UNIVERSITEIT GENT

FACULTEIT POLITIEKE EN SOCIALE WETENSCHAPPEN

Museveni’s Wars

Military interventions as a tool of regime stability

Wetenschappelijke verhandeling

aantal woorden: 26967

Martijn Engels

MASTERPROEF MANAMA CONFLICT AND DEVELOPMENT

PROMOTOR: PROF. DR. Koen Vlassenroot

COMMISSARIS: DR. Tomas Van Acker

ACADEMIEJAAR 2015 – 2016

Inzagerecht in de masterproef (*)

Ondergetekende, …………………………………………………….Martijn Engels

geeft hierbij toelating / geen toelating (**) aan derden, niet- behorend tot de examencommissie, om zijn/haar (**) proefschrift in te zien.

Datum en handtekening

…………………………..16 Augustus 2016

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Deze toelating geeft aan derden tevens het recht om delen uit de scriptie/ masterproef te reproduceren of te citeren, uiteraard mits correcte bronvermelding.

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(*) Deze ondertekende toelating wordt in zoveel exemplaren opgemaakt als het aantal exemplaren van de scriptie/masterproef die moet worden ingediend. Het blad moet ingebonden worden samen met de scriptie onmiddellijk na de kaft. (**) schrappen wat niet past

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2 Abstract

Deze verhandeling zal aan de hand van de Oegandese militaire interventies in het buitenland onderzoeken op welke manier militaire ontplooiingen in het buitenland gebruikt worden als instrument in het versterken en stabiliseren van een semi-autoritair regime. Vertrekkend vanuit de vier belangrijkste contexten waar Oegandese troepen de laatste twee decennia hebben gevochten, meer bepaald Congo, Somalië, Zuid-Soedan en de Centraal Afrikaanse Republiek, zullen de belangrijkste voordelen voor het regime van president specifiek aan elke context worden ontbloot. Terwijl het theoretisch kader geconstrueerd is uit een kritische reflectie van de bestaande literatuur, is de hoofdmoot van de inzichten voortgekomen uit semigestructureerde interviews afgenomen tijdens een zestiendaagse veldwerkreis naar . Hiervoor werden parlementariërs, journalisten, onderzoekers en internationale vertegenwoordigers aangesproken. Drie verschillende voordelen konden worden geïdentificeerd: het beschermen tegen rebellengroepen door het uitbreiden van de strategische grenzen; het beïnvloeden van internationale donors om zo toegang te krijgen tot financiële steun en democratische speling; en het voeden van de patrimoniale machtsstructuur in het leger door bevelhebbers de mogelijkheid te geven tot exploitatie van militaire middelen en bezette gebieden. Recent blijken echter enkele tendensen een uitdaging te vormen voor deze voordelen. Een groeiende regionale integratie, het doorwegen van het democratisch deficit en een professionalisering in de legertop vormen meer bepaald de toekomstige uitdagingen voor militaire interventies als een instrument voor regime stabilisatie.

3 Table of Contents

ABSTRACT ...... 3 TABLE OF CONTENTS ...... 4 LIST OF ABBREVIATIONS ...... 5

1. INTRODUCTION ...... 6

1.1. ANALYTIC FRAMEWORK ...... 7 1.2. DATA AND METHODOLOGY ...... 10 1.3. SCOPE AND LIMITATIONS OF THE STUDY ...... 11 1.4. ORGANISATION OF THE DISSERTATION ...... 11

2. THREE BENEFITS FOR REGIME STABILITY ...... 13

2.1. THE PRINCIPLE OF STRATEGIC DEPTHS ...... 13 2.1.1. “CROSS-BORDER CLEANING UP” IN THE DRC ...... 14 2.1.2. ’S ‘BUFFER STATE’ IN THE NORTH: ...... 19 2.1.3. THE SECURITY RATIONALE IN SOMALIA AND THE CAR ...... 24 2.2. MANAGING DONOR PERCEPTIONS ...... 26 2.2.1. BUILDING UGANDA’S IMAGE: ‘THE WAR ON TERROR’ AGAINST THE LRA ...... 28 2.2.2. ‘SHOWCASE’ SOMALIA ...... 32 2.2.3. NEGLECTED EFFORTS IN SOUTH SUDAN ...... 35 2.2.4. MISADVENTURES IN THE CONGO ...... 37 2.3. NETWORKS OF MILITARY PATRONAGE ...... 39 2.3.1. SHADOW NETWORKS IN THE DRC ...... 41 2.3.2. MILITARY ENTREPRENEURISM AFTER THE DRC ...... 46

3. INTERVENTIONS AS A TOOL: RECENT CHANGES AND FUTURE CHALLENGES 52

3.1. REGIONAL INTEGRATION OF AFRICAN SECURITY ...... 52 3.2. GROWING IMPATIENCE WITH THE DONOR COMMUNITY ...... 53 3.3. A CHANGE OF GUARD IN THE MILITARY ...... 55

4. CONCLUSION ...... 59

5. BIBLIOGRAPHY ...... 62

4 List of Abbreviations

ADF: Allied Democratic Forces ADM: Allied Democratic Movement AFDL: Alliance des Forces Démocratiques de Libération AMISOM: African Union Mission in Somalia AU: African Union CAR: Central African Republic DRC: Democratic Republic of the Congo EASF: East African Standby Force EU: European Union FARDC: Forces Armée de la République démocratique du Congo FUNA: Former Ugandan National Army GoU: Government of Uganda ICC: International Criminal Court IFI: International Financial Institution LRA: Lord’s Resistance Army MLC: Mouvement pour la Libération du Congo MP: Member of Parliament NALU: National Army for the Liberation of Uganda NRM/A: National Resistance Movement/Army RCI-LRA: Regional Cooperation Initiative for the Elimination of the Lord’s Resistance Army RTF: Regional Task Force SFC: Special Forces Command SPLM/A: Sudan People’s Liberation Movement/Army SSDF: South Sudan Defence Force TCC: Troop Contributing Countries UK: United Kingdom UMLA: Uganda Muslim Liberation Army UN: United Nations UPDF: Uganda People Defence Force US: United States of America WNBLF: West Nile Bank Liberation Front

5 1. Introduction

On May 12, 2016, at his fifth Presidential inauguration on Kololo Independence Grounds, Ugandan president Yoweri Museveni boasted “Uganda had been at peace for the first time in 500 years, for many years now (…) Uganda will remain at peace”. Whereas domestically the country has indeed been at peace for some time; abroad, the Ugandan military was at the time of the inauguration engaged on two different fronts: in Somalia and in the Central African Republic. Shortly after the ceremony, on July 14, the Ugandan army crossed the border with South Sudan once more, marking the second Ugandan intervention in the country in five years. In the late 1990s, Uganda was internationally reprimanded for their two invasions into Congolese territories. These examples already refute Museveni’s claim as a bringer of peace. One can say that the will of the president is indisputably the key to foreign policy decision making in Uganda (Clark 2001: 263). Museveni is seen as a major believer in the notion that military instruments are the ultimate expression of a state’s willingness to pursue foreign policy. It was his eagerness to intervene military on foreign soil that has marked Ugandan foreign policy over the last two decades (“Uganda’s foreign policy should not revolve around the President” 2016). Whilst claiming to have brought stability to Uganda after decades of internal struggles, military operations appear to remain the core-business of Museveni. One can ascribe this eagerness to his history as a soldier or his military mind-set, but it could also be possible to discover a correlation between external operations and internal regime stability. Clark (2001: 67) has argued that “foreign policy making in central Africa can most usefully be explained as a direct out-growth of domestic political needs”, identifying the most important domestic political need as regime security. Victor (2010) continued on this line of argument by establishing how African military policy often is used more as a tool to promote regime security than as a response to national security threats. He added to this that “garnering and retaining the support of two groups can be essential to regime security. One group is the military (…) a second group includes major powers and donor states around the world”. Deploying troops to peacekeeping operations are a primary tool to garner and retain the support of both of these groups. In this dissertation, too, I tend to take the support of these two groups as essential to regime stability. But, while he limits his analysis to the utilisation of military operations as a sort of diversionary strategy, distracting both groups from the misrule of the leader, I will pursue a broader approach. Reno (2001: 147), too, went beyond peacekeeping operations as a distraction strategy by stating that Uganda’s president (and rulers in other states such as Rwanda and Angola) uses warfare in general to refashion his relation with a changing

6 global political economy and protect his regime. In this dissertation, expanding upon the case of Uganda and going beyond the advantage of distraction, I will argue that not only peacekeeping operations, but any military intervention can be – and is – utilised as a tool of pursuing the most important domestic political need, being regime stability. Taking advantage of Museveni’s eagerness for military deployment, this dissertation will explore the Ugandan military operations of the last two decades to uncover how foreign interventions are utilised as a tool to provide regime stability. I will argue that, in fact, every military deployment so far has been beneficial for Museveni’s position. Therefore, it could be possible to interpret and understand these interventions rather as a means for advancing personal security and regime stability than as defending national interests. One of the most obvious and common answers on how military expeditions provide domestic stability, is the simple idea that sending troops abroad keeps them busy, trained, paid, and out of the country. In the history of Uganda – or in most Sub-Saharan African countries, for that matter – guns and soldiers have always been involved in a transition of power. It is therefore quite acceptable that the leading regime simply does not want these soldiers lingering around their barracks with time on their hands, while there is hardly any work outside the army (“Why is Uganda fighting in ‘hellish’ Somalia?” 2012). Uganda’s heightened commitment to AMISOM, for example, followed shortly after the withdrawal of its troops from Operation Lightning Thunder in the DRC and South Sudan (Providing for Peacekeeping 2014). International funding of peacekeeping operations also provides a means to outsource the upkeep of a country’s armed forces. While a regular private in the UPDF earns around US$95 a month, a soldier embedded on a regional mission can earn up to an additional $US800 a month. Besides the fact that going on operations benefits the fighting capability and experience of any army, training and equipment is in most cases provided by external funding, such as from the US and the EU. This allows African countries to expand the capacity of their armed forces without touching upon their own financial resources. On operations such as AMISOM and the RCI- LRA, Ugandan troops are frequently rotated so that a larger segment of the armed forces benefit from external sponsored training programs (Shepherd 2015).

1.1. Analytic Framework

Besides the rather self-evident benefits of pacifying and developing the military, this dissertation will explore other, less apparent, but just as pertinent advantages for regime stability. Looking at the extensive literature on Ugandan interventions of the last two decades,

7 the incentives identified herein could be narrowed down to three main ways of how military interventions have benefitted the stability of Museveni’s regime. In this light, these three advantages have been adapted as parameters to determine how and to what degree military interventions could benefit the stability and security of a semi-authoritarian regime. First, Uganda is no exception when it comes to the proliferation of armed rebel groups in Sub-Saharan Africa. Indeed, since Museveni came to power in 1896, over twelve major and more than a few minor rebel groups have been fighting government troops (Tripp 2010: 153). In some cases, (such as ADF, WNBLF, …) these groups find the absence of a strong state in neighbouring countries, such as in the DRC or South Sudan, a welcoming environment to proliferate and regroup undisturbed by government forces. However, in as many other cases, these groups, as the FUNA or the LRA, are being actively supported by foreign governments (mostly by Sudan) (Prunier 2004). Relying heavily upon Prunier’s (2004), Ylönen’s (2014) and Clark’s (2001) interpretation of Ugandan interventions in the term of proxy wars, I will argue that, in order to protect itself from these threats, Uganda needs to expand its defence across its own borders. For this, I will introduce the concept of ‘strategic depths’ to the Sub-Saharan continent, a concept based on traditional realist geopolitical ideas of frontiers, territories, and strategic belts and widely used in describing Pakistan’s or Turkish foreign policy (Yalvaç 2012). Strategic depth is basically a military concept which refers to the distance between frontlines and the centres of a nation’s key assets. A nation's need for strategic depth arises out of its own threat perceptions towards its adversary and by the intention of the latter towards the former as well. In most of the cases, strategic depth is provided by a buffer state, a willing ally or a trustworthy friendly country, but occasionally it is also obtained through the conduct of effective international diplomacy and by forging good political and economic relations with other countries (Shukla 2011). This principle calls for an active engagement in the regional systems of a country’s neighbourhood, allowing us to explain the need for interventions as a domestic instrument (Murinson 2007). Second, as stated before, Museveni relies heavily upon foreign aid and international political leeway to sustain his regime. Whereas liberal economic reforms used to be an easy access point to these funds, growing scrutiny against corruptive tendencies have affected the attractiveness of this form of solicitation. Consequently, elaborating upon Reno (2012), I will demonstrate how regional conflict management has become one of the best ways to gain access to foreign resources to strengthen one’s own regime. Lynch (2006), Branch (2007), Mwenda (2012), and Hesse (2015) have already uncovered the correlation between Museveni’s interventions with a regional mediating purpose and an increase in donor cash flows. As argued

8 by Bayart (2000), African governments use their dependent relationship with external actors to ‘mobilize [regime maintenance] resources’, particularly international aid. Fisher (2012 and 2014) explored how Museveni’s regime, in fact, actively constructs donor perceptions and how this image management is aimed at depicting him as a ‘guardian of stability’ with the donor community. Because of his status as indispensable regional ally, donors have furthermore grown more tolerant to the regime’s governance transgressions, allowing Museveni to continue his personalised rule. Third, Tripp (2010) classifies Museveni’s Uganda as a semi-authoritarian regime, where power generally rests with the security forces. Despite being a civilian ruled state in name, the military exerts considerable behind-the scenes influence. Museveni’s relation with the elite members of his security apparatus are to be interpreted as neo-patrimonial relations, perceived by Bratton and Van de Walle (1997) as executing authority through personal patronage where the distinction between private and public interests are purposely blurred. As stated by Reno (2000), we can describe the Ugandan networks of power as a form of ‘shadow state’, defined as a form of personal rule; that is, an authority that is based upon the decisions and interests of an individual, even though formal aspects of government may exist. This form of patronage exists behind a façade of laws and government institution, but is also intertwined with it. The façade enables access and distribution of resources that allow the patronage networks to function and persist. Whereas, in the second chapter I will argue that managing donor perceptions gives access to foreign rents, military interventions can also directly provide access to rents, using it as a façade for illicit practices. Reno (1998), as well as Bayart, Ellis and Hibou (1999) identified such wars of predation and profit as ‘warlord politics’, that conflict and undermine the centres of power. In contrast, Vlassenroot, Perrot and Cuvelier (2012) have demonstrated how such networks of military exploitation are embedded in the political centres, and the generated resources are used for the strengthening of the domestic political regime. Perrot (1999) identified military commanders who have established such structures of opportunity as ‘entrepreneurs of insecurity’. These structures appear to include formal and informal elements that could best be described as militarised shadow networks forming an interconnectedness between state and non-state actors (Vlassenroot, et al. 2012: 3). Whereas the DRC constitutes an archetype of militarised shadow networks in the Ugandan regime (Ibid.; Perrot 1999; Clark 2001; and Tangri & Mwenda 2010 and 2016), this could be extended to other contexts as well. These scholars, as shown, tend to limit their analysis to just one of these three benefits or to one military context. This makes that, within the debate, there are contradicting opinions

9 on which of these three domestic motivations is dominant when it comes to the intervening military abroad. Consequentially, these opinions have never been thoroughly opposed or confronted to one another. In the first part of this dissertation, I will attempt to transcend the individual analytic frameworks and integrate them in one coherent narrative, distinguishing the specifics of each advantage. I will argue that in the three most distinct contexts in which the Ugandan military has been deployed the last two decades, being the Congo, South Sudan and Somalia, all of the three analytic advantages can be found, but in each context one appears to be dominant. For the sake of integrity, the CAR will not be excluded from this analysis. The three distinguished motivations are furthermore highly universal. As the extensive literature has already connected each of them within the broader debate of African statehood, it has provided us also with numerous other applicable contexts. Fisher (2013), for example, showed that utilizing the stability rationale as part of perception building in order to gain access to donor financing is also visible in Eritrea, Ethiopia and Rwanda. Because of the exemplary function of each of the contexts, and the universality of the motivations, this first part will provide a rather typological outlay of the domestic benefits of military interventions for a semi-authoritarian regime. In a second part I will confront the discussed advantages with current realities that have been observed in Uganda and Sub-Sahara Africa, and which seem to pose challenges and changes to interventions as a tool for regime stability. With this, I aim question the relevancy of the benefits for regime stability as derived from the literature for the future of Ugandan and Sub-Saharan military interventions.

