The 2024 presidential election in Senegal marked a historic moment: Bassirou Diomaye Faye was elected with over 54% of the vote in the first round, following a political sequence that included protest movements, legal interventions, and the unprecedented release of a detained candidate. This victory was widely interpreted as the triumph of a revitalized citizen power. Yet, two years into his mandate, the question remains: has this promise translated into lasting democratic renewal?
The answer is nuanced. While the election symbolized a triumph of civic mobilization, the institutionalization of citizen power is still a work in progress. A key example is the absence of a direct citizen complaint mechanism to the Constitutional Council—a reform proposed in the Livre Programme 2024 and supported by the 2025 National Dialogue, but ultimately omitted from the final draft of the constitutional reform. This omission underscores a persistent paradox: Senegal’s democratic aspirations are energized by citizen action, yet the legal and institutional frameworks often fail to fully empower those very citizens to hold power accountable.
what is citizen power in Senegal?
Citizen power in Senegal is not merely the act of voting or protesting—it is the capacity of individuals and communities to shape, monitor, and demand accountability from governance structures. It draws from a rich tapestry of influences: the participatory ideals of ancient Greek polis, the legal frameworks of modern constitutionalism, the revolutionary principle of popular sovereignty, and the ethical traditions rooted in West African cultures—particularly among the Wolof people, where concepts like jom (honor and courage), kersa (dignity and restraint), ngor (integrity), and teranga (hospitality and solidarity) have long defined civic virtue.
This power is also shaped by contemporary thinkers such as Pierre Rosanvallon, who describes a counter-democracy—a system of checks and balances not through elected representatives alone, but through vigilance, veto power, and judgment exercised by citizens. Cynthia Fleury, meanwhile, emphasizes the psychological dimensions of citizenship: the need for courage, resilience, and the prevention of resentment that corrodes democratic trust. Together, these frameworks suggest that citizen power in Senegal is both a legal right and a lived practice—one that requires institutions, ethical formation, and active participation.
the roots of citizen power: from ancient democracy to African traditions
The concept of the citizen in Senegal cannot be understood without tracing its intellectual and cultural lineage. Western political thought often begins with the Greek polis, where citizenship was defined by participation in public life—Aristotle’s politès was one who shared in judicial and deliberative power. Yet this model excluded women, slaves, and foreigners. Later, Roman law introduced the idea of the civis as a bearer of rights, even without direct political participation—a shift toward legal abstraction that laid the groundwork for modern liberal democracy.
The French Revolution redefined the citizen as a sovereign subject, uniting individual rights with collective will. Yet this promise was unevenly realized, with exclusions persisting for women, the poor, and colonial subjects. In the 20th century, T.H. Marshall expanded the idea further, arguing that citizenship evolves through civil, political, and social rights—a process still ongoing in many democracies today.
But Senegal’s story diverges from this Western narrative. Long before colonial rule, West African societies practiced forms of political belonging and deliberation that were both sophisticated and participatory. In the Wolof kingdoms, assemblies like the jambur could depose a ruler deemed unworthy. The penc, or tree of dialogue, served as a space for communal decision-making, emphasizing consensus, patience, and mutual respect. These institutions were not mere folklore; they were mechanisms of accountability and legitimacy. Even under colonialism, the Four Communes of Senegal (Saint-Louis, Gorée, Rufisque, Dakar) developed a hybrid form of citizenship, blending French legal status with African cultural identity—a precursor to today’s debates on plural belonging.
This African heritage offers more than historical insight—it provides a living vocabulary of civic ethics. The Wolof virtues of jom (courage and dignity), kersa (dignity and restraint), ngor (integrity), and teranga (hospitality) are not abstract ideals; they are practical guides to how citizens engage with power and each other. These values foster responsibility, discourage corruption, and encourage dialogue—qualities essential for any functioning democracy.
the 2024 moment: hope, protest, and institutional limits
The period from 2021 to 2024 was a case study in counter-democracy in action. Mass protests in March 2021, sparked by the arrest of opposition leader Ousmane Sonko, were followed by repeated clashes and a constitutional crisis in 2023–2024, when President Macky Sall attempted to postpone the election—a move later annulled by the Constitutional Council. The election of Bassirou Diomaye Faye in March 2024 was seen as a victory for citizen mobilization. Yet the transition from protest to governance has revealed institutional fragility. The absence of a direct citizen complaint mechanism to the Constitutional Council, despite being recommended by the National Dialogue, signals a gap between civic energy and legal empowerment.
