In 2017, or thereabouts, the Uganda Human Rights Commission (UHCR) came to Nakasongola Barracks for a two-day workshop at the Air Force Wing at Nakasongola Air Force Base. Several units outside the Uganda People’s Defence Forces (UPDF) Air Force unit also attended, including Luweero Industries Limited, where I worked as a senior administrator.
The workshop discussions outlining our divergent perspectives were lively, without any guns going off. To be sure, soldiers are highly ideological beings. So, when they pronounced themselves on the subject of free expression, they tended to sound more doctrinaire than sincere. Their thinking was evidently circumscribed by rigid, pre-set grooves, essential to fostering the groupthink characteristic of soldiers.
To the delight of the UHCR officials, the more than 100 soldiers in attendance, with smatterings of civilians, agreed that there should never be any encumbrances to free speech. People should be allowed to speak their minds, regardless of the character of their thoughts. It was clear that ideology had replaced the attendees’ capacity for original, individual thought. As part of a minority of one, I took a different view.
To explain myself, I reminded everybody about how unrestrained free speech undergirded the genocidal outbursts over the radio during the Rwanda genocide. Radio was a primary tool used to incite the 1994 Rwanda genocide by broadcasting hate speech, identifying Tutsi targets, and dehumanising victims as ‘cockroaches.’ In brief, I argued that by permitting all speech one could not prevent hate speech masked as free speech being allowed into the marketplace of ideas.
Suddenly, the attendees at this seminar, along with the UHCR officials, stared vacantly at me, momentarily. Before gathering their wits about themselves long enough to redirect their gaze towards the workshop facilitator to save their worldview from taking a fatal knock, as it were. The facilitator didn’t miss a beat.
‘There are exceptions to every rule,’ he riposted. He didn’t elaborate further beyond stating that truism. Nonetheless, I loved the contentious nature of barracks debates. Soldiers, contrary to their training, or possibly because of it, love a verbal prizefight. The prize being learning and the sharpening of wit. Indeed, this is an army that believed in the force of persuasion instead of the persuasion of force. Well, so I thought.
In the just concluded 2026 General Election, held on January 15, the UPDF and other security agencies showed a different character. One that led to a clash with the UPDF’s carefully cultivated image of being an assemblage of armed intellectuals. What we saw was instead brawn over brains. Heavily armed soldiers and police were deployed across Kampala and other major towns in the country to prevent ‘anti-government protests’ and maintain order, a move the opposition labeled as high-handed, as opposed to being high-minded. It did not stop there. Following the January 15 vote, the military authorities confirmed that they had detained approximately 2,000 Opposition supporters and killed 30 during unrest following a disputed victory for President Museveni.
The UPDF predictably offered a pro forma response, denying the reports that it forcibly abducted Opposition leader Bobi Wine via helicopter, though his party, the National Unity Platform (NUP), maintained he was taken to an unknown location. The African Union-led mission noted the military’s involvement in the electoral process, stating it contradicted the 1995 Constitution, which prohibits the UPDF from engaging in partisan electoral activities. This all happened despite the Special Forces Command (SFC), an elite unit of the UPDF, having been tasked with providing security for all 2026 presidential candidates. However, on balance, the State only gives its opponents and adherents security as a means to managing their movements and intelligence gathering.
Still, the conduct of Uganda’s army in the last (and prior elections) points to a deteriorating state of professionalism. Yet this conduct runs counter to the much-vaunted creed and credos of the UPDF. Professionalising the UPDF was a means to contrasting it with the wanton armies of Ugandan regimes past. According to the army, the aforesaid professionalisation endeavour involves transforming the army from a guerrilla-based force into a modern, skilled institution through rigorous training, specialised education, and improved welfare. Key efforts include establishing the National Defence College, bachelor’s/master’s programmes, and a structured retirement system to enhance competence. Key aspects of the UPDF’s professionalisation include: Firstly, intensive training and education.
Owing to this, the UPDF has nearly 20 training academies, focusing on technical skills, leadership, and ideology (patriotism and Pan-Africanism). Recent efforts saw 352 cadets commissioned, including graduates of a three-year Bachelor of Defence Studies programme. The second key effort revolves around infrastructure and equipment. As such, the military is investing in infrastructure and acquiring modern equipment to ensure operational success.
Thirdly, institutional reforms-a formalised, honourable retirement system has been established, moving away from past practices where officers would ‘disappear into the shadows,’ according to State House Uganda. The fourth key effort is operational focus. Here, the Force emphasises combat readiness, ‘operations other than war,’ and regional peace initiatives. Fifthly, and around combating resource misuse, leadership has pledged to eliminate the waste and misuse of resources to ensure better conditions for soldiers. Then there is also, fourthly, merit-based promotion in the sense that promotions are increasingly aimed at rewarding competence, integrity, and dedication.