Power belongs to government. That is not legislation for sovereignty—it is a coup d'état.
In the weeks before a presidential inauguration, Uganda's parliament is racing to pass a law that would imprison citizens for up to twenty years for advancing what the state deems 'foreign interests' — a phrase capacious enough to encompass journalists, aid workers, and opposition voices alike. President Museveni frames the measure as a shield against external meddling, but critics across the political and legal spectrum see it as the latest instrument in a long effort to encircle and extinguish independent civic life. The bill arrives at a moment when the question of who truly holds sovereignty — the government or the governed — has rarely felt more urgent.
- Uganda's parliament is fast-tracking a bill that could send citizens to prison for twenty years simply for receiving foreign funding or partnering with overseas organizations — and the vote is expected before May 12th.
- The language is deliberately elastic: NGOs, media outlets, health programs, and development organizations all fall within its reach, and even amendments exempting some sectors leave the core threat intact.
- Opposition leaders, legal scholars, and international bodies including the World Bank are sounding alarms, warning the bill will collapse civil society funding, chill dissent, and isolate Uganda economically and diplomatically.
- The government is dismissing these warnings as noise, with Museveni insisting the law protects sovereignty — even as critics note that opposition figures are already facing charges and civic organizations were suspended ahead of the last election.
- With the legislative calendar controlled by the ruling party and the vote timed to coincide with a presidential swearing-in, the outcome appears largely predetermined — leaving rights groups calling for outright rejection of the bill as their final recourse.
Uganda's parliament is moving with unusual urgency to pass the Protection of Sovereignty Bill 2026, which would make it a criminal offense — punishable by up to twenty years in prison — to promote what the government defines as 'foreign interests.' Lawmakers are expected to complete the vote before President Museveni's swearing-in on May 12th. The government argues the law is necessary to guard against external interference in national affairs. Critics say it is designed to silence opposition, cut off civil society funding, and criminalize the work of journalists and activists.
The bill's provisions are sweeping. Foreign funding would be capped at roughly £79,000 per year, government inspectors would gain authority to search premises and seize documents, and any organization deemed to be furthering foreign interests against Uganda's national interest could face prosecution. An earlier draft went so far as to classify Ugandan citizens living abroad as foreigners — a provision removed after public outcry — but the core restrictions remain. The World Bank warned parliament in late April that the bill could criminalize its routine development work, and Uganda receives hundreds of millions of dollars annually in foreign financing for health, education, and civil society.
Opposition leader Joel Ssenyonyi called the bill a direct copy of laws used by Russia and China to dismantle independent institutions, warning it would drive away investment and deepen poverty. Former government minister Asuman Kiyingi described it as 'encirclement' — a move to seize the financial and intellectual lifeblood of civic engagement after years of using public order laws to suppress physical assembly. Anthony Asiimwe of the Uganda Law Society was more blunt: 'The bill replaces power belonging to the people with power belonging to government. That is not legislation for sovereignty — it is legislation against the sovereign people of Uganda.'
The timing sharpens the concern. Opposition figures are already facing charges related to foreign support, and human rights and election organizations were suspended before January's general election. With the government controlling the legislative calendar and the vote imminent, Human Rights Watch has called for the bill's outright rejection — but with power consolidated and the clock running, the space for that outcome is narrowing fast.
Uganda's parliament is moving at unusual speed to pass a bill that would make it a crime—punishable by up to twenty years in prison—to promote what the government calls "foreign interests." The Protection of Sovereignty Bill 2026 is being fast-tracked through debate, with lawmakers expected to finish voting before the presidential swearing-in on May 12th. The government says the law will shield Uganda from external meddling in its affairs. Critics say it is a blueprint for silencing opposition, starving civil society of resources, and criminalizing the work of journalists, activists, and anyone who takes money from abroad.
Internal Affairs State Minister Gen David Muhoozi told parliament on April 23rd that the bill would protect national security, economic stability, and social cohesion from foreign influence. But the language is so broad that it catches nearly everything: advocacy groups, media outlets, private companies, even international development organizations working on health and education. An earlier draft classified Ugandan citizens living overseas as foreigners—a provision so extreme that the attorney general removed it after public outcry, though many of the core restrictions remain.
