Hardman who may be Uganda’s next president is Putin fan and asked Meloni to marry him

West fears it will soon have to deal with yet another autocrat in erratic Gen Muhoozi Kainerugaba, the ageing African leader’s son

When he is not busy fawning over Vladimir Putin, the army chief aiming to be Uganda’s next president has spent a good deal of time salivating over Giorgia Meloni.
So taken is Gen Muhoozi Kainerugaba with Italy’s populist prime minister that in 2022 he offered 100 Ankole cattle – “the most beautiful cows on Earth” – in exchange for her hand in marriage, warning of war if his proposal was rejected.
Italy is not the only country the general has threatened when, late of an evening, he has settled behind a screen and opened up his page on X. 
He has used the social media platform to rail against the United States, which gives Uganda $1 billion in aid a year, voiced support for Ethiopia’s rebels and unveiled plans to invade neighbouring Kenya.
Even more worrying for Western diplomats fretting about the trajectory of a potential Kainerugaba presidency is his fondness for strongmen, particularly Putin.
Although he has heaped praise on Egypt’s military dictator, Abdel Fatah al-Sisi, and described Donald Trump as “the only white man I have ever respected”, Gen Kainerugaba has reserved his deepest devotion for “our Russian hero”. 
Giving his full-throated support to Putin’s invasion of Ukraine, he has even pledged to send troops to Moscow to defend it from Western “imperialists”.
Such outbursts are to the despair of Yoweri Museveni, Uganda’s ageing president, who has been forced to expend considerable diplomatic capital apologising to world leaders for the general’s buckshot pronouncements.
Had anybody else in Uganda been responsible for such indiscretions, they would surely be out of a job.
But Gen Kainerugaba, who claims to be a descendent of Jesus Christ, is not just any Ugandan. 
He is also Mr Museveni’s much-indulged only son and, so it has long been whispered, his chosen successor – a belief given renewed impetus in March when the Sandhurst-educated general was appointed head of Uganda’s armed forces.
With Mr Museveni turning 80 on Sunday, a milestone that will bring the atmosphere of decay surrounding his 38-year presidency into renewed relief, many inside and outside Uganda are aghast at the prospect of a Kainerugaba presidency.
He has done little to assuage fears that he is a dictator in the making. 
Declaring that he will “definitely” be president, he wrote in one post: “Constitution? Rule of law? You must be joking!”
Inevitable parallels have been made with Idi Amin, the jovially brutal, Hitler-loving Ugandan dictator who proclaimed himself “Conqueror of the British Empire”, kept his enemies’ heads in his freezer and oversaw the slaughter of perhaps 300,000 people.
Amid the unease, the only party that seems enthused is Russia. 
Last month, a Russia defence ministry delegation handed over a $100 million (£76 million) “donation” to Gen Kainerugaba for the Ugandan armed forces.
Russia’s influence has grown in Africa in recent years, with Kremlin-backed mercenaries being deployed to protect military dictators in an array of former French colonies. 
Putin, however, has struggled to gain a similar foothold in former British colonies and will regard Uganda as a tantalising opportunity to exploit.
For Uganda’s Western donors there is dismay that an ageing autocrat once regarded as the continent’s most promising leader is contemplating an erratic, verbally incontinent popinjay as his successor.
Yet few observers are surprised that Mr Museveni finds himself in the position in which attempting to foist his wholly unsuitable son on the country is even an option.
When he seized power in a rebellion in 1986, he was seen by his people as a saviour who rescued a country scarred by mass murder during the dictatorships of both Amin and Milton Obote, an image he continues to cultivate.
The West regarded him as a new type of African leader who restored stability, presided over modest economic growth, pursued sensible development goals and beat back the country’s terrible Aids crisis. 
In return, Western leaders turned a blind eye to atrocities committed by his armed forces in rebellion-afflicted northern Uganda.
Yet Mr Museveni was no democrat, winning six contentious election victories, twice changing the constitution to stay in power and presiding over an increasingly repressive regime.
His mental faculties waning as he ages, he now finds himself in the classic “dictator trap” in which, in order to protect corrupt regime allies and his increasingly unpopular family, he is unable to retire even if he wants to, according to analysts.
“Museveni runs a system that is self-centred and focused entirely on regime survival,” says Michael Mutyaba, a Ugandan political scientist.
“In order to survive, he has to resort to ever greater repression because he knows if he reforms the system he is out within a minute.
“So he can’t reform, he can only deploy force, which worsens the situation.”
With the income of the average Ugandan stagnating since 2009 and the economic gap with neighbouring Kenya widening, Mr Museveni has desperately sought to regain control through a mixture of populism, patronage and brutality.
He has attempted to write and perform rap songs to demonstrate his youthfulness while pandering to public opinion by introducing the death sentence for those convicted of homosexuality for the second time.
At the same time he has moved to shore up his position among the military elite by granting greater control of the economy to the armed forces, whose business interests are run by his brother, Salim Saleh, believed to be one of Uganda’s richest men. 
Former officers have also been added to Mr Museveni’s 82-strong cabinet.
Meanwhile, his suppression of the opposition has grown ever more ruthless. 
Activists say dissidents are frequently abducted and held in a string of “torture centres” overseen by Gen Kainerugaba, who denies the claims.
For the moment, Mr Museveni’s strategy has paid off, despite rising discontent.
But greater challenges lie ahead. As Hosni Mubarak, the Egyptian dictator toppled in the Arab Spring, discovered, elderly autocrats who cling to office in the vague hope of handing over power to unpopular sons are pursuing a risky strategy.
Having groomed him office, Mr Museveni may have hoped that his son would contest the 2026 elections in his place. 
Yet Gen Kainerugaba remains so clearly unsuited for office that observers expect his father to seek a seventh term, meaning that any succession plan would not be realised until either after Mr Museveni’s death or towards the end of the decade at the earliest.
As diplomats and analysts point out, the longer Mr Museveni remains in power, the greater the vulnerability when he does go for his family, his allies and even his Nkole ethnic group, tarred by the assumption that they have economically benefited from having a kinsman in office.
“It is difficult to see Museveni’s presidency ending well,” says a Western researcher in Kampala. 
“If he dies or if the army decides he is a liability and topples him, you end up in very, very dangerous territory.
“On one hand, you have the current elite trying to defend their privileges, on the other you have large sections of the country demanding justice or vengeance against anyone associated with the regime. It’s a volcano waiting to erupt.”