Amin, Museveni and the fate of Uganda

 

Review and Critique of Slow Poison – Idi Amin, Yoweri Museveni and the making of the Ugandan State, by Mahmood Mamdani, Belknap Press, Cambridge, 2025.

             This opus is an insider’s look at Uganda that will appeal to insiders knowledgeable about Uganda. It is an academic treatise so can be complicated. Essentially the author Professor Mahmood Mamdani, a Ugandan of Asian ethnicity, tells the story of Uganda’s evolution from independence forward. He mixes history, his opinions of what happened and why alongside a recitation of his personal involvement in issues of the day.

Mamdani lays initial blame for Uganda’s ills on British colonialism which established an authoritarian social/economic system that divided people into categories by race, religion, nationality, place of birth, tribe, and geography.  He credits Idi Amin with upsetting that system by rejecting Britian and expelling Asians (like Mamdani’s family) to usher in an era of black African empowerment.  Mamdani acknowledges Amin’s eccentricities and brutality, but nonetheless credits him with transforming the nation, and placing it on grounds where citizens, i.e. black Africans, were more equal before the law.  Overall, the thrust of Mamdani’s observations about Amin provides a more positive perspective on his rule.

The author dwells extensively (and not unexpectedly) on the expulsion of Asians. He discusses citizenship and enfranchisement at length throughout the book. He opines that if Asian property had been transferred to astute Baganda businessmen rather than illiterate army thugs, the economy would not have crashed so badly.   

Turning to Museveni, Amin initially saw him as the embodiment of a newer era of politics based on widespread democratic participation.  That hope, however, was not to be realized as Museveni was stymied by the reality of consolidating power and the need to improve Uganda’s standing with the international community.  Museveni succumbed to the “Washington Consensus,” that is, the necessity to implement stringent economic measures in order to become eligible for IMF/IBRD and other western aid.  Such measures began a spiral of consequences, which coupled with ongoing conflict in Uganda’s north led Museveni to resort to colonial type divisions to retain control.   Thus, he reinstituted and expanded upon internal tribal and ethnic divisions. Museveni waged unrelenting war against northerners, more for political than military objectives. As time went by, corruption increased dramatically. Army and political figures engaged in fraud and deception. Museveni cleverly distracted foreign criticism of human rights abuses and internal deficiencies by engaging openly in the regional war on terror by providing troops for operations in Somalia and Sudan.  This persuaded the United States and other powers to back away from confrontation on internal Ugandan issues.

The most interesting (and coherent) part of the book is the summary conclusion chapter. It condenses all that went before into an understandable essay.  Mamdani concludes that Uganda is a mess. He professes that broad based accountable democracy might turn the tide but offers little hope that will happen in the near future.

Critique

I thought the book jumped around too much.  Ostensibly a chronicle, Mamdani interjected anecdotes that jumped forward or backward in time. It was hard to keep track of where you were in the sequence of events.  

I spotted several errors of fact, several misspellings and misuse of words.  None of which ought to occur in a scholarly book published by a reputable press.  That I, not a Ugandan specialist, could spot such mistakes, leads me to ask what other errors exist in the history that I did not discern.

To wit: In chapter ten, Mamdani reports that in the1980s he conferred with Joseph Kabila on the terrace of the Imperial Hotel in Kampala. Joseph Kabila was only a child then. Mamdani met his father Laurent Kabila. Later the author notes that in 1986 he flew to Rwanda.  Obviously, judging from the statement of being met by James Kabarebe, a prominent Rwandan army figure in the Tutsi regime that took power after the 1994 genocide, the date should be 1996. There are other mistakes regarding Rwanda; in chapter twelve, Fred Rwigyema’s name is misspelled and Paul Kagame, later (and current) president of Rwanda, is given the incorrect first name of Alex. In the same chapter Laurent Kabila is again called Joseph. Perhaps intentionally to offset the ousting of “Joseph” Mobutu in 1997.  While it is correct that Mobutu’s baptismal name was Joseph Desiré he had gone by Mobutu Sese Seko for the preceding 25 years.  I note that in his conclusion chapter, Mamdani got the Rwandan and Congolese names correct.  Perhaps the most egregious error, however, is in chapter 13 calling the Lord’s Resistance Army, the Lord’s Redemption Army.   Joseph Kony’s cult is well documented as the Lord’s Resistance Army. 

