The Conversation – Africa – Page 23

December 9, 2025

Coups in Africa: how democratic failings help shape military takeovers – study

Source: The Conversation – Africa (2) – By Ernest Harsch, Researcher, Institute of African Studies, Columbia University

Mali, Burkina Faso, Niger, Guinea and Gabon have all suffered regime change in the last five years, led by men in military uniform.

Madagascar and Guinea-Bissau experienced the same fate in 2025. Benin looked to join the list in early December, but the civilian government held onto power – just.

The academic literature on coups in Africa has highlighted a wide range of influences and triggers. These include:

personal and institutional rifts within the armed forces
susceptibility to both elite manipulation and popular pressure
instigation by foreign powers against governments deemed hostile to their interests.

In a recent paper I added a further question: to what extent were democratic failings an element in the coups of the past six years?

I am a journalist and academic who has focused on African political and development issues since the 1970s. Among my most recently published books is Burkina Faso: A History of Power, Protest and Revolution.

In the paper I explored underlying shortcomings of Africa’s democracies as one major factor leading to military seizures. I focused on the recent coups in Mali, Guinea, Burkina Faso, Niger and Gabon.

I selected those cases because each of their takeovers was mounted against an elected civilian government. In some instances, I found, factors other than poor elections were also at play. The juntas in both Burkina Faso and Niger cited political defects of their elected, if somewhat ineffective, governments. But they mainly blamed their predecessors’ failure to put down growing jihadist insurgencies.

Insecurity was also a factor in Mali. But Mali, Guinea and Gabon all had elections commonly perceived to have been rigged or in violation of constitutional term limits. They provoked popular opposition which prompted officers to step in.

My main finding was thus that popular disappointment in elected governments was a prominent element. It established a more favourable context enabling officers to seize power with a measure of popular support.

That finding suggests that in order to better protect democracy in Africa, it is not sufficient to simply condemn military coups (as Africa’s regional institutions, such as the African Union and Economic Community of West African States, are quick to do). African activists, and some policymakers, have urged a step further: denouncing elected leaders who violate democratic rights or rig their systems to hang onto power.

If elected leaders were better held to account, then potential coup makers would lose one of their central justifications.

Problems are bigger than rigged polls

The problems, however, go beyond rigged polls, errant elected leaders, and violated constitutions. Many African governments, whether they are democratic or not, have great difficulty meeting citizens’ expectations, especially for improvements in their daily lives.

The deeper structural weaknesses of African states further contribute to hampering effective governance. As Ugandan anthropologist Mahmood Mamdani, Kenyan political scholar Ken Ochieng’ Opalo, and other African scholars have pointed out, those shortcomings include the externally oriented and fragmentary nature of the states inherited from colonial rule. These exclude many citizens from active political engagement and ensure government by unaccountable elites.

In particular, a neoliberal model of democracy has been widely adopted in Africa since the 1990s. That model insists that democracy be tethered to pro-market economic policies and greatly limit the size and activities of African states. That in turn hinders the ability of even well-elected governments to provide their citizens with security and services.

Conducting elections while continuing to subject African economies to the economic policy direction of the International Monetary Fund and World Bank has left them with a “choiceless democracy,” as Malawian economist Thandika Mkandawire termed it. That is, while voters may sometimes be able to change top leaders, they cannot alter basic economic policies. Such policies generally favour austerity and cutbacks over delivering jobs, education and healthcare.

So in addition to improving the quality of democratic systems on the continent, “coup proofing” African states will also require giving greater scope to popular input into real decision making, in both the political and economic spheres.

That will depend primarily on Africans themselves fighting for the democracies they want. Clearing the way for them means ending the all-too-common repression of street mobilisations and alternative views that displease the ruling elites.

Support for democracy

There may be general unhappiness with the flaws of Africa’s electoral systems. Surveys nevertheless demonstrate continued strong support for the ideals of democracy. Many ordinary Africans, moreover, are mobilising in various ways to advance their own conceptions of democratic practice.

For example, when the Macky Sall government in Senegal used repression and unconstitutional manoeuvres to try to prolong his tenure, tens of thousands mobilised in the streets in 2023-24 to block him and force an election that brought radical young oppositionists to power.

In Sudan, the community resistance committees that mobilised massively against the country’s military elites outlined an alternative vision of a people’s democracy encompassing national elections, decentralised local assemblies, and participatory citizen engagement.

Findings by the Afrobarometer research network, which has repeatedly polled tens of thousands of African citizens, provide solid grounds for hope. Surveys in 39 countries between 2021 and 2023 show that 66% of respondents still strongly preferred democracy to any alternative form of government.

For anyone committed to a democratic future for Africa, that is something to build on.

Ernest Harsch does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.

– ref. Coups in Africa: how democratic failings help shape military takeovers – study – https://theconversation.com/coups-in-africa-how-democratic-failings-help-shape-military-takeovers-study-271565

December 9, 2025

Roger Lumbala is accused of horrific war crimes in DRC: can his trial in France bring justice?

Source: The Conversation – Africa (2) – By Kerstin Bree Carlson, Associate Professor International Law, Roskilde University

The Democratic Republic of Congo (DRC) has been called “the worst place on earth to be a woman” and “the rape capital of the world”. A 2014 survey estimated that 22% of women and 10% of men had experienced sexual violence during the conflict in the country’s east. After years of impunity, Roger Lumbala, a 67-year-old former member of parliament who once led a rebel group in eastern DRC, is facing trial for these crimes. He is charged in a French court with complicity in crimes against humanity, including summary executions, torture, rape, pillage and enslavement. Kerstin Bree Carlson, a scholar of international criminal law and transitional justice, explains the significance of this trial and the controversies it has sparked.

What is the special war crimes chamber in Paris? And what is ‘universal jurisdiction’?

Lumbala is being tried before a special war crimes tribunal in Paris because France exercises “universal jurisdiction” over international atrocity crimes like genocide, crimes against humanity and war crimes. These are the crimes that are the remit of the International Criminal Court (ICC). Because the ICC is designed to be a court of last resort, hearing international atrocity crimes only when states cannot or will not, all ICC member states must criminalise international atrocity crimes in their domestic criminal codes.

Although courts usually only try cases against their own citizens or which occur on their own territory, France’s “universal jurisdiction” law allows it to hear cases regarding atrocity crimes committed outside France by non-French nationals. The law restricts the application of universal jurisdiction to individuals residing in France who are citizens of countries that are ICC members. Prosecutors in France’s special war crimes unit (“OCLCH”) furthermore enjoy discretion over which cases they pursue.

Prosecutions unfold as they do for any criminal case in France: a claim made by the prosecutor is sent to an investigative judge. The judge examines the claim neutrally, weighing evidence of guilt and innocence, to determine whether to issue an indictment. These findings can be appealed. When the appeals are finalised, if the indictment stands, the indicted individuals are put on trial before a panel of judges and a jury who will determine guilt (and an eventual sentence).

In addition to prosecution and defence, victims can participate in the proceedings as “civil parties”. Civil parties are full participants; they may call witnesses, address the court through argumentation, and question witnesses brought by prosecution and defence.

Lumbala’s path to the Paris court

Lumbala’s trial opened on 12 November 2025. The indictment alleges that Lumbala conspired to and was complicit in the commission of crimes against humanity in relation to Operation “Effacer le tableau” (Wipe the Slate Clean). This was a military campaign that terrorised eastern Congo in 2002-3.

