Good afternoon. This is The Debrief, I am Samson Kasumba.
The Democratic Party (DP), once Uganda’s oldest and most iconic political organization, is now grappling with one of the most consequential internal crises in its history.
At the center of the storm is party president Norbert Mao, who has led the DP for over 15 years and now stands accused of entrenching a system that stifles internal democracy, weaponizes nomination fees to exclude competition, and aligns the party with the very political machinery it once fiercely opposed.
This is not merely a power struggle within an aging opposition party—it is a litmus test for whether Uganda’s multiparty democracy can survive institutional stagnation and elite deals made behind closed doors.
Let’s examine, point by point, how the Democratic Party arrived at this volatile juncture.
In March 2024, DP Secretary General Gerald Siranda released a party roadmap ahead of the 2026 elections. Tucked within the roadmap was a set of nomination fees that immediately sparked outrage within party ranks.
DP presidential aspirants were required to pay Shs10 million to contest for the position of Party President General.
In a country where nearly 40% of youth are unemployed and party mobilization relies heavily on grassroots engagement, the fees were quickly seen as exclusionary and elitist.
Several long-standing party members, including MPs Richard Sebamala (Bukoto Central) and Lulume Bayiga (Buikwe South), accused Mao’s leadership of turning the party into a “commercial enterprise” where financial muscle—rather than ideology or loyalty—determines leadership.
Mao defended the fees, arguing that political mobilization requires resources and that serious contenders should be able to raise support. But critics dismissed that rationale, pointing to the party’s lack of financial transparency and previous allegations of backdoor funding from the state.
Norbert Mao became DP president in 2010, hailed at the time as a charismatic orator, a reformer, and a bridge between the older Catholic-rooted DP elite and the emerging urban progressive bloc.
But 15 years later, that promise has, many argue, curdled into controversy. Mao is now widely perceived as an autocrat in green robes—presiding over a party that has lost parliamentary seats, ceded its traditional Buganda stronghold, and aligned itself with President Museveni’s ruling National Resistance Movement (NRM).
The tipping point came in July 2022, when Mao signed a surprise cooperation agreement with President Museveni at State House. The deal was not subjected to the party’s National Executive Committee or National Council for ratification.
Shortly afterward, Mao was appointed Minister for Justice and Constitutional Affairs. The backlash was swift and unforgiving.
Several DP MPs—including those who had loyally contributed monthly subscriptions to the party—announced they would cease their remittances. They accused Mao of making a “personal deal” with the regime under the guise of national dialogue.
Mao claimed he was acting in the national interest, promising to push for political reforms, including campaign finance regulation and a peaceful transition of power. But to many, his appointment was less a compromise than a co-option.
In April 2024, the Constitutional Court ruled that Mao’s reappointment as DP president violated the party’s constitution. The court found that the processes leading to his re-election lacked proper endorsement by the National Council and failed to meet quorum requirements.
In most functioning democracies, such a ruling would trigger a leadership transition. But not in today’s DP.
Mao dismissed the court’s decision as “academic,” claiming it was instigated by disgruntled individuals seeking political relevance.
He remained firmly in office and proceeded with internal elections despite growing calls for a caretaker committee to oversee leadership renewal.
Many young DP members believe the party is actively stifling new leadership and insulating Mao from internal challenge.
Ironically, this same Mao—now championing inclusive democracy as a government minister—presides over a party where Shs10 million is required just to run for internal office.
With its historical base in Buganda nearly eroded, its representation in Parliament dwindling, and its youth disillusioned, the DP stands at an existential crossroads.
For many observers, the nomination fee controversy is not just about money—it’s about principle. It’s about whether the Democratic Party remains a vessel for democratic ideals or has become a closed clique run by a single man.
Mao’s defenders argue that he is pragmatic and visionary. That he has kept the party alive through difficult times. That he has national exposure and the intellectual heft to engage the state.
But his critics say he has overstayed his welcome. That he has centralized power, expelled dissenting voices, and used technicalities to entrench himself. That he no longer listens to the party's grassroots—and now serves two masters: the DP and the ruling NRM.
As the DP prepares for internal elections and eyes the 2026 general election, it must confront a series of painful and unavoidable questions:
- If Shs10 million is the cost of democracy within the DP, who exactly is being invited to lead—and who is being locked out?
- Why did Norbert Mao bypass internal organs to sign a cooperation deal with the NRM? Was it party strategy or a personal survival plan?
- If court rulings on leadership are dismissed as “academic,” does the party still believe in rule of law?
- Can a party that no longer wins in its historical strongholds genuinely claim to represent a national vision?
- Why do youth leaders under Mao feel heard only when they speak to him as a Minister—not as party president?
- If Mao has led the DP since 2010, what legacy does he point to—beyond survival?
- What does leadership renewal look like in a party where the same figure remains unchallenged for over a decade?
- Can a party built on democratic ideals remain relevant without internal democracy?
What’s happening in the DP isn’t just an internal party affair. It’s a snapshot of Uganda’s broader democratic health.
When opposition parties fail to model the change they promise, voters are left with no real options—only recycled slogans and shrinking hope.
The Democratic Party has a choice: confront its internal contradictions now—or continue its descent into irrelevance.
The clock is ticking.