Uganda will hold general elections on 15 January. The campaign, which was initially calm, has been marked with violence in recent weeks as security forces clamp down on opposition supporters. The country’s six-term, 81-year-old president, Yoweri Museveni is running yet again, and with his firm grip on the levers of state power, he has re-election all but locked down. Still, there will be plenty of real competition for seats at the subnational level where campaigns for the parliamentary and local government seats have been lively.

Uganda’s politics defy easy categorisation. Despite a clear authoritarian trend, there is significant public participation and debate in its political life, and more opposition representation in state institutions than seen in neighbours such as Burundi, Rwanda and Tanzania, whose lopsided, Soviet-style election results contrast with those in Uganda. But the future of this system is hardly secure, and as Ugandans prepare to choose their leaders for the next five years, many are thinking about what may come further down the road, and whether the more democratic aspects of the current flawed system can be preserved. Much will depend on who will succeed the octogenarian Museveni when age or health concerns finally require him to step down, or should he die in office. His son, army chief Muhoozi Kainerugaba, remains the favourite. But many in Uganda and the countries nearby are less than enthusiastic about this prospect, given Muhoozi’s impulsive temperament. 

The elections come amid turmoil all around Uganda. This includes war between Rwanda’s M23 proxies and the Democratic Republic of Congo, as well as deepening armed group violence in DRC’s Ituri province on Uganda’s western border, and worrying instability in South Sudan to the north. But the greatest immediate concern among many Ugandans is growing popular discontent in neighbouring East African countries Kenya and Tanzania. There, youth frustrated by unaccountable leadership, the rising cost of living and the lack of job opportunities have increasingly expressed their anger in street protests. In both neighbours, authorities have responded to such mobilisation with violence. The decision to quell dissent in this manner has shocked many, especially in Kenya, where vibrant political contestation and opposition is the norm.

As Ugandans see pre-election violence ticking up in their own country, and contemplate the post-Museveni transition that is surely coming, many worry that Uganda will join its neighbours in a pattern of escalating grievance, repression and unrest. But that scenario is not inevitable, particularly if President Museveni uses his remaining time in office to invest in systemic safeguards that could become part of his legacy and help lower the risk of a fraught transition. 

So far, the months leading up to the vote have followed a now-familiar script. The ruling National Resistance Movement (NRM) has dominated the political space, cranking up its formidable machinery to ensure Museveni’s re-election and to secure majorities in parliament and local government. The state has deployed masses of police and other forces to suppress opposition activity and forestall election-related unrest. It has recruited an additional 10,000 police officers and 100,000 temporary special constables to secure polling stations on election day.

As in the past, the opposition is struggling to compete in this climate. Museveni’s key opponent, National Unity Party (NUP) leader Robert Kyagulanyi, who gained prominence as a singer and is also known as Bobi Wine, has seen hundreds of his party members arrested and some tortured, including his personal body guard Edward Ssebufu. Another leading opposition figure, Kizza Besigye, has been in jail for more than a year, accused of plotting to overthrow the government, a charge he denies. Meanwhile, the government has obstructed the campaigns of opposition parties in other ways, trying to break up their rallies, hindering them from obtaining the public funding to which they are constitutionally entitled and limiting their access to local and national media. 

Beyond the challenges created by state repression, the opposition remains fractured, with parties weakened by internal dissent unable to form a united front. In August 2024, Besigye’s outfit, the Forum for Democratic Change, split between members loyal to him and others siding with Patrick Amuriat, who is now the party president. His base divided, Besigye went on to form the People’s Front for Freedom (PFF). Should the PFF and NUP join forces behind a single presidential candidate, that person might present a serious challenge to Museveni. But Besigye and Kyagulanyi, even before the former was arrested and hence excluded from running, could not agree upon which of them should run, nor to support a joint candidate. It is not the first time the two have failed to put personal ambition aside. Meanwhile, an NUP-PFF effort to form a coalition for purposes of parliamentary races fell short, resulting only in a general cooperation agreement. So did a parallel initiative by the NUP and the Alliance for National Transformation, an opposition group led by the respected retired major general Mugisha Muntu.

