Lament and Uncertainty
The interpreters of “The Flutists’ Legal Case” referenced in this section put its themes into further political contexts through their multiple readings, each one offering a different perspective on the work’s possible meanings and applications. Their interpretations center on notions of leadership, caution, obedience, and justice, among other ideas that this chapter explores through the broader themes of lament and uncertainty. Kinene connects the bafflement that the singer of “The Flutists’ Legal Case” expresses in the opening lines to the notion that one needs to be particularly careful when talking about leaders. His analysis highlights the idea of mediating mutuality, as success and failure in politics can result in complications that undermine the trust and reciprocity of a relationship. As he suggests, when a person desperately seeks to hold on to his power, he may tend to lash out against those who threaten that power. As such, any mutual relationship in a power dynamic can easily turn into a dangerous and self-destructive excursion, as one will seek to sabotage the other’s success in one’s own favor. Thus, it is important to tread warily while in the presence of those who display a particular fear of change or difference. Kinene explains how their panicked attachment to power could be dangerous for any who engages with them:
It is unwise for subjects to give leaders the slightest chance to convict them of wrongdoing, even if they might believe they have done nothing wrong. In other words, there should be no doubt as to the consequences of a particular action if one has truly thought it through before taking it. The same concept applies to acknowledging mistakes. People should refrain from talking carelessly about leaders because their comments can annoy or anger them and thus cause the responsible parties harm. They should restrain unabashed gossip as much as possible. If it is possible that one’s comments will upset and disturb a leader, one should avoid them. One must refrain from this talk because leaders have the power to single out people and punish them. This phenomenon played out during a recent by-election in Lira District. During the event, some people smashed in President Museveni’s car with a rock. Assuming it was the act of a member of the opposition, he ordered an attack on the opposition leader, Bobi Wine. Incidentally, the attack never went as planned, as Museveni’s bodyguards shot and killed Bobi Wine’s driver instead of the leader himself. To reiterate, it is not wise to annoy or anger people in power as they will likely retaliate. However, the potential for leadership and politics to cause problems for others does not just apply to common people—it applies to other civil servants as well. Leaders who feel that those below them threaten them may try to sabotage others. This could be through threats, slander, and blackmail, among other tactics. The goal is to make potential rivals quit politics entirely due to their lack of career success. Parties undertake most of these schemes at an individual level. A person looks to cause harm to another, targets him, and ultimately causes his arrest and punishment. They plan out a trap for their rivals to fall into, which is why, especially in the world of politics, it is important to not blindly accept what others give to one, lest it be a trick.1Kinene interview, December 16, 2019.
Kinene’s interpretation of “The Flutists’ Legal Case” contemplates the ways the initial singers could have avoided their bitter end. By focusing on the punishment levied on them and the reasons behind it, Kinene articulates the importance of caution when encountering the powerful. Otherwise, one might repeat the mistake of these court flutists. To him, the song becomes a cautionary tale to those who engage with the strong, challenging us to perceive the risks that might arise if one fails to behave thoughtfully.
Kinene then focuses on the bafflement of the singer when he suddenly faces the doors of death, illustrating the vertigo that comes with personal change. As for politics, this realization has supposedly been ignored by Uganda’s leaders, as he describes their confusion and frustration with people who wish to oust them from positions of power. Rather than accepting such changes, they become stuck on them, so obsessed that they begin crafting stories as to why a change should not have happened. Such resistance to change is commonplace, as ordinary people are constantly inventing alternate—or “right”—worlds, where things go as expected and as desired, where they can remain in power for as long as they please. For politicians and common people alike, these stories grant them a sense of agency over their lives. For leaders, having such control means retaining power by whatever means they deem necessary. It is a question of priorities, and when their priorities are so far removed from their environment, it means that the leader cannot recognize the problems of the people, let alone solve them. According to Kinene, this is one of many problems tied with incessantly resisting change, for when it does occur, people are unprepared and unable to respond:
When some leaders leave positions of power, they complain bitterly about how the masses failed to appreciate the good that they did them. However, the leaders should realize that these complaints will only embitter the masses toward them, especially if they ignored and undervalued the people during their time in power. This point also applies to former leaders’ comments about their successors. Even if successors might be doing a better job than the former leaders, the previous leaders might bitterly criticize them, showing their inability to accept loss. They fail to grasp that the best course of action after the masses remove them from their positions is to move on. Often, however, they dwell on it, remaining focused on the past in a way that is neither beneficial to themselves nor others. They claim that they have done wonders for the people, never considering that perhaps it is their less than stellar performance that led to their removal. To be more successful, they need to accept the changes that come their way, as well as any criticism that might arise from blunders in their leadership. They need to accept the blame for their wrongdoings.2Ibid.
