The last independent ruler (or kabaka) of the kingdom of Buganda—now Uganda—King Mwanga II, has been part of a propaganda war since his reign started in 1884. Known for taking both male and female lovers, detractors have called him a deranged murderous deviant. Supporters have framed him as an early fighter against colonialism. And modern LGBTQ+ activists have used him as evidence that queerness is a part of Africa’s history.
Mwanga was only 18 when he took the throne, replacing his father, Muteesa I. He was said to have 16 wives and, in addition, had many male lovers in his court. He allowed homosexual relationships between other members of his court as well. His lovers, male and female, would all be addressed as bakopi, the word for “wives,” and they called him their nnanynimu or omufumbo, meaning “husband,” according to Rahul Rao writing in the Journal of Eastern African Studies.
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Muteesa felt the way to protect Buganda from colonialism was to ally with the British and welcome missionaries in exchange for firepower. Though Muteesa converted to Islam earlier in his rule to further ally himself with Swahili and Arab traders, he allowed Protestant and Catholic missionaries into Buganda. He figured the competing religious groups would be too busy squabbling among themselves to become a threat to his rule.
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Mwanga was skeptical of his father’s plan, however. As Destiny Rogers pointed out in QNews, he realized that allowing missionaries into an African kingdom typically led to more and more influence from European powers, ultimately resulting in a loss of control. Early into his reign, Mwanga started ordering the executions of missionaries, and between 1885 and 1887, he executed 45 Christians. Many of these were pages in his royal court who had converted to Christianity. Many of these men were burned alive.
The legend, originally reported by French missionary Père Simon Lourdel, is that Mwanga singled out the young men for execution for refusing to have sex with him. Other European authors backed Lourdel’s take on events, saying the proof was the fact that Mwanga didn’t execute other prominent members of his court who had also converted.
But is it as simple as a king taking retaliation against men who spurned his sexual advances? In his 2011 biography, Mwanga II: Resistance to Imposition of British Colonial Rule in Buganda, 1884-1899, Professor Samwiri Lwanga-Lunyiigo argues that the real reason for the executions was that the pages were spies feeding European colonizers information.
Lwanga-Lunyiigo also says the pages hadn’t really converted, citing contemporary writings by Scottish missionary Alexander Mackay that they hadn’t learned enough about Christianity to convert.
“Many a life has been lost in Buganda for learning no more than the alphabet,” Mackay wrote.
Lwanga-Lunyiigo puts the blame for the killings partially at the feet of Christian leaders. He wrote that there was plenty of advanced warning that the executions were coming, and yet the leadership allowed the dead men to become martyrs. He again cites Mackay, who said that Bishop James Hannington, one of the first to be killed, was “executed as a courageous person but not because of his faith in our lord Jesus Christ.”
Still, Lourdel’s take became the accepted version of events, with those executed becoming known as the Uganda Martyrs. The 22 Catholic martyrs were beatified in 1920 and canonized in 1964. A Catholic university in Nkozi, Uganda, is named the Uganda Martyrs University in their honor.
The Church of England used its martyrs as a means to drum up support for the British Empire absorbing the kingdom. Mwanga was deposed in 1888 by a British-backed rebellion. His brother, Kiweewa, took the throne for all of a month and was replaced by their other brother Kalema, who ruled for a year.
After negotiating with the British and giving up some power to the British East Africa Company, Mwanga was restored to power in 1889. In 1894, he was forced into making Buganda a British protectorate, and three years later, he tried to declare war on the British to take back his kingdom. The war lasted only 15 days, and he was deposed in absentia after fleeing to German East Africa.
Mwanga’s post-rule life was short and brutal. After again attempting to fight the British for Buganda, he was captured, tortured and exiled to the Seychelles. His torture continued there, and he was forcefully baptized into the Church of England and renamed Danieri. He died in 1903, beaten and starved. He was only in his mid-30s.
England eventually granted independence in 1962, and Uganda was politically unstable until a military coup in 1971. Some historians think that the British government may have helped with the coup, but regardless, it led to General Idi Amin taking over the country until 1979. Amin’s rule was one of the bloodiest, most brutal regimes in modern history.
Just as he was during his reign, Mwanga has been used as a propaganda figure throughout Uganda’s history. However, Rao points out that his reputation has changed with time. Following the country’s 1962 independence, he was seen as “an African patriot,” with those he executed being “imperial collaborators.” But during Amin’s reign of terror, the killed pages were seen as “symbols of resistance to tyranny.”
As for Mwanga’s sexuality, it was usually downplayed or omitted from the legend entirely. For example, in the mainstream news coverage between 1991 and 2004, Rao says the element of the legend that the pages refused to have sex with Mwanga was rarely, if ever, mentioned at all.
In 2004, Rao cites the beginning of the modern conservative Ugandan view that Mwanga was, to quote the hugely homophobic Pentecostal preacher Martin Ssempa, “a deviant homosexual who used his demigod status to appease his voracious appetite for sodomy by engaging in these unmentionable acts with his pages at court.” Ssempa also used Mwanga as a stand-in for the modern queer rights movement, painting LGBTQ activists as predators.
Today, Uganda has some of the harshest penalties on homosexuality in Africa, with those convicted of homosexuality facing life imprisonment. While the claim by Ugandan anti-gay activists is that homosexuality is “Western, ‘un-African’ and culturally inauthentic,” according to Rao, Mwanga’s rule is also cited as “evidence” by these bad actors that homosexuality leads to depravity and cruelty.
While religious leaders paint Mwanga as a monster, modern Ugandan queer activists point to Mwanga’s bisexuality as evidence that queerness is indeed natural and “African.” However, Roa calls these attempts to reframe Mwanga as “tentative and belated, offering an illustration of the pitfalls of mobilizing putative ‘sexual’ pasts in contemporary struggles for sexual freedoms.”
And in fact, LGBTQ+ activists are attempting to claim rights to both sides of the original conflict.
“In an interesting paradox, [LGBTQ+] activists have begun to explore multiple possibilities for identification in the narrative of the martyrdoms: Mwanga is evidence that same-sex desire is indigenous, while the martyrs provide an inspiring model of courage and self-sacrifice in the face of tyranny,” Roa writes.
So was Mwanga a queer icon who fought colonialism, or a depraved despot who ruled with an iron fist? The answer appears to be “Yes.” Real life tends to be complicated. Regardless of whether or not he should be celebrated, he’s definitely an interesting and important historical figure.
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