The civil parties in Lumbala’s case played a central role in bringing Lumbala before the court. These include international NGOs such as TRIAL International, the Clooney Foundation for Justice, the Minority Rights Group, Amnesty International, We are not Weapons of War and others. These groups have recorded atrocity crimes in the DRC for decades, and some assisted in the 2010 Mapping report by the UN, a seminal document which detailed the extent of the violence between 1993 and 2003.

Lumbala has resided in France on and off since 2013. It was his application for asylum that put him on French authorities’ radar, and they opened an investigation into his alleged crimes in connection with his role as leader of a rebel group turned political party, Rally of Congolese Democrats and Nationalists (RCD-N). In late 2020, French authorities arrested him. Investigative judges issued an indictment against him in November 2023; that indictment was upheld by the appeals court in March 2024, leading to the opening of the trial. If convicted, Lumbala could face life imprisonment.

What is at stake in this trial?

Although a few low-level soldiers in the DRC have been tried, no high-ranking leader has been convicted for the pervasive practice of using rape as a weapon of war. A decade ago, one of Lumbala’s allies, Jean-Pierre Bemba, was prosecuted by the ICC for war crimes, including sexual violence committed in Central African Republic. Bemba’s 2016 conviction was widely celebrated as a victory for victims. His 2018 acquittal on appeal for procedural reasons was a bitter pill.

Victims wanting to address Lumbala directly have been served their own bitter pill. At the end of the first day of the trial, Lumbala announced that he did not recognise the court’s jurisdiction and would not participate in the trial. He told the court:

This is reminiscent of past centuries. The jury is French; the prosecutor is French. This court does not even know where DRC is.

Lumbala left the court and has not attended the trial since then. Every morning he is brought from jail, and sits in the basement of the court house instead of in the courtroom. He also fired his lawyers, who in turn refused to assist the court in providing a defence in absentia.

Technically, there is no problem; the trial may continue.

Symbolically, Lumbala’s absence deprives civil parties of the chance to address the defendant personally. For a victim, being able to face the alleged perpetrator as a rebalance of power is one of the purposes of trial, and contributes to justice; Lumbala’s absence may make the trial less fair for victims.

Without the participation of the defence, will the trial seem fair to others? For Lumbala and his team, who have been fighting France’s jurisdiction over this case for years, the move is in keeping with their general defence strategy of sowing doubt.

What this means for the court, and for the prosecution of universal jurisdiction cases more generally, is the larger question. If defendants can endanger judicial legitimacy by refusing to participate, it will not be the last time we see this strategy. Universal jurisdiction has been challenged in other countries: Belgium’s wide-reaching 1993 universal jurisdiction law was repealed in 2003 after a decade of practice. France’s more limited practice, akin to extraterritorial jurisdiction, is a test case for how individual countries can help support the work of the ICC. Although the ICC can investigate any case in or involving its member states, the unfulfilled arrest warrants against Russia’s Vladimir Putin and Israel’s Benjamin Netanyahu are a reminder of how difficult it can be for the ICC to take custody over defendants.

The greater significance of the Lumbala case is therefore what it may mean for France, or any country or institution, to prosecute atrocity crimes outside its borders, which will in turn have an impact on impunity for international atrocity crimes.

Kerstin Bree Carlson receives funding from Independent Research Fund Denmark (DFF)

– ref. Roger Lumbala is accused of horrific war crimes in DRC: can his trial in France bring justice? – https://theconversation.com/roger-lumbala-is-accused-of-horrific-war-crimes-in-drc-can-his-trial-in-france-bring-justice-270482

December 9, 2025

Thiaroye massacre: report on the French killing of Senegalese troops in 1944 exposes a painful history

Source: The Conversation – Africa (2) – By Martin Mourre, Historien et anthropologue spécialisé dans les armées coloniales et postcoloniales en Afrique de l’Ouest, École des Hautes Études en Sciences Sociales (EHESS)

The Thiaroye camp near Dakar was a Senegalese army barracks housing African soldiers called “tirailleurs sénégalais” (Senegalese riflemen). It welcomed men returning from the European front of the second world war, where the riflemen had been held as German prisoners of war while serving on the side of France. They were waiting for their long-overdue back pay and bonuses.

But at dawn on 1 December 1944, they were shot by their own French officers. What should have been a time of celebration became a bloodbath. France sought to downplay or deny the massacre for many years.

In 2024, ahead of the 80th anniversary commemorations of the massacre, Senegal’s Prime Minister Ousmane Sonko appointed a commission to establish the truth of what happened, to ensure proper recognition and reparations for the victims, and to assert Senegal’s sovereignty to write its own history.

Chaired by Professor Mamadou Diouf of Columbia University, one of its tasks was to draft a new report (a white paper) on Thiaroye. This was presented to President Bassirou Diomaye Faye on 17 October 2025.

Martin Mourre, a historian and anthropologist specialising in colonial armies, has studied this issue and explains what the new report brings to light and why Thiaroye remains so sensitive.

What happened at Thiaroye?

On 21 November 1944, the first group of former prisoners of war arrived at the Thiaroye camp to be demobilised. They were owed substantial sums, mainly the back pay accumulated during their captivity.

The French army refused to give them what they were owed, even though the funds were reportedly available in Dakar.

On 27 November, tensions escalated, prompting the intervention of a senior officer. He planned a repression operation that, on 1 December, turned into a massacre.

Even though a number of questions remain unanswered, the event is fairly well documented. The main debate revived by the new report and echoed in the media focuses on two issues: the death toll and the burial site of the victims.

Regarding the death toll, one may rely on a literal reading of the archives, which consistently report 35 deaths (or 70 in one officer’s report, phrased in a particularly obscure way).

On this point, the white paper does not appear to go further than previous research, which supports a higher estimate of 300 to 400 deaths.

How has France responded to the Thiaroye issue over the years?

France actively sought to erase the events at Thiaroye. In the weeks following the tragedy, French officials declared, according to archival records, that adequate measures must be taken to hide these hours of madness. The language reveals a deliberate effort to downplay and conceal the atrocity.

This continued long after independence in 1960. One of the most infamous examples is the censorship of the acclaimed film The Camp at Thiaroye by Senegalese filmmakers Ousmane Sembène and Thierno Faty Sow, which failed to find distributors in France when it was released.

However, things began to change in the 2000s, particularly when President Abdoulaye Wade organised official commemorations of the massacre. For the first time, a special French ambassador attending the commemoration acknowledged the colonial army’s responsibility for the tragedy.

A more prominent gesture came in 2014 when President François Hollande visited the military cemetery. He delivered a speech and handed over a batch of archives to Senegalese President Macky Sall. He claimed – falsely, as it later turned out – that these represented all the documents France possessed on the massacre.

These archives were not available for analysis in Senegal until an executive order was issued by President Bassirou Diomaye Faye in 2024. The reason for the decade-long blockade was never adequately explained.

In 2024, President Emmanuel Macron went further than his predecessor by officially recognising events at Thiaroye as “a massacre”. A word his predecessor had avoided. Macron made this statement in a letter to Faye.

What new information does the report provide?

The main new element presented in the white paper is the initial outcome of archaeological excavations of the burial site, carried out by a team from Dakar’s Cheikh Anta Diop University. They have so far uncovered the remains of seven individuals.

All indications are that these men were victims of the massacre. Investigators highlighted the rushed and irregular nature of the graves and the burials, with bodies still dressed in military uniforms.

