{UAH} The General Challenges the DictatorHelen EpsteinApril 24, 2014

Uganda: The General Challenges the DictatorHelen EpsteinApril 24, 2014 Issue

In the early 1990s, President Bill Clinton, concerned about the
specter of militant Islam in Africa, secured military alliances with a
number of African strongmen, among them Uganda's President Yoweri
Museveni.1 Since then, human rights groups have accused Museveni, now
in his twenty-eighth year in power, of widespread corruption and
political repression. I've been working as a public health consultant
on and off in Uganda for twenty years, a period when development
agencies such as the World Bank and the US Agency for International
Development (USAID) spent $20 billion on aid projects in the country.
I'd looked on with dismay as the budgets of many of these projects
were looted, elections were rigged, and innocent people who tried to
draw attention to this were intimidated or worse. Museveni, now
sixty-nine, has long been an important US ally in the war on
terror—his troops have been deployed on America's side in Somalia,
Sudan, Afghanistan, and Iraq—so the money kept flowing anyway.2

Yoweri Museveni; drawing by James Ferguson In fact, Museveni has made
Africa even more dangerous. Uganda backed the Rwandan rebels whose
invasions in 1990 and 1994 set off the genocide in that country.3
Uganda's troops then looted some $10 billion worth of timber, elephant
tusks, gold, and other minerals from the Democratic Republic of the
Congo,4 and Ugandan-backed militias have raped and killed countless
villagers there.5 Uganda's army has taken sides in the current civil
war in South Sudan, a move that could spark a wider regional
conflict.6 Ugandan officers in the US-supported African Union Mission
in Somalia have even been caught selling guns to the terrorist group
al-Shabab.7

Meanwhile, even as US officials made lofty pledges to support African
democracy,8 Museveni used looted development funds to close off nearly
every peaceful means of loosening his grip on power. That's why I
found the mysterious death of Cerinah Nebanda, a Ugandan member of
Parliament whose case I wrote about in the last issue of this
magazine, so disturbing.9 The Ugandan police and prosecutors claim
that she died from a drug overdose, but her family and colleagues in
Parliament strongly believe that she was poisoned by government
agents. Though only twenty-four years old, Nebanda had been a fearless
critic of the corruption and cruelty of Museveni's government.
Understanding what had happened to her and why, I felt, could shed
light on why this country, and perhaps the entire region, is on such a
troubled course.

The person most likely to know about Nebanda's case was General David
Sejusa, until recently a senior adviser to Museveni and coordinator of
Uganda's two main spy agencies—its FBI and CIA. He'd been a commander
in the National Resistance Army that brought Museveni to power in 1986
and had held senior positions in the army and government ever since.
As intelligence coordinator, he had been responsible for defending
many government abuses, including media crackdowns and a military raid
on the High Court in 2005. However, he'd also quarreled with Museveni
on numerous occasions and had tried to quit the military. In May 2013
he fled to Britain after learning, he says, that he and other senior
officers who opposed Museveni's secret plan to install his
thirty-nine-year-old son as his successor were slated for
assassination. Then, a few months after arriving in the UK, he told a
Ugandan journalist that Cerinah Nebanda and many other prominent
Ugandans had been murdered "from orders on high."10 I was therefore
eager to talk to him.

I first met General Sejusa in October 2013. On the morning of our
appointment, I received a text message instructing me to go to a chain
restaurant in a compound of office buildings on the outskirts of a
British university town. The enigmatic general has a reputation for
being gruff with journalists. In official photographs, he is a
stern-faced sixty-year-old with a horseshoe mustache, dressed in
military garb draped with medals; now he was wearing a bulky gray
sweater and looked like a kindly professor from the nearby university.

