Abdul Mohammed, Senior Advisor at Amani Africa and Former Senior UN Official and Chief of Staff of AU High-level Panel on Sudan

Multilateralism has never been an inspiring word. It is procedural, abstract, and emotionally thin. No one rallies under its banner, and no leader wins popularity by defending it. Yet for Africa, multilateralism has never been a luxury of orderly times or a matter of institutional aesthetics. It has been, repeatedly and painfully, a strategy of survival. When collective systems fracture or lose authority, Africa is not a marginal casualty of global disorder; it is among the first and hardest hit.

As the continent enters 2026, this reality confronts Africa’s institutions with unusual force. Across the continent—from Sudan and the eastern Democratic Republic of Congo to the Sahel—war is no longer episodic or exceptional. It is increasingly systemic, durable, and profitable. Violence has become a bargaining instrument, fragmentation a political asset, and mediation itself a competitive marketplace. In such conditions, the question confronting Africa’s leaders is no longer abstract: can the continent’s multilateral institutions still exercise authority, or have they become spectators to conflicts they were created to prevent?

This question bears directly on the current leadership of the African Union. There will be no new leadership arriving in 2026. The current leadership, elected in 2025, now confronts its first true test. The coming year will not be a grace period; it will be a reckoning. Africa’s conflicts are deepening, external pressures are intensifying, and the margin for procedural caution is narrowing. The credibility of the present leadership will be judged not by intentions or rhetoric, but by political judgment and action.

Africa enters 2026 institutionally fatigued, politically fragmented, and increasingly exposed to assertive external actors pursuing bilateral advantage at the expense of collective order. The global environment has become harsher: geopolitical rivalry has replaced cooperation, transactional diplomacy has displaced norms, and multilateral restraint is no longer assumed. In this context, the African Union cannot afford leadership that confuses restraint with responsibility or equates neutrality with wisdom.

The challenge before the current leadership is therefore stark. It is not a question of managing institutions, refining processes, or preserving consensus for its own sake. It is a question of whether those at the helm are prepared to exercise authority, take political risks, and defend continental principles when doing so is uncomfortable. Multilateralism, in dark times, is not about convening meetings; it is about drawing lines.

The year 2026 will thus be decisive. If the African Union continues to drift—speaking in careful language while conflicts harden and authority leaks outward—it will confirm a dangerous perception: that Africa’s premier multilateral institution is no longer capable of shaping outcomes. If, however, the current leadership rises to the moment, reasserts political purpose, and treats mediation as an exercise in consequence rather than ceremony, the African Union may yet recover its relevance. The test is immediate, and it cannot be deferred.

On paper, the African Union should be a formidable mediation actor. It possesses peace and security institutions, mediation capacities, and panels of eminent persons. Yet in practice, it has struggled to shape outcomes in the continent’s most consequential conflicts. The problem is not absence of tools, but erosion of authority. Mediation succeeds when norms are backed by leverage and when institutions are willing to impose political costs.

The Union’s recent record in Sudan, the Democratic Republic of Congo, and the Sahel underscores this pattern. In Sudan, early warning and legal authority existed, yet hesitation prevailed as war escalated. In eastern Congo, fragmented initiatives and militarized responses crowded out political solutions. In the Sahel, inconsistent enforcement of norms and reactive diplomacy allowed coups and counter-coups to consolidate. In each case, the vacuum created by African caution was filled by external actors pursuing their own interests.

Looking ahead, Africa’s conflicts increasingly resemble political marketplaces. Loyalty is purchased, fragmentation rewarded, and violence normalized as a negotiating tool. In such environments, moral persuasion alone is insufficient. Norms without leverage are priced out, and multilateralism that avoids imposing costs becomes performative.

The African Union’s comparative advantage is not financial or military. It lies in legitimacy: the ability to confer recognition, set benchmarks, and insist that peace, rights, and governance are inseparable. Reclaiming this role requires a renewal of Pan-Africanism as an intellectual and moral tradition—one that insists on sovereignty as responsibility, not exemption.

If the African Union is to remain relevant in 2026, it must reassert convening authority, enforce coordination, benchmark mediation participation, and place civic legitimacy at the center of peace processes. Above all, leadership must rediscover courage. Unity without principle is not unity; it is abdication.

Africa’s multilateral institutions were never designed to deliver perfection. They were designed to prevent catastrophe. Whether the African Union can rise to this challenge in 2026 will determine not only its own credibility, but Africa’s capacity to navigate an unforgiving world.

Abdul Mohammed, Former Senior UN Official and Chief of Staff of AU High-level Panel on Sudan

Solomon Ayele Dersso, PhD, Founding Director, Amani Africa

Africa is entering 2026 not at a moment of transition, but at a moment of reckoning. Across the continent, armed conflict, state fragmentation, humanitarian collapse, economic distress, climate shocks, democratic erosion, and geopolitical entanglement are converging with a simultaneity and intensity unseen in recent decades. What distinguishes this moment is not the presence of crisis per se, but the growing risk that instability is becoming structural rather than episodic—normalized rather than exceptional.

This reckoning is unfolding against the backdrop of a deepening global disorder. The international system itself is unraveling at alarming speed. Established norms, institutions, and rules are eroding, replaced by ad hoc power politics, coercive economic statecraft, and fierce geopolitical competition. This disorder is not stabilizing. It is accelerating—and its consequences are ominous, particularly for Africa and others in the global South as events on Christmas day in Nigeria and on 6 January in Venezuela illustrate.

Parts of the Global South are struggling, unevenly and imperfectly, to reposition themselves in response to this turbulence. The question for Africa is, as SRSG and Head of UN Office to the AU Parfait Onanga-Anyanga recently put it, will it position itself to negotiate collective interests amidst this prolific and plural competition, or will African countries get picked off one by one?

Africa, however, enters 2026 with no clear evidence of serious, collective, continent-wide strategic reflection on how to navigate the emerging global order. As captured in a recent Amani Africa policy brief, Africa’s engagement is characterized by fragmentation, operating on the basis of ‘a patchwork of’ individual, often competing foreign policies of African states. While individual states and sub-regions may be engaging externally, they are largely doing so through transactional, bilateral, and short-term calculations, rather than through a shared Pan-African vision or common strategic posture.

