Political scientists use the term court politics to describe a situation where all state affairs revolve around one person – often a despot or totalitarian ruler.
The phrase originates from the royal courts of medieval Europe, where everything centred on the king and his inner circle. This form of politics contributed to the outbreak of the Wars of the Roses in 15th Century England between the Lancastrian and Yorkist branches of the Plantagenet dynasty.
The Lancastrians, being the king’s family and loyalists such as Thomas, Earl of Somerset, enjoyed privileged access to Henry VI. They lobbied for titles and offices for their friends, however unqualified, sidelining the Yorkists who were of noble blood and often more competent. Resentment grew as the Yorks accused the king of being surrounded by evil counsellors – particularly Somerset and Queen Margaret’s relatives.
Nothing in the kingdom moved without the king’s decree. His word was law, and those close to him wielded immense power. Queen Margaret’s influence was so great that she effectively ruled through her husband, confiscating Yorkist estates and stripping Richard, Duke of York, of his command. Frustrated, Richard rebelled, claiming to rescue the king from corrupt advisers. The ensuing wars destroyed the Plantagenet line and ushered in the Tudors – what some historians call the end of the legitimate British monarchy. Centuries later, Adolf Hitler built a similar court around himself. After 1933, nothing in Germany was done without his consent. Power depended entirely on proximity to the Fhrer. His inner circle – Bormann, Keitel and Lammers – controlled access to him and recommended loyalists for positions regardless of competence.
When Hitler later suspected Bormann of overreaching, he discarded him – proof that favour in such systems is fleeting. Court politics thrives wherever autocrats wield absolute authority. Once, monarchs filled this role; today it is military rulers, one-party strongmen and revolutionary leaders whose parties dominate parliament. Political scientists call them personalist dictators. Their will outweighs the people’s, and their appointees are chosen not for merit but for loyalty. These aides, in turn, surround the leader with praise and falsehoods, assuring him of public love and opposition weakness while isolating him from reality. This pattern is familiar in Africa – from Mobutu’s Zaire and Kabila’s Congo to Moi’s Kenya. Uganda under Idi Amin was no exception. Amin abolished Parliament, subdued the judiciary, and ruled by decree.
Power was shared only among those with access to him – mostly his military comrades, fellow West Nilers and Muslims. When he expelled Asians, confiscated businesses went not to competent managers but to loyalists. Like Hitler with Bormann, Amin had his right-hand man, Maliyamungu, through whom all power passed. Many Ugandans today question President Museveni’s choice of lieutenants, viewing many as unqualified. Yet, like the princes described by Machiavelli, he is appointed by loyalty, not merit. Because of court politics, the President can impose anyone – however incompetent – upon the public. Loyal cadres who lose elections become commissioners; army officers head technocratic institutions. Many spend more time praising the leader than serving citizens, comparing him to God or vowing to die for him.
Court politics has become so entrenched that Ugandans now joke, ‘To get a job, you must know someone who knows someone.’ In essence, meritocracy counts for little; access and favour rule. No one is loyal to the office they hold, only to the patron who appointed them. The ultimate chain of loyalty leads back to one man. What most of these cadres fail to grasp is that the ruler’s interests are never static. No one enjoys permanent favour. When one clique falls, another rises – each eager to please. As history reminds us, whether in Europe’s royal courts or modern Uganda, it remains a game of use and dump.