A black and white photo of African men in trenchcoats standing in a line with a European man in the foreground. — Senegalese Tirailleurs, 1940.
RaBoe/Wikimedia Commons, CC BY-SA

French administrative records had offered no answers about where or how the victims were laid to rest. This left the question of potential mass graves unresolved and shrouded in uncertainty.

These new findings from the report verify that victims were buried at this site. They also challenge official French narratives. The investigation continues. The archaeological team plans to expand their search, believing that more remains may lie hidden across the site.

What momentum led to the search at the grave site?

The issue of excavations of this site has a longer history. In 2017, several pan-African organisations urged Senegalese authorities to carry out such searches at Thiaroye. Among them was the party of Ousmane Sonko, today prime minister of Senegal but then a member of parliament.

Ten years earlier, during the construction of a highway crossing part of the military camp, historian Cheikh Faty Faye had already raised the issue publicly. Faye, who died in 2021, had worked on Thiaroye since the 1970s. He was part of a tradition of activist-scholars connected to pan-Africanist movements.

Through decades of commemoration and organising, these groups transformed the cemetery into a site of collective memory.

The cemetery holds 202 graves, roughly 30 of which stand apart from the others. To my knowledge, no scientific work has traced its origins, but it likely dates back to the first world war, when the Thiaroye camp was built.

It’s located about 1km from the camp’s main entrance. It served as the burial ground for west African riflemen from Senegal and numerous other French colonial territories who died during training. Their remains were never repatriated.

If future research confirms that the recently discovered bodies belong to the men killed on 1 December, it would be an important step towards clarifying the death toll.

What else is important in this report?

While the white paper dedicates considerable attention to the death toll, it also signals an interest in recovering the individual life stories of the Thiaroye riflemen.

Yet in my view, a crucial question remains unaddressed: the distinctly colonial character of the violence itself.

This is a form of violence inherent to the colonial context, marked by racialisation, a sense of impunity, and the distance between the colony and mainland France.

The challenge today is no longer just to document what happened at Thiaroye. It is ensure that this history is passed on to future generations. Integrating it into school curricula – anchored in rigorous scholarly work – shows how understanding the past illuminates the present and helps build a collective memory on solid foundations.

Martin Mourre does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.

– ref. Thiaroye massacre: report on the French killing of Senegalese troops in 1944 exposes a painful history – https://theconversation.com/thiaroye-massacre-report-on-the-french-killing-of-senegalese-troops-in-1944-exposes-a-painful-history-271035

December 9, 2025

Fossil science owes a debt to indigenous knowledge: Lesotho missionary’s notes tell the story

Source: The Conversation – Africa (2) – By Julien Benoit, Associate professor in Vertebrate Palaeontology, University of the Witwatersrand

Dinosaur footprints at Morija, Lesotho, in 1906. The person standing in front of the rock slab covered with tridactyl fossil footprints is not identified. Photos courtesy of the Institut des Sciences de l’Evolution of the University of Montpellier, France , CC BY-NC-SA

For over a century, the scientific literature has credited western missionaries with “discovering” fossils in Lesotho, the small, mountainous country surrounded by South Africa.

The narrative typically begins with figures like the French missionary Hermann Dieterlen, who, in 1885, reported unusual “petrified bird tracks” near the settlement of Morija. This account implies that earth sciences like the study of rocks and fossils arrived in Lesotho from Europe.

In contrast, our research supports the notion that the local people recognised, interpreted and explained these fossils before missionaries arrived. Our research focus is on the dinosaur bones and tracks of Lesotho, its geomythology (cultural explanations of geological phenomena), and indigenous palaeontology.

Our recent study revisits the private archives of French missionary and self-taught palaeontologist Paul Ellenberger (1919–2016). He lived in Lesotho from 1953 to 1970 as part of a three-generation missionary family. During this period, he documented various fossils and published his findings in scientific literature. After returning to France, he earned a PhD in palaeontology in the mid-1970s. His contributions laid the foundation for the study of animal fossil tracks and traces in southern Africa.

His notes reveal that the Basotho and San people in Lesotho not only noticed fossils but also integrated them into their culture as geomyths.

This matters beyond Lesotho. Scientific history has often portrayed African indigenous communities as passive background figures. Fossils were deemed “discovered” only when Europeans documented them, despite what local people already knew.

Revisiting Ellenberger’s archives corrects this imbalance. His notes support that indigenous knowledge informed scientific discovery. As some sciences grapple with their colonial legacies, narratives like this offer a path forward.

Fossils in Lesotho

Lesotho is part of the southern African main Karoo Basin, one of the world’s richest continental fossil archives. It is a record of several major evolutionary and environmental transitions. This includes the rise of dinosaurs after the end-Permian mass extinction some 252 million years ago.

Both body fossils and trace fossils have been found in Lesotho and its surroundings. Erosion of fossil-rich rocks exposes numerous dinosaur, amphibian and reptile trackways, fish trails and burrows, alongside full or partial skeletons and plant remains. Thus, fossils are part of Lesotho’s rugged landscape.

For the Basotho, giant bones eroding from the hills are not mere curiosities; they are referred to the Kholumolumo. This was an enormous, all-devouring mythical creature whose thunderous footsteps echoed across the landscape, leaving footprints behind.

This folktale aligns closely with the fossil record: skeletons and trackways, mostly of dinosaurs, which are prevalent in the sky-high exposures of the Maloti (or the Drakensberg, as the mountain range is known in South Africa).

The Kholumolumo myth serves as a cultural framework that preserves real observations of Lesotho’s fossil heritage over time. It’s an example of early citizen science – local people identifying recurring patterns in their environment and explaining them within their own cultural framework.

Ellenberger’s original archival materials reveal that this local knowledge was highly practical. When French palaeontologists arrived in 1955, they were guided to Maphutseng – now known for one of southern Africa’s richest dinosaur bone beds – by Samuel Motsoane. He was a local schoolteacher who had known the “stone bones” since childhood, in the 1930s.

The San and the fossil footprints

The Basotho and San were among the first in southern Africa to examine giant footprints preserved in stone and ponder: what walked here?

The indigenous San people, who followed a hunter-gatherer way of life before their culture disappeared from Lesotho, were masters in the interpretation of tracks. They could identify the size, behaviour and movement of living animals from a single footprint. Ellenberger believed they applied these skills to fossil tracks as well.

His manuscripts describe rock art at Mokhali Cave that appears to depict a dinosaur footprint alongside bipedal creatures reminiscent of the three-toed dinosaur fossils preserved in nearby outcrops.

Ellenberger also noted that some San myths seemed to differentiate between the tracks of four-legged animals in the lowlands and those of two-legged animals higher in the mountains.

In southern Africa, fossil tracks of bipedal dinosaurs are found in higher rock layers only, where the rocks are younger. Lower rocks contain only quadrupedal trackways made by more primitive animals.

So the myths appear to demonstrate some level of understanding of the evolution of species.

Although this seems more speculative, his core observation remains valid: the San recognised patterns in the fossil record and integrated them into their worldview. They observed their land with precision long before formal palaeontology developed in the area.

Rethinking the narrative of ‘discoveries’

The diaries show that locals guided researchers to fossil sites. They recognised fossil bones and tracks as evidence of ancient animals, and preserved this understanding through stories that served as explanations.

Ellenberger himself valued this intellectual tradition: he spoke Sesotho fluently, collaborated with locals, and documented their insights respectfully. His notes credit half a dozen Basotho who discovered fossils of important scientific value.

His notes show that the roots of awareness and interpretation of fossils in southern Africa predate European expeditions and reach into the deep sense of place held by the people living among these fossils since generations. Their interpretations were not “quaint myths” but sophisticated observations shaped by centuries of engagement with the land.