The result is deeply concerning. Fierce competition among middle powers and major powers in Africa is deliberately fragmenting the continent, integrating African states, sub-regions, and institutions—by default or by design—into rival spheres of influence, one by one. This process steadily undermines Africa’s capacity to articulate and defend common positions, erodes continental solidarity, and dismantles the very foundations of collective action. These conditions are compounded due to the absence of a collective policy for governing its relations with global actors.

As Nkrumah prophesied on the dire consequences of disunity, without collectivity, Africa will not be a shaper of the emerging global order. It will be relegated to a footnote—reacting, adapting, and absorbing the consequences of decisions made elsewhere. In such a scenario, Pan-Africanism itself becomes hollow, reduced to rhetoric rather than strategy, symbolism rather than power.

The Geography of Africa’s Polycrisis

From the Horn of Africa to the Sahel and the Great Lakes region, conflict has ceased to be contained within national borders or finite political disputes, as extensively documented in Amani Africa signature publications (here and here). Instead, it has become regionalized, protracted, and embedded within broader political and economic systems. These regions now function as interconnected theaters of instability—zones where internal fragmentation intersects with external intervention, and where war increasingly sustains itself.

Arms flows, armed groups, war economies, displaced populations, and political narratives move fluidly across borders. Violence migrates, mutates, and reproduces itself. Local wars acquire continental and global consequences, disrupting trade corridors, fueling forced migration, and drawing in ever more external actors.

From Contested Wars to Permanent War Systems

In its signature publication accompanying the African Union summit, a report by Amani Africa poignantly pointed out that Africa has entered a new era of insecurity and instability. The nature of war in Africa has fundamentally changed. Contemporary conflicts are no longer primarily about seizing state power or achieving decisive military victory. They increasingly resemble wars of permanence—open-ended struggles sustained by political fragmentation, economic incentives, and geopolitical rivalry.

Armed actors have proliferated and diversified. States confront militias, paramilitaries, mercenary formations, and hybrid security forces, often while relying on similar actors themselves. Authority is diffused, accountability diluted, and violence outsourced.

Conflict has become economically rational. Smuggling, trafficking, illicit taxation, aid diversion, and control of trade routes sustain armed groups and political elites alike. Entire war economies have taken root, making peace politically difficult and economically threatening for those who profit from disorder.

External entanglement has intensified. Middle powers and global rivals increasingly treat African conflict zones as arenas of strategic competition. Access to resources, ports, markets, and military facilities frequently outweigh commitments to peace.

Civilians are no longer incidental victims, as exemplified by events in Sudan which are documented in Amani Africa’s report on prioritizing the protection of civilians. Displacement, starvation, and terror are increasingly deployed as strategies of control. Norms have eroded. Ceasefires rarely hold. Agreements no longer bind. Mediation is widely mistrusted.

Elections Without Peace: Democracy as a Risk Multiplier

As Africa approaches 2026, a dense calendar of elections looms across fragile and polarized contexts. Elections conducted without political settlement, security guarantees, institutional trust, and political inclusion do not endure. They redistribute conflict rather than resolve it.

Consistent with the African Charter on Democracy, Elections and Governance, the African Union must urgently revisit its election observation, validation, and certification practices. Recent controversial elections and rulings have eroded public trust in electoral politics, particularly in the context of upcoming elections in 2026.

The Collapse of Multilateral Authority

At precisely the moment Africa needs collective action, its multilateral institutions are at their weakest. Political capture, failure to articulate clear vision and mobilize consensus of member states, inconsistency, underfunding, and external bypassing have eroded credibility and enforcement capacity.

Peace initiatives are increasingly brokered outside African multilateral frameworks. They tend to be driven by transactional mindsets that prioritize short-term deals over norms and durable political settlements. This trend poses a mortal danger to Africa’s peace and security architecture, as the loss of leadership of the African Union (AU)on many files clearly attests.

Toward a Reform Agenda: Reclaiming Politics, Collectivity, and Pan-African Agency

This trajectory is not inevitable. But reversing it requires decisive collective action.

Africa must urgently undertake a serious, collective strategic reflection on its position in the emerging global order. The AU institutional reform offers an opportunity but only if it is done in a manner that breaks from the failed business as usual approach of the past years. The AU, together with regional economic communities, must craft and articulate a common Pan-African strategy to resist fragmentation and reclaim agency.

The primacy of politics must guide multilateral action. Conflict prevention and resolution need to be revitalized, anchored on robust diplomacy for peace. Peacemaking, mediation, and peacebuilding—not transactional dealmaking—must remain the core mandate of Africa’s multilateral institutions. Ceasefires are necessary but insufficient; they are steps toward political settlement, not substitutes for it.

Conflicts that are regional in nature require integrated regional strategies. Enforcement must matter. Decisions without consequences erode credibility.

War economies must be dismantled. Conflict financing networks, trafficking routes, and external sponsorship must be disrupted through coordinated regional and international action.

Peace initiatives must be principled and based on courageous leadership and impartial but solidly supported diplomatic strategy.

Civilians must be re-centered. Peace processes that exclude social forces, youth, women, and displaced populations lack legitimacy and durability.

Finally, elections must be subordinated to peace, not the reverse. No more elections without security guarantees, political inclusion, and consensus on the rules of the game.

2026: A Line in the Sand

Africa is approaching a decisive threshold. If current trends persist, 2026 may be remembered as the moment when permanent war became structurally entrenched and Africa’s collective voice fatally weakened.

The future remains salvageable—but only if serious reform based on recommitment to and robust defense of AU norms replaces ritual, collective strategy replaces fragmentation, and peace and Pan-Africanism are reclaimed as deliberate political choices rather than rhetorical aspirations bereft of resolve.

Abdulgadir (Abdul) Mohammed, Former Senior Political Advisor and Head of Office, Sudan Mediation, United Nations

Today marks 70 years since Sudan emerged from colonial rule in 1956 with immense hope: hope for dignity, justice, and a state that would serve its people rather than dominate them.

Seventy years later, Sudan is at war with itself. But it is essential to say this clearly, especially on such a symbolic date: this war does not reflect the character of the Sudanese people.

