More Related News
BUSINESS NEWS
Sports News
By Evan Sande Ndahura
The Roman lawyer and statesman Cicero warned that inter arma enim silent leges—amid arms, the laws fall silent. It was a caution against the tendency of military power to overshadow legal authority during times of political tension and national crisis. More than two thousand years later, that ancient warning appears increasingly relevant to contemporary Uganda, where the boundary between civilian governance and military influence has become the subject of intense public debate.
The dramatic arrest of veteran lawyer and former Kampala Lord Mayor Erias Lukwago on June 15, 2026, has once again thrust this debate into the national spotlight. According to reports, armed security operatives believed to be attached to the Special Forces Command stormed his residence in Wakaliga and took him into custody shortly after he had publicly discussed difficulties in serving court documents on the Chief of Defence Forces, Gen. Muhoozi Kainerugaba. The timing of the arrest immediately ignited political controversy because Lukwago is one of the lead advocates representing Dr. Kizza Besigye and Hajj Obeid Lutale in the ongoing treason proceedings.
The incident would perhaps have attracted less attention had it occurred in isolation. Yet it forms part of a wider pattern of events that have caused many Ugandans to question whether military influence is increasingly shaping matters that constitutionally belong to civilian institutions.
At the centre of this controversy is the role of the Chief of Defence Forces himself. Gen. Muhoozi Kainerugaba has, on numerous occasions, used the social media platform X to comment on political affairs, opposition leaders, judicial matters, and issues ordinarily reserved for civilian authorities. In recent months, he has publicly made statements regarding Dr. Kizza Besigye, including declarations that many legal observers regarded as incompatible with the presumption of innocence and the right to a fair hearing. Reports indicate that he reiterated threats directed at Besigye even as legal proceedings concerning those statements were being initiated before the courts.
The legal challenge filed by Besigye sought judicial intervention regarding those statements and the alleged violation of his constitutional rights. The High Court reportedly directed the CDF to file a defence. Yet almost simultaneously, the legal team attempting to effect service on him publicly complained of difficulties in locating him for that purpose. Hours later, the lead lawyer pursuing the matter found himself in military custody. Whether coincidence or otherwise, the optics of such events inevitably fuel public suspicion.
The concern extends beyond one lawyer or one court case. It concerns the constitutional architecture of Uganda itself. The Constitution establishes a system in which courts administer justice, lawyers represent clients without intimidation, and the military remains subordinate to civilian authority. The armed forces are entrusted with defending the territorial integrity of the nation, not arbitrating political disputes or becoming participants in partisan contests.
Throughout Uganda's recent history, there have been recurring allegations of military involvement in matters traditionally handled by civilian institutions. The arrests of opposition figures, allegations of unlawful detention, the use of military courts to prosecute civilians, and the increasing visibility of security agencies in political affairs have all generated persistent constitutional debates. Critics argue that such developments gradually weaken public confidence in the independence of the judiciary and the supremacy of civilian authority.
Supporters of the government often respond that extraordinary security threats require robust state action and that national stability must remain paramount. Yet constitutionalism is tested not when dealing with popular citizens but when dealing with critics, opponents, and dissidents. The true measure of the rule of law is whether legal protections apply equally to both the powerful and the powerless.
The arrest of Lukwago also raises another profound question: Can a lawyer safely and independently represent a client in a politically sensitive case without fear of interference? The legal profession occupies a unique place within every constitutional order. Lawyers are not enemies of the state merely because they represent unpopular clients. Their role is to ensure that justice is administered according to law rather than according to power. Once advocates begin to fear consequences for carrying out their professional duties, the administration of justice itself becomes vulnerable.
The growing militarisation of public discourse is perhaps most visible in the language increasingly employed by those occupying positions of military authority. Public declarations about opponents, threats directed at political actors, and commentary on ongoing legal disputes may energise supporters, but they also risk creating the impression that force is becoming more influential than law. In such circumstances, citizens begin to wonder whether courts remain the ultimate arbiters of disputes or whether political power has assumed that role.
It is precisely this dilemma that Cicero warned against centuries ago. When institutions of force become dominant within the public sphere, laws do not necessarily disappear. Courts continue to sit. Statutes remain in force. Constitutional provisions continue to exist on paper. Yet the public gradually loses confidence that these institutions possess the authority to restrain power. The law remains written, but its voice grows faint.
The Besigye-Lutale proceedings, the legal challenge against the CDF, and the arrest of Erias Lukwago therefore represent more than isolated incidents. Together, they have become a national conversation about constitutionalism, civilian authority, and the proper role of the military within a democratic state.
Uganda's future will not ultimately be determined by the strength of its security institutions alone. It will be determined by whether those institutions remain accountable to the Constitution and subject to the law. For history repeatedly teaches that nations endure not because power is strong, but because power itself is restrained.
The enduring challenge before Uganda is therefore simple but profound: Shall the Republic be governed by law, or shall law increasingly yield to power?
That is the question contained within Cicero's timeless warning:
Inter arma enim silent leges.
And it is a question Uganda can no longer afford to ignore.
About the Writer
Evan Sande Ndahura is a Ugandan political and legal commentator, columnist, poet, and social justice advocate whose writings focus on governance, constitutionalism, democracy, and the political economy of power in Africa. He is widely published on issues of judicial accountability, electoral justice, human rights, and institutional reform, with a particular emphasis on Uganda's political and legal systems. Ndahura writes from a Pan-African critical perspective, interrogating the failures of state institutions and the lived realities of ordinary citizens under entrenched systems of power. He believes that the liberation of Africa will occur through a mighty pen, not the gun.