ‘Africanisation’ of the economy and to improve the

military’s economic conditions. This fueled discontent in the army, eventually leading to the 1964

mutiny.553 Obote was then forced to grant the mutineers demands, including pay raises and faster

Africanization of the economy (transfer of the ownership of the economy from foreigners to

Ugandans). This Africanization policy furtherr facilitated the creation of an economically

privileged and politically powerful army dominated by soldiers from the geographic north.554 The

Obote government believed that the only way to prohibit the mutiny from turning into a fully-

fledged coup d’état was to elevate the military’s socio-economic status by allowing military

550 Ravenhill, F. (1994). ibid. p.3 551 Twaddle, Michael (1973) “Order and Disorder in Uganda” The World Today 29 (10) (Oct.): 449-54. 552 Lofchie F Michael (1972) Ibid. p.3 553 Omara-Otunnu, Amii (1987), Politics and the Military in Uganda, 1890-1985, London: Macmillan. 554 Lindemann, Stefan (2011) “Just Another Change of Guard? Broad-based Politics and Civil War in Museveni’s Uganda” African Affairs, 110, 440, 387-416.

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officials to accumulate wealth. The Ugandan military’s salary scale of 1967 shows that, compared

to what was offered in Kenya, Malawi and Zambia, Ugandan soldiers were paid handsomely. A

Ugandan private (non-commissioned soldier) earned more than twice the annual income of his

counterparts in Kenya, Malawi and Zambia, and earned £100 more than a private in Zambia.555 A

sergeant in the Ugandan army earned more than twice the salary of his counterpart in Malawi and

almost £200 more than a sergeant in Kenya (see table 2 below). Although Uganda was a poor

agricultural society, soldiers at all ranks became relatively wealthy individuals because of their

high salaries. In addition to their high salaries, they also received other material benefits like

subsidized housing, food, medical treatment and family allowances. Given the fact that in 1967

Uganda was a society of cultivators, cattle keepers and plantation workers employed in tea and

sugar farms, the difference in material well-being between soldiers and average citizens was

generally large.

555 Lofchie F. Michael (1972). ibid.p.3

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Table.2. Annual Salaries of East African Armies in 1967, in £ sterling

Source: Lofchie F Michael (1972) Ibid. p.3

President Obote was the first post-independence Ugandan leader to attempt to shrink the

military’s economic and political influence when he introduced the “Move to the Left” policy. In

the first of a series of five documents intended to offer ideological direction and a strategic vision

for the re-organization of Ugandan society, Obote announced in October 1969 that Uganda would

abandon capitalism in favour of socialism. He argued that the ‘Move to the Left’ entailed the

adoption of a Common Man’s Charter, which he issued as a statement of principle to the Uganda

Peoples’ Congress (UPC), the ruling party at the time. In it, Obote stated his opposition to

capitalism both for its links to colonialism and for its incompatibility with Uganda’s economic

needs.556 Abandoning capitalism in favour of socialism, he argued, would solve Uganda’s socio-

556Crawford, Young, (1966) “The Obote Revolution.” Africa Report 11 (June 1966): 8– 14.

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economic problems that were inherited from colonial administrators. He thus endeavoured to

establish a society of economic equals by engaging in a wealth redistribution policy comparable

to what Julius Nyaerere had introduced in Tanzania with his Ujamaa policy.557 Among other

things, President Obote introduced a saving scheme to reduce Uganda’s dependence on foreign

capital, created more state enterprises and nationalized private companies, arguing that it would

enable Ugandans to gain a stake in their economy, reduce societal inequality and secure the

country’s economic independence.558 He sought to transform the existing mind-set with a call to

dismantle the colonial education system, which he faulted for reinforcing class inequality as well

as promoting capitalistic tendencies.559 He writes in the charter that:

We identify two circumstances in which the emergence of a privileged class can

find comfort and grow. First, there is our education system which aims at

producing citizens whose attitude to the uneducated and to their way of life leads

them to think of themselves as the masters and the uneducated as their servants.

Secondly, the opportunities for self-employment in modern commerce and

industry and to gain employment in Government and in other sectors of the

economy are mainly open to the educated few; but instead of these educated few

doing everything possible within their powers for the less educated, a tendency

is developing where whoever is in business or in Government looks to his

immediate family and not to the country as a whole in opening these

opportunities.560

To shrink the army’s influence, Obote proposed a new model of military management in which

the army would relinquish its political and economic authority but be allowed to serve in projects

intended for development such as building schools, roads and hospitals, something akin to what

Nyerere had introduced in Tanzania.

557 Campbell, Horace (2010) “Julius Nyerere: between state-centred and people-centred Pan-Africanism.” In: C. Chachage and A. Cassam, eds. (2010) Africa’s liberation: the legacy of Nyerere. Cape Town: Pambazuka Press, 44–60 558 Gitelson, A. Suzan (1977) “Major Shift in Recent Ugandan Foreign Policy” African Affairs, 76(Issue304) Pagep.359To-380 559 Gershenberg, Irving (1972). “Slouching towards Socialism: Obote's Uganda” African Studies Review, 15(1), 79-95. 560 See Obote’s Common Man Charter (article 22 and 23) Available online: https://otoascrapnotes.wordpress.com/2012/05/22/dr-apollo-milton-obotes-common-mans-charter. (December 28, 2016)

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However, the proposed shift from capitalism to socialism commenced the beginning of the

downfall of Obote’s regime because it sparked tension between the political elites who backed his

regime and the military elites. In the eyes of the Ugandan military, the “Move to the Left’ posed

an immediate threat to its economic privileges and was seen as a rebuke to army officers who

considered their economic status as just reward for their willingness to subordinate themselves to

civilian authority. Inevitably, the Obote government and the military found themselves on a

collision course. For the army, allowing Obote to implement his socialist policies would end the

officers’ enviable privileges. Subsequently, army officials went public with their criticisms of

Obote’s socialism and quickly gained support from some Baganda landed elites who were equally

uncomfortable with Obote’s wealth redistribution policy. The two privileged social groups united

to defend their status against the threat posed by the Obote regime and, in the end, Obote found

himself isolated. This certainly contributed to his overthrow in a coup d’état led by Gen. Amin.561

Under Amin’s regime, the military regained its privileged status and enhanced its position as a

dominant economic class in Uganda,562regaining the privileges it had lost under Obote’s rule.

Amin made sure that the fruits of his economic war were first distributed to his soldiers and their

families, and then to his political cronies. He provided soldiers with houses, cars and health

insurance. In the process of distributing the properties confiscated from Asians, Amin made sure

that the army got the first right to acquire those properties to the extent of forcing black Ugandans

who had legitimately bought some properties from departing Asians to surrender them to the army.

In some instances, soldiers engaged in blatant plunder, forcefully confiscating properties and

goods from the people on various roadblocks mounted across the country. Most of the companies

Obote had nationalized in his ‘Move to the Left’ (communist) policy suffered under Amin’s

apparent ‘Move to the Right’ (capitalism) policy. For instance, while Obote had nationalized state-

owned companies at sixty shares to the Ugandan government and forty shares to foreigners, Amin

split shares evenly between Ugandans and foreigners. In his move to create a new class of black

millionaires,563 Amin made sure that majority of shareholders were high-ranking Ugandan soldiers

who acquired these shares through influence peddling. At some point, Amin went as far as

suggesting that soldiers should take over the ownership of all hotels in Uganda. This policy failed

561 Mazrui, A. Ali (1970) “Leadership in Africa: Obote of Uganda”. International Journal, 25(3), 538. 562 Lofchie, F Michael (1972). ibid. p. 19-35 563 Melady, Thomas P., and Margaret B. Melady. Uganda: The Asian Exiles. Maryknoll, New York: Orbis Books, 1976

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to materialize, though the army succeeded in gaining control of the Nile Hotel and Lake Victoria

Hotel.

Like Obote’s socialism, Amin’s economic nationalism left a lot to be desired. 564 The economic

situation continued to worsen amid high unemployment, and the soaring cost of living. Two

reasons explain why Amin’s policy of economic nationalism failed: First, the soldiers he placed at

the forefront of Uganda’s economy lacked the managerial skills and expertise to run national

industries. Second, most of the soldiers he entrusted with financial matters got entangled in the

pursuit of self-interest, which led to greed, violence, the phenomenon of kondoism (armed

robbery), and ultimately aggravated internal disorder. The economy, which was based mainly on

the production of cotton, coffee, tea, copper, sugar, and tourism, suffered as the country regressed

to a military state in which fiscal matters were determined by the barrel of the gun. To make

matters worse, Amin engaged in excessive military spending without considering the economic

ramifications. To appease his enthusiastic generals, he bought expensive military hardware and

bankrupted the national treasury. For instance, during his first state visit to Britain, Amin ordered

the purchase of thirty Saracen and Saladin armoured cars as well as "modern French weapons" and

dozens of sophisticated French missile-launchers .565 He spent large sums of money on the

construction of army bases and barracks across the country, and allowed members of the military

to ask for advances on their monthly salaries if they wished to celebrate important religious days

like Eid al-Fitr and Eid al-Adha.566 With such levels of excessive expenditure, it is not surprising

that by 1972 the defence budget had skyrocketed by 50% above that of 1971, when it constituted

already 34% of the national budget.567

To finance his budget, Amin sharply increased government borrowing from the Central Bank of

Uganda. For instance, when he assumed power, government borrowing was estimated at Shs103

million but within the first three months of his rule it increased to Shs234 million, and by the end

of his first year in office it had skyrocketed to Shs1,000 million. This situation was captured in the

1972 report by the Bank of Uganda, which showed that government borrowing spiked by 600% in

just six months of Amin’s regime, while foreign reserves fell from Shs408 million to Shs64

564 Karugire, R. Samwiri (1988). ibid. 565 The Uganda Argus 1 July 1971, p. 19; 19 July 1971). 566 Mazrui, A. Ali (1970). Ibid. 567 Lofchie F Michael (1972), ibid.P.6

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million. Other estimates show that Shs700 million was spent on the military during Amin’s first

year alone.568 By 1972 the country had also started to experience the negative impacts of Amin’s

nationalization policy because national revenue collections went down, factories closed and Asian

merchants left the country. Government figures from the fiscal year of 1972/73 show that

government revenue decreased by 34% -- that is, from Shs1,525 million to Shs1,006 million, yet

total expenditure increased by 7% during the same period, culminating in a deficit of Shs423

million.569

Table 3: The Defence Budget for the Financial Year 1971-1973 (in Uganda Shillings)

Source: The Appropriations Decree nos. 35 (1971) and 16 (1972). The

Supplementary Appropriations Decree nos. 23 (1971) and 15 (1972) (Entebbe:

Government Printer, 1971 and 1972) as cited in Ravenhill, F (1994). ibid. p.3

The above table shows that within a year of Amin’s rule the total defence budget increased from

Shs132 million in 1971 to Shs179 million in 1972. Other accounts show that in the following year

(1973) defence spending increased to 700millions.570 The burden of Amin’s excessive expenditure

was borne by ordinary Ugandans who experienced sporadic shortages of essential goods like rice,

sugar and salt. The cost of living rose by 23% within the first nine months of Amin’s rule, exports

fell by 3.8% and imports increased by 57.5%. It was due to this situation that the Finance Minister

described the 1972 budget as the “austerity budget” in which the government was forced to

increase the price of a kilogram of sugar by 35% and of beer by 15% per half a liter.571

568 Legum, Colin, ed. (1973) Africa Contemporary Record, Volume 5 1972-1973. London: Collins, 973. Pp. A3-19. 569 Geria, Budget Speech, June 13, 1973 570 Legum, Colin, ed. (1973). Ibid.p.7 571 Uganda Argus 16 June 1972

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From the above discussion, it is evident that military expenditure imposed a heavy burden on

Uganda’s economy during the regimes of Obote II and Amin. Amin engaged in excessive military

expenditure which, combined will the ill-conceived expulsion of the Asians and the nationalization

of private companies, bankrupted the economy and further damaged the country’s economic

fabric. The difference between Amin’s and Obote’s handling of the Ugandan military is clear:

While Obote tried to curtail the influence of the military in the political and economic spheres of

Uganda, Amin’s appeasement policy sought to enhance the military’s control of the economy. The

socialist policies of the Obote II regime were ill-conceived and set him on a collision course with

the army. Similar to Amin, the army had enjoyed a privileged status in the Ugandan society since

1962 and would not relinquish such a status without a fight. Obote’s blind belief in socialism led

him to assume that by adopting a leftist ideology, it would curb the influence of the army in

Uganda’s economy, reduce societal inequality and increase production. Not only did he

overestimate the popularity of his socialist policies among Ugandan elites, but also underestimated

the army’s resolve to fight for the maintenance of the status quo. Obote’s overthrow worsened the

economic situation of many Ugandans, but it helped the military to regain its position at the top of

the economic ladder. What followed was the overthrow of Obote by the military which created a

series of political crisis and civil war that ended with Museveni’s NRA guerrilla group capturing

power in Kampala in 1986. Below I explore military corruption and its role in the economy under

the Museveni regime.

The Military and the Economy under Museveni

When the NRA came to power, Ugandans had already been exposed to the political and economic

failures of the army. Not only did Museveni promise to create a professional, disciplined and all-

inclusive national army, he also vowed to reorient the military’s role in Uganda’s socio-economic

spheres. In his first decade in power, Museveni was successful at changing the attitude of

individual soldiers regarding wealth accumulation. Unlike Amin’s army, which captured the state

through a coup, the NRA fighters had spent five years in the bush. Many of the fighters joined the

rebellion voluntarily, which made it easier for Museveni to inculcate in them the values of

sacrifice, perseverance and pursuit for a greater good. Right from the beginning, NRA fighters

were taught that self-aggrandizement was dangerous for their cause. As a result, NRA soldiers did

not impose a financial burden on the young administration with demands for higher salaries. (This

was unlike Obote-era soldiers, who had forced the government to pay them higher wages in

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exchange for not staging a coup). In fact, during the first years of Museveni’s rule, soldiers were

never paid real salaries but rather received modest allowances to enable them to afford basic

necessities. They were, however, given assurances that once the economy recovered, they would

be paid salaries, including all the arrears. The NRA soldiers continued to serve the state throughout

1986 and 1987 without pay and did not attempt to instigate discontent over non-salary payment.

In fact, it was not until 1988 that many of the soldiers got their first pay check. A significant

number of military leaders interviewed for this research attribute this to the political education that

all NRA fighters were mandated to undertake during the bush war.572 Through political education,

soldiers were taught about their position in society, studied the country’s political history and

appreciated the financial burden the government inherited. As Col. Kulayigye puts it:

…. Soldiers were only given beans and posho (maize flour) and that’s it. Why

was this possible? The purpose of education is not to indoctrinate, it’s to educate.

It was to help soldiers understand where he/she is coming from. Why have you

been fighting in the first place? … Where do you want to go? A soldier can live

without pay, live in poor condition but with hope. We had a slogan that Chama

kinapanga [the ruling party is planning for us]. We were able to live with

shortages, without pay, but with confidence that the Movement [regime] is

planning for us. The military sustained the new Movement by living without pay

but contented. We were contented with the scarcities that existed.573

Even though Museveni may have preferred his soldiers to be paid well, there was simply no money.

The Ugandan economy was in deficit unable to support payment to soldiers who constituted the

largest number of public servants at the time. The long period of civil war had led to the grounding

of industrial and agricultural production which, alongside poor infrastructure, affected revenue

collections. Moreover, Amin’s economic war against Asians and hostility toward Israelis deprived

the country of skilled labor, leading to the closure of many industries and a sharp decline in

economic productivity. The civil service itself was ailing due to lack of manpower as many

educated Ugandans fled the country in fear of Amin’s tyranny.

572 Interview with Col. Ba-Hoku Barigye.ibid. 573 Interview with Col. Felix Kulayigye ibid.

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It seems that the willingness of NRA soldiers to serve without pay in the first years of Museveni’s

rule led the new administration to believe that it had successfully changed the old attitudes of the

army regarding material wealth. If that was the case, then it was a temporary achievement. The

economy started to recover slowly and the donor community increased aid to the new

administration. This encouraged the government to begin modest salary payments to soldiers in

the last quarter of 1987.574 Impressed by the army’s selfless attitude, Museveni argued that, under

his leadership, the army would form the foundation of the country’s socio-economic development

henceforth. His vision, he said, was not simply to create a professional and disciplined national

army, but also an army that engaged in programs and actions that had a positive impact on the

economy. Hence, under the NRA, the army was not to be confined in the barracks but would also

become active in Uganda’s economic reconstruction by taking part in the creation of industries,

revitalization of agriculture and implementation of government programs intended to alleviate

poverty and increase productivity. Thus, while soldiers under the regimes of Obote and Amin had

been infamous for corruption and political violence, the Museveni regime believed that its army

was more committed to national development.575

Acting in line with the NRA’s broad vision of building an integrated self-sustaining national

economy,576 the Museveni government established the National Enterprise Corporation (NEC) to

serve as an investment arm of the Ugandan army. The NEC had the mandate to spearhead the

military’s joint investments in strategic areas of national importance, to create a productive army,

to promote and attract technology from other countries through joint ventures and to provide goods

and services to security forces.577 The NEC was also mandated to create industries and factories

managed by the army in Luwero Triangle, the enclave in central Uganda where thousands of

people were killed during the civil war. If its vision was to be achieved, then NEC would become

a military-run conglomerate incorporating several sub-sectoral industries in agriculture,

construction, pharmaceuticals, apparels, banking, real estate, production of ammunitions, repair of

rifles, armoured vehicles reconditioning and manufacturing of spare parts for military hardware.

574 Interview with Charles Odoobo-Bichachi.ibid. 575 Interview with Dr. Rwengabo Sabastian. Ibid. 576 Yoweri K. Museveni (2000) What’s Africa’s Problem? Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press. 577 More information about NEC is available on its website: ww.nec.ug (Accessed December 28, 2016)

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However, Museveni’s enthusiasm and belief in the military as a pillar for socioeconomic

transformation was based on a false premise: that the new national army would be less corrupt and

more committed to national development than its predecessor. Like Amin’s army that failed to

manage its investments, almost all of the UPDF’s investments under Museveni have also failed to

take off due to gross incompetence and corruption in the army. Many, if not all, of the companies

run by NEC are either in debt or went bankrupt and closed their operations. The UPDF recognizes

its failure to establish a new and an effective industrial and business footprint in Uganda, but it has

blamed this failure on the lack of skilled manpower. As the UPDF’s Chief National Political puts

it:

Our desire was to make sure that we contribute to the national economy…….we

wanted to lead the economy other than being dependent on the economy. The

birth of National Enterprise Corporation (NEC) was in line with the ideology of

being a productive army. But, along the way, we lacked managerial skills… it

first collapsed, but we are reviving it.578

Uganda’s military elites have often argued that the army spent over two decades preoccupied with

fighting wars and insecurity in the northern and western parts of the country and that, in the

process, lost focus on its other mission to create a profitable military-industrial complex.579

However, this is a simplistic argument that does not stand up to any serious scrutiny. First, the

problem is not simply lack of investments but ruinous corruption and lack of political will to invest

in projects that are not considered vital for regime survival. The political will to fight corruption

within the UPDF is not there. Museveni’s strategy is to let corruption flourish because fighting

corruption creates unnecessary hostilities between the regime leader and corrupt military elites.

Second, while some military officers argue that the army lacks the skills to run large industries,

this argument is also undercut by the fact that weapons-making and reconditioning factories, which

are considered essential for regime survival, have survived while those that produce non-military

products have either collapsed or have been left to deteriorate. For instance, Luwero Industries

Limited, a bullet-making and rifle-repair factory in Nakasongola, is booming and has become a

top supplier of bullets for the army and private security companies in the region.580 The armoured

578 Interview with Col. Felix Kulayigye. Ibid. 579 This view is held by majority military officers interviewed for this research 580 Matsiko, Grace., (2003) “UPDF Ammunitions Factory Goes Commercial” AllAfrica. Com. Available online: https://allafrica.com/stories/200309300470.html (Accessed 10 February 2019)

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vehicle-reconditioning factory in Nakasongola has flourished and is now refurbishing armoured

vehicles and manufacturing spare parts for military use.

In total, the government has sunk over Shs27 billion into Luwero Industries Limited and Uganda

is now a hub for the reconditioning of military vehicles and tanks from neighbouring countries like

South Sudan and Burundi. These factories have flourished at the expense of non-weaponry

industries. The reason is simple: NEC factories that are critical for the regime to survive have

thrived while those that produce non-military hardware have been left to collapse. The army has

made several attempts to revive the operations of none weaponry industries, but its efforts are

undercut by lack of political will and military corruption. Consequently, the NEC, which was

created almost three decades ago, has never made profit despite government injecting over

Shs40billion581 of taxpayers’ money into military-run companies and industries. In fact, various

government critics have argued that NEC was formed by regime cadres to serve as a vehicle for

siphoning public resources.582 This charge, though denied by the regime, cannot be utterly

dismissed. Various anti-corruption institutions of government like the Parliamentary Public

Accounts Committee (PAC), the Inspectorate of Government and the Auditor-General have

questioned the disappearance of government funds NEC’s operations and the downright failure by

the managers of NEC to provide any form of accountability for that. Some retired army officers

have raised muted criticisms of NEC. For instance, appearing before a parliamentary inquiry in

2009, Col. Fred Mwesigye, a former director of NEC questioned the corporation’s viability. He

argued that there was no economic value in keeping a venture that loses an equivalent of Shs1.3

billion in wear and tear of under-utilised machinery each year.583

According to the 2014 and 2015 Auditor General’s (AG) reports, NEC has incurred a total loss of

Shs 1.3 billion despite receiving a capitalization grant of Shs44.5 billion from the treasury over

the years.584 Government auditors who scrutinized its books of account could not find traces of

money the government had injected in NEC and complained of mismanagement and incompetence

581 Kyeyune, Moses., (2017) “Govt Loses 31 Billion as NEC Operates Under Losses for 30 Years.” Daily Monitor, February 14. Available online: https://www.monitor.co.ug/News/National/Govt-loses-31-billion-as-NEC-operates-under-losses-for-30-years/688334-3811998-lyev8kz/index.html (Accessed 10 February 2019) 582 Interview with Hon. Michael Kabaziruka.abid. 583 Butagira, Tabu (2016) “Brig. Odonga, Ssentongo Named NEC boss”Daily Monitor (March 22) Available online: http://www.monitor.co.ug/News/National/Brig-Ondoga--Ssentongo-named-NEC-bosses/688334-3127506-h1t2u4/index.html (Accessed 10 February 2019) 584 Uganda Auditor General’s report, 2014, 2015

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of its top managers, majority of whom are soldiers lacking skills and training in running a business

venture of that magnitude. Considering the two AG’s reports, one would expect the regime to

undertake measures to streamline the management of NEC in respect to the loss of resources in its

investments. However, to date, no government institution––be it the AG, the Parliament, the

Inspector General of Government (IGG) or the Ministry of Finance––has managed to recover the

billions of shillings that the government has lost through NEC’s investments. A report issued by

the AG in 2004 showed that NEC accumulated a loss of over Shs420 million when it engaged in

the purchase of tractors for agriculture with an Iranian company called Iran Tractor Manufacturing

Company (ITMCo). In 2015, NEC generated a total income of Shs1.2 billion, which included a

grant of Shs693 million from the government, but then reported expenses exceeding Shs1.1 billion,

representing a cash burn rate of almost 100%. At the end of that financial year, NEC recorded a

loss of Shs721 million and had Shs356 million in debts. Most of the individuals that were indebted

to NEC were either high-ranking soldiers, top political figures within the regime or companies

owned by associates of the regime. Furthermore, the report showed that some of these debtors had

not paid NEC for over ten years, signifying reluctance or outright refusal to pay. The administrators

of NEC were also faulted by the AG for their refusal to use legal means to pursue the recovery of

these funds. The report observed that:

There appears to be laxity on the part of management on debt recovery as a

number of debtors have been outstanding… …. In addition, there was no

provision for doubtful debts in case of failure of recovery. Debtors represent idle

assets, which hinders availability of funds for prompt service delivery.585

Under pressure from donors, Museveni has created several anti-corruption bodies, but his

government often engages in blatant obstruction to frustrate the work of these bodies. This has

facilitated the rise of political corruption because corrupt elites in the military and in the

government are confident of the regime’s protection from investigations by anti-graft bodies. The

regime has essentially relied on two tactics to undermine the ability of its own anti-corruption

bodies to investigate and prosecute misuse of public funds. The first is apparently a deliberate

attempt by the President and even Parliament, which is dominated by ruling party members, to

585 Auditor General’s report, 2014

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keep anti-corruption agencies financially incapacitated. This stymies the work of these agencies

because they are rendered incapable of financing their own activities. The second is the tendency

by the Museveni government to keep key positions in anti-graft agencies vacant for long periods

in order to frustrate investigations targeting trusted members of the ‘bush war’ network. For

instance, between 2009 and 2012, the position of the Inspector General of Government (IGG) was

deliberately left vacant following the acrimonious resignation of Justice Faith Mwondha. The

President never bothered to explain why he kept this position vacant for three years, which left

many observers guessing about his intentions. It should be noted that the IGG is a very sensitive

institution in Uganda because it is constitutionally mandated to “investigate or cause investigation,

arrest or cause arrest, prosecute or cause prosecution, make orders and give directions during

investigations; access and search – enter and inspect premises or property or search a person or

bank account or safe deposit box among others.”586

In short, President Museveni has shown no political will to fight corruption. Many of the cases of

military corruption in Uganda tend to involve shrewd political elites cutting deals with managers

of government parastatals or government bodies involved in the procurement of government

equipment and supplies. In most cases, syndicate corruption has been facilitated by the lack of

transparency and clear procedures in the hiring and removal of top management and board

members of government enterprises. For instance, the government refused to constitute the Board

of Directors for NEC for several years, despite continuous complaints from the Auditor General

(AG). This, per the AG’s 2004 report, meant that most investment decisions taken by NEC were

adopted without oversight and accountability from the board.

To many of Museveni’s critics, his reluctance to fight corruption appears counterintuitive,

particularly given the obvious impact of corruption on economic growth. However, what these

critics fail to consider is how corruption helps the regime. In the case of Uganda, corruption

facilitates regime survival in three different ways: First, most individuals who have been

implicated in corruption scandals are either top military elites or highly-placed political actors with

strong ties to the regime. These individuals constitute a strong constituency for political power as

they are core financiers of the ruling party who use their resources during elections to campaign

586 The Inspectorate of Government was established by the Inspector General of Government (IGG) statute in 1988. More information is available on the IGG’s website at: https://www.igg.go.ug/about/mandate/ (Accessed 10 February 2019)

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for the President and members of his party. In other words, corruption anchors the regime because

it offers opportunities for regime acolytes to gain wealth some of which is then disbursed for the

benefit of the regime. It would be illogical to assume that Museveni is willing to cut off the hand

that feeds his regime. This explains why political and military elites work tirelessly to frustrate the

efforts of anti-corruption agencies because, if these agencies were left to become effective, they

could threaten the privileges of regime elites as well as their power.587 Second, fighting corruption

generates internal opposition and discontent, which can destabilize the regime. Many individuals

in Museveni’s power circle who face corruption charges often turn to their constituencies and to

their ethnicity for protection. They position themselves as representing the interests of their ethnic

groups, which then makes it possible for them to rationalize their corrupt practices as a necessary

evil that happens in the pursuit of a fair share of the national cake for their marginalized ethnic

groups. Through this strategy, they are able to stir local resentment against any attempt by the state

to prosecute them in courts of law. For instance, when former Health Minister Maj. Gen. Jim

Muhwezi was arraigned before a Kampala court on charges of mismanaging $200 million from

GAVI and the Global Fund for tuberculosis, AIDS and malaria, he publicly described his trial as

part of a sinister strategy by the government to persecute the Bahororo, a semi-ethnic group to

which he belongs. Muhwezi later mobilized elders among the Bahororo to meet and plead with the

President to have criminal charges against him dropped.588 Sensing the danger of antagonizing

these respected elders, the government dropped the charges under unclear circumstances and

Muhwezi was re-appointed to cabinet. In some other cases, the elites have employed their ill-gotten

wealth to fund clandestine measures intended to stifle anti-corruption agencies from investigating

or prosecuting them. Therefore, among the political and military elites, there is a collective fear of

prosecution, which compels them to work in concert to defend the survival of the regime in power

because regime change poses a threat to their wealth and power.

Using corruption as a political strategy has meant that cases of corruption that once were prevalent

mostly in NEC, the army’s business conglomerate, have spread to the core military institution.

When the UPDF started to engage in large-scale procurement of military equipment and defence

supplies in the late 1990s, corruption became the order of the day. Individuals inside the regime

587 Tangri Roger & Mwenda M. Andrew (2010). ibid. 588 Mwenda, Andrew (2012) “Uganda’s Anti-Corruption Rituals” The Independent Magazine (August 29). Available online: http://andrewmwendasblog.blogspot.ca/2012/08/ugandas-anti-corruption-rituals.html (Accessed 10 February 2017)

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realized that they could swindle public funds and get away scot-free since the regime was reluctant

to enforce severe punishments. The situation got worse when the UPDF resorted to using third

parties in the procurement of military hardware and supplies. Most of its procurement deals for

aircraft, tanks and other weapons were tainted with embezzlement via kickbacks, inflated prices

and bribery.589 Later, a group of insiders composed of army officers, political elites and middlemen

connected to the regime emerged and became infamous in the procurement processes because of

the way they colluded to flout rules and win tenders. In the words of one prominent local anti-

corruption activist:

Museveni does not want to fight corruption in the army and government because

he doesn’t want to create unnecessary bad blood between himself and his

generals. He knows that they are corrupt, but he is soft on them because these

are the same generals that he uses to fight his enemies. He cannot antagonize

them because he has a fear that they can easily turn against him. But they cannot

turn against him because they know that they are corrupt so he can easily

prosecute them. So, the President and his generals find themselves in a situation

in which they all fear each other’s actions, but they need each other to survive.590

Whereas the cases highlighted above illustrate the lack of political will to fight corruption, it is the

emergence of the so-called “political untouchable” group in the military and the ruling party that

is most disturbing. This group includes family members of the President, trusted party loyalists

who fought alongside Museveni during the guerrilla war and businessmen with ties to the first

family. Not only does this group exercise its muscle to circumvent institutional control

mechanisms, it also has power to manipulate the process to ensure that the laws being introduced

are interpreted and applied to satisfy its interests. To understand the shady character of this group,

it is imperative that we place its activities within the proper context. The actions of this group

became more prominent during the period in which Uganda was involved in fighting two

insurgencies –– the LRA (in northern Uganda) and the ADF (initially in western Uganda and later

in the eastern Democratic Republic of Congo). These wars led to a sharp increase in government

spending and expanded opportunities for this elite group to engage in corruption and pillage. The

wars also offered other regime elites an opportunity to access state resources and to exploit the war

589 Tangri Roger & Mwenda M. Andrew (2010) ibid. 590 Interview with Dr. Livingstone Ssewanyana, the Executive Director Uganda Human Rights Initiative (UHRI)

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for personal gain through the procurement of military weapons, defence supplies and the creation

of “ghost” soldiers. Below I examine specific cases of corruption to show how this elite group

manipulated political institutions and rules of procedure, and even ignored or sidestepped laws and

regulations in order to engage in corrupt practices.

Civil War and Military Corruption in Uganda

As has been the case in many other African countries, Uganda has frequently found itself

confronted with mysterious defence expenditure, with little or no details released to the public or

Parliament.591 This secretive military spending has become a source of corruption and fraud

because of the opaque nature of defence transactions.592 The government’s own anti-corruption

watchdogs have been unable to hold defence officials accountable, which has meant that defence

spending in Uganda has become synonymous with serious cases of corruption. What is more

worrying is that the UPDF Act (2005), which regulates the conduct of the military, does not specify

what constitutes corrupt conduct or how cases of corruption in the defence forces can be

investigated or prosecuted.593 The oversight role in defence expenditure is left to the Parliamentary

Committee on Defence and Internal Affairs, but this committee, too, is woefully incapable of

performing this duty because of the undue influence of the Executive and the fact that it is headed

by members of the ruling party. Since the creation of this parliamentary committee the regime has

worked to ensure that it is always led by an individual with absolute loyalty to the regime leader.

As Hon. Muwanga Kivumbi, a member of this committee explains:

We have been demanding transparency and accountability in the defence sector,

but we have not succeeded because the chair of our committee is not interested

in us asking serious questions about how money is spent in the Ministry of

Defence. We even offered to organize classified hearings on defence

expenditures, but the committee chair shot us down. To be honest, no one knows

how defence officials use all that money that is allocated to them.594

591 Tangiri and Mwnda (2019), ibid. pg. 539-552 592 Flanary, Rachel, and David Watt (1999) "The State of Corruption: A Case Study of Uganda." Third World Quarterly 20, no. 3: 515-36. 593 The UPDF Act, 2005 594 Interview with Hon. Muwanga Kivumbi. ibid.

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According to the 2013/14 budget, Uganda’s defence spending stood at Shs1 trillion, a third of

which, according to some lawmakers, was hidden under suspicious classified expenditure to evade

parliamentary scrutiny. Raising concern was the fact that the amount allocated for classified

expenditure for the 2013/2014 financial year had doubled from the previous year, all this while

Uganda was experiencing relative peace following the end of civil war in the northern and western

parts of the country. Furthermore, in the 2015/2016 budget, Uganda increased its defence

expenditure, again this time to Shs1.2 trillion, overtaking Kenya and Tanzania to become East

Africa’s highest military spender in that financial year.595 In the 2016/2017 budget, defence

spending rose steeply to Shs1.9 trillion. Later, lawmakers on the Defence and Internal Affairs

Committee revealed that, while scrutinizing the defence budget, they unearthed a secretive plot

involving the transfer of Shs500 billion from the national treasury to the Ministry of Defence

without the approval or knowledge of Parliament. 596 When questioned by lawmakers, the Ministry

of Finance admitted that the money was ‘mistakenly’ allocated for defence spending, but

lawmakers on the committee, including Muwanga Kivumbi, have claimed that the money was

clandestinely planned to be spent on “political things like acquiring espionage equipment.”597

Hon. Kaps Fungaroo, another MP who sits on this committee notes:

The defence budget has always had problems. Whenever we scrutinize it every

year, we find irregularities in the budgeting process. A few years back, the

government used to tell us that classified expenditure is used for buying weapons

to fight the war in the north, but now the war is over and the UPDF peacekeepers

in Somalia are paid and equipped by donors but the budget for classified

expenditure has doubled. We know the truth. Classified expenditure is a channel

of money for ‘eating’ by the top executives. They use it to get money and then

take it somewhere for personal use.598

As early as the 1990s, questionable military expenditure started to attract the attention of the

595 The Nation (( April 15, 2014) “Uganda, Burundi leads EAC military Spending” Available online: http://www.nation.co.ke/news/Uganda--Burundi-leads-East-Africa-military-spending/1056-2280800-hx0ovx/index.html (Accessed March 24, 2018) 596 Matsiko Haggai (2017) “MPs Catch Sh500bn ‘Mistakenly’ Given to Defense Budget” The Independent Febuary

13 Available online: https://www.independent.co.ug/mps-catch-shs500bn-mistakenly-given-defense-budget/(Accessed March 24, 2018)

597 Matsiko Haggai (2017). Ibid. P.16 598 Interview with Hon Kaps Fungaroo, former Shadow Minister for Defence and a member on the Parliamentary Committee on Defence and Internal Affairs (August 21, 2016)

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opposition, the press and the donor community when the government started purchasing expensive

military hardware to fight the LRA rebellion in northern Uganda. The government was concerned

that Kony’s rebels were growing in strength and wanted to boost the UPDF’s firepower and combat

readiness to launch new offensive operations against the insurgents. Considering the amounts of

money involved, unscrupulous politicians and businessmen with connections to the regime began

jostling to win a tender to supply Russian-made helicopter gunships. Among those vying for the

contract was Emmanuel Katto, a Kampala businessman and one of the ruling party’s chief

financiers and whose wife is a sister to then-army Chief of Staff, Maj. Gen. James Kazini. Katto

was a promoter of Consolidated Sales Corporation (CSC), a company he claimed was incorporated

in the British Virgin Islands. To increase his chances of getting the contract, Kato submitted a joint

bid with Kwame Ruyondo, a foster child of Museveni’s who was employed at Caleb International,

a company owned by Museveni’s younger brother, Gen. Salim Saleh. At the same time, Saleh was

the overall military commander of the counterinsurgency operations against the LRA in the north.

Museveni, who also held the portfolio of defence minister at the time, is reported to have personally

offered the contract to CSC in disregard of the rules regulating the procurement of public assets.599

When the helicopters were finally delivered to Uganda, they were in bad shape, and not combat-

worthy. Some concerned defence officials leaked information to members of Parliament and the

media, sparking criticism and calls for an inquiry into the transaction. Facing a barrage of

questions, Museveni agreed to constitute a judicial inquiry to investigate the transaction. The

inquiry later discovered that several illegalities were committed in the procurement process. First,

the company which had been awarded the tender never actually existed at the time it signed a

contract with the Ministry of Defence. Second, the CSC was not registered in the British Virgin

Islands as it claimed in its bid. It was registered in Uganda as a foreign company operating on Plot

8/10 Kampala Road, in the heart of Uganda’s capital city. Third, it emerged that CSC had been

registered several months after the helicopter contract had been signed. Fourth, it was discovered

that CSC lied when it described itself as the seller and supplier of helicopters since it was a mere

broker with no links to the suppliers in Belarus, where the helicopters were bought. The inquiry

also discovered that the government had paid a grossly inflated price of $12.2 million for four

helicopters as the company purchased them from Belarus, not Russia as it had earlier claimed, for

599 Tripp, M. Aili., (2010) Museveni’s Uganda: Paradoxes of Power in a Hybrid Regime. Lynne Rienner Publishers, London, UK.