The story the general told me would defy belief, if much of it weren't
confirmed by contemporary news reports and interviews with other
Ugandan political observers. In 2011, he said, Uganda's struggling
democratic movement began flourishing in the atmosphere of protest
following the Arab Spring. It began when Kizza Besigye, the main
opposition presidential candidate, claimed that elections held in
February of that year had been rigged. Besigye had made the same claim
after losing the two previous elections in 2001 and 2006, and had
taken his case to the Ugandan Supreme Court each time. The court
initially decided in his favor in both cases, but according to a
senior judge involved in the second case, as well as a journalist with
sources inside the court, the opinions were reversed at the last
minute at Museveni's insistence.11

Besigye decided that going to court a third time was futile. Instead,
he organized street protests against the rising cost of living. To
finance the election-rigging, Museveni's agents had removed some $350
million from the Ugandan treasury.12 The Central Bank printed more
money to pay civil service salaries and other expenses, but inflation
soared, along with fuel and food prices, and hundreds of angry people
turned out for Besigye's marches. The government crackdown was swift
and brutal. Nine people, including a two-year-old child, were shot
dead by security forces, scores of others were injured and imprisoned,
and Besigye himself was shot in the hand and nearly blinded when a
police officer emptied a canister of pepper spray directly into his
face. No senior officers have since been prosecuted. Today, police in
riot gear surround Besigye's house and follow him everywhere he goes.
When I met him at a hotel café last summer, all the surrounding
streets were blocked by pickups full of policemen with machine guns.

But the opposition wasn't Museveni's only problem. What worried him
even more was that discontent was also growing in his own political
party, the National Resistance Movement (NRM). The 2011 elections had
brought to Parliament a group of enlightened young people like Cerinah
Nebanda who belonged to the NRM, but were just as enraged as the
opposition was about rampant corruption and the resulting
deterioration of health care and other services. They were working on
legislation to prevent Uganda's oil revenues from falling into the
hands of corrupt officials, and were trying to rehabilitate Uganda's
woefully neglected health care system by raising the miserably low
salaries of Uganda's doctors. What happened next, according to General
Sejusa, was utterly chilling.

"There was a movement of elimination," he told me. "A meeting was held
in Statehouse [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. Sejusa wasn't invited to this meeting. By then, he had been
put on what is known in Uganda as katebe, a state of powerlessness in
which officials retain their titles and salaries but are given no
tasks and don't receive official reports. Most intelligence work was
now carried out by a parallel agency directly under the control of the
Museveni family. Nevertheless, Sejusa had built up a strong personal
network during his many years in power and he soon found out what took
place at that September 2012 meeting.

According to Sejusa's sources, Museveni's relatives were furious with
the president. He had promised to deal decisively with dissent, but he
was letting them down, they said, and now Nebanda and other "rebel
MPs" were tearing the ruling NRM apart. "Nebanda was part of a
fearless emerging force," Sejusa said. They "were speaking about
things that [Museveni's family felt] shouldn't 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."

"You go and do what you think," Sejusa says Museveni told the others
at the meeting.

"Don't worry Old Man, we know what to do," one of them is said to have replied.

Before long, hit squads were organized to stage car crashes made to
look like accidents, shootings made to look like robberies, and
poisonings made to look like food poisoning, drug overdoses, and other
mishaps. In October 2012, shortly after the meeting at the president's
office, Sejusa, who was still Museveni's senior adviser and spy chief,
wrote a prophetic letter that appeared in several Ugandan newspapers
warning of "creeping lawlessness," "sickening robberies of government
money," and "murders." "The poor people of Uganda should be treated
humanely," he wrote, referring to the crackdown on the street
protests, "and should not be flogged on the streets." He named no
names, but no informed reader would have had any doubt that he was
addressing the president and his family.

Two months after Sejusa's letter warning of murders appeared, Cerinah
Nebanda was dead. Three other young outspoken MPs were also slated to
be killed, Sejusa told me. One of them, Hussein Kyanjo, was probably
poisoned but survived. The others have publicly expressed fears for
their own safety.

In the weeks after Nebanda's mysterious death in December 2012,
several NRM MPs started a petition calling for a special parliamentary
session to inquire into it. Museveni promptly ordered their arrest and
four of them spent a week in jail. The president then summoned the
Speaker of Parliament to his official residence and informed her that
the special parliamentary session would take place "over my dead
body."

