Ugandans Put 'Big Man' Politics to Vote

"The world has been hoodwinked. This has turned into a disaster, and no one is paying attention," said Peter Owiny Goduzu, the independent mayor of Lira, a northern town where 200,000 people are surviving on donated food in overcrowded refugee camps. "Nelson Mandela left office. Imagine what Americans would think if President Bush changed the constitution and wanted to stay on? Can't we try some fresh ideas, ever?"

The latest public opinion polls put Museveni ahead of the five other candidates with 47 percent support. Besigye, his closest rival, has 36 percent, according to the country's independent Monitor newspaper.

There will be a runoff if no candidate wins a simple majority.

In interviews, Ugandans expressed views that point to a generational and class divide. Younger and more middle-class urban Ugandans tend to find the idea of an African ruler for life outdated and patronizing.

Even those who have long praised Museveni for his example-setting leadership in the fight against HIV wonder if change might be good for a country's health.

"Why must he condescend to Africans in this way?" asked Geraldine Stella Nalugwa, project manager of a sexual health program. "Yes, he was wonderful on AIDS and the economy. But we're fearing he may be our leader until God himself removes him from State House."

Members of Uganda's older farming generation appear to be influenced more by deep memories of the brutal years of Amin and his henchmen, and express fear about voting for anyone else. Nearly every Ugandan has a family member who was jailed, tortured or killed during the Amin dictatorship. Good leaders, including village chiefs, tend to rule for life in Africa, they say, so why not Museveni, whom they call "father."

"Whether Besigye is a good man or a bad man, I don't even need to know," said Emmanuel Rutakyengy, 45, chairman of the country's rural-based Council for Disabilities, which includes those wounded during previous governments. "My father was whisked away when I was in third grade by Amin. I am sticking to the man I know and love. Whoever doesn't is a risk-taker who is just mad."

Museveni's campaign has effectively capitalized on that culture of fear. The state-run newspaper has been carrying a special feature detailing the horrific crimes of Amin, and Museveni's campaign posters read: "A nation is not a trial-and-error map. You cannot play with the achievements of the last 20 years."

Besigye's campaign, with the Forum for Democratic Change party, has been vocal and filled of vague promises, but is disorganized. It was further disrupted when he was locked inside Kampala's maximum-security prison. He was not released until Jan. 2 and since then has been in and out of court 27 times on a long list of charges that include treason, rape and terrorism, all of which he says are "totally untrue and politically motivated."

Museveni gathered 20,000 cheering and dancing supporters for a day-long final rally Tuesday in the capital. Young motorcycle drivers waved likenesses of Museveni and were given free fuel to speed through the streets singing songs of praise for Museveni's Movement Party.

Besigye canceled his final rally, fearing violence. On Monday, riot police tear-gassed a rally of Besigye supporters. At least three people were shot dead last week by a military lieutenant who opened fire into a crowd of Besigye supporters in the capital who were throwing rocks at his car.

Meanwhile, Ugandans who have never seen a peaceful change of power are so jittery over vote tampering that political parties and citizen groups are recruiting their own "youth brigades," who are armed with sticks and rocks to guard against rigging at the polls.

"There's a history of bullets. Not the ballot," said Esther Namugawe, 23. "No one is sure if either of these men will deal with defeat."