Anyone who has spent time among Sudanese communities knows this. Sudanese society is marked by generosity, civic solidarity, humor in hardship, and an instinctive care for others. Even during this devastating war, ordinary people have shared what little they have, sheltered strangers, organized neighborhood aid, and protected one another across ethnic, religious, and regional lines. The humanitarian work of the emergency response rooms speaks volumes about the character and spirit of the Sudanese people.

This civic spirit deeply impressed President Thabo Mbeki during his years leading the African Union mediation on Sudan. After travelling widely across the country and engaging communities far beyond negotiating halls, he once remarked: “I hope and pray that one day Sudanese will have a government that is as good as them.”

That hope still matters. It matters because Sudan’s tragedy is not a failure of its people. It is a failure of politics.

Why Zero Point matters for Sudan

I recently read a book called Zero Point by Slavoj Žižek. I did not read it looking for answers about Sudan, and I am not an academic. I am an African political activist and mediator. I read widely because reading sometimes helps me find language for realities that are difficult to name.

Žižek writes about moments when societies reach a point where the old order has already collapsed, yet everyone continues to behave as if it still exists. Governments are recognized, institutions function in name, negotiations continue, and official language remains confident—but none of this connects with lived reality anymore.

He calls this moment a “zero point.”

It is not the end of politics. It is more dangerous than that. It is the moment when the ground under politics gives way, but we keep using the same words, tools, and assumptions as if nothing fundamental has changed. The state exists, but no longer governs.

Sudan officially has a government led by the Sudanese Armed Forces. It is recognized internationally. Ministries exist. Flags fly.

But recognition is not the same as responsibility.

The state does not protect civilians at scale. It barely provides services. It does not organize social life beyond survival and coercion. It offers no shared national vision capable of commanding consent.

On the other side, the Rapid Support Forces (RSF) control large parts of the country. Their leaders claim to be dismantling the unjust “1956 state,” a message that resonates with Sudanese at the peripheries who were excluded for decades. But what exists under RSF control is not reform or governance. It is rule by extreme uncertainty, displacement, and atrocity.

This is not a setback. It is disaster.

Much international engagement with Sudan treats the war as a setback: a failed transition, a power struggle between two generals, a crisis that can be managed with enough pressure and patience.

This is a profound misreading of the destructive nature of the war dynamic and its hostility to political settlement.

Defeat implies recovery. Disaster destroys the conditions of recovery.

In Sudan today, violence is not a breakdown of order—it is the order. Atrocity is not accidental—it is how control is exercised. Fear, hunger, and displacement are tools of power.

Polarization as an instrument of defeat

One of the most destructive features of Sudan’s war is polarization—not as a social by-product, but as a political strategy.

Polarization narrows political space until only existential camps remain. Compromise becomes betrayal. Politics becomes war by other means. Even if guns fall silent, politics cannot resume because trust and shared language have been destroyed.

What Zero Point teaches

The key lesson from Zero Point is this: when societies reach a zero point, repeating old formulas becomes part of the problem. Reformist language, procedural optimism, and technical fixes no longer illuminate reality; they obscure it.

At the zero point, the choice is not between good and bad options. It is between thinking honestly or surrendering to catastrophe.

Mamdani and the slow poison of collapse

This warning resonates deeply with African political thought, especially the work of Mahmood Mamdani and his recent book, Slow Poison.

Mamdani argues that many postcolonial crises are not sudden failures but the result of long-term, incremental damage—the slow hollowing out of political institutions, civic life, and popular sovereignty.

His critique of neoliberal governance is especially relevant. Neoliberalism weakens the state’s social foundations while strengthening its coercive arm. Over time, politics is emptied of meaning, leaving force to fill the vacuum.

Sudan’s collapse fits this pattern.

Beyond Islamism and neoliberalism

Sudan cannot be rebuilt within old ideological binaries. Islamism failed to build inclusive politics. Neoliberalism failed to build a socially rooted state.

New thinking must move beyond both. This does not negate negotiation or the urgency of stopping the war immediately. Ending the war is a moral imperative.

But without new thinking, a ceasefire risks freezing disaster in place.

Seventy years to nowhere—and a chance to begin again.

Seventy years after independence, Sudan stands at a painful crossroads. One could describe this history as seventy years to nowhere—a cycle of militarization, exclusion, and aborted democratic promise.

But Sudan’s people have not failed. They have resisted, organized, and cared for one another. The failure lies in political systems that never rose to their level.

The Sudanese people deserve a government as good as they are.

Politics is still possible—but only if we are willing to think differently and rebuild from the truth.

Solomon Ayele Dersso, PhD
Founding Director, Amani Africa

 

As in the previous years, West Africa remains on the lead when it comes to being ground zero for the new era of coups in Africa. During the closing months of 2025, the region experienced a coup orchestrated by an incumbent election losing president in Guinea-Bissau and another attempted coup in Benin.

It was in the early hours of 7 December that a group of soldiers initiated a coup in Cotonou. After seizing the national broadcaster, they announced the dissolution of state institutions, the suspension of the constitution and the creation of the Comité Militaire pour la Refondation, led by Lt-Col Pascal Tigri. Despite this announcement, the putschists did not succeed in either seizing Benin’s president or gaining the full support of the army. Acting on the request of Benin’s President Patrice Talon, a series of regional actions, under the auspices of the Economic Community of West Africa (ECOWAS), culminated in forestalling the consummation of the coup. Nigeria played a lead role, with Nigeria’s President Bola Tinubu dispatching the country’s air force to strike positions held by coup makers. Within the framework of the ECOWAS Standby Force, Nigeria, Cote d’Ivoire, Ghana and Sierra Leone also sent ground troops.

By the end of the day, these swift coercive measures, undertaken in close coordination with and logistical support from French forces, succeeded in foiling the coup attempt. The ECOWAS was hailed (here and here) for the role it played in foiling the attempted coup in Benin. Given the trends in recent years, the regional body’s response to the attempted coup against President Talon is rightly commended, potentially seen as marking a dawn for turning the tide against coups in the region.

