Why a bit of election violence this time round might be a good thing

One enduring image from the last election was the sight of Kizza Besigye arrested on polling day after storming a facility where he claimed vote rigging was taking place.

Before campaigns even kick off, this election has already served up its own drama. Robert ‘Bobi Wine’ Kyagulanyi was detained just after being nominated, stopped from accessing his office, and forcefully taken home. FDC’s Patrick Oboi Amuriat, still struggling to fill Besigye’s shoes, arrived barefoot at the nomination centre. He had the tentative gait of a hangover civil servant arriving home after sunrise the morning after the night before – all because of a violent and, quite frankly, unnecessary encounter with the police.

For many Ugandans looking at these events at ground level, they seem pretty ordinary. After all, we have had a presidential candidate nominated while in jail on trumped-up rape charges. In fact, political violence has been so normalised that it is a rite of passage for Opposition candidates: You aren’t genuinely in Opposition until you are seen chocking on teargas, bloodied, and maybe a missing tooth.

Ugandan Opposition politicians don’t go commando in public; one small altercation with law enforcement and one is separated from one’s pants, leaving the ballot box exposed.

This violence is illustrative and instrumental. Illustrative, because it is a extension of the contestation of power in Uganda. From Nakulabye in 1963 to Kasese 2016 and all the major wars in-between, violence is often mere expression of political ambition. Resistance, armed or not but often also violent, its corollary.

It also illustrates the military nature of the State, as seen in the presence of three military generals on the ballot, and at least one ex-military protagonist on the Opposition side in every election since 2001.

Violence initially was instrumental in containing political opponents, in the north, and in the heavy deployment against multiparty agitators in the early 1990s, for example, and then in also shaping the narrative around them, especially after Besigye entered the fray in 2000.

By directing heavy, but highly targeted violence against Besigye and a few close allies, it was possible for one to shape a ‘why them?’ narrative. If Mao, Muntu, Otunnu and others could move around unhindered,

Besigye and Erias Lukwago had to be doing something wrong to deserve the violence they attracted, so the story went. They weren’t merely victims; they had to be perpetrators of some form for it to make sense. Many missed the fact that while the violence was narrowly targeted, its inevitable publicity was meant to warn all opponents and undecided moderates, particularly older and female voters who tend to be risk-averse.

Without Besigye on the ballot, this violence has to find a new target; when one wields a hammer, one tends to go around looking for nails. The obvious target appears to be Bobi Wine whose ghetto origins predispose him to be seen on the more violent end of the class warfare spectrum, but who, most importantly, could potentially present a generational threat.

That Bobi and his supporters were going to encounter violence was a matter of when, not if. In fact the violence began long before the nominations (see index entries from Arua to Zaake) and could continue during the campaigns.

The reaction to this violence will be interesting to watch. If they fall for the bait and retaliate, which many young, hot-bloodied young men in the ghetto are inclined to do, the victim-perpetrator crown will merely be shifted to Bobi Wine and NUP.  “How come Muntu and Mao campaign without incident?”

If by some miracle, however, the ghetto youth were able to restrain themselves and take it first on one chin, and then the cheek, it would expose the often one-sided nature of the violence and perhaps cause enough people, even within the ruling party, to hold their noses and say ‘enough is enough’. “How come everyone who opposes us is violent?”

This soul-searching could even be useful for the ruling party itself as it enters an inevitable succession cycle. It is a troubling thought to countenance, especially for Opposition supporters who’ve already suffered the brunt of political violence over the years. Yet Bobi and his supporters can help end this primitive culture of political violence by taking one for the team – as long as they don’t flinch or retaliate.

Mr Kalinaki is a journalist and poor man’s freedom fighter.

[email protected] @Kalinaki