1.2. Data and methodology

This dissertation draws on fieldwork data gathered by the researcher during a two-week stay in Kampala, Uganda in April 2016 – unless stated otherwise. Here, the main methodology was aimed at qualitative research in the form of in-depth, semi-structured interviews, which have been conducted with MPs, journalists, researchers and representatives of the international community. The selection of these correspondents was based upon either their proximity to centres of power, or their expertise on the Ugandan regime and military or on details of military campaigns. This amounted to a total of eighteen relevant interviewees, including people who have been embedded in Ugandan military interventions in the DRC, South Sudan and Somalia. Whereas the analytic framework provided the structural fundament for these interviews, the questions and scope changed during the fieldtrip, as more information was released. The information derived during the interviews was further confirmed and complemented with

10 newspaper articles, such as from the Ugandan based and the Observer. Through this primary data-gathering, I was able to further narrow down and refine the relevant aspects of previous gathered literature. For the first part, a critical appraisal of the rigorous academic research on Ugandan military operations and regime stability will form the fundament of analysis. This will be complemented with and touched upon fieldwork data, allowing it to transcend a mere summarization of the state of the art on Museveni’s regime. The second part will be based primarily and almost solely on fieldwork data and newspaper articles, since the existing literature has hardly touched upon the potential changes and challenges presented.

1.3. Scope and limitations of the study

Since the fieldwork has been conducted in April 2016, the dissertation’s main coverage will be from the period between 1986 and April 2016, i.e. from when Museveni came to power until the time of data gathering. However, in certain instances, events that have occurred after the terminus ad quem will also be included and mentioned for the sake of integrity, such as the July intervention of Uganda in South Sudan and the inauguration of Museveni in May. Geographically, this study will mainly focus upon Uganda and the presence of Ugandan soldiers in the Congo, South Sudan, Somalia, and the CAR. One major limitation can be found in the nature of the methodology. Since I hope to uncover high-level, mostly classified information using interview material, which is subjective in nature, it is rather hard to determine the viability of here claimed realities. Whereas for certain aspects, such as the Ugandan presence in the Congo, Groups of Experts and international courts have determined facts from fiction; for the larger part of the matters discussed, none investigations of such extent has been conducted. Another limitation is the absence of any military personnel as a source, which may seem rather strange in a study on military interventions. The hiatus occurred because of the limited scope of the fieldwork set-up, leaving too little time for an exhaustive examination of all relevant actors involved. The researcher is conscious that this study is subject to all mentioned limitations associated with the methodology, though efforts have been taken to minimise these shortfalls.

1.4. Organisation of the dissertation

The first chapter will explore the validity of the principle of strategic depths for the contexts in which the UPDF has been deployed during the last decades: starting with the DRC, to continue

11 with South(ern) Sudan, ending with Somalia and the CAR in tandem. The second chapter will corroborate upon the ‘image-building’ rationale. It will explore the participation of Uganda in the ‘global war on terror’, on its own terms. Then, moving on to the ‘showcase’ of AMISOM, the leading motives for Uganda’s presence in Somalia will be laid out. Further, it will touch upon the neglected stabilization mission in South Sudan of 2013 and the impact of the Congo Wars on Museveni’s image as a regional peacekeeper. The third chapter will elaborate upon militarised shadow networks of exploitation as part of foreign interventions, beginning with the most profound example, being the exploitation of economic opportunities in eastern DRC during both Congo Wars. Further, it will address how the use of such networks has changed after the Congo wars, while attempting to uncover cases of military corruption during the Ugandan interventions in South Sudan, Somalia and in the CAR. In the second part, the three above chapters will, respectively, be revised and re-evaluated in the light of current changes. In three chapters, I will argue that the ongoing integration of African security within the framework of the African Union or the East African Community will have a profound impact on the unilateral use of military force in safeguarding Ugandan territory from rebel activity. Second, since the last elections Museveni’s image as a donor-darling and regional mediator has taken some criticism, putting pressure on how Museveni will depict his future role in the region. Lastly, changes within the structure of the military and its ongoing professionalization will challenge the need for patrimonial resources to uphold Museveni’s domination.

12 2. Three benefits for regime stability

2.1. The principle of strategic depths

One recurring explanation given by the GoU for intervening military, is to the need to pursue rebel groups who pose a threat to the ‘national security’ and tend to thrive in the absence of state control in the regions neighbouring Uganda. The struggle between the Ugandan regime and such anti-government rebels were in most cases not contained within the country’s border, connecting its internal and external conflicts (Tripp 2010: 157). Since Uganda is not a very large country and Kampala is not all that far from its borders, in order to prevent these groups to threaten Uganda’s centres of power - or its population and territory - then, according to the principle of strategic depths, the lines of defence need to be imposed outside of their own territory (Interview MP, 29 April 2016). Since most of the groups threatening Uganda are actively sponsored by foreign governments and the regions Uganda’s rebels operate in are notorious for their absence of state control, a viable option is to conduct a military operation of its own to reduce this threat. Another highly used option is to sustain a competing rebel group as a proxy force, whose guns are aimed away from the border and can form a buffer against anti-Ugandan rebels or a friendly regime. Moreover, this principle can also be applied to the protection of economic interests. Most of the the informal and formal trade is conducted cross-borders, and especially the DRC and South Sudan markets are highly integrated in Uganda’s economy. Therefore, the regions in which they operate need to be stabilized. One cited reason by Museveni for plummeting into the first Congo war (1996-1997) was “to see that Congo is not unstable so that we can do business” (Quoted in Clark 2001: 249). From 1997 to 1998, however, formal trade remained low, while a flourishing informal and exploitive trade and export of gold emerged. However, the benefits of such a conflict-driven economy (see Vlassenroot et al. 2012) are limited to the privileged few. In contrast, informal and formal trade conducted in the absence of conflict are more sustainable and benefit the economy as a whole. A crisis in its neighbouring markets can greatly disorganize and disrupt Uganda’s economy. For example, Uganda’s trade with South Sudan has been grossed around $1,2 billion between 2011-2012. When the civil war broke out, this amount declined to a mere $100 million (Interview journalist, 18 April 2016). In contrast to other countries such as Kenia or Rwanda, where ‘trade follows boots’, the economic benefits for Uganda can be understood as passive and lies in the prevention of economic loss from crises in neighbouring countries (Interviews with MPs, April 2016).

13 Keep in mind that I by no means argue that strategic depths are not the only and most viable explanation for military interventions, it is merely the most common explanation given by the GoU. Even though it definitely does not uncover the whole pallet of motivations, it must not easily be discarded as a mere ‘cover-up’-type of explanation. The following chapter will inquire into its viability.

2.1.1. “Cross-border cleaning up” in the DRC

When in 1996 Rwandese troops, in cooperation with Ugandan troops, began its operations in Zaire against militias and soldiers who had participated in the 1994 genocide and in support of the AFDL led by Laurent Kabila, Uganda took advantage of the general conflagration to do, to use Prunier’s (2004: 374) words, “its own bit of cross-border cleaning up”. Indeed, Khartoum and Kinshasa sponsored rebel groups had been using the eastern Congolese regions as their primary base of operations, from where they conducted incursions into Uganda. From the mid- 1980s, a revival of the Bakonjo rebellion, originating from the struggle for autonomy by Bakonjo and Baamba ethnic groups in the western Uganda Rwenzori region during the 1950s, was supported by President Mobuto and President Moi of under the new label of the NALU (Prunier 2004: 368). The rebels were based in eastern Congo in Kivu from where they carried out attacks on government officials in Kasese. In 1994, the WNBLF was formed and started, with Sudanese help and Mobutu’s approval, harassing Ugandan forces from the Zairian side of the border. Other forces operating against Uganda at that time were the FUNA, derived from the remnants of Amin’s forces, the anti-Museveni UMLA and the Baganda ADM. However, beside this proliferation of rebel groups, the “cross-border cleaning up” that was the pretext of the 1996 Ugandan intervention was mainly aimed towards the ADF, which was born that same year out of a Khartoum-supported fusion between the ADM and the UMLA, topped-up with ex-members of Rwandan militias and incorporated within the remnants of NALU, to give it grounding in the local realities. After the ADF became operational in November 1996 with its first large scale attack killing 50 people in the Kasese district (“Zairean troops attack Uganda” 1996), Uganda joined the fray in eastern Zaire and supported, whilst attempting to regain control of it western border, the march of the AFDL unto Kinshasa. This intervention and the support to the AFDL was further motivated by Museveni’s long standing wish to get rid of Mobutu, whom he saw as a great danger to the security of Uganda for supporting anti-Uganda rebels, and to the region as a whole. (Prunier 1999 and Clark 2001). With the aid of his Rwandan and Ugandan allies, Kabila managed to defeat Mobutu’s forces,

14 captured the capital in May 1997 and was made the head of the renamed DRC one month later. Being heavily indebted with his former allies, the new president permitted Ugandan and Rwandan troops to conduct operations in eastern DRC in further pursuit of the militias who had threatened their countries and to hunt down former Rwandan génocidaires. Shortly after his rise to power, Kabila and Museveni signed a ‘Memorandum of Understanding’, providing for joint operations of the UPDF and the Congolese military. In April 1998, this arrangement was further formalized with a Protocol on Security along the Common Border (Vlassenroot, et al. 2012: 6; Clark 2001: 271). This Tri-country alliance was rather short-lived. In the spring of 1998, the Ugandan- Congolese relationship already started to deteriorate. Inspired by fears of a Rwanda led coup d’état and in search for a local power base, Kabila urged on July 27 all foreign troops to leave the country within two weeks. The Ugandan and Rwandan troops only retreated partially from the eastern regions and re-entered the country in full force just six days later. Uganda’s initial charge against Kabila was that he failed to provide security along the border. For this reason, the UPDF needed to intervene since ADF rebels were still using the area as a staging ground for attacks in Uganda. It is not clear if Museveni was accusing Kabila of outright support for the rebels, or of mere incompetence in failing to prevent them from operating out of the Congo (Clark 2001: 272). There has been much dispute over the interpretation behind Uganda’s involvement in the second Congo War. Prunier (1999: 44) argued that the nature of the Ugandan intervention proves that security reasons were not Museveni’s main goal. The fact that the UPDF was deployed more than 1,000 kilometres from the front in Kisangani, supporting Bemba’s march unto the capital, without this improving the security situation in south-west Uganda, is first- hand evidence that Kampala had other goals. Clark (2001: 273) also found the Protocol on Security from April 1998 and the ‘Memorandum of Understanding’ as evidence that the UPDF was already allowed in Congolese territory and could certainly have crossed the frontier in pursuit of rebels without engaging in an all-out war. He further argues that the intention of creating a safer Uganda by removing the root of the problem, i.e. Laurent Kabila, is based on the misassumption that the new leader put in place would desire to safeguard Uganda’s security and would have the capacity to do so. It is doubtful if a successor would be able to exercise control over the eastern regions and sympathise with Uganda’s security concerns, since he would be worrying in the first place about his own domestic position. Security is, in fact, by no means the sole and best explanation for Uganda’s presence in the DRC, since these incursions were rather characterized by ‘elitist networks’ embedded in the

15 higher circles of political and military power, plundering Congo’s natural resources, including President Museveni’s own brother and the head of the UPDF expeditionary corps James Kazini (Vlassenroot et al. 2012). However, this does not mean that we can simply discard the security impetus. During the second Congo War the country was partitioned into four sections, each under control of different rebel groups, with the west controlled by government forces. The groups controlling the areas most suitable for launching incursions into Ugandan territory, were, in effect, rebel groups backed up by Uganda (Tripp 2010: 173). Still, in the meantime, the ADF, the very reason Museveni justified its second incursion into its eastern neighbour, heightened its attacks on Ugandan targets. For instance, between 1998 and 2000 attacks carried out by the group killed over 1,000 people and displaced 150,000 (ICG 2012). Despite this failure, the initial efforts of Uganda’s incursions can still be framed within the principle of strategic depths. With the first intervention, it seemed Museveni wished to extend Uganda’s strategic border westwards in an attempt to displace the core of rebel movement out of its own territory and to regain control of its troublesome western border. As noted by Lynch (2006) Museveni’s long term strategy during both wars was a stable DRC that permitted prosperity, at least in the areas near Uganda. This strategy did, however, fell short in the durable pacification of the border region, as is visible in the unceasing streams of extreme violence that still afflict the area. It is beyond doubt that the presence of the UPDF was a major contributor to this persisting violence. This lack of a sustainable security can be ascribed for a large part to the short-sightedness embedded in the nature of the Ugandan military intervention and, most of all, to its exploitive nature. A good illustration of the Ugandan approach, and its shortcomings, was the attempt of James Kazini to set up a new province, Ituri, out of the part of Orientale province that bordered Uganda. Kazini utilised the historically rooted power struggles between local Hema and Lendu communities to take control over this part of the DRC (Fahey 2016). The UPDF started to provide security services for Hema elites, which allowed the emergence of an Hema politico- economic power base. Kazini further consolidated this partnership by appointing a Hema as the governor if the newly created Kabale-Ituri province. According to Vlassenroot, Perrot and Cuvelier (2012) this was a “personal decision taken by Kazini as part of a larger strategy to install an alternative power structure under his protection.” That this decision was mainly motivated to control transborder trading networks, only confirms the idea of a strategic extension of Uganda’s border outside of its own territory. The eastern Congolese market is in fact closer connected to Kampala than it is to Kinshasa. However, Kazini’s efforts of exploiting the ethnic tensions that existed long-time before his arrival in the region, only created an even

16 more explosive and nervous situation. It left the region shimmer in ethnically motivated killings, armed competition over the rich natural resources and the fractionalization of local politics into armed groups (Fahey 2011). The signing of the Luanda agreement in September 2002 on the withdrawal of Ugandan troops out of DRC’s territory and the effective return of most of the seven thousand soldiers in May 2003 did not mark the end of Ugandan interference in its eastern neighbour (Tripp 2010:176). Fahey (2009) rightfully concludes that Uganda has maintained a strong political and economic involvement in eastern Congo since 2003. Instead of maintaining an ‘official’ military presence in the DRC, Kampala now supported (open or covert) various Congolese armed groups. Uganda’s involvement was both active, by directly supporting armed groups, and passive, by allowing militia leaders to roam freely in Kampala and violating UN arms embargos. Whereas the situation before the Congo wars was the other way around, with mainly anti-Ugandan rebel groups being supported by Kinshasa or Khartoum, since the start of the Congo wars, it was Kampala who was dealing the cards. Also in the post-conflict era, Uganda kept the upper hand in the controlling eastern Congo. The UN Group of Experts reported, for instance, that after the official withdrawal of troops, transfers of funds were made from the Ugandan Office of Presidency to armed groups in Ituri, and arms and military supplies were being provided to these groups in a coordinated and institutionalized way (Tripp 2010: 176). Tellingly in this instance is the case of the M23 rebels, which have been formed in the spring of 2012. The UN Group of Experts (2012) condemned, later that year, senior officials of the GoU, but also the Rwandan authorities for supporting the M23 “in the form of direct troop reinforcements in Congolese territory, weapons deliveries, technical assistance, joint planning, political advice and facilitation of external relations.” What is more, Ugandan and Rwandan forces jointly supported M23 in a series of attacks to take over major tows and bases of Congolese armed forces. A later report continued to state “UPDF commanders sent troops and weapons to reinforce specific M23 operations and assisted M23’s recruitment and weapons procurement efforts in Uganda” (“The Hidden Hands Behind Congo’s War 2013). After the military defeat of the group in 2014, most of the members found refuge with their former patrons (UN Group of Experts 2014). However, this support must not be seen as an extension of official policy guidelines, nor must it be exaggerated. It must rather be interpreted on the same level as the informal networks in which UPDF commanders operated during and after the Congo wars. Still, the fact that the support happened covert and informal does not mean that it would not have received endorsement and approval from the higher politico-military circles in Kampala (Interview MP, 28 April 2016).