After the MPs were released from jail, the president invited them to
an NRM conference on the topic of "party discipline." The MPs
threatened to boycott it, but eventually turned up and announced that
they wanted to discuss Museveni's retirement. They were soon thrown
out of the NRM.

Despite the crackdown, demands for an end to the Museveni regime grew
louder. "Are you stupid [to continue voting for the same leader that
cannot pave your road]?" one of the formerly jailed MPs asked a
cheering crowd of constituents shortly after his release.

In the midst of the battle with the MPs, an exasperated President
Museveni warned "irresponsible" political leaders that the army might
have to take over and restore order. Another letter to the media from
General Sejusa followed, urging the government to find another way to
handle the forces pushing for genuine democracy in the country.

Soon after this letter appeared in a local newspaper, one of Sejusa's
employees in the intelligence service received a call on his cell
phone from a man identifying himself as a major in the Presidential
Guard Brigade. "Where do you work?" the major asked. "In the
coordinator's office," the employee replied, referring to Sejusa,
whose official title was "Coordinator of Intelligence Services."

"You mean that enemy Sejusa? We shall kill him."

David Sejusa; drawing by James Ferguson "If by killing him, you think
you'll take away the problems"—meaning the democratization movement in
Uganda—"then you'll have to kill us all," the young man said,
according to Sejusa's account.

"You wait," said the major.

In early March 2013, a group of gunmen attacked an army barracks in
Mbuya, a suburb of Kampala, just before dawn. A soldier on guard shot
dead one of the attackers and injured several others. The matter might
have ended there, had General Sejusa not published yet another of his
letters. This one was addressed to the director of Uganda's Internal
Security Organization—its FBI—urging him to investigate the
possibility that the attack had been staged as part of what Ugandans
call the "Muhoozi Project"—President Museveni's plan to install his
son Muhoozi Kainerugaba as his successor.

Sejusa had heard that the barracks had been stormed by security guards
assembled from Saracen, a private company owned by the president's
half-brother. The plan, he was told, was to blame the "so-called coup"
on disgruntled senior army commanders, including Sejusa, who would
then be rounded up and charged with treason. Muhoozi's Special Forces
Unit—an armed division under his command—was standing by to save the
day. If the plan succeeded, Muhoozi would look like a hero and
Museveni would hand over power to him. However, the scheme was
thwarted when a sleeping soldier who was supposed to be guarding the
barracks and had not been briefed about the plan woke up and roused
others who fought off the so-called attackers.

The contents of Sejusa's letter were reported in two Ugandan
newspapers, both of which were shut down for a week by the police
immediately afterward, along with two radio stations. Some of the
reporters who wrote about the letters were arrested; others received
death threats. Sejusa was in England on government business at the
time and was preparing to fly home when he learned that a line of
tanks had been deployed along a twenty-mile stretch of road leading to
the airport where he was to land. The point of this vast deployment
was presumably to make it look as though Sejusa was a real threat,
with a rebel army standing by to stage a coup. Sejusa would later tell
Voice of America that in fact the plans were for the soldiers to
arrest him as soon as he arrived, fly him by helicopter to a prison
outside Kampala, arrange a mock attack by his supposed allies, and
then kill him in the ensuing chaos. Sejusa canceled his flight and
stayed in Britain.

Could this story be true? Government spokesmen have denied that the
regime had anything to do with Nebanda's death or Kyanjo's illness,
and claim that the Mbuya barracks attack was staged not by Muhoozi but
by lower-level officers seeking to gain attention and rewards from
their superiors. They say that Sejusa is making these stories up in
order to justify his application for political asylum in Britain. But
that claim is undermined by the government's crackdown on all
discussion of Sejusa's statements, the closing of the newspapers and
radio stations that published them, and the jailing of the MPs who
wanted to discuss Nebanda's death publicly.