With opposition parties showing little appetite for working together against the ruling party, they focus instead on decrying Museveni’s prolonged stay in power, as well as the need to address high unemployment and other socio-economic woes. The latter are both real problems and sources of grievance for many Ugandans – although at present they may be less severe than in neighbouring countries. The Ugandan economy has enjoyed an uptick, thanks to skyrocketing gold export revenues and sustained foreign investment as well as more competent fiscal management than elsewhere in East Africa. Still, worries about the future, and highly uneven distribution of the fruits of the economic upturn, have redounded to the opposition’s benefit, creating some momentum for its platform, at least in local races. Though the NRM machine will do all it can to prevent an opposition majority at any level of government, these local races are often less tightly controlled than the presidential election, allowing for genuine political participation where personal relations and reputation within the community matter more than party affiliation. Down the line, they also pave the way for opposition voices’ representation in parliament. 

Despite the tensions between government and opposition, little violence marred the first eight weeks of campaigning, which began at the end of September. Both sides showed a sense of caution. Some opposition members told Crisis Group that they avoided holding large rallies and focused on discrete engagements to avoid attracting police attention. State forces avoided serious confrontations with opposition politicians, and the NRM’s messaging stressed de-escalation. The NRM’s tight links to the military mean that it has a firm hand on the security situation, lowering the chances of unrest.

But the level of violence has increased nonetheless. As Kyagulanyi and the NUP seemed to gain momentum, drawing large crowds to their rallies, they have faced what the Museveni challenger describes as “targeted intimidation”. Police beat NUP supporters on several occasions and used tear gas to disrupt rallies. On 30 December, police arrested prominent rights lawyer Sarah Bireete, who chairs the East and Horn of Africa Election Observers Network, saying she had disclosed private voter data, a charge she denies. Gangs allied with the ruling party have also been attacking opposition gatherings.

There are also signs that tensions between the authorities and opposition voters may worsen. On 2 January, upon the authorities’ request, satellite internet provider Starlink suspended operations in Uganda, reinforcing fears that online communication would, as in the past, be constrained at election time. This followed a late December directive from senior officials that voters disperse after casting their ballots, which would inhibit the ability of observers to provide a check on voting integrity, including by observing the count. Some government officials have raised this very point. Whether resentment over such measures could boil over into serious unrest is a question at this point – but the more that the government moves in the direction of repression, the greater the risk of major backlash.

Ugandans are keenly aware of recent troubles elsewhere in East Africa. In November 2025, thousands were reportedly killed during a brutal crackdown on demonstrations following sham polls in Tanzania. Dozens died in anti-government protests in Kenya in June 2024 and July 2025. Both the Kenyan and the Tanzanian events were widely discussed on Ugandan social media, with users noting that citizens in these countries were assailing governments that had not delivered on their promises. Many drew explicit comparisons with their own struggles. A flurry of cross-border organisation has ensued, with Ugandan, Kenyan and Tanzanian activists gathering in solidarity with their neighbours. In December, for instance, clashes erupted between border police and Kenyans who tried to join protests in Tanzania, and many demonstrated outside the Tanzania High Commission in Nairobi.

But as citizens share tactics, so too, do governments. Over the past year, authorities from these three key East African states have attacked or detained dozens of opposition figures and civil society activists from adjacent countries. In January 2025, unknown assailants abducted Maria Sarungi Tsehai, a Tanzanian campaigner, in Nairobi before releasing her shortly afterward. Months later, in May, Uganda’s Agather Atuhaire and Kenya’s Boniface Mwangi, two popular activists, were assaulted while in custody in Tanzania. Uganda also arrested Kenyan activists Bob Njagi and Nicholas Oyoo, holding them incommunicado for nearly a month.

The clock is ticking for Uganda’s long-serving leader. Museveni came to power in 1986 on the back of a “bush war” that ended the rule of independence-era politician Milton Obote. He surrounded himself with former comrades in arms, bringing a degree of order to the country after years of upheaval. In economic matters, he has been a technocrat, creating conditions for rapid growth. His approach to governance also once drew wide praise. Starting in 1995, he worked to give a greater sense of political participation to peripheral areas that had felt neglected, and whose grievances helped fuel civil wars in the 1970s and 1980s. Under Museveni, the government massively increased the number of parliamentary and municipal council seats and effectively built the fundamentals of a popular, if limited, democracy. The extraordinary scale of the 15 January elections, when close to 2 million seats at various levels will be up for grabs, reflects these earlier efforts.