17 It should further be mentioned that, during this period, two anti-Ugandan rebel groups were still present in the north-eastern part of Congo. The first was the ADF, which was still operational and targeting both Ugandan and Congolese targets; while MONUC (later MONUSCO) and FARDC operations dislodged and weakened the group, but never managed to fully defeat them. The second was the LRA, who had entered the DRC in the course of 2005, being pushed by the UPDF and the SPLA out of Southern Sudan (Fahey 2006: 358 and UN Group of Experts 2015). Their presence made Joseph Kabila, who succeed his father, actually invite Ugandan forces to engage in a joint operation. This is why, in late 2008, the Ugandan army officially re-entered DRC with about 1,300 troops for Operation Lightning Thunder against LRA encampments in het Garamba National Park. In theory, this was to be a joint military operation, with participation from Uganda, Southern Sudan, the CAR, and the DRC. In practice, however, it turned out to be a UPDF-only venture (Titeca & Costeur 2014: 99). The operation was said to be a success, even though it did not accomplish its goals whilst leaving elements of the group scattered but organized enough to retaliate with a new massive killing spree at the end of 2008. After the operation, claiming its success, the UPDF made a some ‘show’ leaving the DRC in March 2009, but an informal agreement allowed Ugandan forces to retain a limited presence (Fahey 2006: 363 and Tripp 2010: 177). This limited presence turned out to be an estimated 3,000 troops. The Congolese government later accused the UPDF of keeping the LRA deliberately alive, by supplying the rebels and staging supposed LRA attacks, as an excuse to maintain a presence in the country. This is why, from October 2011 onwards, no more UPDF elements were allowed on Congolese territory anymore (Titeca & Costeur 2014). However, this prohibition does not mean that Uganda will stop pursue its security interests across its own borders. A prominent member of the Ugandan political opposition (FDC) summed up Uganda’s strategic interests in the DRC pretty accurate: “The problem with the DRC is that it is a very large country that is under no administration of state. This allows a lot of warlords to roam there. Uganda is supporting some of these, for reasons of security and economic interests. eastern Congo is a big trading partner for Ugandan, that is why Uganda supports the warlords there, to keep this market open and connected to Uganda. If Museveni is not in charge in this area, rebel groups that oppose Uganda would start operating there. So he supports other groups to keep them out. Museveni will therefore never really leave from eastern Congo” (Interview MP, 28 April 2016). Thus, while the security rationale is very much applicable to Congolese context, it can be argued if unilateral military interventions are the best way to tackle this issue, nor does it pose a satisfying explanation for the all the aspects of the

18 Congolese adventures of the UPDF. It provides an account, in combination with the alliance with Rwanda, for the initial impetus. However, as stated by Clarke (2001), it does not provide a satisfying answer for the continuing presence and interference of UPDF segments throughout the 2000’s. For this, the explanation must rather be sought in the resource-rich the eastern Congolese soil.

2.1.2. Uganda’s ‘buffer state’ in the north: South Sudan

The NRM has long viewed Sudan as the most significant foreign threat to its rule and the security of Uganda (Interview professor , 19 April). According to Clark (2001: 266), the long politico-military confrontation with Sudan dates at least to 1988. Prunier (2004) confirms that Khartoum’s efforts at helping anti-Museveni forces already started in the early days of Museveni’s reign, by fuelling the resistance from the defeated Acholi. He further argues that most of the eastern Congo medley can be seen as a proxy war extension of the Ugandan-Sudanese dichotomy. It is true that most of the anti-Museveni rebel groups operating in this area before the Congo Wars were organized and armed by Khartoum. Already in the 1980’s, the Sudanese government supported members of the Muslim based Tabliq sect in their struggle against the discrimination of Muslims in key political positions. After their radicalization and flight to Western Uganda, the Tabliq started with presumed support of the Sudanese government to attack the Uganda regime. After being expelled in 1995, they found refuge in eastern Congo and walked into Sudanese Army Security Services (Titeca and Vlassenroot 2012). After this encounter, the Sudanese made efforts to revitalise the beaten Ugandan Muslims by sponsoring its fusion with the ADM and the NALU marking the birth of the ADF (Lindemann 2011). This antagonism between Khartoum and Kampala is mainly inspired by the anti- SPLM/A policy adhered by Al-Bashir, who since long maintained the view that Museveni was key to the SPLA’s survival. When he came to power the Sudanese regime was immediately persuaded that Uganda would become a rear base for the rebel movement. Ugandan support for the South Sudanese independence struggle was, however, fairly non-existent until 1993. The SPLA did not really need any aid from Uganda at the time, since it could rely on support from Ethiopia. It was only after the movement lost their Ethiopian assistance during the 1990s, that Museveni pledged to fill this gap (Ylönen 2014: 105). Before this turn of events, Museveni was extremely careful not to antagonize Khartoum and only resorted to helping the SPLA because of his earlier policy of non-interference had failed to produce results. Other explanations, such

19 as the theory Museveni and John Garang, the SPLA’s leader, were old university friends from the Dar-es-Salaam University, are simply untrue (Prunier 2004: 364 and interview professor IOB department, Antwerp, 1 March 2016). They had attended the University in different years and had hardly known each other during the short period they had been there together. Another theory of Museveni’s Uganda as a Western supported buffer against a militant Islamic Sudan, that, in a future, was planning an Islamization that would reach the Great Lakes, is equally mistaken. The perpetual and costly harassment of the Ugandan regime would hardly be based on such unrealistic projects; not when the Sudanese regime first and foremost had to deal with its own revolting southern province. Still, the circulation of these theories could only contribute to the further deepening of Ugandan-Sudanese relations. Uganda’s 2013 intervention in South Sudan was, indeed, mainly for reasons of security. Despite first denying Uganda’s role in the South Sudanese Civil War, claiming the only reason the UPDF deployed in the region was to protect and evacuate Ugandan citizens living there, Museveni ‘revealed’ after one month Uganda’s combat role in South Sudan (“Uganda Denies Troops Supporting South Sudan Leader” 2013 and “Museveni reveals Uganda combat role in South Sudan” 2014). Ugandan troops turned out to be there – as was suspected – to prevent Riek Machar, the former vice president, from overthrowing the current president Salva Kiir. This, for the obvious reason that Museveni simply did not trust Machar as the leader in-between Kampala and Khartoum (Interviews with journalists and MPs, April 2016). While Museveni retained a close relationship with Kiir after Garang’s death in 2005, he remained distant from Machar who had defected already in the 1990’s from the SPLM/A. Later, Machar was picked up by Khartoum and placed at the head of the Sudanese backed SSDF to fight against his former comrades (Ylönen 2014). He did become vice-president when South Sudan gained its independence in 2011, after having re-joined the SPLA/M in 2002. The relationship between Machar and Museveni further deteriorated after the Juba peace talks between the Ugandan government and the LRA in 2006-2008, in which Machar played the role of mediator. While these peace talks failed, they also gave Kony the room to escape from the grasp of the UPDF. Allegedly, Museveni lays the blame for both deplorable outcomes with Machar (Interview journalist, 18 April 2016). Furthermore, history has proven that the northern parts of Uganda are easily mobilized against Kampala. It was for example no secret that the LRA rebellion was being sponsored (not conceived, despite other similar attempts. See Prunier 2001) by the Sudanese government. Given Uganda’s porous northern border and the close ethnic and lingual ties between the Ugandans and Sudanese living on opposite sides of

20 this border, it is not an ill-founded fear that northern resentful sentiments can be raised by a Sudanese initiative (Interview journalist, 18 April 2016). Given the tense relationship between Khartoum and Kampala, it is thus understandable that Museveni rather would prefer a leader in South Sudan which he can trust. To say it with the words of a journalist: “An allied South Sudan keeps the Arabs in check” (Interview journalist, 18 April 2016). Members of the Ugandan Parliamentarian Committee on Defence and Internal Affairs could only confirm South Sudan being de facto ‘buffer state’ for Uganda’s northern border. (Interviews with MPs, April 2016). Furthermore, Museveni’s only increased his grip on Kiir after the latter had to rely on Ugandan troops to bail him out (Interview professor Makerere University, 19 April 2016). Even though the Ugandan troops officially left South Sudan at the end of October 2015, it is very probable that they retained some presence around Juba and Bor (“Last UPDF Battalion Leaves South Sudan” and interview journalist, 26 April 2016). It must furthermore be kept in mind that the UPDF also has a foothold in Yambio, where the headquarters of the RCI-LR are based. Uganda did have a serious intention of regaining and keeping stability in South Sudan. Indeed, “if there is no peace in South Sudan, you cannot except peace in Uganda” (Interview journalist, 26 April). In a way, the relation with South Sudan can be in many aspects be compared to the one with eastern Congo. A destabilized South Sudan would mean another safe haven for Ugandan rebels. During the 1990’s and early 2000’s, Uganda’s biggest threat, Joseph Kony and the LRA, used the region as a way to evade Ugandan forces. The fear was thus real that, if Uganda did not interfere in 2013, Kony could return and resume his reign of terror over northern Uganda. Not interfering would, moreover, generate a new and massive influx of Sudanese refugees in the country. (Interviews with MPs, April 2016). The seriousness of the Ugandan efforts in keeping this ‘buffer’ stable and friendly, can be derived from the nature of troop deployment. While the crisis broke out in Juba on December 15, 2013, the UPDF set up operations in the country only three days later. The imperative of this response is visible in the absence of a parliamentarian approval or debate prior to the decision of interfering (interview journalist, 26 April 2016). Only on the 22nd did the parliament convene for a first time to discuss the matter, and a month later the discussion still lingered on about the potential ‘illegality’ of the deployment, until it was finally okayed on January 14 (“Ugandan Parliament okays troop deployment in South Sudan” 2014). This adds to the interpretation that the decision of interference was mainly inspired by a personal motivation of Museveni (Interview professor IOB department, Antwerp, 1 March 2016). This commitment is further visible in the high quality of the troops deployed, such as elements of the SFC, led by skilled commanders, such as Colonel Kayanja Muhanga (Interview PhD researcher, 19 April

21 2016). In addition, the regime allowed the mission to put a great strain on the Ugandan treasury (“The cost of war: Uganda borrows to fund its military in South Sudan” 2014). Due to the impulsiveness of the mission, Uganda did not have a proper exit strategy for the mission. This is why they stayed much longer and spend much more than anticipated (Interview PhD researcher and MPs, April 2016). Furthermore, in contrast to official statements, the UPDF did not retain itself to peacekeeping and rear-guard purposes, but engaged actively in offensive military operations on the side of the SPLA (Ylönen 2014: 104). Schomerus (2012) noted the UPDF already being unofficially deployed in southern Sudan throughout the 1990’s. From 1996 onwards, sightings of UPDF in Eastern Equatoria became more regular. During this time, the UPDF was helping SPLA soldiers with intelligence or providing all-out offensive support in their struggle for an autonomous South Sudan, such as during the 1997 battle of Yei, when the Ugandans helped capturing the town of Kaya and supported the SPLA’s incursion with machine guns positioned at Koboko Mountain. In the meantime, Ugandan forces where mainly engaged in fighting the LRA, as at the Achwa River near Nimule from 1995 to 1996. This twin-approach of both supporting the SPLA whilst fighting the LRA, was the result of the proxy war (Prunier 2001) raging at this time between Khartoum and Kampala. However, in 2002, on the back of the Nairobi agreement and in a moment of détente (or, in an attempt to reconcile with the US, since the LRA was placed on the list of terrorist organizations in 2001), the Khartoum government allowed the UPDF to conduct military operations against the LRA on Sudanese soil. As a result of this agreement, Ugandan troops dispersed across the Equatorian provinces, where they remained after the Sudanese mandate had expired in early 2006. This controversial was based on an informal arrangement between the semi-autonomous Southern Sudan, Kampala and the DRC to jointly fight and further pursue the LRA rebels (“Southern Sudan signs military presence agreement with Uganda, DR Congo” 2007). The agreement allowed for the 2008 Operation Lightning Thunder, further facilitating the UPDF’s freedom of movement in an area stretching across DRC, Western Equatoria and the CAR (Schomerus 2012: 128-129). This agreement was in March 2012 adapted to an AU framework, marking the birth of the RCI-LRA, giving a stronger legal credibility to Ugandan military presence in sovereign territory (“AU pushes regional leaders to hunt LRA” 2012 and interview MP, 24 April). There is a great difference between the nature of this first intervention stretching from the 1990’s until the late 2000’s and the second between 2013 and 2015. Whereas the latter can be described as impulsive, but highly organized, conform AU regularities, with a clear purpose

22 and executed in a disciplined manner by well-trained troops; the former was characterized by atrocities against civilians, long-lasting, chaotic, resource-grabbing and troops of dubious quality. A prime example of this last remark is the 105th battalion, comprised of former LRA fighters and without clear command structurers, using rebel tactics and notorious for their raiding and plundering of Sudanese civilians. Whilst Museveni had the ambition of conceiving a stable sovereign South(ern) Sudan led by an allied SPLM/A and decapitating the LRA, the sentiment in 2006 among the Sudanese population was strong that the UPDF presence was undermining Sudan’s fragile peace, as confirmed by Schomerus (2012). The presence of the UPDF added yet another armed group to a region already burdened by perpetual conflict. In the light of a short-term solution to Ugandan insecurity, it is clear that the first intervention was proof that Uganda was trying to move its battlefield against the LRA to Southern Sudan, as the border had been sealed to assure peace in Uganda, while nurturing the birth of a Uganda-friendly buffer state between Kampala and Khartoum. However, in terms of long term security of their strategic hinterland, the first Ugandan intervention only contributed to its further destabilization and. In contrast to the DRC expedition, the continued presence of Ugandan forces in southern Sudan in search for the LRA can in fact best be explained in the lines of security; or at least the pretence of providing security for a domestic, as well as an international audience. The persevering efforts of hunting down LRA forces and to aid an independent South Sudan had a profound impact on the international reputation of Uganda as a buffer against Islamic fundamentalism and an ally in the ‘War on Terror’, as will be elaborated upon below. For the second expedition in 2013, then, the nature of this intervention can only point towards a security-driven rationale behind the impulsive, and necessary, decision to help out their northern ally. The fact that Museveni wanted to keep the real reason behind his troop deployment quite, debunks the idea that his initial aim was to reach an international audience, despite later efforts to do so. With the recent outbreak of violence in Juba after clashes between the bodyguards of Machar and Kiir in May 2016, Uganda repeated its 2013 intervention by immediately dispatching troops to the region under the pretext of evacuating its civilians and after a formal invitation of Salva Kiir. Furthermore, military officials made no secret of remaining in Juba to support the government of South Sudan (“Ugandan army crosses into S Sudan to evacuate citizens” 2016). These perpetuated efforts confirm the value Museveni assigns to having a stable and allied South Sudan as an extended strategic border of Uganda.

23 2.1.3. The security rationale in Somalia and the CAR

It must be said that other imperatives than the security appear to be more convincing for the Ugandan presence in Somalia and in the CAR. It can hardly be argued that Uganda experienced a pertinent security threat from either country. However, Uganda has invoked security concerns as a principal motivation for their deployment, obliging us to explore the validity of these intentions (Providing for Peacekeeping 2014). This is why, in this chapter, we only pay brief attention to these two interventions. One commonly heard interpretation is to curb the proliferation of small arms and light weapons in the region. More specifically, it is said that the Karamojong region in north-eastern Uganda derives most of its small arms from networks based in the lawlessness of Somalia (Interview former director EASF, 24 April 2016). However, despite being indeed a notorious centre of the illegal (arms) trade in the region, relatively few guns currently come through this route since it appears to be very costly and offers outdated guns. Whilst Somali traders do play an influential role, the main source of small arms proliferating in north eastern Ugandan seems to lie in the borderlands between Kenia, Sudan and Uganda (Mkutu 2006 and Interview European military attaché, 27 April). Another common narrative is situated in the ‘Global War on Terror’ framework. “Uganda is involved in Somalia to ‘nip the bud’ of African terrorism”; to destroy and neutralize the terror at its source before it becomes a bigger problem. It can be argued that Somalia is, indeed, only a day’s distance from Kampala, so that a collapsed Somalia could form a potential threat to Ugandan security (Interview former director EASF, 24 April 2016). However, to paraphrase Fisher (2012), Uganda’s deployment of its soldiers to Somalia is as much about ‘securing agency’ for Kampala in its international relations as it is about pursuing a noble AU objective. While Uganda may have a sincere interest in a secure Somalia, this must rather be interpreted within a framework of regional integration (Interview EU official, 27 April 2016). However, it seems that the overriding imperative for engaging in AMISOM lies within the realm of accessing and managing donor resources (Hesse 2015); as will be further explored below. As the CAR is concerned, the first and foremost reason UPDF battalions are operating here is because the dense central African jungles have become the newest hideout for the LRA after the 2008 operation in Garamba National Park. Uganda is deployed there as part of the RCI-LRA, looking the give a final blow to Kony’s militias. Insofar the LRA has mostly been scattered and disorganized due to the constant pressure, the group does not pose a menacing

24 threat anymore. This is why, given the atrocities committed in northern Uganda, the continued hunt has become more of a moral obligation for Museveni, than a protective measurement.