The concept of lamenting change that Kinene problematizes also reflects the striking value shift that takes place when one encounters the end of life. It stems from the realization that many of the values once cherished no longer matter. Modern leaders, again, highlight this reality, as they are confused and distraught at the thought of losing all that they once fought so hard for. They become unable to love life because they are too focused on the inherently ephemeral and shallow values they cling to. Power and wealth seduce them and blind them to the world of potentialities that exist beyond the reaches of material wealth and influence. They stake their lives on these most shallow values and suffer profoundly as a result. They abandon life in favor of security, safety, and order. These points go beyond moral criticism, as the suffering the leaders in question encounter is not from some otherworldly retaliation for their evil deeds. Instead, this suffering is a direct extension of the deeds and obsessions, as they become lost in themselves and lose the capacity to appreciate life, suffering and all. These dynamics allow the message of “The Flutists’ Legal Case” to connect to the way one might come to understand change. It depicts death as the ultimate instance of change, revealing the song as a piece that recognizes and embraces such change for its tragedy and its vivacity. Furthermore, rather than claiming that such events are wrong or should not have happened, the song recognizes them as necessary extensions of every person’s fate.
In the same way that a dancing dog only pays attention to what is unimportant (lines 7 and 12), people who are prejudiced allow half-baked conceptions to shape their understanding of entire groups of people. In his interpretation, John Magandaazi Kityo explains how prejudice arises from a fear of otherness and one’s ignorance of the inherent interdependence of people:
Prejudice has resumed among the people of Uganda. Right now, it is possible to have a situation where someone will not get a job offer based on generalizations about them. Perhaps the employer assumes that the Banyoro people are better than the Baganda people, or something of that nature. Some people maintain a grip on the past even when that history is not just. They should remember that a lot has changed and that the people of today are not the same as those of the past. “The Flutists’ Legal Case” explores this notion further by reminding us that there should be an individual responsibility for sin rather than a group one. The danger in not separating an individual from the group they come from, whether ethnic or economic, is that it is easy to blame them for things that were not their fault but the fault of others or their ancestors. One should not hate a child for the actions of his parents.3Kityo interview, December 14, 2019.
In the first sense, John Magandaazi Kityo speaks to how understanding personal nuance is an antidote to prejudice, which arises from attempts to organize the world in a linear manner, as anything nonlinear is considered chaotic or disorderly. Prejudice also attempts to reduce the infinite complexities of life into singular and isolated traits that seek to determine identity. So, like Mr. Dog’s only paying attention to the snapping, prejudice can only pay attention to the most superficial and obvious qualities and as such produces caricature-like figures that are always inaccurate. These dynamics mirror the state of some of Uganda’s modern leaders when they attempt to make the world coherent when it simply cannot be. Many do so by justifying their own rule and criticizing that of their successors, desperately trying to prove that the present path was not the right one to go down. Overall, prejudice is an agonizing resistance to the natural, changing order of the world.
As Kityo highlights, the generalizations and biases that people produce toward groups lead to unintended consequences, and eventually these prejudices will affect interactions. Steven Mukasa Kabugo also looks at this interpretation but more specifically addresses those whom a musician could face and, indeed, those whom the titular musician of the song faced:
In the past, if a musician sang something disrespectful and the king found out that he insulted him, the royal soldiers would come for the musician and kill him. Accordingly, “The Flutists’ Legal Case” came about as a result of a musician’s earnest request to explain himself and his perceived wrongdoings through trial.4The song “The Handsome Catch a Slight Squint” (“Empujjo Zikwata Balungi”), chapter 4, describes an attempt to assuage King Ssuuna II (r. ca. 1824–1854). Drawing on the wisdom of and lesson from this song, many contemporary Baganda elders emphasize to youth that because the future is always uncertain, they should always try and get whatever they need in the present moment. For singers, if there is something they want from a leader, they should praise or flatter him so that they can reach their goal and secure a better future.5Kabugo interview, December 19, 2019.
