The current political landscape in Senegal transcends a mere disagreement between two influential figures. It represents a fundamental clash between two distinct forms of legitimacy: institutional authority and charismatic popular appeal. This inherent tension, a recurring theme in contemporary political history, frequently gives rise to a phenomenon known in political theory as *hubris*.
From this perspective, Ousmane Sonko’s political journey warrants a clear-eyed and dispassionate examination. Sonko’s ascent was fueled by an unprecedented energy of disruption in Senegal’s recent past. He effectively channeled the frustrations of a marginalized youth, challenged a political system widely perceived as entrenched, and introduced a fresh political discourse centered on national sovereignty, dignity, and the empowerment of the populace as a central force.
Sonko had previously advocated for a “smooth cohabitation” with the presidential palace. His subsequent election to the presidency of the National Assembly, occurring just days after his dismissal as Prime Minister, presented an opportunity to implement this vision.
The sequence of political events leading to his election unfolded with remarkable speed. On May 22, President Bassirou Diomaye Faye removed Ousmane Sonko from his position as Prime Minister. The very next day, May 23, Malick Ndiaye, then President of the National Assembly, strategically resigned, vacating the leadership role. By May 25, Ahmadou Alhaminou Mohamed Lô was appointed as the new Prime Minister. Then, on May 26, Ousmane Sonko was overwhelmingly elected President of the National Assembly, a clear indication that he remains the undisputed leader of Pastef, the majority party he founded. Out of 165 deputies, the Pastef leader secured 132 votes.
While some hailed this as a “historic election,” others controversially labeled it an “institutional coup d’état.” Regardless, this outcome positions the former Prime Minister as the principal opposition figure to his erstwhile ally, President Bassirou Diomaye Faye, with whom he had recently formed a tumultuous dyarchy.
Several critical questions now emerge. Will Pastef, which voted unanimously to elect Sonko to lead the National Assembly, agree to support—or even join—the new government that the highly technocratic new Prime Minister is tasked with forming?
The presidential party has reportedly outlined its conditions, including “fidelity to the program that led to the 2024 victory.” This program, it is widely understood, was primarily crafted by Ousmane Sonko.
Sonko himself has sent mixed signals: while appearing to advocate for institutional appeasement, he also delivered a very clear message to his former presidential ally. The National Assembly, he cautioned, will exercise “fully its constitutional prerogatives.” He also voiced regret that Pastef was not consulted on the appointment of the new Prime Minister.
Amidst this institutional upheaval, the country’s sovereign rating has shifted from “stable” to “negative.”
This political force is undeniably potent and has profoundly reshaped the national landscape. However, every charismatic leadership carries an inherent paradox: it mobilizes through a powerful personal embodiment, yet it can simultaneously weaken the impersonal mechanisms upon which institutional democracy relies.
Popular or constitutional legitimacy?
When activists begin to perceive a single individual as the sole source of a “revolution,” when the destiny of a collective project appears to hinge on one figure, and when the line between political allegiance and personal loyalty blurs, the risk 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 Faye, or the historical leader of the Pastef project, Sonko, who founded the African Patriots of Senegal for Work, Ethics and Fraternity (Pastef) party, now in power? Was it the legitimacy derived from the ballot box or the legitimacy of militant support? Constitutional authority or charismatic authority?
This duality was unlikely to endure indefinitely. In any democracy, there comes a point when institutions assert their primacy. A state cannot function sustainably with two symbolic centers of command. Sonko’s influence, however, extended far beyond his role as Prime Minister. It stemmed primarily from his unique ability to simultaneously serve as head of government, movement leader, militant reference point, and the emotional embodiment for a significant portion of Senegalese youth.
It is precisely here that the hubristic risk manifests: when a leader tends to occupy the space of the state, the people, and the movement all at once. The paradox lies in the fact that this situation does not necessarily threaten democracy through overt brutality. Instead, it can weaken it more subtly, 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 establish itself as a truly autonomous counter-power. Institutions, while resilient, remain vulnerable to the emotional potency of prominent political figures.
“A test of truth”
Therefore, the essential question today is not moral; it is institutional. Can Ousmane Sonko accept that institutional legitimacy must now supersede charismatic legitimacy? Can he accept that the project he helped bring to fruition will gradually cease to belong exclusively to him? Can he transition from being solely the engine of a historic protest to becoming one actor among many within an institutional order designed to endure beyond individuals?
This is arguably the most formidable challenge for all great leaders of rupture. African political history is replete with movements that triumphed in opposition only to confront the more complex demands of state governance. Governing requires different skills than mobilizing. It necessitates compromises, concessions, institutional hierarchies, and at times, 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 ability to accept the limits imposed by institutional democracy. Senegal may well be entering this crucial test of truth today.
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.