25 2.2. Managing donor perceptions

Foreign aid has since longtime been a major pillar of Museveni’s regime. During the 1990s around 50 percent of the government’s budget was funded by its development partners (Fisher 2012: 406). Between 2002 and 2007, budget support in form of direct transfers from international donors1 have been totaled between $600 million and $1 billion a year (CSIS 2011: 8). William Reno (2000) found external resources, such as official aid, best suited to resolve the dilemma of every Shadow State; the choice between gathering resources and asserting control without expensive bureaucracies. On the one hand, foreign aid has enhanced the popular authority of the regime, for example by providing social services, such as education, health care, and infrastructure. On the other hand, this aid may also end up as a source for sustaining the patronage basis of the regime (Tangri & Mwenda 2005: 453 and Reno 2012: 180). Whereas official aid in exchange for diplomatic support has been a prominent source of such an external income during the Cold War period, liberalized economic regulations became the primal driver of donor countries from the 1990s onward. (Reno 2000: 454-455). To ensure this inflow of indispensable external resources, it is thus essential for Museveni to maintain good relations with the donor community. This is being achieved by Museveni in two ways: accepting various liberalizing donor-sponsored reforms and presenting himself as a key ally for Western policy makers in the Great Lakes region. Despite the enduring corruption, and despite its poor record in democratization and alleged involvement in human rights abuses in the north of the country, the regime has received little more than muted criticism and temporary part-diversion of aid thanks to its image management. This in contrast to stark ultimatums and cutting in aid to African governments involved in similar activities, such as Ethiopia, Malawi, Zanzibar and Kenya, to name a few (Fisher 2012: 407). Being one of the IFI’s credible ‘showcases’, which allows the donor community to defend their economic adjustment programs for the rest of Africa, Uganda managed to escape this gulf of developmental criticism. Together with Rwanda, it has indeed known some great economic successes since the implementation of the structural programs. Pleased with such progress, foreign donors were often willing to overlook the less democratic aspects of Museveni’s rule (Harrison 2001: 672-3 and Tripp 2014: 181-191). The last few years, however, donors have gradually become more aware and sensitive of the abuses occurring in the public sector and have been pressing for more transparency in

1 The major players are here: the IMF, the World Bank, the United Kingdom, The Netherlands, and the Scandinavian countries. The United States does not provide foreign assistance via budget support, so we must assume the total amount of foreing support is much higher.

26 foreign funded public institutions. Because of this growing interference, economic reform programs seem to have lost some of their attractiveness as a solicitation tool for foreign aid. (Tangri & Mwenda 2006). Consequently, focusing upon the second image of an island of stability has growingly become more important. This evolution, including the growing support from Western donors for regional peace initiatives, makes Reno (2012) to argue that “participating in regional conflict management has become one of the best ways for African governments, whether they face direct threats from conflicts or not, to gain access to international resources to strengthen their own authority”. And indeed, some of Uganda’s interventions can be easily understood in the light of this rationale and may have been willingly manipulated to sustain this image of Uganda as an ‘guardian of stability’. Relying heavily upon Fisher’s (2012) argumentation, the proposed headline here is, that because of its usefulness in other areas, donors have grown more tolerant to the regime’s governance transgressions. Despite the obvious abuse of external support, donors have not wanted to undermine a government which they have held up as one of the most successful in Africa. Next to this, the view of Uganda as an ‘island of stability’ in a highly volatile region and its perceived importance as a regional peacekeeper and as an ally in the ‘global war on terror’, has also been put forward to have contributed to the generous tolerance of donors. A commonly heard comment from Western officials residing in Kampala is on the important role of the UPDF in the region. They tend to accept the “necessity of Uganda in the region”, and because of this, other flaws and abuses of the regime may be overlooked. Sometimes, the proposition that military operations can be part of a strategy to deliberately influence donor perceptions is simply rejected, by ascribing the interventionist nature of Museveni to other factors such as his military background (Interviews with EU officials and military attaché, April 2016). The Museveni regime has, in fact, played a key role in the construction of these donor- focused perceptions. To quote Fisher (2012: 410): “donor perceptions should be understood as the product of a sociological process of knowledge construction that over time has led donor officials to perceive the regime according to certain overarching narratives”. It is tellingly that Museveni’s regime has spent over $1 million annually on consultancy and lobbying firms in Washington, D.C. and London (Hesse 2015: 332). Fisher (2012: 412) rightfully concludes his argumentation “the ultimate purpose of Ugandan image management has been regime maintenance”. This way, Museveni has been able to retain international support while evading donor governance conditionality’s that threaten to undermine the patrimonial base of his regime. Still, not every Ugandan policy decision must be seen with this image management in

27 mind. As will be further argued below, some actions, including foreign interventions – such as the much-criticized excursions in Congo – have done Uganda’s reputation as a guarantor of regional stability more harm than good.

2.2.1. Building Uganda’s image: ‘The War on Terror’ against the LRA

The proclamation of the the ‘Global War on Terror’ after the attacks of September 11, 2001, gave Uganda a blunt instrument to gather international recognition and support for its ongoing interventions into its neighbor’s territories. While previously depicting the LRA as ‘criminals’ and ‘bandits’, Kampala swiftly adapted its narrative after the 9/11 attacks towards the new international climate by including the rebel group as a ‘terrorist menace’ (Fisher 2013: 549). By request of the GoU, both the LRA and ADF were included on the list of terrorist organizations published by the US government on December 5, 2001 (“Terrorist Exclusion List” 2001 and Schomerus 2014: 128). Weeks after 9/11, Museveni had already linked the LRA to Al-Qaeda, a connection that he elaborated upon during his 2003 US trip, telling his audience at the Council on Foreign Relations that the LRA and ADF “have been trained by Al-Qaeda” (Quoted in Fisher 2013: 553). The ‘War on Terror’ only strengthened the relation between the UPDF and the US, who, according to Lynch (2006), had already found in Museveni a ‘natural ally’ in the Great Lakes region since the Clinton administration. The war against the LRA in the wake of 9/11 provided Museveni with a means to re-assure and reinvent this position as America’s key ally, resulting in a new influx of significant amount of US military aid and diplomatic support (Branch 2005: 3 and Tripp 2014: 171). The US gives an estimated US$750million in aid to Uganda annually, of which an estimated US$170million goes to military assistance and cooperation. In the past 10 years, the US has trained more troops from Uganda than from any other country in sub-Sahara Africa - with the exception of Burundi. (“It’s time for the U.S. to rethink its approach to Uganda” 2016). Prior to 2001, Uganda had already been promoting itself, especially towards the US and the UK, as an important African ally against the spread of ‘Islamic extremism’ (Fisher 2013: 413). This depiction was mainly focused on Khartoum as a ‘bulwark’ promoting ‘Islamic extremism’ throughout Africa, with Uganda acting as a ‘frontline state’ against Sudan’s terrorist activities. As argued above, this narration of a militant Islamic threat originating from Khartoum played only a minor role in the Ugandan-Sudanese antagonism, which was hardly based on a religious divide. Some fighters of the LRA, despite being a Christian group in name, merely converted to Islam and took Muslim names in exchange for serious military aid enabling

28 them to start their reign of terror in northern Uganda (Prunier 2004). However, the narrative of a militant Islam was highly enthralling for US and UK officials, and thus greatly emphasized by Kampala. In 1996, the US government began to give Uganda, Ethiopia and Eritrea annual military aid for their role as ‘frontline’ states. Furthermore, the US and UK governments used their influence over the IFIs and the donor community to support Uganda’s demands for an increase in defense spending (Mwenda, 2010). After the 1998 bombings on US East African embassies, which showed links to the regime in Khartoum, Washington declared Sudan a ‘supporter of international terrorism’, strengthening the perception of Uganda as a buffer. From the 1990s until the mid 2000s, the reaction from the international community on how Uganda dealt with its problems in the north have been quite ambivalent. On the one hand, there was above mentioned support, but, on the other hand, there was also a great deal of criticism. These critiques tended to place emphasis on how Uganda deliberately maintained an instable situation in its northern regions and across the border in Southern Sudan for its own ends. Some international NGO’s, such as Amnesty International tried to grab the world’s attention on the human rights abuses and atrocities against civilians committed by UPDF soldiers (Fisher 2013: 548). In contrast to Museveni’s preferred military response to the conflict with the LRA, and in broader terms, in Southern Sudan, donors tried to push – rather uninspired and negligent, but probed by NGOs such as Resolve – for a settlement of the conflict via peace negotiations. Still, according to one analyst, Uganda’s major donors in general adopted what he described as a ‘Museveni knows best’ approach’ (Fisher 2014: 691). All in all, this inconsistent approach allowed Museveni to uphold quite unopposed the crisis environment in order to increase funding and diverge foreign aid to the military (Tripp 2014:171). However, the pressure did compel the president to at least pretend to make an effort for settling the conflict through peace talks, which he then willingly undermined by proposing ultimatums, unconditional surrender and demonizing Kony (Fisher 2014: 691). The ambivalent attitude of the international community changed after the Juba peace talks between Kampala and the rebel group collapsed in 2008. The reality of this breakdown, which was largely ascribed on the account of the LRA, rendered peace negotiation an unviable option and made the alternative, military option only more credible. While the GoU did as much to thwart the negotiations, it managed to frame the outcomes to its own advantage, partially by paying a Washington based lobby firm $75,000 to publicize the government’s commitment to peace. In the meantime, Uganda took consultants under its wing, to lobby for a military solution (The Global Intelligence Files 2012). Organizations, such as Human Rights Watch, Resolve, the ICG, and Enough, who had previously been advocating a legal solution to the conflict, now

29 changed stance and argued strongly for continued US support for a military pursuit of the rebel group. (Fisher 2014: 695). Underlining this approach was the 2008 US decision of declaring Kony a “Specially Designated Global Terrorist” and the 2012 Invisible Children’s campaign “Kony2012” which aimed solely at continuing US support to Ugandan troops (Schomerus 2014: 144). This changing attitude was translated in a seemingly unilateral militarized approach to the LRA problem, starting with the 2008 Operation Lighting Thunder. Being the first publicly- acknowledged US Africa Command (AFRICOM) operation, the US provided the training and US$1million in financial support. Despite the severe civilian casualties (1,000 people killed and up to 200,000 displaced), and its failure to cause a final blow to Kony, Resolve, Enough and Invisible Children continued lobbying in congress for a renewal of the military efforts (The Global Intelligence Files 2012). Between December 2008 and November 2010, the US provided the UPDF with logistical and intelligence support worth more than US$23million. In the following years, the Ugandan army gathered international support for its operations against the LRA in Southern Sudan, DRC and the CAR, despite further evidence that the UPDF’s approach included civil abuses and resources exploitation – an aspect that was totally absent in the Invisible Children campaign. Ugandan officials managed to counter any criticism by legitimizing its actions within the context of the ‘War on Terror’ (Ibid., 145). In 2011, Obama announced to allocate about 100 military advisors to help fight the LRA, several months after Uganda had faced international criticism for official mistreatment of the opposition during an electoral campaign (Reno 2012: 180). In that same year, Uganda received almost US$470million US foreign aid (Miller 2011). In the meantime, the GoU emphasized to its domestic audience that the LRA threat had largely been defeated. Addressing European donors, too, they hardly mentioned Kony as a threat. Indeed, after 2008 the rebel group was hardly to be called a serious danger to regional security and especially no direct threat to the Uganda anymore. Therefore, it can be argued that the Ugandan military approach had its successes in the long run (Interview professor IOB department, Antwerp, 1 March 2016). One of the reasons why the UPDF is still hunting down the LRA in the difficult conditions of the Central African jungle, is the savagery he has committed in northern Uganda, which has been spread out by media towards the rest of the world. This hunt has therefore turned in somewhat of a personal feud of Museveni to make the statement that such crimes do not go unpunished. Furthermore, the UPDF is the only army in the region perceived to be capable to conduct such an enduring and harsh operation; if

30 somebody needs to apprehend Kony, it must be the Ugandan military. (Interview European Military attaché and European officials, April 2016). However, towards other representatives of the international community, mainly of Anglo-Saxon origin, Museveni’s regime portrays the situation quite different. Focusing upon the ‘terrorist’ image of the LRA, it was still depicted as a danger to the entire region, and must be dealt with as such. Uganda kept dealing with the LRA and upheld this imagery of a perennial danger, in fact, mainly towards US policy makers and donors. Indeed, for Uganda the LRA issue was not security related anymore, but rather a means to strengthen its relations with the US and provided the UPDF with a legitimate reason to pursue operations in the region. Since the late 2000’s, the US has been providing aerial intelligence out of Entebbe in the search for Joseph Kony, facilitated transportation of Ugandan troops, embedded military advisors and supplied the UPDF with military equipment (Miller 2011). After 2010, the GoU even decided not to provide a budget for operations against the LRA anymore. Echoing Titeca & Costeur (2015:108), this decision can be explained by the fact that it enabled the GoU to pressure the US for greater financial support to finance the operations. In the end, Uganda no longer saw the LRA as a threat, but kept using its reputation as a foreign policy tool to advance its geopolitical interests. The geopolitical use of the LRA culminated in the formation of the RTF of the RCI- LRA in 2012 - a de facto Uganda led hunt in the CAR, in collaboration of small segments of the SPLA and the FARDC on their respective territories. In reality, the launch of the RTF made little difference to the realities in the field, since Uganda already had 1,500 troops deployed in the CAR, and each segment follows order from its own hierarchy (Shepherd 2015). The biggest difference, however, was visible in the budgetary and logistic aspect, with the operational costs of this task force covered by the EU, amounting to almost €2million annually for staff allowances, costs of the HQ in Yambio, communication equipment, etc. (APF 2014). While the transportation, training and intelligence is provided by the US. In 2013, Obama extended the deployment of the 100 military advisors for another full year, reinforcing them with an additional 150 troops along with military aircrafts the next year (Forest 2014). Thus, while pursuing a necessary and noble cause in the eyes of both donors and the Ugandan population, Museveni could polish its image as a regional peacekeeper and access foreign funds for its military without worrying about an imminent threat to its regime or the costs. Recently, UPDF spokesman Paddy Ankunda declared that “Uganda had met its goal in the fighting against the LRA”, since the rebel group posed “no longer a threat. The LRA has been degraded, they no longer have means to make war”. However, another reason for

31 Kampala’s decision was added: “international support has not been enough” (“Uganda set to pull troops out of C. Africa- army” 2016). Thus, after having depleted international attention and resources towards the mission while fulfilling their moral duty towards the Ugandan population and themselves, Museveni and the high command decided to declare the LRA officially dead.

