In recent years, a wave of military takeovers has swept across the Sahel region—Burkina Faso, Niger, and Mali—toppling long-standing regimes and sending shockwaves through Africa’s political establishment.
To many in the West and traditional governance circles, these coups are seen as dangerous regressions from democracy. But on the ground, among the youth and ordinary citizens, a different narrative is emerging: one of liberation from decades of elite looting, failed promises, and democratic theater that never delivered.
The question is no longer just whether coups are legal or constitutional, but whether they can be legitimate in the face of systemic failure. And if so, can there be such a thing as a “good” coup?
The Hollow Theater of African Democracy
Across much of Africa, the ritual of elections has long been mistaken for democracy. Leaders parade before cameras, swear oaths on constitutions, and claim legitimacy through ballots—while behind the scenes, state coffers are looted, public services collapse, and foreign powers continue to dictate policy through debt and conditional aid. In countries like Burkina Faso, Niger, and Mali, elections were held with great fanfare, but what did they deliver? Paved roads? Reliable electricity? Quality education? Healthcare? Jobs?
No. Instead, they delivered more of the same: gerontocratic leaders clinging to power, enriching themselves and their cronies while millions live in poverty, vulnerable to jihadist insurgency, food insecurity, and state neglect.
The truth is, in many African states, democracy has become a façade—a performance designed to appease international donors while domestic populations are left to suffer. When elections fail to bring change, when constitutions are manipulated to extend tenures, and when the so-called “liberators” of yesterday become the oppressors of today, the people begin to ask: What is the point of democracy if it doesn’t improve our lives?
Enter the Young Military Leaders:
-A New Kind of Rebellion-
The coups in Mali (2020, 2021), Burkina Faso (2022, 2023), and Niger (2023) were not led by aging generals seeking personal power. They were spearheaded by young, mid-ranking officers—men in their 30s and 40s—who grew up watching their nations decay under the weight of corruption and foreign domination.
Take Captain Ibrahim Traoré of Burkina Faso. At just 35 years old, he represents a new political archetype,a leader who didn’t inherit power through dynastic networks or Western backing, but seized it in the name of national dignity and popular survival. Since taking power, Traoré has done what many elected leaders failed to do: he mobilized citizens for national service, launched mass tree-planting campaigns to fight desertification, cracked down on corruption, and prioritized food sovereignty. He has openly rejected the Françafrique system, expelled French military forces, and aligned Burkina Faso with regional partners like Mali and Niger in a new collective defense framework.
-Critics call it authoritarianism-
Supporters call it -awakening-
Because what Traoré and his counterparts in Mali (Colonel Assimi Goïta) and Niger (General Abdourahamane Tchiani) have done is not just change leadership—they have shattered the myth that only Western-approved, election-winning politicians can govern. They have shown that political will, not electoral legitimacy, is what drives transformation. It’s not rocket science to fix a country—if the primary goal isn’t personal enrichment.
The Generational War: Elders vs. Youth
This is not just a political shift. It is a generational revolt.
For decades, Africa’s political class has been dominated by aging leaders—men who fought colonialism or early independence struggles and have since treated the state as their personal fiefdom. They cling to power, often past 80, while the median age in their countries is under 20. They speak of stability and continuity, but what they really protect is their own privilege.
Meanwhile, Africa’s youth—over 60% of the population under 25—are watching their future evaporate. They are unemployed, undereducated, and disillusioned. They see leaders flying to Paris for medical treatment while their children die from malaria. They see ministers driving armored SUVs while farmers walk miles for clean water.
The Sahel coups are the boiling point of this frustration. The young military officers didn’t just overthrow governments—they overthrew a system. They represent a new ethos: one of sacrifice, patriotism, and urgency. They wear simple uniforms, speak directly to the people, and frame their mission as a revolution, not a power grab.
-A Warning to Africa’s Political Elders-
To the aging presidents and entrenched elites across Africa:
This is your wake-up call.
The youth bulge is no longer just a demographic statistic. It is a political force—one that is impatient, angry, and increasingly willing to act outside constitutional norms. When institutions fail, when elections become farces, and when leaders treat the state as a buffet, the young will not wait. They will not beg. They will not protest forever. They will take matters into their own hands.
The Sahel uprisings prove that legitimacy is not conferred by ballots alone, but by results. If leaders continue to steal, to serve foreign interests, and to ignore the suffering of their people, they will face consequences—not just at the ballot box, but in the barracks, the streets, and the shadows.
Conclusion:
Can a Coup Be Good?
Perhaps the better question is:
Can a democracy be bad?
If democracy means endless elections that change nothing, then yes—there may be room for disruption. The coups in the Sahel are not perfect. They carry risks. They may not last. But they have done something rare: they have restored a sense of agency, of national pride, and of possibility.
Captain Traoré didn’t inherit a functioning state. He inherited a broken one. And in a short time, he has shown that with political will, even a war-torn, impoverished nation can begin to heal.
So, are there good coups? Maybe not in theory. But in practice, when the alternative is kleptocratic stagnation, perhaps a necessary one.
The message from the Sahel is clear:
The youth are watching.
They are ready. And they will no longer let their elders squander their future.
You have been warned.