Senegal’s citizen power: history, challenges and renewal

Senegal stands at a pivotal moment in its democratic journey. The March 2024 presidential election, which propelled Bassirou Diomaye Faye to power with over 54% of the vote in the first round, marked a historic shift following an unprecedented political sequence. This included attempts to postpone the election, massive civic mobilizations, a constitutional council intervention, and the last-minute release of the elected candidate, who was previously imprisoned. Yet, two years into this mandate, the debate centers on the real impact of citizen power in reshaping democracy.

While the inclusive national dialogues of 2024 and 2025 offered a promising framework for reform, critics point to a concerning gap: the abandonment of direct citizen access to the Constitutional Council. This mechanism, recommended during the dialogues and initially included in the 2024 Programme Book of the Diomaye Président coalition, was notably excluded from the final drafts. Such a decision risks perpetuating institutional barriers that deny ordinary citizens the ability to challenge constitutional rights violations directly. This raises a crucial question: What is the future of citizen power in Senegal if institutional channels for accountability remain closed?

Tracing the roots of citizen power

The concept of citizen power cannot be confined to a single historical or cultural narrative. It is a dynamic construct shaped by diverse influences, from ancient Greek and Roman traditions to modern democratic ideals. Contemporary scholars like Pierre Rosanvallon and Cynthia Fleury have expanded this understanding by introducing the idea of “counter-democracy” — a framework that recognizes citizens not only as voters but as vigilant actors who monitor, challenge, and hold institutions accountable.

Their work highlights three essential roles of the citizen in modern democracies:

  • People as watchdogs: citizens actively monitor government actions through independent oversight, journalism, and civic vigilance.
  • People as vetoes: citizens can resist or block policies through protests, petitions, or strikes, forcing institutions to recalibrate their decisions.
  • People as judges: citizens increasingly turn to legal and constitutional mechanisms to seek justice for rights violations, demanding institutional responsiveness.

Cynthia Fleury’s contributions further deepen this perspective by emphasizing the psychological and ethical dimensions of citizenship. She argues that democracy thrives only when citizens are individuated — capable of exercising independent judgment, courage, and moral agency — and are supported by institutions that foster dignity and resilience. Her concept of “care democracy” underscores the need for political systems to actively nurture citizens, preventing the corrosion of trust and the rise of resentment that can destabilize democratic life.

African traditions: a civic legacy worth reclaiming

Senegal’s democratic potential is not solely derived from Western models. The country’s pre-colonial and oral traditions offer rich, often overlooked, civic resources. Institutions like the penc — village assemblies held under the baobab tree — exemplify an ethic of collective deliberation, consensus-building, and moral responsibility. These assemblies prioritize harmony over confrontation, inclusion over speed, and relational accountability over procedural efficiency.

The Wolof concept of jom — a blend of honor, dignity, and courage — and kersa — restraint, respect, and humility — provide ethical foundations for responsible citizenship. These values are not mere cultural relics; they are living principles that can guide modern governance. As thinkers like Souleymane Bachir Diagne and Achille Mbembe have argued, African traditions offer unique lenses for reimagining democracy beyond the constraints of Western liberal frameworks. They challenge the idea of a universal democratic model, instead advocating for an “universalité latérale” — a lateral universality — where multiple traditions coexist and enrich one another.

Diagnosing Senegal’s democratic moment

The years between 2021 and 2024 were a case study in counter-democracy for Senegal. Mass protests triggered by the arrest of opposition figure Ousmane Sonko, repeated clashes, and the February 2024 mobilization against the election postponement demonstrated the power of citizen agency. Yet, this energy came at a cost: dozens of lives lost, deep societal polarization, and a growing climate of distrust toward institutions. While the victory of Bassirou Diomaye Faye in March 2024 redirected this energy toward institutional channels, the risk remains: What happens when citizen power, lacking stable institutional outlets, turns into perpetual protest or populist backlash?

The emotional undercurrents of this moment are captured by Fleury’s analysis of resentment — a “pestilential emotion” fueled by youth unemployment, elite distrust, and the perception of systemic injustice. This resentment has driven change but also threatens to curdle into cynicism if not addressed through inclusive policies, symbolic recognition, and institutional reforms that restore dignity and agency to citizens. As Senegalese intellectuals like Mary Teuw Niane and Felwine Sarr have noted, the erosion of traditional civic virtues — ngor (integrity), jom (dignity), and kersa (respect) — mirrors the broader crisis of democratic culture. Without these ethical anchors, even the most progressive legal frameworks risk becoming hollow shells.

