Uganda’s elections: Is there a third way?

Ugandans cast their ballots on Thursday, January 15, in general elections marked by widespread violations, fatalities, and the arrest of hundreds. The outcome, however, followed a familiar script. Expectations pointed toward another renewal of President Yoweri Museveni’s mandate, now at the end of his sixth term, and the continued dominance of the ruling party across parliamentary and local councils. The Electoral Commission is expected to announce final results by the end of the week. Yet the vote itself has done little to resolve Uganda’s stalled democratic transition. Rather than charting a path forward, the process appeared designed to address the regime’s deeper anxiety: how to recalibrate power arrangements for a future that inevitably follows Museveni.

As polling closed in a climate of unease surrounding both the presidential and legislative races, the elections came to be framed as the last available opportunity for Museveni and his National Resistance Movement to renew their hold on power, a grip Ugandans have known since 1986. While the system formally allows pluralism, with 27 political parties and eight presidential candidates participating, the appearance of competition has long masked tight control over public life. As in previous cycles, outcomes seemed settled well before ballots were cast. The presidency remains effectively reserved for Museveni, while his party is poised to dominate the 499-seat parliament.

Preliminary indications placed the 81-year-old president comfortably in the lead, undeterred by age and despite earlier pledges not to seek another term. He returned to the race asserting his right to rule and wagering once again on his past record. His principal challenger remains Robert Kyagulanyi, better known as Bobi Wine, the pop star turned opposition leader. Five other candidates entered the contest with little chance of altering the balance. Most votes appear divided between the yellow of the ruling party and the red of Wine’s National Unity Platform, though with a wide gap separating the two.

After four decades at the center of Ugandan politics, Museveni built his campaign around past achievements, adopting the slogan “Protecting the Gains.” He highlighted his role in overthrowing Idi Amin’s regime, ending civil war, restoring stability, and advancing economic development. Bobi Wine, now 43, offered a starkly different appeal. As leader of the National Unity Platform and runner-up in the 2021 election, he campaigned on protest voting and sweeping reform, pledging to dismantle Museveni’s rule, combat corruption, and revive democratic and human rights pathways. His campaign unfolded under heavy pressure, forcing him at times to address supporters wearing a helmet and bulletproof vest amid repeated targeting, intimidation, and restrictions on rallies.

To ensure continuity, the regime has refined a strategy of tightly managed elections that function primarily to confer legitimacy on the incumbent. This logic has been openly rejected by the opposition. Even before results were announced, Bobi Wine accused authorities of extensive violations, including internet shutdowns, large-scale fraud, kidnappings, and the arrest of opposition figures. He called on Ugandans to rise up against what he described as a criminal system and urged the international community not to legitimize the outcome. Museveni, for his part, remained silent, seemingly preparing to celebrate a seventh term.

For many Ugandans, the elections have taken on the air of political theater. The regime’s concern lies less with electoral integrity than with renewing its legitimacy through ritualized voting. Museveni effectively succeeds himself once more. On the other side, citizens have grown weary of promises of a brighter future. Their hope is no longer for change through the ballot box, but simply that the occasion passes without violence or descent into internal conflict.

The choreography of control extended well beyond election day. Authorities declared January 15 and 16 public holidays to encourage turnout, yet voting was delayed at multiple polling stations due to failures in biometric equipment, problems the president himself acknowledged. Security forces were deployed in large numbers under the pretext of protecting polling centers and preventing unrest during vote counting and the wait for official results.

Control also moved decisively into the digital sphere. Authorities tightened restrictions on public freedoms by shutting down the internet and limiting mobile services, further obstructing opposition activity. The Uganda Communications Commission justified the suspension as a measure against disinformation, electoral fraud, and incitement to violence. At the same time, dozens of human rights organizations saw their activities halted, part of a broader effort to silence critical civil society. Security forces broke up opposition events, particularly Bobi Wine’s rallies, arrested hundreds of supporters, and harassed activists and public figures. Weeks earlier, human rights lawyer Sarah Birete had been detained on charges related to unlawful access and disclosure of personal data. These actions drew condemnation from the UN High Commissioner for Human Rights and Amnesty International.

