Unraveling Africa’s Coup Belt

Nikki Callahan

Alright, so we’re diving into something that—at first glance—feels as dense as the mangroves along the Senegalese coast: why do military coups keep popping up, especially in West and Central Africa? And when you look a bit closer, one root system threading all of this together is, well, colonial legacy. Particularly the French flavor, with its centralized, heavily top-down approach to ruling. I mean, colonial governors didn’t come in to teach democracy. Their job was control, like a strict headmaster running a school where almost nobody else has a say. That old setup, where power’s stacked right at the top, just sort of… stuck around, you know?

John Harvey

Yeah, it’s a strange inheritance. I’ve seen it firsthand—these constitutions, many of them straight from the colonial playbook, pile all the authority onto presidents or heads of state. You get strong executives, but legislatures and courts, well, they're more like… formalities. It breeds this zero-sum mentality: if you lose, you’re out not just of power, but maybe even out of the game entirely—economically, personally, you name it. And that’s where it gets messy, because suddenly the military’s the most organized force around. I mean, when things go sideways, it’s not Parliament stepping in—it’s a colonel or a general.

Eden Valen

See, it’s like building a pyramid upside down. You’ve got everything balanced on a single stone at the tip—looks impressive till the wind shifts. Civilian institutions end up with all the risk, none of the muscle, while the military’s always waiting in the wings, costumes ready for another act in this political drama. And yet, these scripts were written before most of these countries had even found their own footing.

Nikki Callahan

It really reminds me of my first time in Senegal, walking through Dakar just as the sun was going down—you could feel this underlying hum, locals debating politics around café tables, voices layered over the honking traffic like, well, jazz improv. I met this group of young activists who’d grown up hearing stories of coups and transitions, and I remember asking about trust in government. There was this moment—one guy shrugged and said, “We hope…but we don’t count on it.” It struck me. That feeling of instability, always waiting for the ground to shift—or maybe, just bracing yourself for it. Weirdly, it takes me back to failing that black belt test—holding on so tight, trying to stay in control, and all I did was exhaust myself. When I let go of that need to force an outcome, that’s when transformation started. And I wonder if some of these systems—built on old rigid control—just keep people locked in that bracing-for-impact mode.

John Harvey

That’s a brilliant analogy, Nikki. Because institutional transformation—real, deep change—isn’t about gripping tighter to the old ways. But we’re dealing with systems designed to keep a few strong hands on the wheel, and that makes evolution, or even trust, nearly impossible. And when trust is fragile, it doesn’t take much for everything to unravel, does it?

Eden Valen

And there’s another string in the web: Françafrique. That old, tangled dance between France and its former colonies. On paper, independence happened decades ago. In practice? The connections—military, economic, political—ran deep long after the flags changed. Sometimes it held things together, but, more often, it kept real agency out of reach, like a puppet with too many strings and too few choices. When external legitimacy is propping you up, can you truly stand alone at all?

John Harvey

It’s a tough question. I mean, during the Rhodesian Bush War—totally different geography, but there’s a parallel. The air was always thick with rumors. Who’s backing whom? When allegiances shift, suddenly, your so-called independence can feel like a mirage. In West Africa, French military support was both a shield and a cage. It kept certain regimes afloat—sometimes for stability, sometimes to protect interests. But when the French started pulling back, especially in Mali, Niger, Burkina Faso—that’s when you saw the scaffolding fall away. The institutional weaknesses were right there, exposed, and suddenly the military steps in, claiming to rescue the nation. It's history on repeat.

Nikki Callahan

And the public feels it. That resentment—years of seeing their leaders aligned more with Paris than with their own people—it just bubbles up. Maybe the hope is that breaking free of these old ties will bring dignity, but the vacuum left behind is, well, frighteningly easy for opportunists to fill. It’s like stepping away from training wheels without quite knowing if the bike will roll or tip over—only, the stakes here are whole societies.

Eden Valen

It’s what I call legitimacy on layaway. Nations keep trying to buy their independence in installments but always owe more interest to the old lender. The withdrawals you mentioned, John, didn’t just create security gaps—they cracked open the question: if the backbone was never local, what holds the nation upright when the foreign spine gets yanked out? And public anger, when it isn’t aimed at outsiders, boomerangs back to the homegrown elite. Suddenly, “sovereignty” becomes a rallying cry—and a risk, if it’s not grounded in real institutions.

John Harvey

Absolutely, Eden. The military moves in, justifying itself as corrective—'restoring sovereignty', 'purging foreign puppets', but the same weak structures remain underneath. Those fractures don’t vanish just because the flag changes or speeches get re-written. As we discussed in some earlier episodes, you can't sustain trust on promises alone—it needs roots, or the winds of change just keep howling through.

John Harvey

So, if we look at the last few years—Mali, Guinea, Chad, Burkina Faso, Niger, Gabon—it’s like dominoes across the so-called coup belt. Nearly every case hinges on a mix of disputed elections, constitutional fiddling—sometimes outright fraud—corruption, plummeting public trust, and, of course, these grinding security crises. Leaders say, 'the army must restore order,’ and people—fed up, afraid—often go along at first. It feels 'restorative,' but it’s really just another rerun, isn't it?

Nikki Callahan

It’s that security trap. Civilian governments—already wobbly—get hit with everything from unemployment to insurgencies, all at once. And when they can’t provide safety, the military becomes the fallback. At first, there's relief—the "at least someone’s doing something" feeling. But militarization rarely solves root issues. Each takeover erodes civilian checks a bit more and, as more outside actors step in—new alliances, new sponsors—it gets even harder to return to civilian rule. It's a bit like what we said in our episode on data brokers: once you lose transparency, it becomes almost impossible to claw it back.

Eden Valen

It's like an endless chess game where all the pawns, queens, and kings keep switching sides—and none of them trust the rules anymore. Transnational threats spill over, economies buckle, external players shift allegiances—what’s left? New power alignments bloom from the rubble, but democratic accountability withers. I wonder—will cycles like these ever really break, or are we watching a storm with no end in sight?

John Harvey

That uncertainty—it's so visceral. I’ll never forget, as a photojournalist during a coup attempt—standing right there as rumors flew, checkpoints popped up overnight, neighbors unsure whether to cheer or flee. That sensation of time unspooling, of legitimacy evaporating in real-time—it's raw. In those moments, everyone’s just holding their breath, waiting to see which uniforms they'll wake up to in the morning.

Nikki Callahan

So maybe what we've seen—again and again—is that without tending the roots, strengthening real institutions, the cycle just spins. Like practicing a kata for years but skipping the basics—you never actually build mastery, just a showy dance with no power behind it. Each time the stage resets, it’s just a new mask over an old wound.

Eden Valen

And the masks these days aren’t only local—there’s a crowd watching from the wings. Global partners, shadowy alliances, everybody angling for a piece of tomorrow’s order. In this hall of mirrors, genuine progress can feel elusive. But, maybe—just maybe—the first step is admitting how deep these legacies run. Otherwise, the ghost of the next coup will always be restless.

John Harvey

That’s the challenge we’re left with—how to move beyond patching up the old sets and actually rebuild the stage. There's no quick fix, but as we’ve said across this series, the only way forward is through, not around, these hard histories. And on that note, let’s wrap up. Nikki, Eden, always a pleasure to share this space—thanks for your insights.

Nikki Callahan

Thank you, John. That was a tough conversation, but it’s one we need. And thanks to everyone listening—your reflections shape each new episode. Until next time.

Eden Valen

Stars above us, storms behind us—let’s keep walking. Goodbye for now, my brilliant co-conspirators. Stay wild, stay wondering.