Yet, given the timing of the coup in Guinea-Bissau and the attempted coup in Benin, the real test of whether the response of ECOWAS marks a turning point against coups came from Guinea-Bissau rather than Benin. What made the intervention in ECOWAS successful was a unique combination of factors, including the lack of full support from Benin’s army for the putschists, the economic and security interests of Nigeria that were at stake, as well as French logistical and intelligence support.

In Guinea-Bissau, despite the fact that the initial response of ECOWAS echoed its most successful and firm response to the post-electoral crisis in The Gambia in 2017, it was unable to follow through. Ten days before the coup attempt in Benin, after convening the national elections belatedly on 23 November and in a context meant to guarantee his re-election as President, Guinea-Bissau’s incumbent president, Umaro Sissoco Embalo, announced his own overthrow from power through a military coup. As the head of the ECOWAS election observation mission, former Nigerian President Goodluck Jonathan told reporters that what happened in Guinea-Bissau was a ‘ceremonial coup’, suggesting that it was orchestrated by Embalo himself to prevent his electoral loss. Following Embalo’s announcement, on 26 November, a group of army officers announced their seizure of power and suspension of all political institutions. Declaring the establishment of the High Military Command for the Restoration of National Security and Public Order (HMC) as the governing body, it imposed an overnight curfew and halted the electoral process. Highlighting the close coordination of the coup between Embalo and the army, Embalo was allowed to fly out of Guinea-Bissau despite a declaration by the military of the closure of international borders and Embalo’s earlier announcement of being put under house arrest.

The Chairperson of ECOWAS, President Julius Maada Bio of Sierra Leone, convened an extraordinary summit on 27 November. The communiqué that the summit adopted condemned the ‘coup d’etat perpetrated on 26 November.’ Most importantly (and echoing ECOWAS’s earlier actions in Cote d’Ivoire (2010/11) and The Gambia (2016/17), the ECOWAS summit rejected ‘any arrangements that perpetuate an illegal abortion of the democratic process and the subversion of the will of the people of Guinea-Bissau.’ While deciding to suspend Guinea Bissau, ECOWAS demanded that the coup makers ‘respect the will of the people and allow the National Electoral Commission to proceed without delay with the declaration of the results of the elections of 23 November 2025.’ Cognisant of the imperative for swift and high-level engagement, it also mandated ‘the Chair of the (ECOWAS) Authority to lead a high-level Mediation Mission to Guinea Bissau to engage the leaders of the coup’.

Similarly, in an emergency session held on 28 November, the African Union (AU) Peace and Security Council (PSC) decided to suspend Guinea-Bissau. Similar to ECOWAS, the PSC, beyond expressing its strong condemnation and total rejection of the coup, demanded that the military leaders ‘allow the National Electoral Commission to finalise the tabulation and proclamation of the results of the elections as well as accompany the electoral process to the end with the inauguration and assumption of the winner.’

Acting on the decision of the ECOWAS summit, President Bio of Sierra Leone led a delegation to Guinea-Bissau to push for ‘complete restoration of constitutional order.’ As part of the effort to safeguard the electoral process, Nigeria announced that it granted asylum and protection at its Embassy to Fernando Dias da Costa, the presumed winner of the 23 November presidential elections.

The ECOWAS and, by extension, the AU did not follow through on their earlier decisions. Despite the firm and appropriate initial response from both ECOWAS and the PSC, neither was able to follow through on their initial demand nor on the warning from ECOWAS that it reserved the right to use all options ‘including sanctions on all entities deemed culpable of disrupting the electoral and democratic process.’ Thus, when the ECOWAS Authority of Heads of State and Government met in mid-December, ECOWAS changed its approach from seeking the conclusion of the electoral process and safeguarding the will of the people of Guinea-Bissau to a short transition that will culminate in another election. Thus, despite reiterating its earlier decision and noting that the elections held on 23 November were free and fair, ECOWAS called for ‘institution of a short transition to be led by an inclusive government that reflects the political spectrum and society in Guinea Bissau, with a mandate to undertake constitutional, legal, and political reforms and the organization of credible, transparent and inclusive elections.’

What stands out in this decision is not simply that ECOWAS opted for abandoning its earlier demand for ‘respect for the will of the people’ of Guinea-Bissau, but also the regional body’s total silence about the complicity of the former president of Guinea-Bissau in the coup. This also signifies the persistent charge against ECOWAS and the AU that they tend to turn a blind eye to unconstitutional acts of incumbents.

Indeed, ECOWAS, drawing on its experience in securing the outcome of the December 2010 elections in Cote d’Ivoire, including through the use of sanctions, could have resorted to the option of adopting steps towards imposing sanctions, including by leveraging the West African Monetary Union (as it did in Cote d’Ivoire), as part of increasing the cost on the coup makers. Additionally, both ECOWAS and the AU could have initiated a process towards giving recognition of the outcome of the election results, as they did both in respect to Cote d’Ivoire and The Gambia in 2011 and 2017, respectively. Such steps would have slammed shut any route for the military leaders in Guinea-Bissau to entrench their illegal usurpation of power. Indeed, as a show of their seriousness about their zero tolerance for coups, ECOWAS and the AU,  as El-Ghassim Wane proposed, could also have launched an investigation into the circumstances leading to the interruption of the electoral process and the attempt to frustrate the will of the people of Guinea-Bissau. The lack of such measures means that Embalo could continue to exploit the situation and the military junta could continue to defy ECOWAS in pursuit of its plans.

Despite the success in foiling the coup, the ECOWAS response in Benin is emblematic of the deeply flawed policy approach that has become characteristic of both the AU and regional bodies like ECOWAS: react to the symptom (coup) while remaining silent to the democratic regressions that underly the coup. Even more poignantly, the coup in Guinea-Bissau reveals that the turn of events in Cotonou does not in any way signify a new dawn in the approach of ECOWAS for turning the tide against coups in the region.

Solomon Ayele Dersso, PhD
Founding Director, Amani Africa

Biruk Shewadeg, PhD
Research Consultant, Amani Africa

 

There is no end in sight for the new era of coups. Five years after it emerged, the resurgence of coups on the continent has continued well into the end of 2025. Following the coup in Madagascar in October, West Africa experienced, in November and December respectively, a coup in Guinea-Bissau orchestrated by the incumbent to prevent electoral defeat and an attempted coup in Benin. Since 2020, there were eleven instances of coups in nine African states. Of the eight countries that were suspended from the AU, currently seven remain under suspension.