Nitpicks

In chapter 13, South Sudan in 2005 is referred to as ‘independent.’  ‘Autonomous’ would be appropriate.  Independence did not come until 2011.  In the final chapter when describing the population of Luwero “consisting of Baganda and Banyarwanda (both ethnically Bantu), as well as other northerners.”  Surely Mamdani means “southerners.” 

Recommendation

All in all, I enjoyed the book. It fills gaps in the history of Uganda and provides a good perspective on what happened. The “I was there” factor adds to the veracity of the story, although the digressions into political philosophy of who was thinking what at the time in the intellectual community, clouds the history. Mamdani names names, which again – when he gets them right – adds credibility to his memories.  Ugandans, students and observers of Africa will find this an interesting book.

Additional Comment:

As I write in January 2026. Museveni has just been elected to another term as president.

Intrigued by Mamdani’s assessments of Amin and Museveni, I took the opportunity to review various U.S. government officials’ assessments of the two.  I read oral history transcripts on the www.adst.org site. Essentially the histories, mine included, are reflections of places, events, people and issues that Foreign Service personnel encountered during their careers.

Amin was characterized, especially by Ambassador Tom Melady and DCM/chargé Bob Keeley as the bloody tyrant that he was. They give particulars. They found him difficult to deal with and a terrible, capricious manager of government.  Ultimately the U.S. decision to evacuate the embassy in 1973 was predicated on Amin’s unpredictability and threats against Americans.  These two interlocutors with Amin would give him no credit – as Mamdani does – for improving Uganda.

Museveni is more of a mixed bag. Those of us who knew him earlier in his career found him articulate, engaging, and open to ideas and discussion.  He was always self-deprecating and had a wry sense of humor.  His economic/social vision for Uganda was practical and being implemented. Contrary to Mamdani, we Americans felt that conformity to global financial standards and requirements was the best way forward for Uganda.  Throughout Americans questioned Museveni’s devotion to non-political party democracy, but at least initially it worked.  Besides my recollection, I recommend Mike Southwick, who was ambassador from 1994 to 1997, and Steve Browning who served from 2006 to 2009. Browning found Museveni, after more than twenty years in power, to be more imperial and less prone to listening to or following advice from the outside.  That characteristic has only gotten worse in the last 16 years.

Although a great number of Foreign Service personnel have recorded their career histories with ADST, many have not. I was disappointed to find that after the mid-nineties, only Southwick and Browning registered memories of Uganda. I would have liked more. Concomitantly, I note that of my eight successors as ambassador to Rwanda, only one, Mike Arietti, has done a history. Again, I would love to know what others’ impressions of people and places were.

Near Death in the Desert

 

A review of Skeletons on the Zahara – a true story of survival by Dean King, Back Bay Books, 2004.

 

Not for the squeamish!  Unfortunately, I read this book during the Christmas holiday season when comfort and plenty sustained me.  It was a stark contrast to the squalor, deprivation, and cruelty suffered by the victims of an 1815 shipwreck on Africa’s Atlantic coast. The crew were enslaved and held for ransom by local tribesmen.

The facts of the event were drawn from bestselling accounts written by Captain James Riley of the sailing ship Commerce and one of his crewmen Archie Robbins.  Due to currents, winds, and poor navigation, the ship ran aground off Cape Barbas, in what today is Western Sahara.  The men all made it ashore where they were savaged and captured by local tribesmen. The tribes of that era were Islamic. They hated and feared white Christians, whom they deemed sub-human.  The crewmen were outnumbered and without weapons. To survive they had to comply.   This they did. The narrative describes the ravages of hunger and thirst, of beatings, neglect and deliberate cruelty.   The reader will learn a lot about the human body’s physical ability to persevere. That plus strong mental determination to live sustained the crewmen during their ordeal.

The book is replete with information about the tribes who captured the crew, about their own lives of privation.  The western Sahara (spelled Zahara in the title in recognition of the spelling used in 1815) was a bleak landscape of hard rock, sand and occasional scrub. Water was rare.  This part of the Sahara was probably the most challenging for human life on the planet.  The tribes were nomadic. They relied totally on camels. (A reader will glean more information than necessary about camels.) The tribal culture was dominated by men. The families displayed an astonishing hospitality towards each other, but not to foreign Christians, whom they demeaned, brutalized and starved.

Ultimately, Captain Riley cut a deal with a tribesman to pay a ransom when he and his men were delivered to freedom in Morrocco.  There was much reneging, renegotiating, violence and intrigue as the crew – still slaves – was marched north to safety.  Robbins, who had been separated from his fellows early on, followed a sperate path towards freedom a year or so later.

