Cold Open

It’s the afternoon of May 23rd, 1966, at the Lubiri Palace in Kampala, Uganda.

President Mutesa scrambles behind the desk in his study as heavy artillery slams into the building. The walls shake. Dust drifts down from the ceiling. And, between explosions, he can hear distant shouts and screams for help.

41-year-old Mutesa is embroiled in a power struggle with his former Prime Minister, Milton Obote. Obote has suspended the constitution and declared himself the ruler of Uganda. Now, he’s ordered the Ugandan army to attack Mutesa’s compound in the capital and capture him dead or alive.

Mutesa is sure it will be dead, if this bombardment continues…But then suddenly, the artillery stops.

Mutesa lifts his head cautiously above the desk as his chief advisor and a small group of guards burst into the room. They help Mutesa to his feet as the chief advisor explains that a thunderstorm has temporarily halted the advance of the Ugandan Army. But the rain won’t last forever. If they’re going to escape with their lives, this is their only chance.

Mutesa gives a quick nod. Then they all hurry out of the office into a hallway. Lights flicker overhead, and their feet crunch on debris as the guards hurry them toward a back door.

Outside the palace gardens are veiled by sheets of heavy rain. Squinting through the downpour, Mutesa can just see the walls that ring the compound. They’ll have to run for it.

Clinging to his advisor, Mutesa dashes downhill. He flinches as a crack of thunder seems to break right above his head. But he makes it safely to the wall. Now, he just has to climb it.

With his guards' help, Mutesa scrambles clumsily up the wet brick. Reaching the top, he pulls himself over and half-jumps and half-falls down the other side.

He lands heavily on the blood-red soil below. The others clamber over the wall after him and pull Mutesa to his feet. Drenched, he limps forward, clutching his advisor’s shoulder for support.

Beneath their feet, the muddy grass gives way to asphalt—they've made it to the street, and bright lights suddenly appear ahead, advancing straight toward them.

Through the downpour, Mutesa recognizes the distinctive white and blue colors of a Kampala taxicab.

The guards flag the cab down and quickly bundle Mutesa and his advisor inside. They order the driver to get them away from the compound as quickly as possible. Through the rain-streaked taxi windows, Mutesa stares back at the palace on the hills behind the wall, the home he will never see again.

With President Mutesa fleeing into exile, a new order takes charge in Uganda. The new president, Milton Obote, stamps his authority on the country. But his rule will depend on the support of the Ugandan Army and especially its increasingly powerful general Idi Amin.

Unfortunately for Obote, five years after the attack on the presidential palace, Amin will launch a coup of his own and usher in a brutal military dictatorship that will last until his dramatic fall on April 11th, 1979.

Introduction

From Noiser and Airship, I’m Lindsay Graham and this is History Daily.

History is made every day. On this podcast—every day—we tell the true stories of the people and events that shaped our world.

Today is April 11th, 1979: The Fall of Idi Amin.

Act One

It’s January 26th, 1971, in Kampala, the capital of Uganda.

General Idi Amin stands on a wide veranda and welcomes a nervous cluster of reporters to his home. Tall and powerfully built, Amin towers over the journalists, and the military medals pinned to his broad chest glint menacingly in the sunlight as he speaks.

Amin’s rise has been extraordinary. He grew up in a remote village in North West Uganda and has little education beyond learning the Quran. But in the aftermath of World War II, he joined the British colonial army in East Africa and rose quickly through its ranks. Starting as a cook, Amin eventually became one of the most senior Black soldiers in his regiment, the King’s African Rifles. When Uganda achieved independence from Britain in 1962, Amin was promoted even further and, in 1965, he was made head of the entire Ugandan army.

But by then, the newly independent Uganda was drifting toward civil war. A power struggle between Prime Minister Milton Obote and President Mutesa eventually saw Amin lead an attack on the presidential palace in May of 1966.

After the fall of Mutesa, the Army became even more powerful, and the new ruler of Uganda, Milton Obote, grew increasingly suspicious of Amin.

In 1969, Obote was targeted by assassins but survived, and rumors soon began to circulate that Amin was responsible for the attack. Obote demoted Amin and planned to have him arrested. But Amin struck first. In early 1970, while Obote was out of the country, Amin launched a coup.

Now, Amin has complete control over Uganda, and, after welcoming reporters onto his veranda today, he makes his first announcements as the country’s new President.