2.2.2. ‘Showcase’ Somalia

Since the collapse of Said Barre’s regime in 1993, no institution or group has been able to exercise effective control throughout Somalia. The absence of something similar to a functional government has made policy-makers in the US and UK increasingly concerned of the security risks emerging from this stateless society. In the aftermath of 9/11, failed states, such as Somalia, became the number one security concern for the international community for being perceived as a ‘free breeding zone’ for terrorist organizations. The emergence of the Union of Islamic Courts, an Islamic coalition aiming to bring order to Somalia, which steadily extended its control over south and central Somalia in 2006 and the subsequent radicalization of this coalition by external and internal dynamics, marking the birth of Al-Shabaab, intensified these Western fears. When AMISOM was deployed to the country in March 2007 in the aftermath of the Ethiopian military campaign, Museveni was the first to commit his troops. Despite being shipped to “one of the most difficult theatres in the history of modern peace operations”, Uganda, together with Burundi, who joined ten months after the start of the mission, were the only TCCs – and the most generous – to carry the mission for nearly four years. In fact, within the East African community there was very little spirit to come forward and support the mission (Williams 2013). Uganda remained the largest TCC throughout the whole current duration of the mission, providing for almost 30 percent of AMISOMS’s total military personal, or 6,223 troops as of August 2015. Uganda confirmed this leading role by hosting the AU summit of July 2010 in Kampala, just a few months after the Al-Shabaab World Cup bombings in the Ugandan capital. The ‘All-Somalia’ agenda of this summit upped the AU’s engagement towards battling terrorism in Somalia and changed the face of the mission from a reactive peacekeeping force towards a peace-enforcement force, allowed to conduct pre-emptive strikes (“Kampala blasts thrust Somalia top of AU summit agenda” 2010). While the motivations of Burundi, being the second contributor with over 5,000 troops, can be narrowed down to the integration of its newly formed armed forces, existing of former

32 combatants from rivalling ethnic groups into a coherent national army (Hesse 2015); similar motivation cannot be found in Uganda’s eagerness, since its forces had already seen a lot of action as a collective force. Museveni’s eagerness can more likely be ascribed to the international fear of a ‘terrorist-led’ Somalia. “Museveni knew terrorism was a global issue, Somalia would have given him international relevance” (Interview journalist, 18 April 2016). Maintaining domestically that the intervention was premised on considerations closer to home, internationally Museveni depicts its intervention in Somalia as part of its continuing efforts to fight global terrorism. A letter by the Whitaker group, Uganda’s major lobbyist group, towards the Bush administration prior to the conception of AMISOM mentioned that the Ugandan leader “would like to talk to [Bush] about (…) a policy aiming at keeping Somalia out of terrorist hands” (Quoted in Fisher 2012: 417). Indeed, many correspondents mentioned “to be in good books with donors [US]” as the main reason why Uganda went in (Interviews with journalists, MPs and researchers, April 2016). The effectiveness of this strategy can be seen when Reno (2012: 180) states that “US aid to Uganda is widely seen as a ‘thank you’ to President Yoweri Museveni for participating in a war against Somalia’s Al-Qaeda-aligned Shabaab militants.” From the United Nation, The Uganda Air force has been given a $US2,5 million war chest for expenses during the Somali mission. However, these funds appear not have been used the way intended, such as for the purchase of new aviation material, but are suspected to have disappeared in a corruptive military scheme (“Why Museveni fired Rwakitarate” 2012). Not only the US and the UN, but also the UK and France provided various bilateral support packages to the TCC’s (Williams 2013). ‘Being in good books with donors’ not only means financial support, but also provides a form of ‘leverage’ in dealing with international actors (Reno 2012: 179). Uganda deployed in Somalia in 2007, a year after Museveni was elected after abolishing presidential term limits. International actors criticizing over the closing of domestic political space and Ugandan military involvement in Congo, have indeed been more hesitant since this deployment (Providing for Peacekeeping 2014). After the 2012 UN Group of Experts report accused senior Ugandan officials of providing assistance to the M23 rebel group in DRC, Security Minister Mukasa announced Uganda to “withdraw its forces from UN-backed international missions”, emphasizing on Uganda’s leading role in the AMISOM mission (“Uganda to withdraw its troops from Somalia, says Mukasa” 2012). This decision echoed a warning that Uganda would weaken its resolve to keep several thousand troops in Somalia, after a similar report accusing Uganda’s army to have participated in war crimes during their stay in Congo in the 1990s (Reno 2012: 179). By linking such accusations to his leading role in Somalia, Museveni forced donors

33 to view the issue through the lens of their longstanding commitment and willingness of providing for regional security (Fisher 2013: 554). None of the donors wanted to jeopardize Uganda’s involvement in Somalia over this issue, because “the mission would simply collapse without it” (Interviews with European officials, April 2016). This necessity to rely upon Uganda for assistance on resolving regional security problems put Museveni in a very strong position towards the donor community. Consequently, the second Group of Experts report on Congo, released in 2013, noted it had found “no indication of support to rebels from within Uganda since 2012” (Fisher 2013: 554). Also on the domestic level did Somalia give Museveni leeway to pursue an autocratic course. As noted by Fisher (2012: 420) “Uganda’s presence in Somalia made it ‘more difficult [for donors] to criticize’ the Museveni regime for domestic transgressions.” Recently, when Burundian president Nkurunziza was condemned for human rights abuses and violent oppression of the uprising against him running for a third term in April 2015 and the subsequent coup d’état, leaving more than 400 people killed, the donor community cut on the financial aid on which the regime heavily relies, to force the president into talks with his opponents. European policy makers further threatened to redirect its funding to the Burundian contingent in Somalia, so the money would no longer be channeled via the government, and the 20 percent kept by the state, worth about $13 million a year, would be scrapped (“EU takes aim where it hurts Burundi: peacekeeper funding” 2016). Similar suppression of the political opposition and human rights abuses have been common in Uganda. The death of over 20 people by security forces after the ‘Buganda riots’ (“Royal riots expose Uganda tensions” 2009) or the brutal crackdown of the peaceful ‘Walk to work’ demonstration in 2011, are just some examples of a recurring phenomenon (Human Rights Watch 2011). In contrast to Burundi, these abuses have only provoked muted criticism and temporary redirection of small segments of foreign aid. The international appliance of the Somalia mission was recently reconfirmed with the great commotion that arose after the EU announcement to diminish its contribution for the troop allowances. From the beginning, the operation relied heavily on external contributions from the EU and the US. The latter foresaw most of the equipment, training and logistical support, while the former provided for the monthly allowances for uniformed personnel, trained programs and other related expenses via the African Peace Facility (Williams 2013). Of these allowances, 20 percent (or $200) is already being withheld by the GoU to cover ‘preparatory training expenses’. But from the 1st of January 2016, the EU decided to apply an 80 percent ceiling on this contribution for troop allowances (“Ugandan MPs worried over slashed Amisom pay” 2016). Before this decision was adequately communicated, uproar broke out in the Ugandan

34 political society questioning the solidarity of the EU towards the ‘sacrifice’ of Ugandan soldiers to uphold security in the region and the short-attention span of Western policy makers. They exclaimed how this decision would “jeopardize the entire mission, because of the demoralizing effects of reduced allowances on the soldiers” (Interviews with MPs, April 2016). However, European solidarity had not disappeared at all. In fact, the EU had increased its contributions for African-led peace operations with €150 million in 2015. Some weeks later, the EU ambassador ratified their decision by referring to the upsurge of conflict across Africa and the growing demands from ongoing and new peace operations, such as against Boko Haram in the Lake Chad Basin (“Let’s be proud of our joint efforts to bring peace to Somalia” 2016). This episode affirms how much Uganda’s commitment into Somalia is determined by the perception it leaves on the donor community. It is questionable the lower allowances would jeopardize any aspect of the mission, since they were even lower only three years ago. The fuss was therefore mainly aimed at re-attracting the attention of the donor community towards Uganda as an ‘indispensable ally in the region’. A former director of the EASF declared “We are not in Somalia to do a favor to ourselves, but to do a favor to the world […] Uganda should not thank the international community [for supporting the mission], the international community should thank Uganda for keeping the region safe” (Interview, former director EASF, 24 April 2016). The willingness of Museveni to deploy its troops across the continent is a well-known fact within the donor community. Donors openly admit that they have to rely on the Ugandan army for security actions in the region, since “there are not many competent armies in the East-African region, and you are forced to collaborate with the few that are” (Interview with European officials, April 2016).

2.2.3. Neglected efforts in South Sudan

The 2013 Ugandan intervention in South Sudan was primarily motivated by a desire of eliminating the threat of an unstable and hostile northern neighbor. However, from the beginning, Museveni and the GoU tried to lay the motivational focus of this intervention in the more humane and altruistic inducement of protecting their own civilians and preventing a potential genocide. It is true, that ethnic identity entangles many of South Sudan’s issues. The conflict that emerged in 2013 could indeed have escalated into a violent episode of genocidal proportions, on the same scale as the Rwandan genocide or worse (“Tragedy Averted: On Uganda’s involvement in South Sudan” 2014). Keeping the feeling of guilt in mind that dictated the international community’s flow of aid towards Rwanda after their failure to prevent the

35 Rwandan genocide, one can easily guess the relief and gratefulness felt for the Ugandan intervention. This is why this inducement is still widely maintained and emphasize by Ugandan officials when asked about their presence in South Sudan. (Interviews MPs, April 2016). The intervention was indeed praised initially for stemming potential genocide. There was also a great sense of understanding within the international community for the Ugandan efforts of keeping South Sudan stable. But, because of Uganda’s meddling in South Sudanese politics and propping up President Kiir, the question of national sovereignty soon dominated the debate (Interview European Military Attaché, 27 April 2016). In response, the Ugandan regime upheld the legitimacy of their intervention: in line with the regulations of the AU, Kiir initially posed a formal request for support to secure the capital and assist the SPLA, giving Uganda a legal base to enter the country (Ylönen 2014). However, instead of withdrawing within the stated 45 days, the UPDF stayed until late 2015, violating these regulations. This, and the fact that the UPDF participated in offensive operations, rather than maintaining the peacekeeping purposes for which they were meant to be deployed, raised suspicions over their involvement into the domestic politics of their northern neighbor (“UPDF troops leave South Sudan” 2015). These violations and the holiness of state sovereignty made it rather difficult for the international community to praise the Ugandan intervention for their role in stabilizing South Sudan and preventing it from escalating into worse. A member of the Ugandan Committee on Defense and Internal Affairs maintains that Museveni did not care for the opinion of the international community towards his intervention in South Sudan. According to him, “Uganda does not care what the international community says, we look at the constitution of the African Union and when it says they are allowed to enter, we enter” (Interview MP, 29 April 2016). Indeed, this mission was initially and mainly prompted by the strive for national security, disregarding largely international opinion. But the many efforts of Museveni and Government officials to stress the humanitarian aspect of preventing a genocide, reveals the effort and hope of using this intervention, too, as a tool of managing donor perceptions. The same committee member once asked Museveni, concerning their interventions into neighboring countries: “Nobody appreciates what we are doing, why don’t we leave things and let them go bad for once, so they will have a better appreciation for our efforts”, to which Museveni answered: “Even if they [the international community] do not appreciate it, we must do it (…) There are only dead heroes” (Interview MP, 29 April 2016). Previous examples of Museveni’s attempts of framing most of his decisions in order to satisfy donors, render this statement quite redundant. In the South Sudan case, Museveni seemed furthermore quite bothered that he not openly received the credit he deserved for keeping a

36 potentially disastrous situation in check, despite the high level of appreciation and understanding for what he has done (Interview European Military Attaché, 27 April 2016).

2.2.4. Misadventures in the Congo

Both incursions into the Congo posed some challenge to Museveni’s image as a regional peacekeeper. Uganda’s involvement resulted in substantial negative international media coverage and criticism (Fisher 2013: 551). Moreover, links between Ugandan soldiers and the illegal exploitation of resources, and the consequent ‘Kisangani wars’ between Rwandan and Ugandan soldiers in 1999 and 2000 over the control of the informal trade of natural resources in the region, deemed the UN to condemn their presence as ‘illegal’ and ‘alarming’ in a 2002 report (Vlassenroot, et al. 2012 and Fisher 2013). In the consequent years (2009, 2012 and 2013), UN reports repeated their concerns over the devastating impact of the Ugandan presence in Eastern DRC, whether they were conducting illegal exploitation of resources, raising ethnic tensions (between the Hema and Lendu in Ituri) or facilitating the formation of rebel groups (M23, MLC) and militias, who were allowed to engage in looting and rape. These accusations, reinforced by other international NGO’s (ICG 1999, 2001, 2007 and 2013) and numerous violations of international law, including the training of child soldiers, led to growing criticism from donors who started to perceive Museveni’s regional behaviour as destructive rather than supportive. Especially the US, who had hoped to make Uganda the centrepiece of its African Crisis Response Initiative, made a sharp turn in its position towards Uganda by suspending all military aid during the Congo Wars (Clark 2001). In public, however, the critique by UK and US officials was limited to feeble diplomatic pronunciations expressing their discontent over the intervention or addressing the ‘complicating effects’ of Uganda’s involvement. Between 1997 and 2001, senior donor officials travelled regularly to Kampala to privately proclaim their fears over the intervention and its destabilizing consequences. These meetings culminated in the 2001 statement by newly elected US president George W. Bush, insisting on an immediate troop withdrawal (Fisher 2013: 552). UK and US officials were, however, not really opposed somebody dealing with the Mobutu and Kabila regime, they rather disagreed with the means to do so. According the Clark (2001) and Lynch (2006) the greatest fear of the US and Britain was Uganda becoming intertwined in an unwinnable war – ‘Uganda’s Vietnam’, so to say – jeopardizing the goals donor officials had in mind: Uganda as their first ally in the Great Lakes Region. The course chosen by Museveni posed a serious threat to the donor narrative that had supported

37 international assistance to the regime in the previous decades (Fisher 2013). But, as stated by Lynch (2006: 113), by sending his own troops into the DRC in both the Congo wars, Museveni demonstrated his independence from US policymakers towards his own citizens and the world. While continuing to rely on US aid, Museveni had proven himself to be not a mere lap dog of US foreign policy. As with previous interventions, Museveni attempted to legitimize the Ugandan presence in eastern Congo by adapting it towards Western discourses. During the first Congo war against Mobutu, the presidents of both Rwanda and Uganda reiterated that the threat of terrorism and a pending genocide had caused them to intervene (ICG 1999: 8). After managing to include the ADF on the Terrorist Exclusion List in 2001, Museveni elaborated upon this narrative by aligning the rebels with al-Qaeda and proclaiming eastern Congo as a ‘safe haven’ for terrorists. By focussing upon the ties between Congo-based rebels, including the ADF, and the ‘terrorist bulwark’ Khartoum, Ugandan officials sought to fortify this interpretation with donor officials (Fisher 2013). In the second Congo war, too, prevention of genocide was being proclaimed as a reason for intervention (Clark 2001 and ICG 1998). In order to fully integrate the presence in Congo into his image as a regional mediator, Museveni further emphasised Uganda had simply joined regional coalitions and was now implementing international agreements in order to establish peace and security in the Congo (Fisher 2013: 553). Despite these attempts for international legitimation, international as well as domestic pressure persisted and forced the GoU to negotiate its withdrawal from Congo in 2002 (Fahey 2009: 352). However, despite this storm of criticism, donors appear to have left such accusations quickly behind and continued to support Museveni throughout the 2000s and 2010s. In 2011, the climate had already changed entirely, with Western donors praising the president’s engagement in ensuring the stability of the Great Lakes region in Africa, including his moves to safeguard the stability of Eastern Congo (Fisher 2013: 554). While he himself tried to bend the criticism for his actions in Congo into a force propelling his reputation by speaking the language of the donor community, it was mostly his position as donor darling that gained him political protection from meaningful international penalties (Fahey 2009: 345). The need for a strong and reliable ally in a delicate East African region thus overcame the international consternation for the Ugandan misbehaviour in DRC, which therefore only caused a minor and temporary dent in his reputation as a regional mediator.