The future is always uncertain, so it is crucial to mediate circumstances to achieve desired outcomes. One must continue living and growing in the face of uncertainty, learning to maneuver rather than codify it. This view demonstrates the importance of not just throwing oneself into the world blindly and passively but of actively rolling the dice of stepping into fate with both eyes open. These lessons change “The Flutists’ Legal Case” as more than a depiction of fate but as a response to it. Thus, the song does not merely describe the singer’s circumstance but also his attempts to overcome it, as he seeks to placate the anger of the king who is punishing him. In the case of King Ssuuna II’s musicians, their music did not simply describe the situation passively. It was also an active attempt to shape and move the world around them. This act speaks to the song’s function as a living and active part of the world. The process of reimagining exemplifies this dynamic. Interpreters continue to reimagine each piece of the song in a way that applies it to a fresh context. They revive it in these instances, renewing its capacity to impact the world in new ways.
Edward Ssebunnya Kironde’s reading of “The Flutists’ Legal Case” also focuses on the appeals to emotion that the singer makes. These appeals are one way that people may try to get back into the good graces of a leader after having fallen from favor. The singer seems to invoke emotional details to stir the sympathies of the king and reduce his punishment, thus dodging the true consequences of his actions. This process reminds Kironde of contemporary politicians who are constantly posturing to ensure their own success:
The masses themselves, more than the individual leader, determine the ethos and atmosphere of a particular leadership. In the case of the flutists, they worked to reverse their ousting from the court by praising the king. They always had something good to say about their king to mark themselves as worthy of their positions. In a matter of speaking, they were just like some national politicians in Uganda. The more junior members of the political scene like Kusaasira, Big Eye, and Full Figure are always acting in praise of President Museveni, much as the flutists did for the king. They are concerned with preserving their own positions of power and are willing to manipulate the system to gain from it. In due course, they can convince others of that which they have no real knowledge of. Beyond politicians, often people in general fall into this rut of sycophantic praise, hoping that they will gain something from it. This practice typically happens when dealing with foreigners or sources of money from abroad. Despite a desire to fund projects, such as for a student’s tuition costs, from local financial sources, whenever foreign investment or funds become available, fundraisers tend to forget their initial plans entirely. They lose the bigger picture and focus instead on the sheer quantity of money they can get, regardless of where it comes from. They flatter and praise in the same way the flutists did to manipulate others for their own benefit.6Kironde interview, December 19, 2019.
By comparing the singer’s call to pity with the flattery that so many politicians use, Kironde shows the ways manipulation is a crucial part of mediating relationships as well as the participants within them. This perspective diverts from the previous commentary on the importance of mediation and caution when encountering powerful figures. Conversely, this view suggests that such mediation could lead to the downfall of all involved. As is the case in Uganda, attempts at manipulation might lead to corruption, if a person uses slick language to get away with benefiting from public funding. Such actions could also lead to the uplifting of certain leaders regardless of what they do, leading to the result that those in power are more likely to stay in power, regardless of the benefits they provide the people. This is in part because those who work under them exclusively compliment and affirm them instead of criticizing them honestly. This viewpoint provides a caveat to the song that the singer’s performance is not purely honest. If he is not careful, his strategy may result in disaster. In other words, the singer’s method is high risk, and the listener must treat it with great caution. As we saw with King Ssuuna II, his musicians may have praised and manipulated him, but they only did so as a way of subverting his rule in other ways, hiding their true criticism behind the apparent flattery of the song. However, the politicians that Kironde describes do the opposite. They allegedly praise and flatter those above them with no thought to the good of the people or the senior leaders they praise, instead only seeking benefits for themselves. They throw everyone else under the bus for their own gain.
