By Boaz Kabururu Byayesu
On May 12, 2026, President Yoweri Kaguta Museveni is expected to take the oath of office, extending one of the most consequential political eras in Uganda’s modern history.
For supporters, critics, and even neutral observers, the moment will symbolise more than another inauguration.
It will represent a national reflection on stability, continuity, freedom, and the difficult question of what holds a country together in an increasingly fragmented world. Across Africa and beyond, nations are increasingly confronted by instability and conflict.
The prolonged Russia–Ukraine war continues to reshape global security and energy markets, while the recent 40-day U.S.–Iran conflict has exposed the fragility of geopolitical order in the Middle East.
Elsewhere, many countries continue to struggle with insurgencies, ideological polarisation, ethnic fragmentation, military coups, economic volatility, and institutional collapse.
Against this backdrop, Uganda’s relative internal stability over the last four decades has become one of the central arguments advanced by supporters of Museveni and the National Resistance Movement government.
While political debates remain intense and criticisms persist, there is also a growing body of thought that views Museveni not merely as a political survivor but as a strategic stabilising force whose leadership helped prevent Uganda from descending back into cycles of violent fragmentation.
To understand why this argument resonates with many Ugandans, one must revisit the Uganda that existed before 1986. The country had endured years of military coups, ideological conflict, insurgencies, state collapse, and civil war.
The entire region was consumed by instability. Northern Uganda suffered through years of rebellion and insurgent violence.
The Allied Democratic Forces destabilised western Uganda. Karamoja and northeastern Uganda battled armed insecurity and cattle-rustling conflicts for decades. State institutions were weak, trust in government was fractured, and the idea of national cohesion itself remained fragile.
Neutral observers argue that one of Museveni’s greatest achievements has been restoring and sustaining internal security across most parts of the country for nearly four decades. Uganda today experiences a level of nationwide territorial stability that was largely absent during previous political eras.
The insurgencies that once destabilised large parts of the country have either been defeated, weakened, or pushed beyond Uganda’s borders through military operations and regional security cooperation.
The defeat of the Lord’s Resistance Army insurgency in northern Uganda marked a turning point in the country’s post-conflict recovery.
Communities once devastated by war gradually returned to normal life, infrastructure expanded, and economic activity resumed.
Similarly, sustained military operations against the ADF significantly reduced the scale of attacks that once threatened western Uganda.
In Karamoja, despite persistent challenges, disarmament and security interventions transformed a region previously synonymous with armed insecurity into one increasingly connected to national economic life.
Yet perhaps even more remarkable than the absence of large-scale insurgencies is the absence of sustained internal armed political conflict despite Uganda’s intense political differences.
Since 1986, Uganda has witnessed fierce opposition politics, ideological disagreements, protests, defections, criticism of government policy, and heated election cycles. Former bush war fighters, political rivals, former ministers, and outspoken critics have openly challenged the NRM government.
Still, unlike many post-conflict states, Uganda has largely avoided descending into full-scale internal armed political confrontation.
For many observers, this reflects a deliberate philosophy of political management rooted less in purging opponents and more in absorbing them into the national framework. This is where Museveni’s politics of reconciliation becomes central to understanding his long political durability.
Political reconciliation under the NRM has often functioned not merely as moral symbolism, but as statecraft.
In his Independence Day address at Kololo in October 2025, Museveni publicly welcomed back Col. Samson Mande, a former liberation fighter who had fallen out with the system and reportedly engaged with rebel-linked activities while in exile.
Rather than framing Mande solely as an enemy, Museveni framed his return as evidence of Uganda’s peace and the NRM’s longstanding philosophy of reconciliation and forgiveness.
That moment was symbolic of a broader political culture the NRM has cultivated over decades. Instead of relying exclusively on permanent exclusion, the system frequently reabsorbs dissenters, former adversaries, and critics back into public life.
In doing so, it weakens long-term hostility while projecting the image of a state confident enough to embrace reintegration.
Few examples illustrate this more dramatically when we study the case of Chris Rwakasisi.
Once condemned and imprisoned for decades under severe conditions, Rwakasisi was eventually pardoned by Museveni and later emerged not as a permanent enemy of the state, but as one of the most vocal advocates of reconciliation and forgiveness.
His transformation from condemned adversary to presidential advisor became a powerful political symbol of the NRM’s reconciliation strategy. This pattern repeats itself across Uganda’s NRM political history.
Figures such as Aggrey Awori, Moses Ali, Norbert Mao, Betty Kamya, and even politically sensitive figures linked to previous regimes eventually found space within the broader NRM framework.
The inclusion of such figures allowed the government to present itself as a broad national platform capable of accommodating divergent views, experiences, and ideological backgrounds.
