Africa’s latest coup wave raises an uncomfortable question: why do military seizures of power appear as increasingly viable avenues to contest state authority? Especially ones in which successful juntas are able to garner domestic support and international legitimacy?
The answer is not that coups have become acceptable pathways for many of the continent’s states grappling with underdevelopment or major governance and security challenges to course-correct. Military rule clearly cannot provide a meaningful solution to corruption, insecurity or ineffectual governance institutions.
The recent experiences of Mali, Burkina Faso, and Niger are instructive. The junta-led governments of all three states have not delivered any widespread or meaningful restoration of security or robust governance. Rather, the political space across Bamako, Ouagadougou, and Niamey has narrowed considerably, planned transitions to civilian rule have been put on hold (indefinitely in the case of Mali), and senior military leaders have tightened their grip on power.
Instead, the answer may be found in how military seizures of power have been made to appear viable, as the political costs associated with coups have become far less certain, while the governance failures that invite them remain largely unresolved.

Across parts of Africa, discredited civilian governments have been permitted to erode democratic institutions, disregard social contracts, fail in the provision of security, and close off peaceful pathways for political change without facing comparable regional or continental pressure. When militaries subsequently exploit these grievances to seize power, they may face initial condemnation and suspension, but recent experience suggests that such pressure can be resisted, circumvented, or eventually replaced by pragmatic international engagement.
Coups are therefore appearing to be more of a gamble that may succeed, facilitated in no small part by increasingly ineffectual and inconsistent responses from international actors such as the African Union (AU) and the continent’s various regional organisations. The result has been the development of a fairly robust junta playbook: seize power, shrug off initial (regional, continental and international) concern and condemnation, instrumentalise and hijack long-standing domestic grievances against discredited former incumbents, and entrench a domestic public narrative around military rule as part and parcel of national renewal.
If these steps can be followed by also stamping out any opposition and momentum for a return to civilian rule, then it may be likely that international engagement, and possibly even legitimacy and acceptance, may be secured in just a few short years.
Importantly, these power grabs have occurred against the backdrop of a broader global governance recession, in which constitutional orders are not simply directly challenged by armed insurgents but increasingly by elected leaders who seem to be hollowing out democratic institutions from within.
This global trend is clearly illustrated by V-Dem’s 2026 Democracy Report, which finds that the world had 92 autocracies and 87 democracies at the end of 2025, with almost three-quarters of the global population living under autocratic rule. Similarly, Freedom House reports that global freedom declined for a twentieth consecutive year in 2025.
African states, unsurprisingly, do not buck this trend. According to the 2024 Ibrahim Index of African Governance, overall governance progress on the continent had ground to a halt by 2022. More than 77% of Africa’s population lived in countries where security and democratic measures worsened between 2014 and 2023. Over this same period, the Mo Ibrahim Foundation found that two-thirds of all Africans lived in countries where accountability, rule of law, and justice had further deteriorated.
Accordingly, rising grievances and unmet expectations have justifiably shaped many Africans’ perceptions of what democratic civilian-led governments should and could deliver, particularly as they relate to security and economic progress. Notably, a 2024 report by Afrobarometer found that two-thirds of respondents from 39 African countries still outrightly reject military rule; however, 53% would “tolerate” military intervention if elected leaders abuse power.

