The Ugandan paradox: the small folks need the free market most

Author, Charles Onyango Obbo. PHOTO/FILE

What you need to know:

  • "The immediate post-independence period in Africa created a powerful state-building dynamic, and a political and bureaucratic cadre..."

In his column titled “Uganda’s self-destructive impulses” (The Independent, August 9, 2021) Andrew Mwenda makes a valid criticism of banks’ archaic lending policies.
 He places the wider problem at the doorstep of IMF/World Bank-inspired neoliberal policies (privatisation, economic liberalisation and so forth).

 In a Twitter post, Daniel Kalinaki commenting on the column noted; “Time has proved you were right on aid, wrong on privatisation. I was wrong on aid, right on privatisation”.
 In reply, Mwenda jokingly chided me, writing: 
“I am now a repentant sinner, though my mentor @cobbo3 [Charles Onyango-Obbo] has not repented. He is still married to the free market… 
Since (like a one Yoweri) I don’t like to take any blame, please blame Charles for my old mistakes!”

 Mwenda and I have debated this issue for over 15 years, and we will be at it for a long time to come.
 Interesting his joke about President Yoweri Museveni, because while his politics has depressed me for many years, there are two things on which I vigorously support his position: the economic liberalisation of the late 1980s and early 1990s, and the return of Uganda-Asian properties. These are issues that, as I have reported previously, got me thrown out of Kampala clubs when I argued that it was hypocritical to argue for the restoration of the Buganda Kingdom and property, while in the same breath rejecting the same rights for Ugandan-Asians.

 There are many economic arguments I have made before why liberalisation and privatisation were perhaps the best things the NRM ever did. Not today.
 I will go back a few years. Our parents (bless their souls) made a good life for themselves in the grand village of Asinge in Tororo, when they retired. Devout Catholics, they were nevertheless fundamentalists of the Protestant ethic, defined as “the value attached to hard work, thrift, and efficiency in one’s worldly calling”.

 One Sunday when they returned from church, they found several four-wheel-drive Toyotas with Ugandan officials, and some mzungus in tow, in their compound. One of the Ugandans pulled my father and said the mzungus were funders of National Agricultural Advisory Services (NAADS), and had been brought to see a success story of the project.  There was one problem; my parents had never received a shilling or been even remotely connected with NAADS. The Ugandan official told the old man he should be a patriot and play along, and not embarrass them and the country. He was a difficult man, but being a Sunday he agreed, on condition that he personally wouldn’t show the visitors around.

 NAADS had spent hundreds of millions of shillings in the district, but most of the projects had flopped. They needed to hoodwink donors with a successful private one. 
 And that’s one of the deeper structural problems. The immediate post-independence period in Africa created a powerful state-building dynamic, and a political and bureaucratic cadre marinated in the anti-colonial struggle that was wired to build new nations, and re-organise economies around a state-driven logic that “brought development” to millions of Africans.
 Not any more. Though in the wider Eastern Africa you can point to one or two countries that have a relatively successful statist-driven developmental model, there are no more than five on the continent.

 What the NAADS people were showing their funders at our parents’ home is a Ugandan, African, story. Our people have historically been free-market folks. They ploughed their gardens, tended their cattle, and kept the grain for themselves in their granaries, and sold the surplus for a profit. They slaughtered their cows, fed their many wives and children, and sold the rest of the meat. The successful ones were honoured in the village. Beyond receiving their tributes, no king or chief centralised production or distribution. They only seized produce in war.

 And there’s something else. Because of the nature of our states, when it controls the economy it allocates the benefits to the leaders, their cronies, and their village mates.
 When you come from an area that doesn’t have the numbers to threaten the Big Man and bargain for groceries, you will go hungry if the government controlled bread and handed out food, because you have no negotiating power.

 In a liberalised economy, you have a better chance. You can sell the fruits of your labour to the market. Or you can take it across the border in Kenya and make a small profit.  Poor corrupt nations can’ afford statist economies. They are the ones that need the free market most. And if you are a marginalised community, either by nationality, or gender (women), your meal ticket is a free economy. The case against a liberal economy is an elegant argument for a small elite to capture and gorge on the fat of the land.
Mr Onyango-Obbo is a journalist, 
writer and curator of the “Wall of Great Africans”. Twitter@cobbo3