In December 2013, Sejusa and about forty-five other Ugandan exiles
gathered in a classroom at the London School of Economics to launch a
movement to oust Museveni from power. They say their aim is not to
take power themselves, but to remove the Museveni regime—either by
force or by the threat of it—and then establish institutions to
oversee free and fair elections, the restoration of the rule of law,
and other freedoms that are currently suppressed in Uganda. Although
the invitation-only meeting was small, Sejusa and others told me that
the movement, known as the Freedom and Unity Front (FUF), has wide
support both among Ugandan émigrés and in Uganda's Parliament,
military, security services, and the highest ranks of Museveni's
government. Verifying this is difficult. Even mentioning the names of
FUF supporters inside Uganda would put them in obvious danger.

The launch began with the singing of the national anthem, followed by
a prayer for peace by a Ugandan princess. During a PowerPoint
presentation about the crackdown on democracy activists, a young
Ugandan woman who was apparently not on the official guest list
arrived and sat down in a middle row. A doctor was describing the
miserable state of Uganda's health services when she suddenly stood
up, pointed at General Sejusa, and began shouting "War criminal! He
committed genocide against my people!" Several men rose from the
audience and tried to throw her out.

"No, let her stay," Sejusa called out. The other men urged her to sit
down and be quiet, but she stormed out anyway.

Soon, it was Sejusa's turn to speak. "It is never too late to do the
right thing," he began. "My purpose is not to proclaim my sainthood
but it is to undo the wrong I could have participated in."

I knew Sejusa's background. When I told him I wanted to write about
him, he sent me his CV. In addition to the usual sections entitled
"Education" and "Employment History," there was a long section
entitled "Battles"—including several in northern Uganda where the
woman heckler said she was from. Yet I was also aware that since
colonial times, third-world exiles like him have tried to form
movements for the liberation of their countries. Some went on to
change history; others did not. Few have had spotless backgrounds.
More than a few Ugandans have told me that only someone who has been
entangled in the country's complex military politics is likely to
understand it well enough to be able to change it.

Sejusa grew up in southern Uganda, where his father was a preacher.
During the 1970s he led student protests against the abuses of then
President Idi Amin. He was arrested several times and was once hacked
with a machete in the torture cells of Amin's State Research Bureau.
He still bears the scars on his head. By then, Ugandan politics had
settled into a depressing pattern of ethnic upheavals. In 1966, Prime
Minister Milton Obote, a Langi from northern Uganda, exiled Edward
Muteesa II, then Uganda's president and also king of the southern
Buganda tribe.

In 1971, General Idi Amin, a former British sergeant from a different
northern tribe, overthrew Obote in a coup and then set about
oppressing just about everyone who wasn't from his own region. After
Amin was ousted by Ugandan rebels aided by the Tanzanian army, Obote
rigged an election and returned to power in 1980. Before long, leaders
from southern Uganda were again being jailed and tortured.

Museveni, a southerner like Sejusa, was a teenager in the 1950s, just
as the British were leaving, and was beguiled by their guns and
uniforms.According to one of his high school teachers, he sometimes
marched around pretending to be a field marshal. Museveni's senior
thesis at the University of Dar es Salaam was on Frantz Fanon's theory
that violence could be a cleansing force when committed in the name of
revolution.13

Museveni traveled to Mozambique during the independence war and wrote
of the alleged empowering effect on peasants of gazing upon the
severed heads of Portuguese soldiers. As defense minister in the
short-lived administration of Godfrey Binaisa, who led Uganda for a
brief period between Amin and Obote, Museveni once ordered his troops
to fire on unarmed demonstrators, killing dozens, Sejusa told me. But
once his own rebel movement was underway, he professed to be
nontribalist and democratic.

As soon as Museveni's troops took over, the ethnic upheavals resumed
almost at once. Throughout northern Uganda, which borders on South
Sudan, soldiers looted grain stores, stole cattle, fired on busloads
of students, and committed other atrocities. Songs referring to
northerners as "things" and "anyanyas," meaning roughly "Sudanese
bastards," were regularly played on the radio. Within a year, a civil
war was underway in northern Uganda that would last twenty years.

Sejusa had a major part in the early years of this war, and this is
what the woman heckler at the FUF launch had been screaming about. On
one side was the Lord's Resistance Army, a northern rebel movement led
by a messianic—some would say mentally ill—former choirboy named
Joseph Kony. Kony's atrocities are well known. His followers kidnapped
thousands of children, forcing the boys to become soldiers and the
girls to become sex slaves, cooks, and porters. Villagers who tried to
protect their children were shot dead or had their lips and ears
hacked off, a symbolic warning not to become government informants.

