What are political parties supposed to do for us? And if they don’t, what should we do? The majority of ordinary East Africans are likely to give very definite answers to these questions. Parties are supposed to deliver; right? And if they don’t, we should not vote for them; no?

Those who spend their professional lives thinking about things of this sort will claim that political parties champion their members’ interests. And, of course, in pursuit of power, political parties formulate policy agendas, espouse ideas and make pronouncements they believe reflect citizens’ concerns and aspirations.

Which is why, at least in countries such as Uganda, several parties tend to have manifestos that say literally the same things and make similar promises.

The phrasing may differ slightly, but the substance is the same, with the ambitions and aspirations of opposition parties mirroring what the NRM is already doing or has promised to do. Well, almost.

Remarkably, even when opposition political parties agree that the ruling party is doing badly, as in not investing enough in agriculture, health and education, they are rarely explicit about why they should be trusted to do better.

For a voter looking for something different, therefore, the idea of choosing a party to vote for on the basis of alternative policies and aspirations is only theoretical. The most a curious voter is likely to get from opposition parties are general declarations of intent, not solid roadmaps.

And while political parties claim to speak for their supporters or members, again in Uganda, links between parties and ordinary citizens are very weak.

Almost invariably, parties operate under the influence of a small coterie in their leadership and an even smaller circle of influential backers. Some, among the smaller ones, are instruments of single power seekers supported by hangers-on and right-hand men and a few women.

Which raises the question: Why do people support or join political parties? Is it because of what parties claim are their values? Is it because of what parties say they will do once in power?

Random conversations with politically conscious Ugandans, men and women, young and old, suggest some answers. And the answers point to some interesting differences between people who joined parties during the 1950s and 1960s, and those who did so later, during the post-Idi Amin period, especially since 2005 when no-party politics was abandoned and multiparty competition reintroduced.

During the 1950s and 1960s, people generally viewed political parties through a religious prism. Consequently, with very few exceptions, religious affiliation often determined which party one joined.

These days, however, considerations of which party one ought to join are very different. One young woman I asked does not speak for everybody.

However, her explanation captures the flavour of a new trend. She joined the party she belongs to because she wanted to stand for election as a local councillor in a Kampala suburb. She chose it because it was the most likely to enable her to win a seat, “not those little parties that have no money and can’t help me win an election.” Today, as in the 1950s and 1960s, little thought is given to values or even ideology.

I was reminded of these things by media reports about a recent study by the NGO, Twaweza, about what ordinary Tanzanians are thinking in connection with their next presidential and parliamentary elections.

Apparently Tanzanians are unhappy about the poor performance of their government, especially on issues to do with delivery. For that reason, sizeable numbers are either considering voting for, or have decided to vote for, the opposition. The young generation are reported to be particularly attracted to opposition parties, mainly Chadema, which is hardly surprising.

If anything, that is as things should be: Voters should punish non-performance by voting for someone else. Well, things are not that simple; a larger percentage of Tanzanians, Twaweza discovered, are not about to punish the ruling party by channelling their votes elsewhere.

And this won’t be the first time it happens. The Kikwete government is not the first one to come under criticism for non-performance. The regime of his immediate predecessor, Benjamin Mkapa, had its own issues, especially during his second term when, apparently, he pleaded inability to implement fully the manifesto CCM had charged him with implementing, saying “haitekelezeki” (“Can’t be done.”)

As Mkapa bowed out, the new CCM candidate, Jakaya Kikwete, promised a new beginning and was showered with an avalanche of votes, delivering a knockout punch for his party.

His second-term tally may not have been as impressive, and the next man — there is hardly serious mention of women among likely successors — may not get a landslide, but CCM, the party that has presided over years of non-performance, will remain in charge.

So why do Tanzanians stick with CCM each time, even as they complain that under its leadership things are not exactly the way they want them to be? If not poor performance, what will it take for Tanzanians to show CCM the door?

Frederick Golooba-Mutebi is a Kampala- and Kigali-based researcher and writer on politics and public affairs. E-mail: [email protected]