Acknowledging this enriches the scientific record, broadens our understanding of early palaeontology, and honours the contributions of communities whose insights led to important discoveries. Ellenberger has left us an empowering and inspiring legacy for the new generation of southern African palaeontologists.

Julien Benoit receives funding from DSTI-NRF GENUS (Centre of Excellence in Palaeosciences) and African Origins Platform.

Emese M Bordy receives funding from DSTI-NRF GENUS (Centre of Excellence in Palaeosciences). www.genus.africa

Charles Helm does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.

– ref. Fossil science owes a debt to indigenous knowledge: Lesotho missionary’s notes tell the story – https://theconversation.com/fossil-science-owes-a-debt-to-indigenous-knowledge-lesotho-missionarys-notes-tell-the-story-270431

December 9, 2025

Guinea-Bissau coup: election uncertainty has triggered military takeovers before

Source: The Conversation – Africa (2) – By Salah Ben Hammou, Postdoctoral Research Associate, Rice University

Guinea-Bissau has had nine attempted coups and five successful ones since its independence in September 1973. Salah Ben Hammou, a researcher with a focus on the politics of military coups, explains that the coup on 26 November 2025 appears to have followed earlier patterns of military intervention. It undermines Guinea-Bissau’s already fragile efforts to stabilise democratic governance.

How does the latest coup fit into Guinea-Bissau’s history of military takeovers?

This latest episode fits into a pattern of electoral coups that the country has experienced in the last two decades. In 2003 and 2012 the armed forces intervened at moments of electoral uncertainty.

The 26 November coup followed the same logic. It came just one day before the electoral commission was due to release the results of the 23 November presidential election, a contest already mired in controversy. Major opposition parties had been barred from running and President Umaro Sissoco Embaló faced accusations of overstaying his mandate. Both candidates claimed victory before any official results were announced.

Given this backdrop, the coup’s timing strongly suggests that the intervention was intended to preempt or nullify one potential outcome: the victory of opposition candidate Fernando Dias da Costa.

Many observers suspect that Embaló may have helped instigate or tacitly approved the military’s move to prevent an opposition victory.

There is still no definitive evidence of Embaló’s role. But incumbents have, in some cases, instigated coups against their own governments to void unfavourable election outcomes or preempt mass unrest. Sudan’s 1958 coup and Bolivia’s 1951 episode are classic examples.

What are the implications of the coup?

The coup undermines Guinea-Bissau’s already fragile efforts to stabilise democratic governance in two key ways.

First, it entrenches the military as the ultimate arbiter of political power, privileging the barracks over the ballot box. Once the armed forces are viewed – by incumbents, opposition forces, or the public – as a legitimate referee in political disputes, incentives shift. Instead of resolving conflicts through elections or courts, political competitors are more likely to seek military intervention when outcomes appear uncertain or unfavourable. This dynamic has long plagued Guinea-Bissau, and the latest coup reinforces it.

Second, and closely related, by effectively vetoing a core democratic process, the coup deepens the institutional backsliding already underway. In the months leading up to the vote, Guinea-Bissau had seen the exclusion of major opposition parties, disputes over term limits, and allegations of presidential overreach. The military’s intervention now entrenches these anti-democratic practices.

Whether or not Embaló played a direct role, the signal is clear: electoral rules and constitutional procedures can be overridden by force when they are inconvenient. The new junta’s reliance on Embaló’s allies to staff the new government further suggests continuity, not rupture, from the previous administration.

Economically, the coup is unlikely to benefit the general population. Nearly 70% live below the poverty line, making it one of the poorest countries in the world. Instability deters foreign investment, disrupts trade and stalls development projects. Even recent gains in the cashew industry, around 5.1% this year, risk being undermined.

What are the regional implications of the coup?

For anyone following developments in west Africa, and the continent more broadly, over the last five years, Guinea-Bissau’s latest coup will come as no great surprise. It joins a growing roster of countries under military rule. Each successful takeover in this so-called coup wave sends a clear signal: such interventions are possible and, in some contexts, tolerated.

Yet the broader impact will hinge on the junta’s next moves. It is not just the initial seizure of power that matters. Jonathan Powell and I have highlighted a pattern in which military rulers now remain in power for long periods compared with coups in the early 2000s. Transitional timelines, like the one-year promise announced by Guinea-Bissau’s junta, are increasingly symbolic rather than binding.

As I noted earlier this year in Foreign Policy, efforts to consolidate power, from delaying elections to manipulating them, also embolden other junta leaders across the region.

Guinea-Bissau’s military leaders are likely to study the strategies of their counterparts in west Africa and adopt them. In turn, the tactics they employ will provide a template for others. This type of learning is what will continue to solidify the return to military rule.

What should Ecowas and the African Union do?

Coups are rarely isolated events; they are usually symptoms of deeper political challenges. In Guinea-Bissau, the environment leading up to the coup, marked by Embaló’s efforts to undermine the electoral process, largely went unchecked. That created conditions that made military intervention more likely.

Regional organisations like Ecowas also face real constraints in addressing these challenges. Embaló threatened to expel Ecowas mediators attempting to negotiate a resolution to the electoral timeline. The same constraints are usually present after coups take hold.

That said, Ecowas and the African Union cannot afford to look away from post-coup developments. Every step the junta takes, whether shaping electoral timelines or managing opposition activity, must be scrutinised.

Both organisations should coordinate a unified diplomatic approach alongside other regional actors to secure clear, credible commitments to free and fair elections. Any attempts to delay the transition, manipulate political competition, or suppress dissent must be met with swift and meaningful consequences.

A key component of this strategy should be a ban on electoral participation for anyone involved in the coup. Existing mechanisms already allow for such measures, but their effectiveness depends on consistent application. Regional organisations have yet to do that.

Without such consistency, coups carry minimal consequences. And those who orchestrate them continue to profit from their actions.

Salah Ben Hammou does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.

– ref. Guinea-Bissau coup: election uncertainty has triggered military takeovers before – https://theconversation.com/guinea-bissau-coup-election-uncertainty-has-triggered-military-takeovers-before-271368

December 9, 2025

Benin’s failed coup: three factors behind the takeover attempt

Source: The Conversation – Africa (2) – By John Joseph Chin, Assistant Teaching Professor of Strategy and Technology, Carnegie Mellon University

Military elements attempted to topple Benin’s government in early December 2025. However, unlike other coups across the Sahel and west Africa since 2020, this bid triggered a military response from Benin’s neighbours.

Benin is a west African state of 14.8 million people bordered by Togo, Burkina Faso, Niger and Nigeria.

Responding to two requests for assistance from the government of President Patrice Talon, Nigeria deployed fighter jets and the Economic Community of West African States (Ecowas) deployed elements of its standby force to target and dislodge the pro-coup forces.

Ecowas intervention likely played an important role in undermining the coup’s momentum and restoring order. The dozen or so putschists scored early tactical successes. They captured and broadcast from the national television station, occupied a military camp, and even took the two senior-most army officers hostage. But once Ecowas intervened militarily, any fence-sitters concluded that loyalists would prevail. Rather than a broad-based uprising, only 14 were arrested with a few plotters still at large.

I’m a scholar who maintains the Colpus dataset of coups and I have documented the history of post-second world war coups. As part of this work, I have sought to document the complex causes and effects of Africa’s post-2020 “epidemic of coups”, now entering its fifth year.