The figures themselves are largely beside the point, whether Museveni’s vote share, the opposition’s tally, or the level of turnout. What truly matters is the renewal of the leader’s seventh term.

The digital blackout followed a familiar pattern. During the January 2021 elections, authorities cut all communication services for five days until results were announced. The same tactic resurfaced this year, with internet access severed days before voting to prevent the dissemination of preliminary results, documentation of violations, and challenges to official narratives. Bobi Wine himself acknowledged that internal divisions weakened his campaign, divisions he argues were encouraged by the ruling party. This, too, forms part of a longer arc of pressure that began well before polling day.

The figures themselves are largely beside the point, whether Museveni’s vote share, the opposition’s tally, or the level of turnout. What truly matters is the renewal of the leader’s seventh term. In an electoral process so tightly sealed, the opposition finds little room to disrupt its internal logic, as transparent ballot boxes conceal outcomes settled in advance. Museveni has thrown his full weight behind securing another mandate despite mounting challenges and warnings. His decision to run again was itself a signal that the result was already anticipated, a move widely read as a continuation of his regime’s long-standing effort to tighten its grip over every lever of political life.

Beyond the immediate contest, repression has continued against veteran opposition figures. Kizza Besigye, one of the most prominent critics of Museveni, remains in detention and is facing trial before a military court. Bobi Wine has faced sustained harassment, culminating in the arrest of hundreds of his supporters and the siege of his home. In a post on X, he reported being taken to an unknown location, echoing the pattern of house arrest imposed during previous elections until results were finalized.

Seen in this light, Uganda’s latest elections resemble their predecessors. The yellow of the ruling party sweeps the ballot boxes once again, as every previous contest has ended in Museveni’s victory despite allegations of fraud, violence, and coercion. This time, however, the regime appears to be playing a longer game. The objective is not merely to defeat the opposition, but to manage the closing of an era and shape what comes after Museveni. Faced with mounting domestic and regional challenges, the president insists he remains capable of leading, promising renewed economic momentum. Yet calculations within the system extend beyond this electoral moment toward securing a rebranded continuity of power.

Attention inevitably turns to Museveni’s son, Muhoozi Kainerugaba, 51, widely viewed as the most likely successor. Though he has kept a lower profile during the campaign, his ambitions are no secret. As a senior military figure, he functions as a central pillar of the security apparatus protecting his father’s rule. Controversial at home and abroad, he openly declared two years ago that he would succeed his father as president.

Behind the façade of elections and procedural democracy, deeper challenges accumulate. Public trust in institutions has eroded as independent bodies are weakened and brought under control. Corruption spreads, policy choices narrow, and opposition forces struggle to mobilize under relentless pressure. Calls for civil disobedience have surfaced, and Bobi Wine urged supporters in his final rally to defend their rights peacefully if fraud occurred. Such appeals, however, face formidable obstacles under intensified repression and an entrenched security grip.

Internationally, the regime has benefited from shifting global priorities. As attention to democratic norms wanes amid broader geopolitical upheaval, Museveni’s inner circle recognizes the improbability of meaningful external intervention, particularly from the United States or Europe, as seen in past elections. Uganda’s engagement in regional security issues has further reduced international scrutiny. Does Kampala, then, risk sliding back to a pre-transition past, where change comes only through rebellion or a military coup, or will the country’s youth force a different outcome through a broad social uprising?

In the end, the system once again succeeds in arranging a political landscape that allows it to retain power with relative ease. The unanswered question is whether Ugandans will be able to bring the Museveni era to a close after this round. Many suspect he will relinquish authority only in death. At that point, Kampala may be forced to search for a new leader, attempt a fresh beginning, or default to the ready-made solution of dynastic succession. The near future will determine whether this equation holds or whether a third path emerges, sparing the country another cycle of uncertainty.