Less well known is that the Ugandan army also tortured, killed, and
kidnapped civilians.14 In 1989, soldiers rounded up scores of men in a
village called Mukura and herded them into an empty railway wagon.
Most of the men inside died of suffocation. In 1991, a battalion
operating in the northern villages around Bucoro rounded up hundreds
of civilians and held them in an empty primary school. Thirty-six men
spent three days imprisoned in a three-foot-deep pit covered with
logs, listening to their screaming wives and daughters being
gang-raped by Museveni's soldiers. Several men were raped as well. One
night the soldiers burned hot peppers over a fire near the pit and
blew the smoke into it. At least six men died of hunger and
asphyxiation. When the soldiers finally departed, they took at least
eight of the youngest women with them; most have never been heard from
again. No one was ever punished for any of these crimes.

Sejusa, who was then known as Tinyefuza, was minister of state for
defense during the military campaign called Operation North during
which the Bucoro massacre occurred. Reports by USAID and Amnesty
International link him to this and other atrocities, but the reports
give no details of Sejusa's involvement. He was in command of a
different division at the time of the Bucoro massacre, and he denied
to me that he could have done anything to stop it.

Trying to find out more, I contacted Lawrence Nsereko, a Ugandan
journalist now living in the US. Before fleeing into exile in 1995,
Nsereko had been arrested and tortured by Museveni's police several
times. Nsereko was one of the few journalists covering the LRA war
when Sejusa was in charge of Operation North. The entire area had been
cordoned off, and he sometimes had to sneak in across the border from
Sudan.

Nsereko is not one to downplay the misdeeds of Museveni's officers, so
I asked him whether he knew if Sejusa had ever committed war crimes.
"There's an official military structure in Uganda," Nsereko explained,
"but there's also a shadow paramilitary structure consisting of
lower-level officers who were responsible for most of the crimes."
Sejusa was a senior commander in the official structure, but according
to Nserenko, the real brutes were men like Major Reuben Ikondere, who
led the Bucoro massacre, Captain Chris Bunyenyezi, who led the
battalion that killed the people in the train wagon in Mukura, and
Captain "Suicide" Mwesigwa, who was famous for having shot dead his
father's dog and, when the father complained, shot him dead too. "Most
of these men were under Museveni's direct command," Nsereko said.
"There's no way that Sejusa could have effectively reprimanded them,"
assuming that he'd wanted to.

Ronald Kabuubi/AFP/Getty Images President Museveni's son, Muhoozi
­Kainerugaba, commander of the Ugandan Special Forces, Kampala, August
2012 However, in 1991, Sejusa did order the arrest and severe beating
of eighteen northern Ugandan politicians. None died, but Sejusa's
soldiers broke the hand of one of them. When I asked Sejusa about
this, he sighed. "Museveni had ordered the arrest of those
politicians. They wanted the government to negotiate with Kony, but
the policy was to fight him, and they were slowing down the operation.
I wasn't stupid. I knew it was wrong."

In 1992, Sejusa was sacked from the Defense Ministry when he clashed
with Museveni over a British proposal to phase out half the infantry
and use the savings to purchase modern weapons. By then, Kony had been
severely wounded and had retreated to Sudan. Sejusa argued that the
infantry should be reduced gradually, because the troops were
necessary to keep Kony out of Uganda. After Museveni overruled him and
reduced the force, Kony recovered and resumed terrorizing northern
Uganda in 1994. As the war escalated, the government created squalid
internment camps for the local population. By the time the camps
closed in 2005, 25,000 children had been abducted, more than a million
people had fled their homes, and hundreds of thousands—no one knows
for certain how many—were dead.

