The history of authoritarian rule is filled with a paradox as old as power itself: the very tools of repression designed to silence opponents eventually turn against those who once wielded them. Burkina Faso is now witnessing this pattern under Captain Ibrahim Traoré’s leadership. Over time, arbitrary arrests, enforced disappearances reported by human rights groups, smear campaigns, intimidating summons, media restrictions, and forced requisitions of citizens under the guise of national defense are no longer confined to traditional critics. Now, even Muslim community leaders, civil society activists, commentators, influencers, and opinion-makers—once staunch supporters of the transition—are finding themselves caught in a system where loyalty offers no protection.
From allies to targets: how the system tightens its grip
This is not a series of isolated incidents. It reflects a deeper shift in how power operates. When a regime centralizes decision-making, eliminates avenues for dissent, and equates criticism with threats to the state, suspicion becomes the guiding principle. In such an environment, the line between ally and adversary blurs. Loyalty is no longer measured by past allegiance but by unconditional obedience.
The illusion of loyalty in an unchecked system
Since taking power, Ibrahim Traoré has built much of his legitimacy on a nationalist, patriotic, and security-focused narrative. This rhetoric, amplified across social media by a network of supporters, has framed any criticism as an attempt to destabilize the country, often attributing it to foreign powers, political opponents, or so-called ‘enemies of the nation.’
In this climate, several public figures have actively defended the regime’s actions. Arbitrary detentions were justified as security imperatives. The disappearances of critical voices were downplayed. Media closures, whether foreign or domestic, were praised as acts of sovereignty. Summons of journalists, lawyers, judges, or political figures were sometimes applauded under the banner of national mobilization against terrorism.
Gradually, this normalization of exception has reshaped public discourse. Nuance has vanished, replaced by a binary logic: unconditional support for Ibrahim Traoré or immediate labeling as an accomplice of the enemy. In such a climate, contradiction is no longer seen as a democratic right but as a political betrayal.
Yet this strategy carries a heavy risk. When a regime demands absolute loyalty, even the slightest reservation is soon treated as defiance. Yesterday’s allies become today’s suspects.
Personalized power and the spread of suspicion
One of the defining features of Burkina Faso’s transition is the intense personalization of authority around Captain Ibrahim Traoré. Public debate has increasingly centered on defending the leader rather than discussing policies. Questioning a government decision is often interpreted as a personal challenge to his authority.
This personalization fuels a culture of perpetual suspicion. As security challenges persist, the search for internal scapegoats intensifies. Military failures, repeated terrorist attacks, economic hardship, social unrest, and international criticism fuel a narrative in which difficulties are attributed not to policy choices but to hidden conspiracies.
This mechanism produces a well-known effect in authoritarian systems: the circle of suspects expands over time. First, it targets political opponents. Then come independent journalists, human rights defenders, judges, academics, religious leaders, and eventually former allies whose influence is deemed too strong or insufficiently aligned with the official line.
In a system where loyalty must be constantly reaffirmed, no one can be sure of staying on the right side of power for long.
Fear as a governing tool
The repeated use of high-profile arrests, public summons, social media smear campaigns, threats of requisition, and administrative sanctions sends a clear message—not just to individuals, but to society as a whole.
Every arrest serves as a warning. Every unexplained disappearance fuels anxiety. Every summons reinforces the idea that no one is untouchable. Every dramatic requisition reinforces the perception that the state possesses coercive tools that can be used against anyone deemed troublesome.
This strategy fosters self-censorship. Intellectuals hesitate to publish. Journalists limit their investigations. Religious leaders soften their sermons. Citizens avoid public debate. A society governed by fear gradually loses its ability to generate new ideas, correct mistakes, and build collective solutions.
Eroding checks and balances
This trend is particularly alarming in a context where key oversight institutions appear increasingly weakened.
Judicial independence is questioned when legal procedures seem to serve political aims rather than strict justice. Independent media face restrictions or suspensions that limit pluralism. Civil society organizations operate in shrinking spaces. Political parties operate under severe constraints imposed by the transition.
When no institution can truly hold the executive to account, the protections available to citizens become dangerously fragile. Power is no longer limited by law but by its own shifting will.
A universal lesson in political power
Burkina Faso is not the first nation to experience this dynamic. History shows that regimes built on concentrated authority often follow a similar path.
Revolutionaries eliminate former comrades. Military leaders grow suspicious of their own officers. Political movements eventually exclude their founders. Ideologues end up accused of betrayal.
This pattern stems from a simple logic: when a regime makes personal loyalty the primary criterion for political survival, no level of allegiance is ever sufficient. Loyalty must be constantly proven. This relentless pursuit of political purity inevitably leads to purges, exclusions, and accusations.
Fundamental rights are not privileges
This evolution underscores a fundamental truth: public freedoms cannot be defended only when they benefit one’s own side.
The right to a fair trial, freedom of expression, press freedom, the presumption of innocence, and protection against arbitrary arrest or enforced disappearance are not rewards granted to loyal citizens. They are universal guarantees meant to protect everyone from state abuse.
Applauding the arbitrary arrest of an opponent is to accept the principle of arbitrariness itself. Once this logic takes hold, it can be applied to anyone. Injustice does not change in nature based on the identity of its victim.
Many of Ibrahim Traoré’s early supporters made a critical mistake: they believed their proximity to power would ensure lasting protection. Yet in authoritarian systems, loyalty is never a contract. It is a precarious relationship, constantly reassessed based on shifting interests.
Security crisis does not justify all excesses
Burkina Faso faces a real terrorist threat that demands a strong state response—this is undeniable.
But the effectiveness of counter-terrorism cannot be measured solely by the number of coercive measures. It also depends on the trust between citizens and their institutions.
When people fear arbitrary state actions more than they trust state protection, that trust erodes. History shows that no lasting victory over insurgency is possible if institutions lose credibility with those they are meant to protect. Security and the rule of law are not opposing goals—they reinforce each other. A state that fights terrorism while upholding the law strengthens its legitimacy. Conversely, when emergency measures become permanent, the fight against the enemy risks becoming a justification for general social control.
When the system consumes its own allies
The predicament now facing some figures who once championed the regime illustrates a broader political reality.
In a system where institutions are weakened and power relies primarily on fear, no one enjoys lasting protection.
Today’s allies may become tomorrow’s suspects. The most fervent defenders can be accused of insufficient loyalty. Communication channels can be shut down and their operators sidelined. Religious figures may be reprimanded if their messages stray from the official line.
The waterer eventually gets watered. But beyond individual fates, it is society as a whole that bears the cost. When a regime extends mistrust even to its own supporters, it reveals that the problem is not with individuals—but with the political system itself.
The true protection of a nation does not lie in proximity to a leader or ideological alignment. It lies in strong institutions, an independent judiciary, a free press, and laws applied equally to all. Only within such a framework can the struggle against security challenges preserve both state authority and citizen freedoms.
