To understand how theft of public resources flourishes, one has to observe how it is fought
Last week,
court dismissed as “no case to answer” charges of abuse of office and
causing financial loss against Maj. Gen. Jim Muhwezi in the Gavi trial.
Muhwezi had been taken to court on flimsy evidence that even state
witnesses – the Accountant General and the former Permanent Secretary in
the ministry of health – said he had not authorised any payments. A
similar situation attains to the charges brought against former Vice
President Gilbert Bukenya and the current charges against ministers Sam
Kutesa, Mwesigwa Rukutana and John Nasasira.
To
understand how corruption survives and flourishes in Uganda, one has to
observe how it is often fought. President Yoweri Museveni has
successfully consolidated power using official corruption and patronage.
He co-opts powerful elites from Uganda’s different religious and
ethnic factions. By giving them positions of power, privilege and
influence in government, he is able to create a bridge between himself
and their followers. Often the exchange in this alliance is access to
official privileges and unofficial opportunities to profit through
corruption.
But this
arrangement comes with certain costs. For example, it undermines the
state’s ability to deliver public goods and services. Museveni has
written before that whenever he travels around the country, he is
accosted by complaints from voters about the poor delivery of public
services. So he knows that corruption leads to some degree of domestic
political discontent. It also displeases donors on whom his government
depends for supplemental revenue to finance its public expenditure
objectives. Therefore, he has to juggle these competing demands.
Museveni
seems to possess a very good intuitive understanding of human nature
most especially the psyche of Ugandan elites and Western attitudes. He
knows that human beings are driven more by a sense of injustice (and the
need to make them feel that justice is being done) rather than a sense
of factual truths. He has thus been able to create a system in which
disgruntled elites and donors are able to feel that something is being
done to stop corruption while letting corruption proceed with little
effort to curb it.
This
became evident to me during the censure of Muhwezi, then state minister
for education in 1998. Museveni was a behind-the-scenes player using
Winnie Byanyima to mobilise MPs to support the censure. A meeting was
held at Uganda House between then Army Commander, Mugisha Muntu, Salim
Saleh and Henry Tumukunde. They told Muhwezi that NRM was facing a
credibility crisis and needed someone to sacrifice to stave off public
anger. It seems Saleh and Tumukunde had discussed the matter with
Museveni. Muhwezi refused. I learnt then as a young journalist that this
was not about fighting corruption but about creating a particular
impression.
Meanwhile,
Winnie and her allies deliberately over-stated Muhwezi’s wealth, lied
and forged in order to create a particular impression in the parliament
and cause him to be censured. I became an opponent of the censure
process noting that one cannot fight corruption corruptly. I argued that
the pursuit of truths cannot be sacrificed at the altar of securing
victory. But donors and Uganda’s chattering classes in the media were
hypnotised by the spectacle and Muhwezi fell.
In 1999,
Museveni appointed a commission of inquiry into the police chaired by
Justice Julia Sebutinde. She became a heroin with her rants and tantrums
against the police officers who appeared before her commission. She
would shut down any police officer trying to defend themselves saying:
“You are a liar,” or “You belong to Luzira.” There was no justice or
fairness. It was a circus. I could not bring myself to accept this as a
way to handle such an investigation. I felt strongly that the accused
persons deserved to be heard. I decided to take on Sebutinde in The
Monitor and on Radio One’s Spectrum program. But the hysteria her
tantrums had generated among Uganda’s chattering classes was too strong
for reason to prevail.
Therefore,
the pattern of empty cases against particular individuals and groups
suspected of corruption has continued. Whenever there are strong anti
corruption feelings, someone is offered as a sacrificial lamb. Whether
it was the URA investigation or Chogm expenditures, Gavi or Global Fund,
our chattering classes and donors converge to support the process. The
facts of the case do not matter to them. Their emotional desires do.
This appeasement of the public through publically orchestrated rituals
aimed at giving an appearance that there is a serious war on corruption
have been the very mechanism that has allowed it to flourish.
This
public spectacle was replayed with similar results during the oil debate
in October 2011. Again I stood almost alone in arguing that an
investigation must be rooted in a set of normative values and
principles. Unless and until a section of the elite class in Uganda
resists the temptation to be bribed with gimmicks and insist on a fair
and just process backed by facts, it will not be possible to tame the
monster of corruption that hangs over our nation like the proverbial
sword of Damocles.
The fight
against corruption is a war of values hence the need for a moral
framework to guide it; a set of values, ethnics and principles which
privilege fact over malice, evidence over hearsay, sobriety over
emotions and justice over revenge. An accusation would have to be backed
by credible evidence for it to stand. The accused would have a right
of self defence. The accuser would have to substantiate their
allegations. Key players – government investigators, analysts,
journalists and opposition legislators – all would carry a
responsibility to act with agreed ethical norms. Without such values,
what you get are public rituals to appease political discontent, not a
war against corruption.
No comments:
Post a Comment