Though details remain scant on the motives of the coup plotters led by Lt. Col. Pascal Tigri, three structural factors likely contributed to the latest coup attempt:

growing autocracy under Talon since 2016
rising jihadist violence in Benin’s north that is spilling over from Sahel neighbours
deepening coup contagion as Africa’s coup belt now threatens the west African region.

From democratic backsliding to democratic u-turn?

Benin does not have a history of recent coups. It had not suffered a bona fide coup attempt since January 1975.

In the first 15 years after independence from France in 1960, Dahomey (as the country was then called) experienced nine coup attempts, making it one of the most coup-prone countries in sub-Saharan Africa during the early Cold War period.

However, political instability through the early 1970s gave way to the stable and durable personalist regime of Mathieu Kérékou (1972-1990). This was followed by electoral democracy after the Cold War.

Until recently, Benin had been heralded as one of Africa’s “democratic outliers” and success cases of democratic survival despite challenging conditions. Though poor, Benin has seen decades of improving average living standards. Economic growth in 2025 was 7.5%; the latest unrest cannot be blamed on poverty or an economic crisis.

However, data on three key dimensions of democracy shows that although electoral contestation and participation have endured, constraints on the executive (and thus liberal democracy overall) have declined in Benin since Talon’s election as president in 2016.

According to autocratic regime data from US political scientists Barbara Geddes, Joe Wright and Erica Frantz as well as the Varieties of Democracy (V-Dem) project (which surveys experts about democracy worldwide), Benin slipped back into an electoral autocracy in 2019. That is when opposition candidates were prevented from competing in parliamentary elections. The polls were marred by repression of mass protests and an internet shutdown.

In 2021, an electoral boycott led to Talon’s easy re-election.

V-Dem data show a very partial and incomplete democratic rebound since 2022. The opposition was allowed to compete in the January 2023 parliamentary elections. And earlier this year Talon confirmed that he would not seek an unconstitutional third term.

The potential for a coup, however, was foreshadowed last fall when the regime alleged that it had uncovered a coup plot involving a presidential hopeful in 2026. Last month, parliament’s vote to create a Senate was condemned by the opposition as allowing Talon a means to influence affairs after he steps down.

With the main opposition party barred from running in next year’s presidential election, Talon is expected to hand off power to his ally and finance minister, Romuald Wadagni.

Though the political leanings of Tigri and coup plotters remain unclear, Tigri claimed to seek to “free the people from dictatorship”.

The coupmakers also presumably sought to block the upcoming 2026 parliamentary and presidential elections.

A growing jihadist threat

Among the coup leaders’ key complaints was Talon’s mismanagement of the country. In particular, they cited “continuing deterioration of the security situation in northern Benin and “the ignorance and neglect of the situation of our brothers in arms who have fallen at the front” due to worsening jihadist violence.

A number of coups in nearby countries since 2020 have been preceded by rising levels of political violence and deepening insecurity born of jihadist insurgencies. That was certainly the case in Mali, Burkina Faso and to a lesser extent Niger.

Since last year, it has been clear that the jihadist violence was spilling over from Sahel neighbours such as Burkina Faso and Niger into the borderlands of west Africa. This included Benin’s north. ACLED data show a major increase in political violence events since 2022. And a spike in political fatalities in 2024:

Much of this increased violence is attributable to the advance of operations by the al-Qaida affiliated group Jama’at Nusrat al-Islam wal-Muslimin (JNIM). The group also managed to launch its first fatal attack in Nigeria at the end of October.

Russia has become the primary security partner for the Sahel Alliance. The defence pact was signed in 2023 by post-coup juntas of Burkina Faso, Mali and Niger to defeat jihadists and maintain power.

Nevertheless, Benin has continued to rely on western security partners to aid its counter-insurgency efforts and bolster border security. Notably, Benin continues to welcome military cooperation with France. Since 2022 Paris has pledged greater military aid to combat terrorism.

In September, US Africa Command commander General Dagvin Anderson visited Benin to underscore cooperation to oppose terrorism.

During the coup attempt, Tigri reportedly warned against French intervention and railed against “imperialism”. The speech reportedly ended with the phrase “The Republic or Death”, which echoes the new motto of Burkina Faso’s junta.

This suggests that the coup makers may have been inspired by others in the Sahel.

Risk of the coup belt expanding

The Benin events mark the third coup attempt and first failed coup this year in the Sahel region. There have been 17 coup attempts in Africa since 2020, including 11 successful coups. This makes the African coup belt stretching across the Sahel and west Africa the global epicentre of coups.

West Africa’s latest “copycat” coup attempt was condemned by the African Union, European Union and Ecowas. Yet it was praised by pro-Russian social media accounts, reflecting a growing cleavage between the Russia-aligned juntas of the Sahel Alliance and the remaining Ecowas-aligned civilian regimes of west Africa.

Although Nigeria-led Ecowas threatened military intervention after the coup in Niger in July 2023, the regional body only actually militarily intervened to defeat the coup attempt in Benin. Nigeria, it appears, has drawn a line in the sand to retain a buffer from further instability – including JNIM operations. On the same day of the coup attempt in Benin, it was reported that Nigeria was seeking greater aid from France to combat insecurity.

John Joseph Chin does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.

– ref. Benin’s failed coup: three factors behind the takeover attempt – https://theconversation.com/benins-failed-coup-three-factors-behind-the-takeover-attempt-271540

December 8, 2025

South Africa and Pakistan: countries brought to their knees by elite capture and economic paralysis

Source: The Conversation – Africa – By Busani Ngcaweni, Director: Center for Public Policy and African Studies & Visiting Professor, China Foreign Affairs University, University of Johannesburg

In the ongoing quest to understand South Africa’s political and economic stagnation, it may be helpful to look at other postcolonial states that have travelled further along the path of independence. This may help clarify the stagnation question that citizens, politicians and economists are grappling with.

Much of the analysis of postcolonial Africa and Asia has identified poor leadership, authoritarianism and misguided economic policies as determinants of stagnation. These factors do matter. But they do not fully explain why some new independent states collapsed into dysfunction while others achieved growth. The deeper question is how institutions are built, sustained or destroyed.

South Africa’s stagnation is not the complete absence of growth or democracy, but the inability to convert political freedom and economic potential into sustainable and inclusive growth manifesting in quality of life for the majority.

The World Bank calls this an incomplete transition. In its 30 years of democracy review report, the South African Presidency concluded that the economy was performing below its full potential, unemployment was high, poverty levels were persistent in pockets of broader society and inequality levels were stubbornly high and racially biased.

As we read in the World Bank’s Africa’s Pulse report, these challenges continue to trouble most of the countries on the continent.

I have encountered this in my economic governance capacity building work in government and through my affiliations with local and Asian universities. There is common concern about deteriorating statecraft and the weakening of institutions.

In that connection, this essay is framed as a comparative reflection. It situates Pakistan alongside Ghana, Malaysia and Singapore, then turns to former Pakistani civil servant and now academic Ishrat Husain’s book, Governing the Ungovernable. It is a detailed case study of institutional decline.

A former governor of the central bank of Pakistan and long-time government advisor on public sector reform, Husain offers an authoritative framework against which we can understand the performance of other post-colonial states. I use this framework to mirror South Africa, showing how elite capture, institutional weakness and cycles of reversal explain its present stagnation.

I chose Pakistan because its story of “ungovernable” institutions is similar to that of South Africa, compared to Singapore, whose success story is determined by the performance of its institutions.