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just $4.7m.600 More so, the inquiry uncovered disturbing operations of a high-level network of

corrupt elites in Uganda. For instance, under interrogation, Mr Kato admitted that he lobbied top

military generals, including the President’s brother Saleh, who was paid $800,000 as commission

fees for supporting the award of the contract to CSC. In his letter dated July 29, 1996, Katto also

promised to pay Ruyondo 10% for every contract that CSC won from the Ministry of Defence if

Ruyondo used his influence to the benefit of CSC.601 In its final report, the judicial inquiry

recommended criminal prosecution of the President’s brother as well as businessman Katto, but

Museveni insisted that the blame was with the business associates of his brother “who gave us bad

helicopters.”602 To date, the helicopter gunships in question have never been deployed for combat

missions; experts described them as worthless. The government ignored the recommendations of

its own inquiry, so that none of the suspects adversely named has ever been prosecuted, a clear

sign of lack of political leadership and commitment to fight corruption at the highest levels. It is

for this reason that many members of Parliament from Uganda’s northern region believe that most

of the money allocated by Parliament to buy equipment to fight the LRA insurgency ended up in

the pockets of regime elites and top military officers. This level of blatant corruption also affects

the effectiveness of UPDF as a fighting force. As one MP says, one consequence of this corruption

in the military was the long duration of the war in the north:

When the UPDF was fighting (the) LRA we approved a lot of money in classified

expenditure thinking that it was meant for buying weapons. When we visited the

north, we could not see the weapons the money had bought. In fact, when we

visited Mogadishu (Somalia) as a Committee on Defence and Internal Affairs,

we were told by some soldiers that the only time they have gotten better arms

and better uniform is when they have been deployed in Somalia because it is

AMISOM603 supplying them to UPDF under the supervision of the EU and

US.604

600 More information on this scandal is available website of the World Bank Stolen Assent Initiative (STAR):

http://star.worldbank.org/corruption-cases/node/18871 Accessed March 24, 2018) 601 Emma Kato’s letter dated July 29, 1996. 602 Wakabi, Wairagala (2000) “Did Saleh Earn $0.8m in Helicopter Deal?” The East African, 17 July; (2000c), “Museveni 'chose' Military Suppliers”, The East African, 21 July; (2000d), 'Uganda in Army Tender Scam', The East African, 24 July. 603 The African Union Mission in Somalia (AMISOM) is a UN-approved peacekeeping mission operated by the African Union. More information available on Amisom official website: http://amisom-au.org 604 Interview with Hon Kaps Fungaroo, ibid.

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Other military procurements carried out at the height of the LRA insurgency in the north also shed

light on how the war benefited private businessmen, military officers and regime elites who,

through influence peddling, offered contracts, guarantees and favors to companies in which they

had a stake. It should be recalled that by 1997 the LRA insurgency, which started as a small

resistance by disgruntled Acholi youth, had developed into a full-blown civil war. The government

of Sudan under Omar al-Bashir engaged in a proxy war with Uganda by supporting the LRA. In

response, the Ugandan government openly supported and sheltered the Sudan People's Liberation

Army (SPLA), then a rebel group fighting the Khartoum regime.605 The proxy war landscape

changed in the late 1990s when Sudanese war planes started conducting aerial bombings in

northern Uganda. To counter the Sudanese bombers, the Ugandan government decided to acquire

fighter jets to patrol its northern border region. Without any tendering or bidding process, the

Ministry of Defence contracted an Israel businessman to supply MIG-21 fighter jets. The said

businessman supplied outdated Soviet-model fighter jets that had a limited bomb carriage capacity

and a non-functional radar guidance system. Later, it emerged that the jets had a small fuel tank

that could not support a return flight from Gulu airbase in northern Uganda to Juba in South Sudan.

What was even more embarrassing to the Ugandan government was that two of the four jets

supplied came with a single wing.606 The government was forced to incur extra cost to ship the jets

back to Israel for refurbishment and remodelling at Israel Aircraft Industries (IAI), a state-owned

aerospace and aviation manufacturer. The Ministry of Defence spent a total of $50 million to

acquire the jets but it was discovered that the jets had been grossly overvalued. A realistic price

was estimated to be $10 million.607 The government could not sue the businessman because the

agreement it had reached with him was informal and vague about how funds could be recovered

in the event the agreement was breached.

As the scandal surrounding the acquisition of the MIG-21 jets unfolded, the LRA continued to

terrorize villages in northern Uganda, killing civilians in large numbers. Uganda’s military

planners were concerned that the delayed acquisition of fighter jets and the publicity the scandal

had attracted would embolden Sudan to conduct more air raids in the north. As a short-term

measure, the government decided to acquire 100mm anti-aircraft guns to shoot down Sudanese

605 Gerard, Prunier (2004) “Rebel Movements and Proxy Warfare: Uganda, Sudan and the Congo (1986-99).” African Affairs London:103/412, pp. 359-83 606 Mukasa, Robert & Henry Ochieng (1999) “Defence bought Shs 50bn junk fighter jets”, The Monitor, 8 July. 607 The East African (Nairobi) (2000), 'Ugandan Middlemen Frustrated Army Deal' 15 May

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fighter jets.608 Another Israel businessman was contracted to supply anti-aircraft guns from South

Korea. These guns were finally brought to Uganda and deployed in the north between December

1997 and January 1998, but they malfunctioned and could not shoot any of Sudan’s Antonov

bombers.609 It later emerged that the businessman had supplied faulty guns that needed

refurbishment before they could be deployed. As with the MIG-21 fighter jets, the government

could not sue the offending businessman because the agreement with him was an informal

understanding.

Owing to the parliamentary scrutiny and public embarrassment the two scandals generated, one

would assume that the Museveni regime would be forced to employ adequate measures to avoid

being conned by unscrupulous middlemen. However, this was not the case because of the well-

established patronage system in which personal interests link businessmen, politicians and military

elites together. Military officers and their business associates conspire to profit in procurement

deals through exploiting their personal ties to the regime. And this practice has mushroomed in the

absence of institutions to provide oversight--that is, to demand accountability from those in charge

of military procurements. It is not therefore surprising that even after the fraudulent acquisition of

the MIG-21fighter jets and the 100mm anti-aircraft guns, in December 1998 the Ministry of

Defence contracted another consortium of Israeli and Ugandan businessmen to supply a

consignment of 62 tanks to be deployed in northern Uganda. They supplied all 62 T-55s tanks, of

which only eight were operational on arrival in Uganda. It later emerged that the Ugandan

government had proceeded to acquire the tanks against the advice of its own engineer at the

Ministry of Works who inspected the tanks before they were shipped in from Eastern Europe.610

Again, it was Ugandan and Israeli middlemen and their political associates who benefitted from

this duplicitous transaction.611 The government paid $28 million for the tanks and the middlemen

walked away with $4 million in commission fees from the Ministry of Defence. Before deploying

the tanks, the government had to fly in four Israeli engineers to recondition them at a cost to

Ugandan taxpayers.

608 Mwenda, Andrew & Tangiri, Tangiri, (2003). ibid. p.46 609 Tripp, M. Ali., (2010). Ibid.p.16 610 IRIN news (December 18, 1998) “Tank Purchase Questioned” (December 18) Available online: http://www.irinnews.org/report/4181/uganda-tank-purchase-questioned (Accessed March 25, 2017) 611 Tripp, M. Aili., (2010). Ipid. P. 36

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Further incidents of military corruption are demonstrated by the 1995 saga of a C-130 Hercules

military transport aircraft.612 During the same year, this plane experienced a fire incident while

landing at an airbase in Cairo. The Ugandan government wanted to repair the plane and four

companies submitted bids to do the repair work. All the four bidding companies were certified by

the manufacturer as technically competent to do the repair work. The government, however,

ignored all the four bidders and the Hercules was repaired in France by a Swiss company called

Aviation Support and Trading Organisation Ltd (AVISTO), which had not put in a bid. AVISTO

was paid $12 million, four times more than the $1.8 million to $2.6 million quoted by the four

bidders. Moreover, it later emerged that the repairers collected spare parts of the C-130, valued at

$900,000, which had been kept at Entebbe, meaning that AVISTO may not have spent money

buying new spare parts as had been suggested. When the plane was eventually brought back to

Uganda, it flew several times between Entebbe and Kisangani in Congo transporting personnel

and other material supplies to Ugandan soldiers there. Soon the plane developed mechanical

problems and was grounded again. AVISTO sent its engineers to Uganda to monitor the plane’s

mechanical condition, and for their services they were paid another $1.3 million.613 Government

engineers and pilots were reportedly angry at the sheer level of corruption involved in repairing

the C-130 that had put the lives of Ugandan servicemen at risk by flying a plane in dangerous

mechanical condition. They wrote a report to the President providing details about “the inflated

costs of repairing the plane” and the technical problems it was experiencing. In their report, they

faulted defence officials whom they accused of acting against national interests.”614 As is the norm,

especially on matters of high-level corruption, the President never gave a public response to that

report.

Once the government’s Hercules C-130 transport aircraft was grounded, senior government

officials, members of the first family, military leaders and private businessmen with ties to the

regime sought to profit financially through government contracts by influencing the award of

contracts to transport military supplies to Ugandan soldiers who, alongside Rwandan troops, had

612 Kaheru Simone (1999) “Nopark Mp Quizzed Over Army Plane Repair Costs” The New Vision, May 9. Available online: http://allafrica.com/stories/199905090025.html (Accessed March 25, 2017) 612 Tripp, M. Aili., (2010). Ibid. P. 36 613 New Vision (November 7, 1999) “Government Spent 2bn In a Year to Run Air Cargo Plane”,. Available online: http://allafrica.com/stories/199911070049.html (Accessed March 25, 2017) 614 Mwenda, Andrew & Tangiri, Tangiri, (2003). Ibid. pg 543.

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invaded the Democratic Republic of Congo.615 Troops from the two countries entered Congo under

the pretext that they hoped to flush out rebels operating near their borders, and accusing Congo’s

government of supporting the rebels.616 Transporting troops, food supplies and ammunition from

Uganda to the Congolese town of Kisangani, which served as a joint occupation base for the armies

of the two countries, was a very lucrative business. Air Alexander, another airline owned by the

President’s brother made a lot of money transporting soldiers and military supplies from Entebbe

to Kisangani.617 The excessive profit Saleh earned from providing this service attracted the

attention of other military generals and politicians. Later, Andrew Rugasira, a prominent Kampala

businessman known for his closeness to the Museveni regime, surfaced with a Russian-made

Ilyushin-76 cargo plane, which he leased from a Ukrainian company called UCA.618 In September

1998, the Ministry of Defence awarded Rugasira a contract to transport supplies to Ugandan troops

in Congo at a cost below Saleh’s Air Alexander. Rugasira’s rivals unsuccessfully protested this

move, alleging that he had bribed military officials to win the contract, but the Ministry of Defence

stood its ground. Later, when defence officials were tasked by a judicial inquiry to explain their

decision to sign a contract with Rugasira, they argued that he offered cheaper transport services

than Air Alexander. However, they could not explain why they continued to hire Rugasira’s

Ilyushin-76 and Antonov-12 even when the government’s own C-130 Hercules had been repaired

and was in good mechanical condition. In documents made public by the government in 2001, the

inquiry found that the Ministry of Defence had “exorbitantly paid Rugasira $4,486,805 to transport

soldiers and their supplies between October 1988 and March 1999 to and from Congo.”619

Drawing from the above explanation, there is a clear inclination by regime elites and military

officials to profit from state contracts in blatant disregard of conflict-of-interest principles. In fact,

as the overall commander of the operation against the LRA rebels in the north, Saleh is alleged to

have awarded his own company a Shs400 million tender to supply food and other commodities to

the UPDF in Gulu.620 Many politicians from northern Uganda posit that the tendency by UPDF

generals to exploit the war for personal gain is the reason the war lasted as long as it did as there

615 Fahey, Dan (2009) ‘‘Explaining Uganda’s Involvement in the DR Congo, 1996-2008.’’ Paper presented at the annual meeting of the ISA’s 50th Annual Convention ‘‘Exploring the Past, Anticipating the Future,’’ New York Marriott Marquis, New York, February 15, 2009. 616 Vlassenroot, Koen, and Timothy Raeymaekers (2004) ‘‘The Politics of Rebellion and Intervention in Ituri: The Emergence of a New Political Complex?’’ African Affairs 103, no. 412: 47584. 617 Vlassenroot, Koen, and Sandrine Perrot (2012) ‘‘Ugandan Military Entrepreneurialism on the Congo Border.’’ In African Conflicts and Informal Power, Big Men and Networks, ed. Mats Utas. London: Zed Books. 618 Mwenda, Andrew & Tangiri, Tangiri, (2003). Ibid. p. 449-46 619 This information is contained in the evidence presented to the judicial commission of inquiry into alleged exploitation of wealth in the DRC, Kampala, August 2001 as well as its final report. 620 Vlassenroot , Koen and Perrot Sandrine et. Al. (2012) “Doing business out of war. An analysis of the UPDF's presence in the Democratic Republic of Congo”, Journal of Eastern African Studies, 6:1, 2-21.

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was a racketeering network with a subjective interest in the war. As one lawmaker from northern

Uganda explains:

UPDF generals were making a lot of money through corruption. They did not

want the war to end because it would mean undercutting their source of wealth.

They opposed every attempt to start negotiations with Kony. Otherwise, that war

would have ended long ago if there were no people profiteering from it.621

‘Ghost’ Soldiers Scam

Perhaps no case demonstrates how military elites profited from war better than the phenomenon

of ‘ghost’ soldiers that was widespread at the peak of the insurgency in northern Uganda. Military

generals were reported to have engaged in the creation of ‘ghost’ soldiers on the army’s payroll

and pocketed over $1 million per month in salaries for phantom soldiers.622 No serious or prompt

action was taken after this massive fraud was brought to the attention of the President. The problem

of ‘ghost’ soldiers emerged as early as 1997 when information about it was leaked to the media by

a concerned member of the UPDF High Command, the highest decision-making body of the army.

It was reported that the President convened an impromptu meeting of the UPDF High Command

at the army headquarters in Bombo on June 3, 2003, to discuss a member’s bombshell allegation

that large sums of money had been paid as salaries for phantom soldiers.623 An investigative

committee headed by then-Defence Minister Amama Mbabazi was constituted to probe the matter

and report to the High Command. The committee found that senior military officers benefited from

the war by padding the army’s payroll with names of dead soldiers, otherwise called ‘ghost’

soldiers. Several high-ranking military officials, including Gen. James Kazini, Gen. Salim Saleh,

Gen. Henry Tumukunde, were alleged to have participated in this scam. Other officers involved

included Brig. Steven Kashaka, Gen. Nakibus Lakara, Gen. Andrew Gutti, Gen. Julius Oketa,

Colonel Poteli Kivuna, Brig. John Mugume, Brig. Fred Tolit and Col Mark Kodili.624 Gen. Kazini

and Saleh were blamed for having been the architects of the scam because the two officers

621 Interview with Hon. Reagan Okumu, MP for Aswa County (August 11, 2016) 622 Aljazeera ((October 13, 2007) “Uganda Acts Against Ghost Workers” Available online: http://www.aljazeera.com/news/africa/2007/10/200852513319184905.html (Accessed March 25, 2017) 623 New Vision (October 20, 2009) “Commanders Confess to Existence of Ghost Soldiers”. Available online: http://www.newvision.co.ug/new_vision/news/1254656/ghost-soldiers-mainly-north(Accessed March 25, 2017) 624 New Vision (May 29., 2005) “Tumukunde Arrested over Media Remarks” Available online: http://www.newvision.co.ug/new_vision/news/1124244/tumukunde-arrested-media-remarks (Accessed March 25, 2017)

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commanded the UPDF’s pacification campaign in northern Uganda between 1996 and 1998 and

recruited many individuals into the so-called Local Defence Unit (LDU) in areas of Gulu, Kitgum

and Pader districts. Furthermore, the investigators revealed that the government had lost Shs600

billion over the years in payments to soldiers who never existed.625 The scam was a widespread

case of syndicate corruption involving military officers and bureaucrats in the Ministry of Defence.

Subsequently, Kazini was arrested and charged in court, although he escaped conviction. He died

under mysterious circumstances in 2009. Some reports suggest that he might have been

assassinated because he “rattled the army top brass with a claim that the so-called ‘ghost soldiers’

money had been sanctioned by President Museveni to pay-off Congolese rebel leaders.”626

The reluctance of Museveni to act when the case was brought to his attention is puzzling. Although

Kazini was later tried by the court martial over the scam, his trial took place only after he became

vocal against the Museveni’s regime. Moreover, when the scandal became public, many officers

revealed publicly that they had warned Museveni about the existence of ‘ghost’ soldiers earlier,

but the President failed to act. For instance, Betty Bigombe, the former LRA peace negotiator,

revealed that she told Museveni about the possible existence of ghost soldiers in the late 1990s

when the UPDF suffered heavy combat losses against the LRA. Brig. Noble Mayombo, then Chief

of Military Intelligence, issued a report in which he revealed that during the “Operation Iron Fist”

campaign against Kony, he discovered that half of the army’s 4th Division was composed of

‘soldiers’ who never existed. He was then forced to implore the army leadership to deploy an extra

4,000 soldiers to support the operation.627 Likewise, other army officers such as Gitta Musoke, a

UPDF paymaster during the Ugandan invasion of Congo, said that he discovered cases of ‘ghost’

soldiers when he was a paymaster in Congo. Gitta then survived an assassination attempt when he

tried to expose a racket of senior officers who had padded the army’s payroll with dead soldiers.628

He informed the President about it, but Museveni did not act. Gitta was himself instead arrested,

tortured and jailed by his bosses, who accused him of backstabbing them before the President.629

625 Mwenda, Andrew & Tangiri, Tangiri, (2003). Ibid. 626 Mwenda, Andrew (2009) “Who killed Gen. Kazini, and why?” The Independent Magazine, November 24.

Available online: https://www.independent.co.ug/killed-gen-kazini/ 627Other army officers such as Sergeant Gitta Musoko have revealed that they shared information with the president about the problem of ghost soldiers, but the president did not do anything to stop it. 628 Kibirige, David (2001) “UPDF Officer Tries to Kill Congo Paymaster Ghosts On Payroll” The Monitor, May 5 Available online: http://allafrica.com/stories/200105070054.html 629 Atuhaire, B. Alex (2005) “Paymaster in Trouble for Exposing Ghost Soldiers” The Monitor, August 12. Available online: http://allafrica.com/stories/200508110955.html

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Even when it became clear that corruption in defence spending was eroding the UPDF’s capacity

to fight the LRA and undermining public trust in the army, the President did not act against corrupt

military generals. This led his critics to argue that either he feared stirring discontent in the army

by arresting corrupt generals or simply condoned their actions. This failure to act angered the

elders in war-ravaged northern Uganda. They accused Museveni of protecting Kazini, the overall

commander of the counterinsurgency operation. They saw Kazini as more interested in reaping

financial dividends out of the war than ending it. This charge was made more credible by various

reports of corrupt transactions between military officers and other state actors. For instance, in

1997 banking details of the UPDF’s 4th Division exposed embezzlement of public funds and

pillage inside the army. It was revealed that Kazini’s personal bank account had a monthly turnover

of Shs800 million while the official bank account for the division was nearly empty. Funds for the

division went through his personal bank account.630When a disagreement emerged between Kazini

and Col. Gerald Osele, the 4th Division’s paymaster, the latter was found dead. His close relatives

have since questioned the circumstances surrounding his death, and a parliamentary committee

constituted to investigate his death concluded that he was killed because he “refused to cooperate

with his bosses in embezzling soldiers’ funds.”631

The Museveni regime has thus shown that his ruling strategy does not depend on establishing

strong restrictions to prevent army officers from illegally amassing wealth. The politicisation of

the military has also affected transparency and accountability, making it difficult to curb

private/family or clique commercial interests. Some officers have complained that the army is not

an institution that runs on established laws and procedures but rather on the whims and wishes of

the Commander-in-Chief. For instance, while appearing before a committee investigating ‘ghost’

soldiers, Kazini described an army that lacked internal mechanisms to determine the correct

number of soldiers or guns it had. He stated that:

You know we have been running the army because of the good politics of the

President. Because that is how LDU (Local Defence Units) came in. You get

surprised, where is the army? AC, fanya LDU, hapa, andika...Bunyoro/Buganda

LDU’ [Army Commander get Local Defence Units here. Write documents work

on Bunyoro/Buganda Local Defence Units.] Just like that. The army has been

630 The Monitor, 22 July 1997. 631 Parliament of Uganda (2001) report quoted in: Mwenda and Tangiri (2003). Ibid. p.45

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surviving on the good will of the President and his politics, of people. Fanya hii,

Fanya hii [do this, do that.] But where is the standing army? But remember when

the RPAs (Rwanda Patriotic Army) went. About 4,000 soldiers deserted at once.

We were all here, ‘nobody said ‘let us verify strength… these people have gone,

they should be counted as AWOL (absent without official leave), then their

numbers will be known. Can anybody tell us how many RPAs left the army? It

is just an imagined number from the press. But somebody should have said, ‘No,

I think they have escaped, here are their names–Kalekyezi, Kagame…’ there is

no record of the RPA who escaped. We should have had it in the data. Nobody

had it.632

As early as 2002, lawmakers and donors were piling pressure on Museveni’s government to

prosecute officers responsible for creating and benefiting from ‘ghost’ soldiers. Lawmakers from

northern and eastern Uganda, the two regions worst hit by the LRA rebellion, started boycotting

Parliament in protest over the failure to hold military officials culpable. In response, the President

relieved Kazini of his duties as Army Commander and sent him to Nigeria for an advanced military

course.633 As the issue escalated, a disagreement between Kazini and Museveni over the issues of

‘ghost soldiers’ became public, setting off a media frenzy in which newspapers and radio stations

speculated about the possible genesis of the dispute between the two ‘bush war’ comrades. Kazini

was later recalled from Nigeria and arraigned before a court martial on charges of fraud and

financial misappropriation. He and 28 other officers were accused of inserting 440 names of

phantom soldiers in the army’s 507 Brigade and misappropriating Shs200 million meant for

soldiers’ salaries. However, it is noteworthy that Kazini’s trial happened only after he became

critical of Museveni’s rule. He is reported to have irritated the President when he gave several

media interviews accusing Museveni of having been previously aware of the existence of phantom

soldiers. Unlike Kazini, the other top officers accused of a similar crime kept their silence and had

the charges against them dropped. In fact, most of them have since been promoted to higher ranks

and now occupy prominent positions in the army. For instance, Henry Tumukunde, at the time a

brigadier, is now a lieutenant-general and the minister in charge of security. Nakibus Lakara, then

632 Kobusingye, O. Olive (2010) The Correct Line? Uganda Under Museveni. Author House P.171-172 633 Atuhaire, B. Alex (August 2, 2003) "Kazini Going to Nigeria” The Monitor. Available online: http://www.monitor.co.ug/News/Education/688336-766374-kgh0ye/index.html (Accessed 22, August 2018) New Vision ( December 1, 2003) “Kazini to Face Court Martial” Available online: http://www.newvision.co.ug/new_vision/news/1254989/kazini-court-martial (Accessed 22, August 2018)

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a brigadier, is now a major-general and the deputy chief coordinator of Operation Wealth Creation

(OWC), a multibillion shillings poverty alleviation programme. Julius Oketta, then a brigadier,

was promoted to the rank of major-general before his death in 2016. John Mugume, then a colonel

is now a Brigadier and serves as the current General Manager of defence forces shop. Fred Tolit,

then a Colonel was promoted to Brigadier and is now Ugandan Defence Attaché to Burundi and

Andrew Gutti, then a colonel has risen through the ranks to become a lieutenant-general and also

head of the army’s general court martial.

These officers were at first suspended together with their boss (Kazini). But, unlike Kazini, they

remained loyal to the regime, which seems to explain why they were reinstated to their positions

in the army after the charges against them had been dropped. Because the state has enough

incriminating evidence on the involvement of these officers in the ‘ghost’ soldiers’ scam, the

officers have to dance to the tune of the regime leader. In what was widely seen as punishment for

appearing disloyal to the regime leader, Kazini was separately tried for disobeying lawful orders

and for moving troops without the permission of the Commander-in-Chief, charges that attract a

death penalty or a lengthy jail term. He denied all the charges and launched an appeal with the

Constitutional Court.634 Justice Steven Kavuma of the Constitutional Court suspended the court-

martial case against Kazini, pending the disposal of Kazini’s petition challenging the

constitutionality of his trial by the army court.635

Gen. Kazini’s situation sheds light on how Museveni has used corruption to punish acts of

disloyalty and reward loyalty in the army. Army officers who become critical of the regime must

be willing to pay a heavy price, including house arrest, prosecution by the court martial, dismissal

from the army, and perhaps even violent death. Indeed, before the final court ruling on his case

was delivered, Kazini died mysteriously in November 2009. The state claimed that he was killed

by his mistress, Lydia Draru, but family members maintain that his death was a political hit.636

Later, with Kazini’s body lying in the casket before him, President Museveni left mourners

634 Imaka, Isaac (2014) “Judiciary: Alook at the Career of Justice Kavuma” Daily Monitor, 4 April. Available online: http://www.monitor.co.ug/SpecialReports/Judiciary--A-look-at-the-career-of-Justice-Kavuma/688342-2270504-i0b47y/index.html (Accessed 22, August 2018) 635 Afedraru, Lominda (2009) “Judge saves Kazini from court martial”, The Monitor, April 16. 636 Wanabwa Richard (2013) “Kazini Family Wants Fresh Death Probe” The Monitor, November 10. Available online: http://www.monitor.co.ug/News/National/Kazini-family-wants-fresh-death-probe/688334-2067046-kndqoyz/index.html

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gathered at a Kampala church for a requiem mass bewildered when he said that “Kazini had taken

himself to God.”637

To further understand how corruption sustains the Museveni regime, we should explore the

struggle for leadership positions among top army officers. President Museveni regularly signals

indifference to (and sometimes encourages) internal bickering among his top generals by letting

them jostle for influential posts within the security agencies. Ugandan military officers informally

speak of ‘wet’ security organs and ‘dry’ security organs. ‘Wet’ security organs are those that are

operationally independent, report directly to the President, and command a large budget. Not only

do army generals leading ‘wet’ security agencies receive lucrative financial allowances, they also

enjoy the daily attention of the President. Examples of these organs include the Special Forces

Command (SFC), the External Security Organization (ESO), the Internal Security Organization

(ISO), the Chieftaincy of Military Intelligence (CMI), the Directorate of Command and Control

(DCC), the Military Police (MP) and the Uganda Police Force (UPF). ‘Dry’ security organs, on

the other hand, are perceived to be less significant in terms of financial benefits and political roles.

They include, among others, the Anti-Rustling Force, the Special Wildlife Integrated Force, the

Marine Force, the Directorate of Health Services and the Directorate of Military Research Centre.

In the struggle to influence the President’s choices, army generals often manipulate the media to

blackmail each other. Surprisingly, the President tends to let his generals engage in blackmail

against one other so long as they do not end up looking smarter or more powerful than the principal.

For instance, Gen. Kale Kayihura, the head of police, and Brig. Kasirye Gwanga, the presidential

adviser on security in Buganda region, do not see eye-to-eye.638 The latter has consistently used

the media to criticise the former’s failures in the police. Kayihura is also at loggerheads with Gen.

David Sejusa, the former coordinator of intelligence agencies. The latter penned a bombshell letter

in 2013 in which he accused Kayihura of hatching a plot to assassinate other generals opposed to

the “Muhoozi Project”.639 The ‘Muhoozi Project’ is an alleged plot by Museveni to have his son

Muhoozi Kainerugabe replace him as president. Before his death, Gen. Aronda Nyakairima, who

was the interior minister, also reportedly had a bad relationship with Kayihura. Nyakairima’s

637 Mwenda, Andrew (2009) “Who Killed Gen. Kazini and Why?” The Independent, November 24. Available online: https://www.independent.co.ug/killed-gen-kazini/ (Accessed 22, August 2018). 638 Newspost (2017) “Gwanga Blames the Increased Criminal Gangs on Kayihura”, April 26. Available online: http://newz.ug/kasirye-ggwanga-blames-the-increased-criminal-gangs-on-kayihura (Accessed 22, August 2018) 639 Interview with Felix Kulayigye.ibid.

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mysterious death in 2015 led to speculation about the possible cause of his death.640 Through their

actions, military generals struggle to outdo one another in the public show of loyalty to the

President. Sometimes their disagreements spill over into the public and attract the attention of the

media and Parliament. For instance, in May 2017, an intelligence officer working with ISO filed

a case against government in a Kampala High Court, alleging that he was brutally tortured by

police interrogators after they futilely tried to bribe him with Shs1billion to implicate Security

Minister Lt. Gen. Henry Tumukunde in the murder of the Assistant Inspector General of Police

Andrew Felix Kaweesi. Mr Kaweesi was regarded as one of the rising stars in the Uganda Police

Force until March 27, 2017, when he was gruesomely murdered in broad daylight by unknown

gunmen in the heart of Kampala.641 The cold-blooded and cynical way in which Kaweesi was

assassinated shocked millions of Ugandans, and Gen. Tumukunde was the only general who

appeared in the press questioning the police conduct and insinuating that the nature of Kaweesi’s

murder points to well-trained assassins with high “levels of courage” and “decisive execution of a

task.”642 Furthermore, during the 2016 election, Gen. Tumukunde, appeared on the national

television and accused Gen. Katumba Wamala, the army chief, of attempting to assassinate him

during a chaotic youth parliamentary election in which Tumukunde was shot in the leg.643

Tumukunde complained that Wamala had ordered junior officers on the ground “to shoot me on

sight.”644In response, Wamala rushed to the media to deny the accusation. He noted:

…This was a competition which had pitted two sons of high-ranking military

officers…. the message I sent was: ‘Go to Fort Portal ensure that there is no

military personnel interfering with election of the youth.’… Henry [Tumukunde]

should explain what he was doing in the youth elections. He is not a youth; he is

640 Kalinaki, Daniel (2015) “Nyakairima death: Radio Katwe, social media explode with conspiracy theories” The East African, September 19. Available online: http://www.theeastafrican.co.ke/news/What-really-killed-Gen-Aronda-/2558-2876782-3lisrwz/index.html (Accessed 22, August 2018) 641 Ivan Okuda (2017) “Kaweesi’s Murder: Police offered me Shs1b to Pin Tumukunde-Suspect” The Monitor, May 23. Available online: http://www.monitor.co.ug/News/National/Kaweesi-murder--Police-offered-me-Shs1b-to-pin-Tumukunde/688334-3938160-c7qhckz/index.html (Accessed 22, August 2018) 642 Kalyegira, Timonthy (2017) “Kawesi’s Murder: High-State Intrigue” The Monitor, March 20. Available online: http://www.monitor.co.ug/OpEd/Commentary/Kaweesi--murder-Kayihura-Uganda/689364-3856688-d6ot5/index.html 643KFM (2016) “Tumukunde accuses CDF of ordering his shooting” (March 1) Available online: http://kfm.co.ug/news/lt-gen-tumukunde-accuses-cdf-of-ordering-his-shooting.html 644 NTV-Uganda (2017) “Major Tumukunde Injured in Youth Election chaos, Accuses Gen. Wamala of Complicity” Available online: http://www.ntv.co.ug/news/politics/02/mar/2016/maj-gen-tumukunde-injured-youth-election-fracas-accuses-gen-wamala#sthash.QyaKfcpC.dpbs

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not a returning officer. Yes, he had a son there [in the race], but were all parents

invited to go there to fend for their sons?645

With such in-fighting spilling over into the public, one would assume that the President would

issue an ultimatum to his generals to bury the hatchet. But that is not Museveni’s way of doing

things. He fails to be clear and consistent. Therefore, unable to navigate the contradictions of

Museveni’s decisions, generals rely on their proximity to the President to try to gauge his mind.

Museveni plays his generals against each other, encouraging competition among them, so long as

everyone demonstrates overreaching loyalty to him. Museveni then tilts one way or the other to

defuse the disagreement from escalating further and only makes public comments about these

factions as a way of reminding his generals that there is only one person in his regime worthy of

public attention: himself. President Museveni is therefore presiding over a typical neopatrimonial

regime. Scholars who study Africa’s neopatrimonial regimes point out that in such regimes

political struggle “remains a conflict between the rule of law and the rule of a person.”646 In

patrimonial and personalized political systems, real power and decision making takes place outside

the formal institutions, and decisions about resource allocations are often a preserve of “big men”

supported by a network of family members and cronies “who follow a logic of personal and

particularist interest rather than national betterment”647). These networks “reach from the very top

through dyads connecting the big man, MPs, chiefs, party officials, and government bureaucrats

to villagers.”648 However, what these scholars fail to consider is the fact that while these states

may lacks effective formal institutions of accountability, their actions are in some ways

constrained by “residue” social structure (See chapters VII and IV).

Military Corruption and the Plunder of Congolese Resources

In what has been described as the “Great African War”649 troops from Uganda and Rwanda

invaded the Democratic Republic of Congo (then called Zaire) in August 1998. The overall

645 NTV (2016) “Gen. Katumba Dismisses Maj. Gen. Tumukunde's Allegations of Interference in Youth Elections” March 3 Available online: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IsVofviXwW0 646 Diamond, Larry. 2002. “Thinking about Hybrid Regimes.” Jour- nal of Democracy 13(2): 647 Cammack, Diana., (2007), The logic of African neopatrimonialism: What role for donors? Development Policy Review, 25(5): 599-614. 648 Cammak (2007): ibid. p.22 649 Reyntjens, Filip (2010) The Great African War: Congo and regional geopolitics, 1996-2006

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objective was to overthrow the Congolese leader, Laurent Kabila and guarantee security along

their border stretch.650

The regime in Rwanda argued that the situation in eastern Congo presented a real security threat

because Hutu militants who fled to Congo following the 1994 genocide were using the Congolese

territory to mobilize a rebellion against the Kagame regime.651 Thus, given Rwanda’s history of

violent genocide, the ruling regime in Kigali considered Congo’s ungoverned spaces to be a source

of instability and could not tolerate a hostile neighbour supporting Hutu militias.

Likewise, Uganda justified its intervention in Congo by citing the threat posed by rebel groups like

the Lord's Resistance Army (LRA) and the Allied Democratic Forces (ADF).652 President

Museveni argued that the two insurgencies used Congo as a base to mobilize and launch armed

attacks against his government.653 The Ugandan government argued that, because the Congolese

authorities were both unable and unwilling to flush out rebels operating in their territory, Uganda

had a right to defend itself by invading Congo to defeat the rebels inside Congo.654 Uganda’s

intervention appeared justified by the ADF’s constant raids from Congolese territory on several

towns in western Uganda.655

Subsequently, Uganda and Rwanda launched a large-scale military operation in Congo with the

objective of first defeating the rebels opposed to their governments and then supporting an armed

rebellion against the Congolese government.656 By late 1998, troops from the two countries

controlled one-third of Congolese territory. The conflict escalated when the Ugandans and the

Rwandans attempted to take control of the capital, Kinshasa. At this point, Angola, Zimbabwe,

Namibia, Chad and Sudan intervened to save Kabila’s government from impending collapse.

Thereafter, a deadlock arose in which neither alliance could score a decisive victory.

650 Clark, F. John (2002) “Museveni’s adventure in the Congo war: Uganda’s Vietnam?” in: Clark (ed), The African Stakes of the Congo War. New York: Palgrave Macmillan). 651 Vlassenroot, K & Romkema, H (2002) “The emergence of a new order? Resources and war in eastern Congo,” Journal of Humanitarian Assistance, at http://wwwjha.ac/articles/alll.htm. 652 Weinstein M. Jeremy (200) “Africa's "Scramble for Africa": Lessons of a Continental War” World Policy Journal, Vol. 17, No. 2 pp. 11-20 653 Clark, John (2001) Explaining Ugandan Intervention in Congo: Evidence and Interpretations. The Journal of Modern African Studies, 39(2): 261–87 654 Prunier Gerald “Rebel Movements and Proxy Warfare: Uganda, Sudan and The Congo (1986-99)” African Affairs, 103/412, 359-3 655 Weeraratne and Recker Sterling (2016) “The isolated Islamists: The case of the Allied Democratic Forces in the Ugandan-Congolese borderland” Terrorism and Political Violence, Routledge, Taylor & Francis Group. 656 Clark F. John (2001) “Explaining Ugandan intervention in Congo: evidence and interpretations” The Journal of Modern African Studies, 39, 2 (2001), pp. 261-287

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Notwithstanding the debate over the legality and legitimacy of Uganda’s and Rwanda’s military

involvement in Congo,657the intervention offers interesting insights into how the UPDF combined

warfare and economic predation.658 While the justification for this intervention remains

controversial, what is not in dispute is that rank-and-file soldiers, their commanders and top leaders

took advantage of the war situation for personal benefit, specifically by engaging in the plunder of

Congolese resources.659 Military officers from Uganda became violence entrepreneurs, taking

advantage of the war to illegally trade in gold, diamond and timber. They established trade

networks connecting Congolese middlemen, warlords and miners to global commercial networks.

Many military officials, including relatives of President Museveni, profited from the war by

running shady business activities in the areas they controlled and using formal state infrastructure

and informal business connections to sell their loot to outside markets. Particularly, the business

dealings in Congo of the President’s brother Saleh came under scrutiny after a plane crashed in

September 1998 along the Uganda-Congo border.660 The accident killed Lt. Col. Jet Mwebaze, a

brother to James Kazini, then the UPDF Chief of Staff, and other individuals who were Saleh’s

known business partners. Upon inspection of the wreckage, it emerged that the plane had $1million

cash on board and that it was en route to a gold-buying mission on behalf of an Israeli company

called Efforte Corporation. It has been argued that the “tragic incident revealed how heavily

involved Saleh was in transporting gold from eastern Congo to Uganda as well as how gold was

usually classified as military cargo to avoid payment of customs duties.”661

The plunder of Congolese wealth by the Ugandan army was facilitated through collusion with

immigration and revenue officials who made it easy for army officials to move goods from Congo

to Uganda without the possibility of paying taxes. They chartered transport planes that flew

between Entebbe and Kisangani in breach of aviation rules.662 At the same time, trucks carrying

stolen Congolese goods crisscrossed the Uganda-Congo border uninspected. Frustrated by the

failure to collect taxes from this lucrative trade, the Uganda Revenue Authority (URA) went public

657 International Crisis Group [ICG] (2000) “Uganda and Rwanda: friends or enemies?', 4 available at www.crisiswe 658 United Nations Security Council “Final Report of the Group of Experts on the Democratic Republic of the Congo.’’ 659 Fahey, Dan (2009). Ibid. 660 Vlassenroot, Koen, and Timothy Raeymaekers (2004). ibid. 661 Mwenda, Andrew & Tangiri, Tangiri. (2003). Ibid. 662 Amnesty International. Democratic Republic of Congo: Arming the East. http://www.amnesty. org/en/library/info/AFR62/006/2005/en (accessed January 17, 2012).