This gap is not just procedural—it is existential. Without avenues for citizens to directly challenge violations of their constitutional rights, the promise of democracy remains incomplete. The citizen is reduced to a periodic voter rather than a permanent guardian of rights. This contradiction is intensified by the persistence of resentment—a peste émotionnelle, as Cynthia Fleury describes it—fueled by youth unemployment, elite corruption, and a sense of disenfranchisement. This resentment, if unaddressed, risks hardening into cynicism, undermining the very institutions meant to serve the people.
toward a refoundation: seven pathways to empower citizens
To bridge this divide, Senegal must pursue a dual strategy: reinforcing modern legal and administrative frameworks while reviving and reinterpreting its ethical and deliberative traditions. Here are seven actionable proposals:
- Direct constitutional complaint: Allow citizens to directly petition the Constitutional Council when they believe their constitutional rights have been violated. This would institutionalize the people-as-judge model, empowering individuals without requiring mediation by political elites.
- Legal recognition of traditional deliberation: Formalize the role of penc (tree of dialogue), neighborhood assemblies (gokh), and youth councils (mbootaay) as mandatory consultation bodies for local decisions. This would integrate cultural practices into modern governance, reviving local democracy.
- Civic education rooted in ethical values: Reform school curricula to teach not only institutions and laws, but also the ethical foundations of citizenship—jom, kersa, ngor, teranga—as active virtues for democratic life. This education should draw on both global philosophy and African thought.
- Strengthen independent oversight bodies: Ensure the autonomy of institutions like the Court of Auditors, the National Anti-Corruption Office (OFNAC), and the Inspectorate General of State through constitutional guarantees, transparent financing, and citizen access. Create a unified digital platform for reporting corruption and mismanagement.
- Institutionalize national dialogues: Establish a public charter for national dialogues, ensuring fair representation (including randomly selected citizens), transparent deliberation, and mandatory public justification for any deviation from recommendations. This would prevent dialogues from becoming mere PR exercises.
- Cultivate a politics of democratic care: Address not only material needs (jobs, education, housing) but also the symbolic wounds of resentment through truth and reconciliation processes, recognition of historical injustices, and inclusive memory work. A commission on recognition and memory, inspired by Senegalese traditions of jubbanti, could lead this effort.
- Revitalize decentralization with participatory tools: Mandate participatory budgets in communes, citizen audits of local finances, and annual public assemblies where leaders account for their actions. These tools would transform citizens from passive recipients into active co-managers of public affairs.
These proposals are not utopian—they are grounded in global best practices and Senegal’s own traditions. South Africa’s Constitution allows direct constitutional complaints. Porto Alegre’s participatory budgets have transformed local governance in Brazil. Tunisia’s 2014 Constitution emerged from inclusive deliberation—though its later erosion shows the fragility of such gains. Senegal can learn from these examples without copying them, building a model that is authentically its own.
challenges and objections: beyond nostalgia and cynicism
Critics may argue that traditional values like jom or the penc are romanticized, ignoring their hierarchical or exclusionary aspects. Others may claim that only formal institutions matter, dismissing cultural ethics as irrelevant. A third objection warns that such ideas risk cultural essentialism or political manipulation.
These concerns are valid—but they miss the point. The goal is not to idealize the past, but to reclaim its ethical resources in a critical, inclusive way. The penc was never perfect, but it offered a model of deliberation that valued consensus and respect. The virtues of jom and kersa are not about rigid tradition, but about cultivating dignity and responsibility. These values can be reinterpreted for a modern, plural society—just as constitutional democracy itself must be adapted to Senegalese realities.
Similarly, the objection that these ideas are naive ignores the long-term nature of democratic reform. Institutions do not function without supporting cultures. A Constitution, no matter how advanced, is only as strong as the citizens who believe in it and use it to demand accountability. The challenge is not whether Senegal can afford such reforms—it is whether it can afford not to.
a citizen power for the 21st century
Senegal stands at a crossroads. The 2024 election awakened a civic spirit unseen in decades. The National Dialogues, transparency initiatives, and constitutional reform efforts signal a political will to rebuild. But this will is being tested now—by the omission of direct citizen complaint, by weak local governance, by the slow pace of institutional reform.
The power of the citizen is not a given. It is a living force, fragile and dynamic, that must be cultivated daily. It requires institutions that empower, leaders who listen, and citizens who act—not just as voters, but as guardians of their own dignity and rights. It demands courage: the courage to speak truth to power, to hold leaders accountable, to engage in dialogue even when divisions run deep.
In the words of the Wolof virtues, it calls for jom—to stand firm in the face of injustice; kersa—to speak with dignity and restraint; ngor—to keep one’s word; and teranga—to welcome and include others in the democratic process. These are not just cultural artifacts—they are the building blocks of a democracy that is both modern and authentically Senegalese.
The future of citizen power in Senegal will be written not only by its institutions, but by its people—by those who dare to participate, to question, to demand, and to care. The work of refoundation has begun. It is now up to all of us to ensure it does not stall.