Burkina Faso: A Curse and Case Study in Chaos Theory
To be a great revolutionary, one must possess more than fiery speeches and bold actions.
The essence of true revolution lies in consistency—believing what you say, saying what you believe, and practicing it without contradiction. History remembers Vladimir Lenin and Leon Trotsky not because they were flawless, but because they stood firm on their ideals, however controversial. Their actions, beliefs, and words aligned.
But history also records the pretenders—those who wore the mask of revolution but betrayed their own ideals when given power. Kwame Nkrumah of Ghana and Ahmed Sékou Touré of Guinea are prime examples. They began with promises of liberation and prosperity but ended as leaders who mismanaged their nations, entrenching authoritarianism and damaging economies.
Captain Ibrahim Traoré, the young military leader of Burkina Faso, aspires to walk in the footsteps of Thomas Sankara, a revered revolutionary of the 1980s. Like Sankara, Traoré is an engineer and a junior officer, thrust into leadership through coups. But unlike Sankara, whose vision was clear and principles firm, Traoré’s actions seem to lack coherence.
His leadership style is impulsive, his decisions populist, and his strategies unclear. He claims to fight for the people, but against what exactly? Is it the jihadist insurgents destabilizing the north? The poverty and illiteracy plaguing the nation? Or is it the lingering influence of former colonial masters like France? His administration seems to be moving at breakneck speed without a clear mission, objective, or strategy—a dangerous recipe for chaos.
Recently, Traoré banned judges and lawyers from wearing wigs in court, claiming they are colonial symbols. Yet, he proudly dons a red beret and the insignia of a French-trained army captain—symbols rooted in the same colonial heritage. Is colonial symbolism bad only for lawyers but acceptable for soldiers? Such contradictions expose a lack of depth in his ideological stance.
Symbolism, whether in courts or the military, is secondary. It is up to the judiciary and military to decide what traditions serve their purpose. A leader’s focus should be on critical issues like economic growth, national security, and education—not on superficial gestures that do little to address the real challenges facing citizens.
Traoré’s uncoordinated actions echo the flaws of other self-declared revolutionaries who faltered. Kwame Nkrumah, Patrice Lumumba, and even Thomas Sankara were often undone by their immaturity, impulsiveness, and lack of strategic foresight. Lumumba, for instance, was a passionate leader but reckless and confrontational, pushing Congo to the brink of civil war. His tragic assassination was unjust, but his chaotic leadership left the army chief, Mobutu, with few options to stabilize the nation.
Revolutions born out of confusion rarely succeed. A leader who governs by trial and error, without a clear vision, risks plunging their nation into greater instability.
Burkina Faso deserves more than symbolic gestures and impulsive decisions. It needs a leader with wisdom, clarity, and a strategic vision for the future. Revolution is not about loud declarations or dramatic actions; it is about building systems, solving problems, and empowering people.
History should not romanticize chaos. While it is important to acknowledge the ideals of figures like Lumumba, Nkrumah, and Sankara, it is equally critical to tell the full story—the confusion, contradictions, and missteps that often marred their leadership. Africa cannot afford to repeat these mistakes. Revolution without direction is merely destruction.
It worries me sometimes when I notice fellow Africans cheering in praise of one that is committing suicide. The confusion in West Africa shouldn’t be admired. Burkina Faso, Mali, Niger, Chad are a curse and case studies in chaos theory. We should never admire such!
Just thinking aloud…
Burkina Faso: A Curse and Case Study in Chaos Theory