Beyond the theory of contagion, the persistence of coups since 2020 is in part a result of an emerging policy practice on the part of the African Union (AU) and regional bodies that has lowered the costs of making coups and restored the most cherished prize of coup making, namely being recognised as legitimate leader.

The African Union’s anti-coup framework was meant to make military takeovers unprofitable. On paper, the Lomé Declaration; the Constitutive Act; the Summit Decision (Assembly/AU/4(XVI)), 2010; the Accra Declaration; and the African Charter on Democracy, Elections and Governance (ACDEG); together outlaw coups and provide for suspension and sanctions; ACDEG’s Article 25(4), in particular, bars coup leaders from contesting the elections meant to restore constitutional order. Article 25(5) adds further cost by making coup making a punishable criminal act under AU law. These provisions tell any officer contemplating a coup that even if such a coup succeeds, there is no path for auto-legitimisation through elections. In other words, Article 25(4) of ACDEG removed the most cherished prize that historically made coup-making profitable.

As military seizure of power surges in the face of major democratic backsliding on the continent, this rule is being hollowed out in practice, albeit, as discussed previously, without AU member states being regarded as having intended to dispense with the rule in Article 25(4) of ACDEG. Indeed, one of the paradoxical developments of AU’s policy response to the recent upsurge in coups is the fact that despite its declared commitment to zero tolerance to unconstitutional changes of government, in practice it has engaged not only in selective application of its policy but also created, as argued in an Ideas Indaba article, ‘a tendency of laxity in enforcing ACDEG’s Article 25(4) norm.’

In disregarding the application of this provision, the AU and regional bodies inadvertently remove the cost of staging coups, thereby making military seizure of power profitable again. In this context, instead of a bright red line, the anti-coup norm is becoming a negotiable constraint. Once that happens, as suggested previously, militaries start to read the norm not as a hard prohibition but as a risk that can be managed and bargained away.

This story of the lowering of the cost of military coups began in Chad. When Idriss Déby died in April 2021, and a Transitional Military Council (TMC) installed his son Mahamat Idriss Déby, the takeover met the criteria of an unconstitutional change of government (UCG): suspension of the constitution and military control of the transition. Instead of designating it a UCG and suspending Chad from the AU, the PSC accorded it ‘exceptional treatment’, excused in terms of Chad’s role as a frontline counter-terrorism partner, and marked a significant departure from the AU’s own rules. Perhaps more gravely, the PSC failed to enforce its decision on the non-eligibility of members of the TMC when Mahamat Idriss Déby Itno ran in the 2024 presidential election.

That moment matters because of the precedent it set. As a most recent Amani Africa Insight captures the signal this sent: coup leaders and militaries watching from elsewhere could reasonably infer that the PSC might be ‘willing not to insist on full compliance with AU norms if they opt for speeding up the ‘restoration’ of constitutional order as long as they hold elections.’ In other words, if you move quickly to elections, the AU may look the other way. That is the beginning of a classic moral hazard: the more you expect leniency after a risky act, the more attractive the act becomes.

Gabon then turns this early crack into a pattern. After Brice Oligui Nguema’s August 2023 coup removed Ali Bongo, the AU did the formal things: it recognised the UCG and suspended Gabon. That is as far as the AU went in upholding its norm on UCG. The AU looked the other way when Nguema, the very officer who led the coup and served as transitional head of state, stood as a candidate in the 12 April 2025 presidential election and won by about 90 per cent of the vote. The AU awarded Nguema by lifting Gabon’s suspension, in total disregard of the scenario ACDEG 25(4) was meant to prohibit.

While AU member states may not be considered as changing through practice the applicability of Article 25(4) of ACDEG, AU’s failure to at least reaffirm its commitment to this provision despite failure to enforce it in Gabon represented a significant normative rupture. It hollowed out the most important value of the non-eligibility rule, namely, coup makers cannot legitimise themselves through getting elected. If Chad’s case suggested you might escape suspension altogether, Gabon’s suggests that even if you are suspended, you can fairly quickly convert a coup into a continentally acknowledged electoral victory.

Guinea’s trajectory reinforces the same message. After the September 2021 coup, Guinea embarked on a drawn-out transition, with shifting timelines and growing concentration of power in the junta’s hands. Recent developments including, a constitutional referendum that allows junta members to stand in elections and extends presidential terms, are widely read as preparing the ground for coup leader Mamadi Doumbouya to run for president under rules his regime has crafted.

As pointed out previously, if the precedents set in Chad and Gabon are maintained, it would be unfeasible to bar Guinea from proceeding in the same direction. This will carry significant implications for the continuing credibility of the AU norm and for the AU’s broader engagement with other countries under political transition in respect to the application of this norm. This is where leverage shifts decisively to coup makers. When enforcement is inconsistent and sanctions are easily reversed, suspension, when it happens, becomes a temporary inconvenience rather than a real prohibition. Coup makers quickly learn that if they can stage elections on a timetable that satisfies regional fatigue with prolonged crises, they can keep both the prize and the recognition.

The result is a dangerous kind of normative slippage: ACDEG 25(4) still sits in the legal texts, and communiqués continue to reiterate the AU’s zero tolerance for UCG, including in the PSC’s 1305^th and 1306^th emergency meetings on Madagascar, but the repeated failure to enforce the non-eligibility rule in practice tells a different story. Each time the PSC validates elections where coup leaders stand, or lifts a suspension without even naming a breach of Article 25(4), it tacitly rewrites the rule. The norm survives in the legal text while erased in concrete decisions, with the policy of zero tolerance becoming more like a comforting narrative the organisation tells about itself than a binding commitment that shapes behaviour. From the perspective of militaries and political elites, the lesson is simple: the risks of staging a coup are decreasing, not only can the stigma of a coup maker be rectified by holding elections as in Gabon, but also, if you are lucky as in Chad, suspension from the AU and ineligibility for elections may all be set aside.