38 2.3. Networks of Military Patronage

While Uganda is de facto no longer a military regime insofar as the military does not exert control over the state, Museveni’s power base still lays with the military (Tripp 2010). Museveni came to power in 1986 thanks to his military movement, after a long guerrilla bush war against Obote’s forces. From that point onwards, the military has remained a pillar of his power, with the UPDF originating out of his own NRA and the political and military spheres closely intertwined (Perrot 1999: 60). The military mind-set that formed the genesis of Museveni’s regime is still quite present in the president’s line of thought and in the rest of the Ugandan political system (Interviews with journalists and European official, 27 April 2016). The army being an instrument to Museveni’s hold on power, is asserted by his claim that he, and only he is able to control the army. During every election so far, the military has come out and proclaimed they would not accept any other military commander. Keeping in mind that the military has been an agency of insecurity throughout the history of Uganda, this claim holds quite some preponderance. Chief of Defence Forces, General once said: “you cannot promote anybody past the rank of captain, this can only be done with the permission of the commander in chief”. It sais something about the distribution of power in the army that even the highest military officer cannot promote commisioned officers (Interviews with journalists and professor Makerere University, April 2016). The influence of the military is further confirmed by the frequent appointment of military personnel in key ministerial or civil service positions; or, at the time of the 2006 elections, in the police or in the media. The constitution ensures that, at all time, ten representatives of the UPDF must hold parliamentary seats, who are not allowed to take public positions on controversial issues and are thus expected to defend Museveni’s position. (Interview researcher, 18 April 2016). An additional thirteen seats are to be allocated to National Resistance Council members, i.e. veterans from the bush war. These appointments are meant to integrate the military into society and blend military institutions with administrative ones in order to create an image that the military is part of the society rather than dominating it. It is, however, widely being regard as evidence for the militarization of the Ugandan civil service (Tripp 2004: 7 and 2010: 142). In Uganda, like in most semi-authoritarian regimes, personal clientelistic-based patterns of rule form the basis of political relations, with an executive holding the preponderance of power. Here, patronage resources are distributed along lines of ethnicity and region (Tripp 2004: 5). After the takeover, a large contingent of the NRM/A that helped Museveni gain power

39 were given parliamentary seats, as well as high positions within the military. Most of these ‘historicals’ originated from the same ethnic group as Museveni (the Bahima), or were in one way related to the president. So that in 1986 the military high command was made up primarily of bush war veterans originating from the west of Uganda like Salim Saleh, Fred Rwigema, David Tinyefuza, Kizza Besigye, Kahina Otafiire, and others (Tripp 2010: 63). Even now, 75% of the 23 top positions in the army are held by officers from western Uganda, together with a fair part of Museveni’s relatives and in-laws, including, amongst others, his younger brother Salim Saleh, his eldest son Muhoozi Kainerugabe, and his cousins Sabiiti Magyenyi and Bright Rwamirama (Bareebe 2012: 26-28). The genesis of this Ugandan ‘shadow state’ must be found in the personal networks and hierarchy that established Museveni’s NRA/M prior to 1986 during the bush war period, and have persisted ever since (Interview with journalists, April 2016). In order to maintain the integrity of his Movement, Museveni needed people he could trust, and at the time he could only trust his family or members of his own tribe. In contrast to what authors like Lindemann (2011) argue, the connection between the people who hold effective power during the dawn of the regime, was therefore rather based upon trust than upon ethnicity (interview researcher, 18 April 2016). The ‘historicals’, who formed the network of trust that allowed the 1986 coup d’état found themselves as shareholders in Museveni’s project. While Museveni took most of the credit, they, too, had risked everything for the Movement. Museveni claimed the first price as president and ‘bringer of peace and stability’, but the others who fought alongside him nursed a sense self-entitlement to a piece of the cake. Thus, after claiming his position, he needed to reward their loyalty with high-ranking government and military positions which gave access to public resources. Echoing Dorman (2006: 1097), the “access to spoils is thus controlled and centralised”. Another form of ‘leverage’ these ‘historicals’ have regarding Museveni is their knowledge of the undefined atrocities committed by the NRA in order to win their struggle. (Interview MP, 28 April 2016). Former general Kahinda Otafiire once stated that if he should talk about these episodes, he “could cause a lot of trouble.” This is why, despite him having fallen out of grace with the president on several occasions, he was still to be appointed Minister of Justice and Constitutional Affairs after the 2016 elections (Interview journalist, 25 April 2016). It is therefore that, in the case of Uganda, I tend to follow Chabal & Daloz (1999: 162) view on Museveni’s regime: “Some, like Museveni, may well have a relative modest personal need for the status for Big Man and may genuinely aim to transcend the short-term view in favour of longer-term goals […] but are trapped in the patrimonial state.” In order to uphold

40 this patrimonial state, Museveni needs resources to distribute amongst his clients. Promises made to fighters during the struggle must be met, and while the state prioritises the demands for meeting development goals, resources must be found somewhere (Dorman 2006: 1097-98). In the military, too, one of the main ways how loyalty is maintained is through patronage (Tripp 2010: 143). In fact, military corruption has been one of the principal ways since the late 1990s to distribute and access resources of patronage, which is being used to maintain the NRM regime in power and remove the claim of the opposition over the military as an instrument of power. Tangri & Mwenda (2001: 546) remarked that “it was president Museveni who was responsible for permitting an environment to emergence conducive to much military corruption by a handful of his relatives and supporters”. Indeed, domestically, the late 1990s and 2000s have been characterized by a serious number of military corruption cases surfacing regarding the procurement of military goods and services.2 Not only on the domestic front, but also abroad were UPDF commanders and soldiers involved in cases of military corruption – and sometimes on an even more criminal manner than in Uganda.

2.3.1. Shadow networks in the DRC

In 2001, a UN Panel of Experts accused Rwanda, Zimbabwe and Uganda of systematically and illegally exploiting diamonds, gold, coltan, timber and other valuable natural resources from eastern DRC. They also accused Uganda for using security concerns as a pretext for continued control over parts of the Congo to access these resources. (Tripp 2010: 174). As a state, it is far from clear that Uganda has experienced a net economic gain from this involvement in the DRC, providing the large costs that accompany a military operation of such scale (Clark 2001: 276). In contrast to Rwandan forces, who were looting as an institution – as one country – Uganda’s involvement appears to have been limited to individuals and specific networks (Interview MP, 28 April 2016). It is, furthermore, challenging to put forward economic interests as the initial impetus for the UPDF to go to war in the DRC, given their apparent initial lack of enthusiasm about intervening. According to Clark (2001: 278), one senior Ugandan military official

2 For an exhausive list of the military corruption cases that plagued the Ugandan army between 1990s and 2003, see Tangri, R., & Mwenda, A. M. (2016). Military Corruption & Ugandan Politics since the Late 1990s. Review of African Political Economy, 30(98), 539–552.

41 claimed that Museveni actually had to convince a reluctant high command to go along with the 1998 invasion. He suggests that while some officers were engaged in profitable business, such opportunities were not necessarily on their mind at the time. Indeed, in the first intervention the economic aspect remained an epiphenomenon and helped Uganda to finance the war. The main incentive here must be seen along the lines of internal security, regional dominance and alliance dynamics with Rwanda (Vlassenroot, et al. 2012: 7). For the second intervention, however, was the dissolution of the alliance with Kabila and the subsequent second intervention rooted as much in securing the Ugandan borderlands as in the protection of economic interests (Perrot 1999: 69). It is unquestionable that after a few months, security objectives were diverted or manipulated for economic and financial stakes (Vlassenroot, et al. 2012: 40). The interventions were accompanied by the opening of great business opportunities and the realization of large economic profits from the exploitation of Congo’s mineral resources (Perrot 1999: 69). After their arrival in 1996, UPDF commanders began exploiting pre-existing transborder informal networks of economic exchange in the eastern parts of Zaïre, more specifically Kisangani and Ituri. Known for their abundance of diamonds and gold, Ugandan officers started exploiting these regions for their own benefit. The commanders quickly learned how to turn their military control into profitable enterprises, by militarising the modes of exploitation and commercialization of existing pre-war networks. A result was a skyrocketing 1997 Ugandan gold export (Vlassenroot, et al. 2012: 5). However, the next year, the export figures plummeted to only US$19 million, one fourth of the income of 1997, suggesting that the war may, after all, not be all that good for Uganda’s trade figures (Clark 2001: 277). Initially, these activities were mainly organised on an individual basis, but during the second intervention, the exploitation appeared to be more systematic, evolving into more business-like ventures formed out a collaboration between UPDF commanders, rebel leaders, political elites, and traders, linked with international legal and illegal networks, dominated by the Ugandan military. Next to the exploitation of natural resources, these networks generated revenues from the region’s cross-border trade, import, distribution of consumer goods, and the collection of taxes (Tripp 2010: 176). The crash of a plane in September 1998 in the Rwenzori Mountains revealed the connection between the Congolese business ventures and highly placed political-military figures in the Ugandan regime. The accident left Lieutenant-Colonel Jet Johnson Mwebaze (a brother of James Kazini) dead, along with four others. Searching the crash-site, the plane turned out to be carrying a million dollars in cash on board, which was going to be used for the clandestine acquisition of gold in the Ituri district. The passengers must have hoped to take

42 advantage of the fact their load would be classified as military cargo, and thus would avoid payment of custom duties. All of the five passengers appeared to have close business links with Museveni’s younger brother Salim Saleh (Vlassenroot, et al. 2012 and Clark 2001). One journalist reported that this mission “was on behalf of an Israeli firm, Efforte Corporation, in which Saleh has substantial shareholdings” (Quoted in Clark 2001: 543). This confirms that, despite a large number of UPDF personnel participating in the exploitation of eastern Congo, from rank-and-file soldiers to high-ranking officials, the illicit trade was largely dominated by individuals closely linked to the Ugandan regime, including a number of ‘historicals’ and close relatives of the president, such as Salim Saleh and . (Interview researcher, 19 April 2016 and Vlassenroot, et al. 2012). Their involvement in these shadow networks was implicated by the 2001 Group of Experts. Their report named Lieutenant-General Salim Saleh and Brigadier James Kazini, the overall commander of Uganda’s mission in the Congo, as key figures in the elitist networks of exploitation. It also named other close associates to Museveni, including Colonel Nobel Mayombo, Colonel Kahinda Otafiire, and Colonel Peter Kerim (Tripp 2010: 176). Particularly the activities of the former named key figures, Saleh and Kazini are quintessential. The latter constituted the link between UPDF commanders and Congolese armed groups, including the MLC of Jean-Pierre Bemba, making him the orchestrator, organizer, and manager of illegal activities related to UPDF presence in Congo. Illustrative for his involvement was previous mentioned complex he attempted to set up in the Ituri district, where he utilized local antagonism in order to strengthen his grip over transborder trade networks. He was further involved in the smuggling of coffee, timber, and other natural resources (Vlassenroot et al., 2012). Kazini’s unwavering search for natural resources caused tensions to rise between UPDF and Rwandan troops, putting serious strain on the Ugandan-Rwandan relations. His attempts to take over the illegal diamond trade in eastern Congo resulted in clashes with Rwandan troops in Kisangani in 1999 and 2000. Allegedly, these ‘Kisangani wars’ resulted in the deaths of seven hundred soldiers in the first of three clashes alone (Tripp 2010: 145). Since the long- lasting Uganda-Rwanda alliance almost died in one of Africa’s most lucrative diamond centers, the wars only confirmed that the countries were just in Congo for the spoils (McKnight 2015: 40). Such a dissipation should, according to the Ugandan military code, have led to at least a dishonorable discharge. However, Kazini walked away without repercussions, only to be promoted and participate in Operation Iron Fist against the LRA in 2002. This pardon quietly affirms the complicity between elitist shadow networks in the Congo and Kampala’s centers of power.

43 Saleh, on the other hand, was more involved in connecting centers of production in the DRC with centers of commercialization in Kampala. Endlessly diversifying his activities, mixing civilian military and civilian business, he was shareholder in a conglomerate of firms facilitating the commercialization of Congo’s resources, including aviation firms, private security companies, and transportation firms. The Victoria Group, for example, was involved in the export of gold, coffee, timber and diamonds via Kampala to international markets. The Saleh couple, together with Kazini and Ottafiire, was also linked to Trinity Investments, specialized in the exploitation of timber in the occupied regions of eastern Congo and transportation of agricultural products, timber and cattle to Kampala, exempt of UPDF toll barriers and export taxes (Vlassenroot et al. 2012: 7-8). Because of the military entrepreneurism of such people as Saleh and Kazini, linking the conflict economy with international legal and criminal networks, “successful businesses and petty corruption expanded to evolve into an entrepreneurial organization adept at a large scale business of war, led by a military businessmen clique, whose very pillars were the government structures of the bellicose states” (Perrot 1999). These linkages make it possible to explain the UPDF continued stay in the DRC among the lines of regime stability. That is, the extraction of resources from Congo as part of a programme to keep Museveni in power (Clark 2001: 277). The question remains in what degree Museveni acknowledged or encouraged such activities. Despite above mentioned theory, Clark (2001: 282), further suggests the Ugandan army in DRC to be loosely under control of its own commander-in-chief, who had to allow the continued pillaging of the Congo considering the potential coup if he did not. According to Clark, officers likely began participating in criminal commercial activities spontaneously once they had begun their duty of occupation, without Museveni intending his troops to engage in such activities when he originally ordered them into the Congo. However, even if such activities were not intended in the first place, the president did not appear to have had much objection. On a number of occasions, Museveni refuted vehemently the existence of trading and smuggling activities saying there was nothing of value in Congo to exploit, even when confronted with evidence from his own Ugandan soldiers as well as from the United Nations. Because of this denial, the 2002 reviewed UN report deemed Museveni, as well as Kagame, being ‘accomplices’ to the pillaging of Congo’s natural resources (Tangri & Mwenda 2003: 546). It is highly unlikely that the president did not have any knowledge of the existence and scale of these networks, since it was mostly his younger brother who was involved and the evidence was presented right under his nose (Interviews with journalists, researchers and MPs, April 2016). Quoting Vlassenroot, Perrot and Cuvelier (2012: 12), “it should therefore be

44 recognized that these networks did not act without interference from the political centre, which illustrates a strong interconnectedness of parallel networks with formal state structures, with the formal centre of power helping to consolidate the power and resources of shadow structures and the same shadow network being exploited by the political centre.” Since most of the people leading the exploitation were part of a first generation of Museveni’s militarised regime, being either ‘historicals’ or close relatives to the president (and thus, accomplices in Museveni’s takeover), he regarded them as being his peers and vice versa. This, and their sense of self-entitlement enabled them to stand-up against the president in certain circumstances, demanding toleration of practices against Museveni’s will (Interviews with MP and journalists, April 2016). This, in combination with the perpetual search for resources to nourish the patrimonial system and the easy-access to such resources in the Congo region, could easily have made Museveni to approbate the looting of the Congo. To support this idea, I rely heavily on Chabal’s statement (1999: 162) of Museveni’s genuine interest in transcending short-term gains, but being trapped in the patrimonial state. As a member of the NRM criticised his president: “Museveni was not that fond of the resource grabbing the DRC, because it weakened the DRC as a partner (…) He aims for stability and long term trade, not to invade and extract” (Interview former director EASF, 24 April 2016). It is true, that these activities only benefitted certain individuals, and not Uganda as a whole. But, at the same time, it also obtained resources for paying the NRM’s political requirements and was thus beneficial for the stability of Museveni’s regime (Tangri & Mwenda 2003: 551). The strong position of these presidential peers in the regime and the interconnectedness of Congolese shadow networks with the formal state was illustrated after the end of the Congo wars, when Ugandan military entrepreneurs were forced to put an end to their lucrative businesses after domestic and international pressure. Despite the international criticism they received and a 2002 report of the Porter commission recommending disciplinary action against James Kazini and criminal investigation into the activities of Salim Saleh, except for the firing of Kazini as an army commander in 2003, no judicial action was taken in relation to these charges (Tripp 2010: 177). In fact, most of the leaders of the Congolese shadow networks have been recycled and reintegrated in the Ugandan state machinery and are still in charge of public affairs. Only Kazini took the fall. Not, however, for his actions in Congo or his personal war against Rwanda in Kisangani, but, for his involvement in the ‘ghost soldiers’ scandal. However, as stated by Vlassenroot, Perrot and Cuvelier (2012: 13), the 2008 condemnation of Kazini was believed to be linked to his political ambitions of plotting a coup, rather than for the embezzlement of military funds. One year later, the former commander was killed by his

45 girlfriend in his flat in Kampala, raising suspicions of a state orchestrated assassination (“Girlfriend ‘Kills Uganda General’” 2009). This seems to prove that Museveni never fully lost control over the Ugandan warlords of the Congo. After 2003, as peace took hold, Uganda increased its formal and informal exports to Congo, signalling a shift from military exploitation towards greater economic engagement. Following Museveni’s intentions, Uganda currently appears to be more interested in the economic benefits flowing from a greater stability in eastern Congo than in sponsoring a resumption of conflict. Uganda’s official exports to Congo have increased a staggering 1,300 percent between 2002 and 2008 (Fahey 2010). However, even as the Ugandan troops had officially left the Congo, the UPDF retained local paramilitary forces to facilitate the commercial activities of its officers (Tripp 2010: 176). With the Ugandan military entrepreneurs gone, Congolese soldiers largely took over the existing networks of commercialization. It is thanks to maintained contacts with these Congolese troops, Ugandan businessmen could continue to access the rich natural resources. Salim Saleh, for example, is said to still work together with such networks (Interview journalist, 22 April 2016). In Ituri, Uganda’s continued involvement include reports of Ugandan trained militias and trade between local armed groups and Ugandan businessmen (Fahey 2010). In 2009, a report to the UN Security Council revealed, again, the existence of private networks involved in the smuggling of large quantities gold and other commodities from the DRC, which are still passing through Uganda exempted from export taxes (Vlassenroot, et al. 2012: 13).