Opposition leader Joel Ssenyonyi called the bill a direct copy of laws used by Russia and China to dismantle independent institutions. "Passing this bill will not protect Uganda's sovereignty," he said. "It will kill multiparty funding, plunge thousands more Ugandans into absolute poverty, chase away foreign investment, and turn our country into an international pariah." The World Bank, in a letter to parliament dated April 23rd, warned that the bill could criminalize its routine development work. Uganda receives hundreds of millions of dollars annually in foreign financing for health, education, and civil society—money that is woven into the fabric of the country's development model.
The bill's key provisions include a cap on foreign funding at 400 million Ugandan shillings (roughly £79,000) per year, and authorization for government inspectors to search premises and seize documents. Even after the attorney general tabled amendments exempting financial institutions, medical facilities, education organizations, and faith-based groups, critics say the core threat remains: any organization deemed to be furthering "the interests of a foreigner against Uganda's national interest" can still be prosecuted. The definition is so elastic that it could apply to almost anything.
President Yoweri Museveni has long warned against what he describes as foreign interference in Uganda's internal affairs. After youth protests in 2024, he said: "Uganda is not a neo-colony where foreign entities can dictate its path." On April 30th, responding to the firestorm, he dismissed concerns about the bill's economic impact as "a lot of noise," but defended its core purpose: the right to make decisions without external pressure. Yet Asuman Kiyingi, a former government minister, saw something darker. "This is not regulation; it is encirclement," he said. "Having long utilised the Public Order Management Act to throttle physical assembly, the state now seeks to seize the financial and intellectual lifeblood of civic engagement."
The timing is significant. Opposition figures are already facing charges related to foreign support. Human rights, media, and election organizations were suspended before January's general election. Now, as the government consolidates power, it is moving to cut off the funding streams that sustain independent scrutiny. Julius Mukunda of the Civil Society Budget Advocacy Group warned that restrictions of this scale could weaken the currency and slow economic activity, particularly in sectors where foreign capital fills gaps that domestic resources cannot. The ripple effects would be felt across the economy.
Anthony Asiimwe, vice-president of Uganda Law Society, rejected the government's reassurances as cosmetic. "The bill replaces 'power belongs to the people' with 'power belongs to government'," he said. "It does not adapt to a changing world; it adapts the constitution to the fears of those in power. That is not legislation for sovereignty—it is legislation against the sovereign people of Uganda. The very definition of a coup d'état." Human Rights Watch called on parliament to reject the bill entirely. But with the vote expected before mid-May, and the government controlling the legislative calendar, the outcome appears largely predetermined.
Citas Notables
This law is a copy and paste of Russian and Chinese laws adopted to liquidate opposition and civil society organisations.— Joel Ssenyonyi, Uganda's opposition leader
This is not regulation; it is encirclement. The state now seeks to seize the financial and intellectual lifeblood of civic engagement.— Asuman Kiyingi, former government minister
La Conversación del Hearth Otra perspectiva de la historia
Why is Uganda moving so fast on this bill? What's the rush?
The deadline is the presidential swearing-in on May 12th. By fast-tracking debate to finish before then, the government avoids the normal scrutiny and amendments that come with a slower process. It's a way of saying: this is happening, and you don't have time to organize against it.
The government says it's about protecting sovereignty. Is that a real concern, or just cover?
Sovereignty is a real concern in many countries. But the way this bill is written—the vague language, the broad definitions—it catches everything. A health NGO getting money from a foreign donor to fight malaria. A journalist reporting on government corruption. An opposition party taking international support. All of it becomes potentially criminal.
What happens to the people who work in civil society right now?
Many will have to choose: stop taking foreign funding and shrink their operations, or risk prosecution. Some will leave the country. Others will simply close. The World Bank warned that its own development work could be criminalized. Imagine that—an organization trying to improve health and education outcomes suddenly unable to operate.
The attorney general made some amendments. Does that fix the problem?
It softens the edges. Financial institutions, hospitals, schools, churches—they got exemptions. But the core threat remains. Any organization can still be prosecuted if the government decides it's furthering foreign interests against Uganda's national interest. That definition is so elastic it could apply to almost anything.
What's the economic consequence?
Foreign investment will likely dry up. The currency could weaken. Development programs that rely on overseas funding—HIV treatment, tuberculosis control, maternal health—could collapse. Uganda's entire development model depends on this money. Cut it off, and you don't just hurt civil society. You hurt the economy.
Is there any chance parliament votes this down?
Unlikely. The government controls the legislative calendar and the votes. The opposition is outnumbered. This bill is probably going to pass. The real question is what happens after—whether the courts challenge it, whether international pressure mounts, whether Ugandans find ways to work around it.