Ungovernabilty in Pakistan

Husain identified ungovernability as a key determinant of Pakistan’s stagnation. By ungovernability he does not mean complete disorder (although there is too much political instability in Pakistan). He uses the term to describe a state where institutions exist but fail.

Pakistan, he writes, developed

a well entrenched system in which political, bureaucratic, business and professional elites collaborate in extracting rents at the expense of the larger society (p. 41).

Every major crisis could be traced back to this governance deficit (p. 43). Need we add, in many post-colonial states in Africa and Asia, institutions are either still being formed or they do not exist.

Institutions that should deliver services instead serve rent-seeking. Tax authorities, utilities and the police used their discretion for private gain (pp. 70–72). Elites blocked reforms because they benefited from dysfunction. Even when reforms began, they were quickly undone.

Ungovernable thus means institutions exist in name but not in substance.

Husain identifies coalitions that benefit from weakness and resist reform.

Political dynasties dominate parties without internal democracy, using legislatures as platforms for patronage (p. 134).
The military intervened in 1958, 1977 and 1999, stunting civilian institutions (pp. 140–144).
Bureaucrats exploited their powers for rent extraction (p. 155).
Business and landed elites resisted taxation and defended subsidies (pp. 160–165).
Law enforcement was crippled by bribery and political appointments:

Law and order is bound to suffer when police officials are appointed… rather than professional competence. (p. 172).

Together, these groups made Pakistan ungovernable in practice.

Husain points to several interlocking causes: the vacuum after the death of Mohammed Ali Jinnah, Pakistan’s first governor-general (1947–48) (pp. 22–24), repeated military dominance (pp. 140–144), weak dynastic parties (p. 134), corruption across key sectors (pp. 70–80), cycles of reform and reversal (pp. 112–115), entrenched patronage networks (pp. 180–182), and a systemic governance deficit undermining taxation, energy, law and service delivery (pp. 200–210).

South Africa reflects these same patterns

South Africa’s political and economic stagnation can be defined as a prolonged period in which the state struggles to generate growth, reduce inequality and renew governance capacity, despite the presence of democratic institutions and economic potential. This challenges the theory of South African exceptionalism, as we witness the same trend of political and economic elites whose decisions result in the capture of institutions and the destruction of public value.

In South Africa, the role of economic and political elites is central to understanding institutional fragility. The Zondo Commission of Inquiry into State Capture (2018–2022) revealed how networks of political leaders, senior bureaucrats and business elites colluded to systematically weaken public institutions for private gain.

State-owned enterprises such as Eskom, Transnet and South African Airways were targeted through corrupt procurement, inflated contracts and political patronage, undermining their ability to deliver services and support economic development. The commission showed that elite capture distorted the functioning of key accountability institutions including the National Prosecuting Authority and law enforcement agencies, which were compromised to shield powerful individuals from scrutiny.

These practices eroded public trust, drained fiscal resources and entrenched political stagnation. Testimonies from the ongoing commission led by retired judge Mbuyiseli Madlanga are echoing stories told at the Zondo Commission, and now, like in Pakistan, showing the “ungovernability” of the criminal justice system.

Like in Pakistan, the police and the National Prosecuting Authority are politicised and weakened. The army, once a regional force, has declined under shrinking budgets and skills shortages. Immigration is compromised by incoherent policy, corruption at the Home Affairs department and porous borders. Local government is the weakest link, condemned by poor leadership, incompetence and failing services.

Therefore, in the South African case, ungovernability or institutional weakness cannot be explained solely by colonial legacies or structural constraints, although they do matter because the apartheid regime was corrupt. Ungovernability has been actively produced and perpetuated by elites who hollowed out institutions designed to safeguard democracy and development. They became machines of rent-seeking instead of agents of national development. They subverted the will of the people for the will of the elites who undermine accountability.

As in Pakistan, the institutions exist but fail. They are captured by elites. Reforms begin but rarely last. Why?

The comparison is instructive. Ghana fell into coups. Malaysia survived but with uneven governance. Pakistan allowed patronage to corrode its foundations. South Africa shows the same symptoms: revenue shortfalls, energy collapse, transport paralysis, policing failures, weakened defence, porous borders and failing municipalities.

Singapore deliberately built strong institutions and prospered.

Some answers

Husain warns against “sweeping reforms that collapse at each election cycle” (p. 245). Instead, he calls for “selective, sequenced and incremental reforms that enjoy broad consensus” (p. 246). The implication for South Africa is clear.

Political settlements must be reset so that institutions serve citizens rather than factions. Core institutions must be restored: courts, revenue authorities, utilities, police and prosecutors. Coalitions must be built around national goals of security, growth and fairness (p. 252).

Comparative lessons are instructive. Singapore shows the rewards of disciplined governance, while Malaysia illustrates the limits of partial reform. Above all, renewal will take decades, as decay did (p. 260).

From Pakistan’s partition in 1947 to Ghana’s independence in 1957, from the separation of Malaysia and Singapore in 1965 to South Africa’s democratic transition in 1994, post-colonial states have combined early promise with the test of institution-building. Some passed, others faltered.

Husain’s book shows that ungovernability is not chaos but the hollowing out of institutions until they exist only on paper. South Africa mirrors this reality.

The case of Pakistan also defies the idea that cultural or religious homogeneity guarantees cohesion and growth. Despite greater uniformity than many of its neighbours, Pakistan has struggled to sustain unity and development. Cohesion and growth, as Husain’s analysis confirms, are not products of identity but of politics. They depend on the presence of a developmental elite able to mobilise all productive forces in society, on effective institutions that secure delivery and accountability, and on coalitions that bring legitimacy to the national project while managing contradictions. Without these, even homogeneous nations fragment.

For South Africa, the lesson is clear. The future will not be saved by appeals to “organisational renewal” that leading political parties speak about, cultural unity or new slogans about reforms. It will be built through the deliberate reconstruction of institutions, the cultivation of developmental leadership and the forging of coalitions that sustain legitimacy across political cycles. And it requires stronger instruments of accountability and consequence management.

Only through such long and patient work can the country move from being ungovernable in practice to governable in fact.

Ngcaweni is affiliated with the South African Association of Public Administration and Management (SAAPAM), Faculty Expert at Singapore’s Chandler Governance Institute. He is Distinguished Fellow of the National School of Government of SA and Research Associate at the University of the Chinese Academy of Social Sciences where he reads and writes about the National and Regional Economic Development/Governance Models.

– ref. South Africa and Pakistan: countries brought to their knees by elite capture and economic paralysis – https://theconversation.com/south-africa-and-pakistan-countries-brought-to-their-knees-by-elite-capture-and-economic-paralysis-265427

December 8, 2025

Terror threat in Nigeria: what the killing of a general tells us about the fight against ISWAP

Source: The Conversation – Africa (2) – By Saheed Babajide Owonikoko, Researcher, Centre for Peace and Security Studies, Modibbo Adama University of Technology

The killing of Nigeria’s Brigadier General Musa Uba, in mid-November 2025, by the Islamic State West Africa Province, ISWAP, risks boosting the morale of insurgents while demoralising Nigerian troops fighting insurgency.

The rank of brigadier general is one of the highest in the military. A brigadier general typically commands a brigade, which consists of approximately 4,000 troops. Uba was the commander of the 25 Task Force Brigade in Damboa local government area of Borno State.

The death of an officer of this rank isn’t unprecedented. But it is rare. Brigadier General Zirkushu Dzarma was killed in November 2021 with four other soldiers when ISWAP rammed a bomb-laden car into his official vehicle.