2.3.2. Military entrepreneurism after the DRC

After the exposure of the militarised shadow networks in the Congo, such huge scale corruption in the military was simply not tolerated anymore. Not because of the international criticism or accusations, but more likely because the military high command is not willing to let such practices affect the operational ability and effectiveness of the Ugandan military forces anymore. For Museveni, the military is a great source of stability for his regime and, as a military minded person and ‘godfather’ to his soldiers, he perceives himself responsible for the well-being of the Ugandan soldiers. If he lets this force perish under perpetual large scale corruption and bad management, he would lose much of his credibility and support from both the military and international donors – both pillars of his regime. This, however, does not mean that the military has been safeguarded from corruption ever since. While practices on the vast scale of the type in which James Kazini was involved in appear history, small scale deals and

46 looting are still present, because “corruption is just the way how the system works” (Interviews with researcher and journalist, April 2016). In South Sudan, during the Ugandan struggle against the LRA in the 2000s, UPDF soldiers made no attempt to hide their business interests. One South-Sudanese chief recalled: “UPDF were just making business (…) They don’t want to die. They want to make money” (Quoted in Schomerus 2012: 137). A report by the Small Arms Survey of September 2007 accused Ugandan soldiers of illegally clearing valuable teak forests from the moment they arrived in the area in March 2003, as part of the Operation Iron Fist. The report described the army officers as business-minded and found them supervising illegal logging (“Ugandan army looted Teak wood from South Sudan” 2007). In the CAR, too, illegal timber is said to be exported by military C-130 Hercules transport planes to Entebbe (Interviews with journalist and European military attaché, April 2016). Furthermore, with the beginning of Operation Iron Fist in 2002, the local arms trade in the Ugandan-Sudanese border region is said to have changed. After the arrival of Ugandan troops, the region knew a high rise in small arms proliferation, to the extent that a 2007 report stated “that some elements of the UPDF contributed to insecurity in South Sudan by weapons trading”. Ugandan soldiers appear to be bartering their guns for food and other commodities (Schomerus 2012). Such practices appear rather petty in comparison with the shadow networks Ugandan military set up in the DRC. The main perpetrators here are likely low to medium level officers, not the top-level officers, members of the ‘historicals’, or relatives to the President. However, it would not be unlikely that these inner circles share in the wealth that is to be accumulated by these smuggling activities (Interview European military attaché, 27 April 2016). Despite them not actively appearing involved, nor controlling such networks, it is very plausible that the high command allows such practices to happen. One journalist proposed the reason for permitting smuggle activities and selling of military equipment by the lower ranks a result of the persisting, but more elaborate and covert corruption within the high command. Since the soldiers are aware of their corruptive actions, they are allowed some small scale profit to keep them from complaining on the corruption and disappearing of funds on a higher level (Interview journalist, 22 April 2016). The validity of this theory is still to be confirmed, but it appears true that high level command was in fact involved in such elaborate schemes during the intervention in South Sudan. In the Status of Forces Agreement, probating the 2013 Ugandan intervention, it is stated under article 9.0 “Each Party will allow members of a visiting Force to import to the Host State free of duty their personal equipment and materials as well as household effects for their

47 personal use” (Status of Forces Agreement 2014). South Sudan, being one of Uganda’s most important export destination is heavily dependent on Ugandan commodities since its own production cannot meet the demand for goods, with informal and formal exports valued at, respectively, US$929.9million and US$245.9million in 2008 (Schomerus & Titeca 2012). Article 9 of the Agreement thus allowed the UPDF to bring much needed commodities into South Sudan duty free, in a time the newly erupted conflict strained the Sudanese production even more. With the informal and formal export dropping because of the 2013 civil war, Ugandan officers saw the opportunity to set up highly lucrative businesses using military equipment and under the cover of an intervention. The crownpiece of such schemes is said to be put on the name of military entrepreneur Salim Saleh. He, proposedly, had trucks leaving from his residence towards the Sudanese border in order to be exported duty free and sold on Sudan’s market (Interviews with researcher and journalist, April 2016). This allegation seems not so farfetched, since Saleh already was reproached of having awarded his own company a US$400,000 monthly tender to supply UPDF with commodities in Gulu (Tangri & Mwenda 2003: 543). The Status of Forces Agreement also stipulated that the ‘Host State’ was to cover the fuel expenses for the ‘Visiting Force’ (Status of Forces Agreement, 2014 and interviews with MP and journalists, April 2016). The GoU boasted that, apart for the fuel expenses, it had provided all the funds for the almost two-year long mission. Not much later, however, South Sudanese Defence Minister Kuol Mamnyang Juuk admitted to underground dealings with Kampala that the South Sudanese government is in fact paying the Ugandan army for their military deployment. He maintained: “We are funding all the activities of UPDF in our territory” (“S. Sudan defence minister admits government is paying Ugandan army” 2014). Even though it is highly unlikely that the Sudanese government covered all the expenses of the UPDF, it is very plausible Kiir presented more reimbursements for the Ugandan military aid than just the fuel expenses. Despite these statements, Ugandan officials still maintain that the GoU contributed all of the costs (Interview Chairperson of Committee on Defence and Internal Affairs, 26 April 2016). In 2016, the Parliament’s Budget Committee even claimed that the fuel was not provided as agreed (“Parliament wants South Sudan to pay for UPDF deployment” 2016). It appears the contributions donated by South Sudan have gone directly to the Ministry of Defence, not the to the Parliament which had provided the initial funding for the mission. Thus, instead of using the Sudanese war contributions to reimburse public funds taken from the Ugandan Treasury, the money was directly transferred to the Museveni controlled Ministry of Defence to probably end up as rents in the regime’s patrimonial system (Interviews with

48 journalists, April 2016). This way, by participating in foreign operations, public funds are turned into patrimonial rents. The Ugandan AMISOM contingent is neither spared from the corruptive curse of the Ugandan military. A US official declared to Museveni that “the UPDF are good fighter, but some of their commanders are thieves” (“UPDF good fighters but thieves, US tells Museveni” 2013). In 2012 and 2013, a series of thefts of army supplies and troops commissions by UPDF commanders was exposed. Especially Uganda Battle Group 10 (UGABAG10), under the command of Brigadier Michael Odonga, was struck heavily by this series of events. In 2012, reports already came in of unexplained cutting in allowances, inadequate medical treatment or the simple withholding of allowances and compensation for injuries. According to soldiers it was hard to get paid, unless one offered a percentage of their payment or have a senior officer lobby for them. When soldiers inquire on why they are not being payed, their commanders threaten to send them back home. Also the US$100 soldiers are to receive during their time in Somalia to cover in-stay expenses appears to have been withheld in many cases during the 2013 operation. Similar problems have been reported before to occur with UGABAG 3 in 2008-2009 (“Soldiers accuse bosses of stealing their allowances” 2012). The Chairperson of the Committee on Defense and Internal affairs refuted such accusations by ascribing the delay to bureaucratic and therefore slow procedures for releasing the money for allowances and medical treatment that has been provided by the EU (Interview MP, 26 April 2016). In April 2016, new reports came in on similar practices of foot-soldiers not receiving their promised in-stay allowances, and food supplies being brought to Kampala to be sold. (Interview journalist, 29 April 2016). Next to such practices, Ugandan soldiers also revealed the theft and selling of food, blankets and fuel by their commanders. Despite sufficient food supplies, soldiers often take only one meal a day or are given rotten or stale rations since the food is reportedly sold to civilian population before it reaches the areas of operation. One whole battalion and specialized units also did not receive the UN supplied blankets, amounting to the disappearance of Shs105 million worth of blankets. Fuel, again, appears to be one of the most desired supplies. One scenario narrates of a fuel truck which was drained and the fuel sold, but one of the commanders directed the administration officer to sign vouchers acknowledging receipt of a tank full of fuel. When the officer refused the sign the vouchers, he was suspended by his commanders and ordered back to the UN base camp (“UPDF bosses suspended over stealing food” 2013). Other fuel-related stories involve armored vehicles not being used in battle in order to save fuel consumption, leaving it to be sold on the market. The commanders would further requisition fuel for these vehicles to sell it instead. In addition, Ugandan guns and ammunition are said to

49 be sold to Somali civilians. Some senior commanders also passed on water and electric bills from their homes and those of their relatives to be paid under military expenditure. (“Our bosses sold guns, soldiers tell Museveni” 2013). When Museveni heard of these practices from various reports and meetings with returning soldiers, he is said to have expressed that he could not condone corruption in his army and ordered an inquiry into the matter. From the start of these investigations, at least 24 UPDF officers of UGABAG 10 were either suspended or moved away from the contingent. Amongst these were the first commander, brigadier Michael Ondoga, colonel Johnson Muhanguzi, colonel Oulanya, Intelligence officer Kirya, and Colonel Matua (“Our bosses sold our guns, soldiers tell Museveni” 2013). The inquiry ignited a lot of internal tension amongst the senior UPDF commanders, who attempted to influence the outcome of the investigation in their favor by selecting investigators loyal to them. Brigadier Leopold Kyanda, current Chief of Staff of the Land Forces, for example, attempted to introduce some rather questionable candidates in the investigation team. Some of whom had disciplinary processes running or past issues within Kampala’s business community. One of the investigators that was selected was at the time under an investigation for conning an Iranian businessman of US$300,000 in a dubious gold deal (“Somalia theft probe shakes UPDF officers” 2013). Odonga, together with Sam Kirya and two captains, were arrested in November 2013, but following the trial, he was acquitted of all charges, stripped from his position in the military (“Brig Ondoga, two other officers remanded over Somalia food theft” 2013). With this, the case was closed and, allegedly, all officers involved were punished. The tension amongst senior UPDF officers and their efforts to influence the investigation raises questions on the involvement of other high-level officers in the theft of army logistics in Somalia. During the investigation, the whole case was portrayed as the handy work of the medium-level command. It is, however, very likely that there was collusion of high- level command, with Ondoga taking the fall for the whole case – similar to what Kazini had done in the DRC (Interview journalist, 25 April 2016). One officer claimed that “Ondoga and Muhanguzi are not alone”, doubting their capacity to transact such huge fuel deals. The theft of Somali army logistics appears to be part of a well-crafted syndicate, which, if subjected to an independent investigation, would probably expose some big names in the politico-military circles. However, because of the international supervision of the AMISOM mission and lessons learned from the Congo generation, senior commanders have been more precautious and forced themselves to construct elaborate safety valves around their involvement, protecting them from criticism. In fact, a senior UPDF commander who wields a lot of influence in the establishment

50 and was involved in selecting the panel of investigators, is said to have offered UPDF logistics, including fuel, armed protection, and manpower to a foreign company that was contracted to build security roads in Somalia. According to several informants, Leopold Kyanda is to be involved in this scheme, as well as – however unconfirmed – , current commander of the UPDF land forces (Interviews with journalists, April 2016). The fact that some of the members of the investigation team were themselves involved, only ratifies the idea that certain aspects are meant to be kept silent. (“Somalia theft probe shakes UPDF officers” 2013). Salim Saleh, too, appears to have interests in the Somali conflict. His private security company Saracen International has come under international spotlight for training militia’s in Somalia’s semi-autonomous Puntland state (“Museveni’s half-brother profiting from training Somali militias” 2010 and interview with journalist, 22 April 2016). Despite evidence of above mentioned practices, it is difficult to connect them to the presidential circles because of the high level of secrecy that still veils around these schemes. It is furthermore highly doubtful that Museveni was involved in any of these schemes directly or even granted his approval. He did, however, build up a system that allows such practices to fester. In contrast to the DRC shadow networks, it would be rather inconsequent to argue that military entrepreneurism formed one of the main drivers for the continued Ugandan presence in Somalia, South Sudan or the CAR. In these contexts, corruption is rather to be seen as a side- effect of the workings of the military apparatus than a pursued and planned strategy to nourish the patrimonial working of the politico-military Ugandan regime. In Somalia, for example, Ugandan military are not involved in any schemes like the Kenyans, whose illegal charcoal and sugar trade in cooperation with Al-Shabaab networks remind of the Ugandan networks in the Congo (Journalists for Justice 2015). Still, it is tellingly that high-level officials, who without doubt are to be involved in the majority of above schemes, are allowed to alter the facts and manage to once more dodge the bullet.

51 3. Interventions as a tool: recent changes and future challenges

3.1. Regional integration of African security

Despite the initial widespread enthusiasm over Pan-Africanist ideals following the decolonization of African states, Africa’s post-independence leaders needed first to establish political hegemony over their own inherited lands before looking past their own borders. The past two decades, however, a greater willingness to push forward African regionalization and to manage and prevent conflicts on a regional level have been witnessed. Leaders in Africa have since long recognized that they share mutual vulnerabilities, and this has driven them to cooperate in mutual self-interest (Reno 2012). Museveni was one of the pioneering African leaders in advocating the need for such a regional integration. He, himself, and many of the senior leadership in his regime are still heavily influenced by Pan-Africanist ideals and philosophy (Providing for Peacekeeping 2014). By integrating national security within regional peace and security schemes, unilateral extension of Uganda’s strategic borders might be of the past. Peace and stabilization operations will from then on be conducted in cooperation with the affected countries under the flag of the AU or the East African Community, rather than by a UPDF-only invasion. This way, the security impetus of strategic depths will be outsourced towards intergovernmental and regional structures. In fact, Museveni already attempts to integrate most of Ugandan foreign interventions – with the exception the adventures in the DRC – within the confines of regional security frameworks. The 2013 invasion of South Sudan was done along the guidelines of the constitution of the AU, the hunt for Kony in the CAR is integrated in an AU regional initiative, and AMISON is an AU-operation. Furthermore, most of these interventions could also be interpreted as promoting regional integration. The invasion in South Sudan was, in essence, already a Pan-African mission in motivation, its goal to stabilize the country and allow negotiations. The same is applicable to Somalia, where stability is necessary for further regional integration and to allow free trade with Somalia as a partner (Interview former director EASF, 24 April 2016). Despite the loose coherence between the several detachments in Somalia, integration in security such as AMISOM compliments growing economic integration by brining neighbouring political elites closer together in addressing regional issues (Providing for Peacekeeping 2014). Therefore, both missions were to create better East African Community linkages, facilitating regional integration. Adding to this is Museveni’s alleged aversion of the resource grabbing in the DRC, since it weakened the country as a partner.

52 Museveni is widely being regarded as a donor of military experience to put out fires in the region, using the UPDF as “some kind of regional mercenary force” (Interviews with former director EASF and researcher, Kampala April 2016). With the externalization of his security forces, he aims for greater stability in the region. Not just in a sense of altruistic regional comradeship, but as a way to manoeuvre himself into a comfortable position in the region. He likes to see himself a “the bull in the region”, as the primus inter pares. If there is any big or small issue, he wants others, especially his younger peers, to refer to him. Since he is the ‘muzee’, the senior, in the region, this gives him a certain aura and obligation to mediate (Interviews with journalists, professor Makerere University, European military attaché and former director EASF, April 2016). As one of the AU’s largest TCCs Uganda is already able to wield disproportionate influence with the continental body and with its regional diplomatic relations (Providing for Peacekeeping 2014). According to one MP “when it comes to understanding regional matters and influencing them for its own good, Museveni is the best there is”. He has already been involved in a lot of regional crises already, but until a regional security architecture is fully functional he takes the role upon himself (Interview MP, 29 April 2016). This way, he builds the perception of being indispensable in the region. For when this regional security system is in place, he is perceiving a prominent place for himself (Interview European Ambassador, 20 April 2016).

