Ivorian President Alassane Ouattara has won a controversial fourth term in an election boycotted by opponents. While he pledges stability and growth, many citizens grapple with perceptions of authoritarian drift and a struggling economy.
The election’s backdrop tells its own story. Voter turnout, according to the CEI, hovered around 50 percent. While comparable to previous polls, it is a far cry from the 80 percent who voted in the first round of the 2010 election—a vote that sparked a brief civil war after then-President Laurent Gbagbo refused to concede defeat to Ouattara. This time, the silence at many polling stations was not one of peace, but of protest and profound disillusionment.
“A lot of people are wondering whether or not this is an endorsement. The electoral commission said more than 50 percent of the voting population participated, which… could give Ouattara the credibility he needs to run a government. But he has a lot of hard work to do to unite a deeply divided nation.”
The Ghosts of Rivals Past
The absence of two key figures loomed large over the electoral process. Former President Laurent Gbagbo, Ouattara’s long-time adversary, was barred from the ballot due to a 2019 conviction in absentia for the misappropriation of funds from the Central Bank of West African States (BCEAO) during the 2010-11 post-election crisis. Though he was acquitted of crimes against humanity by the International Criminal Court (ICC), the domestic conviction provided a legal barrier to his candidacy.
Perhaps more surprising was the disqualification of another heavyweight: Tidjane Thiam, the former CEO of Credit Suisse. Thiam, who leads the main opposition party, the Democratic Party of Ivory Coast (PDCI), was rejected by the Constitutional Council for allegedly holding French citizenship—a claim he has disputed. His exclusion was seen by his supporters as a strategic move to sideline a formidable challenger with the financial clout and international stature to mount a serious campaign.
With the field cleared of its most formidable contenders, the remaining four candidates were largely perceived as also-rans. Former Commerce Minister Jean-Louis Billon, who had already congratulated Ouattara before the official results were announced, secured 3.09 percent. Former First Lady Simone Gbagbo, a powerful and controversial figure in her own right, managed 2.42 percent. The outcome was, for all intents and purposes, a foregone conclusion the moment the final candidate list was published.
“The banning of Ouattara’s top rivals, as well as low voter turnout, handed him a landslide victory,” Mangoli observed, a sentiment echoed in the quiet streets of opposition strongholds.
A Constitutional Reset and a Mounting Anger
At the heart of the pre-election tensions was a contentious constitutional argument. The Ivorian constitution limits presidents to two terms. Ouattara, initially suggesting he was a transitional figure, had publicly anointed Prime Minister Amadou Gon Coulibaly as his successor. But Coulibaly’s sudden death from a heart attack in July created a political vacuum and, critics say, an opportunity.
Ouattara and his supporters then put forward a legal rationale that many Ivorians found difficult to swallow. They argued that the adoption of a new constitution in 2016 effectively “reset the clock” on his term limit, meaning his first two terms under the old charter did not count. This interpretation, while technically advanced by his legal team, was met with widespread derision and anger, sparking sporadic but significant protests in the weeks leading up to the poll.
The government’s response was swift and firm. It banned demonstrations and arrested more than 200 people associated with the Common Front, a coalition of opposition and civil society groups. The move reinforced a growing perception that the democratic space in Ivory Coast, once hailed for its post-war recovery, is narrowing.
“People saw that they didn’t have a future with politics, or they couldn’t imagine that politics would bring positive change to the country. The failure to appoint a successor could tip the country into the same kind of crisis that followed the death of founding President Felix Houphouet-Boigny in 1993.”
The Two Ivory Coasts
President Ouattara’s campaign was built on a record of undeniable economic success. A former senior official at the International Monetary Fund, he has presided over a decade of impressive GDP growth, often hovering around 8 percent. The skyline of the economic capital, Abidjan, is a forest of cranes. New highways, bridges, and infrastructure projects have transformed the city, attracting a flood of foreign investment. He has positioned Ivory Coast as a beacon of stability in a troubled region.
But walk away from the gleaming business district of Plateau, and a different narrative emerges. In the sprawling neighbourhoods of Yopougon and Abobo, the talk is of a different reality.
“A lot of Ivorians say that the economic success hasn’t reached them yet. They still struggle to feed their families because of the high cost of living. And also, there are fewer jobs for youth to get.”
Despite being the world’s largest cocoa producer, the country is weighed down by a public debt that has ballooned to around 60 percent of GDP. Huge gaps in education and health coverage persist, and corruption remains a stubborn feature of daily life. The economic miracle, for many, feels like a myth. Ouattara has promised reforms to address these inequalities, but the connection between macroeconomic figures and the contents of a family’s cooking pot remains tenuous.
The Shadow from the Sahel
Beyond the immediate political and economic challenges, Ouattara’s fourth term will be defined by a growing external threat. As he begins his new mandate, violence from the Sahel is lapping at Ivory Coast’s northern borders. Armed groups linked to al Qaeda and Islamic State, such as JNIM and ISGS, have established a violent stronghold in neighbouring Mali and Burkina Faso.
In response, Ouattara’s government has significantly boosted the defence budget, increased troop deployments along the northern frontier, and invested in new military hardware, including armoured tanks from China. His campaign speeches were heavily focused on this security imperative, a clear attempt to frame his leadership as essential in dangerous times.
Yet, the security challenge intersects dangerously with the nation’s internal divisions. A military response alone is unlikely to suffice if large segments of the population, particularly in the north and west, feel alienated from the political process in Abidjan.
The most pressing unanswered question, however, remains one of succession. Ouattara has spoken of the need to pass the torch to a new generation, but there is no clear heir apparent. The ruling RHDP party is itself riven with internal factions and personal ambitions. The failure to manage this transition smoothly, analysts warn, could be catastrophic.
For now, the Constitutional Council is expected to rubber-stamp the electoral commission’s results in the coming days, formally inaugurating Alassane Ouattara’s fourth term. The man known as “Ado” has once again defied expectations and consolidated his power. But the victory, achieved in a hollowed-out political arena, feels fragile. The true test will not be governing with the overwhelming support of 90 percent of those who voted, but with the tacit acceptance, or at least the weary acquiescence, of the other half of the country that chose to stay home.