Reversing this normative slippage requires the AU and PSC to realign practice with the proclaimed principle. It necessitates that they close the gap between their rhetoric of upholding a policy of zero tolerance and their emerging practice of total disregard of Article 25(4) of ACDEG.  First, as argued previously, the PSC would need to publicly reaffirm Article 25(4), explicitly stating that the AU fully stands by the rule in this provision despite its non-enforceability in some cases. While this course of action may be contested in light of the Pandora’s Box opened in those precedents and allegation of a double-standard, it offers the PSC an opportunity to reassert itself as guardian of the continental normative framework and its legal instruments. Second, the relatively strong stand of the AU against coups must be coupled with a firmer stance on ‘constitutional coups’: term-limit manipulation, rigging of elections or blocking electoral processes as the collusion of political and military elites did in Guinea-Bissau recently. As long as elected incumbents can hollow out constitutional processes without attracting comparable continental pressure, military actors will find it easier to present themselves as corrective forces rather than usurpers.

Ambassador Said Djinnit

Building on the legacy of the Organisation of African Unity (OAU), the African Union has, over the years, made sustained efforts to address conflict situations across the continent through its peace, security, and governance architecture, centered on the Peace and Security Council. While important achievements have been recorded, the reality is that peace in many parts of Africa remains elusive. I therefore welcome the initiative to review the African peace, security, and governance architecture currently underway, with a view to re-energizing the AU’s role in conflict prevention and resolution.

For the sake of time, I wish to focus on a few key points and allow me to speak frankly.

First, when the African peace, security, and governance agenda was conceived, it was based on a strong political commitment by Member States to shared values and norms, as well as on their readiness to cooperate in its implementation. This commitment was clearly demonstrated in the early years of the African Union. Unfortunately, we have seen that it has gradually faded and could not be sustained.

This declining commitment is reflected in the limited participation of leaders in AU meetings and, more importantly, in the insufficient cooperation of Member States in responding to early warning signals and engaging in preventive diplomacy. If the AU is to enhance its effectiveness, this issue must be addressed as a matter of priority.

Related to this is the way AU Summits are organized. Summit agendas often leave little space for frank and strategic exchanges among leaders on both progress achieved and shortcomings encountered. In my view, AU Summits should focus on a limited number of important and strategic issues, with other matters handled at ministerial level. We should also revive the practice introduced during the tenure of Salim Ahmed Salim of reducing lengthy opening ceremonies in order to create more time for substantive, closed-door, eye-to-eye discussions among Heads of State in smaller caucus rooms, rather than in large plenary halls where leaders are often solicited for bilateral meetings.

Second, the transformation of the Secretariat into a Commission was intended to strengthen its capacity to act as the guardian of agreed values and norms, ensure follow-up, and implement decisions through mobilizing and galvanizing member states. Over time, however, this expected role could not be sustained. Yet the PSC Protocol clearly provides that the powers of the PSC are exercised in conjunction with the Chairperson of the Commission. In this context, the role of the Chairperson—particularly the power of initiative and proposal—needs to be more clearly defined. Clarifying respective roles would help avoid misunderstandings and enhance accountability.

Third, the effectiveness of the Peace and Security Council itself has eroded over the years. This is due in part to the declining political commitment I have already mentioned, but also to changes in the way PSC membership is selected. The shift from elections based on clear criteria to a largely rotational approach has weakened the authority of the Council and, in many ways, returned us to the shortcomings that existed under the former Central Organ.

Fourth, let me say a word about the Panel of the Wise. When it was created—and I can say this with some authority, as I was closely involved in its establishment—the Panel was envisaged as a strong preventive mechanism, able to act independently and in support of the PSC. The Protocol clearly provided for such a role. It was expected to speak openly and forcefully on issues that many of us—including members of the PSC—often address only quietly. In reality, it was never able to fully take off from the beginning.

Fifth, on unconstitutional changes of government, both the AU and the Regional Economic Communities have lost credibility. This is due not only to inconsistent responses to coups, but also to the failure to address serious governance issues, notably constitutional 9manipulation to retain power and democratic backsliding. In this context, prospective coup makers increasingly act without fear, at a time when democratic commitment are weakening and authoritarian tendencies are growing across the continent.

Finally, while the Peace and Security Council is expected to remain the primary continental body responsible for peace and security, it necessarily relies on cooperation with the United Nations and other international partners. Such cooperation should support—and not compete with—African-led efforts. Competing initiatives and external interference, which have increased significantly in recent years as a result of geostrategic shifts and weakened African commitment, have often complicated conflicts and delayed their resolution.

Strengthening African leadership therefore requires a more assertive Peace and Security Council, but it also requires the cooperation of African parties to conflicts themselves, which too often engage in forum shopping.

In conclusion, this review offers us an opportunity not just to adjust structures, but to restore political commitment, clarify roles, and reaffirm African leadership in peace, security, and governance.

Solomon Ayele Dersso, PhD
Founding Director, Amani Africa

Africa played host to two major international summits. Under South Africa’s Presidency, Johannesburg played host to the 2025 Group of 20 (G20) summit. Under Angola’s chairship of the continental body, the African Union (AU), Luanda was the stage for the 7th AU and European Union (EU) summit. They took place one after the other, on 22-23 November and 24-25 November respectively.

Despite minor differences in the issues they cover, they share major convergence on the major themes covered by the agendas of the two summits. The G20 summit, being held for the first time on African soil under the theme ‘solidarity, equality and sustainability, focused, among others, on issues dubbed to be of particular interest for developing countries, particularly Africa. This can be seen from the broad thematic areas that the G20 presidency advanced: Debt reform, climate resilience, inclusive development and a more democratic global governance system.

As can be gathered from the Leaders’ Declaration, the G20 addressed, among others, debt crisis, energy transition, critical minerals for growth and sustainable development, inclusive economic growth, industrialisation and reduced inequality, sustainable financing, and equitable global governance.

These are all issues covered in the joint AU-EU Summit Declaration under the sub-themes of  ‘shaping a prosperous and sustainable future for Africa and Europe’  and ‘a stronger commitment to multilateralism.’