This speaks directly to the distinction between a theoretical “good coup” and the far more common reality of a “bad coup”. In principle, a so-called, “good”, guardian coup may remove an abusive or discredited ruler before rapidly facilitating credible elections and restoring civilian democratic authority. In practice, however, military interventions that topple government leaders (credible or not) almost never progress down this pathway. Instead, juntas seek to preserve their influence and suppress opposition.
Accordingly, a fundamental danger associated with public frustration with discredited civilian rule is that it provides an almost de facto licence for military intervention (again, reflected in the Afrobarometer findings), while weak institutions and ineffectual or international responses fail to halt these interventions from transforming into longer-term military rule.
This is a particularly striking reality against the backdrop of the continent’s recent wave of coups d’état and the longer-standing governance recession: one that points to prevailing attitudes toward discredited incumbent regimes operating under the veneer of democratic authority and accountability and the potential attractiveness of military-based interventions to assist countries in course-correcting.
Under the African Charter on Democracy, Elections and Governance, perpetrators of unconstitutional changes of government should not be permitted to contest elections held to restore constitutional order. Interpreted more broadly, the viability of a coup d’etat as a pathway to contest state authority should be made as politically unrewarding as possible. Recent experiences, however, have considerably eroded this norm.
In Gabon, General Brice Oligui Nguema seized power in August 2023 after removing Ali Bongo. Less than two years later, he contested and won the April 2025 presidential election. The AU Peace and Security Council subsequently lifted Gabon’s suspension, congratulated Nguema and treated the transition as concluded.
In Guinea, General Mamadi Doumbouya overthrew Alpha Conde in September 2021, despite later indications that he would not seek the presidency himself. Nonetheless, he later contested and won Guinea’s December 2025 election. In January 2026, the AU lifted Guinea’s suspension and congratulated Doumbouya as president.
These two recent examples are particularly consequential, as they essentially validate an avenue to legitimate political rule directly through a prior unconstitutional change in government. They further affirm the notion of a “successful” coup, one that did not improve governance or lead to democratic renewal but one which rather allowed the armed actors who seized power to retain that power while, most worryingly, securing international legitimation.
While the more recent cases of Mali, Burkina Faso and Niger have not (perhaps yet) achieved the same formal recognition as Gabon or Guinea, they nonetheless highlight a second route through which military authorities can pursue international legitimation, namely, collective resistance and geopolitical usefulness.

In all cases, regional pressure, primarily via the Economic Community of West African States (ECOWAS), was strong. The regional body then imposed sanctions after Niger’s coup, demanding the restoration of President Mohamed Bazoum and alluding to possible military intervention. However, the junta-led governments in Bamako and Ouagadougou responded by declaring that such an intervention against Niamey would be treated as an attack on them.
That confrontation directly spurred the establishment of the Alliance of Sahel States (AES) in September 2023. Originally established as a mutual defence pact, the AES was then repurposed into a confederation in July 2024, with Mali, Burkina Faso, and Niger formally leaving ECOWAS in January 2025. While the AES may have its roots in prior regional security cooperation frameworks and mechanisms, it still provides a novel political function. Specifically, the AES functions as a regional body established by three post-coup, junta-led regimes to stave off the pressure of another established regional body whose adherence to anti-coup norms and democratic values is seen as a direct threat to their collective survival.
Perhaps even more importantly, the AES managed to practically circumvent much of the regional, continental, and international isolation that would have ordinarily been expected following their unconstitutional changes in government, the subsequent postponement of transitions to civilian rule, their departure from ECOWAS, and their suspensions from the AU.
Both the AU and ECOWAS have since explored frameworks for security engagement with the AES states. Russia has explicitly engaged the alliance as a collective security partner, with Moscow hosting a Russia-AES ministerial meeting in April 2025. Morocco has pursued economic diplomacy with the AES around Atlantic port access. And the UN has emphasised the need for coordination between ECOWAS and the AES because of the escalating terrorist threat across West Africa and the Sahel. Even the United States has reportedly moved towards renewed practical engagement with Mali in response to counterterrorism priorities and strategic competition.
Priyal Singh, Geopolitical Analyst at Signal Risk and Senior Research Consultant at the Institute for Security Studies, argues that these developments point to an emerging international order that is far more fluid, transactional, and interest-based. This state of affairs is accelerating processes that effectively deinstitutionalise international organisations like the UN and AU, hollowing them out from within, and facilitating a predominant ‘might makes right’ approach to international relations.
The challenges posed by the AES are further compounded by the AU’s inability to condemn unconstitutional changes to government while also addressing the continent’s broader governance and security deficits underpinned by long-serving, long-discredited incumbent regimes. Condemning coups d’état and suspending the membership of these states without directly confronting the political decay that makes them appear viable in the first place is neither principled nor effective, and it raises concerns about the AU’s own legitimacy and credibility.
The experiences of Gabon and Guinea are especially problematic, while the AU’s engagement with the AES states may also, albeit unintentionally, further erode and fragment the continent’s collective approach to coups d’etat. More worrying, this could legitimise junta-led governments through acceptance based on necessity (and shrewd geopolitical manoeuvring by the juntas themselves).

