66 Time November 30/December 7, 2020
international revolutionary intellec-
tual. His bookshelves are lined with the
biographies and manifestos of the world’s
liberation leaders, from Malcolm X to Che
Guevara, Nelson Mandela and Martin
Luther King Jr. When he speaks, it’s clear
he has digested them all, unconsciously
regurgitating quotes from Bishop Des-
mond Tutu, Barack Obama or Malcolm X,
sometimes in the same sentence.
The revolutionary rhetoric and pag-eantry appeal to a nation desperate for
change, but they mask his campaign’s
hollow core. Wine is pushing for transfor-
mation, yet he has no platform, and bris-
tles when asked about his policy plans.
What he offers instead, he says, is a vi-
sion of what Uganda should be: “A coun-
try where there is no impunity. Where we
are all equal before the law. Where every-
body has opportunity regardless of their
tribe or sect or background. Where insti-
tutions are supreme and respected.”
The poinT is noT that Wine wants to
be President—he says he doesn’t—but
that the current President needs to go,
and so far, no one else has been able to
unseat him. “I look at myself as the most
unqualified person for the role of Presi-
dent,” Wine tells TIME over a lunch of
tripe stew at a Kampala restaurant popu-
lar with government officials. “But God
does not take the qualified; he qualifies
the chosen one. What God has graced me
with is the ability to rally Ugandans to
own their own country. If we can do that,
all I will need to do is be a good manager.”
There are a few major obstacles toovercome first. Wine still faces charges
of treason dating to the violent rally in
August 2018, when his supporters alleg-
edly threw stones at a government con-
voy, and he could be called to court at
any time. (He denies the charge and says
it is politically motivated.) Last year, the
government banned civilian use of the red
beret worn by members of Wine’s Peo-
ple Power movement. In July, Uganda’s
Electoral Commission, while officially
independent, refused to register Wine’s
movement as a political party—an essen-
tial designation for contesting elections.
Wine circumvented the ruling byaligning with a small established party
that had already registered. Then the
party voted to change its name, and
elected him as leader. “As soon as the
President learned I had managed to
register a political party despite his
best efforts, he fired the top officials of
the Electoral Commission,” Wine cack-
les over the telephone in early October.
“I ducked his punch, and punched back
harder.” Museveni said on Twitter that
the officials were fired because of “cor-
ruption.” (Despite several requests, Mu-
seveni’s office declined to speak with
TIME on the issue of Wine’s campaign
or the upcoming elections.)
And as elections approach, there are
signs that Museveni may be preparing
for further crackdowns. Citing the risk
of COVID-19, the Electoral Commission
has prohibited public rallies in favor of TV
and radio campaigning. Yet few TV and
radio stations will host Wine, for fear ofcontravening a long-standing ban. When
he does manage to make an appearance,
the broadcasting station is usually raided
within moments.
Wine’s biggest fear, however, is an as-
sassination attempt. In order to make sure
his meal of tripe stew would not be poi-
soned, Wine had sent a couple of staffers
to the restaurant to order, while he idled
in his car around the corner. As soon as
the food arrived, the staffers called him,
and only then did he and his entourage
come in to take their places around the
table. “Museveni will use every trick in
the book to make sure I am not a threat
during the elections,” says Wine. So why
does he risk eating in a pro-government
venue? Wine grins mischievously and
jerks his chin at a nearby table, where a
couple of government officials are hast-
ily abandoning a half-completed meal in
an effort to avoid being seen in the same
restaurant as Museveni’s rival. Everyone^
At his rallies, Wine adopts the
language and stagecraft of Black
liberation leadersWorld