One of the successes of the Johannesburg G20 summit was the adoption of the Leaders’ Declaration at the start of the summit in a departure from usual practice and despite the boycott and pressure from the United States (US.) The successful convening and the adoption of a substantive leaders’ declaration is applauded for showing how multilateral diplomacy can be pursued without the US (and even in the face of opposition from it), the architect and anchor of much of the multilateral platforms of the post-World War II world order, including the G20.

With at least 25 African states in debt distress and at least three of them defaulting on their debt payment, the debt crisis is one of the most pressing issues of particular concern for Africa that was at the centre of the G20 summit agenda. According to the UN Economic Commission for Africa (UNECA) 2025 Economic Report on Africa, African countries spent about US$163 billion on debt service in 2024 alone. Despite having a lower debt-to-GDP ratio than G7 countries, African governments spend, according to a report from Tony Blair Institute, on average 18% of all revenue just on interest payments, which is up to 6 times more than G7/EU countries.

It was no surprise that debt became one of the four high-level priorities identified by the G20 under South Africa’s presidency. As President Cyril Ramaphosa of South Africa observed in his opening of the summit, the ‘G20 needs to renew its efforts to advance debt sustainability, with a particular emphasis on African countries.’ The Johannesburg G20 leaders’ declaration did not downplay nor shied away from acknowledging the gravity and adverse developmental consequences of the debt crisis. Thus, it recognised that ‘a high level of debt is one of the obstacles to inclusive growth in many developing economies, which limits their ability to invest in infrastructure, disaster resilience, healthcare, education and other development needs.’ (Emphasis added)

By contrast, the 7th AU-EU summit adopted a more reluctant framing, potentially downplaying the cost of debt distress. It thus stated ‘high level of debt can be an obstacle to inclusive growth and ‘may limit their ability to invest in infrastructure, disaster resilience, healthcare, education and other development needs.’ (Emphasis added) While the G20 recognised a high level of debt as factually being an obstacle to inclusive growth, the AU-EU summit declaration used ‘can be’ and ‘may’, hence casting uncertainty about whether high-level debt carries such consequences for affected countries. There is, however, ample evidence, including from UNECA and UNCTAD, that debt is, to use the words of President Ramaphosa, ‘stifling public spending and economic growth’. The AU draft enjoined the AU-EU to a number of targeted commitments, including ‘to take decisive actions to address the high debt premium of borrowing countries, especially in Africa, that pay significantly higher interest rates compared to their peers despite similar risk ratings.’

Both the G20 and AU-EU summits failed short of adopting robust measures that address the structural conditions embedded in the international financial order that create cyclic debt distress, including those advanced in the joint Namibia-Amani Africa High-level Panel of Experts on Africa and the Reform of the Multilateral System and the AU’s Common African Position on debt, including the proposal for a UN framework convention on sovereign debt. Even then, while the joint AU-EU summit declaration called for qualified ‘reform of the international debt architecture’, the G20 declaration adopted a more specific and emphatic language, by underscoring ‘the need for enhancing the representation and voice of developing countries in decision making in multilateral development banks (MDBs) and other international economic and financial institutions.’

What is striking about the changes introduced is not just that they watered down the already reasonable formulations in the draft from the AU. The deletion even included a reference to support for the recent initiative to find a sustainable solution to the debt crisis. One example of such deletion is ‘we welcome the Sevilla Forum on Debt launched at UNCTAD 19 to tackle entrenched debt crises in developing countries.’ Signifying the lack of common ground on addressing the structural conditions perpetuating the debt crisis, it was reported that the EU voted against a resolution on sovereign debt under discussion in New York just as the summit was being held.

The AU draft commenced the section on ‘shaping a prosperous and sustainable future for Africa and Europe’ with ‘We further reaffirm our commitment to accelerating economic transformation and sustainable development to achieve inclusive growth and sustainable development to create economic opportunities for all, particularly for youth and women.’ After the changes introduced by the EU, not only was the reaffirmation of such commitment left out, but the section commences with a language that foregrounds the EU’s Global Gateway Initiative as reflected in the final copy of the declaration adopted in Luanda. It is worth noting that, as opposed to the very positive framing reflected in the summit declaration, the AU draft on the Global Gateway emphasised ‘the need for greater transparency, timely delivery, and measurable impact to ensure that the promised investment effectively supports Africa’s priorities and is fully aligned with the vision and goals of the AU’s Agenda 2063. The selection and implementation of projects must be conducted jointly to ensure full African ownership and appropriation.’

The substantive issues raised in the draft by the AU member states around Carbon Border Adjustment Mechanism (CBAM), including its potential for increasing costs, limiting competitiveness and undermining efforts to sustainably manage natural resources, such as biodiversity-based exports and the reference to ensuring in this regard respect for implementation of Article 3(5) of the United Nations Framework Convention on Climate Change (UNFCCC) were also removed. After negotiations, the final version commits only to ‘maintaining open, transparent, and inclusive channels of dialogue, including on trade-related environmental measures, such as CBAM and EU Deforestation Regulation (EUDR).’ Instead of the reasonable and clear language calling for provision of adequate time, capacity building support and flexibility for African countries to adapt to such new regulatory measures, the final declaration stated ‘the EU and AU will tackle together challenges posed to African exporters in sustainably managing natural resources, including biodiversity-based exports.’ This language and the reading of the entire paragraph 10 hide the concern raised in the AU draft that the challenge ‘in sustainably managing natural resources’ is a potential challenge posed by trade-related environmental measures, such as CBAM and EUDR.

By contrast, despite not going far enough and falling short of making direct reference to CBAM, the G20 declaration is explicit in stating that ‘measures taken to combat climate change, including unilateral ones, should not constitute a means of arbitrary or unjustifiable discrimination or a disguised restriction on international trade.’

These are just some of the examples that highlight the contrasting outcomes of two international summits hosted on African soil, one after the other and covering similar issues. Despite all the appearances of progress and the symbolic changes on display in the lead-up to and during the AU-EU summit, substantively, the examples cited above suggest that the summit in Luanda did not mark a departure from the past. It shows the entrenchment of the power asymmetry and the reflex of being comfortable with dominating in setting the agenda and the process of shaping the outcomes of partnership meetings. The contrast between what the opening speeches projected and this outcome is reflective of what Carlos Lopes called the self-deception trap.