Building a citizen-powered democracy: seven pathways

To transform citizen power from a fleeting aspiration into a durable reality, Senegal must bridge the gap between legal structures and ethical practices. Here are seven proposals that integrate modern institutions with traditional civic wisdom:

1. Direct citizen access to the Constitutional Council

Citizens should be empowered to file constitutional complaints without relying on political intermediaries. This requires amending Article 74 of the Constitution to allow direct petitions, ensuring that constitutional rights are not contingent on elite mediation. Such a reform would institutionalize the “people as judges” role, aligning Senegal with progressive models in South Africa and Benin, where direct citizen access has strengthened judicial accountability.

2. Legal recognition of traditional deliberative spaces

The penc, gokh (neighborhood assemblies), and youth and women’s associations (mbootaay) should be formally recognized as advisory bodies in local governance. These spaces, rooted in Senegal’s ethical traditions, can revitalize participatory democracy at the municipal level, provided they are integrated into formal decision-making processes and given the resources to function effectively.

3. Civic education rooted in ethical traditions

Civic education in Senegal’s schools must move beyond rote memorization of institutions and symbols. It should incorporate the ethical grammar of Wolof virtues — jom, kersa, ngor, teranga — as living principles for democratic engagement. This education should draw on both global philosophical traditions (Aristotle, Tocqueville, Arendt) and African thinkers (Senghor, Diop, Mbembe) to cultivate citizens who are both critically aware and ethically grounded.

4. Strengthening independent oversight bodies

Institutions like the Court of Auditors, the National Office for the Fight Against Fraud and Corruption (OFNAC), and the General Inspectorate of State must be granted constitutional independence, adequate resources, and mechanisms for direct citizen input. A unified digital platform for reporting institutional abuses, with whistleblower protections, would empower citizens to become active monitors of governance.

5. Institutionalizing national dialogues

The national dialogues of 2024 and 2025 were a step toward inclusive reform. To ensure their credibility, they must be governed by a public charter that mandates transparent participant selection, clear deliberation rules, and mandatory public explanations for any deviations between recommendations and final laws. This would prevent dialogues from becoming mere performative exercises and instead anchor them in genuine civic engagement.

6. Cultivating a politics of democratic care

Addressing resentment requires more than economic policies; it demands symbolic gestures of recognition. A Truth and Reconciliation Commission, inspired by South Africa’s model but adapted to Senegalese culture (e.g., the Wolof concept of jubbanti), could acknowledge historical injustices and foster societal healing. Such a body would validate citizens’ experiences and rebuild trust in institutions.

7. Revitalizing decentralization through participatory budgets

Decentralization must be reinvigorated with concrete tools: mandatory participatory budgets for local communes, citizen-led audits of municipal spending, and annual public assemblies where local leaders account for their actions. These practices transform citizens from passive recipients of governance into co-managers of public resources, embodying the spirit of masla — the art of reconciliation and collective problem-solving.

Lessons from global and African transitions

Senegal’s journey is not unique. South Africa’s post-apartheid Constitution, with its direct citizen access to the Constitutional Court, shows how institutional reforms can anchor democratic renewal. Tunisia’s 2014 Constitution, born from an inclusive national dialogue, demonstrates the fragility of such gains without sustained civic vigilance. Benin’s 1990 National Conference, a model for many African transitions, highlights the risks of institutional erosion without robust accountability mechanisms. These examples underscore a critical insight: democratic refoundation is not a one-time event but an ongoing process that demands institutional rigor and civic participation.

Conclusion: the citizen as architect of democracy

The power of the citizen in Senegal is not a fixed essence but a living practice — one that is forged in the interplay between institutions and ethics, between legal rights and moral responsibility. The March 2024 election was a triumph of civic energy, but its legacy will be determined by whether this energy can be channeled into durable institutions and ethical renewal.

Senegal now faces a choice: will it allow the promise of citizen power to wither in the face of institutional inertia, or will it seize this moment to build a democracy where citizens are not merely voters or protesters, but active co-architects of their collective future? The answer lies in the courage to institutionalize direct citizen engagement, to reclaim and revitalize the ethical traditions that sustain democratic life, and to cultivate a politics that nurtures dignity alongside rights. In this synthesis — between the rigor of modern institutions and the wisdom of African civic traditions — lies the path to a vibrant, resilient democracy.