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with its criticisms of military officers in May 1999.663 Soon after, the Uganda Civil Aviation

Authority (CAA) complained of an increasing number of unlicensed planes flying between

Uganda and Congo. One of the aviation firms involved was Air Alexander, which was originally

owned by Saleh and, later, by his wife, Jovia Akandwanaho.664 By 1999, the Uganda-Congo trans-

border economic networks started to attract the scrutiny of Parliament. Lawmakers like Aggrey

Awori, a member of the opposition, complained that the smuggling racket was run by “powerful

and well-connected individuals.”665

A United Nations panel of experts said in its report of April 2001 that the UPDF was using aircraft

and military airports to engage in illegal trade, including trafficking in stolen vehicles, minerals

and agricultural products from Congo.666 That report also faulted the UPDF for advancing deep

into the mineral-rich areas of Congo purposefully to help its soldiers gain access to minerals and

timber. The report named Saleh and Kazini as the owners of mysterious companies involved in the

plunder of Congo’s natural resources. Other individuals cited in the report were Chief of Military

Intelligence Col. Noble Mayombo; the presidential adviser on Congo; Col. Kahinda Otafiire;

Saleh’s wife, Jovia Akandwanaho; and Col. Peter Kerim.667 These individuals formed an elite

network that was influential in exploiting the war in Congo for personal benefit. In most cases,

they worked with international merchants and local militias to form what have been described as

a ‘‘privatised network of individual army officials, local warlords and international

enterprises.’’668 Individuals like Kazini exploited the war economy but also manipulated local

conflicts by collaborating with some local warlords.669 For instance, in August 1998 Kazini was

said to be the principle holder of timber that was looted from the logging companies Amex Bois

and La Forestiere. He operated closely with rebel leader Jean-Pierre Bemba and together they

confiscated tonnes of coffee from the Congolese rural areas of Bosonzo, Binga, Bumba,

Mindembo and Lisala. He also had links with local leaders of armed groups in Equateur and

663 See Ugandan government to a report of the Judicial Commission of Enquiry into the Alleged Exploitation of Wealth in the Democratic Republic of the Congo, 2003 Available online: https://reliefweb.int/report/democratic-republic-congo/statement-uganda-final-report-panel-experts-illegal-exploitation (Access March 26, 2018) 664 United Nations (2001) and (2002), 'Report of the Panel of Experts on the Illegal Exploitation of Natural Resources and Other Forms of Wealth of the Democratic Republic of the Congo', New York: April. 665 The New Vision 18 August 1999 666UN, 2001b, paras 31-45. Also, see: Global Witness (2004) “Same Old Story: A Background Study on Natural Resources in the Democratic Republic of Congo” (Washington, DC: Global Witness Publishing) 667 United Nations, ‘‘Letter dated 15 October 2002 from the Secretary-General addressed to the President of the Security Council,’’ United Nations, New York, 2002. 668 Rwanda: The Search for Security and Human Rights Abuses, Country Report Africa, 12(1), at http://hrw.org/reports/2000/Rwanda. 669 Mucoori, P Matsiko wa, David Kibirige & William Tayeebwa (2000) “Congo UPDF give Museveni surprise”, The Monitor, 24 August.

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Province Orientale, and developed relationships with other Congolese warlords, including Roger

Lumbala, Mbusa Nyamwisi and John Tibasiima.670 These connections facilitated a lucrative trade

line between Congolese warlords and Ugandan senior military officials.

Whereas it is correct to argue that Uganda’s intervention in Congo created economic opportunities

for political and military elites, it is erroneous to assume that economic interest was the only

motivating factor for the intervention. As I have argued in the aforementioned section, Uganda

and Rwanda had legitimate security concerns that compelled them to intervene in Congo. The

Congolese state had become, and perhaps still is, a failed behemoth that is unable to monopolize

violence within its borders.671 Armed groups (like the LRA and the ADF) fighting to topple the

government in Uganda turned Congo into a hotbed of insecurity for the region. Thus, legitimate

security concerns motivated the initial call for intervention in Congo, but once the intervention

started, military and political elites saw an opportunity to gain personal wealth from the war

situation. In the end financial and economic interests appeared to supersede security objectives.

The question, then, is why the Museveni regime tolerated soldiers who actively profited from the

war. In other words, why didn’t Museveni try to stop the plunder amid outcry from the media,

NGOs and donors? The answer lies in the way Museveni has constructed his regime. The

foundation of regime sustainability in Uganda is the partnership between military and political

elites. The military serves the interests of the regime and in turn the regime protects corrupt loyal

military officers from legal prosecution. Many officers involved in the plunder of Congo’s natural

wealth were assured of protection from the regime so long as they remained loyal to the regime

leader. Neither Saleh nor Otafiire was tried for alleged crimes committed in Congo despite a UN

inquiry finding them guilty of illegal exploitation of Congolese resources.672

The regime is heavily dependent on the support of both military and political elites, making it

difficult for Museveni to act against army officers, especially in a case like the plunder of

Congolese resources, where many senior officers and regime elites were implicated. The regime

believes that legal proceedings against such officers could destabilize its grip on power. Therefore,

670 Vlassenroot Koen, Perrot Sandrine & Cuvelier Jeroen (2011) “Doing business out of war. An analysis of the UPDF's presence in the Democratic Republic of Congo” Journal of Eastern African Studies, 6:1, 2-21. 671 Weiss, Herbert (200) “War and Peace in the Democratic Republic of the Congo.” Current African Issues. 22.:1-28. 672 United Nations (2001) and (2002), 'Report of the Panel of Experts on the Illegal Exploitation of Natural Resources and Other Forms of Wealth of the Democratic Republic of the Congo', New York: April.

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Museveni’s actions show that he is willing to tolerate corrupt behaviour among trusted military

officers rather than engage in costly actions that could cause discontent within regime circles.

Conversely, the President expects reciprocal benefits from the military officers in the form of

absolute loyalty.673And, if some generals failed to commit their total support to the regime,

Museveni has shown that he is not afraid to mete out heavy punishments. In fact, Museveni

frequently reminds his generals of how he supports them when in trouble and how he expects them

to reciprocate this action.674 The tendency of undemocratic regime protecting corrupt military

officers from prosecution in return for support is not new in Africa. For instance, Ola Olsson and

Heather Fors have shown how former Congolese president Mobutu Sese Seko allowed army

officers to plunder the country’s vast natural resources.675 Richard Moncrieff shows how a big part

of the military budget in Chad too is lost through corruption.676

The UPDF’s Involvement in National Development Projects

After the LRA rebellion was defeated, Museveni found himself facing a second crisis in the north:

the poor service delivery. The government had convinced the donor community to fund its poverty

intervention programs aimed at improving livelihoods in the impoverished northern region, an area

that was recovering from two decades of civil war.677 The government’s rationale was that

improving peoples’ livelihood678 would deprive the LRA of its remaining local support in the

area.679 Therefore, the government and the donor community, particularly the World Bank, sought

to invest in projects that could directly transform the living conditions of the people in the north.680

Two donor-backed government projects; the Northern Uganda Social Action Fund (NUSAF) and

673 Atuhaire, B. Alex B. & Kasyate Simon (2005) “Museveni Defends Gen. Saleh on Graft” Daily Monitor, October 29. Available online: http://allafrica.com/stories/200510280695.html (Accessed 22, August 2018) 674 New Vision (2009) “Museveni Hails Mbabazi, Otafiire as Revolutionaries”, August 3. Available online: http://www.newvision.co.ug/new_vision/news/1237477/museveni-hails-mbabazi-otafiire-revolutionaries 675 Olsson, Ola and Heather Fors. 2004. "Congo: The Prize of Predation." Journal of Peace Research 41 (3): 321-336. 676 Richard Moncrieff (2017) “In Backing Chad, the West Faces a Moral Hazard” International Crisis Group report. Available online: https://www.crisisgroup.org/africa/central-africa/chad/backing-chad-west-faces-moral-hazards 677 Golooba-Mutebi, Fredrick. & Hickey, Sam. (2009) “Governing chronic poverty under inclusive liberalism: the case of the Northern Uganda Social Action Fund” Chronic Poverty Research Centre, Manchester UK---Kampala, Uganda. 678 Tumusiime-Mutebile, E. (2010). ‘Institutional and political dimensions of economic reform’, in F. Kuteesa, E. Tumusiime-Mutebile, A. Whitworth and T. Williamson (eds.), Uganda’s Economic Reforms; Insider Accounts (pp. 35-51). Oxford: Oxford University Press. 679 Southall, A (1998) ‘“Isolation and underdevelopment: periphery and centre” in H. B. Hansen and M. Twaddle (eds), Developing Uganda, Oxford: James Currey, pp. 254–60 680 World Bank (2006) “The Northern Uganda Social Action Fund: Community Reconciliation and Conflict Management empower communities in a post-conflict setting’. Social Development Findings, 269

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the Peace Recovery and Development Program (PRDP), were created.681 The programs targeted

poor households that had been neglected by the national political bureaucrats.682 Although Uganda

embraced neo-liberal economic reforms in the late 1990s with considerable success, regional

inequalities between the impoverished north and the prosperous south remained stark. From the

government’s point of view, it was because of the civil war that development had eluded the north,

where 57% of the residents were estimated to be chronically poor, compared to the national

average of 34%.683 By 2008, Museveni was getting frustrated with the slow pace of economic

recovery in northern Uganda. He believed corruption and mismanagement by government

technocrats had slowed the pace of many of the government’s intervention projects.684 The

President’s concerns were not misplaced. An investigation by the country’s Auditor General

revealed that over $13 million in donor funds ended up in private bank accounts belonging to

government officers working in the Prime Minister’s Office, which is in charge of managing post-

war recovery programs in the north.685 The failure of government bureaucrats motivated the

President to involve the military in monitoring how the programs were being run. The UPDF 5th

Division in Pader was particularly instrumental in coordinating with community leaders to ensure

better outcomes for the beneficiaries. As Col. John Lorot, then-commander of the 5th Division,

explains:

Our current activity is to monitor government programs...We are trying to help

the people… People are already affected by the trauma of war but then somebody

comes to make sure that they do not benefit from NUSAF. I think that is criminal.

Let’s expose these corrupt people.686

In 2014, the President ordered the army to take over the monitoring and implementation

of two other multi-billion shillings poverty intervention programs in the country: the

National Agricultural Advisory Services (NAADS) and Operation Wealth Creation

681 World Bank (2002). NUSAF Operational Manual. Washington: World Bank 682 Ministry of Finance Planning and Economic Development (MFPED) (2004) Post conflict reconstruction: the case of Northern Uganda, Discussion Paper 8 (Kampala: MFPED) 683 UNDP, 2007 684 Robinson, M. (2005) “Community Driven Development in Conflict and Postconflict Conditions: The Northern Uganda Social Action Fund (NUSAF). Project”, Paper Prepared for the Low-Income Countries Under Stress (Licus). Initiative. Mimeo, World Bank. 685 Irish Independent 4th December 2012. 686 Col. John Lorot, then 5th Division Commander as interviewed by Uganda Radio Network. Available online: https://ugandaradionetwork.com/story/updf-monitors-implementation-of-government-programs (Accessed 22, August 2018)

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(OWC).687 To justify his decision, the President argued that, since the launch of NAADS

in 2001, the government had injected Shs200 billion in the program yet only Shs95 billion

had reached the farmers it was intended to help. The rest of the money was lost through

corruption and mismanagement. He then summoned a group of 300 military officers to

his residence and told them that he was putting them in charge of the multi-billion

NAADS program. He explained:

The purpose of involving the army to take the lead in the NAADS

implementation is to save the farmers from the misappropriation of the NAADS

funds. So, my involving you is geared towards saving the people of Uganda.688

The army has claimed that it is the most appropriate institution to implement programs like

NAADS because it cherishes the principles of transparency, discipline, openness and patriotism.689

The army’s task was to transform the agricultural industry into a strong pillar of the economy

through facilitating increased productivity, which in turn would create gainful jobs for many

Ugandans, feed the nation, and turn agriculture into a major foreign exchange earner for Uganda.

Within two years of the army’s takeover of NAADS, it claimed to have supplied an impressive

number of agricultural materials to farmers: 27.3 million coffee seedlings, 412,090 mango

seedlings, 846,756 orange seedlings, 2,063 tons of maize, 4,199,355 tea seedlings, 869.1 tons of

beans, 48,438,000 tree seedlings, 243 bags of cassava cuttings, and 10,000 banana tissues.690

In a surprise move, however, President Museveni disbanded NAADS in 2014, arguing that despite

billions of shillings that the government had invested in the program, there was nothing on the

ground to prove its impact. In particular, Museveni was disappointed that Shs24 billion allocated

for projects in Uganda’s central region had ended up in the pockets of corrupt bureaucrats, leaving

many farmers in poverty.691 A few months later, the President introduced another anti-poverty

687 The Monitor (2014) “Man Sues Museveni over Army Takeover of Naads Programme” August 25. Available online: http://www.monitor.co.ug/News/National/Man-sues-Museveni-over-army-takeover-of-Naads-programme/688334-2429514-xhutk7/index.html Accessed 22, August 2018) 688 The Uganda Media Centre (2014) “Army came to save NAADS funds from further misappropriation-President” , September 8. Available: https://www.mediacentre.go.ug (Accessed 22, August 2018) 689 Lamu David and Kiuuwa Paul (June 8, 2014) “NAADS: UPDF says it is ready to take over from Civil Servants” Available online: http://www.newvision.co.ug/new_vision/news/1341809/naads-updf-ready-civil-servants (Accessed 22, August 2018) 690 Information is obtained from NAADS secretariat website Available online: https://www.naads.or.ug (Accessed 18, August 2018) 691 Nassaka Flavia (2014) “Is Disbanding NAADS Museveni’s Next Blunder?” The Independent, June 15. Available online: https://www.independent.co.ug/disbanding-naads-musevenis-next-blunder/

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program dubbed Operation Wealth Creation (OWC). OWC is a multi-billion presidential initiative

managed by the UPDF under the overall leadership of Museveni’s young brother, Gen. Saleh, who

is assisted by Brig. Proscovia Nalweyiso. The aim of OWC is to improve ‘household incomes for

poverty eradication, wealth creation and overall prosperity of Ugandans through facilitation of

sustainable commercial agricultural production.”692 Under this program, the UPDF engages in

mass mobilization of people in activities aimed at boosting household incomes, and also provides

micro-level financial support to income-generating projects.693 The President has argued that he

launched OWC out of frustration with NAADS and other failed anti-poverty-eradication programs

of the past. OWC seeks to convert 68% of Ugandan homesteads from subsistence farming to

commercial agriculture in the next decade. Museveni has said that there is an affluent class of

Ugandans who are growing richer while the poor whose livelihoods depend on agriculture are

getting poorer. He hopes a program like OWC will empower farmers to engage in commercial

farming in which they could earn a better income.694 Since OWC commenced its operations, the

President and his brother have held country-wide sensitization tours, meeting small-scale farmers

and visiting demonstration farms. Several other UPDF officers have also held activities meant to

sensitize farmers and to distribute equipment.

Unlike the intervention in Congo and the civil war in the north, the UPDF’s involvement in

NAADS and OWC has been characterized by cases of corruption, though at a relatively lower

scale. This can be explained by several factors: first, the UPDF is largely playing a supportive role

to the civil structure already in place. The finances of both NAADS and OWC are controlled by

the Ministry of Agriculture. Although NAADS was disbanded in 2014, the President retained its

powerful secretariat, which still makes decisions on contracts and procurement for OWC. The

UPDF is mandated to use its network of bases spread across the country to distribute materials to

farmers. Second, unlike in Congo where UPDF officers formed a racketeering network that had

little, if any, impact on the President’s popularity, NAADS and OWC are envisioned to benefit

people in the rural areas where Museveni is especially popular. Therefore, Museveni has a

subjective interest in the success of these programs because they have a direct impact on his

popularity. Third, Museveni portrays himself as the only Ugandan leader in history who has

692 OWC website: http://portal.defence.go.ug 693 OWC website: http://portal.defence.go.ug 694 Uganda Media Centre (2016) “Operation Wealth Creation is Progressing-Museveni”, September 3. Available online: https://www.mediacentre.go.ug/press-release/“operation-wealth-creation-progressing”-–-president-museveni (Accessed May 24, 2016).

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managed to contain the army. While he has been successful at deflecting criticism over top-level

military corruption, he would find it difficult to defend the actions of army officers stealing money

meant for supplying seeds to poor farmers. This explains why he has been heavily involved in

monitoring the activities of OWC. He has personally visited every region of the country, inspecting

demonstration farms and interviewing the beneficiaries of the projects.695 Through his visits, the

President is eager to collect views from affected farmers and propose changes where necessary. In

fact, the President has not shied away from publicly confronting local OWC officers whom he

deems ineffective.696

As a poverty intervention project, OWC has yet to produce significant outcomes. Like many other

poverty intervention programs, OWC is poorly designed, with no recognizable standard operating

procedures. For instance, there is lack of written guidelines on how the beneficiaries are selected

and vetted. The government has failed to streamline the procurement and distribution of inputs to

farmers, leading to wastage and misallocation of funds by lower-level technocrats. Between 2014

and 2015, the government allocated Shs186 billion to the provision of seeds, breeding, animal

stock and planting materials, but no accountability has ever been provided.697 As Ibrahim Ssemuju

Nganda, the Chief Opposition Whip in Parliament explains:

In the year when OWC was started, government invested Shs147 billion in the

intervention program. The government said the money was meant to buy seeds

and to support training of 300 army officers in agriculture at Makerere

University. In 2016, government injected Shs255billion in the OWC program.

In the 2017 financial year, government has again budgeted Shs266 billion for

OWC. Nobody can explain what this money has done. The army says that the

money is used to buy seeds, but how do you buy seeds for billions of shillings

every year? And, where are those seeds? They cannot provide accountability for

it. Even members of the ruling party who sit on the Parliamentary Committee on

695 Media Centre (2016) “Museveni Promotes Operation Wealth Creation in Luwero Triangle”, October 30. Available online: https://www.mediacentre.go.ug/press-release/president-promotes-operation-wealth-creation-luweero-triangle Available online: (Accessed May 24, 2016) 696 Basiima Felix (2011) “Museveni fires Bundibugyo NAADS Coordinator”, Monitor, January 12. Available online: http://www.monitor.co.ug/News/National/688334-1088184-b5eapjz/index.html (Accessed May 24, 2016) 697 MAAIF (2014), Ministerial Policy Statement for Agriculture, Animal Industry and Fisheries Sector, FY 2014/15

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Agriculture have signed onto a report, which shows that OWC is a scam. The

program needs to stop because it is not producing any impact.698

In addition to criticisms from local and national politicians, some farmers are reportedly angry at

the UPDF officers working under OWC for supplying them with sub-standard seeds that failed to

germinate.699 Some UPDF officers interviewed for this research acknowledge that there is a quality

problem with the seeds they have supplied to farmers, but they blame suppliers and the Ministry

of Agriculture for allegedly failing to regulate seed companies. As the UPDF’s Political

Commissar explains:

Our work in OWC is basically to supplement the civil service. The UPDF (is)

not involved in the procurement of agricultural inputs. If there are problems with

the quality of the products, then it is the technocrats in the ministry responsible.

Our mandate is to use our network with civilians to help (the) government with

the distribution and supervision of the implementation of government projects

under OWC.700

The problem with OWC is that, after the disbandment of NAADS, the UPDF came in with a

‘saviour mentality’ and Museveni projected OWC as offering solutions to farmers’ problems that

NAADS had failed to solve. Now OWC finds itself facing the same problems as NAADS, with

the UPDF having to convince farmers that it is the civil service, not the army, to blame for the

farmers’ woes. Many of the reported cases of fraud have been in the procurement and supply chain

units where government technocrats call the shots. But there have also been cases of collusion

between military officers and civil servants to commit fraud. Many army officers working under

OWC admit that these cases are real and could taint the image of the army if they are not contained.

As a spokeswoman for OWC explains: “the President is tired of spending money that ends in

people’s pockets, leaving no impact on the ground….701

698 NTV-Uganda (May 22, 2017) “FDC queries Operation Wealth CreationAvailable online: FDC egamba "Operation Wealth Creation" teeyambye bantu baabulijjo 699 Onyango E. Joseph (2015) “UPDF to blacklist fake seed companies” Daily Monitor, December 11. Available online: http://www.monitor.co.ug/News/National/Army-to-blacklist-fake-seed-companies/688334-2991582-s52ut8z/index.html (Accessed May 24, 2016) 700 Interview with Major. Ba-Hoku Barigye. ibid. 701 See an interview with OWC head of communications, Ms Sarah Kagingo pubkished by Uganda Anti-Corruption Coalition: Available online: http://accu.or.ug/agriculture-officials-accused-of-fraud (Accessed March 24, 2019)

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In several parts of the country local leaders have been arrested on charges of corruption and fraud.

They are accused of conniving with lower army officers involved in OWC to divert farmers’

supplies for their personal use. Others face charges of causing financial loss to the government,

for impersonating farmers and for forging documents to receive supplies from the government.

For instance, in Kasese District, the internal auditor there verified that documents submitted in

2016 and signed by OWC coordinator, Lt. Col. Medhi K Baguma, had all been forged. The

government had released Shs10.9 million coffee seedlings to the district in 2015, but the district

auditor could not trace the coffee trees.702 In other places like Pader District, there have been cases

of district officials distributing livestock among themselves instead of the intended beneficiaries.

In fact, many local leaders, mainly from the ruling party, have petitioned the President, urging him

to terminate OWC on grounds that it has kept farmers in a vicious cycle of poverty.703 Yet

Museveni has not acted because OWC is another scheme used by the President to allow senior

army officers and regime elites to gain wealth through corruption.

Conclusion

Several insights have been highlighted by this chapter. The first is that, although Museveni’s early

promise was to create a professional military force that would form a foundation for Uganda’s

socio-economic reconstruction, the military in Uganda remains one of the most corrupt

institutions. The case of Uganda’s intervention in Congo and the government’s failure to prosecute

corrupt military generals demonstrates Museveni’s use of corruption as an instrument for political

control. He understands that army officers who have been implicated in corrupt practices will

remain loyal to him because that is the only way they can evade criminal prosecution. In other

words, it can be said that Museveni deliberately ignores military officers who engage in shady

business practices because, in the end, it enables him to collect and store incriminating evidence

that could be useful for the regime in future. The generals that have fallen out with the regime, as

in the case of Kazini, are quickly arraigned before court and charged with crimes they committed

many years ago. Other retired army generals cannot dare criticise the regime leader because of the

fear of vengeance.

702 Basiime Felix, Ninsiima, Enid, et.al (2016) “Agriculture officials Accused of Fraud”, Daily Monitor, August 17. Available: http://www.monitor.co.ug/News/National/Agriculture-officials-accused-of-fraud/688334-3347908-154f1o7z/index.html 703 The Monitor (2016) “Faint Hope as Operation Wealth Creation Limps on” November 12. Available online: http://www.monitor.co.ug/News/National/Faint-hope-as-Operation-Wealth-Creation-limps-on/688334-3450334-a25cn7/index.html

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Another insight to draw from this chapter is that the UPDF’s entrepreneurialism is not something

new. Most of the UPDF deployments in war situations have generated opportunities for military

officers to engage in corruption and plunder. These self-serving economic activities have been

successful because they are intricately linked to the state structure -- that is, a network comprising

senior military officers, political elites and businessmen who effectively run the state, with

Museveni at its helm. In some cases, like the plunder of Congo, there were pre-existing networks

of exchange between Congolese warlords and Uganda’s political and military elites. This cross-

border network became crucial in facilitating lucrative trade in minerals like gold, diamond and

materials such as timber and coffee between Ugandan military officers and Congolese warlords.

While some authors have argued that these predatory networks could undermine regime authority

as well as pose a destabilizing effect on the state, Uganda’s experience shows that their impact on

regime stability is the opposite. Rather than weakening the regime, it instead helped the regime

leader to maintain power and cohesion through deliberately permitting army officers to engage in

projects that are meant to enrich themselves. In fact, both Uganda and Rwanda have remained

relatively stable states and the intervention into Congo, though dogged by serious cases of

economic plunder, helped both regimes to achieve their stated objective, which was to defeat the

insurgencies that threatened regime.

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Chapter Seven

State Collapse, Reconstruction and the Formation of the RPF Regime in Rwanda

Introduction

To understand the contemporary character of the Rwandan state, it is imperative to explore key

historical developments that underpin its birth, collapse and reconstruction after the 1994

genocide. From 1923 to 1962, the Belgian colonial administrators helped an ethnic Tutsi monarchy

to monopolise power at the expense of the Hutu, but towards independence the colonial

government introduced a democratic system of government. This resulted in a transition of power

away from the Tutsi, who barely constituted 15 percent of the population to the Hutu, who

constituted 85 percent.704 Hence, upon gaining independence in 1962, Rwanda was ruled by a Hutu

President, Gregoire Kayibanda, who was then deposed in a bloodless couple organized by then-

Defence Minister Juvenal Habyarimana in 1973.705 After seizing power, Habyarimana established

a dominant regime with the support of Hutu elites who had controlled government institutions

since 1959. Like his predecessor, he put the country under military rule until 1978, when he

organized a presidential election to legitimize his rule.706 To his credit, Habyarimana achieved

considerable progress, including the introduction of multipartism amidst a spirited attempt to

overthrow his government, mostly from a guerrilla group supported by Uganda. In 1994, the

Rwandan Patriotic Front (RPF) and its military wing, the Rwandan Patriotic Army (RPA), under

the initial leadership of Major General Fred Rwigyema and later Paul Kagame, swept into power

and ended the 1994 genocide.

The post-genocide regime in Rwanda inherited a political structure without much residue as many

of the elites who had been in control of the state before genocide either fled the country, were

arrested or died in the struggle for power. Therefore, unlike the NRA in Uganda, the RPF, having

achieved a decisive military victory, did not have to make concessions to or co-opt the interests of

pre-existing social groups. This vacant political space provided an opportunity for the elites in the

704Bekken, Nicole.(2011) “Rwanda's Hidden Divisions: From the Ethnicity of Habyarimana to the Politics of Kagame” Available online: https://www.beyondintractability.org/casestudy/bekken-rwandas-hidden-divisions (accessed March 23, 2019) 705 Sullivan 1994 “Juvenal Habyarimana, 57, Ruled Rwanda for 21 Years” New York Times, April 7, Available online: www.nytimes.com/1994/04/07/obituaries/juvenal-habyarimana-57-ruled-rwanda-for-21-years.html (accessed March 23, 2019) 706Prunier, Gerald (2002) The Rwanda Crisis: History of a Genocide London: Hurst and Company.

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RPF to transform their guerrilla group into a strong military force, purveying a strong army as a

bulwark against genocide.

This chapter analysizes the transformation of the Rwandan Patriotic Front (RPF) from a guerrilla

group that captured the state in 1994 into a ruling regime, examining how it exploited the post-

genocide political situation that was characterized by lack of well-institutionalized elite interests

and the scars of genocide to establish a dominant RPF regime that is particularly resilient and

oppressive to any challenges to its authority.

Three elements are critical in understanding the nature of post-genocide state reconstruction and

regime formation in Rwanda: a) the military and its role in spearheading the reconstruction of post-

genocide ethnic identities, b) the interests of RPF elites and the barriers created by these elites that

paralyzed the first post-genocide power-sharing government and, c) the complex legacies of

genocide that have served as an instrument of social and political control. The chapter argues that,

although the civilian RPF regime introduced several policies that it says were intended to create a

post-ethnic nation, military elites privately worked to tighten the army’s grip on the political

system and actively directed the formulation and development of these policies. Thus, to

consolidate power in Rwanda, the RPF agreed to form a power-sharing government, but, behind

the curtains, cultivated a strategy for a small cleavage of top military elites (led by Paul Kagame),

the majority of whom were former Tutsi refugees to retain power and control. The chapter further

shows how the complex legacies of the 1994 Rwandan genocide have been skillfully exploited by

the regime to justify its authoritarian character. The regime has introduced several laws and often

engaged in undemocratic actions that it says are intended to fight genocide and its ideology,

guarantee social order and promote ethnic coexistence. It contributes to the view that the so-called

anti-genocide laws and policies are instead intended to stifle dissent and consolidate the regime’s

control of Rwandan society and further argues that these laws have flourshed because post-

genocide Rwanda lacks a “residue” social structure to constrain the power of the post-genocide

regime.

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The Military, Complex Ethnic Identities, and Colonial Legacies

Rwanda and Burundi share a unique ethnic composition.707 Both countries are inhabited by three

ethnic groups: the Hutu, the Tutsi and the Twa. The Twa, also called the Batwa, are historically

considered to be the first group of people to live in what is today Rwanda.708 Although they are

numerically insignificant, they fundamentally constitute the socio-cultural foundation of the

Rwandan society because of their unique social identity and practices.709 The Twa figure in major

historical accounts of Rwanda and Burundi as the first occupants of the land, and established

significant roles in the chieftaincy and earth-fertility rituals.710 They are highly regarded for their

cultural practices related to forest ecology, medicine, hunting, orientation skills and the performing

arts.711 The total population of Twa in Rwanda is estimated to range between 20,000 and 27,000,

about 0.4 percent of the total population.712 The fact that they are smaller in numbers makes them

politically insignificant, which explains why historically the Twa have had no impact on the

political fate of Rwanda.

The Hutu are the largest ethnic group in Rwanda, constituting about 85 percent of the

population.713 They are traditionally farmers and cultivators. The Hutu are historically considered

the second group of people to inhabit Rwanda after the Twa. Upon settling in present-day Rwanda,

the Hutu dominated the Twa and became prominent in the politics of independent Rwanda because

of their numerical strength. Some studies explain the unique attributes of Rwanda’s ethnic groups

based on their physical features. For instance, unlike the Twa, who are cast as physically shorter

and smaller, the Hutu are generally described as slightly taller, with a stronger and broader

physique. The third ethnic group in Rwanda are the Tutsi. According to some historical accounts

derived from Rwandan folklore, the Tutsi are originally Cushite people who migrated to Rwanda

707 Jeremie Gilbert (2013) “Constitutionalism, ethnicity and minority rights in Africa: A legal appraisal from the Great Lakes region,” International Journal of Constitutional Law, Volume 11, Issue 2, Pages 414–437, 708 Kagabo, J.H. and Mudandagizi, V. (1974) “Complainte des gens d’argile, les Twa du Rwanda’ in Cahiers des Etudes Africaines” 14 (1) Cahier No. 53, 1974, pp. 75-9 (French Version) 709 Kagano J.H. and Mudandagizi, V. (1974) ibid. p. 75-87. 710 Jackson, Dorothy. Twa Women (2003) “Twa Rights in the Great Lakes, Minority Rights Group Report” Minority Rights Group International: London. 711 Kagabo, J.H. and Mudandagizi, V. ‘Complainte des gens d’argile, les Twa du Rwanda’ in Cahiers des Etudes Africaines 14 (1) Cahier No. 53, 1974, pp. 75-87 (French Version). 712 Lewis 2006: 3) “The Twa Pigmies: Rwanda’s Ignored People” In La Margininalisation des Pygmées d’Afrique Centrale. 2006. Edited by Sévérin Cécile Abega and Patrice Bigombe Logo. Langres, France: Africaine d’Edition/ Maisonneuve et Larose. Pp. 79-105 713 Prunier Gerard (1995) ibid.

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from the Horn of Africa, particularly Ethiopia.714 They are cast as taller and thinner in physique

than the Hutu and Twa. It should, however, be noted that not all Hutu, Tutsi or Twa, share similar

physical attributes.

Historically, the Tutsi were cattle keepers. In pre-colonial Rwanda society, the Tutsi constituted

the elite social class who were the conquerors of both the Twa and the Hutu. Rwandans have

historically thought of height as “the symbol of racial exclusiveness and pure blood.”715 Some

studies suggest that it is from such social construction that the Tutsi began to feel entitled as rulers

of both the Hutu and the Twa ethnic groups, even though they have never constituted more than

15 percent of the entire Rwandan population.716 As cattle-keepers, the Tutsi were always in a

position of socio-economic dominance over the Hutu cultivators. This is not to say that all Tutsi

were economically richer than every Hutu, but in many aspects, they towered over the Hutu and

the Twa.

While the socio-economic disparities separating the three ethnic groups are historical, they grew

and became more significant during the colonial period, in part because of the way they were

politically exploited by the Belgian colonial administrators. In fact, several historians like George

Izangola have argued that, before colonialism, the difference between the Hutu and the Tutsi were

economic rather than ethnic.717

The end of the First World War saw Germany lose possession of Rwanda when the territory was

placed under the protection of Belgium, under whose administration Rwanda was governed based

on the model of a “conquest state”718. In 1923, the Belgians attached Rwanda and Burundi to the

Belgian Congo and formed a new administration unit called Ruanda-Urundi. To fortify the new

territory, they introduced a policy which transformed these units into a neo-mercantile state based

on taxation and the production of cash crops. The effectiveness of this taxation policy hinged on

714 Ibrahim Amer (2013) “Are genetic differences at the root of the Tutsi-Hutu Rwandan conflict?” ( August 5) Available online: https://geneticliteracyproject.org/2013/08/05/are-genetic-differences-at-the-root-of-the-tutsi-hutu-rwandan-conflict (Accessed April 10, 2019) 715 Keane, Fergal. (1995) Season of Blood. London: Penguin Books, pg.10 716 Bekken, Nicole. (2011) “Rwanda's Hidden Divisions: From the Ethnicity of Habyarimana to the Politics of Kagame 717 See, for example, Izangola interview on PBS News Hour Program: Available online; https://www.pbs.org/newshour/politics/africa-july-dec99-rwanda_10-08. (Accessed December 8,2017). He argues in this interview that “He explains that: “the Tutsi and the Hutu are the same people. …….People used to be Tutsi or Hutu, depending on the proximity to the king. If you were close to the king, you owned wealth, you owned a lot of cattle, you are a Tutsi. If you were far away from the king, you are a cultivator, you don’t own much cattle, you are a Hutu.” 718 Mamdani, Muhamood (2001) When Victims Become Killers Princeton: Princeton University Press.

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the successful control, and consent, of the local population. But, to achieve this, they introduced

classification and identification cards for the colonized population. Every citizen above the age of

16 was forced to carry an identity card, describing the identity of the bearer as being Hutu, Tutsi

or Twa. It was this contentious ethnic-based policy that led to the imposition of racial divisions

within the Rwandan society and its ethnic groups.719Rwandan society was thus redefined based on

racial and ethnic stratification. Each group was led to believe that it had a distinctive internal

homogeneity, which inevitably led all the groups to become closed to each other, and

intermarriages became a social taboo.720 Furthermore, the colonial administrators aggravated

ethnic differences by only permitting the Tutsi to attain higher education and hold positions of

power. Indeed, many Rwandans interviewed for this research maintained that the ‘racial problem’

in their society is a consequence of the colonization wave of 1950s and the Belgian divide-and-

rule policy that heightened ethnic tensions between the Hutu and the Tutsi.721

Under the colonial administration, Rwandan society was highly centralized and hierarchical. While

this was not entirely different from pre-colonial Rwanda, what is of great concern is how colonial

authorities redefined social structures. The colonizers deliberately set out to regulate social

relationships among the colonized population with a sole aim of securing consent and control.722

For instance, acting on the advice of the Missionary White Fathers, the colonial government

considered the pre-colonial system of monarchy and chiefs to be the preserve of the Tutsi, so that

the positions of chief and sub-chiefs were closed to the other groups. The king’s choice of who

occupied those positions had to be approved by the colonial authorities. The occupants of these

positions were local elites chosen from the population to help the colonial authorities as local

administrators. Apart from racial considerations, the chiefs were differentiated from the rest of the

colonized people by virtue of having attained a Western education.723 And since the education

system was run under a quota system that ensured that the substantial majority of students were

719 Chretien, Jean-Pierre. (1995) Rwanda: les medias du genocide, Paris, Karthala (French version) 720 Guillaumin, C. (1995) Race and Nature: the system of marks. The idea of a natural group and social relationships in: C. Guillaumin (ed.), Racism, Sexism, Power and Ideology (London: Routledge) pp. 132–52. 721 Interview with Ms. Eugenia Kayitesi, Executive Director, Institute of Policy Analysis and Research-Rwanda (August 5, 2017) 722 Nkubito, A.-M. (1995) Le Role de la Justice dans la Crise Rwandaise in: A. Guichaoua (ed.), Les Crises Politiques au Burundi et au Rwanda (1993–1994) (Presses Universitaires de Lille: Lille) pp. 275–87 723 Purdeková, Andrea (2012) “Beyond De-Ethnicisation in Post-Genocide Rwanda Deconstruction of Identity Discourse, Reconstruction of a Political Community.” Available at: https://www.researchgate.net/publication/239919521_Beyond_De-Ethnicisation_in_Post-Genocide_Rwanda_Deconstruction_of_Identity_Discourse_Reconstruction_of_a_Political_Community (Accessed March 20, 2018)

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Tutsi, most of the administrative cadres were inevitably Tutsi. Those who had attained formal

education were employed by the colonial government to work as clerks, tax collectors, local

administration officers and managers of plantation farms. And, since the colonial education system

privileged the Tutsi at the expense of the Hutu and the Twa, one consequence was that the Tutsi

occupied those privileged positions of serving as colonial agents in a system of indirect rule that

was designed to impose colonial imperatives on the population. The peasant population provided

labour for colonial agricultural production in a system where the privileged Tutsi elites were

charged with ensuring societal obedience to colonial authorities. Hence, between 1923 and 1962,

the Belgian colonial authorities and the Tutsi monarchy concentrated power at the expense of the

Hutu majority.724 While this dual system of administration created fundamental power

asymmetries between the colonizers and the colonized, it was never democratic and did not

guarantee equal rights to all. Even when the space for legitimate political organizations was

opened with the introduction of elective positions for representatives of the Consultative Council,

the strategy of the Belgian colonial administration remained to secure effective control of Rwandan

society through the reliable support of the Tutsi elites and the Missionary White Fathers. Helen

Hintjens has, for example, demonstrated how the “church, school, administration and the army

were organized around the assumed racial superiority of the Batutsi [Tutsi].”725 And she adds that,

by introducing Christianity and 'tidying up' Rwandan social groups, Belgian colonial

administration cut across mechanisms of social cohesion, including the religious belief system and

clan structures.”726 It seems, however, that toward independence the Belgian colonial

administrators had a change of heart about the system they had created in Rwanda. They

recognized the gravity of the flaws in the system. They questioned its appropriateness in an

environment fractured by deep ethno-political divisions.