Over time, however, Museveni and the NRM have earned a reputation for authoritarianism through a security apparatus that makes no secret of its loyalty to the ruling party and keeps a lid on the opposition. The NRM’s top officials have lucrative business interests which their political positions help protect. After six terms in office, the system that Museveni has done so much to shape clearly is not one that offers many prospects of political renewal. This is not to say that the ruling party is unpopular: indeed, its rhetoric strikes a chord with rural populations, giving it a well of support across the country. But Museveni is an integral part of the NRM’s popular appeal, and he is rumoured to be in declining health and seems less and less able to control day-to-day affairs. The political class muses that he may even be unable to finish the additional term he is poised to win.

Hence all the talk of his son, Muhoozi Kainerugaba, assuming the presidency. Speculation that his father has been grooming him as heir dates to 2013, when Ugandan newspapers published a letter from former intelligence chief General David Sejusa warning that a dynastic succession was in the offing. Sejusa voiced his opposition to such a plan, as did others who had fought alongside Museveni in the “bush war”, many of whom held senior military posts. Amid the pushback, both the government and Muhoozi denied Sejusa’s claims. 

But the tide has since turned. Having been promoted to head the military in 2024, Muhoozi now makes little secret of his presidential ambitions. Though Ugandan law bars serving military officers from participating in partisan politics, Muhoozi has been active. Until April 2024, he chaired the Patriotic League of Uganda (PLU), formerly the Muhoozi Kainerugaba Project, a purportedly non-partisan organisation that is openly rallying support for him and his allies within the NRM and across the country. His aggressive pursuit of power has roiled the NRM, especially the old guard, but they seem to have no alternative. Instead, many party figures fear him and, in the absence of credible alternative, prefer to work with him.

Muhoozi has deferred to his father for this electoral cycle, content to consolidate his standing within the army and the NRM. Close observers Crisis Group spoke to in Uganda claim that more of the current crop of NRM nominees for parliamentary polls are Muhoozi supporters than those leaving parliament, showing his growing influence. He has also cultivated a crop of younger officers who have gradually pushed Museveni-era generals into retirement. He has particularly propped up the Special Forces Command, an elite unit charged with protecting the Museveni family and which he headed until 2022. Under Muhoozi, and his uncle, General Salim Saleh, the army has also expanded its influence in agriculture, the backbone of the economy, and such other sectors as road construction. Meanwhile, several army and NRM members have joined the PLU, blurring the lines between the organisation, the military and the ruling party.

Muhoozi’s history of rash threats and statements strike a sharp contrast to his cautious father. He infamously threatened to put Kyagulanyi to death in a January 2025 social media post. His tendencies raise concerns about what he might do if Museveni cannot continue as president. Two theories are popular: first, Muhoozi could keep working within the system, placing loyalists in key positions as he and his partners climb the political ladder. This course would allow for political competition that protects the limited democratic gains Uganda has made over the past four decades. But some fear he might lack the patience or political skill to take that tack.

The second theory is that Muhoozi will seek a quicker route to power. This might be through a military takeover in a worst-case scenario. But there are other potential pathways. His NRM backers seem to understand his weaknesses – including a lack of charisma and scant record of accomplishments to boost his appeal – giving rise to rumours that they might move to change the constitution in ways that could give his succession prospects a boost. One possible change would allow parliament to select the president, who would nevertheless retain strong executive power. Given the NRM’s dominance of parliament, and the growing place of Muhoozi supporters within the party, such a change would give Muhoozi a smoother path to power than a popular vote. Changing the constitution, which needs a two thirds majority in Parliament, would also in principle be relatively straightforward assuming Muhoozi’s grip on the NRM and its satellites continues to grow.

It is also possible, however, that the downtrodden opposition rises to defy his rule. Though weakened, figures like Kyagulanyi are popular with younger Ugandans, a crucial advantage in a country with the youngest population in the world. The opposition may sense an opportunity with Generation Z protests popping up around the globe. Should it threaten his power, however, Muhoozi’s leadership style to date suggests that he would have no qualms about marshalling state power to violently quash any such protest wave.

