From Pan-Africanist to Pan-Familist

Museveni began by selling himself as a Pan-Africanist, but after four decades in power, the “Pan” has quietly disappeared. What remains is the family.

President Yoweri Museveni has had a busy August.

His family has been collecting achievements like a royal family collecting medals, degrees and photographs. And each celebration tells us something about what Museveni’s version of Pan-Africanism has become.

The “Pan” has disappeared.

What remains is the family.

Welcome to Pan-Familism.

First came the graduation of his grandson, Ruhamya Kainerugaba, from the Royal Military Academy Sandhurst in Britain. He completed the academy’s 44-week Regular Officer Commissioning Course, the same course his father, Gen. Muhoozi Kainerugaba, completed before graduating from Sandhurst in 2000.

Sandhurst is one of those places where African leaders can send their children to learn how to wear uniforms properly, salute smartly and, perhaps, understand how power works when the cameras are watching.

It is also an interesting place for the Museveni family.

Museveni has spent years talking about his revolutionary credentials and his Pan African vision. Yet he also talks proudly about his relationship with British intelligence during his rise to power, including how British intelligence officers helped move him around London and how Western powers supported his struggle.

So perhaps the family story has always been hiding in plain sight.

Britain was there at the beginning.

America has been there for much of the journey.

And the Museveni family has been the beneficiary.

It reminds me of the old colonial picture of the British flag standing beside the Christian cross. The flag represented imperial power. The cross represented the missionary power that often arrived holding a Bible while empire arrived holding a gun.

Today, the arrangement looks slightly different.

The British flag has acquired an American partner.

And the Museveni family is still standing underneath the umbrella.

Then came another celebration.

Museveni’s daughter, Pastor Patience Museveni Rwabwogo, was consecrated as an Episcopal Bishop overseeing Covenant Nations Churches in Uganda and beyond. The ceremony was led by American evangelist Bishop Dr. LaDonna C. Osborn.

President Museveni and First Lady Janet Museveni were among the guests.

And just like that, the family tree grew another branch.

The military.

The government.

The presidency.

And now the church.

If Museveni’s original political language was Pan-Africanism, his current family project looks more like Pan-Familism.

The whole continent can wait.

The family cannot.

This is where the comedy becomes dark.

Museveni has spent decades speaking about African freedom, African sovereignty and the liberation of Africa from foreign domination.

Yet his own family’s success story is deeply connected to the very Western institutions his political rhetoric sometimes portrays as imperialist.

His grandson studies at Sandhurst.

His son studied at Sandhurst.

His daughter rises through a church connected to American evangelical influence.

And the same Western powers that have helped sustain Museveni’s political relevance continue to provide military cooperation, weapons, training and diplomatic support.

It is a strange kind of anti-imperialism.

The empire is supposedly the enemy.

But somehow it keeps getting invited to the family graduation.

And the family keeps collecting the certificates.

Meanwhile, Uganda is being told to tighten its belt.

The country has recently been pushing a sovereignty agenda aimed at protecting Ugandans from foreign influence. The proposed law targets people or organizations acting for, under the direction of, or with financing and support from foreigners in political or influence-related activities.

That raises an uncomfortable question.

Who exactly counts as an agent of foreigners?

Does the rule apply equally to everybody?

Or does sovereignty become very flexible when the foreigner arrives carrying a military scholarship, a diplomatic handshake, a training program or a generous political partnership?

Because the First Family has benefited enormously from international connections.

Education.

Military training.

Medical care.

Foreign political relationships.

Religious connections.

International funding.

And diplomatic protection.

Yet ordinary Ugandans who interact with foreign organizations can suddenly discover that sovereignty is a very serious business.

Perhaps sovereignty has a VIP entrance.

Perhaps the First Family has the pass.

Uganda has seen this movie before.

Mobutu Sese Seko of Zaire built a grotesquely wealthy personal regime while ordinary Congolese citizens lived in poverty. Western powers supported him for years because he was useful to them. When he was no longer useful, the friendship ended with remarkable speed.

Then came the rebels.

Uganda and Rwanda, once celebrated by Western governments as the new stars of Africa, helped bring down Mobutu’s regime.

That is the ugly joke of imperial politics.

You can be a dictator for decades as long as you are useful.

Your friends call you a stabilizer.

Your soldiers become peacekeepers.

Your abuses become unfortunate complications.

Your elections become “democratic processes.”

And when you finally become inconvenient, everyone suddenly discovers your dictatorship.

Museveni has watched this movie very carefully.

For forty years, he has positioned Uganda as an important Western security partner in Africa. Ugandan troops have fought in Somalia. Ugandan forces have operated in the Democratic Republic of Congo. Uganda has become an important military actor in the region.

The argument is always stability.

Security.

Regional peace.

The war against terrorism.

But there is another question that ordinary Ugandans keep asking.

What does all this stability do for the person who cannot afford food?

What does Pan-Africanism mean to the young Ugandan who has no job?

What does sovereignty mean to the opposition activist forced into exile?

What does national independence mean to someone sitting in a prison cell because they challenged the government?

And what does liberation mean when the same government has ruled for four decades?

Museveni’s greatest achievement may not be that he turned Uganda into a regional military power.

It may be that he turned a revolutionary movement into a family inheritance.

The country is becoming a family business.

The son has the military.

The father has the presidency.

The daughter has the church.

The grandson has Sandhurst.

And the rest of Uganda is left with the bill.

This is the transformation of the Pan-Africanist into the Pan-Familist.

The man who once spoke about liberating Africa now appears far more interested in making sure the family is prepared for whatever comes next.

And perhaps that is why these family celebrations irritate so many Ugandans.

People are struggling to put food on the table, pay rent and keep their children in school. Then they watch the First Family celebrating another graduation, another appointment, another international connection.

It is difficult to sell sacrifice to a hungry population while your own family keeps receiving the best seats in the house.

But Museveni understands something important.

He does not need every Ugandan to love him.

He needs the right people abroad to continue believing that he is useful.

For decades, the United States and Britain have treated Museveni as an important security partner in Africa. His government has provided troops for regional military operations and positioned Uganda as a reliable Western ally.

That relationship has helped give his government international legitimacy even as critics at home accuse his security forces of repression, torture, killings and attacks on political opponents.

And now there is another possibility.

More Ugandan troops.

More foreign military cooperation.

More weapons.

More training.

More applause from powerful capitals.

The perfect arrangement.

Ugandan sons can fight foreign wars.

Ugandan citizens can complain about their own government.

And the Museveni family can continue preparing for the future.

The president calls it Pan-Africanism.

Perhaps we should call it what it has become.

Pan-Familism.

Africa was supposed to be the project.

Uganda was supposed to be the project.

But somewhere along the road, the revolution found a family tree.

And the family tree got very, very comfortable.

— Yasin Kakande

Author of The Missing Corpse