Consequently, they introduced several measures designed to democratize the society. The Hutu

political movement, which stood to benefit from a system of majority rule, supported these

measures while some Tutsi elites, who stood to lose, resisted them. Meanwhile, a few Hutu within

the Church and the colonial administrative system started questioning Tutsi dominance.727 For

instance, in 1957 three Hutu ex-seminarians, including Grégoire Kayibanda, who later became

724 Prunier (2002), Ibid. 725 Hintjens, M. Helen (2009) "Explaining the 1994 Genocide in Rwanda." The Journal of Modern African Studies 37, no. 2 (1999): P. 253. 726 Hintjens, M. Helen (2009) ibid. p. 254 727 White, Kenneth. (2009). “Scourge of racism.” Journal of Black Studies, 39(3), 471-481.

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President of the first republic, wrote Le Manifeste des Bahutu, a document that called for the double

liberation of Hutu people. In it, Kayibanda and his colleagues presented the political situation in

Rwanda as a product of an indigenous racial problem in which the majority Hutu had been socio-

politically and economically sidelined by the minority Tutsi. They argued that the Hutu needed to

be liberated first from white colonialists and then from the Tutsi, who had a monopoly on socio-

political and economic power. The three signatories of the manifesto later formed a political party

called PARMEHUTU (Parti du Mouvement de l'Emancipation Hutu, or Hutu Emancipation

Movement Party) that hoped to wrest political power from the Tutsi.728 In response, the Tutsi

hierarchy formed a monarchist party called Union Nationale Rwandaise, or UNAR, which sought

to protect the monarchy and a system of chiefs and sub-chiefs in post-independence Rwanda.729

With political battle lines drawn based on ethnicity, what followed was a violent incident in

November 1959 that sparked a Hutu revolt in which many Tutsi were killed and thousands forced

to flee to exile in neighboring countries. By the time Rwanda got independence in 1962, about

120,000, mostly Tutsi, Rwandans had fled the country to become refugees.730

It is, therefore, apparent that the nature of the post-colonial state in Rwanda fundamentally hinged

on the protracted struggle for power between the Hutu and the Tutsi. It is this struggle that led to

the ‘social revolution’ of November 1959, characterised by a spontaneous Hutu uprising against

the Tutsi monarch, his chiefs and administrative cadres.731 This revolution resulted in the inevitable

transition of power from the Tutsi to the Hutu. As a result, PARMEHUTU party became a

dominant representative of the Hutu people, starting decades of Hutu political domination of the

Tutsi in post-colonial Rwandan society.732 PARMEHUTU leader Gregoire Kayibanda became

President of Rwanda’s first republic. Hence, from the above discussion, it is apparent that the post-

colonial Rwandan state, right from the beginning, was ethnically charged, characterized by an ever

more violent struggle for power and superiority between the two dominant ethnic groups.

728 Chretien, J.-P. (1999) Hutu et Tutsi au Rwanda et au Burundi in: J.-L. Amselle and E. M’Bokolo (eds),Au coeur de l’ethnie: Ethnie, tribalisme et Etat en Afrique (Paris: Editions La De ́couverte) pp. 129–65. 729 Nkundagagenzi, F. (1961) Rwanda Politique 1958–1960. Les Dossiers du C.R.I.S.P: Brussels 730 Longman, T. (1995) Genocide and Socio-Political Change: Massacres in Two Rwandan Villages, Issue: a journal of opinion pp. 18–21. 731 Vidal, C. (1995) Les Politiques de la Haine, Les Temps Modernes 583 (juillet–aouˆt), pp. 6–23 ((French version) 732 Vidal, C. (1973) Colonisation et de ́colonisation du Rwanda: la question tutsi-hutu, Revue franc ̧aise d’e ́tudes politiques africaines 91 (juillet), pp. 32–47(French version)

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The Formation of the RPF Guerrilla Movement

The realization of independence in 1962 did little to quell ethno-political tensions in Rwanda.

Instead, ethnic conflict and violence persisted, forcing multitudes of Tutsi refugees into Tanzania,

Congo (then Zaire), Uganda and Burundi. Some of the refugees in Tanzania and Zaire began

organizing a rebellion against the Hutu regime. They orchestrated attacks on government positions

in 1962 and 1967, but each of these attacks led to retaliatory killings of Tutsi in Rwanda and

sparked a new wave of refugees.733 By the last quarter of the 1980s about 480,000 Rwandans were

living in refugee camps outside their country.734 Despite setbacks from the failed attacks, the idea

of returning to Rwanda and liberating their country from a Hutu-led regime was kept live among

Rwandans in refugee camps.735 Later, a guerrilla group, the Rwandan Patriotic Front (RPF), was

formed by second-generation refugees in the late 1980s with a declared intention of fighting their

way to Rwanda and overthrowing the Habyarimana regime. The RPF (and its military wing, the

RPA) was constituted mainly by Tutsi exiles in Uganda, many of whom had fought alongside

Museveni in the Ugandan civil war of 1981 to 1986 and subsequently served in Museveni’s

National Resistance Army.736 Although the ranks of the RPF did include a few Hutu, a majority

of its top leadership positions were Tutsi refugees. As Major General Frank Mugambage, one of

the first RPF commanders and the first chief of Rwandan police after the genocide, explains:

The RPF was founded by Rwandese who wanted to liberate their country, who

wanted to change the trajectory the country was taking. Yes, we got assistance

from neighboring countries, but we were determined to liberate the country from

tyranny and to unite our people who had been divided and discriminated

(against) based on their ethnicity, and to repatriate our people who were living

in exile as refugees.737

Although many of the individuals recruited into the RPA were poorly educated and less

ideological, the group did maintain what has been described as ‘fairly high professional standards

733 Longman, T. (1998) “Rwanda: Chaos from Above” in: L.A. Villalo ́n and P.A. Huxtable (eds), The African State at a Critical Juncture. Between Disintegration and Reconfiguration (Boulder, CO and London: Lynne Rienner) pp. 75–91 734 Van Der Meeren, R. (1996). “Three decades in exile: Rwandan refugees 1960-1990.” Journal of Refugee Studies, 9(3), 252-267. 735 Interview with Col. Jill Rutaremara.ibid. 736 Kuperman, ALAN. (2004). “Provoking genocide: A revised history of the Rwandan patriotic front.” Journal of Genocide Research, 6(1), 61-84. 737 Interview with Major General Frank Mugambage, Rwanda Ambassador to Uganda (June 23, 2016)

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for an African army . . . they fought courageously, though at times ineptly, and kept their solidarity

even in defeat.’738

As a guerrilla group, the RPA developed strong cohesion at different organizational levels. At the

command level, the bonding of senior RPA hierarchy was based on the belief that they were

members of a marginalized Tutsi community who had to command a minority fighting force

against a powerful Hutu-dominated government force. Through this bonding, the RPA built trust

among its senior officers serving at different levels. It nurtured social relationships between peers

and leaders within its small fighting groups, which helped in managing the expectations of its

fighters. Moreover, it cultivated institutional bonding through engaging in several propaganda

activities meant to generate an emotional connection between its leaders and low-level combatants.

Fighters were consistently told to look at themselves as the “Jews of Africa” who had been

persecuted and expelled from their own land.739 Like the Jews under Nazi Germany, the Tutsi

under Habyarinama’s regime saw themselves as ‘socially dead’ as the world was increasingly

indifferent to their plight.740 Thus, many of the Tutsi returnees developed a narrative that connected

their return to Rwanda to the biblical exodus of the Hebrews out of Egypt to the Promised Land.741

As one former RPF Intelligence Officer puts it:

It is emotionally moving to be told every day that you are being persecuted like

Jews. Many of the RPA fighters believed that they were fighting to reach a

promised land. This was not accidental; it was our propaganda to nurture fighters

who believe in the cause and are committed to it.742

Given the way the RPA leadership constructed the struggle, fighters believed in the notion that it

was incumbent upon them to fight for their own liberation from the despotic Hutu regime. In this

way, the RPA fostered institutional bonding between its personnel and the RPA as an institution.

Since almost all fighters were Tutsi, they were regularly told they had only two choices: to ‘fight

738 Prunier (2002), Ibid.p.113 739 Hintjens Helen (1999) “Explaining the 1994 genocide in Rwanda” The Journal of Modern African Studies, 37(2), 241-286. 740 Uvin, Peter. (1997) ‘Prejudice, crisis and genocide in Rwanda’, African Studies Review, 40, 2:91:11 741 Phillip A. Cantrell. (2014) “We Were a Chosen People”: The East African Revival and Its Return to Post-Genocide Rwanda. Church History 83:02, pages 422-445. 742 Interview with a former RPF Intelligence Officer (O6), who now lives in exile in Kampala, Uganda.

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together or perish together’.743 Loyalty to the leaders and devotion to the RPF’s mission were

paramount. Thus, unlike the NRA in Uganda, which tolerated and encouraged internal criticisms

and debates, the RPA never tolerated any form of internal disagreement. Those who dared to

question the policies or actions of their leaders were ejected from their positions, severely

reprimanded and, in some extreme instances, killed.744 The objective was to nurture a fighter, not

a professional service member. This high degree of behavioral compliance is a consistent trait that

now defines the character of the resultant Rwandan national army (see Chapter VII). As one

interviewee puts it:

In Rwanda, no soldier can ever dare to disagree with the RPF. The cost is too

high. The soldiers who have done so are those who have fled into exile. Even if

one is a retired soldier here, he simply can’t dare. If he insists to say something

bad about the President, he gets a bullet in his head.745

As a guerrilla group, the RPA waged a war based on several objectives. Right from the start, it

proclaimed its aim as to establish a new government based on a nationalist ideology which,

according to the RPF, entailed dismantling societal hostilities based on ethnic distinctions,

promoting national unity and reconciliation, establishing genuine democracy, resettling and

repatriating all Rwandan refugees and providing security for all Rwandans. These objectives were

outlined in the RPF’s manifesto called the ‘eight-point program’ (see more in chapter IV). To build

trust, the RPF engaged in several activities designed to build a mutual relationship between the

liberated Rwandan people and RPF guerrilla group. They organized social and educational

activities in the bush in which they propagated the ‘nationalist ideology’. The common narrative

in these communal activities was that Rwandans had lived together in harmony, but colonialism

dismantled that unity when whites introduced ethnic distinctions. One of the most famous songs

that was sung during RPF propaganda events proclaimed that:

It is the white man who has caused all that, children of Rwanda. He did it in

order to find a secret way to pillage us. When they [the Europeans] arrived, we

were living side by side in harmony. They were unhappy that they could not find

743 Interviewee (O6) who preferred anonymity 744 Interviewee (O7) who preferred to remain anonymous 745 Interview with a Rwandan Government Executive Secretary who preferred to remain anonymous (August 20, 2015)

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a way to divide us. They invented different origins for us, children of Rwanda:

some were supposed to have come from Chad, others from Ethiopia. We were a

fine tree, its parts all in accord, children of Rwanda. Some of us were banished

abroad, to never come back. We were separated by this division, children of

Rwanda, but we have overcome the White man’s trap....So, children of Rwanda,

we are all called to unite our strength to build Rwanda.746

The new recruits and the inhabitants of the liberated areas were also required to attend patriotism

lessons in which they were taught that ethnic division was a function of colonial legacy. The RPF

presented itself as Inkotanyi, meaning a fighting group that is neither Hutu nor Tutsi, but which

accepts anyone who believes in its nationalistic ideology. RPF organizer Athanasius Karisa has

emphasized that the fundamental rule for the new recruits into the RPF was to “forget who Hutu

is and who is Tutsi” but live together, form work committees, build shelters, gather food, elect

their own leaders and settle conflicts peacefully among themselves.747 Through these events, the

RPF was able to create a strong cohesive force because of its success at institutional bonding,

leader-and-peer bonding, and organizational bonding. RPF fighters fought together and lived

together under harsh conditions. Unlike the NRA in Uganda, which was forced to contend with a

series of defections at the onset of the civil war, the RPF never faced serious defections even in

defeat. Trust within and among members and the belief in their ultimate mission was paramount,

enhancing teamwork as members watched each other’s backs and pulled together in the pursuit of

a higher goal. Within the fighting groups, a strong emphasis on social relationships meant that

members knew each other, trusted each other, and looked after each other. In their respective

groups, combatants knew each other by name, face and looked at each other as individuals with a

joint mission to accomplish. Of course, the fact that the RPA was a guerrilla group constituted by

mostly Tutsi fighting a Hutu-dominated regime meant that a strong emphasis on social relationship

as a collective good was largely driven by the subjective interest for survival. Internal social

cohesion helped the RPF overcome numerous challenges, including shortage of manpower, limited

food supplies and lack of weapons. Even when they lost some battles, the RPF remained a strong

cohesive force because the group nurtured resilience and professionalism within the organization

746 Moeschberger, Scott & Dezalia A.P. Rebekah (2014) “Symbols that bind, symbols that divide: the semiotics of peace and conflict Peace psychology book series, P. 165. Cham; New York: Springer 747 Human Rights Watch “The Rwanda Patriotic Front” Available online https://www.hrw.org/reports/1999/rwanda/Geno15-8-03.htm#P726_234269 (Accessed February 17, 2018)

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to the extent that fighters were eager to continue with their mission even when poorly fed and

unpaid. It is this high level of social cohesion and discipline that is now a constant trait of the

Rwandan army (see next chapter). As Col. Jill Rutaremara, a former director of Rwanda Peace

Academy and a former spokesperson of the Rwandan army, explains:

We were a weak group and recognized our weakness. We knew that we were

facing a threat from a regime that used ethnicity as a vehicle for retaining power.

We had to nurture fighters committed to the mission of liberating our country.

So, discipline, sacrifice and service above self became the foundation of our

struggle. We overwhelmed the regime even though we were few in number

because we had fighters who believed in our [liberation] cause.748

Unlike the NRA in Uganda, the RPA never trusted the peasants in areas under its effective control.

Thus, it created a tight system of control meant to regulate the movement of peasants in and out of

its areas of jurisdiction. In fact, some RPA officials have revealed that they preferred to operate in

empty villages to avoid the burden of protecting civilians when attacked. Also, because of the fear

of defections, information leakage and betrayal, RPA officials considered local populations risky

and a hindrance to effective military campaign. Thus, whereas the NRA in Uganda pushed

civilians into areas under its control, the RPF encouraged people in areas under its control to flee

to the government side or to take refuge in neighboring countries such as Uganda. Civilians who

remained were tightly controlled in camps and rarely allowed to move back to their villages.

President Kagame himself made this clear in 1992 during an RPF Central Command meeting when

he noted that: “Since there was no possibility of winning local support, the population was to be

viewed as a security risk and so areas needed to be cleared.”749 Kagame’s statement can be

interpreted as a recognition of ethnic differences and points to concerns over trust and betrayal.

Many RPF officials interviewed for this research argue that, because they inherited a country with

deep-rooted ethnopolitical divisions, it was imperative to adopt a nationalist ideology so as to

748 Interview with Col. Jill Rutaremara, former director of Rwanda Peace Academy (September 3, 2017) and former national spokesperson of Rwandan Defence Force 749 Barrie, Collins (2014) Rwanda 1994: The Myth of the Akazu Genocide Conspiracy and its Consequences Palgrave Mcmillan: Basingstoke

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establish ethnic harmony and a sense of nationhood. This explains why, after capturing power, the

RPF started by creating a government of national unity in which all ethnic groups and the defeated

MRND party were represented. Even within the military, the RPF attempted to assimilate

government soldiers who had served in the vanquished Forces Armeés Rwandaises, or FAR.

Although the RPF had achieved a decisive military victory, it chose to co-opt soldiers who had

served the ousted regime. Some of these ex-soldiers were well trained and some had fled with their

weapons hoping to launch a rebellion. However, some FAR soldiers had participated in genocide

and were divided along ethnic lines. After the assassination of Habyarimana, the military became

fractured, with some supporting mass killings of the Tutsi and others opposing. Some FAR groups

staged roadblocks, searched Tutsi homes and engaged in organized killings. Although RPF elites

are quick to highlight the role of FAR soldiers in fueling genocide, several accounts allude to the

fact that not all senior military members in FAR supported the genocide. It has been argued that

some soldiers attempted to stop the genocide with little to no success.750 For instance, the military

chief of staff Marcel Gatsinzi was opposed to the idea of incorporating the army into organized

genocidal killing projects, which led to him getting expelled. He was replaced by Augustin

Bizimungu, a notorious army commander who, alongside Defence Minister Théoneste Bagosora,

became infamous for their roles in the systematic killings of Tutsi people.751 The two army officials

worked with the ‘interahamwe”, a paramilitary group affiliated with the ruling party that

spearheaded the 1994 genocide (see next section). Thus, the army became complicit in genocide

because it facilitated genocidal groups engaged in targeted exterminations of Tutsi communities.

Also, the army engaged heavily in propagating ethnic hatred using the military-owned media, in

planning the executions of Tutsi and in protecting the ‘interahamwe’.752 For instance, influential

military leaders like Col. Serubuga and the late Col. Sagatwa co-owned a newspaper called

Kangura.753 The newspaper became a vessel for sowing ethnic divisions and hateful propaganda

against the Tutsi. It published articles laced with ethnic innuendoes, claiming to provide a periodic

review of ethnic typologies and the origins of ethnic differences in Rwandan society. The level of

propaganda and dehumanization of the Tutsi significantly increased in 1993 after the RPF

increased its attacks on government forces. The publication churned out pieces that questioned the

750 Prunier (2002), Ibid. 751 Waugh, C. M. (2004) Paul Kagame and Rwanda: Power, Genocide and the Rwandan Patriotic Front. London: McFarland and Co. 752 Beswick, Danielle (2014) “The risks of African Military Capacity Building: Lessons from Rwanda” African Affairs, 1–20 753 At least twenty other papers printed similar materials dehumanizing Tutsi in the lead to genocide.

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loyalty of the Tutsi serving in the Rwandan military and even asked the Hutu to become curious

about the motives of their Tutsi neighbors. For instance, in a December 1990 issue, it published

what it called the “Hutu Ten Commandments,” which included the idea that Rwandan armed forces

must be exclusively Hutu, that no military personnel should marry a Tutsi, that all strategic posts

must be held by the Hutu, and that the Hutu should stop having mercy on the Tutsi. 754 It was, as

one RPF general puts it, “an army that espoused bigotry, hatred and evil.”755

Backed by financial and military support from Uganda, the RPF launched its first attack on October

1, 1990 against the government in Rwanda,756 which responded by launching a military

counterattack, and targeting Tutsi civilians inside the country it accused of supporting the rebels.

Within three days Habyarimana had detained between 10,000 and 15,000757 domestic opponents

and eventually jailed between 8,000 to 15,000 civilians.758 Zaire quickly deployed its armoured

units to support Rwanda and blunt the rebels’ advance, but they were withdrawn when they

engaged in looting. Belgium deployed troops to evacuate its nationals and they were gone within

two months. France deployed troops to support the government, bolstering Habyarimana’s resolve

to fight on.759 With help from French tactical units, government soldiers organized several

counterattack operations that were effective in halting the rebels’ advance.760 The height of this

struggle came on October 23, 1990, when the Rwandan army killed 300 RPF rebels, including

three of their top commanders.761 Thus, like the NRA in Uganda, the RPF initially suffered heavy

losses and a few of its fighters fled back to Uganda, while others escaped and hid in the northern

mountains amidst heavy losses.

The RPF later regrouped, re-armed, built up strength and prepared for its next offensive.

Eventually it captured more territories in the northern areas and created a secure space within

754 More on “Ten Hutu Commandments” is available online: academic.udayton.edu/race/06hrights/GeoRegions/Africa/Rwanda01.htm (Accessed February 20, 2018) 755 Interview with General Mugambage. Ibidi. 756 Kanduza, M. (2011) “Resilience of a nation: A history of the military in Rwanda” African Historical Review, 43(2), 132-134. 757 Prunier, Gerald. (1993) “Elements pour une histoire du Front patriote rwandais,” Politique Africaine, Vol 51, pp 121–138. 758 Des Forges, A. et al. (1999) “Leave None to Tell the Story: Genocide in Rwanda” Washington, DC: Human Rights Watch. 759 Reyntjens, Filip. (1994) “L’Afrique des Grands Lacs en Crise: Rwanda, Burundi1988–1994” (Paris: Karthala), p 21 760 Reed, W. C. (1996) “Exile, reform, and the rise of the Rwandan Patriotic Front,” Journal of Modern African Studies, Vol 34, No 3, pp 479–501 761 Prunier, Gerald (1993). ibid. pg. 133.

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which to operate. Even before its first attack, the RPF had already built a powerful political and

military organization supported by many Tutsi in the diaspora.762 It gained strength through

political mobilization, military training and lobbying initiatives in the United States and Europe,

and robustly recruited from many Tutsi exiles in Uganda, Burundi, Tanzania and Zaire. Around

January 1991, the RPA moved further to the Virunga mountain ranges and carried out attacks on

the prefecture of Ruhengeri, considered the heartland of Habyarimana’s Hutu regime. This raid

demonstrated that the RPF were not defeated as they successfully overran a prison and freed many

inmates. This sent shockwaves through the regime in Kigali and prompted calls for talks between

the government and the RPF. The regime responded by staging retaliatory massacres against Tutsi

civilians in Ruhengeri and Gisenyi areas.763 Emboldened by confusion within the government, the

RPA moved to cut off the road linking Uganda to Rwanda and rerouting all the traffic through

Tanzania. By the end of the first quarter of 1991, it was apparent that the regime in Kigali had lost

its monopoly on legitimate use of force and its capacity to project effective control throughout the

Rwandan territory. While the RPF was not exclusively in-charge of the entire Rwandan territory,

it had successfully wrestled a significant part of the territory from the control of the Habyarimana’s

regime, and essentially monopolized violence within this territory, though it could not yet claim

the legitimate monopoly of violence in the Weberian sense.

The intensity of the armed struggle forced the regime in Kigali to introduce major reforms aimed

at accommodating the demands of Tutsi groups and settling the ‘refugee question’. For instance,

the regime agreed to hold peace talks with the rebels in Arusha, Tanzania.764 In June 1991, a single-

party system of government was abandoned when the government introduced a new constitution

based on a multiparty system. And, in April 1992, a new coalition government came into effect,

with a prime minister coming from the opposition side. For many local and international observers,

the reforms adopted by the government showed important steps to end the war, but to the RPF this

was not enough. Indeed, some observers have argued that the RPF had to “attack when it did, as

progress in both those fields would have gravely diminished the legitimacy of a violent attempt at

overthrowing the regime.”765

762 Patrycja Stys, P. (2012). Revisiting Rwanda. The Journal of Modern African Studies, 50(4), 707-720. 763 Watson, C. (1991) “Exile from Rwanda: Background to an Invasion” Washington, DC: US Committee for Refugees 764 Khadigala, Gilbert (2002) “Implementing the Arusha Peace Agreement on Rwanda.” In Ending Civil Wars: The Implementation, edited by Steven John Stedeman, Rothchild, and Elizabeth M. Cousens, 463-498. U.S.A: Lynne Rienner Publisher, Inc., 2002. 765 Reyntjens, Filip. (2013) Political Governance in Post-Genocide Rwanda, Cambridge University Press. pg.15

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The RPF Leadership, Internal Organization and the Museveni Factor

In terms of internal organization, the RPF, like the NRA in Uganda, had well-organized structures

and strong leaders. Apart from the group’s first overall commander Fred Rwigyema and his

successor Paul Kagame, other prominent leaders at the time of the invasion included Tito

Rutaremara (the founding coordinator in-charge of cadre recruitment and later RPF’s Secretary

General and chief ombudsman; Protais Musoni (the founding vice chairman and later head of the

Electoral Commission); Patrick Mazimpaka (the director of external affairs and top peace

negotiator during war and later minister for foreign affairs); Theogene Rudasingwa (the deputy

chief negotiator and later chief of cabinet); Karenzi Karake (its top envoy to the 1991 peace talks,

director of war operations during the genocide and later chief of army operations); Dennis Karera

(the top representative to the first 1990 peace talks, and later head of now defunct police

commission or police communale); Aloisea Inyumba (the director of finance during the war and

later gender minister); Charles Murigande (chief representative to Washington and later foreign

affairs minister); Emmanuel Ndahiro (a personal physician of Paul Kagame and later National

Security Adviser); and Wilson Rutayisire (a member of its top executive committee, its

spokesperson during war and later director of information).

Although the RPF was boosted by leaders with impeccable military and organizational skills, the

death of Rwigyema on the third day of the invasion left the rebels in disarray. His death, in the

early days of the civil war, created a power struggle within RPF ranks and threatened to split the

movement until Kagame, who was chief of intelligence in the Ugandan army but was at the time

attending military training at Fort Leavenworth in the United States, returned home on October

14, 1990 to replace Rwigyema as the RPF’s top commander. Kagame quickly stamped his

authority on RPF by re-organizing the rebel’s political and military structures.766

Almost the entire top leadership of the RPF had connection to Uganda by the virtue of the role

they played in the Ugandan liberation struggle. They had fled to Uganda as refugees in the 1960s

and 1970s and served in top positions in the Ugandan government and army when Museveni

captured power in 1986. For instance, RPF’s founding leader Fred Rwigyema had joined

766 Misser, F. (1995) Vers un nouveau Rwanda? Entretiens avec Paul Kagame Brussels: French Editions Luc Pire.

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Museveni’s NRA guerrilla group and rose through the ranks to become one of its finest field

commanders. He was highly valued as one of the most skilled and fearless soldiers who won

several bloody battles against forces loyal to Amin or Obote. It was not surprising that within four

years after the NRA captured power in Uganda, he was elevated to become the second overall

commander of Ugandan military and the Minister of Defence in Museveni’s new government.

However, like many Rwandan refugees in exile, Rwigyema harboured ambitions of toppling

Habyarimana’s majority Hutu regime. Some accounts indicate that Rwigyema believed that he

required about 1,000 troops for his initial invasion, but he was concerned that Museveni could

either not help him raise the required number of combatants or might even try to stop him.

Some accounts indicate that Rwigyema believed that both the RPF and the NRA had been

infiltrated by Habyarimana’s agents, so his plans were revealed only to a small Tutsi group within

the NRA. This group was under strict orders not to reveal the invasion plan to anyone outside the

group. Since many Tutsi soldiers were serving in the NRA, which had become Uganda’s national

army, Rwigyema was careful to ensure that his actions did not raise questions about the loyalty of

Tutsi soldiers to Museveni. Some RPF soldiers have since revealed that they learned about the

invasion a day before it happened.767 Furthermore, Museveni has stated that he was “surprised by

the speed and the size of the desertions,” indicating that he was startled by Rwigyema’s decision

to launch a guerrilla movement. Museveni has since emphasized that, after the invasion, his

priority was to ensure that the RPF was not defeated and that it could at least use its position to

achieve an upper hand during negotiations. Museveni has admitted that he was not aware that the

RPF would attack Rwanda when it did. He also acknowledged that Rwigyema had sought to meet

him before the invasion, but that he (Museveni) was too busy for the meeting. He then suggested

to Rwigyema that they could meet when he returned from New York after attending a UN

conference. He explained that:

While in New York, I got a phone call from Mugisha Muntu, who was Army

commander then, that the Banyarwanda members of NRA had escaped and

entered Rwanda. In fact, Fred Rwigyema had even sent me a message to that

effect. It was in the middle of the night in New York. President Habyarimana

767 Misser. ibid. 1995, p 66; Prunier. Ibdi. 1993, pp 129–130).

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was also in New York. I tried to call him, but I was told that he was asleep and

could not be woken up.768

In a further discussion about the situation that led to RPF invasion and how it complicated his

political calculus, Museveni explained that Uganda was already constrained by its insurgency war

with the Lord’s Resistance Army (LRA) in the north. In addition, Uganda was providing support

to the Sudan People’s Liberation Army in South Sudan and did not have good bilateral relations

with Kenya. Opening a new military front against Rwanda could have been counterproductive for

Uganda at a time when it was also facing serious internal socio-economic challenges. He said:

This action by the Banyarwanda officers and soldiers of NRA complicated our

geo-strategic situation. …. In fact, I had put Fred Rwigyema to be in charge of

that effort [fighting LRA], based at Oraba, Koboko.769

After he was informed by phone of the Rwanda invasion, Museveni says that he was not happy

that Rwigyema and Kagame hid the plan from him, though he had anticipated such an eventuality

and had warned Habyarimana about a looming civil war if he didn’t resolve the refugee question.

Museveni tried to establish contact with Habyarimana while in New York and the two leaders

agreed to halt the invasion and start negotiations with the rebels. Museveni then sent orders to

stop any further defections of troops from Uganda to Rwanda and the Ugandan military mounted

roadblocks on the border with Rwanda, capturing about 500 fleeing Tutsi soldiers. However,

things changed course when, while on his way from New York, Habyarima made a stopover in

Brussels, where he launched a public rebuke of Museveni, accusing him of sponsoring the invasion

and vowing to defeat the RPF within days. Feeling angry and betrayed by Habyarimana, Museveni

reversed his order and decided to fully support the invasion. He has since stated that:

Faced with this situation, I decided on a two-elements position: support RPF so

that they are not defeated, on the one hand; and engage the late President

Habyarimana to agree to a negotiated solution on the other hand. That is how the

Arusha negotiations started. One European ambassador based in Kigali at that

768 President Museveni’s speech made on July 4, 2009 to the people of Rwanda during celebrations to mark the 15 anniversary of the Rwanda Patriotic Front (RPF) takeover of power in the East African Community member-state 769 Museveni’s speech.Ibid.

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time came to see me in Entebbe. He told me words to the effect that I should tell

RPF to stop fighting; otherwise, the 900,000 Tutsis in Rwanda could be wiped

out. I think I told him something like those who kill innocent people always

perish.770

Even though Rwigyema’s action to hide the invasion plan from Museveni enraged the Ugandan

leader, it was highly unlikely that Museveni would have abandoned Rwigyema. Museveni had

always spoken fondly about the role played by Rwigyema and other Rwandan exiles in the

liberation of Uganda. Although he had placed Rwigyema and other Rwandan exiles in top

government and military positions, he was inspired by their longstanding ambition to liberate their

home country. In a 2009 speech, Museveni noted that Rwigyema kept telling him “about his

homeland Rwanda — from which they [Tutsi] were excluded by the sectarian regime that was in

charge.”771

In a later explanation about Rwigyema’s role in Rwanda and Uganda’s liberation, Museveni noted

that having been impressed by Rwigyema’s fighting skills and his imposing role in the NRA

struggle, he nominated him for a senior command course in the United States. But Rwigyema

surprised Museveni when he turned down the offer and instead recommended Kagame for the

opportunity. Instead, Rwigyema started mobilizing Rwandan exiles in the region to invade

Rwanda. It was Rwigyema who led a force of about 4,000 combatants made up of majority Tutsi

refugees in the initial attack on the Habyarimana regime.

Failed Political Settlements & Peace-Talks

Faced with the worsening regional security situation, peace negotiations were initiated between

Habyarimana’s government and its armed opposition, the RPF in July 1992. The chief negotiator

was Faustin Birindwa, the Prime Minister of Zaire (now Congo). The talks were facilitated by Ali

Hassan Mwinyi (President of Tanzania), Yoweri Museveni (President of Uganda) and Melchior

Ndadaye, (President of Burundi). In attendance also were representatives from observer countries

such as Germany, the United States, France, Nigeria and Zimbabwe. The peace talks culminated

in the signing of the Arusha peace accord on August 4, 1993. The accord contained several

770 President Museveni’s Speech on July 4, 2009 during celebrations to mark the 15 anniversaries of the RPF. 771 President Museveni’s speech. July 4, 2009.ibid.

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protocols on power-sharing in Rwanda, rule of law, refugee repatriation and merging rebels and

government forces to form a united national army. This accord fundamentally reduced the

President’s powers, the RPF was to become a political party and, like other mainstream parties,

participate in the selection of members of the National Assembly. In the new coalition government,

decisions were to be taken by a two-thirds rule and the support of other parties was needed to

secure enough votes required to pass decisions in a Transitional National Assembly. Furthermore,

it was agreed that the national army would be made up of 60 percent government soldiers, majority

of whom were Hutu, and 40 percent would be RPF, which was mostly Tutsi. This formula of

military integration applied to the regular army and not to the command-and-control structure

where positions from battalion level upward were to be shared equally between the government

and the RPF.772

Several political observers and some members of the opposition thought the RPF had secured a

good deal and that it would lay down its fighting tools and join the government. They were,

however, shocked when the RPF launched a new offensive in 1993. This offensive eroded faith in

the RPF and left the Habyarima government questioning the RPF’s motives and commitment to

the Arusha peace accord. The situation was exacerbated by a coup in neighbouring Burundi, where

a Hutu President, Melchior Ndadaye, was assassinated by a Tutsi-dominated military in October

1993773. His assassination sparked a series of massacres between the Tutsi and Hutu ethnic groups

in Burundi, leading to a prolonged civil war in that country. In neighboring Rwanda, Hutu

politicians were keenly watching the massacres in Burundi and believed they faced a similar fate

if the RPF took power. By the last quarter of 1993, the Arusha accord was as good as dead and the

process of forming a coalition government was halted by both parties. The downing of

Habyarimana’s presidential jet on April 6, 1994 foreshadowed the resumption of civil war in

Rwanda, leading to genocide against the Tutsi and some moderate Hutu by Hutu extremists.

Eventually, the RPF defeated the regime and stopped the genocide, but not before war crimes and

772 See the Arusha Peace Accord between the Government of the Republic of Rwanda and the Rwandese Patriotic Front. Available online: http://www.incore.ulst.ac.uk/services/cds/agreements/pdf/rwan1.pdf 773 Lemarchand, René (2001) "Foreign Policy Making in the Great Lakes Region." In Gilbert M. Khadiagala and Terrence Lyons (eds.), African Foreign Policies: Power and Process (Boulder, Colo: Lynne Rienner), pp. 87-106.

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crimes against humanity had been committed by both parties to the conflict.774 The RPF ultimately

declared victory on July 18, 1994, following the capture of the capital, Kigali.

The RPF’s Struggle to Consolidate & Institutionalize Power

Following its eventual capture of power in Rwanda, the RPF inherited a country in which it was

considered an ‘outsider’ force coming from abroad. Many RPF members had lived as refugees

outside Rwanda for their entire lives and therefore lacked a solid understanding of the socio-

political dynamics inside the country. And, while RPF leaders considered themselves ‘liberators’

who had ousted a dictatorial regime, most Rwandans gave them a lukewarm welcome, leaving

them disappointed. As a guerrilla movement, the RPF had survived as a closed group of trusted

colleagues. This pushed it towards self-reliance and suspicion of anything or anyone outside the

core circles of its ranks. After capturing power, the RPF realized that to consolidate its position

and establish effective control, it needed to rely on a network of individuals who could be trusted.

Building this network in a country rife with ethno-political divisions was a difficult task.

The first challenge faced by the new government was what to do with the remnants of the Forces

Armées Rwandaises (FAR), an army largely composed of ethnic Hutu that remained aligned to

the now ousted regime. Skirmishes between the surviving FAR and the RPA (the armed wing of

RPF) continued for some time. With FAR’s final defeat on July 18, 1994, at the battle of Gisenyi

in the north-western part of the country,775 the RPF established effective control of the country,

except “safe humanitarian zones” in the south-west that remained under the French Operation

Turquoise. The FAR and its aligned civilian militia force called the ‘Interahamwe’ were

responsible for most of the killings that took place during the genocide. After they were defeated

in Gisenyi, they trekked further into the Democratic Republic of Congo (then Zaire), where they

recruited and continued to cause havoc along the north-western border of Rwanda. They later

became known as the Forces Démocratiques de Libération du Rwanda, or FDLR).776

774 Straus, S. and WalTrinidad and Tobagodorf, L. 2011: Introduction: Seeing like a post-conflict state. In Straus, S. and Waldorf, L., editors, Remaking Rwanda: State building and human rights after mass violence. University of Wisconsin Press, 3–21 775 Alan J. Kuperman (2004) “Provoking genocide: a revised history of the Rwandan Patriotic Front” Journal of Genocide Research, 6:1, 61-84 776 Kakwenzire, J. and Kamukama, D. (1999) “The development and consolidation of extremist forces in Rwanda,” in H. Adelman and A. Suhrke, eds, The Path of a Genocide: The Rwanda Crisis from Uganda to Zaire (New Brunswick, NJ: Transaction).

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When the new government was inaugurated in Kigali, there was hope that it would reflect the spirit

of the Arusha agreement.777 However, such hopes were misplaced. Very quickly it became clear

that the RPF was less interested in democracy than in consolidating power through military

coercion. Perhaps this should not have come as a surprise considering the principles that

underpinned the creation of the RPF. Article 2 of the Declaration of the RPF raised eyebrows about

the group’s commitment to democracy and the rule of law. Under this article, the presidency would

no longer be a ceremonial position but an executive, dominant force with almost absolute powers.

The President was to be consulted on every decision and he would single-handedly approve the

composition of the government before it took effect. Moreover, if the government became

gridlocked and thus unable to generate a consensus, the President was empowered “to decide in a

sovereign way.”778

It should be noted that, even with such powers granted to the RPF President, the first post-genocide

government presented was some sort of a quasi-ethnic coalition, composed of Hutu and Tutsi

individuals. A majority of members in the coalition were returning from exile and thus did not

constitute the same level of entrenched “residue” social structure as it was case with Uganda. They

represented more individual interests, unlike in Uganda where individuals in the first postwar

government represented interests of organized institutions of power/influence. While the Tutsi

dominated government structures, the first post-genocide president, Pasteur Bizimungu, was a

Hutu who had been co-opted into the RPF’s formal political structure during the struggle. Faustin

Twagiramungu, the prime minister, was a Hutu, as was his deputy, Alexis Kanyarengwe. The only

member of the minority Tutsi ethnic group in the official top echelons of power was Kagame, who

was named Vice President and Defence Minister. Although some observers saw this arrangement

as a sign that the RPF was coming through with its initial promise to create a broad-based coalition

government,779neither of these Hutu leaders, including the President, wielded real power. Effective

power remained in the hands of General Kagame. Equally important, the functions of the vice

president, as introduced by the RPF Declaration, were vague and undefined, which helped Kagame

to exploit the position for several political projects. Kagame was considered a Vice-President on

paper but in practice real power was vested in him, making him the real president. Indeed, when a

777 Jones, B. D. (1999) “The Arusha peace process,” in H. Adelman and A. Suhrke, eds, The Path of a Genocide: The Rwanda Crisis from Uganda to Zaire (New Brunswick, NJ: Transaction). 778 Article 2 of the Declaration of RPF 779 The Economist “Rwanda-in and out” 1 April 200. p.43.