Analysts argue that this politics of inclusion reduced the likelihood of permanent political alienation, thereby lowering the risk of violent opposition movements re-emerging at scale.
This approach also explains why several former opponents who left Uganda during the periods of political disagreement later returned voluntarily without prosecution or persecution.
Former military figures such as Col. Mande, Col. Kyakabale, and Col. Kashillingi all became examples frequently cited by NRM supporters to demonstrate that political dissent in Uganda does not necessarily translate into permanent exile or systematic elimination.
Critics may dispute the depth of this openness, but even they acknowledge that Uganda maintains one of the most vibrant opposition political environments in the region.
Opposition parties continue to organise, criticise government policy, contest elections, hold rallies, and maintain strong public visibility. Former Bush War heroes openly challenge the ruling government.
Media debates remain active and often highly confrontational. Political activism continues to shape public discourse daily.
This environment forms part of the broader argument advanced by those who believe Museveni’s leadership preserved fundamental freedoms despite the tensions that naturally accompany long incumbencies.
Analysts as well point to the expansion of freedoms of worship, movement, enterprise, political participation, and public debate since 1986. Religious institutions operate freely across the country.
Citizens travel throughout Uganda without fear of crossing frontlines or conflict zones. Political opinions are openly expressed in markets, universities, radio stations, online spaces, and public gatherings.
Uganda’s political discourse, while often chaotic, remains highly active and socially embedded. Equally significant has been the increasing participation of women and youth in national governance structures.
Under the NRM system, women gained formal representation structures at parliamentary and local government levels, helping institutionalise their role in public decision-making.
Youth representation similarly expanded, creating channels for younger Ugandans to engage directly within political institutions.
Neutral observers argue that these structures helped stabilise participation by ensuring broader sections of society felt represented within the national system rather than excluded from it.
The government also frequently highlights the diversity reflected within cabinet, parliament, and local government leadership.
Uganda’s political structure includes representation from different regions, ethnic communities, and political backgrounds.
This inclusiveness, according to NRM supporters, has helped reduce perceptions of regional domination while supporting more equitable national resource distribution. Programs such as the Parish Development Model are framed within this broader philosophy of inclusive national transformation.
The government argues that wealth creation must move beyond urban centres and directly reach rural communities through localised economic empowerment structures. These programs have had their success stories countrywide, politically, they reinforce the NRM’s narrative that stability ultimately translates into economic development and improved household welfare.
Another dimension strengthening Museveni’s support base heading into 2026 is the perception of ideological consistency. Museveni’s supporters often portray him as a leader whose worldview remains anchored in long-term state-building rather than short-term populism.
They argue that while political personalities change, Uganda’s strategic challenges remain largely the same: maintaining security, managing ethnic balance, controlling extremism, expanding infrastructure, stabilising the economy, and navigating a volatile regional environment. In this argument, continuity itself becomes an asset.
The Great Lakes region remains one of the most politically sensitive zones on the continent. Conflicts in eastern Congo, instability in Sudan, terrorism threats, refugee movements, and shifting geopolitical alignments continue to shape Uganda’s security calculations.
Within such a context, many supporters view Museveni’s long institutional memory and regional influence as stabilising factors rather than liabilities. This does not mean the country lacks challenges or dissatisfaction.
Youth unemployment, corruption concerns, governance debates, rising political impatience, and economic inequality continue to generate frustration among sections of the population.
Uganda’s democracy remains a heavily contested terrain, and critics continue to demand reforms, generational transition, and stronger institutional independence. Yet even within this criticism lies an important reality.
Much of Uganda’s political contestation occurs within a functioning state framework rather than amid state collapse. The argument advanced by Museveni’s supporters is that stability itself created the space within which these debates can occur.
This may ultimately explain why Museveni continues to retain political relevance deep into his presidency. For supporters, he represents more than an individual politician.
He symbolises continuity after chaos, reconciliation after fragmentation, and institutional steadiness in a region where instability often returns faster than expected.
As Uganda approaches May 12, 2026, the central debate may therefore not simply be about personalities or elections. It may instead revolve around a deeper national calculation about risk, continuity, and the pace of political transition.
For millions of Ugandans, especially those who remember the instability of earlier decades, stability is not an abstract slogan.
It is a lived memory.
And in that political memory, Yoweri Kaguta Museveni remains, for many, not merely a president to support or oppose, but a central pillar within Uganda’s long search for peaceful growth, continuity, national cohesion, infrastructure modernisation, economic transformation, and the steady progress that has seen Uganda attain its celebrated middle-income status while positioning itself for a more stable and prosperous future.