Geir Jordet, professor at the Norwegian School of Sport Sciences and author of ‘Pressure,’ a book on penalty psychology, discusses the mental aspect of penalty shootouts that have been a crucial feature of the #FIFAWorldCup https://t.co/269Ppdrb6W
25 January 1971.
Kampala.
As dusk pressed its orange hue over the city, word came that General Idi Amin Dada would address the nation.
Journalists from Kenya, Britain, and beyond filed into a dimly lit military hall.
The long day of waiting had narrowed to this single moment.
The First Address: Amin Takes the Stage - 1971
Amin entered with theatrical ease, tall, barrel-chested, his uniform adorned with medals, a red beret tucked under his arm.
He walked with deliberate calm to the desk at the front, placed his notes down, and looked up with a toothy smile.
He did not sit.
He stood.
"My fellow countrymen," he began in a deep, accented baritone, "we have taken over power to save Uganda from chaos and dictatorship."
There was no stutter, no hesitation.
It was a performance of a man who had been waiting for this moment, who had prepared for it in the shadows while Obote was away in Singapore.
The journalists leaned forward as Amin outlined his justification, accusing Obote of tribalism, corruption, and endangering national unity through his Special Protection Unit.
"We in the army could not allow one man to use Uganda's military as his own tool," he said.
He promised peace, respect for international agreements, and an eventual return to civilian government.
"I am a soldier, not a politician," he insisted, with a smile that softened the hardness in his tone.
"We will not remain in power longer than is necessary."
The words were carefully chosen, designed to reassure a nervous international community and a confused populace.
Questions flew about Obote's whereabouts, the status of ministers, the loyalty of the police.
Amin dodged some, answered others with charm, and occasionally with chilling clarity.
"The army is in full control," he repeated.
"There is no more fighting. Kampala is safe. Uganda is safe."
A few foreign journalists, still shaken from the day's sightings, burned-out homes, frightened civil servants, and whispered rumors of arrests, scribbled quickly.
The General's calm delivery seemed almost surreal after the shockwaves of the morning, but in that moment he projected strength, stability, and victory.
When the conference ended, Amin raised his hand in salute and left the room, upright, controlled, decisive.
Outside, the city buzzed again with cautious movement.
Radios replayed his voice late into the night.
For many Ugandans, it was the first time they heard the new head of state speak with authority.
The waiting was over.
The era of General Idi Amin had officially begun.
No one in that room could have known what the next eight years would bring, the terror, the expulsions, the murders, the international isolation.
But as Amin walked out into the evening, smiling and confident, the country had crossed a threshold from which it would never return.
What does it mean when a general promises calm and a return to civilian rule, even as tanks still roamed the streets and the first of many lies was already in the air?
Amin's first press conference was a masterclass in reassurance.
The words were smooth.
The smile was wide.
The future was darker than anyone in that room could imagine.
The era had begun.
#UgHistory #IdiAmin @GovUganda
This political philosophy book (The Prince) is widely cited as the handbook of autocrats. It’s perhaps as widely misunderstood as it is cited - out of context. Nevertheless, if we considered his advice to leaders generally, it doesn’t stand. His idea that FEAR is easier to control than LOVE, and subsequent advice that therefore the leader should aim to be feared, is ill thought.
The problem with ruling by Fear is that the leader lives in fear too. When you terrorise people, you also live in fear of what they’re likely to do to you should they get a chance. You end up being paranoid, always fearing that they’re planning revenge. This then heightens preemptive violence, increasing your victims and anger. With this, you can’t move or socialise freely. You also end up in an open prison constructed by your terror. You can never live a normal life when you know that many people are angry with your actions, except if your sense of judgement is deranged and you can no longer sense danger.
First They Came: A Lament Under the Shadow of the Crocodile
In the red dust of our ancestral soil,
where the ancient oak once whispered freedom
and the drums carried the heartbeat of the people,
a great darkness fell.
First they came for the Northerners,
and I did not speak out
because I was an Easterner.
Then they came for the Opposition,
and I did not speak because I was a ruling party stalwart, clutching my party card like a charm,
my belly full while my conscience starved.
Then they went for the students, extinguishing their dreams with batons and bullets.
And I did not speak
because I was no longer young,
my books were closed.
Then they went after the gay people,
and I did not speak – because their love was not mine.
Then they came for the civil society activists,
and I did not speak out – because I was not an activist;
I had a family to feed.
Then they came for the journalists,
and I did not speak out –
because I was not a journalist.
Then they came for me.
In the dead of night, boots on the veranda,
a knock like thunder from an angry sky.
My children hid under the bed,
trembling like leaves in the kaskazi wind.
And there was no one left to speak for me.
The neighbours drew their curtains.
The market women lowered their voices.
My friend turned off his phone.
The whole land cowered in silence – a nation of bowed heads, too terrified even to whisper a prayer.
The drums fell quiet.
Only the wind carried our shame across the savannah.
The Crocodile had won.
(Thanks for the inspiration, Martin Niemöller.
May we find the courage before the darkness takes us all.)
Memorable quotes from the sharp-penned Ugandan journalist, commentator, and photographer Timothy Kalyegira .@TimKalyegira who went missing for four days before he was charged on Monday, June 29:
-"In this day and age, ruling people for 40 years is a mark of shame, not genius."
-Ultimately we all die poor. Nobody takes their six-bedroom house to the grave."
-On Uganda's economy: "Primitive accumulation of primitive wealth, by primitive people, for primitive reasons."
-"The only profitable economic activity left is praising the First Family, praising government projects, praising Big Men, [or] running for MP."
-"The people with money don't have brains and the people with brains don't have money."
Barack: You told me all those years ago that you couldn’t promise me the world, but you could promise me an interesting life. Of course, you outdid yourself and managed to give me both.
Eight years in the crucible, and not once did you melt from the heat. Not once did you let it harden you. Instead, you used it to reveal your truest essence: your stubborn optimism and unflinching courage, your dazzling brilliance and unpretentious decency, your ferocious work ethic and absolutely unshakable moral fiber.
More than 40 years ago, I arrived in Chicago in search of an idea. I was a young man looking for purpose, who believed deeply in America, was inspired by the Civil Rights Movement, and wanted to be a part of something larger. The America I believed in was one where everyone has opportunity, everyone is seen, everyone belongs—because that was an America that had a place for me, too.
Any reflective person with considerable power will tell you that one of the most dangerous positions you can put yourself in as a leader is to surround yourself with opportunists, small-brained praise singers and people who fear you. They will literally clap for you as you jump off a cliff. They will fight off any well intentioned critic and reserve you to their cultish company, where you will be effectively surrounded by choruses of opportunistic adoration and echoes of nice sounding idiocy. It’s worse when you also can’t discern much on your own. One of the reasons Mr Museveni succeeded in his earlier struggles, is the kind of people he surrounded himself with. Check their intellectual profiles and compare.