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disagreement broke out between Vice President Kagame and the President Bizimungu, the latter

was summarily dismissed, and the former took over the presidency (see next section). Even in the

Cabinet, the RPF made sure that its majority was safeguarded. In the coalition government, the

RPF took three of the five cabinet positions previously allocated to the former ruling party,

MRNDD. The existing law required that Cabinet decisions required a two-thirds majority to pass

through. The RPF had eight positions out of a total of twenty-one and took over the six seats for

military. This meant RPF could block unfavorable decisions, ensuring that the President could

make those decisions under his authority to “decide in a sovereign way.”780

In Parliament, too, the RPF took necessary measures to ensure that it enjoyed an unrivalled

majority by creating several parliamentary positions for groups it controlled. While the legislative

seats originally reserved for the MRNDD and other parties excluded from participation in power

were shared among all parties represented in the Transitional National Assembly (TNA), the RPF

later introduced some reforms which allocated a further six seats to its military wing, the RPA,

which had since become the national army. Those six MPs were selected from a group of top

military officials. This, coupled with support from other smaller allied parties, helped the RPF to

secure a resounding majority in the National Assembly. With Parliament fully constituted and the

election of party representatives finalized, the RPF moved to shape the new legal framework in its

favour. The so-called ‘Fundamental Law’ was adopted by the TNA in May 1995 and

retrospectively enforced to July 17, 1994. Under this law, several documents including the

Constitution of 1991, the Arusha peace accord, the RPF Declaration and the protocol signed

between the RPF and other smaller parties on November 24, 1994, were conferred with

constitutional status. However, other than the RPF Declaration, the other legal documents were

simply ‘paper tigers’ meant to sanitize and legitimize RPF rule. It was the RPF Declaration that

defined the new constitutional order in Rwanda and which, in practice, sat at the peak of the

constitutional hierarchy and legalized the RPF’s unfettered control. In general, this strategy served

the interests of the RPF well because it managed to hide “the monolithic nature of power

exercise.”781 Under the guise of ‘power-sharing’ and political reconciliation, the RPF was also

able to convince the international community that it had created the much-needed structures and

new constitutional order to facilitate post-genocide reconciliation.

780 Reyntjens. (2013) Ibid. p.2 781 Reyntjens. (2013) ibid. p.4

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Having said all that, I question the RPF’s unconstrained control of the post-genocide political

process, when we examine the mechanism through which key positions were determined in the

new post-genocide government. Within the RPF, there were certain elites with a genuine interest

in accommodating ethnic representation. The RPF had won a decisive military victory and had

ended the genocide. It enjoyed goodwill both within and outside Rwanda, so it could have chosen

to exclude other parties from the new government. However, the RPF did make some genuine

attempts to accommodate other political parties and to include in government members of the Hutu

ethnic group. For instance, when the new government was constituted in July 1994, Prime Minister

Twagiramungu was picked from the Mouvement Démocratique Républicain (MDR). There were

four ministers from the MDR, three from Parti Libéral (PL), three from the Parti Social Démocrate

(PSD), and one from the Parti Démocratique Chrétien (PDC). The RPF got eight members while

one was independent. In total, twelve ministers were Hutu and nine Tutsi. In the Parliament

constituted in November 1994, there were twenty-nine Hutu representatives and thirty-five Tutsi.

Also, there were six MPs whose ethnic identity was unspecified. Thus, the composition of the new

government represented some degree of political and ethnic representation, even though, whenever

the RPF faced threats to its hold on power, it always resorted to violence and military threats to

thwart those attempts.

To the RPF’s credit, the process of establishing political structures in the post-genocide Rwanda,

however imperfect, progressed remarkably uninterrupted, to the satisfaction of many political

observers and donors.782 Fundamentally, the process was effective in part because it was highly

controlled from the top and purposefully executed by the RPF with impressive political techniques.

Notwithstanding this achievement, the RPF’s recourse to violence and coercion to force

compliance from the majority Hutu population left a lot to be desired. Faced with growing

insecurity near the border with Congo, the RPF became politically insecure. Its leaders feared that

hundreds of thousands of Hutu refugees who fled the country to eastern Congo were planning to

re-group, re-arm and return to oust the new government. Some of these refugees were responding

to a series of announcements made by ex-government officials who encouraged the Hutu people

to leave Rwanda and launch a counterinsurgency operation against the new RPF government. For

782 Samset, Ingrid (2011) “Building a repressive peace: The case of post-genocide Rwanda.” Journal of Intervention and Statebuilding 5, 265–83

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example, one announcement on the former government radio said that it had taken RPF four years

to form an army but "we will take one month to come back with five million."783 One Hutu

businessman fleeing to Congo noted that; "We are going to prepare ourselves to come back, just

like the Tutsi prepared themselves.784

Although the genocide had been stopped and security restored, many RPF officials couldn’t

understand why the people they had ‘saved’ from the tyranny of the Habyarimana regime

continued to flow to neighbouring Congo as refugees. The fear was that many Hutu communities

did not want to be ruled by a Tutsi-led government and thus were leaving the country. Such fears

were certainly not misplaced. As another fleeing Hutu refugee explained that “the reason we're

going abroad is to convince the international community that we do not support the RPF and we

want to show the world that we have confidence in our [ousted] government that has fled.”785

The reaction of the RPF to the refugee crisis was swift and brutal. It amassed a military force along

the Congo border and unleashed deadly violence to contain the crisis and forcefully repatriate

thousands. A United Nations report issued in September 1994 accused the RPF of "an

unmistakable pattern of killings and persecution".786 The report further revealed that the victims

of this violence were members of ethnic Hutu group who had sought shelter in Congo or those

who were fleeing Rwanda. Already, some Rwandans were pointing out the similarities in the

killing patterns between the old regime and the RPF. For instance, in a September 1994 document

titled “From Charybdis to Scylla”, Laurien Ntezimana, a pastoral worker who became locally

prominent for his opposition to 1994 genocide, criticized the climate of terror, killings, systematic

rape and massive arrest of people for trivial charges like ‘gutunga agatoki’ (pointing fingers) at

RPF military victors and Tutsi officials.787

In addition, as the RPF embarked on several strategies to consolidate its hold on power, its

commitment to the principles that led to the establishment of a broad-based governing coalition

783 New York Times “U.N. Stops Returning Rwandan Refugees” 28 September 1994. Available online: http://www.nytimes.com/1994/09/28/world/un-stops-returning-rwandan-refugees.html (Accessed November 14, 2017) 784 See the interview of Kaibanda Ammugeco, the owner of a housing construction company who was fleeing to Zaire (DRC). Published in the New York Times: July 20,1994 785 New York Times. Ibid. 786 New York Times. Ibid 787 Reyntjens. (2013). ibid.

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come into question. For instance, the main opposition party MDR published a critical document

in November 1994, outlining serious setbacks in the coalition government and criticizing the RPF

for deviating from the law of the land and the Arusha peace accord. In the document, the RPF was

accused of being an obstacle to national reconciliation, blocking civic activities of opposition

groups, failing to improve ethnic representation in the army, failing to stimulate national unity and

violently repatriating refugees. Opposition groups had agreed to form the initial coalition with the

RPF believing that the RPF was committed to creating a representative government. But soon the

RPF was embarking on high-handed projects intended to entrench its hegemony. For instance,

instead of reforming the army to improve ethnic representation, the army remained a Tutsi-

dominated institution. As examined in the next chapter, the first post-genocide President, a Hutu,

was largely considered ‘a symbolic President’ who occupied the office but lacked authority to

make decisions without the approval of the military. Political power remained concentrated in the

Office of the Vice President; a position occupied by General Kagame before he became President

of Rwanda.

What is perhaps more disturbing is that the coalition government failed both at political and

military levels. Bizimungu was not in control of the army and was never respected by RPF military

generals. He was despised as an ‘outsider’ who joined the struggle late, and who had been allowed

to hold the position simply for the sake of symbolizing post-genocide reconciliation.788

Accordingly, the military continued its deadly projects of pacification without the approval and

sometimes without even the knowledge of the President. For instance, there were continued

mysterious deaths and unexplained arrests of many members of the political opposition and

increased insecurity and killing of civilians by the RPA. In fact, these killings created a

disagreement between Prime Minister Twagiramungu and Vice President Kagame. As a member

of an opposition party in a coalition, Twagiramungu enraged Kagame when he publically criticized

the intermittent killings of civilians.789 This forced Kagame to publicly defend the army’s actions

and to accuse Twagiramungu of trying to smear the army’s honour. This exchange pointed to

behind-the-curtains disagreements between top RPF leaders and those who were not part of the

original RPF military network. For instance, after RPA soldiers killed civilians in camps for the

internally displaced in April 1995, a dispute within the government ensued, with some members

788 Interviewee (O8) who preferred to remain anonymous 789 See Twagiramungu’s discussion of his disagreement his RPF. Available online: http://rugali.com/faustin-twagiramungu-ikinyoma-cya-paul-kagame-kiraganisha-he-u-rwanda/ (Accessed April 3, 2018)

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questioning the military’s conduct.790 Yet those who raised queries were swiftly silenced by the

RPF. Interior Minister Seth Sendashonga (1994-1995) wrote several memos to Kagame raising his

concerns but was ignored. Sendashonga decided to take matters in his hands and disbanded the

Local Defence Forces (LDF), who were allegedly responsible for a series of killings and

disappearances. However, these forces were controlled by RPF’s local council cadres, locally

known as abakada, and formed the RPF’s grassroots network. Kagame was reportedly furious

with Sendashonga’s decision. A campaign against Sendashonga was initiated that damaged his

political career. Two years later in 1997, the LDF were reinstated under the pretext that they were

necessary to tackle increased cases of insecurity.791

The extent of the RPF’s dependence on coercion is thus reflected in the strategies it used to achieve

unfettered control of Rwanda’s political space. As shown in the above discussion, the RPF engaged

in several underhand methods to vanquish its opponents. Whenever international human rights

agencies such as Human Rights Watch and Amnesty International raised complaints about the

RPF’s repressive actions, the international diplomatic community appeared indifferent. In many

ways, this situation has continued to date. Western donor countries seem to hold a view that

criticisms of RPF’s overreaching actions were premature and that the regime should be accorded

space to continue with the huge task of re-building a post-genocide society.

Political Control and Managing Dissent

As already highlighted, the RPF publicly presented an image of an organization committed to

political inclusivity, yet behind the scenes a deliberate strategy was hatched to retain power among

small network of elites, majority of whom were former Tutsi refugees. Smaller political parties in

the coalition were deliberately incapacitated and their activities monitored and sabotaged to ensure

that no individual outside the RPF military circle could ever become politically powerful.

Opposition and social groups were subjected to a series of intelligent and secretive spy operations

by state agents. Intelligence reports were compiled on opposition groups, civil society

organizations, academic associations, diplomats and even Hutu politicians serving in the coalition

government.792 These reports were submitted to ruling RPF military elites who scrutinized them

and recommended appropriate action against individuals or groups considered disagreeable to the

790 Reyntjens (2013) Ibid. pg.9 791 Human Rights Watch Report (1999). Available online: https://www.hrw.org/reports/2000/rwanda/Rwan004-10.htm(Accessed April 3, 2018) 792 Interviewee (09) who preferred to remain anonymous

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RPF. A leaked intelligence report submitted in March 1995 revealed the extent of the RPF’s

obsession with control of civic groups and civil servants. It described “enemy activity” and alleged

subversion among non-RPF officials, especially those from the MDR, some civil servants and even

diplomats. Another intelligence report issued on January 19,1995, by Kayumba Nyamwasa and

addressed to President Kagame hinted at fears within RPF circles over elements within the

opposition who were not satisfied with a Tutsi-dominated regime. It noted: “[T]hese MDR

politicians are, like always, making it a tribal issue and are holding secret consultations.”793 Like

the previous report, this one focused on the opposition party MDR, which had produced the

coalition’s prime minister. In fact, the report warned that the RPF should find mechanisms of

displacing the MDR from its rural strongholds or else the RPF would not succeed in its quest to

consolidate power. The main concern of RPF leaders, as captured in the report, was that the MDR’s

grassroots strength would “affect RPF’s hold on the local population.” The report went as far as

saying Hutu ministers serving in the coalition such as Seth Sendashonga and Alexis Kanyarengwe

were holding regular secret meetings with the sole purpose of “finding a way of fighting for the

rights of the (Hutu) majority.” Similarly, another leaked intelligence report issued on February

21,1995, alleged that some legislators were holding “secret meetings . . . at Hotel Kiyovu in room

21” and accused foreigners of sowing “negative tendencies” and “working with the enemy.”794

Apart from monitoring the opposition and other civic groups, the RPF moved swiftly to

reconstitute the country’s judicial system in order to control it, a process driven by the RPF’s

military intelligence. Although the coalition government was in place and was expected to play its

role of vetting and approving judicial officers, privately military elites were pulling the strings.

One leaked intelligence memo talked of a “joint security meeting to review lawyers for the

appointments in the judiciary” held on March 11, 1995, and to vet candidates for the High Court

and lower courts. During the review, candidates’ past experiences and views were scrutinized.

Those considered to have strong anti-RPF views were rejected. Those with positive views about

the ousted Habyarimana regime were kicked out in favor of RPF’s new cadre judges. By the last

quarter of 1999, the entire judicial system had been aligned with the ruling RPF.795

793 Reyntjens Filip., (2013) Ibid.p.5 794 These intelligence reports have been well chronicled in Reyntjens (2013). Ibid.pg.5 795Laurence, Binet (2014). ibid.

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In light of the above discussion, the image of the regime the RPF intended to build in post-genocide

Rwanda becomes evident. Even though it had agreed to form a coalition government so as to signal

its commitment to the idea of national unity, such moves were intended mostly for international

consumption. The RPF agreed to such arrangements insofar as they dovetailed with its strategy of

consolidating power. By 1999, no member of the RPF or the opposition could question what was

going on without risking arbitrary arrest, torture and even death. Critics of the RPF regime argue

that it was more accommodating during the struggle and during the first few years in power,

because it served its broad strategy of acquiring and consolidating power. But once it had achieved

both, it turned repressive against internal and external critics. As one local journalist said:

In theory the system looks democratic but in practice there is no democracy. The

opposition cannot criticize the government and survive. It doesn’t matter

whether one belongs to the opposition or the ruling party; they all must act

according to the wishes and whims of the regime. If anyone dares to question the

regime leader, the consequences are dire.796

Those who insisted on rejecting RPF orders were confronted with the full force of the state. Many

independent voices resigned, were arrested or fled the country into exile. For instance, Jean

Damascène Ntakirutimana, a former director of Cabinet in the Office of the Prime Minister and a

member of the MDR’s political bureau, wrote a memo from Nairobi on June 12, 1995. In it, he

denounced the RPF’s “totalitarian drift” and “the summary executions, torture, arbitrary arrests,

stalemate in the justice system, prohibition of political parties, double talk on the tricky problem

of refugees, repression of the free press and hidden activities of extremist groups”.797

The RPF’s obsession with societal scrutiny and surveillance was apparent from the beginning and

even became more intense after it took power. For instance, while it signed the Arusha peace

accord and agreed to form a coalition government in which there would be a merger of guerrilla

forces with government troops, internal RPF communication shows that its focus remained on

scoring a complete military victory. One internal document stated that “our military strategists

must tell us how the military striking force of the Front can survive the merger of the two armies.

796 Interview with Ignatius Kateera, a local journalist based in Kigali 797 Jean Damascène Ntakirutimana as quoted in Renytjens Filip (2013). Ibid. pg. 10

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At any rate, it is extremely important to maintain this striking force.”798

The consequences of the RPF’s early repression can be seen in the number of politicians, civil

servants, military officers and judges in the previous regime who returned from exile to play a role

in the rebuilding of Rwanda but later became disillusioned and left the country. These officers had

accepted work in the post-genocide coalition government but the RPF was determined to push

them out as part of a political purge intended to consolidate power and rid the system of any

remnants of the previous regime. As many of these officials were Hutu, the RPF was quick to

dismiss their concerns and accused them of being sympathizers of the old regime. In fact, many of

them were branded génocidaires, arrested and charged with crimes related to genocide denial and

revision. Those who managed to flee the country made serious allegations about the RPF’s abuse

of power and blatant violations of human rights. For instance, speaking from exile, Lieutenant

Abdul Ruzibiza described the period between 1994 and 1996 as “the period of massive

imprisonment, arrests and killings, both public and discreet, of an unprecedented magnitude.”799

In the same year, former Justice Minister Nkubito said about 30 judges and prosecutors were

arrested, some killed and others simply “disappeared.” Twagiramungu, the former prime minister

of Rwanda who contested the 2003 presidential election against Kagame and is now exiled in

Belgium, explained that “there is no freedom of speech. You must glorify the system or leave it.

You cannot criticize it. Everyone says if you don’t collaborate with Kagame, you are finished.800

Managing Intra-Tutsi Differences

Any reference to ethnicity remains a contentious issue in Rwanda. Yet while Rwanda’s ethnic

divisions have been examined by many scholars,801 it is also apparent that there are fundamental

political differences in Rwanda that are less (or not) connected to ethnicity. To be clear, any

reference to ethno-racial stratification in this thesis is not meant to reify the ‘ethnic problem’ of

Rwanda but rather to emphasize two important facts: The first is that the current ruling regime in

Rwanda is largely dominated by a minority Tutsi and the second is that the ousted Habyarimana

regime was dominated by a majority ethnic Hutu. It is also a fact that there is a large number of

798 RPF Communication as quoted in Renytjens Filip (2013). Ibid. pg. 7 799 Abdul Ruzibiza cited in Reyntjens. (2013). Ibid. 800 The Economists, August 1, 2017 801 Kiwuwa David (2012) Ethnic Politics and Democratic Transition in Rwanda. New York: Routledge

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Hutu who serve in the current regime in Rwanda just as there were a few Tutsi serving in the

Habyarimana regime. Note: in the next chapter, I show how the current regime has made any

reference to Hutu or Tutsi a taboo as it prefers a more unifying theme of ‘we are all Rwandans”

Apart from the RPF regime facing criticisms that it established an administration largely

dominated by minority Tutsi, the RPF has also had to contend with intra-Tutsi political tensions

and internal dissent. Specifically, post-genocide internal dissent fell in two camps: there was the

‘returnee group’ that was composed of Tutsi who came from exile and played important roles in

the formation of the RPF. The second group was the ‘survival group’ that was composed of Tutsi

who had always lived in Rwanda and had survived the genocide. Each camp had different ideas

about the country’s possible direction after the genocide. Many of the Tutsi who occupied top

positions in the RPF had not grown up in Rwanda and were considered foreigners in the country

they had just ‘liberated’. Although the RPF’s repressive actions were taken in the name of

protecting the Tutsi minority, soon some Tutsi were expressing concerns about the RPF’s extreme

actions. In April 1995, Jean-Pierre Mugabe, a genocide survivor and a proud RPF member, wrote

an article in Le Tribun du Peuple questioning some of the hardline decisions of the RPF which, he

argued, reflected badly on the general image of ethnic Tutsi people.

He wrote:

There are many Tutsi extremists. They are everywhere in the civil service and

we have decided to denounce them. They have arbitrarily arrested many Hutu,

as if all Hutu were Interahamwe. For these extremists even the Tutsi survivors

of the genocide are Interahamwe. Today many of the Tutsi are just as vulnerable

as the Hutu.802

Concerned Tutsi wrote in journals like Le Tribun du Peuple and Ukuri, denouncing the direction

the RPF was taking and questioning the speed at which the ‘returnee group’ had accumulated

material wealth and state privileges at the expense of the Tutsi they found in Rwanda who had

suffered before and during the genocide. Other writers resorted to online platforms and radio

stations to denounce corruption, favoritism and intermittent grabbing of land and houses by Tutsi

returnees. In the November 1998 issue of Le Tribun du Peuple, an editorial803 questioned whether

there was a difference between RPF actions and those of the ousted Habyarimana regime. In it, the

802 Prunier, Gerald. (2008) Africa’s World War: Congo, the Rwandan Genocide, and the Making of a Continental Catastrophe” Oxford University Press. pg. 21 803 Le Tribun du Peuple November, 1998

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author argued that, within the RPF, there was a network of untouchable individuals whose actions

reminded Rwandans of the old Habyarimana regime.

In response to such critical media reports, the RPF issued numerous complaints against the editors

of Le Tribun du Peuple. In particular, it asked the paper’s director to stop giving a platform to

critics of the new government. When the paper’s editors refused to comply, the RPF resorted to

harassment and intimidation. Later, the paper’s director, Jean-Pierre Mugabe, fled the country into

exile in the United States. While in exile, he published a critical article in which he described RPF

rule as based on the “law of the jungle”.804 He further observed that “the genocide perpetrated

against our loved ones has been transformed into a ‘commercial asset’ by these corrupt and money-

hungry authorities that practice the politics of the belly.”805 He wrote a letter to the RPF leadership

outlining serious cases of pillage of national assets, nepotism, misuse of foreign aid, insecurity,

assassinations, arbitrary arrests and removal of serving officers from the army who were not part

of the ‘returnee group.’ Mugabe’s accusations were dismissed by the RPF as “lies” and inspired

by “personal opportunistic motives.”806

The split between the ‘returnee group’ and the ‘survivor group’ (these were not organized social

groups) grew further in part because of the widening economic mismatch between the two groups.

Many individuals in the ‘survivor group’ were concerned that they were economically being left

behind as the ‘returnee group’ accumulated wealth and enjoyed government perks in the post-

genocide era. One exiled genocide survivor interviewed for this research noted:

RPF is led by people who did not suffer during genocide. They were away in

Uganda and some in other countries. For us we were in Rwanda, and it’s us who

know what we went through. I lost three of my relatives and my grandfather is

disabled because of injuries he got in 1994. RPF promised us a lot but they have

delivered little. They have not even compensated us with anything. All they have

been asking us to do is to attend Gacaca courts and share our story. But what do

you gain from sharing your story? Can sharing my story help my disabled

804 See Mugabe’s account of the situation in Rwanda: available online: http://www.marcellison.com/blog/?p=376 (Accessed April 16, 2017) 805 Mugabe, Jean-Pierre “Cri d’alarme au président de la République rwandaise, à tous les Rwandais tant ceux qui résident au Rwanda ou [sic] ceux qui sont à l’étranger”, Press release, 19 March 1999. 806 Reyntjens. (2013). Ibid. p.5

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grandfather? It’s just nothing!807

Several sources interviewed for this research explained that, just like the NRA in Uganda, the RPF

leadership were quite effective at manipulating international opinion. They had effectively

promoted their image as “good guerrillas” who had successfully fought an “evil regime” and

stopped the genocide. Even in situations where the RPF was responsible for violence, it made sure

the (former) government side was blamed. As one interviewee noted:

The strategy was to deny responsibility for any violence committed by RPF. It

was the battle between the ‘good vs evil’. To the outsiders, RPF promoted itself

as ‘a good’ rebel group, fighting the ‘evils’ of Habyarimana’s government.

RPF’s strategy has never changed since the end of genocide. If you see it actions

in eastern Congo or in dealing with internal dissent, it employs violence but

always has someone else to blame for its actions.808

Tensions between the two camps within the Tutsi ethnic group continued to endure throughout the

late 1990s and early 2000s when it culminated in the sudden resignation of Speaker of Parliament

Joseph Sebarenzi, a Tutsi genocide survivor, after pressure from a section of the RPF leadership.

He was accused of exhibiting dictatorial tendencies, craving cheap popularity and seeking

confrontations with RPF leaders of other government agencies, among other allegations. It is

widely believed that he was forced to quit because he belonged to a small group of Tutsi survivors

who were demanding the return of Rwanda’s old monarchy. Fearing for his life, Sebarenzi fled

Rwanda and sought asylum first in Uganda and later settled in North America. A few months after

Sebarenzi’s departure, Prime Minister Pierre-Célestin Rwigema resigned his position while being

investigated by the RPF-dominated Parliament, saying in his resignation letter that “the

controversial interpretations of the subject of the parliamentary probe and the media campaigns

that followed it have created a climate that handicaps the exercise of my function, and are at the

basis of my decision to put an end to it.”809 As soon as his resignation was accepted, Rwigema fled

to the United States, where he sought asylum. He was replaced by Bernard Makuza. It thus can be

argued that within its first six years in power, the RPF had effectively created a culture of fear,

807 Interviewee (O-10) Interviewee (09) who preferred to remain anonymous 808 Interview with a former media owner in Rwanda who now lives in exile (He preferred to remain anonymous) 809 AFP February 28, 2000.

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retaliation and silence that raised concern among local and international observers.810 The initial

coalition government the RPF had formed with other parties, and which was intended to symbolize

post-genocide reconciliation, crumbled on March 23, 2000, with the resignation of President

Bizimungu. In his resignation message to the Speaker, Bizimungu said he had resigned for

“personal reasons.” Vice President Kagame, who many observers had long identified as the

ultimate boss in Rwanda, assumed the presidency on March 29. A joint session of government and

the National Assembly convened on April 1 voted eighty-one against five to approve the move.

A few weeks after his resignation, Bizimungu teamed up with former Public Works Minister

Charles Ntakirutinka to form a new political party that became known as Ubuyanja, or Parti

Democratique de Renouveau (PDR). But this party was instantly banned by the government, which

accused Bizimungu of trying to mobilize Hutu extremists into a radical organization. He was later

arrested on charges of creating a militia, embezzlement of state funds and inciting ethnic violence.

In June 2002, Amnesty International named Bizimungu and Ntakirutinka prisoners of conscience,

emphasizing that they were “detained solely for their perceived or actual peaceful political

affiliations.”811 After spending years in detention, he was convicted in 2004 and sentenced to

fifteen years in jail.

The ultimate rise of President Kagame after the sudden resignation of the country’s prime minister,

parliamentary speaker and then President in just three months was a clear indication that the so-

called government of national unity had ended. Particularly, it meant that all attempts at political

accommodation in the post-genocide government had reached a difficult conclusion. At the same

time, this confirmed the new wave of RPF domination of Rwanda’s socio-political and economic

spheres. In terms of the intra-Tutsi split, Kagame’s dominance reaffirmed the complete takeover

by the ‘returnee group’ amid a well-executed strategy to rid the military of many independent-

minded officers.

Political Reconstruction of Ethnic Identities

When the RPF launched its first military attack in October 1990, it announced what it called the

eight-point programme, intended to provide ideological vision and strategic direction for the

810 Reyntjens, Filip (2011) “Constructing the Truth, Dealing with Dissent, Domesticating the World: Governance in Post-Genocide Rwanda.” African Affairs 110, no. 438: 1–34. 811 Amnesty International June 7, 2002 Statement available online: https://www.amnesty.org.uk/press-releases/rwanda-number-prisoners-conscience-rise

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guerrilla movement.812 The eight points included, among others, consolidation of unity, peace and

security, democracy, building an independent self-sustaining nation, and the repatriation and

resettlement of refugees. Again, the contrast with Uganda’s NRA is interesting: While the NRA’s

ten-point programme opens with the promotion of democracy, the RPF document opens with the

promotion of national unity and reconciliation. Also, given the deeply entrenched ethno-political

divisions in Rwandan society, the RPF left its document open to tinkering in the event political

circumstances changed. After the RPF took power a ninth point about ‘fighting genocide and its

ideology’813 was added. This new addition to the original eight-point programme later formed the

foundation of the RPF’s ideological orientation. This section discusses how the RPF went about

‘fighting genocide ideology.’

Several historical narratives inform the RPF’s approach to ethnic reconstruction in post-genocide

Rwanda. The first is the belief that before colonialism Rwanda was a harmonious society in which

Hutu, Tutsi and Twa lived peacefully side by side. RPF leaders consistently argue that in pre-

colonial Rwandan society, being Hutu, Tutsi or Twa did not constitute an ethnic label but instead

referred to categories of wealth and status. They also argue that the three ethnic groups share a

common history and culture and lived in integrated settlements that facilitated intermarriage and

social mobility. As RPF’s General Mugambage explained:

Rwanda is a country inhabited by people who live together, who speak same

language, who intermarry, but as early as 1920, the colonial administration came

in and introduced ethnic categories of people. They made ethnic groupings;

Hutu, Tutsi, Twa……. These were people of the same culture who lived on the

same hills but still they wanted to divide them. They introduced divisive

structures and even went as far as introducing ethnicities in societies that did not

have them.814

RPF military historians such as Frank Rusagara argue that, although traditionally monarchs were

Tutsi, they nonetheless became caring protectors of all Rwandans irrespective of ethnicity, and

812 Guichaoua, Andre. (2015) From War to Genocide: Criminal Politics in Rwanda, 1990–1994. Madison: University of Wisconsin Press, 201 814 Interview with General Frank Mugambage.ibid.

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that once they assumed the throne, they served all Rwandans without discrimination.815 The third

argument relates to the legacy of colonialism on Rwandan society. RPF leaders emphasize that

peaceful coexistence of Rwanda’s ethnic groups was deliberately dismantled by the colonialists

and the Catholic Church after they introduced a ‘divide and rule policy’ designed to annihilate

Rwandan culture which, they claim, predates colonialism. Tutsi and Hutu were deliberately pitted

against each other as the colonial government fomented ethnic differences, leading to ethnic

politicization. Rwanda’s post-independence regimes copied the colonial policy of racial

segregation and further exacerbated ethnic divisions, leading to the 1994 genocide. As Colonel

Rutaremara, the former director of Rwanda Military Academy, explained:

The Habyarimana regime learned from the colonialists that, to rule people, one

must divide them based on ethnic lines, play one ethnic group against another,

let people focus on their ethnic differences rather than their similarities. Once we

[RPF] came to power, our challenge was to reverse this divisive mentality and

unite our people around a common purpose.816

Certainly, in Rwanda’s post-genocide Constitution (as amended on June 4, 2003), the RPF made

sure to include in the preamble a reminder that Rwandans ‘enjoy the privilege of having one

country, a common language, a common culture and a long shared history which ought to lead to

a common vision of our destiny.’817 The legacy of genocide informed the RPF’s approach to

citizenship and refugee repatriation. Apart from the Hutu-Tutsi divisions (explored above), the

society the RPF had assumed control of was divided between those who fled genocide and those

who never fled but felt excluded by the government. Even among the ‘returnee group,’ there were

differences between the former exiles now in power and those who did not consider themselves

part of the wealthy ruling elite.

To restructure citizenship and establish a sense of nationhood, the RPF engaged in several

approaches designed to de-ethinicize the post-genocide society. RPF leaders argued that their

triumph against genocide conferred upon them a responsibility to build a new nation based on the

815 Rusagara Frank (2009) Resilience of a nation: a history of the military in Rwanda. Kigali: Fountain Publishers Rwanda, p. 209–212. Interview 816 Interview with Col. Jill Rutaremara. Ibid. 817 Rwanda Constitution as amended on June 4, 2003

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rule of law, peace, security, equality and justice for all Rwandans. To redefine who was a Rwandan

and how Rwandans should be identified and protected, the regime outlawed the old national

identity cards on the grounds that they carried holders’ ethnic identity. A new identity card with

no ethnic identification was introduced. New IDs were meant to encourage Rwandans to look at

themselves as Rwandan nationals rather than as Hutu or Tutsi or Twa. As one interviewee put it:

You can’t have one’s tribal identifications on a national ID if you want to create

national unity and a sense of citizenship. What you instead end up doing is

compelling citizens to view themselves through tribal lenses. This is precisely

what the colonial and Habyarimana’s governments did. Of course, they wanted

to exploit tribal identity for political purposes.818

Unlike the previous regimes, which had relied on ethnic mobilization for political gains, the new

identity card policy, it was argued, would eliminate ethnicity as a source of political mobilization

and engrain a common national identity as the foundation of the state.819 The RPF moved further

to establish institutions to facilitate ethnic coexistence. The National Unity and Reconciliation

Commission (NURC) was established in March 1999. It was mandated to 1) “prepare and

coordinate national programs intended to promote national unity and reconciliation, 2) establish

and promote mechanisms for restoring and strengthening the unity and reconciliation of

Rwandans, 3) to educate, sensitize and mobilize the population in areas of national unity and

reconciliation, 4) to propose measures and actions that can contribute to the eradication of

divisionism among Rwandans and reinforce unity and reconciliation, 5) to denounce and fight

actions, publications, and utterances that promote any kind of division and discrimination,

intolerance and xenophobia, 6) monitor how public institutions, leaders and the population in

general comply with the national unity and reconciliation policy and principle.”820

In addition, several national laws outlawing genocide revisionism, trivialization, discrimination

and all forms of propagandas relating to ethnicity were enacted. The RPF moved cautiously to

remove any reference to Tutsi or Hutu from official government documents or communications.

The architects of this approach believed that it was feasible for all public servants to be recruited

818 Interview with Ms. Eugenia Kayitesi, Executive Director, Institute of Policy Analysis and Research-Rwanda (IPAR-Rwanda) 819 Interview with Journalist Ignatius Kateera 820 Information from National Unity and Reconciliation Commission website: http://www.nurc.gov.rw/index.php?id=83 (accessed September 10, 2017)

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based on their competencies rather than their ethnicities, as it had been the case in the pre-genocide

era. The Constitution explicitly stated that recruitment of public servants was to be based on

competence, integrity and merit. However, as Chapter VII of this thesis shows, it is nearly

impossible to comprehend the extent of ethnic representation in major government institutions

(such as the legislature, the executive, the public service, the judiciary and the military) due to the

RPF’s policy that criminalizes any reference to ethnicity. In the words of one interviewee: “On

surface, the policy looks great, but in reality, it is a top-down forced de-ethnicization of a

society.”821

Although reference to ethnic categories is treated as a felony, the Constitution of Rwanda provides

for non-ethnic categories of representation. This implies that the RPF leadership understands the

implicit value in group representation. Nonetheless, due to the country’s history, the RPF has made

it unlawful for such representation to be categorized as ethnic-based. For instance, the Constitution

says twenty-four out of eighty seats in the lower house of Parliament, the Chamber of Deputies,

are reserved for women. Similarly, two seats are reserved for the youth and there is one for disabled

people. In the Senate, the local administrative councils have 12 out of 26 seats. The President is

constitutionally mandated to appoint eight senators but, in doing so, he must consider national

unity, public interest and the ‘the representation of historically marginalized communities.’822

Several observers have interpreted this provision as intended to cater for the interests of the ethnic

Twa, who constitute less than 1 percent of the population, but the RPF government dismisses such

ethnic-based interpretations.823 The remaining senators are selected by a forum of political

organizations and universities. On the surface, Rwanda’s political structure seems to favor

equitable power-sharing between the ruling party and other smaller parties. For instance, Article

58 of the Constitution says the President and the Speaker of Parliament shall not come from the

same political party. It further says that no single party, even if it obtains majority of the seats in

the chamber of deputies, can constitute more than half of Cabinet ministers in the government.

RPF officials have maintained that they have built a system to facilitate political dialogue and

consensus in the post-genocide age. As one government official explains:

821 Interview with a top UNDP country expert (He preferred to remain anonymous) 822 Article (82) of Rwanda’s Constitution 823 Interview with a member of the ruling party’s Central Executive Committee (He preferred to remain anonymous)

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In our governance system, no political party can achieve a complete monopoly

of power. Even if we (RPF) achieved a military victory, we wanted to show the

world that we are not power-hungry autocrats. We are Rwandans who wanted to

build a country in which every political party––whether small or large––has

access to power. We wanted to create something unique in Africa.824

As previously highlighted, questions should be raised about the viability of Rwanda’s political

structure. A deep examination of the internal workings of the RPF regime shows that what has

been created is the same repressive system the RPF claims to have replaced. Even before President

Kagame rose to power, the RPF, particularly its military wing, engaged in covert machinations

and maneuverings meant to control the socio-political and economic aspects of Rwandan society.

When Bizimungu resigned and Kagame assumed power, the strategy changed from covert to overt.

The collapse of the first coalition government forced the RPF to change its strategy from political

accommodation to political containment. It fundamentally reshaped the laws governing the

country to its advantage. For instance, the Organic Law introduced in 2003 outlawed several kinds

of thought and speech. The government argued that the law was intended to prevent the actions of

those who would promote divisionism, ethnic ideology and genocide mentality. Article 8 of the

law states that: “Political organizations are prohibited from basing themselves on race, ethnic

group, tribe, clan, region, sex, religion or any other form of division which may give rise to

discrimination.”825 In addition, the law gives the minister powers to register or deregister political

parties and to confer legal status onto any political party that has been formed. The law requires

civil society groups and political parties to obtain written approval from the minister and

intelligence agencies to organize, assemble or mobilize support from the masses. In other words,

the law gives government immense power to determine the nature and character of its opponents

to the extent that many opposition parties in Rwanda are what I would call “authorized opposition’.

824 Interview with a Gen Frank Mugambage. ibid. 825 Article (8) of Rwandan Organic Law of 2003

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The RPF and Post-Genocide Transitional Justice

Although the RPF has been credited with stopping the genocide, it has also faced questions about

the administration of justice for victims and perpetrators of the massacres. Moreover, apart from

building a representative governance structure, it also had to contend with the ‘refugee question’

since a large part of the Rwandan population had fled the country. Another Organic Law

introduced on January 26, 2001 and modified in 2004 led to the creation of special courts called

Gacaca. The courts were launched as an ambitious transitional justice process of adjudicating

crimes committed during the genocide. The government created over 11,000 courts spread across

the country. Apart from the prosecution of individuals who participated in genocide between

October 1, 1990, and December 31, 1994, the courts also served as mediators in lesser offences

and encouraged reconciliation and fairness. The objectives of Gacaca courts were outlined as: (1)

“to reveal the truth of what happened; (2) to speed up legal proceedings; (3) to eradicate the culture

of impunity; (4) to build reconciliation and unity; and (5) to prove that the Rwandan society has

the capacity to settle its own problems through a system of justice based on Rwandan customary

law.”826 Majority of individuals prosecuted under Gacaca committed Category 3 crimes such as

theft and plunder (over 1.3 million acts were reported). This was followed by Category 2 acts,

which involved murder, grievous bodily harm and manslaughter (577,000 individual acts). The

last category involved serious crimes such as planning and organizing the genocide and crimes of

rape and torture (60,000 individual acts). According to the Rwandan government, Gacaca

proceedings were initiated against over one million suspects, of whom 90 percent were men.

While the necessity of the Gacaca courts cannot be overstated, it is the role of military intelligence

in the process and how the regime exploited the courts for the purpose of consolidating power that

is of particular concern. Indeed, the Gacaca process suffers from two fundamental flaws: first, the

law against divisionism, ethnic hatred and genocide mentality is so broad and vague that the

government has taken advantage of it to stifle political openness and debate. While there is general

agreement inside and outside Rwanda that acts that promote ethnic hatred and genocide ideology

ought to be prevented, the regime has exploited this ‘political will’ to create laws with expansive

826 Report on Trials in Pilot Gacaca Courts,” National Service of Gacaca Jurisdictions, http://www.inkiko- Gacaca.gov.rw/En/EnIntroduction.htm (accessed April 20, 2012).

