In Senegal, a political experiment that once inspired hope is entering a phase of growing uncertainty. Yesterday, Prime Minister Ousmane Sonko addressed members of his PASTEF party and offered a rare public glimpse into what he described as a difficult relationship with President Bassirou Diomaye Faye. His words, pointed yet composed, were more than emotional venting — they were a strategic declaration. The political tension at the heart of Senegal’s new government is no longer a whispered rumour. It’s real. And it’s public.
What we are witnessing may well be the early signs of a looming rupture between two leaders who were once seen as indivisible. That perception now feels more like idealism than inevitability. A Sonko-Diomaye fallout is not just a possibility; it feels, increasingly, like an inevitability in motion.
Few political partnerships in modern West African history have captivated the public imagination like that of Sonko and Diomaye. They were not just allies — they were co-strugglers, forged in the fires of political repression, imprisonment, and exclusion. Their shared resistance to the previous regime gave their movement moral authority and historic momentum. Their electoral triumph was a landmark not only for Senegal but for the region.
But power, as history reminds us, rarely leaves its holders unchanged. The pressures of statecraft have a way of testing even the strongest alliances. Today, Sonko and Faye are no longer united by the bonds of resistance — they are separated by the burdens of leadership. What emerges is a delicate, unstable duality at the heart of Senegal’s presidency.
Duality at the Presidency
Senegal’s constitution is unambiguous: the president is the head of state, the ultimate executive authority. In theory, the presidency is singular. But in practice, Senegal today operates under a bifurcated leadership, with two political heavyweights pulling in different directions.
President Diomaye Faye is soft-spoken, measured, and institutionally grounded. Prime Minister Sonko is combative, public-facing, and ideologically driven. The dynamic creates what can only be described as a duality at the presidency — not in formal terms, but in perception, influence, and power projection.
Sonko continues to shape the national narrative, regularly dominating media coverage, political discourse, and street-level activism. He critiques the judiciary, questions media narratives, and lambasts international financial institutions — often in tones that feel more insurgent than executive. Though he is “only” Prime Minister, Sonko often appears to lead not from behind, but from above.
President Faye, meanwhile, governs with a quieter presence, but constitutional supremacy. While Sonko energizes the base, Faye must manage institutions, negotiate international partnerships, and ensure national stability. Yet, in doing so, he risks appearing overshadowed — a dangerous vulnerability for any head of state, especially in a political system that depends on clear executive authority.
The Strategic Alliance Under Strain
To date, the duo has notched important achievements: fiscal audits that uncovered hidden public debt, a renegotiation path with the IMF, a tentative peace process in Casamance, and momentum on institutional reforms. But behind the scenes, a contest for strategic direction is underway — one that increasingly spills into the public sphere.
Observers note a creeping imbalance: key policy decisions, particularly on economic and social issues, seem to be driven from the Primature, not the Presidency. This growing perception risks institutional confusion and internal resentment.
Sonko’s tendency to operate as a parallel power center is not just a style choice — it’s a structural problem. And while the alliance is rooted in shared history, it is evolving into a contest over who truly leads.
Ousmane Sonko’s current dilemma is familiar to many former opposition leaders who find themselves inside the very system they once denounced. The tactics that brought him to power — confrontation, disruption, and ideological purity — may not serve him in governing a complex, pluralistic nation.
But Sonko is not the president. And herein lies the heart of the tension. His visibility is unmatched. His influence is vast. Yet his power is derivative. It exists at the pleasure — and within the constraints — of the presidency. If Sonko overplays his hand, he risks being sidelined. If Faye overasserts his authority, he risks fracturing the very movement that brought him to power.
The Peril and Promise of Power Sharing
Senegal has long been a beacon of democratic stability in West Africa. The peaceful transition from the Sall regime to the Sonko-Diomaye era was hailed as a victory for youth-led democracy and reformist politics. But the promise of power-sharing is now being tested by its peril.
The duality at the presidency — one formal, one functional — is becoming a liability. As both men navigate this uneasy cohabitation, they must decide: will they recalibrate their roles for the sake of national cohesion, or will their competing visions consume the project they built together?
The challenge is as much psychological as political. Can Sonko learn to operate within the institutional boundaries he once fought to reform? Can Faye assert his presidential authority without alienating his base? Can they redefine their relationship not through loyalty, but through governance?
If they succeed, Senegal may yet become a model for a new kind of African leadership — one where revolutionary energy and statecraft find harmony. If they fail, the fallout could undo not just a partnership, but a fragile moment of national renewal.
By Ebrima Ceesay, UK
