Patriotism and the Rule of Law: Finding Uganda’s Middle Path

As debates over abductions, bail and informal justice grow louder across the country, a Rukungiri-born doctor and law student argues that loving Uganda and demanding accountability from her leaders must go hand in hand.

In recent months, Ugandans have been talking about abductions, people held without formal charge, and citizens being punished outside the courts. Many describe this with one popular saying: “Bizeemu”, meaning the bad old days are repeating themselves. Older residents remember the fear of the 1970s. Younger people are now asking whether that fear could return.

In 1986, the National Resistance Army (NRA) took power through Legal Notice No. 1 of 1986. For many Ugandans, that moment felt like a new beginning, a chance for democracy and the rule of law. The young rebel leader, Yoweri Museveni, promised Ugandans a fundamental change. In fairness, much of that promise has been delivered. I say this with confidence because, all of us see the socioeconomic transformation of our country.

Real Progress, Told Simply

As a medical doctor, I look at the health numbers first, because they tell the truth plainly. In 1986, Uganda had about 14 million people. Nearly 140,000 children under five years died every year. That works out to about 380 children dying every single day. Today, Uganda’s population has grown to nearly 50 million people, more than three times as many as in 1986. Yet only about 50,000 children under five die each year now. In simple terms: our population more than tripled, but child deaths fell by more than half.

On the health of mothers, Uganda now records fewer deaths than any other country in East and Central Africa. Across the whole of Africa, only South Africa does better. Uganda loses fewer than 200 mothers for every 100,000 births. These are not small achievements, and no honest person should deny them.

So Why the Fear Today?

If so much has improved, why are we once again talking about abductions and denial of bail, nearly fifty years after the terror of Idi Amin and Milton Obote? Is this a warning sign of what is to come? I remain optimistic and believe it is not. But I understand why more cautious Ugandans fear that the ghosts of the 1970s are returning.

Uganda, like many African countries, inherited a colonial system of government built on control rather than service to the people. Today, some public officials still serve only two goals: building their own careers, or grabbing opportunities for themselves. President Museveni recently described such people using the phrase “Najja kulya”, meaning roughly “I have come to eat.” It is a popular way of describing officials who join public service purely to benefit themselves. Such people do not build the nation. Quietly, they destroy it.

Since the early 1990s, the NRM government has spoken often about fighting corruption and building accountability and patriotism. Good words and intentions, however, have not been enough on their own. Today, self-preservation, that is, leaders protecting their own positions above all else has become common in public service and in politics. The reason for the routing we see today.

So, when the Law Fails, What Next?

If the formal justice system fails to punish wrongdoing, what should be done? There are only two extreme options. First, government can step back and let society police itself. Second, government can use informal methods of punishment, even at the risk of being called dictatorial. The first option means government abandoning its duty to protect ordinary citizens, who are often the most powerless.

In my law classes at Cavendish University, we discussed whether corruption is a political, social, or moral problem. By its nature, corruption is a moral failure, this is often why the most corrupt people are already wealthy and lack for nothing. Many moral problems in our communities have historically been resolved outside the courtroom. In earlier generations, for example, a girl who became pregnant outside marriage was treated as bringing shame on her family, and could be severely punished. A man who beat his wife could be publicly shamed, and sometimes beaten in return, by the community. These informal punishments were often harsh, and I do not hold them up as a model to return to today. But they show that our communities have always found ways, for better or for worse, to enforce moral standards beyond the courtroom.

Two Wrong Roads

Building a strong Uganda requires us to see patriotism and the rule of law as partners, not rivals. Real love for our country must be rooted in respect for its laws. At the same time, enforcing those laws must serve to unite the nation, not divide it. Neither extreme work on its own.

• Blind Patriotism: This happens when the state demands obedience without question, using “love of country” to silence honest criticism. This was common in the 1970s and early 1980s.
• Rigid Legalism: This happens when the law is treated only as a box-ticking exercise, stripped of its moral duty to the community and hence allowing corrupt officials to walk free once they have technically followed procedure.

The Better Way: A Balanced Path

Finding the middle ground means building a country where national pride and accountability work together, not against each other.

• The Constitution comes first: Uganda’s 1995 Constitution, under National Objective XXIX, gives every citizen a civic duty to be patriotic. But that same principle also requires citizens to promote democracy and the rule of law. Loving Uganda means protecting the integrity of our Constitution.
• Leaders must be held accountable: True patriots demand strong institutions. Article 128 of the Constitution requires that our courts remain fully independent. Demanding transparency and an end to corruption is not betrayal of the country, it is patriotism in its truest form.

“When citizens love their country, they respect its laws. When the state respects the law, it earns the genuine loyalty of its people.”

What This Means for Us Here in Rukungiri

Change begins at home. Whether we are farmers, teachers, traders, health workers, or students here in Rukungiri, each of us has a role to play in building a Uganda where loving our country and demanding good laws go hand in hand.

Civic education must go further than government programs alone. It should teach human rights, social justice, and equality before the law, starting in our schools, our places of worship, and our community meetings right here at home.

When citizens love their country, they respect its laws. When the state respects the law, it earns the genuine loyalty of its people and that is a loyalty that is freely given, not one bought through fear.

The Patriotic League of Uganda has already begun to show what this balanced approach looks like in practice, and I remain optimistic about where this path can take us. Starting right here in Rukungiri.

ABOUT THE WRITER

Dr. Dickson Niwasasira, is a Medical Doctor, an entrepreneur, and a student of Law at Cavendish University. Born and raised in Rukungiri, he writes and speaks on health, governance and community development.