By Isaac Christopher Lubogo
"When the bayonet becomes a gavel, democracy dies in silence."
Uganda now stands on the brink of a constitutional undoing, not by overt force but by legal camouflage—a well-dressed dagger sheathed in legislative language.
The Uganda People’s Defence Forces (Amendment) Bill, 2025, if signed into law, shall mark not merely a shift in military justice, but a re-invasion of the civilian sphere by garrisoned logic masquerading as order.
This is not the first time Africa has witnessed this drama Bayonets in the Courtroom are a familiar script in postcolonial autocracies, where the sound of justice is muffled by the roar of command. Uganda, once rising from the ashes of tyranny with a proud constitutional rebirth in 1995, now risks backsliding into a garrison state where freedom is subordinate to fear.
We must ask ourselves: what kind of country puts Guns on the Bench, and calls it reform? What democracy allows its civil judiciary to be undermined by military tribunals, weaponised not for discipline, but for political warfare?
The Constitution is not a bayonet. It is a shield. And when the state reinterprets it to justify trying civilians in military courts, it is no longer a legal instrument it becomes a hostage.
This Bill is not just unconstitutional; it is Constitution in Chains a legislative manoeuvre that mutates the judicial process into a tool of coercion.
This is more than a debate on jurisdiction. It is a moral and historical reckoning. If we allow this to pass, we are not merely rewriting military codes; we are hosting the funeral of Due Process, burying it beneath layers of national security rhetoric and legal cynicism.
Let us call it by its name: Justice Hijacked. This Bill is not security reform it is a quiet coup against the very fabric of democratic accountability.
It speaks in the voice of law but acts with the intent of silencing the people. The Silencing Sword has returned—not through generals, but through Parliament.
We must resist this moment of Judgment Day for the Constitution. For when Civilians Stand Trial Before the Gun, the law no longer protects; it punishes.
We must rise not in arms, but in intellect, law, and voice to recall Uganda from the edge of militarised injustice, and reaffirm that civilian supremacy is not negotiable. We must declare: a court martial is no place for the citizen.
I. Constitutional Legal Challenges
The Uganda People’s Defence Forces (Amendment) Bill, 2025, raises significant constitutional issues. Article 28(1) of the 1995 Constitution guarantees the right to a fair, public hearing by an independent and impartial court established by law.
Military courts are not recognised as judicial organs under Chapter 8. They are disciplinary mechanisms limited to armed forces personnel under Article 210.
The Constitutional Court in Uganda Law Society v Attorney General (Constitutional Petition No. 18 of 2005) held unequivocally that military courts are not competent to try civilians.
This judgment reaffirmed the separation of powers and the inviolability of fair trial rights.
Further, Article 210(c) empowers Parliament only to regulate the internal disciplinary affairs of the UPDF. Subjecting civilians to military courts falls outside this scope and constitutes legislative overreach.
This move also undermines the doctrine of separation of powers. Military courts operate under the Executive through the Ministry of Defence, and allowing them to try civilians constitutes executive usurpation of judicial functions, thus violating Articles 126–128 of the Constitution.
II. International Legal Challenges
Uganda is a State Party to the International Covenant on Civil and Political Rights (ICCPR) and the African Charter on Human and Peoples’ Rights. Article 14 of the ICCPR and Article 7 of the African Charter guarantee the right to be tried by a competent, independent, and impartial tribunal.
The United Nations Human Rights Committee, in General Comment No. 32, emphasised that military or special courts should not try civilians.
The only permissible exception is in strictly defined, narrowly tailored, and justified instances that meet all fair trial guarantees.
The UPDF Amendment Bill’s invocation of “exceptional circumstances” is vague and unsubstantiated. It risks weaponising national security language to silence activists, journalists, and opposition leaders mirroring abuses in jurisdictions such as Egypt, Zimbabwe, and Pakistan.
III. Political and Practical Concerns
Prominent opposition voices, including MP Muhammad Nsereko, have warned that the proposed law risks legitimising repression under the façade of order.
Arguments that court martial authority restores peace in volatile regions such as Karamoja cannot justify constitutional violations.
The Bill’s ambiguous terminology particularly “exceptional circumstances” violates the principle of legality in criminal law.
This principle, enshrined in Article 28(12) of the Constitution and international instruments, requires that offenses and penalties be clear, predictable, and publicly accessible.
IV. Structural and Jurisprudential Breaches
The Bill includes provisions that empower military courts to try civilians for offences like treason, terrorism, and handling military equipment. It creates a dual criminal justice system where civilians may be hauled before institutions that do not guarantee judicial independence or civilian oversight.
Provisions such as Section 215(c), which leave it to the Minister to determine “exceptional circumstances,” violate Article 28(12) and Article 43(2)(c) of the Constitution.
These articles demand that limitations on rights must be lawful, justifiable, and necessary in a democratic society.
The case of Foundation for Human Rights Initiatives v Attorney General (2006) struck down similarly vague provisions for conferring excessive discretion on state actors, affirming that law must not be a cloak for tyranny.
This Bill could lead to arbitrary detention of civilians, denial of bail, and trials without adequate procedural protections. It thus violates Articles 21, 29(1)(a–d), and established international principles such as the UN Basic Principles on the Independence of the Judiciary.
V. Consequences of Enactment
The likely aftermath of this Bill is a catastrophic erosion of civil liberties. Journalists and opposition actors could face military prosecution in opaque proceedings devoid of safeguards. Civic space would shrink rapidly.
The independence and authority of civilian courts would be eroded, leading to public distrust in the judiciary. Moreover, the Bill sets a dangerous precedent for expanding military jurisdiction to other areas such as cybercrime, protest, and political speech.
Uganda risks international condemnation and exposure. The African Commission on Human and Peoples’ Rights and UN Treaty Bodies may investigate and censure Uganda.
Development partners, including the European Union and the United States, may reconsider aid and cooperation over fair trial concerns.
VI. Strategic Remedies
Constitutional Challenge: A petition under Article 137(1) must be filed immediately upon assent to contest the Bill’s validity.
Human Rights Redress: Engage the Uganda Human Rights Commission and file communications under Article 55 of the African Charter.
Global Advocacy: Mobilize diplomatic and legal pressure through UN Special Rapporteurs and periodic reviews.
Legislative Reform: Insist on a complete redrafting of the Bill to exclude civilians entirely from the jurisdiction of military courts.
Oversight Mechanisms: If unavoidable, any limited application to civilians must be temporary, subject to judicial approval, and include human rights commission monitoring.
Final Word
This Bill is not a mistake it is a manoeuvre. It is not reform it is regression. Uganda stands at a perilous crossroads where civilian supremacy must be protected from the encroaching boots of militarised justice. This is not just a legal argument. It is a moral imperative.
The court martial is an instrument of discipline not domination. Its reach must remain firmly within military boundaries. The moment it crosses into civilian life, it stops being a tribunal and becomes a weapon.
Let it be known: a court martial is no place for the citizen.