After returning to the capital Kampala from the LRA front in 1992,
Sejusa worked on writing the country's constitution, which guarantees
free and fair elections, the rule of law, and other rights that he
says Museveni has since violated. In 1996, he testified to Parliament
that the LRA war was being needlessly prolonged, that the military
budget had become a source of corrupt gains for the government and
army insiders, and that soldiers and civilians were suffering horribly
as a result—a claim later backed up by many scholars and journalists
who have studied Uganda.15 He then submitted his resignation from the
army, but President Museveni refused to accept it. Sejusa sued and won
the right to resign in court. The government appealed. The Supreme
Court was, according to Sejusa, also about to rule in his favor, but
as with the rigged elections, the decision was reversed on direct
orders from the president. Sejusa went on to hold various government
positions, and achieved high rank in the army. Because he was unable
to resign, he remained subject to military law, and under Museveni's
control.

"It was like living your whole life inside a coffin," Sejusa said when
I asked him how he felt about that. "We'd discuss it in the high
command," he told me. The officers would ask each other, "How long can
this go on? Is this why we fought to liberate this country?" But then,
he said, another internal voice would speak up. "And where will you go
if you quit? They'll follow you everywhere. And you have a family. And
they could also be hurt."

Since Sejusa fled to the UK, Ugandan operatives have been trailing him
and he is now under the protection of Scotland Yard. Back in Uganda,
four members of his staff were arrested and charged with treason, and
hundreds of villagers from his home area were rounded up and jailed
under the same charge. If convicted, they could all receive the death
penalty. Sejusa's teenage son was removed from his Ugandan boarding
school after thugs were found trying to scale the perimeter fence at
night and administrators said they could not guarantee his safety.
Sejusa's wife narrowly missed being killed in two car accidents, and
in November 2013, his brother was found dead at the base of a dam.
Sejusa is convinced that all of these incidents were orchestrated by
the government, as was the death of Nebanda.

Whether democracy can ever take root in a country with such a brutal
political culture will depend crucially on the support that the FUF
and all those who continue to struggle for justice in Uganda will
receive from inside the country and from the US and other foreign
powers, some of which have kept Museveni's phony democracy going for
years. In 2012, the World Bank and several European donors finally
reduced aid to Uganda because of the regime's corruption, and in
February 2014, President Obama issued a statement warning that the
enactment by the Ugandan government of a harsh bill criminalizing
homosexuality would damage US–Uganda relations. Museveni signed the
bill nevertheless, declaring that he would "work with Russia."
Uganda's recently developed oil fields may soon diminish the need for
foreign aid in any case.

If Obama really wants to support human rights, he should use whatever
leverage he has to support the rights of all Ugandans. America did
this for Eastern Europeans during the cold war, and we owe the same to
Ugandans today, especially since so much of our own money has been
used to stifle all internal democratic means of loosening Museveni's
grip on power.

—This is the second of two articles. "Murder in Uganda" appeared in
the Review's April 3, 2014 issue.

http://www.nybooks.com/articles/archives/2014/apr/24/uganda-general-challenges-dictator/

1 Howard French, "On Visit to Congo, Albright Praises the New Leader,"
The New York Times, December 13, 1997. ↩

2 Andrew Mwenda and Roger Tangri, "Patronage Politics, Donor Reforms
and Regime Consolidation in Uganda," African Affairs, Vol. 104 (July
2005). ↩

3 Filip Reyntjens, Political Governance in Post-Genocide Rwanda
(Cambridge University Press, 2013). ↩

4 "DRC War May Cost Uganda Billions," BBC News, December 19, 2005. ↩

5 "Profile: DR Congo Militia Leader Thomas Lubanga," BBC News, July 12, 2012. ↩

6 "Fears South Sudan Conflict Could Infect Region," The Daily Nation,
March 8, 2014. ↩

7 David Axe, "US Weapons Now in Somali Terrorists' Hands," Wired,
August 2, 2011. ↩

8 "Democracy in Africa: The New Generation of African Leaders,"
Hearing before the Subcommittee on African Affairs of the Committee on
Foreign Relations, United States Senate, One Hundred Fifth Congress,
Second Session, March 12, 1998. ↩

9 See "Murder in Uganda," The New York Review, April 3, 2014. ↩

10 "Henry Gombya, Nebanda, Wapa, Mugalu, and Others Died from Orders
on High," The London Evening Post, August 29, 2013. ↩