This outcome is not just to be blamed on the EU. After all, the AU, particularly its member states, were not without the possibility of achieving a different outcome. This can be gathered from the draft that they initiated, which sought such a different outcome. Yet, the push of the AU, particularly its member states, failed short. Whatever success was achieved in bringing back elements initially proposed, produced formulations that substantively changed the essence of the original formulation or hugely watered-down language on substantive policy issues, as those cited above exemplify.

It is worth noting that the effort to regain the momentum succeeded in securing the removal of the reference to the ambiguous and problematic language of ‘rules-based international order’ and the restoration of the reference to the work towards the UN Framework Convention on International Tax Cooperation, which was deleted from the AU draft. Thus, ‘rules-based international order’ was replaced with the neutral and accurate framing of ‘commitment to international order based on international law and effective multilateralism grounded in international law, including the Charter of the United Nations and its Purposes and Principles, as well as the Universal Declaration of Human Rights and International Humanitarian Law.’ (Emphasis added)

No doubt that this outcome could have been avoided. It happened not for lack of ways of avoiding it, but proposals advanced in various European and African publications, such as here and here, as well as earlier counsel from Lopes, were not heeded.

While the G20 summit outcome carried content that projected Africa’s interest and had about 5 times more to ‘Africa’ than the previous record of 18 references to Africa during the G20 in 2017, the AU-EU summit was a major missed opportunity to move the partnership meeting beyond performative dialogue.

This tale of the two summits amply affirms that the observation (made ahead of the two summits) that the G20 summit ‘appears to generate more excitement in the AU and Africa than the AU-EU summit’ was not without merit.

The 7^th AU-EU summit kicked off earlier today under the theme ‘Promoting Peace and Prosperity through Effective Multilateralism.’ As the nearly 80 leaders of the African Union (AU) and the European Union (EU) convene in Angola’s capital, Luanda, on 24-25 November 2025, a major question in the minds of many is whether this summit will mark a departure from the previous summit.

The last time the two sides met at a summit level was in February 2022. It is to be recalled that the summit was held under the theme ‘Two unions, one vision’. As it was clear for many close observers at the time, coming against the background of major policy dissonance over the COVID-19 pandemic, including over access to the vaccine, the idea of the AU and EU having ‘one vision’ was seen as nothing more than an illusion. What unfolded soon after that summit in February 2022, with the Russian invasion of Ukraine, made it clear that the idea of ‘one vision’ was anything but grounded in reality.

The reality is that there are areas of shared interest between the AU and the EU. This has been in full display in the robust partnership and cooperation of the AU and the EU on peace and security. Indeed, it is difficult to imagine the operationalisation of the peace and security architecture of the AU without the critical role played by this partnership. Understandably, the peace and security partnership, for which the EU established the African Peace Facility, was premised on the recognition that the AU’s enhanced role in peace and security is a useful contribution to the global public good of the maintenance of international peace and security, which the EU has an interest in promoting.

Parallel to such a major area of convergence, the other equally important reality is that there are many policy areas in respect of which the interests of the two sides diverge, at times fundamentally. The policy dissonance regarding COVID-19 brought this into sharp relief. While the AU Assembly advocated for a TRIPs waiver regarding COVID-19 vaccines underscoring the need for a just international system, the EU was not supportive of the demand for TRIPs waiver. Although not the same situation, in the context of the war in Ukraine and unsurprisingly, the lack of shared policy position between the EU and the AU on the response to the war became a deal breaker in three consecutive annual consultative meetings of the EU Political and Security Committee and the AU Peace and Security Council. As a result, the annual consultative meetings held during 2022, 2023 and 2024 ended without adopting a joint communiqué.

Given that it is being held in a much more fraught global context and regional dynamics that further strain multilateral cooperation, the AU-EU summit in Luanda needs to be informed by the lessons from these experiences. For example, AU’s support for multilateralism is increasingly accompanied by the demand by AU member states (which is getting louder and was evident during the G20 summit in Johannesburg) for both a) reform, among others, of the global tax regime and the international financial institutions and b) delivery on commitments made in relation to the sustainable development goals and measures for addressing the threat of climate change.

This requires both sides treating the relationship with the seriousness it deserves. Despite being courted by many, the reality is the AU needs the EU. A case in point is the EU’s critical support for the AU’s mission in Somalia (AUSSOM). If mobilised towards priorities set by Africa and jointly designed and implemented, investments from the EU under the Global Gateway would be catalytic to advance some of the flagship projects of Agenda 2063 of the AU. The EU, on its part, needs Africa’s endowment with critical minerals, the demography that will be a major source of labour for the global economy and its growing market. It also needs, like others, AU member states in multilateral negotiations. Despite the power asymmetry and the different institutional arrangement for developing positions still working in its favour, the EU would do well not to perpetuate the business-as-usual model of engaging the AU, hence being comfortable with setting the agenda and dominating the process of shaping the outcomes of the AU-EU partnership meetings.

There is a lot of dialogue between the AU and the EU. As the cases referenced above show, the dialogue does not always translate into listening and mutual understanding. As the EU would do well not to perpetuate the business-as-usual-model of engaging the AU, for member states of the AU, there can be no exercise of agency without being able to set and negotiate the agenda of the AU-EU partnership meetings. Similarly, the rhetoric and ambition of speaking with one voice should be supported by a negotiated common position premised on Agenda 2063.

These were barely on display during the AU-EU ministerial on the part of the AU member states. By contrast, the AU adopted a different posture in the preparations for the summit. Instead of taking the easy road of copying and pasting from the AU-EU ministerial outcome document, the AU initiated a draft with new elements that reflect the interests and policy positions of Africa on the various agenda items agreed between the two sides.

In the negotiation on the outcome document for the AU-EU summit in Luanda, initially, there was no real discussion both on what informed the elements of the draft that the AU initiated and on why the EU side responded by deleting and replacing with its proposed formulations. This was far from an ideal way of engaging in negotiations. It became clear to both sides that there was a lot of value in engaging in direct negotiations held on 11 and 12 November. A critical factor in creating such an atmosphere was the role of the chair on the side of the AU. It has become apparent that there is a need for a more flexible engagement grounded in principle.