Prime
Let honest Ugandans be the first to cast a stone
Kaboggoza Kibudde
Crimes that benefit both the perpetrator and primary victim are complicated to fight since the victim is unlikely to report or aid prosecution of the crime. Often, the victim will secretly collaborate with the perpetrator to avoid detection by law enforcement. In some cases, law enforcement benefits from the crime, too, so they facilitate rather than fight it.
Take corruption, commercial sex work, or drug trafficking as examples. In each case, a willing buyer confidentially meets a willing seller to meet each other’s needs. The associated secrecy and potential culpability of law enforcement make such crimes hard to detect, let alone prosecute successfully.
Moreover, the law on its own can’t eradicate the guilty pleasures of human nature. If we genuinely hated these vices, they wouldn’t command such a big market across time and space. That they do simply means many who rebuke them in public partake of them in private.
Let’s consider corruption. Who of us is innocent? We may publicly decry corruption, but we also pay bribes to secure favourable decisions without feeling any guilt.
And when we tell the story, we do so with pride - not because we lack morals, but because we perceive the exchange positively. Where the law sees corruption, we see cooperation and the exchange of gifts or favours - the kind of things we associate with friendship and good behaviour.
So, while some see a corrupt President, others see a leader assisting people whose support he coincidentally needs to secure power, peace, and stability.
Incidentally, the President’s critics aren’t any holier despite public displays of repugnance towards corruption. Undoubtedly, the President is not an island of corruption in a sea of righteous Ugandans - we have all sinned. This writer, too, has eaten from the tree of life and wouldn’t be shocked if a couple of traffic officers deemed him kind.
This self-awareness is partly why this writer refrains from casting stones at ‘our corrupt leaders.’ Other reservations stem from an understanding of corruption’s role in maintaining peace and stability in countries without a strong sense of nationhood.
Countries with significant national unity enjoy certain advantages over budding nations. First, they have fewer internal threats to peace and security. Secondly, citizens are seen primarily as individuals. In contrast, many Ugandans still identify more with subnational groups, such as ethnicities.
Consequently, prosecuting an influential figure can easily be perceived by members of his group as an attack on the group. In such cases, following the law to the letter is difficult. The State has to perform a political balancing act where it prioritises harmony at the expense of the rule of law.
So, more than the government lacking political will, it may very well be that government lacks political support to prosecute the corrupt. Besides, we, the citizens, implicitly demand our leaders to be corrupt as long as they share the loot. For that, we even offer them front seats in places of worship! These are some of the current internal contradictions of Ugandan society.
To us, a leader is one who offers timely (read immediate) practical solutions to our problems. Whereas a leader in the West can help through policy alone, a Ugandan leader is also expected to provide ‘immediate practical help’ such as money, food, or a job. Long-term or immaterial solutions fall under “speaking too much English,” which is not a compliment.
That is not to say corruption should be left unchecked. Rather, as we fight it, let us not overestimate the guilt of others while underestimating our own.
Mr Kibudde is a socio-political thinker
Twitter: @kkaboggoza