Turning back to the discussion on death, Kabugo’s comments appear to evoke the lyrics of the song about the subject. The singer goes alone, overcome by death because of his lack of children. For someone without children, death is the end of their existence, whereas if they had children, Kabugo explains, they would have passed on their likeness and talents so that parts of them would live on:
Many people pass down their talents to those who are close to them, especially to their children. When people die and leave this world, it is natural for those who were close to them to experience a variety of emotions, grief and sadness often chief among them. However, if they had children who remain, those they were close to are likely to be less sad, knowing that the children might continue to carry the deceased person’s talents even though the deceased him- or herself is gone. The performer of “The Flutists’ Legal Case” encourages people to have families of their own so that the people they leave behind will not forget them even after their death. He mentions dry banana leaves as a representation of how people can ignore and neglect those without children when death takes them. If a person is childless, who will truly mourn him or her? The general message is that it is not good for someone, particularly those with great talent, to die having not brought children into the world first.7Kabugo interview, December 19, 2019.
Kabugo’s discussion of the connections of “The Flutists’ Legal Case” to themes of kinship and legacy transform the song into a warning for those who have yet to die. Thus, he shows how it advises people to procure their legacies before they die so that they might live on through those who succeed them. He alludes to the idea that having a legacy softens the blow of death by allowing the deceased to subsist in the figures of those that they leave behind. With Kabugo’s analysis, the song becomes an imaginative conception of the self, arguing that life is not merely contained in the body but that it also resonates in the bodies of those it encounters. As Kelly Askew puts it, “The self, then, as a performed character, is not an organic thing that has a specific location, whose fundamental fate is to be born, to mature, and to die; it is a dramatic effect arising diffusely from a scene that is presented.”8Askew 2002, 20. In other words, it exists outside the temporalities of human life. One’s conceptions, desires, and instincts come back to life in friends and family, having a profound effect on the way that they conceive of and relate to the world. This perspective also applies to “The Flutists’ Legal Case” itself, as the ways its own legacy is born in the interpretations that spring from it become clear. It is a child to its composer in much the same way that this chapter’s interpretations are children to it. Each version of the song becomes an extension of its life, a reimagined form that revitalizes it in a new body of meanings.
Kinene continues his earlier comments about twenty-first-century leadership. His thoughts reflect the sentiments that Kironde has already voiced on some contemporary leaders:
They take as much as they can get, feeling no remorse for those who are left to pick through the scraps. People like this also take things to give them to those who are close to them, especially their children. Sometimes, someone may take something for individualistic, selfish uses which others had planned to use as a communal resource. They are not concerned with the well-being of others and instead only consider their own satisfaction. This happens especially among politicians and leaders. They embezzle funds that the government is supposed to use for healthcare or infrastructure and use them for their personal business. This hypocrisy is evident in “The Flutists’ Legal Case” itself, particularly in the lyric “Dry banana leaves that cover our fellows, are the same they use to roast animals” (line 17) as well as its variation “Dry banana leaves that cover our fellows, are the same hunters use to roast animals” (line 18). A few leaders use things that are intended to help the masses for personal gains, at the expense of many.9Kinene interview, December 16, 2019.
Kinene reframes our understanding of the banana leaves to reflect a criticism of selfishness and greed in modern Uganda and Africa as a whole. He shows how hunters who use the banana leaves, usually meant for funeral ceremonies or covering the ground that shelters the dead, prevent this tradition from happening when they use them to roast their small game. The hunters, despite the relatively low importance of their task, take the leaves for themselves and thus deprive the funeral goers of what they need to send off their friends and loved ones. This practice portrays a model for what happens when one does something at the expense of others and speaks to the dynamic of community and individuality, as we see in “The Flutists’ Legal Case.” It recasts the song as a commentary on acceptable behavior while still maintaining the philosophical lens around it.