Uba’s case differs, however. He was captured – and then killed – during active engagement with the insurgents.

The circumstances around his capture and killing provide insights into two aspects of Nigeria’s security challenges. The first is that it tells us a great deal about technological adaptability of ISWAP. The second is that it highlights the weaknesses in Nigeria’s counter-terrorism efforts.

I am a scholar researching terrorism and counter-terrorism in the Lake Chad region and I have been studying ISWAP’s terror activities and Lake Chad countries’ response.

Based on this work I would argue that the capture and killing of Brigadier General Musa Uba shows two things. First, it points to ISWAP’s increased capability in rapid intelligence, surveillance and reconnaissance. Secondly, it underscores poor coordination between Nigeria’s military authority and counter-terrorism units, as well as poor technological improvements despite increased defence spending.

Accounts of what happened

According to media reports, Brigadier General Uba led his troops, along with members of the Civilian Joint Task Force, on a routine patrol in the ISWAP-dominated area of Damboa on 14 November 2025. They encountered an ambush by ISWAP around Wajiroko village. Two soldiers and two civilian task force members were killed.

The brigadier general managed to leave the point of attack but became separated from the forces and found himself alone in ISWAP territory.

He began coordinating his rescue using WhatsApp on his personal phone. As his WhatsApp messages published in the local media revealed, he had agreed with the rescue team on what to do and how to proceed. A helicopter was reportedly deployed to locate and rescue him, but he could not be found.

Three days later, ISWAP said it had captured and killed him. In its media outlet, Amaq, it claimed that as soon as it had received intelligence about the brigadier general, it deployed a group of fighters to search for him.

A key question this raises is: how did ISWAP determine Uba’s location while the army rescue team couldn’t?

I think that technology might have aided ISWAP in quickly detecting his hideout. This is based on evidence that shows ISWAP’s growing use of technology to enhance its activities in recent years. For example, it’s now using drones for intelligence, surveillance, reconnaissance and attacks. In 2022 it released video of military camps and vehicles it filmed using drones to spy on the Nigerian army and the Multinational Joint Task Force in Wajiroko.

How the military responded

News broke in the local media in the early hours of 16 November that the brigadier general leading the ambushed troop was missing. This suggested that ISWAP might have kidnapped him.

The military leadership in Abuja rebutted the news, explaining that the troops were able to fight back and force the terrorists to withdraw. They also debunked the news of the abduction of the brigadier general by ISWAP, saying he successfully led troops back to base.

ISWAP said it had captured him on the morning of 15 November. The Nigerian Army leadership released their rebuttal around 1pm the same day.

Either the military leaders were deliberately covering the truth, or they were not in close and reliable contact with their counter-terrorism units.

This raises questions about communication between the military authority and various units which leads to the issue of the battlefield communication between troops and military authority.

In contemporary warfare and counter-terrorism, troops ought to wear a Global Positioning System (GPS) device attached to their uniforms or equipment.

GPS is one component of the broader positioning, navigation and timing system, which constantly transmits the locations of troops. If something goes wrong, commanders or rescue teams can quickly see exactly where they are without waiting for calls or searching blindly.

This appears not to have been the case.

Between the evening of 14 November, when the troops were ambushed, and early in the morning of 15 November, when the brigadier general was captured, Nigerian military leadership could not evacuate him from the dangerous location despite the short distance of 88km between Maiduguri, the headquarters of Operation Hadin Kai, and Damboa.

The most likely explanation for this is that it didn’t have the necessary intelligence to do so.

This raises the question of whether Nigeria’s military has been investing enough in its technological capabilities. The country invests heavily in the military. In the 2025 budget, 6.57 trillion naira (US$4.5 billion) – about 12.45% of the total budget – was approved for security and defence. The question is whether this money is being spent in ways that equip the military to fight ever-more sophisticed insurgency groups.

With the gradual shift in terrorism and counter-terrorism towards a technology war, the Nigerian military authority must understand that investing in technological capabilities, including tracking technology, is not a luxury. It is a necessity.

Saheed Babajide Owonikoko does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.

– ref. Terror threat in Nigeria: what the killing of a general tells us about the fight against ISWAP – https://theconversation.com/terror-threat-in-nigeria-what-the-killing-of-a-general-tells-us-about-the-fight-against-iswap-270644

December 8, 2025

Africa’s power grabs are rising – the AU’s mixed response is making things worse

Source: The Conversation – Africa (2) – By Richard Fosu, Lecturer in International Relations, Monash University

Hardly a month goes by without news of another unconstitutional change of government on the African continent.

These can take one of three forms.

The first is a military coup d’état or violent change of (democratically) elected government. The second is the refusal of an incumbent government to relinquish power after losing an election. And finally, manipulating constitutions to win or extend term limits of an incumbent government.

We study peace and conflict in Africa, as well as African Union law. We set out these three categories in a paper we published in 2023. In it we analysed unconstitutional changes of government in Africa between 2001 and 2022.

We found that there had been 20 coup d’états, six instances of constitutional manipulation and four attempts by incumbents to hang onto power after losing elections.

These patterns have persisted since the publication of our study. The most recent was the military takeover in Guinea-Bissau in late November 2025.

With the persistence of unconstitutional changes of government, particularly what has been described as a coup resurgence in Africa, we analysed the African Union’s stance on these three forms of regime change.

The African Charter on Democracy, Elections and Good Governance of 2007 prohibits unconstitutional changes of government. It prescribes sanctions to restore constitutional order when they occur.

We found that for the majority of coup d’états (17 out of 20 in our dataset), the AU was strict in enforcing the sanctions prescribed by the charter to restore constitutional order. However, its response to incumbents’ attempts to hang onto power after losing elections and constitutional manipulations to extend term limits has been mixed at best.

These findings led us to look at how the AU can strengthen continental democratic mechanisms to prevent the so-called African coup belt from widening further.

We conclude from our findings that the AU needs to do two things.

Firstly, avoid unconstitutional changes of government. The way to do it is to:

foster a true democratic culture in African states
set clear rules on matters such as constitutional changes that are often manipulated by incumbents to stay in power
enforce these rules without fear or favour.

Secondly, the AU, the Economic Community of West African States (Ecowas) and other regional bodies must apply firm sanctions to civilian leaders who manipulate the law to stay in power, just as they do to military coup makers.

A history of coups

The euphoria that swept across Africa following independence from European colonial rule in the late 1950s and 1960s was short-lived.

Many African countries plunged into decades of political instability, socioeconomic crises and civil wars. One of the major factors that drove this period was the lack of strong systems of democratic participation and peaceful transfers of power.

With no meaningful space for inclusive political participation and peaceful transitions, military coups and countercoups, rebel movements and other violent means of ascending power became the norm.

Between 1956 and 2001, there were 80 successful coup d’états, 108 failed coup attempts and 139 coup plots in sub-Saharan Africa.

In 2000, African leaders decided at a summit in Togo to adopt the Lomé Declaration. This condemned coup d’états and other unconstitutional changes of government. It was the first continental instrument to lay out a framework for a collective African response to unconstitutional changes of government.

This was followed by the 2007 African charter on democracy and the Malabo Protocol on an African criminal court in 2014.

These three instruments provide for various sanctions targeted at African states and individuals complicit in breaching democratic principles.

Despite these, several African states have still recorded transitions of power that are unconstitutional. And the AU’s response has been mixed.

The AU’s mixed response

These are some of the examples we identified.

In 2010, the AU supported an international effort to remove Laurent Gbagbo after he refused to hand over power after losing elections in Côte d’Ivoire.

