Guinea-Bissau has had nine attempted coups and five successful ones since its independence in September 1973. Salah Ben Hammou, a researcher with a focus on the politics of military coups, explains that the coup on 26 November 2025 appears to have followed earlier patterns of military intervention. It undermines Guinea-Bissau’s already fragile efforts to stabilise democratic governance.
How does the latest coup fit into Guinea-Bissau’s history of military takeovers?
This latest episode fits into a pattern of electoral coups that the country has experienced in the last two decades. In 2003 and 2012 the armed forces intervened at moments of electoral uncertainty.
The 26 November coup followed the same logic. It came just one day before the electoral commission was due to release the results of the 23 November presidential election, a contest already mired in controversy. Major opposition parties had been barred from running and President Umaro Sissoco Embaló faced accusations of overstaying his mandate. Both candidates claimed victory before any official results were announced.
Given this backdrop, the coup’s timing strongly suggests that the intervention was intended to preempt or nullify one potential outcome: the victory of opposition candidate Fernando Dias da Costa.
Many observers suspect that Embaló may have helped instigate or tacitly approved the military’s move to prevent an opposition victory.
There is still no definitive evidence of Embaló’s role. But incumbents have, in some cases, instigated coups against their own governments to void unfavourable election outcomes or preempt mass unrest. Sudan’s 1958 coup and Bolivia’s 1951 episode are classic examples.
What are the implications of the coup?
The coup undermines Guinea-Bissau’s already fragile efforts to stabilise democratic governance in two key ways.
First, it entrenches the military as the ultimate arbiter of political power, privileging the barracks over the ballot box. Once the armed forces are viewed – by incumbents, opposition forces, or the public – as a legitimate referee in political disputes, incentives shift. Instead of resolving conflicts through elections or courts, political competitors are more likely to seek military intervention when outcomes appear uncertain or unfavourable. This dynamic has long plagued Guinea-Bissau, and the latest coup reinforces it.
Second, and closely related, by effectively vetoing a core democratic process, the coup deepens the institutional backsliding already underway. In the months leading up to the vote, Guinea-Bissau had seen the exclusion of major opposition parties, disputes over term limits, and allegations of presidential overreach. The military’s intervention now entrenches these anti-democratic practices.
Whether or not Embaló played a direct role, the signal is clear: electoral rules and constitutional procedures can be overridden by force when they are inconvenient. The new junta’s reliance on Embaló’s allies to staff the new government further suggests continuity, not rupture, from the previous administration.
Economically, the coup is unlikely to benefit the general population. Nearly 70% live below the poverty line, making it one of the poorest countries in the world. Instability deters foreign investment, disrupts trade and stalls development projects. Even recent gains in the cashew industry, around 5.1% this year, risk being undermined.
What are the regional implications of the coup?
For anyone following developments in west Africa, and the continent more broadly, over the last five years, Guinea-Bissau’s latest coup will come as no great surprise. It joins a growing roster of countries under military rule. Each successful takeover in this so-called coup wave sends a clear signal: such interventions are possible and, in some contexts, tolerated.
Yet the broader impact will hinge on the junta’s next moves. It is not just the initial seizure of power that matters. Jonathan Powell and I have highlighted a pattern in which military rulers now remain in power for long periods compared with coups in the early 2000s. Transitional timelines, like the one-year promise announced by Guinea-Bissau’s junta, are increasingly symbolic rather than binding.
As I noted earlier this year in Foreign Policy, efforts to consolidate power, from delaying elections to manipulating them, also embolden other junta leaders across the region.
Guinea-Bissau’s military leaders are likely to study the strategies of their counterparts in west Africa and adopt them. In turn, the tactics they employ will provide a template for others. This type of learning is what will continue to solidify the return to military rule.
What should Ecowas and the African Union do?
Coups are rarely isolated events; they are usually symptoms of deeper political challenges. In Guinea-Bissau, the environment leading up to the coup, marked by Embaló’s efforts to undermine the electoral process, largely went unchecked. That created conditions that made military intervention more likely.
Regional organisations like Ecowas also face real constraints in addressing these challenges. Embaló threatened to expel Ecowas mediators attempting to negotiate a resolution to the electoral timeline. The same constraints are usually present after coups take hold.
That said, Ecowas and the African Union cannot afford to look away from post-coup developments. Every step the junta takes, whether shaping electoral timelines or managing opposition activity, must be scrutinised.
Both organisations should coordinate a unified diplomatic approach alongside other regional actors to secure clear, credible commitments to free and fair elections. Any attempts to delay the transition, manipulate political competition, or suppress dissent must be met with swift and meaningful consequences.
A key component of this strategy should be a ban on electoral participation for anyone involved in the coup. Existing mechanisms already allow for such measures, but their effectiveness depends on consistent application. Regional organisations have yet to do that.
Without such consistency, coups carry minimal consequences. And those who orchestrate them continue to profit from their actions.
Salah Ben Hammou does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.
Legacy
I took a trip to South Africa and met a Khoisan woman.
We really clicked.
Bowler
In Toronto I saw a bumper sticker on a parked car that read: \”I miss South Africa.\” So I broke the window, took the radio and left a note that read: \”I hope this helps.\”