In Burkina Faso, the figure of Thomas Sankara has long since outgrown the status of a simple historical reference. It now occupies a central place in the political narrative advanced by the authorities led by Ibrahim Traoré. Yet beneath the official tributes, the military ceremonies and the construction of a mausoleum, a troubling question arises: is the current leadership gradually appropriating the image of Sankara in order to consolidate its own political legitimacy?

The convergence is not merely the observation of outside analysts; it is plainly visible in the regime’s own official communication.

Since 2026, the Burkinabè government has staged a monthly military ceremony devoted to Thomas Sankara, an initiative presented as having been established on the instructions of Ibrahim Traoré. The official discourse goes further still: during a tribute held in February 2026, the president’s chief of staff declared that Sankara’s “torch” is now borne by Ibrahim Traoré.

This staging of historical continuity raises a fundamental question: does Ibrahim Traoré simply wish to honour Sankara, or does he seek to present himself as the man who has taken up and continued his struggle? The distinction matters.

Thomas Sankara belongs to the history of Burkina Faso and to the memory of millions of Africans. But there also exists a family memory, upheld in particular by his widow, Mariam Sankara, his children, and his brothers and sisters. On that front, the relationship between the family and the transitional authorities has never been as consensual as the official narrative might suggest.

February 2023: the rift over the burial site

The most telling precedent dates back to February 2023.

Following the exhumation of the remains of Thomas Sankara and his twelve companions, the government decided to reinter them on the site of the former Conseil de l’Entente, which had become the Thomas Sankara Memorial. The choice carried heavy symbolism: it was precisely there that Sankara and his companions were assassinated on 15 October 1987.

The Sankara family objected.

On 16 February 2023, Mariam Sankara, her two sons Philippe and Auguste, and the siblings of the deceased president addressed Ibrahim Traoré directly, urging him to abandon the decision. They proposed three alternative locations: the Dagnoën cemetery, the Jardin de l’Amitié and the Jardin Yennenga.

The disagreement then became public. The family considered that the decision had been taken without genuine consensus and refused to take part in the ceremony. On 21 February, it confirmed that it would be neither present nor represented at the burial.

On 23 February, the ceremony went ahead regardless.

The authorities moved forward. The family kept its distance.

That sequence is essential to understanding what followed, for the Traoré government would progressively turn Sankara’s memory into a cornerstone of its own political narrative.

Turning Sankara into a state inheritance

Since that period, the institutional presence of Sankara has only grown.

The mausoleum intended for Thomas Sankara and his twelve companions was built on the Memorial site. Ibrahim Traoré laid its foundation stone on 15 October 2023, and the structure was inaugurated in May 2025. The project was officially presented as a means of preserving and promoting the political heritage of the father of the August 1983 revolution.

In 2026, this commemorative policy acquired a further dimension with the introduction of monthly military ceremonies.

Through such initiatives, the authorities no longer merely commemorate Sankara. They organise, institutionalise and stage his memory.

This is where one of the major political stakes lies.

Within the official narrative, Ibrahim Traoré can thus appear as the man who finally rehabilitated Sankara fully, restored his memory and took up his struggle. Government discourse openly suggests as much. In June 2026, during a tribute at the Memorial, the minister of foreign affairs asserted that Sankara’s torch is carried “with dignity and commitment” by Ibrahim Traoré.

Such a presentation mechanically brings the two figures closer together in the collective imagination: Sankara, the assassinated revolutionary; Traoré, the young captain portrayed as the one who takes up the torch.

The risk of a narrative built upon Sankara’s remains

It is precisely here that the family question becomes central.

For Thomas Sankara’s relatives, his legacy cannot be reduced to an instrument of political communication or to a backdrop for legitimising power. His body, his remains, the place where he rests and the memory preserved by his family carry an intimate dimension that the state cannot entirely absorb.

Yet since 2023, the authorities have taken control of a large part of the institutional staging of that memory: the reinterment, the mausoleum, the military ceremonies, the official tributes, the discourse on sovereignty and the constant references to the revolution.

The paradox is striking: the power that today claims Sankara’s political heritage is the very same power with which part of his family found itself at odds over how his remains should be handled.

This is not to assert that Ibrahim Traoré personally seeks to “take” Sankara away from his family. Such an intention would be a matter of interpretation and would require further evidence.

The facts, however, allow another observation: the regime is gradually constructing a narrative in which Ibrahim Traoré appears as the political heir of Captain Sankara and as the man who has resumed his fight.

That construction is far from insignificant. It allows the current authorities to place themselves within an exceptionally powerful revolutionary lineage in Burkina Faso. It also provides them with a historical reference capable of lending ideological depth to their own discourse on sovereignty, pan-Africanism and independence.

Researchers have moreover noted how frequently Traoré invokes Sankara’s memory, and the way his political rhetoric echoes certain themes associated with the former president, notably sovereignty and the rejection of external dependence.

Does memory belong to those who govern?

Ultimately, this is the most delicate question of all.

Thomas Sankara is not merely a statue, a mausoleum or a military ceremony. He is also a family history, a painful memory and a political struggle whose interpretation cannot be imposed by decree.

The transitional authorities may legitimately honour his memory. They may restore sites, organise ceremonies and preserve archives. But another question remains: can they, in the name of that rehabilitation, present themselves as the natural custodians of his heritage?

The precedent of 2023 shows at any rate that the Sankara family has not always accepted the choices made by those in power regarding that memory.

And therein lies the entire ambiguity of the present narrative. By constantly presenting itself as the bearer of Sankara’s torch, the Traoré government risks shifting the memory of a man assassinated in 1987 towards another story: that of a contemporary power seeking to inscribe its own name within the continuity of the revolution.

Sankara left behind a body of work and a body of thought. Traoré is building his own power today. Between the two, the memory of Thomas Sankara has become a major political issue.

By Maimouna Kaboré — Editor-in-Chief