11 George W. Kanyeihamba, The Blessings and Joy of Being Who You Are (
George W. Kanyeihamba, 2012); Charles Onyango-Obbo, "'Crown Prince'
Museveni, and 'Queen' Janet,'" The Monitor, May 9, 2001. ↩

12 Estimate from "Letting the Big Fish Swim: Failures to Prosecute
High-level Corruption in Uganda," Human Rights Watch, October 2013. ↩

13 Amii Omara-Otunnu, "Yoweri Museveni," in Political Leaders in
Contemporary Africa South of the Sahara: A Biographical Dictionary,
edited by Harvey Glickman (Greenwood, 1992). Museveni's thesis on
Fanon is "Fanon's Theory on Violence: Its Verification in Liberated
Mozambique," reprinted in Essays on the Liberation of Southern Africa,
edited by Nathan M. Shamuyarira (Dar es Salaam: Tanzania Publishing
House, 1971). ↩

14 Amii Omara-Otunnu, "The Struggle for Democracy in Uganda," The
Journal of Modern African Studies, Vol. 30, No. 3 (September 1992). ↩

15 The Lord's Resistance Army: Myth and Reality, edited by Tim Allen
and Koen Vlassenroot (Zed, 2010). ↩

1
Howard French, "On Visit to Congo, Albright Praises the New Leader,"
The New York Times, December 13, 1997. ↩

2
Andrew Mwenda and Roger Tangri, "Patronage Politics, Donor Reforms and
Regime Consolidation in Uganda," African Affairs, Vol. 104 (July
2005). ↩

3
Filip Reyntjens, Political Governance in Post-Genocide Rwanda
(Cambridge University Press, 2013). ↩

4
"DRC War May Cost Uganda Billions," BBC News, December 19, 2005. ↩

5
"Profile: DR Congo Militia Leader Thomas Lubanga," BBC News, July 12, 2012. ↩

6
"Fears South Sudan Conflict Could Infect Region," The Daily Nation,
March 8, 2014. ↩

7
David Axe, "US Weapons Now in Somali Terrorists' Hands," Wired, August
2, 2011. ↩

8
"Democracy in Africa: The New Generation of African Leaders," Hearing
before the Subcommittee on African Affairs of the Committee on Foreign
Relations, United States Senate, One Hundred Fifth Congress, Second
Session, March 12, 1998. ↩

9
See "Murder in Uganda," The New York Review, April 3, 2014. ↩

10
"Henry Gombya, Nebanda, Wapa, Mugalu, and Others Died from Orders on
High," The London Evening Post, August 29, 2013. ↩

11
George W. Kanyeihamba, The Blessings and Joy of Being Who You Are (
George W. Kanyeihamba, 2012); Charles Onyango-Obbo, "'Crown Prince'
Museveni, and 'Queen' Janet,'" The Monitor, May 9, 2001. ↩

12
Estimate from "Letting the Big Fish Swim: Failures to Prosecute
High-level Corruption in Uganda," Human Rights Watch, October 2013. ↩

13
Amii Omara-Otunnu, "Yoweri Museveni," in Political Leaders in
Contemporary Africa South of the Sahara: A Biographical Dictionary,
edited by Harvey Glickman (Greenwood, 1992). Museveni's thesis on
Fanon is "Fanon's Theory on Violence: Its Verification in Liberated
Mozambique," reprinted in Essays on the Liberation of Southern Africa,
edited by Nathan M. Shamuyarira (Dar es Salaam: Tanzania Publishing
House, 1971). ↩

14
Amii Omara-Otunnu, "The Struggle for Democracy in Uganda," The Journal
of Modern African Studies, Vol. 30, No. 3 (September 1992). ↩

15
The Lord's Resistance Army: Myth and Reality, edited by Tim Allen and
Koen Vlassenroot (Zed, 2010). ↩



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*"War is nothing but a continuation of political intercourse, with a
mixture of other means. Man will never be free until the last king is
strangled with the entrails of the last priest."*

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