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formulations. Rwanda’s anti-genocide laws are inherently and perhaps deliberately ambiguous,

allowing the regime to engage in several high-handed acts against its opponents and civil society

groups. The RPF government often justifies its actions as necessary to prevent a second genocide.

The problem here is that it is only the RPF that polices divisionism. It portrays itself as the ‘good

servant’ protecting ordinary Rwandans from the possibility of a looming deadly disaster like the

genocide of 1994. Radio and television stations, as well as newspapers, are naturally compelled to

regularly remind ordinary Rwandans to trust the RPF government and its ‘good’ intentions. In this

sense, the RPF government presents a well-crafted narrative of ‘good’ versus ‘evil’ in which it is

‘good’ and critics of its cavalier military approach are ‘evil’.

When outside pro-democracy groups criticize the government, Rwandans are told that such groups

are “enemies of Rwanda” who should not interfere in its internal affairs, for they never intervened

when thousands of Rwandans were massacred in 1994.827

The army’s actions are therefore presented as being beyond criticism because it stopped the

genocide and is working to stop another one. Indeed, several interviewees confirm this narrative,

which is actively promoted by regime agents who tell Rwandans that none of the outside groups

critical of the RPF’s actions can protect Rwandans in the event of a second genocide.828 For those

outside Rwanda, such a narrative sounds vague and insincere, but for ordinary Rwandans it carries

some credibility. The regime uses its monopoly of the mass media to shape its own narrative while

blocking media access for dissenting voices. As Human Rights Watch has noted:

The Rwandan government has created a veneer of stability by suppressing

dissent and limiting the exercise of civil and political rights. It often cites the

need to avoid another genocide as the purported justification for such repressive

measures.829

The second flaw that underpins the Gacaca process emanates from the way it has been used to

reshape the international image of Rwanda. Initially, the idea of establishing Gacaca was

considered timely and necessary for addressing the challenges of transitional justice, and many

observers were optimistic that the process would deliver reconciliation in a deeply divided society.

827 See, for example, an article by Rabbi Shmuley Boteach titled “President Kagame of Rwanda and His Enemies” Available online: https://www.huffingtonpost.com/rabbi-shmuley-boteach/president-kagame-of-rwand_b_5225558.html 828 Interview with a local journalist 829 Human Rights Watch, 2005 report.

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But such hopes quickly faded when the courts became central to the RPF’s strategy of controlling

and even reshaping the narrative about a new post-genocide society. Thus, the entire Gacaca

project became a propaganda tool for the RPF to project a vision of Rwandan society that is united,

offering participatory democracy and fair to both perpetrators and victims of the genocide. As one

interviewee stated:

……Most of the people who appear in these courts are carefully selected and

coached by the RPF intelligence and told what to say. There is no justice in these

courts. The government wants the world to think that it has managed to facilitate

healing. But there cannot be healing when a minority group is dominating the

majority. The RPF wants the world to look at Gacaca and think that there are no

more rivalries between Tutsi and Hutu, but that’s not true. These tensions are not

public because of the consequences but they are underneath. You can feel them

everywhere.830

Irrespective of the concerns about the RPF’s control of Gacaca courts, the international donor

community offered legitimacy to the project, believing that it offered local solutions to a complex

problem. Several scholars have highlighted how the system of Gacaca courts has become

counterproductive. For example, Longman Timothy has argued that, even though Gacaca courts

have tried thousands of individuals, they have also become vessels for the regime to dominate its

main constituency.831 Bert Inglaere argues that Gacaca has shifted from voluntary confession to

accusations and thus promotes retribution justice instead of restoration.832 Rettig Max points out

that while the system of gacaca system has brought many people to trial, it also “exposes and

perhaps deepen conflict, resentment, and ethnic disunity.”833 My own research adds to these

concerns by exploring how the regime has exploited the Gacaca courts to expand its reach to rural

communities and how this has been made possible by the absence of a “residue” social structure

to constrain the power of post-genocide leaders. Many respondents revealed how thousands of

830 Interview with a former media owner in Rwanda who now lives in exile in Uganda (He preferred to remain anonymous) 831 Longman, Timothy (2009) “An Assessment of Rwanda’s Gacaca Courts” Peace Review: A Journal of Social Justice, 21:304–312 832 Ingelaere Bert (2016) Inside Rwanda's Gacaca courts: seeking justice after genocide. University of Wisconsin Press. Madison, Wisconsin 833 Rettig, Max (2008) "Gacaca: Truth, Justice, and Reconciliation in Post-conflict Rwanda?"African Studies Review 51, no. 3 p.1

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intelligence cadres were employed to supervise the process and identify court witnesses.834 More

so, critics have maintained that Gacaca courts were focused almost exclusively on crimes

committed by the Hutu extremists who participated in the genocide while overlooking those

committed by the Tutsi extremists.835 Therefore, instead of promoting reconciliation, the process

may have instead fueled more resentment against the ruling Tutsi minority.836 Perhaps, the decision

to focus on Hutu crimes while diminishing those committed by the Tutsi should not surprise

anyone. Time and again when the uncomfortable facts of the 1994 genocide are asserted, the RPF

is always keen to insulate the Tutsi from blame. Still, President Kagame continues to face questions

about the Gacaca process and its obvious flaws and deficiencies. Some lawyers argue that the

Gacaca process was never rooted in the principle of natural justice because the alleged culprits are

presumed guilty and then tasked to prove their innocence. When this concern was put to President

Kagame, his response was outright contemptuous:

. . . Genocide and divisionism are not Kinyarwanda words, and I don’t know

what it means in their [i.e. European Union] context. I suggest that they explain

it themselves. What we should be asked is whether what we are doing for this

country is good or not, and we will be ready to explain this.837

The RPF regime sees value in embedding genocide memories or the fear of a possible state collapse

in the moral psychology of Rwanda as a nation. Whether through Gacaca or the mass media, the

strategy of preserving genocide memories in the hearts and minds of Rwandans is, according to

one RPF officer, significant for national unity and social order.838 There are RPF officials in the

Ministry of Defence, including Frank Rusagara, who are charged with promoting the ideology of

‘Rwanda-ness’, which essentially means promoting actions that sentimentally and subliminally

connect Rwandans with their history of genocide. According to Rusagara, the idea is to provide a

platform for the reconstruction of a post-genocide Rwanda839 and to facilitate enhancement of the

symbiotic relationship between Rwandan people, their military and their political leadership. RPF

834 Interview with a local journalist who has extensively written about Gacaca courts (He preferred to remain anonymous) 835 Matthew Evans. (2017) “A future without forgiveness: beyond reconciliation in transitional justice.” International Politics 4. 836 Matthew Evans. (2016) “Structural Violence, Socioeconomic Rights, and Transformative Justice.” Journal of Human Rights 15:1, pages 1-20 837 Paul Kagame speech cited in; Hintjens, Helen: Post-genocide identity politics in Rwanda. In: Ethnicities 8 (2008), 1, pp. 5-41. 838 Interview with Jill Rutaremara. Ibid. 839 The New Times Rwanda, 21–22 February 2005.

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architects of this strategy believe that ethnic amnesia can address the ethnic-based cleavages by

redefining community relations.

Absence of the “Residue” Social Structure in Post-Genocide Rwanda

In contrast to Uganda where the victorious NRA guerrilla group inherited a well-entrenched

“residue” social structure, the RPF in Rwanda took over a state that had no “residue” i.e., –lacking

entrenched social groups with well-defined interests. Because of the violent genocide, organized

social groups in Rwanda either fled to exile or were decimated by violence. For instance, the

Rwanda monarchy had been abolished after the Hutu uprising of 1959, which were backed by the

Belgian colonial government. Rwanda became a republic in 1961 when the monarchy was ousted

by Rwanda’s first President Dominique Mbonyumutwa. This forced thousands of King

Ndahindurwa V Kigeli’s royalists, including the entire royal family, to flee into exile. The king

himself left Rwanda and lived as a refugee in neighboring countries (Tanzania, Kenya and Uganda)

before relocating to the U.S. where he was granted an asylum.

After the 1994 genocide, some monarchists started demanding the restoration of the kingdom.

They argued that, similar to Uganda, the kingdom of Rwanda could be reinstated with cultural

authority, but with no political powers. The response from RPF was rapid and decisive: over 200

supporters of the King were arrested and accused of planning to form an armed resistance to bring

the king back to power. The government alleged that the group had formed an armed resistance

called “the army of the King” even though King Kigeli (who by then was living in exile in

Washington D.C.) disavowed any link to an armed resistance.840 When king Kigeli requested to

return back to Rwanda, President Kagame warned him that he will never become a king again and

that RPF would not tolerate his proposal of organizing a national referendum to determine if

Rwandans wanted their monarchy restored. Kagame was quoted in the local press as saying that if

the king “comes he will definitely die…. We are ready.”841 This was a complete reversal of his

previous position. A few years after coming to power, Kagame himself met with the exiled king

in Washington D.C. and assured Kigeli that he was welcome to return to Rwanda. Later, King

Kigeli claimed that he never got to hear from Kagame again after their meeting despite sending

840 See more in “Surviving the Genocide: An Interview with Jean-Christophe Nizeyimana” available online: https://zcomm.org/znetarticle/surviving-the-genocide-an-interview-with-jean-christophe-nizeyimana-by-jean-christophe-nizeyimana/ (Accessed 4 March 2019) 841 Rwanda Newsline 05, December 24, 1999, p. 32

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several messages to the RPF leader. Questioned by journalists on whether he would allow King

Kigeli to return to Rwanda as he had previously promised, Kagame became agitated in his

response. He snapped:

You are trying to make him (King Kigeli) more important than he is. For him

to wait for my answer whether he should return is none of my business. I was

not among those that dethroned him and therefore have no authority and

obligation to reinstate him.842

Though essentially symbolic, monarchies in Africa have proved to be a powerful allure to some

elements of the society who feel neglected by the state. This explains why many regimes on the

continent view monarchies as a political threat. In Uganda, for example, monarchies command

tremendous influence on the state and play a significant role in the national political structure.

As already explained, following the 1986 civil war, the postwar regime in Uganda worked

tirelessly to accommodate the interests of these entrenched monarchies. The regime leader

understood that trying to minimize or even obliterate these monarchies in Uganda could generate

tensions and create a legitimacy crisis for the new regime given the tremendous support

commanded by monarchies. As a result, in Uganda, the interests of monarchies continue to

shrive in a country whose constitution defines it as a republic. There is therefore no doubt that,

having lived and worked in Uganda, President Kagame understood the power and influence of

monarchies. He has worked to ensure that post-genocide Rwanda does not develop a powerful

monarchical system. As one exiled Rwandan journalist stated:

There are some Rwandans who still want to see their kingdom restored. But you

cannot say that openly. My newspaper received many letters and opinions pieces

from Rwandans asking for their king, but we could not publish them. The

military and the ruling party do not want any alternative centers of power. The

RPF leadership do not want to see themselves negotiating with the king as it is

the case in Uganda where the president can even drive his car to meet with the

king at the king’s palace. In fact, if you publicly embrace the king or kingship in

Rwanda, you will be killed or thrown in jail.843

842 The Washingtonian, 27 March 2013: Available online: https://www.washingtonian.com/2013/03/27/a-king-with-no-country/ (Accessed 3 March 2019). 843 Interview with a Rwandan media proprietor who now lives in exile. Ibid.

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In contrast to Uganda where landed elites wielded considerable influence in the postwar period,

most of the land in Rwanda had been vacated by landowners following the 1959 refugee wave

and later the 1994 genocide.844 Two years after taking over power, the RPF government issued

a ministerial order, claiming that it would guarantee ownership of “land to those-mostly Tutsi-

who occupied it before leaving in the first wave of refugees in 1959 and after and those-mostly

Hutu-who occupied it before fleeing in the second wave of refugees in 1994.”845 The

government argued that the ministerial order was in line with the Arusha Accord, which called

for equitable land distribution in the post-genocide process. Later, the government issued a

second order, stating that returnees cannot claim property they left for more than ten years,

specifically property that was already occupied by others. This move allowed the RPF

government to create a new class of landowners who were more loyal to the regime. They

credited the regime for helping them acquire land through the new land redistribution policy.

Bruce Jones has chronicled cases in which Tutsi returnees simply occupied houses and land

from Hutu, though a majority did not do it violently.846 For those who could not find land

because of the ten-year-rule, the government, under the protocol on repatriation was mandated

to compensate them by “putting land at their disposal and helping them to resettle”847 As one

veteran RPF official remembers:

Akagera Park was one-seventh of the country, too much compared to other

nations. So, we reduced it. In other areas, we assumed that if land was free,

people could recover it. If the land was taken by government or the church, it

would need to be returned or compensation provided.848

According to a 1997 report by Human Rights Watch, many Rwandans returning from exiles in the

“communes of Umutara and Kibungo stated that when they came back from exile in 1996 or after,

844 Alusala, Nelson (2005) Disarmament and Reconciliation; Rwanda’s Concerns. ISS Occasional Paper 108, June 2005. Washington DC: Institute for Security Studies. 845 See, for example, a report by Human Rights Watch available online: https://www.hrw.org/reports/2001/rwanda/rwnvilg-10.htm (Accessed 3 March 2019). 846 Bruce John (2002) “Drawing a line under the Crisis: Reconcilling Returnee Land Access and Security in Post-Conflict Rwanda” HPG Humanitarian Group Working Paper, p.207. Available online: https://www.odi.org/sites/odi.org.uk/files/odi-assets/publications-opinion-files/4174.pdf (Accessed 4 March 2019 847 Bruce John (2002), ibid. p.19. 848 An RPF officer quoted in Jon Unruh, Rhodri Williams (2013) Land and Post-Conflict Peacebuilding (eds) Routledge.p.126.

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they found their property occupied by repatriated Tutsi of the first wave of refugees and could not

recover it.”849 An official from a local NGO which advocates for land rights expressed muted

criticism of the government land policy which created a new class of landowners while rendering

previous landowners landless. He stated:

The problem is that we didn’t have powerful landlords who could fight for their

interests. No one was asking who is the owner of this land that government was

distributing. It was like starting from Zero. I would say the process was not very

well handled because we ended up with many people losing their land.850

It is apparent (from the above discussion) that, in contrast to Uganda where the postwar regime

was constrained by powerful landowners Rwanda’s situation was different. In Uganda, the NRA

regime did not introduce new land redistribution policies because it did not want to antagonize the

entrenched interests of powerful landholders. Yet, the RPF in Rwanda was able to engage in land

redistribution because it didn’t have to deal with interests of powerful landed elites. The 1994

genocide in Rwanda had created a vacuum as many landowners fled the country.851 Although a

handful of landholders regained the ownership of their land when they returned, a majority were

rendered landless. The post-genocide regime was therefore able to create a new class of

landowners with ties to the regime.

In addition, whereas the postwar regime in Uganda had to contend with powerful protestant and

catholic churches who enjoyed a considerable influence in the Ugandan society (see chapter 4),

the situation in post-genocide Rwanda was different. Before the 1994 genocide, Catholicism,

Adventism, and Pentecostalism–– has gained political clout under the regime of Habyarimana.

However, genocide led to the erosion of the church’s credibility and trust because of the church’s

role in fueling ethnic divisions. For example, Linda Melvern paints a distressing picture of the role

of the Catholic church in creating conditions for genocide.852 She shows how, instead of promoting

unity and communal friendship, the church actively participated in worsening ethnic divisions

849 See, for example, a report by Human Rights Watch available online: https://www.hrw.org/reports/2001/rwanda/rwnvilg-10.htm (Accessed 3 March 2019). 850 Interview with an official from a local NGO in Kigali (September 7, 2017) 851 Andre, C., and J. P. Platteau (1998) ‘Land Relations under Unbearable Stress: Rwanda Caught in the Malthusian Trap’, Journal of Economic Behavior and Organization 34 (1): 1-47. 852 Melvern, Linda (2009) A People Betrayed: The Role of the West in Rwanda's Genocide. New York: Zed Books Ltd

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through education in its seminaries and church schools. Ndahiro describes the Rwandan Church

as the “only institution involved in all stages of the genocide.”853 He explains that “the stereotypes

used by the Hutu-dominated Rwandan government to dehumanize Tutsis, were also spread by

some influential clergymen, bishops and priests, before and after the genocide.”854 Stories were

told of how catholic priests conspired with Hutus and trapped worshipers in their churches before

setting them ablaze, killing thousands of Tutsis. As one director of a local NGO explains:

There was a story of Father Serembo, who used bulldozers to pull down the walls

of his parish killing the 2,000 people inside. There was also a story of sisters

Gertrude and Maria who worked with the Interahamwe to kill people who had

taken sanctuary in their church. We have many eyewitnesses who saw Sr. Maria

using banana leaves to set fire on her church with 500 people inside, who were

all killed.855

Following the end of genocide, the church in Rwanda had lost all the credibility and trust among

Rwandans. Clergymen, bishops and priests who previously had influence in Rwandan society

either fled into exile or were arrested and tried for their role in genocide. Therefore, the church in

Rwanda could not provide checks and balance on the new RPF regime because it lacked public

trust. This is a complete opposite of the role played by the church in postwar Uganda. The church

in Uganda was hailed for its condemnation of Idi Amin’s brutal dictatorship, which later led to the

assassination of Kampala Bishop Jonani Luwum, a strong critic of Amin’s brutality (see chapter

4). Carney has, for example, showed how shared experience of political oppression led to the

forging of solidarity between Catholic and Anglican churches in Uganda, especially during the

Amin’s dictatorship of 1971–1979 and the brutal civil war of 1979–1986. The church was active

through political engagement, private lobbying, writing critiques and standing with the oppressed

Ugandans against the violent state.856 In my interview with a Ugandan catholic priest who

specializes in church history, he explains that:

853 Ndahiro, Tom. "Genocide and the Role of the Church in Rwanda” from “News from Africa.” (2005), https://www.pambazuka.org/human-security/genocide-and-role-church-rwanda (accessed March 30, 2019). 854 Ndahiro, Tom. Ibid. 855 Interview with Eugenia Kayitesi. Ibidi. 856 Carney, J. J., “The Politics of Ecumenism in Uganda, 1962–1986”, Church History, Vol. 86, No. 3, 2017, pp. 765-795

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The church in Uganda has always been there for the people. We opposed Idi

Amin, we opposed Obote’s regime and we were determined to make sure that

the new NRA regime doesn’t oppress the people when they came to power in

1986. We sent our message through preaching, lobbying and even direct

meetings with President Museveni. Our aim was to make sure that Museveni and

his NRA regime remain committed to the ideals of human rights and good

governance. The church still finds itself in disagreement with Museveni all the

time. But, whenever he goes against our core principles, we are not afraid to

raise our objections. We do not have individual interests. Our interest is to fight

for the well-being of all Ugandans.857

The church in Uganda frequently raise criticisms against certain actions of the regime. In some

cases, the regime leader has tried to engage the church to obtain its support for his policies or

his political appointees. For example, in 2016 prominent members of the catholic church

confessed to having prior knowledge of cabinet appointments because they were consulted by

the president.858 In 2018 the Archbishop of Kampala Cyprian Lwanga criticized the government

for its excesses and human rights abuse. Following the Archbishop’s criticisms, the president

quickly organized a meeting with the Archbishop. The two leaders jointly held a press

conference to demonstrate to the public that they had resolved their disagreements. Later, the

President invited all top catholic leaders, including the Vatican’s envoy to Uganda for a meeting

to defuse the seemingly escalating state-church relationship.859

From the above discussion, it is clear that, in contrast to Uganda where the church retained

credibility in the postwar period and become instrumental in the reconstruction of the postwar

state, the church in Rwanda lost all its credibility and could not provide checks and balance on the

victorious RPF/A guerrilla group. In fact, many RPF leaders saw the church’s ‘genocide guilt’ as

an opportunity to discredit the church. As a result, facing criticism from politicians, Rwandan

857 Interview with Father Geoffrey Tumusiime, a Ugandan catholic church historian (May 24, 2017) 858 Sejjoba Eddie (2016) “Fr. Raymond Got a Revelation that I Would be Appointed Minister-Nakiwala” New Vision October 16, Available online: https://www.newvision.co.ug/new_vision/news/1487778/fr-raymond-revelation-appointed-minister-nakiwala (Accessed February 23, 2019) 859 Musisi Fredrick (2018) “Top Church Leaders to Meet Over Lwanga––Museveni Rift” The Daily Monitor, April 16. Available online: https://www.monitor.co.ug/News/National/Top-Catholic-leaders-meet-Lwanga---Museveni-rift/688334-4395430-n295fpz/index.html (Accessed February 23, 2019)

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bishops issued a joint apology letter that was read throughout Rwandan churches. Still RPF leaders

argued that the apology was not enough until 2017 when the Pope, after a closed-door meeting

with the RPF leader (Paul Kagame), asked for forgiveness for the "sins and failings" of the Catholic

Church during the 1994 Rwandan genocide.860

Conclusion

This chapter has examined the transformation of the Rwandan Patriotic Front/Army from a bush-

war group into a ruling regime, as well as its struggle to transform a guerrilla-like political

movement into a governing party in Rwanda. The chapter shows how this transformation has been

skillfully managed by RPF military elites to the extent that by the early 2000s disagreements

between the army and politicians resulted in the resignation of then-President Bizimungu, which

facilitated the takeover of power by Kagame. With the RPF fully in charge of the state, the socio-

economic and political transformation of Rwanda took an authoritarian path. This has prompted

scholars such as Filip Reyntjens to conclude that “Rwanda is an army with a state rather than a

state with an army, and it is effectively run by a military regime.”861What scholars like Reyntjens

do not pay much attention to however is how the absence of a “residue” social structure allowed

the RPF to make decisions and actions without having to contend with structural constrains. This

‘vacuum’ allowed the RPF to introduce policies designed to re-engineer ethnic identities in the

post-genocide society––policies that were implemented without any form of constrains or

accountability.

Although the RPF initially appeared willing to share power, privately it had a strategy to

concentrate power within a small cleavage of top military elites, majority of whom were former

Tutsi refugees led by current President Kagame. Furthermore, the chapter has shown how the

complex legacies of the 1994 Rwandan genocide were exploited by the RPF to justify its

authoritarian character. The RPF has introduced several repressive laws and the army often

engages in extra-constitutional actions that it claims are intended to prevent serious crimes.

Through this kind of Orwellian control, some say, killers and victims of yesterday’s massacres

860 CNN (March 20, 2017) “Pope Francis asks 'forgiveness' for church role in Rwandan genocide” Available online: https://www.cnn.com/2017/03/20/africa/pope-apology-rwanda-genocide/index.html l (accessed March 30, 2019). 861 Reyntjens, Filip (2011) ibid. p.13.

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could live together in peace and harmony, with the military as the ultimate provider of security for

all. A more critical view (explored further in the next chapter) suggests a deliberate strategy by

RPF elites to exploit these social complexities to justify its domination of political and economic

power.

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Chapter Eight

Understanding Military Domination of Post-Genocide Rwandan Political System

Introduction

Understanding the central role of the military in post-genocide Rwanda demands asking two

important questions: What is the role of the military in the reconstruction of the prevailing post-

genocide political system? How did the military become the dominant factor in the post-genocide

political system? As simple as these questions may sound, their answers are difficult because it is

impossible to draw a distinction between the ruling party, the state and the military as these

institutions are fused together. A further question then arises: How did this political situation in

Rwanda develop to this level? After the initial capture of power in Rwanda in 1994, RPF elites

sought to create a line between the military and civilian authority in order to avoid any semblance

of state militarization. For instance, unlike in Uganda, where the leader of the victorious NRA

guerrilla group directly became the de facto ruler of the country, the RPF in Rwanda sought

initially to create a civilian government, with a promise to subordinate the triumphant military

elites to civilian authority. RPF leaders argued that placing the military under the control of civilian

politicians demonstrated their willingness to democratize the post-genocide government. Yet

while the post-genocide coalition government was numerically dominated by civilian politicians,

the question of whether—and how—civilian politicians exercised supremacy in military policy

and political decision-making remains unclear. What is clear however is that the army exerted

substantial control over political authorities through a combination of propaganda and repressive

tactics intended to force politicians to comply with its goals.

Although RPF military elites agreed to the formation of a civilian-led government, this chapter

argues that the military did not allow executive power to wander far from its control. The first part

of this chapter examines how the post-genocide coalition government tried but failed to control

the military, which possessed the ultimate power of coercion. The army did not subject itself to

control by the government in power. It instead remained at the helm of governance thereby creating

constant friction between civilian politicians and military elites. In 2000, a disagreement between

General Paul Kagame, then army Commander and Minister of Defence, and the civilian President,

Pasteur Bizimungu, escalated and paralyzed the government. The chapter further shows how, in

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an attempt to establish a tradition of civil control, civilian politicians only provoked deeper

defiance from the military. Ultimately, the military engineered the overthrow of Bizimungu

through a ‘forced resignation’ which was carefully crafted to give the entire process a veneer of

credibility.862 The army replaced Bizimungu with one of its own (General Kagame), as president

and he remains in power to this day. After assuming the presidency, Kagame immediately started

to concentrate political and socioeconomic power under the military, which he made politically

influential at the expense of the ruling party. The second part of this chapter explores three

projects–– Ingando, Umuganda and Itorero –– that were carefully crafted and spearheaded by

military elites, with the sole aim of strengthening the army’s grip on sociopolitical processes in

Rwanda.

Understanding the military's domination of Rwanda's post-genocide political system requires

examining two models of control that RPF employed during two phases of Rwanda’s political

development. The first is indirect military control, implemented between 1994 and 2000. During

this period the army allowed civilian politicians to occupy top positions in the government in order

to gain a veneer of legitimacy while, clandestinely, military elites made the most important

decisions. The second is direct military control, implemented from 2000 until now. This period

started with the military elites forcing President Bizimungu to relinquish the presidency, which

allowed the Kagame-led army to directly take over power. After assuming power, Kagame became

a military strongman with unconstrained authority. He has established a regime that is highly

hierarchical and that demands a high level of public obedience. As one interviewee puts it:

Joining politics in Rwanda is like joining a military band in which everyone has

to learn the approved songs and must be available to sing when required. The

punishment for failing to follow the rules are harsh.863

Below, I start by explaining the nature of the post-genocide coalition government and thereafter I

examine the two models of military control in detail.

862Interview with a Rwanda media proprietor in Rwandan, now living in exile. Ibid. 863 Interview with an exiled former Rwandan politician

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The Post-Genocide Power-Sharing Government

Any attempt to understand the role of the military in post-genocide Rwanda is likely to be

controversial. Many accounts of every aspect of the Rwandan regime and its military are varyingly

polarized and polarizing. The writings of many scholars, policy analysts and even journalists tend

to be either exceedingly critical of the regime and its military or uncertainly supportive of the

regime’s authoritarian actions. Compounding the problem is the fact that the Rwandan military is

not only undemocratic but also operates in unnecessary secrecy, which generates speculation over

its actions and intentions. However, this situation should not come as a surprise. Judging by the

nature of its formation and organization ethos, Rwanda’s RPF was an insurgent group with

idiosyncratic characters, which explains the distinctiveness of the post-genocide government. For

instance, in many African states where rebels successfully captured power, the leader of those

rebels automatically became the leader of the new government. Countries like Uganda, Ethiopia

and Eritrea conform to this assumption. Rwanda’s RPF seems to be an exception to the norm.

Although RPF was a victorious rebel group, it agreed to the creation of a coalition government in

which its leader did not automatically become the president of the new republic. Instead, what RPF

established was kind of a consociational democracy led by a civilian President, but which included

representatives of minority groups and the ousted regime.

The first attempt at sharing power in Rwanda can be traced back to the 1993 Arusha Peace

Agreement, signed between the then-ruling MRND party and the RPF, which constituted the

armed opposition.864 Under that terms of the agreement, the ruling party was expected to have as

much power as the opposition. For instance, the President was to come from the ruling MRND,

which also was to fill five ministerial positions. The Vice President would come from the RPF,

which also was given the same number of ministerial positions.865 The remaining eleven

ministerial positions were to be filled by the other four opposition parties, with the MDR, the

largest opposition party, guaranteed four positions, including that of Prime Minister. According to

the terms of the Arusha accord, the military was to be composed of 60 percent government forces

and 40 percent RPF forces. Some observers thought the RPF had gained a lot from the deal because

it was mainly a party of ethnic Tutsi, who constituted 15 percent of the population but had received

864 Khadigala, Gilbert (2002) “Implementing the Arusha Peace Agreement on Rwanda.” In: Ending Civil Wars: The Implementation, edited by Steven John Stedeman, Rothchild, and Elizabeth M. Cousens, 463-498. U.S.A: Lynne Rienner Publisher, Inc. 865 Chrétien, Jean-Pierre (2003) The Great Lakes of Africa. Two Thousand Years of History. New York: Zone Books

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a disproportionate share of civilian and military positions.866 However, to the surprise of many,

RPF hardliners complained that the principle of proportionality had been violated by the allocation

of 60 percent of military positions to the ruling party. The Arusha Peace Agreement finally was

broken with the assassination of then-President Juvenal Habyarimana on April 6, 1994, which

sparked a genocide that was ended by the victorious RPF rebels.

Having won the war and operating from a position of strength, the RPF elites moved unchallenged

to set terms for the post-genocide political dispensation. However, for purposes of gaining

legitimacy, they chose to do so in consultation with other political actors. On July 14, 1994, RPF

issued a constitutional declaration and launched negotiations with other parties. On November 24,

1994, it reached an agreement with seven political parties that led to the signing of a protocol to

establish a broad-based coalition government.867 Under the terms of the new agreement, the office

of the President was strengthened as well as the Vice Presidency, with each carrying a ministerial

portfolio. The Presidency was taken by Pasteur Bizimungu, a Hutu politician considered an

outsider to the RPF. The Vice Presidency was taken by Paul Kagame, the RPF’s de facto political

and military leader. Unlike the Arusha accord, which had envisaged a short period of transition of

only two years, the agreement between the RPF and other parties contained a longer period of

transition, lasting for seven years. The transitional period was later extended to 2003, when

elections were held. In justifying the extension of the transition period, RPF leaders argued that it

was necessary to maintain order and build social harmony, rather than rushing the country into

divisive elections.868 Within the donor community, there was a view that Rwanda lacked an

environment for free and fair elections given the large number of refugees and citizens traumatized

by genocide. There were also fears that elections would have been contested along ethnic lines,

which could have raised the possibility of the RPF being defeated as it was composed mostly of

the minority Tutsi.869

In addition to Article 7 of the RPF Declaration that granted the President power to make decisions

in a “sovereign way” in the event the coalition government failed to reach an agreement, the

866 Reyntjens, 2010. Ibid. 867 Clark, Phil, and Zachary D. Kaufman, eds. (2008) After Genocide: Transitional Justice, Post- Conflict Reconstruction, and Reconciliation in Rwanda and Beyond. New York, NY: Columbia University Press and London, UK: C. Hurst & Co. pg. 314. 868 Omar McDoom (2009) “The Micro-Politics of Mass Violence: Security, Authority, and Opportunity in Rwanda’s Genocide.” Doctoral thesis, London School of Economics. 869 Interview with Col. Jill Rutaremara, ibid.

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powers of the President were further enhanced under the terms of the transition. For instance, the

Arusha accord had a provision that required decisions to be taken first by consensus or, if that

failed, then a two-third majority rule would apply. However, Cabinet had 21 positions. A veto was

thus effectively exercised by any party which had 8 positions, meaning that the matter would be

sent to the President to decide on it in a ‘sovereign way’.870 Under the Arusha accord, the RPF had

been allocated five seats in the national assembly, but it then took over three of the five seats

reserved for the ousted ruling party, the MRND. This implies that the RPF effectively could

overrule unfavorable outcomes by deferring the matter to the President. These actions are

consistent with RPF’s behavior right from the bush. It seems that RPF leaders believed that there

were serious limits regarding how much support they could win from the public, given that it was

a guerrilla group largely dominated by minority ethnic Tutsi. Thus, all the actions taken by RPF

leaders–both in bush and in power–were informed by their need to centralize, dominate and control

every aspect of governance in post-genocide Rwanda.

Ideally, Rwanda’s post-genocide power-sharing government was meant to prevent the revival of

the conflict by creating space for the defeated parties to engage with the victorious side and forge

a way for building sustainable peace.871 Given the failure of power-sharing elsewhere in Africa

(Democratic Republic of the Congo, Côte d’Ivoire, Liberia, Sierra Leone, etc.), Rwanda’s coalition

government was hailed as a model to be replicated in other divided societies with a history of

violence and oppressive rule.872 The new government in Rwanda, it was argued, would be based

on the principle of national reconciliation. Within donor circles, the consensus was that Rwanda

needed to embrace all political views and form an inclusive government to fight the divisive

genocide ideology and create national unity.873 As a result, the government adopted several

policies aimed at eliminating ethnic "divisionism" that had led to the 1994 genocide (see previous

chapter). In fact, Rwanda’s power-sharing arrangement as a conflict resolution mechanism did

attract wide-spread international support from diplomats and scholars. Supporters argued that it

was the only way to reassure weaker parties of their relevance and give them some incentives to

commit to peace after a violent genocide.874 In addition, the power-sharing arrangement was hailed

870 Reyntjens, 2010. Ibid. 871 Peter Uvin (1998) Aiding Violence: The Development Enterprise in Rwanda, West Hartford, CT: Kumarian Press 872 Gérard Prunier (1998). ibid. pg.248. 873 Interview with Eugenia Kayitesi. Ibid. 874 See a report on Survivors and Post-Genocide Justice in Rwanda: Their Experiences, Perspectives and Hopes. Published by, African Rights and Redress, November 2008. Available online https://rgfl.files.wordpress.com/2011/11/survivors-and-post-genocide-justice.pdf: (Accessed May 17, 2018)

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for incorporating governance by coalition at multiple levels of government as opposition groups

gained a voice at all branches of government, including at local levels.

As impressive as the post-genocide coalition seemed, the question to ask at this point is whether a

civilian government was truly in charge. In what follows I examine this issue and argue that,

despite efforts by civilians in the coalition government to exercise their full constitutional authority

over armed forces, military elites sabotaged such efforts, leaving the coalition government

politically gridlocked. Consequently, Rwanda’s first post-genocide coalition government

collapsed because it was not institutionally built to support durable patterns of governance.

Indirect Military Control (1994-2000)

Understanding the dynamics that underpin ties between military elites and civilian politicians at

the helm of the post-genocide coalition government requires posing two important questions: a)

Was the coalition government able and willing to control or manage military elites in order to

ensure their loyalty to the civilian government? b) Were RPF armed elites willing to allow civilian

politicians to exercise authority without undue interference?

For starters, in the aftermath of the genocide, politicians in the new coalition government expressed

a rare inclination to exert their authority over the armed forces. They tried to make decisions on

issues related to the army’s command and control structures, and operational procedures. However,

their efforts confronted two interrelated challenges. The new coalition government found it

difficult to break this historical precedent in its attempt to manage the military establishment. In

the new post-genocide era, the most defining issue was the severity of security threats that Rwanda

still faced -- from covert aggression by members of the ousted regime to the subversive activities

of new rebel groups. Military elites within the RPF argued that, given the range of security threats

facing the country, making critical decisions such as when and how to use brute force could not

be the preserve of civilian politicians.875 Second, many of the new politicians in the coalition

government had no experience in civil-military management. Yet, the newly formed national army

in Rwanda was led by educated elites who had served in senior positions in the Ugandan military

and government. The latter possessed advanced bureaucratic skills. They also saw their victory

over the Habyarimana regime as conferring upon them not only prestige but also the legitimacy to

determine Rwanda’s political destiny. Moreover, right from the start, the RPF defined its mission

875 Interview with Col. Jill Rutaremara. Ibid.

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as both political liberation and political consolidation876, making it clear that it would not accept

being politically sidelined in a country its members had fought so hard to liberate. Some elites in

the army construed decisions taken by civilian politicians as a threat to their mission, which led

them to place obstacles that constrained the coalition government from exercising its authority877.

Hence, whenever disagreements arose between the military and politicians in the coalition

government, the army had an upper hand because politicians were frightened by the possibility of

the army staging a coup d'état or defying them. This allowed the military to concentrate power and

to define the post-genocide political order to the extent that the army got deeply entangled in

politics and grew more powerful, sometimes preying on the society it was meant to protect. As an

institution, the military became more powerful and covertly grabbed power from politicians as

further explained below.

The first attempt by RPF military elites to clandestinely control post-genocide Rwanda can be seen

in the way the army manipulated the post-genocide constitutional order to its advantage. RPF

armed elites championed a new formula of allocating seats in the new national assembly that was

slightly different from what had been envisaged in the Arusha Accord. Under this formula, 13

seats were reserved for each of the major parties (RPF, MDR, PSD and PL). The PDC party was

given six seats, while two of the smallest parties (PSR and UDPR) were each allocated two seats.

To the surprise of many observers, the military demanded special representation in parliament (as

was the case for Uganda) and was subsequently allocated six seats in the house. Critics have argued

that having military members in a civilian parliament was meant to intimidate legislators to enact

pro-regime policies.878 Although army lawmakers were effective debaters during parliamentary

proceedings, they represented the views and the interests of the military and ensured that policies

favored by their commander (General Kagame) were passed in the house. As it is a norm in

military hierarchies, army members had to follow orders from their superior and Kagame was the

most important man in the army who had commanded a four-year guerrilla struggle. As one

interviewee puts it.

You cannot be a soldier in parliament and take an independent decision because

soldiers work on orders from their commander. They follow a hierarchical power

876 Interview with Maj. General Frank Mugambage.ibid 877 Interview with Muganwa Gonzaga, Executive Secretary Rwanda Media Association (September 6, 2017) 878 Interview with Dr. Rwengabo Sabastian.ibid.

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arrangement system that is undemocratic. Army members of parliament were

voting based on what their boss wanted. They could not be allowed to make their

own decisions. The army had only six members of parliament, but they were

very powerful, more powerful than anyone else in that House. Whenever they

spoke, everyone listened because other members knew that they were purveying

the policies and decisions favored by their boss, Gen. Kagame.879

In fact, the influence of the military in the post-genocide parliament led some to question the

dominant narrative that the legislative assembly had been re-established as an independent

institution able to provide checks and balances on the executive. In essence, effective power was

vested somewhere within the inner circles of the military and was exercised by Kagame, who

concurrently served as Vice President and Minister of Defence. It was Kagame and dozens of his

armed associates who wielded ultimate authority in the post-genocide era.880 It is widely believed

that the same armed elites sabotaged the coalition government when it tried to establish

institutional mechanisms for civilian control of the army because those army elites were not willing

to be rendered politically neutral in the new political order that they had shed blood to establish.