This is a book about survival.  It is a remarkable testament to the fortitude of individuals who sustained themselves in very trying circumstances.  The book also accurately portrays Northwest Africa of the epoch – its geography, its peoples and its cultures.  One cannot help but wonder how much of the culture lingers on in modern Western Sahara.   

Peace Corps in Nigeria

 

A review of A Snowflake in the Jungle – My two years in the Peace Corps Nigeria, West Africa, 1964-66, by James Jablonski, Publisher: Gravel Pit Press, 2025

    This memoir of time spent in Nigeria is not a snapshot. It is more a full-length feature film. The story is drawn from a daily journal and scads of letters home. It faithfully recounts Jim Jablonski’s – JJ as he was called by villagers - profound Peace Corps experience in a Nigerian village.  He was the only white man to reside in Affa - perhaps the inspiration for the title - and was given the task of creating a cooperative to grow and market vegetables.  The memoir traces the hurdles involved: convincing villagers to participate, securing the land, inputs and water, protecting the gardens from pests such as insects and wild cattle, the hard never-ending physical labor required, the vagaries of climate, and the difficulties of marketing.  But most important to the project’s success were the human interactions, the relationships built, the quarrels ironed out and friendships developed.  Jablonski chronicles these developments as they unfold.

    Throughout the book, the author muses about economic development and the difficulties of convincing villagers who are enthusiastic about an idea but are reluctant to do the work required to implement it. He judges that the pains of poverty are offset by rich relationships and spirituality. JJ learns much about Igbo culture, about the village hierarchy, about hospitality, marriages, burials and other ceremonies where cultural obligations take priority over modern logic. He observes the subordinate role of women.  He notes the dichotomy between the work ethic of school leavers who disdain physical labor and garden participants. He discusses the clash between traditional juju religion and Christianity but participates in both.  In summary, JJ becomes subsumed in village life. At first, they tolerated him, but because of his industriousness, came to appreciate him.

    This memoir will appeal to those who want the nitty gritty of what a day-to-day Peace Corps experience was like. Folks who served in West Africa will certainly want to compare JJ’s experience to their own.  Overall, the many anecdotes reveal a life changing experience for all involved – Jablonski certainly, but also his Nigerian friends, acquaintances, counterparts, fellow volunteers, missionary friends and government officials. That is what the Peace Corps is supposed to do.  Make a difference.

    Comment.  One cannot help but wonder, as does the author, whether the project can survive the absence of leadership provided by the PCV.  I believe that by their nature cooperatives have short life spans. Early success may keep them going but over time enthusiasm wanes, people move on, conflict arises and the venture expires.  That might have been the fate of JJ's cooperative but there was little time for internal dynamics to erode. Instead, the project was a victim of Nigeria's terrible civil war that reduced Biafra and Affa to ashes.     

 

Tropical Ice, Elephants and Adventure

 

A review of Outsider – A life with the Elephants and Mountains of Africa by Iain Allan, Vanguard Press, 2024

In this memoir Iain Allan retraces his times in Kenya from the 1950s to the present.  Originally from Scotland, he arrived in Nairobi as a preteen. There he found the stiff British Kenya culture stultifying. He did not prosper in school but found his niche in rock climbing. He honed this skill and summited Mounts Kilimanjaro and Kenya by the age of eighteen. Upon graduation he followed loves to England and Australia before realizing that his destiny lay in Kenya.

Once back home, Allan became a safari guide specializing in taking clients up Kilimanjaro and Kenya. On his own time, he pioneered climbing routes on those mountains and on other cliffs.  (Indeed, a good part of the memoir details just what was done and where. Rock climbers will undoubtedly find these descriptions fascinating.) Ultimately Allan started his own company called Tropical Ice that focused on adventure experiences on the mountains but also in the bush, especially walking treks through the national parks of Tsavo West and Tsavo East. 

The author recounts good safari stories of encounters with wild animals. He tells of conquests of mountains around the globe. Throughout he names people – friends and adversaries – encountered along the way.  He muses over changes in clients’ attitudes towards safaris ranging from enthusiastic flexibility in days past to demands for precise undeviating information today. He attributes this to the impact of modern information-on-demand culture. He also tracks the vicissitudes of Kenyan government policy regarding poaching. Finally, he notes with understanding and regret that Kenya’s burgeoning population increasingly puts pressure on the wild spaces and creatures that he loves.   