3.2. Growing impatience with the donor community

Museveni’s regional efforts also influence his position with the donor community for the better. However, the 2016 elections have been met with a lot of international criticism, jeopardizing Museveni’s position as a donor-darling and a regional factor of stabilization. The deterioration in relations has been witnessed in several episodes the last months. During the presidential inauguration ceremony in May 2016, European and US envoys walked out in protest after being challenged by Museveni for describing the ICC as “a bunch of useless people” (“Western envoys in Uganda walk out of Museveni swearing-in” 2016). This happened after the belated or, in most cases, abstained congratulations by Western head of states for Museveni’s re- election (Interview, European Ambassador, 20 April 2016). US ambassador Samantha Powers flat-out criticized the manner in which the presidential elections were conducted. In her own words “the actions that accompanied the elections – the social media shutdown, the detention of Opposition figures, the harassment of media – have weakened Uganda’s democracy and tarnished Uganda’s images as a strong democracy in a turbulent region”, to the extent that she

53 labelled the president as a security threat to Uganda. Museveni reacted in these allegation that “they should mind their own business (…) I don’t like foreigner giving me orders on Uganda. Uganda is ours” (“Uganda: President Tells Off Donors on 2016 Poll” 2016). It is true that the criticism from the EU observation mission, the Commonwealth and the US was much more severe these elections. Different factors have contributed to this enlarged criticism, including the population explosion, the high rate of youth unemployment, the dawn of a new generation with no ties to the historical struggle of the NRM, the opposition controlling the capital, and the nervosity amongst security forces regarding regime-critical actors. These factors and his government’s repressive behaviour have made international donors question Museveni as a risk for Uganda’s stability (“Uganda: President Tells Off Donors on 2016 Poll” 2016). Despite 30 years of stability, the realization has occurred that things eventually could go wrong in Uganda, too. As the history of the region has proven, political regimes could become irrelevant practically overnight. This danger for domestic instability could furthermore taint his role as regional mediator. In the UN security council, the US already referred explicitly to Museveni’s Uganda as a potential problem in the region. (Interviews with European Ambassador and journalist, April 2016). Within the US, other voices are coming up to revisit their relationship with Uganda, since “Museveni is making a mockery of president Obama’s call for good governance and democracy in Africa (…) [US aid] is sending the message that trampling on rights is permissible as long as the country remains a US counterterrorism ally” (“It’s time for the U.S. to rethink its approach to Uganda” 2016). Despite these concerns and the erosion caused by the elections, it is highly unlikely that a break between Museveni and his donors will occur any time soon. Instead of a full revision of their relationship, it will rather be revised by some subtle changes (Interview European Ambassador, 20 April 2016). To boost his image and shake of the criticism, Museveni might put greater emphasize on his regional role as a mediator, for which the Burundian crisis could prove an interesting case (Interview with European Ambassador and journalist, April 2016). Because for the donor community it is this role that makes him so valuable as a partner (Interviews with EU official and European Military Attaché, April 2016). However, following the criticism, members of the Museveni regime felt a sense of discrepancy in using Ugandan lives for keeping the region stable and the open criticism from the international community. This left a feeling of ungratefulness with Ugandan officials, wondering if they should leave things go bad for once for the donors to better understand their efforts (Interviews with MPs, April 2016). The recent elections and the following criticism have thus caused mutual erosion on Ugandan-donor relations. While his regional role keeps him on good terms with the

54 international community, his democratic deficit starts weighing through, marking the end of his golden age of donor favouritism.

3.3. A Change of Guard in the military

In the period prior and shortly after the 1986 take-over, the Ugandan armed forces were highly entwined with the internal politics of the Ugandan government. The UPDF (and the NRA before them) was very much involved in addressing internal matters and formed an armed extension of the politics of the Ugandan regime. From 2013 onwards, however, a new team of commanders is being put in place (“Museveni’s new team of commanders” 2013). This ‘new blood’ and Museveni have been depicting a more external role for the mainstream UPDF. Still, in emergency situations the regime still has the tendency to rely heavily on the military, as was demonstrated in the 2016 Rwenzori uprising. This external role for the UPDF thus does not mean it will not intervene in domestic issues anymore, but rather a military apparatus detached from politics. This role is complemented with a growing professionalization of the Ugandan military, a phenomenon that is being witnessed across Sub-Saharan armies (Interview European Military attaché, 27 April 2016). While this professionalization extends the capability of the forces, allowing it to participate more competent on regional peacekeeping missions – thus attracting more foreign support; it was also prompted by external support and actors and participation on international sponsored peacekeeping missions (Interview, Chairperson Committee on Defence and Internal affairs, 26 April 2016). This externalization is mainly being induced by a recent change of guard in the top- military circles. Whereas the previous military top was a product of the bush war period, existing of Museveni supporters who distinguished themselves in the guerilla struggle; this new generation comprises commanders who have been groomed in prestigious military academies in the UK and the US. These ‘new professionals’ are said to be very little concerned with politics or internal affairs. The current number one in the UPDF is for example very careful not to make any political statements, practicing the pledged political neutrality. In contrast to the past, moreover, selection of commanders is no longer limited to western Uganda and Museveni’s home areas, as proven with current Chief of Defense Forces Katumba Wamala and his deputy Charles Angina. This way, the UPDF seems carefully and slowly detaching itself from internal politics. (Interview European Military Attaché, 27 April 2016). Depoliticizing the UPDF is made possible because of the expansion of Special Forces Command lead by Muhoozi Kainerugaba, Museveni’s oldest son. The SFC was born out of the

55 Presidential Guard Brigade in 2010. This ‘Praetorian Guard’ does not takes orders from any other structures in the army, not even from the Chief of Defense Forces, and is under direct control of the president. The soldiers are being privileged from the regular forces in many ways by not being assigned to the more dangerous frontline position, better equipment, training, food, salary, clothing, and benefits – inviting a lot of envy from the mainstream army (Interview professor Makerere University, 19 April 2016). Whereas the UPDF is being de-ethicized, the SFC is still dominated by Museveni’s own Bahima group and Basiita clan. In 2007, an estimated 500 soldiers were forced to leave the force, most of whom were not westerners (Tripp 2010: 137). This ‘army within the army’ is therefore widely being regarded to serve as a ‘safety valve’ for the president in case things go wrong, controlling key positions in the military apparatus, such as the air force, the marine corps and the engineering unit. They are also dispatched to control and secure Ugandan oil installations currently constructed in the Lake Albert region, a future crucial source of Museveni’s power (Vlassenroot et al., 2012 and interviews with journalists, professors and European Military Attaché, April 2016). The insurance given by this personalized army, makes it possible to reform the mainstream army into a more effective, external fighting force. The changeover of the military was inspired by Museveni’s wish to get elements of the bush war generation out of their influential positions in the army and state. As previously mentioned, these bush war veterans nourish a certain sense of entitlement, having fought alongside the president. Having given these commanders high-end positions as a reward for their aid, the danger seeps in that one of these commanders gains too much influence. “You cannot have too much commanders in the military, and it is a liability to have one person be able to control the land forces and the air force”, as explained by a journalist (Interview journalist, 25 April 2016). Museveni’s brothers in arms saw their official position mainly as a way to divert public resources into personal gains, as proven in the DRC and the flood of corruption scandals in the army. Furthermore, some of the sharpest criticisms against Museveni’s regime have come out of these circles. The biggest threats thus emanate from those closest to the president (Tripp 2010). A purge in the top military brass is not a novelty in Ugandan history. In the period leading up to the 2001 elections, officers supporting Besigye were considered treasonous and replaced with western officers, loyal to the NRM (Tripp 2010: 67). Nowadays, apart from his closest relatives, the bush war veterans have all but exited army leadership, and those who are still serving have to salute and pay homage to their former subordinates. In the army, such practices can be considered quite humiliating. Mayumbe and

56 Kazini are dead, Otafiire’s wing have been clipped after him losing the last election and his political fortune now rests with the president, Sejusa and Amama Mbabazi have been put aside, and General Aronda Nyakairama has recently deceased, his military star already fading after Museveni criticized him, and others, for the problems occurring at the Ugandan detachment in Somalia. The criticism against Aronda started following a visit of Muhoozi Kainerugaba to AMISOM, raising suspicion that Museveni’s critique was prompted by his son (Interview journalist, 25 April 2016). Muhoozi criticizing Aronda signaled the end of the bush war- generation and the dawn of a new generation of army leadership. With General Katumba Wamala presenting a transitional generation because of his age, which places him outside the new generation of leaders taking charge, and the fact that he did not participate in the NRA bush war, the feeling in the army is one of rising stars. In a way, Museveni seems to groom the armed forces for a transition of power. Contemporaries of Muhoozi Kainerugabe now make up the army leadership, with general Wilson Mbadi as Joint Chief of Staff, General Fred Mughisa as commander of the Counter Terrorism Center, General David Muhoozi as commander of the Land Forces, and Brigadier Leopold Kyanda as Chief of Staff of the Land Forces. Seeing the president as ‘Father of the Nation’ rather than their peer, and owing to him their rapid promotion, this team is considered to owe a maximum loyalty to Museveni – a kind of loyalty he is unlikely to get from bush war ‘historicals’. Most of these officers have formerly worked as members of the PGB or have served as aides to Museveni, bringing them even closer to the commander-in-chief. (“New guard takes charge of UPDF in new changes” 2013 and interviews with journalists and MP, April 2016). Shifting the army command away from the bush war-era towards a Muhoozi-era is said to mark a break in the need to maintain a patrimonial network to retain the loyalty of the armed forces. These ‘professional’ commanders not having the same claims as the bush war veterans makes them unable to force the commander-in-chief to allow illicit practices using army resources. Their sense of accountability, professionalism and loyalty should keep them away from corruptive tendencies. It must be said that none of the current top-military commanders are as rich as for example Otafiire, or any other bush war veteran for that matter (Interview MP, 28 April 2016). However, as events in Somalia and South Sudan have proven, corruption and bartering army resources is currently still widely spread within the military. The commanders involved in these scandals are said the be part of the ‘transitional’ generation, situated between the bush war-generation and the Muhoozi-generation. These commanders joined during the bush war period or shortly after, but only climbed the ranks in the period following 1986. Led

57 and influenced by the older generation, they have learned from their practices and tricks, and copied them for their own use (Interview journalist, 29 April 2016). The question still lumbers in what level the Muhoozi-generation will make their professionalism true and indeed stay away from corruption, which until now has been normal practice in the army. The other question that remains is if the SFC, Museveni’s new major pillar of power, will inherit the patrimonial resources previously reserved for the mainstream military. Their rigorous control of Lake Albert’s oil supplies already allows us to fear for the worst.

58 4. Conclusion

It seems president Museveni has given military interventions a prominent place in the maintenance of the stability of his regime. Whereas the first detected motivation, the principle of strategic depths, implies the simple protection of his regime against anti-governmental forces and destabilizing armed groups, the two other motivations specifically aim at appealing the two groups who have been identified as essential for regime stability: the military, and major powers and donor states. As stated, all of these three advantages are visible to a certain degree in every context the Ugandan military has deployed in the last two decades. However, during this dissertation certain quintessential contexts of how military interventions benefit regime stability have been uncovered. The principle of ‘strategic depths’ is already a geopolitical strategy that has been widely used over the globe, while in Sub-Saharan Africa, such practices are generally interpreted along the lines of proxy warfare. However, as shown, proxy warfare using rebel groups appears only one aspect of protecting and extending a country’s strategic borders. It also includes the maintenance of friendly neighbouring governments and the protection of export markets. Whereas this principle was widely used as a pretext for military interventions, in the way it triggered the Ugandan intervention in the DRC, where it appears to have be abandoned quickly; it is mainly Uganda’s involvement in South Sudan that needs to be interpreted amongst these lines. With the country constituting a very important segment of Uganda’s export market, it is also openly interpreted by Ugandan officials as their ‘buffer state’ in the north. However, a growing regional integration of security and trade within African Union or East African Community frameworks seems to overtake this type of unilateral foreign policy. It is therefore that in the future, in order to advance one’s own interests, African statesmen need to anticipate this changing reality and position themselves on the forefront of regional affairs. Museveni appears to have done this, be it out of Pan-African ideals or as a calculated strategic move. Next to regional advancement, profiling oneself as a regional statesman also influences one’s position with the international donor community for the better. As identified as one the major pillars of semi-authoritarian regimes, managing donor perceptions is a major aspect of African foreign policy. Besides giving access to flows of donor funds, good relations also provides political protection against international criticism for authoritarianism and human rights violations. After the growing scrutiny on liberal reforms, the ‘war on terror’ and regional peacekeeping have provided African leaders with a new tool to advance their position with the donor community. As been demonstrated with the proxy war with Khartoum and the utilisation

59 of the hunt on the LRA within the international climate of fear of terrorism, profiling oneself as an indispensable ally against Islamic fundamentalism appears a rather well-working strategy. Museveni has perfected this donor management in actively and professionally promoting himself as a beacon of stability in the region, attracting the steady support of Western states, especially the US and the UK. By mimicking donor discourse, Museveni managed to sell most of his foreign policy decision as regionally important, including the DRC-fiasco. With AMISOM, we described in what ways peacekeeping and donor management can be utilised as a means of regime stability: it provides funds for army upkeep and military expansion, it enhances the relevancy in the region, and gives a form of leverage in dealing with donor criticism. Recently, however, it seems that adverting donor criticism from domestic transgressions by regional relevance has been stressed to the limit, marking an end to the scrupulous influencing of donor opinions. A growing, and obvious democratic deficit has put some strain on the good relations between the president and the donor community. But these concerns appear to be more imbedded in a fear of regime instability than a real complaint on authoritarian statehood. As the past has learned, such changes of heart could be temporary, but only the future will show if the days of perception management are over. A second pillar of the stability in semi-authoritarian regimes, the military, is also to be managed and appeased using military interventions. Allowing commanders to access military resources and foreign spoils on external operations is a convenient way to obtain and distribute political rents amongst clients. While I have argued that Museveni was rather forced to uphold a patrimonial system amongst his former comrades with the NRA, he has in fact build up a system in the last two decades that allows such corruptive practices to fester. After the militarized shadow networks in the DRC, which aided Museveni very well to keep the patronage system in balance, the persistence of a corruptive system has been proven in the practices of commanders in the CAR, South Sudan, and Somalia. But such large-scale practices as in the DRC have not been observed ever since. Be it because the lack of any rigorous investigation, only reports of petty corruption have been made. Still, it appears to be very likely that, as much as during the DRC-era, elitist shadow networks with connections to the inner circles of the Ugandan regime are also involved in schemes of military entrepreneurism in these contexts. With the recent change of guard in the top-military brass, marking the exit of the bush war-generation from the high command, however, Museveni appears to be willing to put an end to the UPDF as an institute of patronage. While this decision seems to underline the theory that Museveni was rather forced to allow military exploitation during invasions to happen, the question remains in what way this apparent professionalized high command will or is to be

60 refrained from corruption. What is more, the bush war generals put aside, Museveni’s closest relatives, some of whom were quite big fish in the militarised shadow networks have retained their position, confirming the personalized, or clan-based workings of the Ugandan state. While efforts have been made to exempt the UPDF from internal politics and patronage, the SFC under command of the president’s son might have inherited this role. Based upon the case of Uganda, the three main benefits for regime stability in patrimonial regimes have thus been identified. Because of the typological nature of this research, I have argued that these benefits are not exclusively to be applied to the Ugandan regime, but more widespread to other, similar African regimes. It would therefore be interesting to see how these motivations are to be interpreted in, for example, Rwanda, Ethiopia, or . However, since most of this dissertation is based upon assumptions on the inner workings and foreign policy decisions of the Ugandan regime and on strategies behind military interventions, without having given the word to anybody closely connected to the regime nor any military who had a leading role in one of these interventions, a major party has been left out of this analysis. Including them would be able to provide an inside view of the motivations behind certain decision and take away a lot of the derivative speculation, adding valuable insights to the matters discussed in this dissertation. While the analysis here has been based upon interventions in the past, I have also argued what changes in the future might challenge the benefits for regime stability that have been presented. The question thus remains, if military interventions will remain a relevant tool in providing regime stability, and in what way.

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