The frustrations of civilian politicians with the growing military interference in political affairs

were laid bare in November 1994, less than a year after the new government was formed, when

the MDR, the main party in coalition with the RPF, issued a critical report on the situation in the

government.881 The report made eight critical points against the RPF and the military that included:

the violation of the fundamental law after the term of the transitional government was changed

from two years to five years, the failure to form a national army constituted by both ethnic Tutsi

and Hutu, the constant interference of the military in the political process, the arbitrary detention

of civilians in military camps, the illegal seizure of property by the military and the failure by the

RPF to clarify its judicial status, either as a party or something else. Some of the issues that the

MDR raised were serious as they pointed at frictions between the military and the civilian

government. For instance, the issue of arresting civilians and detaining them in military camps,

(under a policy that later came to be known as gutunga agatoki or “pointing the finger”, was

disparaged by many politicians in the coalition. They argued that the policy was designed to bring

879 Interview with a Rwandan Journalist, now living in exile (June 13, 2016) 880 Interview with a former RPF Intelligence Officer, who now lives in exile in Kampala, Uganda (June 20, 2016) 881 MDR 1994 Situation Report: Available online: https://uca.edu/politicalscience/dadm-project/sub-saharan-africa-region/rwanda-1962-present/( Accessed February 16, 2018)

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flimsy charges against civilians without following the due process of the law. As one observer

explained:

Detainees were shoved into the jails, and when those were full, they were pushed

into any available chosen space, including metallic containers for cargo, with

tiny vents and no toilets, where many died of suffocation and diseases. From

1,000 prisoners in August 1994 the number had risen to 6,000 at the end of the

year and kept growing exponentially to reach 23,000 by 1995.882

It should be recalled that, after the 1994 genocide, the judicial system in Rwanda was in ruins. For

instance, former Justice Minister Alhonse-Marie Nkubito indicated that he inherited an office with

one telephone and two typewriters. Corruption, inefficiency and lack of qualified personnel

grossly affected the judicial sector.883 Further compounding the problem was the fact that the new

regime remained reluctant to enact measures to develop a fully functional judicial system. As a

result, a group of Hutu ministers in the coalition government began to question the RPF’s

commitment to judicial prudence. They argued that RPF leaders were deliberately keeping the

judiciary in disarray in order to maintain full political control of judicial processes.

Accordingly, Hutu politicians in the coalition government proposed the idea of creating an

independent judicial inquiry to deliver justice for hundreds of thousands of suspects under

detention. To their surprise, however, military elites continued to drag their feet on the issue, which

forced these politicians to accuse the RPF of judicial sabotage. Frustrated at home, Hutu politicians

then demanded the creation of an international tribunal.884 When the United Nations Commission

on Human Rights (UNCHR) started deliberations on the rationale for an international tribunal for

Rwanda, RPF military elites launched a spirited campaign against UNCHR's move. Within the

Kigali regime, the fear was that such a move could expose the army’s own culpability in the

genocide.885

However, despite objections by the RPF government, on June 28, 1994, the UN Commission on

Human Rights reported on the gravity of the situation in Rwanda. Three days later, the UN Security

882 Gerald Prunier (2009) Pg. 8-9 883 Guichaoua, Andre. (2015) From War to Genocide: Criminal Politics in Rwanda, 1990–1994. Madison: University of Wisconsin Press 884 Interview with a former RPF officer now in exile.ibid. 885 Reyntjens (2010). Ibid. pg.15

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Council adopted resolution 935 establishing a committee of experts to investigate the violation of

humanitarian law in Rwanda.886 The committee documented evidence of human rights violations

and acts of genocide and called for the prosecution of perpetrators. The final report of the

committee recommended the creation of an international tribunal. Subsequently, on November 8,

1994, the Security Council adopted Resolution 955 that established the International Criminal

Tribunal for Rwanda (ICTR). It was charged with prosecuting “persons responsible for serious

violations of international humanitarian law committed in the territory of Rwanda and Rwandan

citizens responsible for such violations committed in the territory of neighboring states…”887 Still,

RPF elites continued to oppose the creation of the tribunal and voted against the decision.888 They

raised a number of objections ranging from the failure to use Rwandan judges to the decision to

hold trials outside Rwanda. Some analysts interviewed for this research argued that RPF military

elites rejected the tribunal because it deprived them of any role in the selection of judges to serve

on the tribunal. Also, they unsuccessfully lobbied to have the tribunal stationed in Rwanda, where

they could have some control over the proceedings. As one interviewee noted:

Army generals never wanted to have an independent tribunal that could find

them guilty of human rights violations and the death of many Hutu refugees who

were killed fleeing to eastern Congo. RPF lobbied the UN to let Rwanda create

its own tribunal with the UN as an observer. When that did not work, they

worked hard to sabotage the whole process through denying the tribunal access

to key witnesses and evidence.889

Indeed, when the ICTR became operational, it soon found itself in a difficult relationship with the

ruling elites in Rwanda. The trouble started when ICTR expressed interest in investigating crimes

allegedly committed by the RPF’s military elites. Instantaneously, RPF military leader Kagame

went public with his criticisms of the ICTR. He questioned its effectiveness and demanded that

the ICTR stop its proceedings. Kagame further vowed that Rwanda would not cooperate with the

886 See the website of UN Assistance Mission for Rwanda: online: http://www.un.org/Depts/DPKO/Missions/unamir_b.htm (Accessed 20 May 2018). 887 See the Statute of the International Criminal Tribunal for the Prosecution of Persons Responsible for Genocide and Other Serious Violations of International Humanitarian Law Committed in the Territory of Rwanda and Rwandan Citizens Responsible for Genocide and Other Such Violations Committed in the Territory of Neighbouring States, between 1 January 1994 and 31 December 1994 888 Maogoto, J. Nyamuya (2004) “The International Criminal Tribunal for Rwanda: A Paper Umbrella in the Rain? Initial Pitfalls and Brighter Prospects.” Nordic Journal of International Law, Vol. 73, No. 2, 2004. 889 Interview with a former RPF officer, now living in exile.ibid.

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tribunal or share any information with it.890 Under pressure, the ICTR changed its focus to

exclusively investigate genocide cases committed by leaders and supporters of the ousted regime.

The Rwandan government refused to facilitate the transportation of witnesses from Rwanda or

release documents that the ICTR requested until the tribunal had dropped its interest in

investigating top RPF military leaders. The failure by Rwandan authorities to cooperate with

investigations meant that the crimes committed by the RPF army were left unaddressed – just as

Kagame had demanded. In 2000, ICTR Chief Prosecutor Carla Del Ponte admitted that she had

discussed with Kagame the contentious issue of the RPF’s role in the massacres. But, due to

intransigence from the Rwandan regime, her efforts to investigate the alleged crimes of the RPF

military leaders were unsuccessful. Speaking about this issue, Del Ponte noted that; "I need access

to witnesses... being realistic, without their [RPF] co-operation, I can get nowhere".891 In a 2014

progress report issued in the lead-up to the commemoration of twenty years after genocide, the

Human Rights Watch noted that:

Although the ICTR had a clear mandate to prosecute these crimes (its jurisdiction

covers genocide, war crimes and crimes against humanity), not a single RPF case

has been brought before the ICTR for prosecution, creating a sentiment among

some Rwandans and international legal observers that it provided only victor’s

justice.892

It is apparent from the above discussion that not only did military elites in Rwanda seek to

undermine the creation of a functioning judicial system in the post-genocide era, they also worked

hard to incapacitate, and sabotage decisions taken by civilian politicians, including those made by

the President and the Prime Minister. By the year 2000, the discreet disagreements between

politicians and military elites had descended into a fully-blown political stalemate, with each side

seeking to sabotage the other’s aims. Inevitably, this led to a political crisis that engulfed the post-

genocide coalition government.

890 See President Kagame’s speech to mark the 18th anniversary of the Rwandan genocide. Available at http://www.paulkagame.com (Accessed March 2, 2019) 891 Relief Web (December) 4, 2000) “Del Ponte addresses alleged RPF massacres with Kagame Available online: https://reliefweb.int/report/rwanda/rwanda-del-ponte-addresses-alleged-rpf-massacres-kagame (Accessed May 20, 2018) 892 Human Rights Watch 2014 report. Available online: https://www.hrw.org/news/2014/03/28/rwanda-justice-after-genocide-20-years (Accessed 15 September 2018).

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National Security Politics and Civil-Military Tension

A few months following the formation of the coalition government, reports of civil-military

tension started to emerge. The disagreement revolved around certain political decisions taken at

the legislative and executive levels of government. On the one hand, senior military officials

accused politicians of taking decisions the army considered detrimental to Rwanda’s national

security. On the other hand, politicians were outraged by the military’s tendency to make deadly

military operations without the knowledge and authorization of the Executive. This led politicians

to accuse Rwanda’s military elites of usurping executive power. By 1995, these tensions, which

for long had simmered behind the scenes, became public with the President and the Prime Minister

publicly criticizing each other. The Prime Minister questioned some of the decisions taken by the

military, particularly those concerning the handling of political prisoners, forced repatriation of

refugees and death of civilians in various post-genocide security operations. Below, I provide a

detailed chronicle of these disagreements.

The most prominent public dispute between Rwanda’s military elites and politicians emerged in

the first quarter of 1995. The dispute related to insecurity and the deaths of civilians in military

operations that politicians were not aware of. For instance, Prime Minister Faustin Twagiramungu

was critical of the way innocent civilians were killed by the army in a violent pacification exercise.

He was concerned that Hutu extremists could exploit reports of civilian deaths to engage in a

revisionist agenda that could lead to “double genocide.”893 As a civilian politician with no

historical connection to the RPF, Twagiramungu often acknowledged the violence and apologized

in public broadcasts. He continuously accepted blame for the government’s failure to protect

civilians and encouraged the military to exercise restraint. In one of the broadcasts responding to

violence, Twagiramungu noted that:

We cannot deny that we have not provided security... .. people are still being

killed like by the earlier ones [i.e., the MRND regime]. We are all angry, but we

cannot take spears and machetes and keep killing one another.894

893Prunier (2002) ibid. p. 33 894 Prunier (2008) p.8

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The move by Twagiramungu to accuse the military of killing civilians angered RPF military

leaders. They accused him of running a smear campaign against the army that had sacrificed a lot

to stop the genocide. Later Kagame challenged Twagiramungu to a public debate to clarify the

situation. However, this debate wasn’t useful in the big scheme of things because Kagame strongly

defended the pacification campaign and Twagiramungu also did not waver on his position.

Post-genocide violence was to a large extent fueled by the RPF’s desire to show that it was doing

something against those suspected of perpetrating the genocide. Many survivors were said to be

furious at the RPF for failing to punish those who had participated in the genocide. Kagame himself

shared a similar view in an interview with a Belgian newspaper (Le Soir) in which he supported

the army’s actions of identifying, arresting and detaining the alleged genocide suspects who were

living within displaced camps. Kagame criticized the international community for opposing

military operations against alleged genocidaires, arguing that victims needed swift justice, yet the

international community was simply wasting time preparing for tribunals. He noted that:

...There are more than a million victims, so there must be culprits: Where are

they? international opinion should be understanding of us. It is hard for justice

to get started again…. How can we forget and forgive? If we did, everything

would blow up sooner or later. You don’t bury the feelings of people whose

relatives lie in mass graves…. There are many criminals in those camps and our

patience is nearing its end…. Innocents must go home and the guilty must be

arrested…895

The problem with Kagame’s statement is that Rwanda lacked a functional judicial process to

determine who was innocent or who was guilty of genocide. As the dispute over questions of

justice continued to boil over, Prime Minister Twagiramungu publicly asked the military to put

30,000 detainees on trial or release them. Many of these individuals were arrested under the so-

called gutunga agatoki (pointing a finger) policy under which a “mixture of genuine killers,

hapless hangers-on, victims of property quarrels, cuckolded husbands and common criminals”

were all rounded up by the military.896 By mid-1995 about 44,000 people were in detention. The

895 Prunier (2009). Ibid. P.10 896 Prunier. (2008) Africa’s World War: Congo, the Rwandan Genocide, and the Making of a Continental Catastrophe” Oxford University Press. pg11

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number increased from 55,000 in November 1995 to 70,000 in February 1996 and then to 80,000

in August 1996.897 Because Rwanda lacked financial resources and technical capacity to construct

the necessary detention facilities, the military could turn anything into a detention facility,

including holes dug into the ground and covered with iron sheets and cement blocks.

The conditions under which the detainees were kept left a lot to be desired. Some were beaten to

death while others died of diseases such as malaria, typhoid and cholera. For instance, in March

1995, about 22 prisoners were choked to death in a prison at Muhima gendarmerie brigade. A

similar number of prisoners were killed by their jailers in a makeshift prison close to Kibuye.898

Médecins Sans Frontières (MSF), a Geneva-based humanitarian organization, documented a

thousand deaths between October 1994 and June 1995 in Gitarama. The Red Cross decried the

filthy conditions of 183 detention centers.899

To many civilian politicians serving in the coalition government, the issue of prisoners was very

worrisome. Since the RPF did not appeared to be interested in improving the justice system, some

politicians suggested that foreign judges be hired to come to Rwanda and preside over the trials of

thousands under military detention. However, this suggestion was equally rejected by RPF military

leaders as unconstitutional. The government maintained its dangerous detention policies even

when the prisoner population reached 100,000 in 1997.900

Unable to stop arrests and death in prisons, one minister, Seth Sendashonga, wrote many memos

addressed to Kagame and complaining about the arrests and killings of civilians. Kagame’s

responses were a mixture of denials and feigned ignorance, and later he stopped responding to

Sendashonga’s memos. As frustration grew, some ministers resigned from the coalition

government, but many stayed in hopes that the RPF would change its deadly detention policies for

purposes of achieving national unity. This, however, did not come to pass.

897 Prunier (2008). ibid. 898 See, for example, a report by USA State Department on Rwanda’s human rights situation. Available online: https://www.state.gov/documents/organization/160139.pdf (accessed May 27, 2018) 899 Médecins Sans Frontières 2004 report “The Violence of the New Rwandan Regime 1994-1995” Available http://speakingout.msf.org/sites (Accessed May 27, 2017) 900 Laurence, Binet (2014) “Genocide of Rwandan Tutsi 1994” Médecins Sans Frontières International Movement.

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The crisis further escalated in 1995 when military leaders took a decision to close down all the

refugee camps that sheltered the displaced population under the pretext that Hutu extremists had

infiltrated the camps. The army claimed that the camps were being used for recruitment and

radicalization by Hutu militia. Refugees were to be sent to their homes, while the so-called Hutu

extremists living in the camps were to be arrested and sent to jail. However, many of the refugees

feared reprisals if they went back to their villages. Others feared they could be mistaken for militia

and therefore get arrested or killed in the military crackdown. Despite these concerns, military

leaders were determined to forcefully close all displaced people's camps and repatriate all refugees.

On April 22, 1995, military units moved in and opened fire on Kibeho refugee camp in

southwestern Rwanda in a massacre that left thousands of people dead.901 The Kibeho camp was

the largest in the country and sheltered between 80,000 to 120,000 refugees, majority of whom

were Hutu. In this camp alone, about 4,000 people were killed by the military, according to

Australian soldiers who at the time were serving as part of the United Nations Assistance Mission

for Rwanda. One Australian soldier who witnessed the massacre described it as indiscriminate

killing of innocent civilians, including children and mothers. He noted:

The killing just went on and on right in front of us. None were spared, not even

the babies on their mother’s backs… We could see hundreds and hundreds of

dead bodies littering the ground. We could hear the injured crying out in pain.

But there was nothing more we could do that day to help these people.902

Facing growing international condemnation over the Kibeho massacre, the Rwandan government

agreed to an international inquiry to establish the circumstances leading to ––and the nature of––

the massacre. Yet, to the surprise of many observers, the army moved in quickly and started

digging up the corpses, a move that enraged diplomats and senior UN officials. Mr. Shaharyar

Khan, the UN special envoy to Rwanda at the time of the Kibeho massacre, criticized the action

taken by the military to dig up bodies after the inquiry was announced and before the UN gained

901 Pickard Perry (2010) An eyewitness account of the Kibeho Massacre: An Australian's Eyewitness Account of the Kibeho Massacre. Big Sky Publishing Pty, Newport. Australia. 902 Stevenson, Kelly (2015) “Australian troops remember Kibeho massacre in Rwanda”Available online: www.news.com.au/national/northern-territory/australian-troops-remember-kibeho-massacre-in-rwanda/news-story/1c6be840029a30cb1be26b0f3b96242c (Accessed March 23, 2018)

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complete access to the site. He noted: “What's the point of establishing a commission and then pre-

empting the work of the commission and start digging?”903

It is clear from the above discussion that armed elites made operational decisions without seeking

authorization from political actors who led the coalition government. This signals that politicians

were never in control of the army as it remained under the command of Kagame and his inner

circle of armed elites. While officially Bizimungu was President of the republic, he had no powers

over military affairs and many of the decisions taken by the army were taken without his

knowledge. After the Kibeho massacre, Bizimungu expressed his frustration over the situation,

including the decision to start exhumations of Kibeho mass graves before the inquiry began its

work. He described the whole process as a "painful exercise” that needed to be addressed before

any talks for reconciliation.904

As the political stand-off between military leaders and politicians deteriorated, the army devised

ways to discredit politicians who were critical of its actions. Working with some RPF-aligned

politicians in the coalition, military leaders started accusing political actors opposed to army

operations of corruption and misuse of office, charges that these politicians insisted were

politically motivated and meant to deter them from criticizing the military’s underhand methods.

Given the immense power and influence the army enjoyed (largely because of its role in stopping

the genocide), it was certain of public support against its critics. Indeed, the army exploited public

support to cement its privileged position and to ensure that no other group in post-genocide

Rwanda could gain as much influence. One RPF historian explains:

As the Vice President and the commander of the army, General Kagame, and his

inner circle gained so much power than anyone else, no one could be appointed

a minister, a judge, a governor, an ambassador or be selected to serve in

parliament without their consent. It is public knowledge that even decisions

taken by the parliament were first approved by Kagame and his inner circle. Such

decisions could then be brought to the House simply for rubberstamping.905

903 Lorch, Donatella (1995) “Rwanda Calls for Others to Join Massacre Inquiry” The New York Times (April 28) Available online: https://www.nytimes.com/1995/04/28/world/rwanda-calls-for-others-to-join-massacre-inquiry.html (Accessed March 23, 2018) 904 Lorch Donatella (1995), ibid. 905 Interview with an RPF historian (12)

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Forced Political Resignations

Politicians who became disillusioned with the situation slowly started resigning from the

coalition government. For instance, in February 2000 Pierre Celestin Rwigema, resigned as

Prime Minister after a spirited dispute with the RPF. Rwigema’s resignation followed that

of Speaker of Parliament Joseph Sebarezi, Prime Minister Faustin Twagiramungu and

Interior Minister Seth Sendashonga, who resigned from the coalition government and fled

into exile. In March 2000, a political power struggle between President Bizimungu and Vice

President Kagame reached a boiling point when Bizimungu decided to resign.906 In his one-

sentence resignation letter, Bizimungu claimed that he was leaving the presidency for

"personal reasons."907 However, in a later explanation about the incident Bizimungu

admitted that he was never fully in charge even though he was officially the President and

Head of State. His disagreements with Kagame ranged from issues such as the composition

of the cabinet, to military arrests and dismissal of government ministers, most of them Hutu,

without his knowledge. He further explained that his resignation was prompted by his

suspicion that RPF military elites were going to get rid of him. He explained that:

The first break [with General Kagame] dates from September 1999, when the

RPF members of parliament wrote to Kagame to demand dismissal of two Hutu

minister from socialist party without consulting me. They accused him of

corruption. I telephoned Kagame. He responded that the people could not hide

themselves behind their ethnicity to gain impunity…. the problem was repeated

two days later for six other Hutu in the government. I did not want to intervene

officially to avoid criticism that I only intervene in favour of Hutu…. We spent

months bickering. When I understood that they were going to get rid of me, I

took the initiative [to resign].908

The statement by Bizimungu confirmed concerns expressed by various political observers who

had warned that Bizimungu’s presidency was simply ceremonial and that it was General Kagame

906 The Independent (2000) “Rwanda in Crisis as President Resigns” March 23. Available online: https://www.independent.co.uk/news/world/africa/rwanda-in-crisis-as-president-resigns-284939.html (Accessed May 24, 2018) 907 Pasteur Bizimungu Resignation Letter, March 23, 2000, Official Gazette Special Issue (March 28, 2000) 908 Woldorf Lars (2009) “A justice “Trickle-Down”: Rwanda’s First Post-genocide Presidential Trial” in: Lutz L. Ellen and Reigger Caitlin (eds): Prosecuting Heads of State. New York: Cambridge University Press. Pg.155

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and his circle of military elites who effectively wielded power. In addition, within days of

Bizimungu's resignation, his political aide Assiel Kabera was killed under unclear circumstances

many described as a “political assassination”909 because he was close to many officials who had

fallen out with the RPF.910

Hoping to still play a role in the post-genocide political dispensation, Bizimungu and his

colleagues formed a political party called PDR-Ubuyanja (Party of Democracy and Renewal).

Other signatories to PDR-Ubuyanja's founding statute included Charles Ntakirutinka (a former

cabinet minister), Major Sam Bigabiro (a former RPF officer), Eugene Rwibasira (a former deputy

governor) and Denis Ntakirutimana (a former prosecutor at Kigali Court of Appeal). The

composition of the party included both Hutu and Tutsi. But the RPF banned PDR-Ubuyanja within

weeks of its formation, arguing that no new political party should be formed when the country was

still under a transition period. When Bizimungu called a press conference to speak about the

matter, security forces broke up the event, briefly detained him and confiscated all the recorded

interviews by journalists, including audio records of the BBC and the Voice of America.911 The

next day Kagame, who had assumed the presidency, cancelled all the privileges which Bizimungu

enjoyed as a former president. In an interview with Jeune Afrique L’intelligent, Bizimungu

accused the army of political sabotage and called for a new approach to military integration that

can guarantee equal ethnic representation in the army similar to what had happened in neighboring

Burundi. He noted that:

We hoped that with RPF things will change but we have been disappointed.... One cannot

govern Rwanda with an army that is 100 percent Tutsi when 85 percent of the population is

Hutu!912

In response, Kagame accused Bizimungu and those Western countries that had turned critical of

Rwanda’s military interference in politics of trying to instigate ethnic tensions in the country. He

accused Bizimungu and Western donor countries of complicity in the 1994 genocide and reminded

909 Human Rights Watch (March 27,2000) “Assassination of Assie Kabera and Antoinette Kagaju” Available online at: https://www.hrw.org/reports/2000/rwanda/Rwan004-07.htm (Accessed March 19, 2018) 910 BBC (2000) ‘Assassination in Kigali’” March 6. Available online http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/africa/668046.stm (Accessed May 17, 2018) 911 AllAfrica.Com "Kagame Predecessor Under House Arrest” June 1, 2001. Available: http://allafrica.com/stories/200106010025.html (Accessed May 24, 2018) 912 Woldorf, Lars (2009). Ibid. p.159

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Rwandans that it was the RPF that had stopped genocide and it would be the RPF to stop genocide

if it happened again. Less than a month after Kagame’s speech, Bizimungu and his colleague

Ntakirutinka were arrested and charged with endangering state security, fostering ethnic division

and engaging in illegal political activity. The charges were later modified to plotting to overthrow

the government, inciting a rebellion and forming a criminal association. In 2004, Bizimungu was

found guilty and sentenced to 15 years in jail in a trial that was criticized by human rights

organizations and diplomats as politically motivated.913 After serving three years in jail, he was

freed in what was described as an act of clemency by Kagame.914He now lives a low-key life in

Rwanda and rarely appears in public or makes political comments.

Drawing from the above discussion, what is apparent is that, between 1994 and early 2000, the

military in Rwanda was covertly in charge of the post-genocide political system. The resignation

of President Bizimungu paved way for a direct military takeover of power under RPF military

leader Kagame, who for long had wielded real power behind the scenes. It is also clear that efforts

by civilian politicians to gain control over the army were resisted by the military elites. The

insistence of civilian politicians to gain supremacy over the military provoked defiance from RPF

armed elites and culminated in the rise to the Presidency of a military man (General Kagame) after

he successfully engineered the resignation of a civilian, Pasteur Bizimungu.

From Indirect to Direct Military Control

Following the resignation of President Bizimungu, Kagame was sworn in as the substantive Head

of State in April 2000. In a speech delivered at his inauguration, he emphasized that his peaceful

takeover of power represented the first time a change in national leadership had been achieved

without provoking political turmoil. Although Kagame portrayed his political ascension as a

triumph against RPF foes, critics accused him of engineering a soft, gentle coup d'état that was

913 BBC (June 7, 2004) “From President to Prison” Available online: http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/africa/3728807.stm (Accessed May 23, 2018) 914 Washington Post (April 6, 2007) “Former Rwandan President Pardoned” Available online: http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/content/article/2007/04/06/AR2007040600879.html (Accessed May 26, 2018)

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deceptively “stage-managed” by military elites to show an illusory semblance of a peaceful

transition.915

The transition ushered in a new era in which the army extended its reach and consolidated its status

and privileges both politically and socio-economically. Military elites were quite effective at

concealing their political role between 1994 and 2000, but the collapse of the post-genocide

coalition government prompted elites within the army, who had for long indirectly controlled the

system, to come to the political forefront, with Kagame at the helm. As a result, to date, the army’s

footprint in the social, economic and political life of Rwanda is both public and extensive.916 In

contrast to Uganda where the military does not engage in large scale economic investments for

profit generation, the Rwandan military is very much engaged in economic industrialization and

service sector development. From owning Horizon Group, the largest construction company in the

country, to engaging in controversial mineral trading in Congo under the Tri-Star holding

company, Rwandan military elites have unparalleled authority in the country’s economic system.

Crystal Ventures, the RPF’s holding company, operates several investments in finance, agriculture,

furniture, milik, road construction, processing, coffee shops, private security, and real estate and

crystal Ventures is estimated to have $500m of assets.917

Furthermore, the army owns Zigama, the largest micro-finance institution in the country, and is

engaged in pyrethrum processing under Horizon Sopyrwa, an agri-tech company at a plant in

Musanze district.918 Some military-owned ventures are run by private technocrats. For instance,

Horizon Group, which owns some of the largest companies in the country, is run as a private

holding venture. Its board is constituted by civilians, but its CEO has to be vetted and seconded by

the army, and this post has always been occupied by someone with a military rank.

While the army’s role in post-genocide economic reconstruction is widespread, the section below

shall focus on understanding the army’s footprints in sociopolitical reconstruction of post-genocide

Rwanda. Specifically, the section explores three projects –– Ingando, Umuganda and Itorero ––

915 BBC (April 17, 2000) “Kagame Elected President”, Available online: http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/africa/716861.stm (Accessed May 23, 2018 916 Behuria, Pritish (2016) “Centralising Rents and Dispersing Power While Pursuing Development? Exploring the Strategic Uses of Military Firms in Rwanda.” Review of African Political Economy 43, no. 150: 630–647. 917 See for example, the Economist magazine, March 2, 2017. Available online: https://www.economist.com/business/2017/03/02/the-rwandan-patriotic-fronts-business-empire (Accessed June 4, 2019) 918 See information on Sopyrwa company website: http://sopyrwa.com (Accessed April 17, 2018)

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that were carefully designed and spearheaded by military elites, with the sole aim of strengthening

the army’s grip on sociopolitical processes in Rwanda. Although the three projects were launched

under the umbrella of fostering unity and reconciliation after genocide, they have instead served

as vehicles for sociopolitical control. The nature of these projects and the manner in which the

regime has robustly implemented them forms the core of the debate in this section.

Ingando as a Pillar of Sociopolitical Control

At this point, it is imperative to pose one critical question: What is the role of Rwanda’s military

(RDF) in post-genocide sociopolitical transformation? Aware of the pervasiveness of social

disharmony in Rwandan society, the military had by 1995 started to devise ways to tighten its grip

on forces that would later define the post-genocide society. The new strategy entailed developing

national programs to promote national interests, restoring mutual trust, peaceful development,

ethnic coexistence and governmentality.919 The army moved quickly to develop systems to

maximize factors conducive for social harmony and political stability while minimizing the role

of those that could undermine it. Military elites realized that, to control the post-genocide society,

there was a need to develop structures for societal management and to create social systems to

support lasting interpersonal relations.920 For this approach to be successful, the army had to

integrate itself within governance structures at grassroots. Initially, the involvement of the army in

grassroots government activities was touted by the regime as necessary for proper implementation

of government projects but soon the army was playing the role of gathering intelligence and

surveilling society.

Working under the umbrella of fostering reconciliation, the Rwandan army introduced Ingando, a

nationalist propaganda program which, the army said, was intended to rebuild social relations and

propagate unity and nationalism, and help the country forge a new sense of national identity.921

Under this program, thousands of Rwandan youths are collected in military trucks and taken to

remote camps, isolated from their families and communities for weeks and taught lessons in

919 National Unity and Reconciliation Commission (NURC) (2009) ‘Strategic Plan of the Unity and Reconciliation Committee” 2009-2012. 920 Ansoms, A. (2009) ‘Re-engineering rural society: the visions and ambitions of the Rwandan elite’, African Affairs, 108, 431: 289-30 921 Purdeková Andrea (2011) “Rwanda’s Ingando Camps: Liminality and the reproduction of Power” Working Paper Series No.80 Refugee Studies Centre, University of Oxford

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Rwandan history, nationalism, societal values and governmentality. They are forced to learn the

‘good work RPF did to save their society from genocide’.922 They engage in singing, dancing,

manual work and military exercise with the intent of building interpersonal trust and repairing

social relations. While the government has maintained that ingando is intended to promote good

social relations, critics argue that it has entrenched the military’s role in the social fabric of

Rwandan society.923

The military is at the forefront of the management and implementation of the ingando program.

The army engages in national mobilization of hundreds of thousands of youths and supervises

isolated camps.924 According to the government, this reinterpretation and reconstruction of social

relations is intended for nation-building which is critical in the post-genocide situation. As one

RPF officer explains: “In [today’s] ingando, individuals are reminded to subject their interests to

the national ideal and give Rwanda their all.”925

While the regime is reluctant to highlight the army’s role, ingando is fundamentally a brainchild

of military elites because it is the elites in the army who developed modalities for transforming

ingando and expeditiously re-introduced it as nation-building tool. Initially, the army sought to

use ingando to integrate thousands of ex-FAR combatants into the new national army. The idea

was to gather ex-FAR fighters, send them to remote camps from where they would be taught RPF

ideals and values before being integrated into the armed forces. The first mass mobilization of

ingando took place in 1996. It was mostly composed of Tutsi returnees. One of the first organizers

of ingando has revealed that the first targets were both ex-FAR combatants who were to be

integrated into the army as well as civilian youth, Hutu returnees and Tutsi returnees from the

diaspora. The Ministry of Youth, Culture and Sports organized the first ingando for youth in

Gishari (Eastern Province), with up to 2,000 youth attending the first camps. International

organizations like UNICEF, UNHCR and WHO funded the first ingando camps following the

genocide. In 1999, the Rwandan National Unity and Reconciliation Commission (NURC) took

922 Interview with Eugenia Kayitesi. Ibid. 923 Interview with Ex-soldier/Former Ingando Participant, Kigali, Rwanda 924 Interview with Col. Rutaremara. Ibid. 925 General Rusagara, quoted in PRI 2004: 111.

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over control of ingando camps for youth, though different ministries and government departments

continued to organize their own versions of ingando.

The strong role of the army in social engineering of post-genocide Rwandan society has surprised

many scholars and regional political observers, but this should not have come as a surprise.

Traditionally, ingando is a concept associated with the military. According to Rwanda’s National

Unity and Reconciliation Commission (NURC), ingando’s origins can be traced back to pre-

colonial military custom in which fighters were required to engage in acts of "halting normal

activities to reflect on and find solutions to national challenges.”926 Later, ingando military camps

were stopped when kings (abami) were introduced in the last quarter of the 18th century. The

relevance of ingando was further diluted when the country was placed under the Belgian colonial

administration.927 Following the genocide, the practice was reinvented by the RPF in the post-

genocide era as kuganda (to camp). In the army kuganda is a process in which army men leave

their shelter and kuganda (camp) at the border to protect the country from external infiltration.

The nature and character of kuganda practice forms the foundation of ingando. Unlike kuganda,

the scope of ingando has been broadened by the military and now it includes encampments where

campaign strategies and plans are made. Whereas ingando was a military practice in the pre-

genocide era, RPF military elites fundamentally broadened it to include civilians after the 1994

genocide.

The most controversial aspect of ingando is not that thousands of people have to go through this

indoctrination exercise but rather the mandatory nature of it and the remote location of camps and

the way the exercise is conducted.928 Many ingando camps have been built in remote areas.

Participants in ingando are not allowed to use mobile phones or other forms of communication

with their families or friends. In some camps members are forced to wear similar uniforms as the

regime insists that this symbolizes unity and close identity. Once in camps, participants are not

allowed to leave until the training course is completed. The camps are supervised by the military

with its vast intelligence apparatus.929 Participants only leave camps to carry out community work

like working as casual laborers on government construction sites such as bridges and roads. It is

926 Information obtained from the Website of Rwanda’s National Unity and Reconciliation Commission http://www.nurc.gov.rw/index.php?id=69 (Accessed March 23, 2018) 927 Shyake, A. (2007) ‘Home Grown Mechanisms of Conflict Resolution in Africa’s Great Lakes Region’, Global Studies Review 3(1). Available at: http://www.globality- gmu.net/archives/893 (accessed 7 September 2011) 928 Interview with a former Ingando camp supervisor, in Kigali, Rwanda 929 Interview with exiled Rwandan Journalist. Ibid.

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for this matter that critics have argued that the strictness of ingando is meant to reinforce

hierarchies, discipline, respect for the authorities and shared characteristics.930

Initially igando activities took place in makeshift tents but, with the steady in-flow of foreign aid,

the government was able to build permanent or semi-permanent structures in most ingando camps.

Churches have also been empowered to run their own ingando activities, though these are equally

micromanaged by the regime's political cadres and military officers. The content of what is taught

in ingando camps is as controversial as are its intentions. There are four activities that are common

with ingando: manual labor, military training, history lectures and cultural activities. There are

periods of igitaramo or ikitamadune (evenings of singing and dancing), military and non-military

physical exercises, as well as learning the history of the RPF, the genocide and the ills of the old

regime.931 The RPF regime maintains that ingando activities are voluntary, pointing to the fact

that there has not been any law to make it mandatory. However, many ex-ingando trainees

interviewed for this research disputed the claim. As one director of a local secondary school noted:

At secondary school level, all students are mandated to undergo ingando

training. If a school fails to make students available for ingando or if students

refuse to participate in ingando, the consequences are dire.932

A report by Human Rights Watch issued in 2000 revealed that many ingando participants were

told by authorities that they must take part in the exercise if they don’t want to get in trouble with

authorities. The report further noted that students in Rwandan secondary schools cannot be

enrolled into universities unless they have undergone ingando training and acquired an ingando

certificate. A former employee of the NURC admitted that some universities require an ingando

certificate from students during enrollment.933

Because hundreds of thousands of Rwandans lived outside their country as refugees for decades,

ingando is presented as a significant component in nation-building. According to Rwandan

authorities, it is a tool for uniting the ‘returnees’ (some whom were seeing their country for the

930 Ryntjens. Ibid. 931 Interview with a Rwandan government official. ibid. 932 Interview with a director of a local secondary school who preferred to remain anonymous 933 Interview with EX-NURC official who preferred to remain anonymous

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first time)934 and other Rwandans who never left the country and endured the brunt of genocide.935

The government presents ingando as a ‘home-grown initiative’ to help Rwandans develop social

trust, create a sense of community and animate a national moral psychology that could help the

post-genocide population overcome divisive ethnic identification.936 As far as the military's role is

concerned, officials argue that, since the new regime promised to transform the army from a Tutsi-

dominated outfit into a national army that embodies the identity and aspirations of Rwanda,

ingando is therefore a way to facilitate this transformation.937 It is in line with this thinking that

the military changed its name from Rwandan Patriotic Army (RPA) to Rwandan Defence Forces

(RDF).

From the above discussion it is clear that activities of ingando show how the state and its

intelligence apparatus have penetrated Rwandan society and sought to engineer a top-down social

transformation.938 The state seeks to use the program to reconstruct social relations. Ingando has

served as a foundation for the state to influence and dominate other social groups like the church,

self-help groups, civic groups and local associations to a degree never seen before. In designing

ingando, Rwandan elites understood that unity and reconciliation would not be easily attained in

post-genocide Rwanda without a clear nationalist ideology.939 There was a need to dismantle the

forces of ethnicity and create a new pragmatic nationalism that would guarantee legitimate

governance of the post-genocide society.

While building unity and reconciliation in post-genocide Rwanda was considered critical, ingando

as a nationalist project has generated intense debate and criticism. The program exclusively targets

youth between 15 to 35years. It is run like a military camp and many of its activities are under the

control and direction of the Rwandan army. As a result, ingando is a sensitive topic for the

government and even an uncomfortable one for donors. Any interpretation of ingando activities

that doesn’t fall within the official description provided by the regime is condemned by Rwandan

authorities and overlooked by donors. The donors consider demilitarization to be a cornerstone of

peacebuilding, but they have kept silent as Rwanda continues to militarize thousands of young

934 Radio Rwanda. (1997) ‘President Launches Campaign to Integrate Returning Refugees’, BBC Monitoring Service Africa, Excerpts from Radio Rwanda broadcast on 24 May (0515 GMT). 935 Rusagara, F. (2006) ‘NURC: The Facilitator to Participatory Conflict Management’, The New Times (Kigali)/All Africa Global Media, 1 March. 936 Kagire, E. (2010) ‘Home Grown Ideas Working for Rwanda —Kagame’, The New Times, Kigali, 8 February. 937 Interview with General Frank Mugambage. Ibid. 938 Filip Reyntjens, (2004) “Rwanda, Ten Years On: From Genocide to Dictatorship,”103 African Affairs. 171, 178 (2004). 939 Interview with General Frank Mugambage. Ibid.

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people through ingando activities. An official at UNDP office in Rwanda interviewed for this

research confessed that UNDP-funded ingando activities are supposed to focus exclusively on

unity and reconciliation but was unable to explain the military aspect of these activities.940 In terms

of de-ethnicization of the post-genocide society, it is not clear whether ingando has had any

significant impact on social relations. Some interviewees suggested that ingando has been

counterproductive.