In sum Allan’s recollections constitute a good story; one well worth reading. People who know Kenya – its geography, people and challenges -  will enjoy his perspective. He called them as he saw them.  I learned a lot about rock climbing.  I especially enjoyed the passages about walks along the Tsavo River.  They brought back memories. My wife Connie and I participated in one of those excursions in 1983 with Iain and Mohamed as guides.

Review from The Literary Reporter

 

My African Anthology by Robert E. Gribbin is a vivid, multifaceted collection of stories and vignettes that transport readers into the heart of contemporary Africa.

With the keen insight of a seasoned diplomat, Gribbin captures the complexities, beauty, and challenges of the continent through tales that span everything from Gacaca justice in Rwanda to mysterious disappearances, rebel encounters, and mythic beasts. Each story pulses with authenticity, whether depicting the quiet strength of landscapes or the charged tension of political intrigue.

Gribbin’s prose is evocative, rooted in lived experience, and often poetic, as shown in his lush descriptions of acacia-scented air and towering mountains.

The collection is not just an exploration of Africa’s external realities but also of its spiritual and cultural soul. For readers seeking a deeper, more human understanding of Africa, beyond the headlines, this anthology offers a compelling, memorable journey into its many truths.

Secrets from Africa?

 

       My latest tale from Africa, Freida's Secret, is now available on amazon as both an e-book ($2.99) and a paperback ($13.99). I enjoyed writing this one. It starts with a recitation of the famous, but ill fated, expedition to relieve Emin Pasha and morphs into a story about his daughter Freida and subsequently the efforts of a former Peace Corps Volunteer to discover the secret. 

    The search for Freida’s secret begins in 19^th century Africa, leads onward to Germany before and during the world wars and ends in Idi Amin’s Uganda.   African explorer Henry M. Stanley’s 1887 expedition to relieve beleaguered Emin Pasha, governor of Equatoria Province of Sudan foundered in the depths of the equatorial rainforest prior to arriving on the shore of Lake Albert where Pasha, and his daughter Freida, who were threaten by Islamic jihadists resided. After much dithering, they reluctantly decamped from Equatoria joining Stanley on a march to the coast. That is history, but what happened to young Freida as she carried a secret forward in life? A mixed-race child she was shunted off to Germany where she confronted the strictures of culture and Nazism. Her secret preserved until uncovered by an American research student in the 1970s.  He in turn set out for Africa to find the truth.  

    Author Gribbin weaves an intriguing tale that combines history and fiction. It is buttressed throughout by realistic descriptions of places – the horrors of the jungle, first sighting of the Mountains of the Moon, the slave port of Bagamoyo, steamship travel through the Suez, Hamburg during the Nazi era, Peace Corps travels in Tanzania, Idi Amin’s Uganda - and people – boisterous Stanley, enigmatic Emin Pasha, self-confident Freida and intrepid Gerson. In sum, it is a heartwarming tale that leads us to ask – what other secrets lie undiscovered?

Insight, Views and Advice from an Africanist

 

 A comment on Born in Kansas but made in Africa by Mark Wentling. Ebook off Amazon.

     Wentling had a long and storied career in Africa as a Peace Corps Volunteer, Peace Corps staffer, USAID employee and contractor for various NGOs.  He has visited all of Africa’s 54 nations. (I’m jealous. I only have 46.)  Mark has written about thirteen books describing his experiences. Perhaps this is his last one. He goes back over well plowed territory to recount and relate pithy bits of conversations, mostly with Africans. These recollections are full of opinions, both theirs and Wentling’s, which collectively reveal a realistic cynicism about Africa – about culture, about the role of experts, about American development efforts – guided and misguided - about whites in a black land, and foremost about how interlocutors see themselves in their societies.

    If there are themes in this collection they are: home grown corruption complicates everything, development projects have a short life span, western ideas for agricultural progress are flawed.  Wentling harps on the last point. Africa’s food production has declined due to urban migration, poor soil quality, uncertain land rights, insufficient inputs, market issues, and limited irrigation.  Efforts to mitigate these constraints have not been very effective.

    The book is somewhat difficult to follow. Ostensibly organized along chronological lines by decades, nonetheless it jumps around forward and backward in time and across regions. You can be reading an anecdote from Niger in the 1970s and then be transported to Mozambique in the 90s.  Fortunately, there is no plot, just the stream of anecdotes and observations. 

    All told, I found the book to be interesting and truthful.  Wentling admits that the Africa he first knew is gone. He describes the past and his experiences well, but the continent is changing as are attitudes, policies and possibilities.  Increasingly decisions of what Africa is to become rest with its peoples.