Museveni salutes UPDF soldiers Uganda has just come through another election. The Patriotic League of Uganda is already positioning itself for 2031. Muhoozi Kainerugaba is 52. Odrek Rwabwogo is being discussed as a possible political actor. Different people are already behaving as though the succession is the next great political question. Then Museveni reminds everyone that he sees himself potentially remaining part of the story for another 18 years. That does not necessarily mean he intends to remain President for 18 more years. His statement was about his life and his Pan-African mission, not an explicit declaration of another 18-year presidential term. But Ugandans know enough about Museveni’s politics to understand that that distinction is unnecessary. We surely ought to know that the man is never retiring, at least not voluntarily; to see himself alive for the next 18 years contributing to African integration efforts is to see himself still in power. His father, Amos Kaguta, died aged 96 in 2013. His uncle, young brother to Amos, who happened to be my village mate in Rubaya Kashari, Eriya Riisi, died in 2018 at 94 years. Compared to the life expectancy of the country, you can conclude that the man comes from a line of long lives; if you include the confidence in his nutrition choices and physical exercises, it would be difficult to convince him, or for him to convince himself, that at 100, he will be done and dusted. This, in part, explains his displeasure at Andrew’s critiques that seek to attribute his recent failures to age and fatigue. Speaking of Andrew Mwenda, and in light of this truth, one wonders what happens to all these succession calculations? Many of you have been immersed in discussing the next president, and how he transition is shaping up while forgetting that the current president is still here. This is where I find the excitement around the Muhoozi-Rwabwogo contest particularly interesting. I have argued before that much of this contest appears artificial. It may be politically useful to some people to imagine that two men are already positioning themselves for a great battle over Uganda, but Museveni remains the centre of the political system. I watched the recent scenes around Odrek Rwabwogo and his wife Patience’s appearance in court during his aide Mathew Bagonza’s hearing, and I found myself wondering how quickly Ugandans become fascinated by the theatre around power. People were analysing every movement, every appearance, and the first family relationships as though the succession had already begun. BUT WHY DO WE ASSUME THAT? If Museveni remains politically active, what makes us think he has suddenly become a spectator in a succession process he still has the capacity to shape? He has spent four decades building a political system around his authority. He knows its actors. He knows its factions. He knows the ambitions of the people around him. If he wanted to contain a political faction, he has demonstrated over many years that he possesses considerable institutional and political means to do so. The existence of competing centres of attention, therefore, does not automatically mean that the president has lost control of them. Sometimes what looks like disorder is simply what the person at the centre is allowing to happen, and for me, the 18 years, whether real or delusional, will be interesting. Muhoozi will be 70 if Museveni reaches 100. Odrek will be 75. A lot of things will change in that time. The economy will change. Technology will change politics. The relationship between citizens and the state will change. New political movements will emerge. Some of today’s powerful people will disappear from political life. Others we have never heard of will become important. Nobody can really predict what Uganda will look like in 2044; that is precisely why it is strange to behave as though the succession has already been settled. At least not from the Museveni angle. In other words, if it is to happen, it can only be by forceful means, either from within or from without. The PLU project may be real for the supporters. Many of them see themselves as preparing for the future. But that future depends on a political variable they do not control: Museveni himself. He has shown that he does not necessarily see political time the way the rest of us do. There is also a demographic irony here. Uganda is an exceptionally young country, with a median age of roughly 17–18 years. In 18 years, the young people who today constitute the country’s political future will be adults with very different experiences and expectations. They may not care about the political arguments we are having today. Definitely they won’t care about the old NRM-PLU succession debate. They may ask entirely different questions, and that is perhaps the uncomfortable lesson from Museveni’s 18-year announcement. We keep discussing who will replace Museveni as though the only question is who. If the when has been fixed a lot further, then everything changes, including the who will. If you are reading this article and saying more 18 years is delusional, you might want to know that when Museveni sat in Rwakitura and told the Kazooras that he would be here for 50 years, many did not believe it was possible. But now it is only 10 years left. lawelfrayer253@gmail.com The writer is a researcher with Agora Center for ResearchThe post Who told Ugandans Museveni was leaving appeared first on The Observer Media Ltd.