Yahya Jammeh’s refusal to step down from power after losing elections in 2016 in The Gambia was also met with a stern response from the AU. It said it “will not recognise” Jammeh. Ecowas considered “removing him using mililtary force” if he refused to hand over power peacefully.

But there have been some notable failures to take action.

For instance, Ali Bongo’s flawed electoral win in Gabon in 2016 did not attract concrete action from the AU. Nor was any action taken over the delayed elections in the Democratic Republic of Congo under Joseph Kabila in 2018.

The most glaring failure in building democratic principles in Africa has been the lack of sanctions from the AU when incumbents manipulate constitutions to extend term limits.

From Burundi to Côte d’Ivoire, through Togo to Zimbabwe, we found no evidence in our dataset where the AU has directly responded to instances of constitutional manipulations.

Yet, in recent history, constitutional manipulations have been the major precipitants of military interventions. Recent coups in Gabon, Guinea, Chad and Sudan were all preceded by constitutonal manipulation to extend or abolish term limits.

We found that when the democratic space shrinks and people feel they have no way to express dissent, the risk of popular uprisings increases. The military often seizes on these moments to intervene.

What needs to happen

The continental treaties on democracy and good governance require strict adherence to democratic principles and respect for the principles of democratic changes of government.

For them to be effective, the following steps need to be taken.

Firstly, democratic principles must be clearly defined. For instance, does amending a constitution to abolish presidential term limits to benefit an incumbent violate these principles? How about engineering the disqualification of opposition candidates through machinations like politically motivated prosecutions?

Secondly, clear rules must be established on matters like term limits.

Thirdly, the AU, Ecowas and other regional bodies must stop coddling pseudo-democrats whose conduct invites coups. They must stop supervising and endorsing sham elections that keep these leaders in power.

Finally, the AU can demonstrate its commitment to democracy and good governance by refusing to reward autocrats. This could mean not appointing autocrats to important bodies, such as the AU Peace and Security Council (which is charged with monitoring democracy and good governance on the continent), or awarding them chairmanship positions.

Dr Christopher Nyinevi, who works with the Ecowas Court of Justice in Abuja, Nigeria, is a co-author of this article.

Richard Fosu does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.

– ref. Africa’s power grabs are rising – the AU’s mixed response is making things worse – https://theconversation.com/africas-power-grabs-are-rising-the-aus-mixed-response-is-making-things-worse-271137

December 8, 2025

South Africa’s water, energy and food crisis: why fixing one means fixing them all

Source: The Conversation – Africa – By Thulani Ningi, Research associate, University of Fort Hare

South Africa faces serious water, energy and food problems. Drought, overuse and ageing infrastructure strain water supplies. Coal-fired electricity is not sustainable in the long term and causes high greenhouse gas emissions. Tens of millions of people can’t afford enough food because of rising prices. These crises are interconnected: water is needed to grow food and cool power plants; and energy is needed to pump and treat water and grow food. Problems in one area affect the others. Agricultural economists Thulani Ningi and Saul Ngarava and environmental law specialist Alois Mugadza were part of a team that researched uncoordinated funding and planning in food, water and energy. They explain what needs to change.

What are South Africa’s water, energy and food problems?

Water: Millions of South Africans still don’t have reliable access to clean water, proper toilets, or steady electricity.

The country has limited water sources, and has experienced changing climate (floods and drought).

Energy: The country suffered from regular power cuts between 2007 and 2024.

A big part of the problem is that South Africa still depends heavily on coal for energy. The transition to green energy is slow and largely depends on individuals, businesses and families to buy solar systems. However renewables are now cheaper in many parts of the country.

Food insecurity: High levels of hunger, with about one in four families going to bed hungry, show how the system isn’t working well. About 23% of children in South Africa live in severe food poverty.

How are food, energy and water funded now?

Apart from receiving government funding, these sectors are funded by institutions like the World Bank, European Investment Bank and African Development Bank, as well as local institutions such as the Public Investment Corporation and Land Bank.

Our research found that funding decisions about water, energy and food are usually made separately.

This makes it difficult to get funding for projects that could solve problems across all three areas at once. For example, using solar power to pump water for irrigating crops could help with energy, water and food needs all at the same time.

Our research found that one of the main funding problems is that the current financing model is highly centralised. Decisions are taken in national offices about local projects. Big institutions like the Public Investment Corporation and Land Bank dominate decision-making.

Communities are rarely consulted, even though they understand their own challenges in managing drought or securing food best. They’re also not chosen to lead projects.

In addition, international funding tends to go towards big infrastructure projects, rather than helping local communities get basic services like clean water and toilets.

Another problem is that local municipalities sometimes lack the technical capacity, skilled personnel and financial management systems to deliver effectively. For example, a national plan to roll out solar-powered water pumps in small towns might not happen if the municipalities lack the ability to procure the pumps or maintain them.

Many municipalities are also mired in corruption and mismanagement, which undermines their ability to act on plans or use funds appropriately.

The current financing model slows down progress, wastes resources, and fails to build the resilience needed for a just transition, away from coal and towards renewable energy.

How should water, energy and food projects be funded?

Water, energy and food should be funded through financing hubs. These could pool funding from different sectors and sources specifically to support integrated projects.

Development finance institutions should also use blended finance, which means combining public and private money, to fund climate-friendly infrastructure. In practice, this works by using government or donor funds to reduce the risk for private investors. This makes solar energy, water systems, or sustainable farming projects more attractive to private investors.

We also suggest that decentralised funding instruments be set up. These include:

Provincial green funds – locally managed public funds that support environmentally friendly projects, like renewable energy or sustainable farming, within a specific province.
Local water, energy and food financing trusts – these would fund projects that meet the needs of specific communities.
Water, energy and food communities – there should be localised funding mechanisms allowing communities to self-finance and self-govern their own initiatives. Communities could come together and decide on projects, and finance these themselves. But a proper framework needs to be in place to prevent abuse of finance going to these initiatives.
Community development finance institutions – locally rooted financial organisations that provide loans and support to underserved communities for projects like small businesses, housing and basic services.

Banks and government agencies should check how big projects affect all three – water, energy and food – before approving a project in one area. Departments should share information, work together on projects, and keep track of money openly. These steps make the system clearer, fairer and easier to understand.

What needs to happen to get there?

Finance institutions must change how they work. Development banks should require different government departments to set up teams that work across departments. This will ensure that food, water and energy projects are rolled out in a coordinated way.

Local communities should have a say in how money is used. This helps make sure funding matches both national plans and the needs of local people. Community-based organisations like stokvels, cooperatives and catchment partnerships should be explored and developed as alternative funding structures.

Finally, development finance institutions should prioritise pilot projects involving women, youth and smallholder farmers. These can highlight how local leadership drives sustainability and equity.

Thulani Ningi received funding for his PhD studies from the South African National Research Foundation. He is also currently employed as a Socio-Economics Manager at Conservation International, working on Behavioural Incentives for Land Transformation and Natural Grasslands research.

Saul Ngarava receives funding from Project Groundwater funded by the Lincolnshire County Council and Department for Environment, Food and Rural Affairs (DEFRA), through the Flood and Coastal Resilience Innovation Programme, which is managed by the Environment Agency, United Kingdom.

Alois Mugadza does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.

– ref. South Africa’s water, energy and food crisis: why fixing one means fixing them all – https://theconversation.com/south-africas-water-energy-and-food-crisis-why-fixing-one-means-fixing-them-all-267374