The current political landscape in Senegal transcends a mere disagreement between two individuals. It signifies a clash between two distinct forms of legitimacy: institutional authority and charismatic appeal. This inherent tension, throughout contemporary political history, frequently culminates in a phenomenon well-known in political theory: hubris.
From this perspective, Ousmane Sonko’s political journey warrants an objective and dispassionate examination. Sonko’s ascent was fueled by a revolutionary energy seldom witnessed in Senegal’s recent past. He channeled the grievances of a marginalized youth, challenged a political establishment perceived as entrenched, and introduced a new political discourse centered on sovereignty, dignity, and the re-empowerment of the populace as a central force.
Sonko had previously articulated a concept of “gentle cohabitation” with the presidential palace. His subsequent election as Speaker of the National Assembly, occurring just days after his dismissal as Prime Minister, presented an opportunity to implement this vision.
The swift political developments leading to his election were unprecedented. On May 22, President Bassirou Diomaye Faye relieved Ousmane Sonko of his duties as Prime Minister. The very next day, May 23, Malick Ndiaye, then President of the National Assembly, strategically resigned, vacating the Speaker’s position. By May 25, Ahmadou Alhaminou Mohamed Lô was appointed as the new Prime Minister. Finally, on May 26, Ousmane Sonko was overwhelmingly elected President of the National Assembly, signaling his continued leadership of Pastef, the majority party he founded. He secured 132 out of 165 parliamentary votes.
While some hailed this election as “historic,” others labeled it an “institutional coup d’état.” Regardless, it positions the former Prime Minister as the primary opposition figure to his erstwhile ally, President Bassirou Diomaye Faye, with whom he had recently formed a tumultuous diarchy.
Several critical questions now emerge. Will Pastef, which unanimously voted to elect Sonko as Assembly head, agree to support—or even join—the new government to be formed by the highly technocratic new Prime Minister? The presidential party has reportedly set conditions, including “fidelity to the program that led to the 2024 victory.” This implicitly refers to the program largely crafted by Ousmane Sonko.
Sonko, for his part, has sent mixed signals. While appearing to advocate for institutional appeasement, he also conveyed a clear message to his former presidential ally. The National Assembly, he cautioned, will exercise “its constitutional prerogatives fully.” He also expressed regret that Pastef was not consulted regarding the new Prime Minister’s appointment.
Amidst this institutional upheaval, the country’s sovereign rating has reportedly shifted from “stable” to “negative.”
This political force is undeniable and has profoundly reshaped the national landscape. However, every charismatic leadership inherently carries a contradiction: it mobilizes through a powerful individual embodiment, yet simultaneously risks weakening the impersonal mechanisms upon which institutional democracy rests.
Popular or constitutional legitimacy?
When activists begin to perceive one individual as the sole architect of a “revolution,” when the trajectory of a collective endeavor appears to hinge on a single figure, and when the line blurs between political loyalty and personal devotion, the peril of hubris emerges. This is not merely an individual pathology but a structural phenomenon. The current crisis appears to precisely expose this contradiction.
For months, Senegal navigated a peculiar political ambiguity: who truly held the reins of power? Was it the elected president, Bassirou Diomaye Faye, or the historical leader of the Pastef project, Ousmane Sonko, who founded the African Patriots of Senegal for Work, Ethics and Fraternity (Pastef), now in power? Was it the legitimacy of the ballot box or the legitimacy of militant activism? Constitutional authority or charismatic authority?
This duality was likely unsustainable in the long run. In any democracy, a point arrives when institutions demand their rightful primacy. A state cannot function indefinitely with two symbolic centers of command. Sonko’s influence extended beyond his role as Prime Minister; it resided primarily in his ability to simultaneously embody the head of government, movement leader, militant reference point, and emotional symbol for a significant segment of Senegalese youth.
This is precisely where the hubristic risk manifests: when a leader tends to occupy the domains of the state, the people, and the movement all at once. The paradox is that this situation does not necessarily threaten democracy through overt brutality. Instead, it can subtly undermine it by compelling institutions to recede before the symbolic weight of a political personality.
Political parties largely remain structured around central figures. The Parliament still struggles to assert itself as a truly autonomous counter-power. While institutions resist, they remain vulnerable to the emotional potency of prominent political figures.
“A test of truth”
Therefore, the fundamental question today is not moral; it is institutional. Can Ousmane Sonko accept that institutional legitimacy must now take precedence over charismatic legitimacy? Can he accept that the project he helped forge will gradually cease to be exclusively his own? Can he transition from being merely the driving force of a historic protest to an actor among others within an institutional order designed to endure beyond individual leaders?
This is arguably the most formidable challenge for all great leaders of political rupture. African political history abounds with movements that triumphed in opposition only to confront the more intricate demands of state governance. Governing necessitates different skills than mobilizing. It requires arbitration, concessions, institutional hierarchies, and sometimes even the acceptance of a degree of personal effacement for the sake of state continuity.
A leader’s greatness is not solely measured by their capacity to seize power. It is also measured by their willingness to accept the constraints imposed by institutional democracy. Senegal may now be entering this crucial test of truth.
The manner in which this tension is managed will determine not only the future of the Pastef project but also a significant portion of the country’s democratic stability.