There will be nighttime curfews while the army provides security in all major cities and airports. But Amin vows that his one-man rule will only be temporary until free and fair elections can be held.

The military coup is greeted with joy on the streets of Kampala, and Amin quickly embarks on a tour of the country to shore up support for his new regime. Amin is known as ‘Big Daddy’ to his supporters, and to win over the crowds, he makes jokes in local languages, joins in with tribal dances, and even shows off his boxing skills honed over years competing in the military.

But this is only one side of Amin. During his early months in power, Amin also suspends large parts of the Ugandan constitution, creates a defense council that supersedes parliament, and has thousands of supporters of the old regime murdered.

It’s rumored that condemned men are run over by tanks or blown up. There are even stories that Amin keeps the heads of his enemies as trophies in a personal freezer.

Amin executes a former prime minister and a former governor of the Ugandan central bank. Even members of his own government aren’t safe. If Amin detects even the slightest hint of disloyalty, anyone can join the ranks of the disappeared. But no matter how many he kills, it seems there’s always another internal enemy for Amin to target.

And for decades, there has been a thriving South Asian community in Uganda. Originally brought over by the British to help construct the railroads, these South Asians have since established themselves as the most successful part of Uganda's middle class. They're shopkeepers, bankers, and business owners. But to Idi Amin, they're a threat.

As a young man, Amin once worked as a laborer for Ugandan Asian business owners, and he's nursed a grudge against this community ever since. He claims that they exploit Black Ugandans for profit and are holding the country back. So, in August 1972, he gives all Ugandan Asians 90 days to leave the country—or face the consequences.

A chaotic exodus follows. Ugandan Asians flee as refugees to London, Toronto, Delhi, and other towns and cities all over the world. The property they left behind is confiscated by the Ugandan government and handed over to regime loyalists. But most of these cronies have no interest beyond lining their pockets.

So, what were once thriving businesses are quickly driven into the ground. As corruption spreads, supply chains break down, and unemployment skyrockets. Soon, there are shortages of food and basic commodities in Uganda, and even freshwater is in short supply.

But as hardship rips through the country, Idi Amin’s paranoia and cruelty will only deepen. And soon it won’t just be the people of Uganda who will pay the price.

Act Two

It’s July 1st, 1976, inside Entebbe Airport, 30 miles south of Kampala, and six years after Idi Amin seized power in Uganda.

At the back of a dim departure lounge, a young boy sits on a blanket, gripping his mother’s hand. Around him, over a hundred other people huddle on mattresses, blankets, and airport chairs, anxiously awaiting their fate.

A few days ago, they were all just ordinary passengers on an Air France flight from Tel Aviv to Paris. But during a stopover in Athens, German-Palestinian hijackers took control of the plane and diverted it thousands of miles south to Uganda. Now, guarded by the armed terrorists and soldiers from the Ugandan Army, these passengers are all now hostages.

The hijackers demand the release of 53 Palestinian prisoners and a ransom of $5 million from Western governments. If they don’t get what they want, they say they’re going to start shooting the hostages.

But the young boy doesn’t understand any of this, he just wants to go home. Down the terminal, he hears marching footsteps. The hijackers open the doors, and an entourage of well-dressed officials enter the room. Maybe this is a sign of a breakthrough and negotiations, but then the boy sees that at the helm of the group is a huge man in military uniform.

He visits them almost every day and terrifies the boy more than any of the hijackers.

By now, Idi Amin’s self-proclaimed titles include “Lord of all the Beasts of the Earth and Fishes of the Seas”, as well as “Conqueror of the British Empire in Africa in general and Uganda in particular”. Others call him less complimentary names, though. International media details his harem of mistresses, his countless children, and the gruesome execution methods he uses. But Amin seems to revel in his status as a cartoon villain and is even known to tell jokes about the taste of human flesh.

So when he meets the hostages at the airport, Amin tries to make light of this situation too. But no one in the terminal is in the mood to laugh. Displeased, Amin then proceeds to rant at the hostages, emphasizing his role as their protector and savior, before marching off again.

But it’s not just the hostages who are treated to his strange performances. In front of the world’s media, Amin boasts about his pivotal role in the hostage negotiations and poses as an international statesman. But in reality, he’s just enjoying the limelight and has no intention of resolving the crisis.

What Amin doesn’t realize is that others are about to bring the situation to a bloody end without him.