On the back of this official legitimation of coup leaders, normalisation of current junta-led regimes, and unaddressed governance recession, coups can no longer be seen through the narrow lens of constitutional crises in Africa. They now increasingly pose direct, material risks to the continent’s political stability, security environment, and investment climate.
For commercial actors, however, a key takeaway lesson is not to simply avoid junta-led states. The case of Guinea is particularly notable, given that commercially viable opportunities have remained largely investable, even under military rule. Despite this, the apparent stability of individual projects should not be confused with wider political or institutional stability. Investors must therefore look beyond geology and short-term access, assessing whether post-coup authorities can maintain transparent rules, credible social partnerships, secure logistics corridors and durable relations with regional and international institutions.
Menzi Ndhlovu, Lead Country Risk Analyst at Signal Risk, argues that the most significant commercial risks after a coup are often expropriation, the erosion of predictability and the dilution of institutional checks and balances. Investors must therefore learn to tolerate uncertainty and grapple with inconsistency, while political risk assessments must be treated as continuous processes as regimes evolve, not a one-time exercise. Further, investors must seek to understand the formal and informal bargains that underpin emerging political realities. And, where possible, form investment strategies to identify and pair with institutional resilience rather than personalities.
A junta that initially offers commercial pragmatism may still generate longer-term risks through policy arbitrariness, legitimacy deficits, social contestation or geopolitical realignment. In this environment, companies and financiers should strengthen political risk monitoring, diversify their exposure, and avoid treating international re-engagement with military regimes as proof that underlying risks have been appropriately accounted for.
This prevailing continental geopolitical and security landscape is one in which military regimes may work more effectively amid regional and global pressures, condemnations, and sanctions, while creating new regional institutions to enhance international credibility and engaging in new security cooperation frameworks with major external partners. Longstanding economic underdevelopment, coupled with major governance and security deficits, is a structural factor that is by no means contained to the Sahel, and the possibility of a broader contagion accordingly remains dormant but simmering across all corners of the continent.
This scenario is not inevitable. However, it would require African states to address the glaring contradictions between how discredited ruling incumbents are treated in relation to coup leaders. It will further require an approach toward addressing longstanding economic, governance and security deficits with the same vigour and resolve with which coup leaders are justifiably condemned.
Coups will become less attractive not through condemnation alone, but when the broader African governance environment is capable of removing failed leaders, restoring security and delivering for citizens. Africa’s challenge, therefore, is not merely to prevent military takeovers but to build political systems that people believe are worth defending.

Ronak is a political economist, writer, and speaker focused on the intersection of geopolitics, economics, and business in Africa. He is a director at Signal Risk, a research fellow at Nanyang Technological University in Singapore, and a faculty member at GIBS Business School. Previously, he spent nearly a decade as Head of Country Risk at Rand Merchant Bank and continues to serve in advisory roles, including with the Institute of Security Studies’ ENACT programme. Ronak is a widely sought-after commentator and speaker on political and economic risk. He has addressed leading policy and business audiences globally and delivered a TED Talk on Africa’s evolving role in the global economy. Ronak holds degrees from the University of Cape Town and SOAS, University of London, and has received several honours, including Visiting Senior Fellow at the LSE’s Firoz Lalji Institute for Africa and Global South African Brand Ambassador (2024).