Commenting on the lyric “And you, the principal of tongues, you will always eat what you see” (line 8) and its variation (line 24), Kinene reorients “The Flutists’ Legal Case” around the notion of bad behavior and the consequences that arise from it. He particularly explores the damage that those who deceive can do, whether the consequences fall on themselves or others:
People should avoid gossiping and indiscreetly spreading rumors because these situations may easily turn against them in the end. It is important to never purposefully spread a rumor because sometimes when people interweave words, the repercussions that come along with doing so might not be in their favor. Not supporting or engaging in these sorts of behaviors is important because it ensures one’s innocence should anyone accuse them of any wrongdoing. Moreover, people need to work toward unity. Particularly within the political sphere, there is a lot of discord, especially spawned by a failure to acknowledge the assistance that others provide. Even when people are accomplices, they are quick to throw one another under the bus to get ahead. Thus, the saying, Gw’olya naye enkejje enjokerere; y’akuyita dduma bikalu” (One with whom you eat roasted haplochromis; calls you “devourer of hard things”). Some people may engage in unbecoming behavior with others, only to turn around and sell them out when the time comes. Again, their first and foremost interest is protecting themselves. Such bootlickers have caused many problems. Therefore, people need to be wary of those who agree too readily because they are often concealing self-serving behavior.10Ibid.
Here, “devourer of hard things” means a glutton, which also refers to a person who turns against another. Kinene’s commentary transforms “The Flutists’ Legal Case” into an advisory tale that encourages listeners to pursue unity and kinship over material wealth and personal ambition, not because it is necessarily the right thing to do but because a deterioration of life might occur within oneself if one does not. Such might have been the case with the singer who, according to the lyrics, no longer could appreciate his life because he had probably given it all up for his own hyper-individualized sense of value and success. In fact, other lyrics suggest that the singer might be standing at the doors of death as a result of living only for selfish purposes. By alienating those around him, he has lost any recourse for his current condition or position. He cannot convince anyone to help him, as he has lived his life only for himself. In much the same way, he will go alone through death and will be without kin to carry on his legacy (lines 5–6, 11, 15, and 26). At the end, he suddenly becomes aware that he misplaced his values throughout his life. He realizes with a sudden rush of regret that he could have avoided his current circumstance if he had carried himself differently. This state suggests an understanding of “The Flutists’ Legal Case” that reduces the sympathy one feels for the singer, portraying him as one who is reaping what he has sown rather than one who is struck by an unfortunate and unavoidable circumstance.
Transitioning toward a more spiritual analysis of “The Flutists’ Legal Case,” Kibirige discusses the significance of the lyric “You see, Mukasa of Zzinga” (line 25). Mukasa is a chief administrator of the gods in traditional Kiganda beliefs. According to Kibirige, this invocation of the supernatural relates to the concept of cce—a personal spirit or god—that contributes to the spirituality of the song. In his description of cce, Kibirige notes that it appears as a gut instinct, a feeling that directs one in a particular direction without necessarily justifying it with the logical deduction one might find in discursive topics. Flipping the script on the musicians, the interpreter portrays them as manipulators instead of protagonists and the king as a victim of their influence, or more generally, he depicts the leader as one who fails to stick by his cce. In relation to “The Flutists’ Legal Case,” the leader disobeys its advice and guidance by giving the musicians a second chance after it has already warned him not to. Kibirige elaborates on how this reasoning presents the message of the song as an instinctual and inexplicable phenomenon:
Leaders should attempt to listen to what some Baganda people might call their cce, a personal spirit or god. Each person has his or her own unique cce, and it is vital to listen to it because disobeying it tends to result in woe. Leaders especially must respect their cce. If it calls for someone to be punished, that person should be punished. And if a leader gives someone a second chance, he or she may have given it to the person against the wishes of his or her cce. In the case of the flutists that the song references, they seem to have defied the king’s cce, thereby manipulating their way back into the court after their initial dismissal. The king might not have listened to his cce and no one might have held him accountable for his ignorance of its wisdom. A similar event happened during the reign of a certain king. He dismissed the flutists from the court because he found out that one of them had had sexual relations with a princess. But the musicians came back and pleaded with the king’s heir to reinstate them in their positions, and he obliged. They easily manipulated him because he did not stand his ground.11Kibirige interview, December 18, 2019.
With this interpretation, “The Flutists’ Legal Case” becomes an embodied affirmation of spirit. Rather than wielding spirituality in opposition to the body, as a transcendent form against the lowly materiality and impurity of the flesh, it wields the body and spirit as extensions of each other. In addition, Kibirige’s analysis flips our interpretation of the singer and the king. Rather than considering them the protagonists of the story and the song, the interpreter presents them as the antagonists who sow dishonesty into the power dynamic. He forces us to recognize the multiplicity that exists in any situation by demonstrating the good and bad in both. Accordingly, we might appreciate how the king’s compromise ultimately enabled the bad behavior that first caused his father’s decision. This decision reflects poorly on both the king and the flutists, as neither party learns from the situation that previously caused so many problems.