And just before midnight on July 3rd, an elite Israeli commando unit infiltrates the airport. When they enter the terminal, a fierce gunfight ensues. The hijackers are all killed, along with an Israeli commander, three of the hostages, and 40 Ugandan soldiers. The surviving hostages are then led to military jets and promptly flown back to Israel.

This leaves Idi Amin furious. He feels he’s been humiliated in front of the entire world. In the aftermath of the Israeli raid, he has 14 of his own officers executed for negligence. And orders that one elderly hostage, who was rushed to a local hospital before the rescue, to be dragged from her bed and beaten to death.

This violent response isolates Amin further. More than ever, he’s now an international pariah. But this only fuels his growing paranoia and provokes him to step up his attacks against his opponents.

He has regime critic and Anglican Archbishop Janani Luwum arrested and executed. And in the countryside, hundreds of suspected opponents are slaughtered at the Tanzanian border.

Then to counter perceived foreign threats, Amin diverts more and more money to the military, leaving Uganda’s education, transport, healthcare and infrastructure paralyzed.

With the economy on the brink of collapse, he then decides there’s only one way to revitalize his stagnating country—war.

In October 1978, Amin launches a raid into North West Tanzania, an area long claimed by Uganda. But with his army hollowed out by corruption and nepotism, the incursion quickly falls apart, and Tanzania declares war on Uganda in return.

Floundering, Amin offers to resolve the dispute with a boxing match against the President of Tanzania, to be refereed by none other than Muhammad Ali. But for many Ugandans, such jokes aren’t funny anymore. Uganda exiles in Tanzania form a resistance movement called The National Liberation Front, with just one primary goal, to remove Idi Amin from power, and, in early 1979, Tanzanian and Ugandan Liberation soldiers cross the border into Uganda.

After almost a decade of inventing enemies within Ugandan society, Idi Amin now faces a real one on his doorstep. But his corrupt rule has left the country in no state to repel the invaders, and it won’t be long before his cruel regime is finally brought to an end.

Act Three

It’s April 11th, 1979, outside the Lubiri Palace in Kampala, three months after Tanzanian troops crossed into Uganda.

On the palace grounds, a Ugandan Liberation soldier advances up a red soil path. Concrete walls rise on either side, converging on a dark tunnel entrance ahead. With his rifle raised, he creeps cautiously up the path toward the shadowy opening.

As he enters, the rotting stench of death overwhelms him. His eyes adjust, and he sees that the tunnel walls are lined with iron cages, packed with decomposing corpses. Piles of skulls line the pathway, placed neatly next to various torture instruments.

As Tanzanian tanks roll into Kampala, torture chambers like these are discovered all around the country. They earn the Ugandan dictator Idi Amin a bleak new nickname: The Big Daddy, the Lord of All the Beasts of the Earth and the Fishes of the Sea, is now simply known as the 'Butcher of Uganda'.

As his capital falls and his regime crumbles, Amin flees Uganda and heads into exile. He will never see the country he ruled again. But instead, he will eventually settle in Saudi Arabia, where he will spend the rest of his days in peaceful retirement.

Back in Uganda, Idi Amin's fall ushers in another tumultuous period for the country. Milton Obote returns, but there’s another civil war, and he is overthrown, leading to the rise of Yoweri Museveni, Uganda’s long-serving leader.

But the legacy of Idi Amin is still debated in Uganda and beyond. He is revered by some for his role in the early years of Ugandan independence, but his heinous crimes are remembered and reviled by many more.

Idi Amin's rule drove Uganda to the brink of destruction, and though his regime was toppled and the madness of his rule eventually ended, his ghost still haunts Uganda, decades after he lost power on April 11th, 1979.

Outro

Next on History Daily. April 14th, 1935. One of the largest dust storms in American history brings devastation to Oklahoma and Texas.

From Noiser and Airship, this is History Daily, hosted, edited, and executive produced by me, Lindsay Graham.

Audio editing by Muhammad Shahzaib.

Sound design by Mollie Baack.

Sound design by Gabriel Gould.

Sound design by Matthew Filler.

Supervising Sound Designer Matthew Filler.

Music by Thrumm.

This episode is written and researched by Angus Gavan McHarg.

Edited by William Simpson.

Managing producer Emily Burke.

Executive Producers are William Simpson for Airship, and Pascal Hughes for Noiser.