Should Muhoozi emerge as Uganda’s next leader, his presidency could presage turbulence in interstate relations. Uganda plays an important role in its neighbourhood, with troops in the Democratic Republic of the Congo (DRC), Somalia and South Sudan. (Ugandan troops are also in Equatorial Guinea.) As a self-styled dean of African leaders, Museveni has often felt, rightly or wrongly, that he can use his influence to calm trouble spots while also pushing Ugandan interests. Observers in Kampala told Crisis Group that they fear Muhoozi, who has shown little regard for diplomatic niceties, may not continue this balancing act. They worry about the consequences of his often-careless remarks. Concerning the DRC, for example, he has expressed support for the M23 rebels and is close to their main external backer, Rwandan President Paul Kagame. Such comments could anger Kinshasa, which invited Uganda to send thousands of soldiers into Ituri, a province in the eastern DRC, to track down jihadists of Ugandan origin who have been terrorising that area.

Changes to Uganda’s regional role could have significant human costs. Despite suspicions that it sometimes acts partially, the Ugandan army remains an indispensable protector of people in Ituri and adjacent parts of North Kivu plagued by other armed groups. Given Muhoozi’s very public positions in favour of Kinshasa’s foes, and DR Congo’s volatile politics when it comes to the east of the country, he could significantly disrupt the partnership Ugandan officers currently enjoy with their Congolese counterparts and threaten the consent they currently enjoy for their deployment. 

Similarly, in South Sudan, Museveni has helped shore up the government of his long-time ally President Salva Kiir, including through the deployment of the Ugandan military in South Sudan on various occasions. While this has arguably sheltered Kiir from having to make more conciliatory gestures toward his opponents, and complicated regional mediation efforts, it has also helped to prevent a complete security breakdown in Juba; a scenario that Kampala has long sought to avert. Without the background of a strong relationship with Juba’s leader, a Muhoozi administration would at the very least engender uncertainty in bilateral relations.

Finally, in Somalia, the Ugandan army is the mainstay of the African Union mission helping the government fight the Al-Shabaab insurgency. Its withdrawal, a possibility that Muhoozi has alluded to in the past, would remove a bulwark against deadly insurgent attacks.

The risk of spillover from these crises, along with Muhoozi’s general unpredictability (seemingly unprovoked, he once threatened to invade Kenya in a tweet) will cause nervousness in East Africa if he succeeds his father. Nor would East African capitals like to see tumult in Uganda itself. Uganda hosts millions of refugees from neighbouring countries who might have to flee elsewhere. With war engulfing Sudan and tensions rising around the Horn of Africa, the region cannot afford another state falling into disorder. 

As the 15 January elections approach, the immediate priority in Uganda should be to head off unrest. In particular, the government should allow opposition candidates to campaign peacefully in what time remains. Other moves that would show good faith to the opposition would include freeing political prisoners or expediting their court cases, including Besigye’s, and reversing direction that would prevent observers from providing a check on the electoral process.

Over the medium term, as he prepares for what might be his last term, Museveni should also take steps to address the unease about the transition that is drawing near. Though his legacy is controversial, especially since he has held on to power for so long, Museveni has allowed a level of democracy in Uganda, including political competition and a vibrant civil society. Preserving these gains is important. To this end, he should clearly state a preference that succession should adhere to constitutional procedure, including elections if he dies in office or steps down. He should make clear both publicly and in private exchanges with NRM leaders that his son must take the democratic path as he seeks power. Meanwhile, Museveni could work to heal fissures within the NRM, including by mediating talks between its different factions and working to buttress the party’s more inclusive roots, so that the old guard and acolytes of Muhoozi may avoid conflict down the line. Muhoozi himself will remain unpredictable, but his father still has means to help safeguard Uganda’s political future if he throws his weight behind democratic and constitutional processes and strengthens their proponents. While Museveni and his clan are famously indifferent to outside pressure, encouragement from outside African leaders could help.

Finally, though it has been spared the large protests that have wracked Uganda’s two East African neighbours, the government can learn something by looking over its borders. While every country is different, young people throughout the region are sharing ideas and knowhow for taking on unaccountable leaders who lack a popular mandate. If Uganda fails to choose leaders who reflect the will of the people or address their concerns, there is a risk that it, too, will face the wrath of an impatient young citizenry. More repression will not solve this problem. Rather, allowing freer elections and more debate while tackling the concerns of the public are likely to be the keys to stability.