Shoots of democracy: Gambia’s first election without dictator on ballot
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Nick Roll Correspondent
| Serekunda, Gambia
In July of 1994, Yahya Jammeh, a young army officer, took control of Gambia in a coup. He would go on to rule for 22 years, brutally quelling any opponents who got in his way.
This Saturday Gambians head to the polls, and many will cast their first votes in an election without Mr. Jammeh on the ballot. The contest is a stunning turnaround for the small West African country of 2.4 million people.
Why We Wrote This
A free and fair election is a hallmark of democracy. But in Gambia, a country transitioning from dictatorship, the upcoming presidential race only kicks off the hard work ahead to sustain lasting change.
But Gambia’s path from dictatorship has not been straightforward. Turning an authoritarian country into one with a truly representative system is an arduous process, and many risks lie ahead for the fragile democracy.
“The stakes are incredibly high for this election. It is one that really sets up … how the country’s transition from an authoritarian regime to a democratic [system] is going,” says Dr. Satang Nabaneh, a Gambian legal scholar at the University of Dayton’s Human Rights Center. While the progress made so far is laudable, she says, improving human rights and democracy will require constant effort and activism moving forward.
It was dark, and there was a curfew – and confusion. A teenager at the time, Lamin Marong was at his friend’s house. When he peeked outside, all he could see were soldiers, crisscrossing in every direction.
It turned out he was bearing witness to the start of one of the most brutal periods in Gambia’s history. It was July 22, 1994, and Yahya Jammeh, a young army officer, was taking control of Gambia in a coup. He would go on to rule for 22 years, brutally quelling any opponents who got in his way.
Today, Mr. Marong is looking at another pivotal moment for his country. This Saturday he will cast his first vote in an election without Mr. Jammeh on the ballot. The contest is a stunning turnaround for the small West African country of 2.4 million people.
Why We Wrote This
A free and fair election is a hallmark of democracy. But in Gambia, a country transitioning from dictatorship, the upcoming presidential race only kicks off the hard work ahead to sustain lasting change.
“This one is going to be a different one,” says Mr. Marong, today a cellphone store owner in Serekunda, Gambia’s largest city, just outside the capital, Banjul. “This one is a democratic election – no fear, no threats. We feel free.”
But Gambia’s path from dictatorship has not been straightforward. Even though Mr. Jammeh lost a 2016 race and is off the ballot for the first time in a quarter century, turning an authoritarian country into one with a truly representative system is an arduous process, and many risks lie ahead for the fragile democracy.
“The stakes are incredibly high for this election. It is one that really sets up … how the country’s transition from an authoritarian regime to a democratic [system] is going,” says Dr. Satang Nabaneh, a Gambian legal scholar at the University of Dayton’s Human Rights Center. While the progress made so far is laudable, she says, improving human rights and democracy requires constant effort and activism. “We took out Jammeh from power, but [the 2016 election] didn’t necessarily set up systemic change,” Dr. Nabaneh cautions.
“Political demand”
Dictators are not supposed to be ousted at the ballot box. And yet, that’s exactly what happened in 2016. Mr. Jammeh was unexpectedly defeated during presidential elections, which he had previously held and won through intimidation, when the fractured opposition united behind presidential candidate Adama Barrow, and won. Mr. Jammeh initially conceded, then reversed that concession. Gambia’s West African neighbors sent a military coalition into the country, and Mr. Jammeh fled into exile in Equatorial Guinea, where he remains.
Since then, new political parties have formed, as have civil society organizations – especially those centered around victims of Mr. Jammeh’s political repression, which included murder, forced disappearances, and torture. The Truth, Reparations, and Reconciliation Commission (TRRC) has concluded proceedings on the era and will set a reform agenda when it is made public. Independent media, once heavily restricted, have flourished. A government monopoly on broadcast news has been broken by 33 radio stations and six TV channels.