Many youths don’t want to go for ingando but do attend out of fear. There is a

general feeling that to get a government job or acceptance into a public university

one should present his/her ingando certificate. Many youths go for ingando camp

not out of their own willingness, but simply because they feel that it is what the

regime wants them to do.941

Other interviewees suggested that the program is more focused on promoting ideals for political

and social control rather than unity and reconciliation. These concerns should not be taken lightly

as there is a staggering difference between the official description of ingando and what precisely

ingando means on the ground. The official description of ingando is vague and many of its

activities are disguised, which leaves a confusing picture. Regime officials often describe ingando

gatherings as ‘solidarity camps’, ‘re-education camps’, ‘civic education camps’, ‘political

awareness camps’, ‘re-integration course’ or ‘reorientation camps.’942 Such ambiguity has allowed

the regime to use ingando for different kinds of political projects.

Umuganda and Itorero as Pillars of Socio-political Control

Apart from ingando, the government has introduced another nationalist program called

Umuganda.943 The government says umuganda is meant to heal the wounds of genocide by

allowing people to express their love for the country. Umuganda is carried out every last day of

the month, from morning until afternoon. Residents employ tools (hoes, machetes, spades and

wheelbarrows) to clean up their neighborhoods, hospitals, streets, schools and roads. The regime

has argued that these activities are meant to construct a new Rwandan society and to nurture a

940 Interview with a UNDP-Rwanda country expert. ibid. 941 Interview with a Rwandan youth activist in Kigali, Rwanda. 942 Chi Mgbako, (2005) “Ingando Solidarity Camps: Reconciliation and Political Indoctrination in Post-Genocide Rwanda Note” Harvard Human Rights Journal. 201 943 See, for example, National Unity and Reconciliation Commission (NURG) 2009 Strategic Plan of the Unity and Reconciliation Committee, 2009-2012. Available http://www.nurc.gov.rw (Accessed May 22, 2018)

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shared sense of nationalism and communal belonging. The military and its vast network of

intelligence agencies is again at the forefront of implementing this program. Similar to Ingando,

regime officials claim that umuganda is a form of ‘voluntary’ work.944 However, intelligence

agencies and local council leaders monitor and enforce citizens’ compliance, especially in the

countryside. Under umuganda, local meetings are organized at every village during which

Rwandans are taught about how to be ‘good citizens.’945

Apart from ingando and Umuganda, authorities have developed another mobilization program

called the “Itorero ry’igihugu”946 (the National Cultural Academy). Itorero is similar to ingando

but it is more advanced as its targets are adult Rwandans. General Frank Rusagara, one of the

architects of both programs, has argued that these programs are all designed to teach nationals

lessons in history, culture and create a sense of common identity.947 Under itorero, participants are

taught a wide range of nation-building lessons, including military training, political education,

patriotism, health habits and mechanisms for dismantling genocide ideology. The closure of

iterero training ends with a mass graduation ceremony held at the National Stadium in the capital,

Kigali. The graduation ceremony is often presided over by President Kagame.

Unlike ingando, itorero is a relatively new project that began in 2007 with the grand ambition of

reaching every Rwandan national. The government has embedded itorero within local and village

administrative structures. Itorero graduates are then enlisted to play a role in training other

participants during ingando camps as they are considered more advanced both in terms of their

knowledge of Rwandan history and in their support for the regime. Itorero training has been

expanded to include vocational training skills such as construction and carpentry. The aim is to

help Rwandans gain skills for formal employment. In return, Itorero graduates are required to

provide free public service during ingando activities in areas such as construction of roads, bridges

and health facilities. President Kagame has insisted that the program is intended to help citizens

acquire skills necessary for nation-building. Speaking at the closure of 2018 Itorero at the National

Defence Force Combat Training Centre in Gabiro, Kagame noted:

944 See, for example, Rwanda Ministry of Local Government 2016 ‘Mechanisms for Participation and Accountability at Community and Decentralized Levels in Rwanda’ Available: http://rwandapedia.rw/cmis/views/workspace%253A%252F%252FSpacesStore%252Fc90172e1-c111-4eaa-8075-66d3f47f26b4 (Accessed March 17, 2018) 945 Rusagara, F. (2006) ‘NURC: The Facilitator to Participatory Conflict Management’, The New Times (Kigali), 1March. 946 Kabeera, E. (2011) ‘Itorero to Extend to Village Level’, The New Times, Kigali, 21 January 947 Rusagara. F. (2006). Ibid.

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The training you received to work together in harmony was not only about

military drills, but it is also about your daily tasks and your mindset. You see the

good and the bad in different places where you live. We want you to take the

good and use it to build yourself and your nation. Learn from the bad to protect

yourself and your country from it. 948

While the government insists the program is intended to invest in its citizens skills that they can

use to become useful members of the society, a critical view of this approach suggests that many

of the participants are exploited by local government authorities who force them to provide free

labour on various government projects.949

The most controversial aspect of these programs is how the government compels citizens into

compliance. Military intelligence and police officers use clandestine coercion and intimidation

tactics against civilians who fail to participate in ingando, itorero and umuganda.950 The regime

carefully portrays mass participation in these activities by citizens and genocide suspects951 as a

sign of legitimacy.952 However, underneath this so-called massive participation is a general

perception among Rwandans that the state’s vast intelligence apparatus will identify those who

refuse to comply and punish them and recent reports point to participants escaping from camps.953

The Military and Elections in Rwanda

In contrast to Uganda where the military is actively involved in partisan politics, the role of

Rwandan army in elections remains quite elusive. Despite the undemocratic character of

Museveni’s regime, the political space in Uganda is somewhat open for political participation and

contestations by various civic groups. As a result, the ruling regime in Uganda is faced with

constant political threats from its opponents and often resorts to the use of the military to curtail

activities of its opponents.

948 President Kageme speech on August 5, 2018 at closure of Itorero at the Rwanda Defence Force Combat Training Centre in Gabiro. Available online: http://paulkagame.com/?p=13199 (Accessed March 29, 2018) 949 Reynjens (2010). Ibid. 950 Interview with a senior member of Rwandan opposition FDU party who preferred to remain anonymous 951 Agence France Presse (AFP) (2003) ‘Thousands of Rwandan Genocide Suspects Set for Reeducation’,Agence France Presse, January 27. 952 Xinhua News Agency. (1998) ‘Former Rwandan Soldiers in Political Training’, Xinhua News Agency, February 18. 953 Xinhua News Agency. (2004) ‘Nearly 500 Ex-Genocide Prisoners Escape Solidarity Camps in Rwanda’, Xinhua News Agency, April 23.

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In Rwanda, however, the political space is tightly controlled by the regime– leaving little to no

space for dissenting voices – whether in politics, the media or civil society. The military

intelligence apparatus works covertly to screen political participants, including those in the

opposition under the guise of fighting against “divisionism” and “genocide ideology”.954 What this

does however is to limit political space and to allow only candidates with positive views about the

regime to engage in politics. As one interviewee puts it:

“You cannot compete in an election unless you have been vetted by the

intelligence. Our political system is different from those of other countries.

Because of our history, even those in the opposition have to be vetted. It is a

requirement for those seeking top national and local council positions to go

through a screening process.”955

Though conducted covertly, the military’s role in screening all candidates for political

positions is sometimes acknowledged by retired military officers who routinely try to

justify it. They argue that, given the role of divisive politicians in fueling the 1994

Rwandan genocide, it is important to screen individuals seeking political position to

ensure that they do not use their positions to promote genocide ideology. As one senior

military officer explains:

You don’t want to have genociders occupying positions of power and dividing

our people again. We have learned from our history that it is necessary to stop

people with such mentality from gaining positions of power, which they can

exploit to divide our people again.956

Even in situation where regime opponents are arrested and detained, the military’s hand is rarely

seen. Instead, it is the police that is at the forefront of executing such orders. During the 2010

elections, Victoire Ingabire, president of the opposition party United Democratic Forces (FDU-

Inkingi) was arrested after her return from exile and charged with terrorism and genocide ideology,

954 Zorbas, Eugenia (2004) “Reconciliation in Post-Genocide Rwanda.” African Journal of Legal Studies (Online), 1(1), 29. 955 Interview with a Rwanda government officer. Ibid. 956 Interview with Col. Rutaremara. ibid.

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charges her party insisted are politically motivated.957 In 2019, Diana Rwigara, a leading critic of

Kagame who expressed intention to contest for the presidency was arrested and charged with

alleged crimes against state security. A few days later, her supporters were also arrested, with the

state accusing them of planning to form a rebellion against the government.958

The decision by Rwanda to limit the political space through restricting political participation,

freedoms of association and assembly has had a chilling effect on the county’s democratic

progress. The country now lacks a legitimate opposition party to challenge the dominant power of

the RPF. Many critics of Kagame have to censor themselves as they are forced to think twice

before openly expressing their views. President Kagame has himself expressed disdain for

legitimate opposition, emphasizing that it was not his “job to create opposition parties”959

While opposition groups are harassed, and their freedom to assemble and peacefully organize is

restricted in both Uganda and Rwanda, there is a difference in the way anti-opposition strategies

are executed in both countries as well as the kind of state actors that carry out such strategies. For

example, in Rwanda arrests are mainly conducted by the police, which is different from Uganda

where military officers routinely engage in the arrest and detention of Museveni’s opponents. This

is not to imply that the Rwandan military is not involved in opposition crackdown, rather its role

is more covert than overt. For example, when Diane Rwigara, a 35-year-old businesswoman

announced that she would challenge Kagame during the 2017 presidential election, she woke up

to nude photos of herself spreading like hot cakes on social media.960 She blamed the country’s

military intelligence and RPF of hacking her phone and creating ‘fake nude photos’ of her in order

to silence her and delegitimize her candidature961 More so, various human rights groups and

957 Amnesty International report (2017) Available online: https://www.amnesty.org/en/latest/campaigns/2017/08/rwandas-repressive-tactics-silence-dissent-before-elections/( Accessed April 3, 2019) 958 Reuters (2017) “Rwanda arrests supporters of Jailed Opposition Figure” (September 6) Available online: https://www.reuters.com/article/us-rwanda-security/rwanda-arrests-supporters-of-jailed-opposition-figure-idUSKCN1BH2T0 (Accessed April 3, 2019) 959 Amnesty International report (2017) Available online: https://www.amnesty.org/en/latest/campaigns/2017/08/rwandas-repressive-tactics-silence-dissent-before-elections/( Accessed April 3, 2019) 960 All Africa.com (13 May 2017) “Nude Photo Leak Shock for Rwanda's Woman Presidential Candidate” available online: https://allafrica.com/view/group/main/main/id/00051666.html Accessed April 3, 2019) 961 CNN (August 5, 2017) “Fake nude photos were used to 'silence me', disqualified Rwandan candidate says” Available online: https://www.cnn.com/2017/08/04/africa/rwanda-election-nude-photos-candidate/index.html (Accessed April 3, 2019)

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Rwandan exiles have accused Rwanda military intelligence of conducting attacks or assassination

of dissidents opposed to Kagame–including those living outside Rwanda.962

Conclusion

What do we learn from Rwanda’s attempt to re-engineer a new post-genocide socio-political order

and what is the role of the military and civilian politicians in this process? The first part of this

chapter has shown how, after successfully sabotaging the civilian-led coalition government,

leading to its eventual collapse in 2000, the RPF regime placed the army at the forefront of

developing and formulating nationalistic programs designed to encourage nationalism among

Rwandans and to generate obedience to authorities. It is evident that the focus of programs such

as ingando, Itorero and umuganda is on two things: First, they seek to animate a moral relationship

between individuals. Here, the regime sees social re-construction as a foundation for the

governance of civil domains in a new post-genocide society. The idea is to identify and highlight

‘values’ that Rwandans and their government share in common which, in turn, help authorities to

shape individual conduct and ensure that state power is extended and consolidated. It is these

‘values’ that are then promoted as a source of mutual connections and a basis for configuring the

desires, habits, aspirations and beliefs of Rwandans. Second, while Rwanda is a nation of people

with diverse historical backgrounds, what Rwandan authorities seek to do is reshape social

structures with the aim of reorganizing the post-genocide society based on shared historical and

cultural connections. This explains why during ingando and umuganda activities the emphasis is

on re-educating Rwandans regarding their history, cultural heritage and social values. In re-

educational camps, participants are taken through training in social values, nationalism and

patriotism to help them discover how they are mutually connected to each other as a people.

Through communal events, Rwandan authorities believe that they can engineer social friendships

that could deepen citizens' concern for the well-being of each other in a society where neighbors

killed neighbors during the 1994 genocide. The chapter has also shown that, while the government

argues that the aim of nationalist programs is to promote civic education and social consciousness,

these programs have been exploited by the army to ideologically and socio-politically engrain

certain ideals meant to consolidate the army’s domination of post-genocide Rwandan society.

962 The Global and Mail (May 2, 2014) “ Assassination in Africa: Inside the plots to kill Rwanda’s dissidents” (March 4) Available online: https://www.theglobeandmail.com/news/world/secret-recording-says-former-rwandan-army-major-proves-government-hires-assassins-to-kill-critics-abroad/article18396349 (Accessed April 3, 2019)

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Chapter Nine

Conclusion and Policy Implications

This dissertation has explored the dilemmas of rebuilding states and societies after civil war and

addressed some of the most pressing questions confronting post-war societies in the global south

today. The dissertation has mapped out the convergence of military and elite interests in the process

of post-conflict state reconstruction in both post-genocide Rwanda and postwar Uganda. It has

presented two distictive cases of post-conflict state reconstruction and regime formation.

The first is a civil-authoritarian regime witnessed in postwar countries such as Uganda where

the Museveni regime took over the state that already had a “residue” social structure constituted

by powerful social groups with well-defined interests. Museveni’s regime developed a strategy

involving cooptation of, collaboration with, and concessions to these interests, which led to the

creation of a broad-based system of government designed purposely to accommodate the varying

interests of these groups. Thus, in certain postwar societies where the “residue” social structure

survived violence, it played a significant role in the re-configuration of the postwar state and

regime dynamics. In Uganda, due to the influence of the “residue” social structure, the character

of the postwar regime is neither completely authoritarian nor thoroughly democratic; rather, the

regime embodies both democratic and authoritarian traits. While military repression remains the

hallmark of the ruling regime in Uganda, in some instances the regime leader is constrained by the

power of the “residue” social structure and is forced to make policy concessions to accommodate

the interests of these groups.

The second is a military authoritarian regime witnessed in post-conflict societies such as

Rwanda where President Kagame’s RPF/A guerrilla group inherited a political structure that was

completely shattered--without much “residue”. This political vacuum gave space to the RPF

guerrilla group to construct a coercive and much more authoritarian governance system without

facing constraints from organized social groups because these groups did not exist in the post

genocide era. Even where social groups such as churches did exist, they did not command any

political significance or influence similar to their counterparts in Uganda. Consequently, the armed

elites within RPF were able to exploit this power vacuum to transform what had been a guerrilla

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group into a strong and centralized military regime, purveying to the country and the outside world

a strong military as the foundation for fighting against genocide.

In terms of policy and theoretical value, the dissertation makes contributions in important ways:

first, the mixed record of post-conflict reconstruction points to the need to understand the

predicaments confronting state-builders who are faced with the task of designing institutions to

end violence and of creating a framework for postwar state governance. Within academia, there is

insufficient systematic analysis addressing the contradictions, tensions and dilemmas of

constructing legitimate and effective postwar state and regimes. Generally, scholars in the fields

of peace and state building have neglected three important issues. First, the question of why

postwar state-builders adopt different strategies for state reconstruction after a civil war has not

been well-explored and answered. Second, scholars have generally not paid sufficient attention to

the ways in which the military is deployed in the aftermath of state failure by a regime that seeks

to reconstruct the postwar state and to consolidate its own place at the helm of that state. Third,

the independent role of the domestic “residue” social structure in shaping the configurations of

postwar political system is largely under-theorized. Yet, as I have shown, in countries such as

Uganda and Rwanda, the re-building of social, economic and political systems after a prolonged

period of violence was heavily influenced by either the presence or absence of what I call a

“residue” social structure. For example, post-genocide Rwanda did not have a “residue” social

structure because genocide precipitated a complete breakdown of political order as the country

experienced a level of destruction never seen in Africa’s postcolonial history. There was no

“residue” social structure left to counterbalance the RPF because Rwanda’s economic class,

religious groups, political elites and the monarch either fled the country or were killed in the

violence that characterized the 1994 genocide. The RPF exploited this vacuum to create a military-

authoritarian regime.

This dissertation has also brought to the forefront a number of significant insights: first, it has

shown that existing approaches to understanding post-conflict state reconstruction and regime

legitimation remain inadequate when applied to Africa’s postwar state development. To bridge

this gap, it has presented two model for understanding the post-conflict African state, models that

are fundamentally rooted in understanding the effect and influence of a “residue” social structure

in the reconstruction of the postwar African state. Second, the findings of this research have a

broader implication for the military and politics in societies recovering from prolonged episodes

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of civil wars and other forms of political violence. Indeed, we have seen situations in African

countries where, after a long period of regime hegemony, the military becomes engrossed in the

political process. In these situations, the military becomes an important actor during the transition

period through either installing a president who can protect its interests or through undermining a

civilian president when armed elites feel that their interests are threatened. In Egypt, for example,

following a 2011 revolution that overthrew Hosni Mubarak, Mohamed Morsi became the first

democratically elected president only to be overthrown and his party crushed by military. This

effectively placed Egypt under a military regime. In Zimbabwe, the military staged a coup in 2017

that led to the overthrow of President Mugabe, yet this did not lead to a democratic transition. It

instead resulted in the installation of Mugabe’s former Vice-President Emerson Mnangagwa as

President. The Defence Forces Commander Constatino Chiwenga, who had led the military coup,

became the county’s vice president. This was considered a “managed coup” that was meant to

maintain and guarantee economic and political privileges of the military and powerful social

groups that supported the coup. In many ways, the situation in Zimbabwe is similar to Uganda––

both Mugabe and Museveni’s regime tolerated limited internal dissent and some form of political

contestation. But this is done to a certain degree and it is well-managed to ensure that it doesn’t

turn into a rebellion or threaten regime hegemony, or else repression will follow quickly and

without mercy.

The political strategies of postwar regimes in Uganda and Rwanda have been examined throughout

the dissertation. For instance, whereas the Ugandan guerrilla group won a decisive military victory,

it developed a strategy of political accommodation and did not alienate pre-existing social groups

who needed to be accommodated in the postwar political dispensation. The postwar Ugandan state

already had well entrenched social groups–– representing a wide range of political, economic,

religious and monarchical interests. More often than not, these interests formed a basis for political

mobilization manifested in how these groups either opposed or supported different political parties.

To achieve the much-needed political stability, NRA leaders developed a strategy of co-opting and

forging alliances with these groups. This was a strategic decision by the NRA as it contributed to

President Museveni achieving his mission of creating a regime hegemony. The failure of previous

regimes such as Obote and Amin’s regime to accommodate the interests of these groups had

plunged the country into chaos, leading to the downfall of their regimes. For instance, it was the

conflict between the king of Buganda and the Obote government that compelled the Baganda to

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mobilize against Obote’s regime, leading to its political demise. When Obote was confronted by

powerful interests of entrenched social groups such as kingdoms, he took an imprudent decision

to outlaw kingdoms. As a result, various armed groups like FEDEMU and UFM were formed by

Baganda monarchists to fight for the restoration of the kingdom. It is these same groups that were

later co-opted by the NRA to marshal a formidable armed force to fight for the liberation of

Uganda.

The role of the military in postwar regime stability and legitimation is another element examined

throughout the dissertation. In Uganda’s case, when President Museveni came to power, he

promised to deepen political participation as a foundation for postwar democratization. Yet he has

relied heavily on the military to stifle democracy and to compel political consent. The increasing

boldness of the military in partisan politics has thrown the country’s political future into

uncertainty as the army could get out of control in the event the aging Museveni goes absent or

dies. Many people interviewed for this research expressed fears that the Special Force Command

consistently behaves like Museveni’s personal army and could forcefully install Museveni’s son

into power, who is widely unpopular both within the army and within the public. If forcefully

installed, it could be a risky move that may herald a period of chaos and bloodshed. The situation

in Uganda is in stark contrast to Rwanda where the military is in full control with no room for

political contestation. Unlike in Uganda where the public and other institutionalized interests could

play a central role in political transition, Rwanda’s remains a system tightly controlled by the army.

Many political observers interviewed for this research emphasized that any transition from one

leader to another in Rwanda will most likely be a “managed transition” in which armed elites

instates a president of their choice–i.e., one who can preserve political and economic privileges

enjoyed by the army.

History tells us that both Uganda and Rwanda are prone to violence during political transition

periods. For example, Uganda has never witnessed a peaceful transfer of power from one president

to another since it gained independence in 1962. All previous transition periods in Uganda have

been violent with coups and mutinies at the center stage. Judging from the account of Gen. Sejusa

(see chapter 5), the regime needs to proceed carefully because the debate over political transition

from Museveni’s rule is already generating concern among political and military elites. In the

event of political turmoil, the “residue” social structure could withdraw its support for the regime

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because the various groups that constitute the “residue” social structure are first and foremost

interested in maintaining their own economic privileges–– whether or not Museveni is in power.

In fact, a number of retired army officers have expressed their opposition to any maneuvers to

replace Museveni with any of his relatives or an appointed regime insider. They are quick to

remind the President publicly that Uganda is not a monarchy.963 Thus, unpredictable events could

still shape the post-Museveni trajectory.

The extensive role of the military in politics is another aspect that has been explored in this

dissertation. In Rwanda, RPF military elites employed several strategies to sabotage the civilian

government, leading to the resignation of President Pasteur Bizimungu, which facilitated the

takeover of power by General Kagame. With Kagame fully in charge of the state, the socio-

economic and political transformation of Rwanda took an authoritarian path. The RPF ended up

introducing policies designed to gain acceptance and facilitate military domination of every aspect

of the Rwandan society. In Uganda’s case, Museveni has consistently deployed the military to

contain anti-regime protests. Museveni understands that the presence of the military spreads fear

among the population given Uganda’s history of military brutality. It is this fear that prevents

people from mobilizing against the regime. There is a fear within the Ugandan public to mobilize

large-scale protest against the regime, well knowing that the response from the military will be

instantaneously brutal.

The role of the military in political mobilization is another aspect well examined throughout the

dissertation. While in Rwanda the military role in political mobilization remains surreptitious, the

Ugandan military openly engages in partisan politics––sometimes publicly campaigning for

President Museveni. This affects both professionalism as well as the public image of the army as

a non-partisan force. The Ugandan army intervention in politics is to some extent driven by the

fear that in the event of regime change, the military could lose most of its wealth, which has been

acquired through corruption and pillage. It should be noted that, when the NRA came to power,

Museveni promised to create a professional military force that would form a foundation for

Uganda’s socio-economic reconstruction, yet the military in Uganda remains one of the most

corrupt institutions that is used for regime survival purposes. The intervention in Congo and the

963 See RedPepper (January 25, 2015) “Ugandan Presidency does not Belong to Museveni-Kahinda Otafiire” Available online: http://www.redpepper.co.ug/ugandas-presidency-does-not-belong-to-museveni-kahinda-otafiire/ (Accessed March 12, 2019)

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government’s failure to prosecute corrupt military generals demonstrates Museveni’s use of

corruption as an instrument for political control. Museveni understands that army officers who

have been implicated in corruption practices will remain loyal to him because that is the only way

they can evade criminal prosecution. In other words, it can be said that Museveni deliberately

ignores military officers who engage in shady business practices because, in the end, it enables

him to collect and store incriminating evidence that could be useful to the regime against army

officers who turn critical of the regime. The generals that have fallen out with the regime (e.g.,

Kazini, Sejusa and Tumukunde) are quickly arraigned before court and charged with crimes they

committed many years ago while serving the regime. Other retired army generals cannot dare

criticize the regime because of the fear of vengeance from the regime leader.

A large number of senior army officials have a subjective interest in the prolonged stay in power

of the Museveni regime because UPDF deployments in war situations have generated

opportunities for military officers to engage in corruption and plunder with impunity. These self-

serving economic activities have been successful because they are intricately linked to state

structure -- that is, a network comprising senior military officers, political elites and businessmen

who run the state, with Museveni at its helm. In some cases, the army is just part of a network of

exchange. This network is crucial in facilitating lucrative trade in minerals like gold, diamond and

materials such as timber and coffee. While some authors have argued that these predatory networks

could undermine state authority as well as pose a destabilizing effect on the regime, Uganda’s

experience shows that their impact on the regime remains unclear. The regime in Uganda has

remained relatively stable, despite serious cases of economic plunder.

In Rwanda’s case, the skillful transformation of the Rwandan Patriotic Front/Army from a bush-

war guerrilla outfit into a ruling regime, as well as its struggle to transform a guerrilla-like political

movement into a governing party in Rwanda, has been explored. This dissertation has showed how

this transformation was dexterously managed by RPF military elites. The RPF ended up

introducing policies designed to re-engineer ethnic identities in the post-genocide society. The

dissertation has explained how postwar political power in Rwanda is concentrated within a small

cleavage of top military elites; majority of whom were former Tutsi refugees led by current

President Kagame. After successfully sabotaging the civilian-led coalition government, leading to

its eventual collapse in 2000, the RPF regime placed the army at the forefront of developing and

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formulating nationalistic programs designed to nurture nationalism among Rwandans and to

generate obedience to state authorities. Moreover, the complex legacies of the 1994 Rwandan

genocide have been well-exploited by the RPF to justify its authoritarian character. The RPF

regime has introduced several repressive laws and the army often engages in extra-constitutional

actions that it claims are intended to prevent serious crimes. Through this kind of Orwellian

control, some say, killers and victims of yesterday’s massacres could live together in peace and

harmony, with the military as the ultimate provider of security for all. A critical view suggests a

deliberate strategy by RPF elites to exploit these social complexities to justify its domination of

political and economic power. Further, this dissertation has explained that the focus of programs

such as ingando, Itorero and umuganda is on two things: first, the regime sees social re-

construction as a foundation for the governance of civilian domains in a new post-genocide society.

Second, the regime sees a need to reshape social structures with the aim of reorganizing the post-

genocide society based on shared historical and cultural relations.

What is also clear is that the legitimacy of post-conflict regimes is fundamentally rooted in the

previous war experiences. This is very important for understanding the nature of the state in

Uganda and Rwanda, especially for understanding why the Museveni and Kagame regimes are

preoccupied with creating a strong military institution as a means to (re-)build the state. Initially,

both regimes struggled to impose a monopoly on the use of force within their territories. They

emerged initially as successful guerrilla groups and had to defeat first, the incumbent regimes and

then, fragments of other insurgencies in the struggle for legitimate exercise of coercive force. In

both Uganda and Rwanda, postwar leaders succeeded in defeating external enemies, disarming

domestic rivals (like warlords, militias) and concentrating coercive power in the (new) ruler’s

hands. Moreover, they have both registered varying degrees of success in the rebuilding of state

apparatuses (including the bureaucracies needed for tax extraction, protection of property rights

and capital accumulation, in turn necessary to ensure adequate resources to finance state-building).

Yet still the ongoing violence in the Greats Lakes region, where the two countries are located, has

served to justify the need for a strong military to neutralize external and internal threats. For these

regimes, state-making means building institutional capacity for policing, surveillance and

coercion. Both regimes understand a strong state to require a strong military. And both, to varying

degrees, employ violence both legitimately (to curtail external threats) and illegitimately (to violate

the rights of their citizens).

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Insights of this dissertation contribute to our understanding of the nature of the state and

violence in Uganda and Rwanda. First, the citizens’ fear of the consequences of state failure has

become a basis for both Museveni and Kagame to justify limitations on individual freedoms. In

both countries, citizens are often reminded of the anarchy that threatened them under previous

regimes, leading to genocide in Rwanda and costly civil war in Uganda. Second, fear of insecurity

is driving both regimes to invest vast amounts of resources in building the military. The idea is

that a strong military is necessary to mitigate anarchy and that restriction on citizens’ freedoms is

justifiable if it prevents these societies from descending into chaos. Again, we are pointed towards

the centrality of the military but not merely as an instrument of coercion but also as a potentially

legitimizing source of stability and order.

While the military is often effectively fused with the regime in power (i.e. there is no clear

distinction between the interests of the military and the regime’s interests), nonetheless the two

regimes employ the military differently for their survival and legitimation. The military in Uganda

is a personalized institution whose vision is to ensure survival of the incumbent, Yoweri Museveni.

In Rwanda the military is a more complex institution designed to outlast the leadership of one man

and to ensure instead the long-term survival of the RPF regime and proect the society from

genocide. Thus, two observations are critical: First, in their attempt to answer challenges of

domesticating violence and state-building in a divided society, post-genocide Rwanda and postwar

Ugannda created strong military institutions with dual roles: On the one hand, each regime sought

to build a military with the well-developed features of a professional institution (a strong emphasis

on officership, discipline, security and community service). On the other hand, the regimes have

also allowed the military to retain a repressive character as evidenced by their domestic political

influence and interventions in neighboring countries. Second, after state failure had generated

violent conflicts in both countries, both military institutions were transformed in response to the

prevailing circumstances. Fusing the military and the ruling regime emerged as a new model of

order-making in these societies, justified by the political leadership as necessary for maintaining

peace and stability.

In a nutshell, the dissertation has addressed the critical role of the military in societies emerging

from civil war status. While many non-governmental organizations and international development

experts frequently express concerns about the consequences of state failure, it has not been

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matched by attempts to understand the role of the military in subsequent state-rebuilding and

regime legitimation as well as the role played by the “residue” social structure in such processes.

The concerns of policy makers in Africa’s post-conflict societies have largely focused on both the

management of violence and the legitimacy of the ruling regimes. In order to address such

concerns, we need to focus on how President Museveni of Uganda and President Kagame of

Rwanda have approached post-conflict state reconstruction. The challenges faced by Rwanda and

Uganda centered on how to domesticate violence and how to establish legitimate authority––

difficult tasks in fractious and unstable societies. Both Museveni and Kagame’s regimes turned to

what was readily at hand: creating strong and effective military institutions out of the guerilla

outfits that had long wielded coercive capacity. In both cases, the military, the most powerful

institution in each society where both leaders commanded unfettered loyalty, was deliberately built

up as an instrument for social domination and political control. Both regimes allowed the military

to retain a repressive character but also transformed their armies in response to the prevailing

security circumstances. In Rwanda, for example, fusing the military, the state and the ruling

regime was seen as the most appropriate approach for order-making in the post-genocide era.

Although the military in Uganda and Rwanda share similar characteristics, there are some

fundamental differences between the two armies. In Rwanda, for example, the military has a more

expansive role compared to Ugandan. The Rwandan army sees itself as an active player in the

broader socio-economic and political transformation of Rwandan society. The Rwandan military

is highly visible in the broader society life as soldiers and officers champion umuganda, a monthly

national program in which Rwandans participate in communal activities, and ingando and itorero,

all aimed at creating consciousness among Rwandans about genocide history and the value of good

citizenship. In contrast, the military in Uganda is not involved in any form of national mobilization.

The Ugandan military is neither involved in any meaningful economic activity nor does it see itself

as a champion of Uganda’s socio-economic transformation—beyond protecting the incumbent and

its own economic interests. In fact, the UPDF runs only one national activity each year and this is

often poorly organized and poorly attended. This activity is called Tarehe sita and is organized to

celebrate the day Museveni’s NRA guerrilla conducted its first armed attack on a government

garrison in 1981. Moreover, the UPDF is not regularly seen in public except during political

protests when it is summoned to suppress protests against Museveni’s rule.

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Finally, it is clear from the two cases that citizens’ fear of the consequences of state failure has

become a basis for both Museveni and Kagame to build their undemocratic regimes. In both

countries, citizens are often reminded of the anarchy they faced under previous regimes, leading

to genocide in Rwanda and a civil war in Uganda. The fear of insecurity is driving both regimes

to invest resources in building the military. The idea is that a strong military is necessary to mitigate

anarchy and that restriction on citizens’ freedom is justifiable if it prevents these fractious societies

from descending into violence. This again points towards the centrality of the military, not merely

as an instrument of coercion but also as a potentially legitimizing source of social order. In essence,

the tragedy facing post-colonial African states is not simply the illegitimacy of the ruling

authorities but also the politically fractured nature of the environment within which the military

operates and of which it is a part.

Broad Implications of this Research Postwar statebuilding requires a multidimensional approach, involving multiple interventions

aimed at generating socioeconomic and political development in postwar societies. Even where

hostilities have formally ended, such societies may continue to experience relentless breakdown

of law and order, which is exacerbated by the large number of small arms in circulation.964

Academics and practitioners correctly emphasise the building of the state’s capacity to deal with

high levels of armed violence, which in turn makes establishing state institutions such as police,

national armies, parliament, local administration and the judiciary a key priority.965 For without a

functioning and legitimate state, post-conflict societies are more likely to end up in a ‘conflict

trap’.966

With varying degrees of success, Western donor countries and international organizations such as

the United Nations and the African Union have conducted complex postwar reconstruction

missions967 in countries such as the Democratic Republic of Congo, Namibia, El Salvador,

Somalia, Mozambique, Sudan, Haiti, Bosnia, Kosovo, Afghanistan, Iraq, Rwanda, Uganda,

964 Kumar, Suneel. “small arms and light weapons: a global threat to human security and development.” The Indian Journal of Political Science, vol. 69, no. 4, 2008, pp. 787–800. 965 Blair, Harry, 2007. ‘Rebuilding and Reforming Civil Services in Post-Conflict Societies’. In Governance in Post-Conflict Societies: Rebuilding Fragile States, ed. Derick W. Brinkerhoff. Routledge, London, 161–184. 966 Cord Schmelzle, Eric Stollenwerk. (2018) Virtuous or Vicious Circle? Governance Effectiveness and Legitimacy in Areas of Limited Statehood. Journal of Intervention and Statebuilding 12:4, pages 449-467. 967 Armstrong, Andrea and Barnett Rubin, 2005. ‘The Great Lakes and South-Central Asia’. In Making States Work: State Failure and the Crisis of Governance, eds. Simon Chesterman, Michael Ignatieff and RameshThakur. United Nations University Press, New York, 79–101

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Burundi, Cambodia and Namibia. Their work is supplemented by a range of local actors, working

on various aspects of reconstruction.968 The core areas of engagement include stabilization and

security, governance and political participation, socio-economic empowerment, micro-level

conflict transformation and community peace initiatives. Likewise, international financial

institutions such as the World Bank and IMF support post-conflict interventions in such areas as

infrastructure, energy sector, public sector reform and other economic support initiatives.969 Such

interventions are intended to build the microeconomic foundations of conflict-torn societies.

However, despite local, national and global efforts, the outcome of post-conflict reconstruction

has remained uncertain, particularly when it comes to establishing state institutions in post-conflict

environments.970 Countries such as Burundi, Sierra Leone and South Sudan have experienced

conflict relapse triggered by failed reconstruction interventions. Other post-conflict African

countries still face deep-rooted problems ranging from group marginalization, economic

stagnation, high poverty levels, political tensions and spasmodic violence. For examples, Sierra

Leone experienced violence following its first post-transition elections in 2007.971 In Uganda, the

Lord’s Resistance Army (LRA) rebels staged an armed resistance in the northern parts of the

country that lasted for over two decades.972 In Sudan, while the warring parties reached a peace

agreement in 2005, the country remained in crisis following the outbreak of a new insurgence in

Darfur in 2003. In South Sudan, a new civil war broke out after a short period of peace that

heralded the successful separation of South Sudan from Sudan. In the Democratic Republic of

Congo (DRC), the UN and other international organizations have been unable to prevent ongoing

violence despite the UN operating the world’s largest state reconstruction mission, consisting of

17,400 peacekeepers.973 UN troops have been accused of failure to prevent the post-election

968 Bozzoli, C., & Brück, T. (2009). Agriculture, Poverty, and Postwar Reconstruction: Micro-Level Evidence from Northern Mozambique. Journal of Peace Research, 46(3), 377–397. 969 Englebert, Pierre, and Denis M. Tull. “Postconflict Reconstruction in Africa: Flawed Ideas about Failed States.” International Security, vol. 32, no. 4, 2008, pp. 106–1 970 Serge Michailof, (2000) “The Challenge of Reconstructing "Failed" States” Field Actions Science Reports, Commentaries, Online since 23 December 2000. 971 Allouche, J., ‘Politics, exit strategy and political settlement in Sierra Leone: a critical analysis of a laboratory experiment (1991–2015)’, Conflict, Security and Development 17, no.3 (2017): 225–46. 972 CAKAJ, L., “The Lord’s Resistance Army of Today”, Washington, DC, Enough Project, November 1, 2010, http://www.enoughproject.org/files/lra_today.pdf. 973 AUTESSERRE, S., “Dangerous tales: dominant narratives on the Congo and their unintended consequences”, African Affairs, 2012, pp. 202-222.

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conflict of 2006 and of reluctance to stamp out violence in the eastern region.974 Even previous

success stories such as Mozambique, Burundi, Liberia, Cameroon and Chad remain weak states.

While a majority of conflict-affected states are in Africa, such reconstruction problems are not

however limited to Africa. The record the world over is at best mixed. Indeed, countries like

Afghanistan, Iraq, Pakistan, Indonesia, Sri-Lanka, Nicaragua, Guatemala and El Salvador are

contending with fundamental challenges of transforming their war-weakened states.

Students of postwar state reconstruction in Africa tend to focus on what western donor

countries and external humanitarian organizations have done or should do. This underplays the

contributions of domestic actors, especially the influence of the “residue” social structure in the

reconstruction of these states. I believe that post-conflict state reconstruction cannot be understood

without accounting for the influence of domestic structures and without accounting for the

decisions of African state-builders in the process. The nature of the interactions between state

actors, the “residue” social structure and military elites in postwar state-reconstruction is crucial

in the broad analysis of state-building process. I have argued that the dynamics of this interaction

significantly impact the outcomes of the state reconstruction process. This dissertation has shown

how endogenous actors and structures are crucial in the shaping of the postwar state reconstruction

process. For instance, the influence of political actors is noticeable through decision-making and

through the formulation and implementation of postwar institutional reforms while the influence

of the “residue” social structure is noticeable in the manner in which organized social groups such

as kingdoms, religious groups, landed elites and the mercantile class veto government decisions

and constrain actions of post-conflict leaders.

The End

974 Berdal, Mats (2018) “The state of UN peacekeeping: Lessons from congo.” Journal of Strategic Studies, 41(5), 721-750