
Opinion By Andrew Irumba
The arrest of former Uganda People’s Defence Forces officer Michael Katungi Mpeirwe and the prospect of his extradition to the United States have reignited an uncomfortable debate about sovereignty, reciprocity, and the unequal application of international justice.

Katungi, who faces allegations in the United States of participating in an international arms trafficking conspiracy linked to Mexico’s Cartel de Jalisco Nueva Generación (CJNG), is presumed innocent unless proven guilty in a court of law. Yet his case raises broader questions that extend beyond the allegations themselves.

Should African states routinely surrender their citizens to Western jurisdictions while those same Western powers rarely, if ever, permit their own nationals to face trial before African courts?
That question deserves serious consideration.
Many scholars of international law, particularly those associated with Third World Approaches to International Law (TWAIL), argue that today’s international legal order remains structurally unequal.
According to this school of thought, legal norms are often enforced more rigorously against developing nations than against major global powers. While weaker states are expected to comply with extradition requests and international judicial processes, powerful countries frequently invoke sovereignty, national security, or diplomatic immunity to shield their own citizens.

Article 2(1) of the United Nations Charter recognizes the sovereign equality of all states. In practice, however, critics argue that sovereignty often appears stronger for some nations than for others.
True international justice requires reciprocity. If legal obligations apply only to weaker states while stronger ones reserve exceptions for themselves, confidence in the fairness of the system inevitably suffers.
The United States has consistently demonstrated an unwavering commitment to ensuring that its citizens remain under American jurisdiction.

Numerous cases illustrate this approach.
In 2019, Anne Sacoolas, the wife of a U.S. intelligence officer stationed in the United Kingdom, left Britain after a road accident that killed teenager Harry Dunn. Although British authorities sought her extradition, Washington declined the request, arguing that diplomatic immunity applied.

Earlier, following the 1998 Cermis cable car disaster in Italy, where twenty civilians died after a U.S. military aircraft severed the cables supporting a ski lift, the American crew was tried by U.S. military courts rather than Italian courts despite widespread public outrage in Italy.
In Pakistan, CIA contractor Raymond Davis was released after intense diplomatic pressure following the fatal shooting of two Pakistani citizens.
In Germany, U.S. authorities refused to surrender CIA officers sought in connection with the kidnapping and torture of German citizen Khaled El-Masri.
In Mexico, the U.S. Supreme Court ruled in United States v. Alvarez-Machain that a criminal prosecution could proceed even after the defendant had been forcibly abducted from Mexican territory.
These and other cases reflect a consistent policy: when American citizens or personnel are involved, Washington prioritizes retaining jurisdiction.
The United States has also maintained a complicated relationship with international criminal justice.
Washington never ratified the Rome Statute establishing the International Criminal Court (ICC), arguing that American personnel should not be subject to foreign judicial authority.
More recently, the U.S. imposed sanctions on ICC officials following investigations involving American conduct abroad, reinforcing perceptions that international accountability is embraced selectively rather than universally.
For critics, these actions demonstrate a broader principle: powerful states frequently support international law when it advances their interests but resist it when their own citizens become the subject of scrutiny.
Against this backdrop, the Katungi case becomes more than a criminal matter.
It becomes a test of whether African governments possess sufficient confidence in their own judicial institutions.
Uganda, like many African countries, has functioning courts capable of conducting complex criminal proceedings. If evidence exists against a Ugandan citizen, some argue that the evidence could be presented before Ugandan courts under established principles of criminal jurisdiction, particularly where domestic law permits prosecution for serious transnational offences.
Such an approach would preserve accountability while affirming national judicial independence.
Instead, critics argue that automatic extradition risks reinforcing the perception that African courts are secondary institutions while justice is outsourced to Western capitals.
Supporters of extradition point out that refusing legitimate international requests may carry significant diplomatic consequences.
Countries that decline cooperation with major powers risk economic sanctions, visa restrictions, reduced security cooperation, and strained diplomatic relations.
This reality highlights the unequal balance of power in international relations.
For many developing countries, decisions about extradition are rarely made in a vacuum. They are often influenced by broader political and economic considerations.
This is where the African Union could play a more significant role.
Rather than allowing individual states to confront these pressures alone, the AU could work toward common standards governing extradition requests involving African citizens.
Such standards might include stronger reciprocity requirements, clearer protections for due process, and greater reliance on African courts and regional judicial mechanisms where appropriate.
A coordinated continental framework would strengthen Africa’s bargaining position while ensuring that accountability is not sacrificed.
None of this should be interpreted as suggesting that individuals accused of serious international crimes should escape prosecution.
They should not.
Justice must be done.
The more fundamental question is where that justice should be administered and whether international legal cooperation operates on genuinely equal terms.
If powerful countries insist on trying their own citizens at home while expecting African states to surrender theirs abroad, then the international legal order cannot reasonably claim to operate on the basis of sovereign equality.
The Michael Katungi case therefore raises issues far larger than one individual.
It challenges Africa to ask whether it possesses both the confidence and the political will to strengthen its own judicial institutions, demand reciprocal treatment from global powers, and pursue accountability without compromising sovereignty.
Justice should never become a one-way street.
Only when the same legal principles apply equally to powerful and weak nations alike can the international legal system claim to embody genuine fairness rather than unequal power.
writer is a pan African and Founding speaker and Chairman-Pan African Pyramid.
www.panafricanpyramid.com