At the same time, says Sait Matty Jaw, executive director of the Center for Research and Policy Development, a nonpartisan Gambian research group, there have been worrying shortfalls. Mr. Barrow, who initially promised to stay for three years as a transitional leader, stayed on for a full five-year term. Now that he’s running for reelection, many Gambians doubt his democratic intentions. In September, he formed an alliance with Mr. Jammeh’s old political party, which still holds seats in the legislature. Mr. Jammeh is now campaigning from exile for another party’s candidate.
The Gambian presidency also remains too powerful. The adoption of a new, post-dictatorship constitution – which would have reined in executive control – was scuttled by parliament last year, and the security sector, judiciary, and election laws remain largely unreformed, critics say.
“Political will is important. What if [elected leaders] don’t have the political will? That’s why I’ve started coining a new phrase, ‘political demand,’” Emmanuel Joof, chair of the National Human Rights Commission, told the audience at a democracy conference in November. He was referring to civil society, which he said must continue pressuring the government to implement the anticipated policy recommendations in the TRRC’s final report.
“For me, and for many Gambians,” says Mr. Jaw, “this election is about the extent to which we have progressed since the departure of Jammeh.”
An array of views
On a recent day in Serekunda’s sprawling open-air market, amid fishmongers, street food stalls, barbershops, and dry goods stores, Gambians winding their way through narrow alleys and wider boulevards offered an array of opinions on the upcoming race.
While some worry that Mr. Barrow’s attempt to stay in office is reminiscent of Mr. Jammeh’s, others are happy to vote to reelect the president. “Adama Barrow and Yahya Jammeh are not the same,” says Lamin Trawally, a coffee shop owner who was surprised his vote in 2016 for Mr. Barrow resulted in actual change and would like to see the president take on another term.
Other voters are celebrating the return of democracy, even if they’re lukewarm on Mr. Barrow himself. “If he wins it’s fine; if he loses it’s fine,” says Palma Conteh, patronizing a corner store in the market. “Ku win, baax na” – whoever wins, it’s good – he says in the local Wolof language.
But polarization has increased in this cycle – marked by fake news and derogatory remarks across ethnic lines by political candidates – and many Gambians continue to support Mr. Jammeh.
A high school student strolling by is excited by the election. As the conversation turns to Mr. Jammeh, he’s interrupted by a man who derails the interview, insisting the student has no right to talk poorly about the former dictator. “You don’t know nothing about the Gambia!” he yells. “You talk about Yahya Jammeh. ... You know nothing about him!”
Under Mr. Jammeh, whose face continues to grace old bank notes still in circulation, the country got its first television station in 1995. Some Gambians, Mr. Jaw included, are uncomfortable about how much of their success and education they owe to the dictator, he says. “He’s accused of human rights violations. Others celebrate him because he uplifted them from poverty, or even provided opportunity for their kids to study.”
“That’s part of his legacy,” says Mr. Jaw – and something Gambians will have to wrestle with as they move their country forward.
Outside of politics, many Gambians are consumed by hard economic realities. While Musukuta Fatty is happy Mr. Jammeh is gone, she’s also waiting for democracy’s benefits to trickle down to her wallet. She runs a modest vegetable stand in a country where gross domestic product per person hovers below $800. “We’re suffering,” she says. But at least, she says, she can voice her frustration at the ballot box – voting for one of Mr. Barrow’s half-dozen opponents.
Many people – Barrow supporters and detractors alike – are grateful to be having serious political discussions and debates out in the open, without worrying about being detained for critiquing the president.
“Before, you cannot even sit and talk about Yahya Jammeh. When you talk about Yahya Jammeh, you must watch your back,” says Mr. Marong, the owner of a cellphone store, who then mimes looking over his shoulder. You never knew who might secretly report you for criticizing the president, he says, even if your “crime” was as simple as hanging an opposition poster. “But [with] Adama Barrow, you can speak your mind. You can say anything you feel like,” he adds. “There is no more harassing people, no torturing, no arresting people at night.”
“Just the fact that we are able to have an election that doesn’t include Jammeh I think is a celebration by itself,” says the University of Dayton’s Dr. Nabaneh. “And a win for democracy.”
