A year after amending the Constitution we just named a team to, yes, you guessed it…!

What you need to know:

What’s the use of CRC? What is the point of appointing a Constitution Review Commission a year after key governance clauses in the Constitution, such as age limits, have already been decided by – to misquote Otto von Bismarck – a parliamentary majority literally whipped into line by blood and iron? The charitable way to look at it is to see it as the cart being put before the horse or, to stretch the equine reference by another yard, as a locking of the stable door long after the horses have bolted.

The appointment of a commission to review the Constitution was supposed to be a significant moment and a rallying point for reform. But apart from a few curious glances at the assembled team – rubberneck assessments of a roadside wreck, rather than studious examination under a microscope – there has been mostly disinterest, even disquiet. It is not hard to see why.

Let’s start with recent history. In November 2014, a letter from the Minister of Justice and Constitutional Affairs was read out in Parliament. It announced that the Executive was in the final stages of drafting amendments to the Constitution and invited interested parties to submit their memoranda to the Law Reform Commission before month-end.

Up to that point, a few eminent elderly citizens and religious leaders had been going on about a national dialogue over electoral reforms and the state of governance in the country. The minister’s letter had the impact, intended or not, of derailing that dialogue. Even the Opposition fell for it, with their leader in Parliament at the time calling for more time for the submission of memoranda – a request minister Kahinda Otafiire was more than willing to grant.

It was, of course, all smoke and mirrors and there were no electoral reforms, no constitutional amendments in the run-up to the 2016 elections. One must be forgiven for having a serious case of déjà vu about the latest pantomime, seeing as it, too, comes amidst calls for a national dialogue – once again led by eminent elderly citizens and religious leaders. Different players, same old game.

Much has been said about the nominees themselves, a motley mishmash of some genuinely legal and intellectual heavyweights, peppered with political rejects and court jesters. This in itself need not be a fatal flaw, after all history tells us about wars won by armies of sheep led by lions. The problem is that the lion in this case, Prof Khiddu Makubuya, is damaged goods – a once-upon-a-time leader of a pride since cast aside to roam the plains of the political savannah.

One struggles to name bigger intellectual giants than a man who was first to obtain a first-class law degree at Makerere and went on to an Ivy League PhD at Yale. But Mr Makubuya is best remembered for his dubious interpretation of the principle of innocence when he tried to keep Kizza Besigye off the ballot in the 2006 election, and for signing off what were, at best, criminal compensations to businessman and ruling party financier Hassan Basajjabalaba.

The former cast doubts about his technical competence; the latter about his integrity and judgment – hardly the reputation required to lead a process that should enjoy bi-partisan political support. But even if we were to give Mr Makubuya and his team the benefit of the doubt, as we should, it is hard to see the point of it all. The last CRC, led by Prof Frederick Ssempebwa, needed two-and-a-half years to collect views and write its report. Holding all things constant and using history as a guide, that puts us well beyond the next election in 2021.

But let us assume they work faster and smarter and do it in half the time, history and present reality still lean heavily against them. First, it is on the record, as reported by your columnist those many years ago, that the Ssempebwa Report was doctored and rewritten by Cabinet to remove term limits, usurping the power of the people. What is to prevent a repeat?
What is the point of appointing a Constitution Review Commission a year after key governance clauses in the Constitution, such as age limits, have already been decided by – to misquote Otto von Bismarck – a parliamentary majority literally whipped into line by blood and iron?

The charitable way to look at it is to see it as the cart being put before the horse or, to stretch the equine reference by another yard, as a locking of the stable door long after the horses have bolted. The less charitable way is to see it as mere political theatre: The opening of a valve to let off steam rather than a lancing of a festering boil.

A Constitution details ways in which a people agree to be governed and how to live together. After more than half a century of an unhappy union and several hit-and-miss constitutions, it is quite possible that we have arrived at a point where it is necessary to ask whether we even want to live together, let alone how we wish to be governed. That is the question the national dialogue should pose, which the CRC should then seek to answer. We should not fall for the same ruse twice.

Mr Kalinaki is a journalist and a poor man’s freedom fighter. [email protected]
Twitter: @Kalinaki.