Raymond Mujuni. Courtesy photoGoodbye, Raymond Mujuni. I genuinely wish you well. But please, do not gaslight us into believing that your decision to join government is simply a neutral professional move, or that we should celebrate it as an act of national service. Serving the state is not, by itself, honourable. The nature of the state you serve matters. Those who chose to serve apartheid South Africa could, by strict definition, be called public servants. Officials who used their knowledge, skills and positions to sustain brutal colonial systems in places like Congo could as well be said to be people who were simply doing their jobs. They were collaborators. They became active participants in systems of oppression. Their education and professional abilities did not make their service neutral. In some cases, those very abilities made the system more effective. This is why Raymond’s decision deserves more thought than the easy solidarity and congratulations it has received. And before anyone accuses me of making false equivalences, I have interviewed former victims of the basement, wives of political prisoners and children of missing parents. What I have heard and seen is ugly by any reasonable standard. So, when I speak about the nature of the state, I am not speaking only from political theory. I am speaking from what Ugandans have and continue to experience. But this is not really about Raymond as a person. I center him because he represents a particular class of Ugandan elites: educated, capable young people whose professional choices can have consequences beyond their own careers, especially within our current political context. There are times when the state and citizens are broadly pursuing the same interests. In such circumstances, serving the state can genuinely be public service. A diplomat representing Uganda, a civil servant administering public policy, or a technocrat managing a public institution can reasonably see their work as service to the country. But there are also moments when the state moves away from the people it is supposed to serve. At that point, you are not just serving; you are extending the state’s abuse. This is why the argument that “serving government is different from serving the state” is sometimes too clever. Yes, technically, they are different. The state is larger and more permanent than a particular government. Governments change; the state remains. But governments operate the machinery of the state. They appoint its officials, control its institutions and determine how its powers are exercised. And in Uganda, where the same political organisation has controlled the central government for almost 40 years, arguing that the distinction has much practical meaning is disingenuous. There is another argument I find equally unconvincing: that it is better to have intelligent people inside government than less intelligent people. But Uganda has never lacked educated people in government. Look at Parliament. Look at the civil service. Look at the number of people with master’s degrees, PhDs, and impressive professional backgrounds who have served the NRM government. After almost four decades, can we honestly say Uganda’s central problem is a shortage of intelligent people in government? I don’t think so. The problem is not a shortage of brains. It is what those brains are willing to do. This does not mean Raymond has suddenly become a bad person. He may remain the same decent and accessible person many people know. He may genuinely believe that he can do some good from inside. And there is a legitimate counter argument. What is the alternative? Remain on the opposition side, watch your career stagnate, struggle financially, and hope that your skills will somehow find a useful outlet? People have families. People have ambitions. People need to eat. That is a real dilemma. But that is precisely why these decisions matter. Sometimes you must choose between advancing your career and standing with a political cause you believe in. Sometimes you can have both. Sometimes you cannot. Raymond has made his choice. He is entitled to make it. However, he should also be allowed to own what that choice means politically. That is all I am asking. Do not ask us to pretend that shifting from being at the center of the People Power movement at its inception to now joining the establishment is simply a technical career move. Do not ask us to suspend our judgment because the person making the move is intelligent, charming, or professionally accomplished. This discussion is at the heart of what happens when an educated class begins to confuse professional advancement with public service. What happens when competence becomes more important than conscience and when the question “What can I become?” replaces the question “What kind of country am I helping to build?” We should not demand that everyone make the same choice. But we should demand that people make their choices honestly. Raymond may have chosen a career inside the system. That is his right. For the rest of us, we shouldn’t be blind to what that system is, what it does, and what his talents will now be used to accomplish. lawelfrayer253@gmail.com The writer is a Researcher with Agora Center for ResearchThe post Goodbye Raymond, but do not gaslight us appeared first on The Observer Media Ltd.