Ballot Box Does Not Create A Temporary President

By Alpha Amadu Jalloh

When I wrote my previous article titled “No Leadership Is a Temporary Solution,” many people across Africa dismissed the warning as premature political analysis. Some supporters of Senegalese Prime Minister, Ousmane Sonko, believed the alliance between him and President Bassirou Diomaye Faye was too strong to collapse. Others insisted that President Faye would forever remain politically indebted to Sonko because it was Sonko who endorsed him when he was blocked from contesting the Presidency.

Today, Senegal has answered that debate itself.

Ousmane Sonko has been fired as Prime Minister. His government has been dissolved. The political marriage that once symbolized hope, resistance and democratic renewal has now collapsed under the weight of power, ego and the dangerous illusion that elected Presidents are extensions of other men’s ambitions.

This is exactly what I warned about.

Leadership is not transferable property. A President is not a caretaker for another politician’s future return. No matter how powerful a political endorsement may be, once a people vote, legitimacy changes hands permanently. The ballot box does not create temporary Presidents.

Bassirou Diomaye Faye understood that reality earlier than many expected. Ousmane Sonko did not.

Let us speak honestly.

There is no denying Sonko’s contribution to the political awakening of Senegalese youth. He fought against the political establishment. He challenged Macky Sall’s government. He suffered imprisonment, political persecution and public humiliation. Millions of Senegalese saw him as the face of resistance. But resistance and governance are not always the same thing.

Many revolutionaries struggle when the revolution succeeds.

The problem began the moment Sonko started behaving not like a Prime Minister serving under a constitutional President, but like a political owner supervising his political investment. His speeches gradually shifted from partnership to superiority. His public criticisms of President Faye became more direct, more confrontational and more dangerous. He spoke as though the Presidency remained morally his, even if constitutionally it belonged to someone else.

That was his greatest political mistake.

Because no president who respects himself can permanently govern under another man’s shadow.

Power changes relationships. African politics has repeatedly shown us this painful truth. Political godfathers often believe loyalty lasts forever, until institutions begin to remind everyone who truly carries constitutional authority. Once a President enters office, he stops being merely an ally. He becomes the State itself. The security apparatus reports to him. The constitution protects him. The international community recognizes him. The military salutes him. The Presidency transforms political friendships into hierarchies, whether people like it or not.

And this is what Sonko failed to understand quickly enough.

He confused political influence with constitutional supremacy.

President Faye may appear calm, soft spoken and restrained, but quiet leaders are often the most dangerous to underestimate. Silence does not always mean weakness. Sometimes silence is calculation. Sometimes silence is patience. Sometimes silence is discipline waiting for the correct constitutional moment.

That moment has now arrived.

The dismissal of Sonko and the dissolution of his government is more than a cabinet reshuffle. It is a political declaration. It is President Faye informing Senegal, Africa and the world that he governs not as a placeholder, not as a borrowed leader and not as an extension of Ousmane Sonko’s unfinished Presidential ambitions.

He governs as President Bassirou Diomaye Faye.

This is why African leaders, opposition movements and political activists must learn an important lesson from Senegal’s unfolding political drama. You cannot build democratic stability around personal loyalty alone. At some point institutions must overpower emotions. Constitutions must overpower friendships. The office must become bigger than the individuals occupying it.

Unfortunately many African political alliances collapse because of ego disguised as revolutionary loyalty.

One man says:

“I suffered for this movement.” Another says:

“I was elected by the people.” And eventually both truths begin colliding.

History is full of such examples.

Revolutionary movements often remain united while fighting a common enemy. But once victory is achieved, internal contradictions emerge. Ambition rises. Influence becomes contested. The struggle for relevance begins. The language of sacrifice slowly transforms into the language of entitlement.

That is what Senegal is witnessing today.

And yet despite this political earthquake, Senegal still offers Africa an important democratic lesson. Unlike many countries where such tensions end through military intervention, imprisonment or violent repression, Senegal’s crisis remains largely institutional and constitutional. That itself reflects the democratic maturity of the Senegalese state.

But maturity alone cannot protect a nation from instability, if political leaders continue feeding personal rivalries.

Ousmane Sonko should have understood one simple reality from the beginning. The moment he endorsed Faye and the people voted massively for him, the Presidency ceased to belong to political calculations and became a national institution. Whether Sonko liked it or not, the people transferred sovereign authority to Faye.

That authority cannot be rented. It cannot be supervised remotely. It cannot remain emotionally owned by another politician.

And it certainly cannot survive constant public undermining from a Prime Minister who believes the President owes him permanent obedience.

African politics must evolve beyond this dangerous mentality where kingmakers believe elected leaders remain permanently indebted to them. Advice is acceptable. Partnership is acceptable. Influence is normal. But public humiliation of a sitting President by his own Prime Minister is political suicide in almost every functioning system of governance.

Sooner or later the state responds. And Senegal has now responded.

President Faye also deserves careful observation moving forward. Removing Sonko may strengthen his authority, but power tests everyone eventually. Senegalese citizens will now expect him to govern decisively, independently and transparently. He can no longer rely on the revolutionary energy surrounding Sonko’s popularity. The full burden of leadership now rests entirely on his shoulders.

That burden is heavy. Because it is easier to criticize governments than to become government itself.

The Senegalese people did not vote merely for slogans. They voted for economic reform, accountability, dignity and democratic renewal. They voted for a government capable of addressing unemployment, corruption, inflation and institutional trust. Political drama cannot replace governance forever.

Africa is watching carefully.

From Freetown to Nairobi, from Abuja to Accra, many young Africans once saw the Sonko-Faye alliance as proof that a new generation of African leadership had arrived. Today that image has been shaken by the oldest disease in African politics: the struggle between influence and authority.

But perhaps this crisis may still produce wisdom.

Perhaps African politicians will finally learn that democratic legitimacy must be respected even when personal ambitions remain alive. Perhaps future alliances will understand that no leader can permanently operate under the emotional ownership of another politician.

Because once sworn into office, leadership stops being temporary. And once the people hand over the crown, only one man wears it.

The consequences of forgetting that truth are now visible before the eyes of Senegal and the entire African continent.