Kibirige comments further on the idea of compromise, extending his discussion about the importance of trusting one’s gut in making decisions. He centers on the ways one might overcome manipulation by remaining steadfast in one’s will. He suggests that rather than attempting to always accommodate others, it is sometimes best to reject their demands and stand alone:
Many people today, leaders themselves included, disguise their motives and deceive others. When they appeal to their voters, they appear humble, accountable, and frugal. In reality, they mislead and cheat their supporters and vice versa. The supporters may refuse to listen to their leaders, and the leaders may hide information from their supporters. Both parties should be ready to show good in the face of evil rather than caving and matching that poor behavior with their own, because that evil will eventually catch up with them. For the story of the flutists, it is likely that the unpleasant behavior continued once the king allowed them back into the court. That was the repercussion for the king compromising his father’s decision. Leaders need to recognize that they should never compromise the truth, as doing so comes with serious repercussions.12Ibid.
This perspective seems to contradict other discussions of the importance of listening to one’s advisers or hearing the words of the people.
Harriet Kisuule summarizes the ideas that other interpreters have presented on contemporary leadership, concluding both the analysis of the song and its historical context by reflecting on one of the central themes of the composition’s narrative: how to be a good leader. She reinforces the recurring theme about reciprocity. However, whereas the previous instances speak to the cautiousness that is crucial to maintaining mutually beneficial relations, Kisuule speaks to the trust that is similarly vital to those relations. In essence, one must mediate and balance these two attitudes to create an effective and mutually beneficial dynamic. If one aspect substantially dominates the other, the relationship will likely suffer as a result. Kisuule states that it is up to readers to draw for themselves where the line is, where they may best establish trust and caution:
“The Flutists’ Legal Case” details the importance of being careful among leaders and politicians to avoid facing charges. Being careful requires obedience. If there is a situation that calls for one’s input, one should listen attentively, attempt to reach an appropriate compromise, and pass good judgment. But leaders must have the ability not only to properly correct and advise their subjects but also to accept corrections and advice in return. A good leader always makes his or her people feel as though he or she has listened to them and considered their voices. He or she sets a good example. If one was not blessed with natural leadership qualities, one should make up for it by attempting to develop them through concise goals and principles. Truthfulness and faithfulness are two of these important characteristics. Leaders who betray the masses lose their love and support, so it is best for them to be truthful. When they preside over disputes, or if they are trying to clarify an agreement between parties, they must be honest with both. They should also be able to share in the triumphs and defeats of their people—they need to be one with the masses, walking along with them, because leadership is ultimately an extension of the people. Leaders and their subjects must move along together.13Kisuule interview, December 21, 2019.
This position recasts “The Flutists’ Legal Case” as a multivalent depiction of reciprocity. Rather than positing a particular trait as the ultimate solution to any circumstance, this contradiction and added perspective show that such silver bullets simply do not exist. Instead, there is a constant process of reimagining, redistributing, and remaking that exists as long as the relationship endures. Much like the banana leaves that the song references, relationships undergo a perpetual cycle of growth, overcoming themselves as they progress and reconstituting themselves with new parts and new conceptions.
 
1     Kinene interview, December 16, 2019. »
2     Ibid. »
3     Kityo interview, December 14, 2019. »
4     The song “The Handsome Catch a Slight Squint” (“Empujjo Zikwata Balungi”), chapter 4, describes an attempt to assuage King Ssuuna II (r. ca. 1824–1854). »
5     Kabugo interview, December 19, 2019. »
6     Kironde interview, December 19, 2019. »
7     Kabugo interview, December 19, 2019. »
8     Askew 2002, 20. »
9     Kinene interview, December 16, 2019. »
10     Ibid. »
11     Kibirige interview, December 18, 2019. »
12     Ibid. »
13     Kisuule interview, December 21, 2019. »