Dear South Sudan's Leaders:

Today, the country that all of you and your fellow citizens fought to establish is at a crossroads. And you, the country’s leaders, are now standing at the proverbial “fork in the road.” The question now is: Which road will each of you take? Your choice will determine not only your place in history but will significantly impact the future of your shared country, its diverse peoples and your neighbors. Each of you can choose to chase after personal power, primitive accumulation, and self-enrichment—using the ethnic group that you belong to as a foundation for that quest. This disastrous decision would plunge your country further into violent and destructive mobilization, effectively shutting the door to the type of state formation that is undergirded by a desire to achieve national integration, peaceful coexistence and sustainable development. Alternatively, each of you can opt to maximize a different value, one that places you among the world’s greatest leaders—that is, those who, when they came to the fork in the road, chose to lead their people down the road of opportunities for peaceful coexistence, prosperity and liberty.

As the citizens of South Sudan watch and wait in utter fear and disgust, it is time for you, the country’s leaders, to decide whether you want to lead them into a future filled with unending violence, hunger, and desolation, or into one where all of the country’s various peoples, regardless of their ethnic or religious affiliation, gender, and economic status, can live together peacefully and pursue their values and interests without molestation from others.

In the early 1990s, Nelson Mandela and his compatriots found themselves at a similar crossroads. They chose not to act opportunistically and retreat to their various ethnic enclaves.  Like the great leaders that history has proven them to be, they knew that, as apparently beneficial as such an option would have been to them, they would have plunged their country into an abyss from which it was unlikely to recover anytime soon. Instead, they chose the road that led them and their country to the type of state formation that is undergirded by institutional arrangements that provide an enabling environment for wealth creation and economic growth. That is why, today, the country that they founded has one of the world’s most progressive and human-rights friendly constitutions.

South Sudan is a new and relatively underdeveloped country, but it has the potential to emerge as a highly developed and peaceful one. However, in order for that potential to be fully exploited and used effectively to enhance development, the latter must be provided with institutional arrangements that guarantee the rule of law.

To you, the leaders of this new country: All of you can gracefully exit the scene, serve as elder statesmen, and provide the country’s new crop of leaders with the type of advice and support that can help the country successfully emerge from its violent and destructive past, as well as chart a path towards peace, sustainable economic growth and development, and equitable and fair allocation of national resources.

How will history judge you? As tyrants, opportunists, despots, exploiters, and oppressors, who used their public positions to grab power and riches for themselves or as public servants who spearheaded and led the transformative processes that brought peace, security, and development to their country? The choice is yours.

Posterity will judge you well, but only if you choose wisely!

On Tuesday, October 28, 2014, tens of thousands of citizens of Burkina Faso gathered in its capital city, Ouagadougou, and its second biggest city, Bobo Dioulasso, to protest proposed changes to its constitution regarding term limits. A vote was planned for Thursday, on whether to extend the current limit of two terms to three. This vote is extremely controversial:  Current President Blaise Compaoré, who came to power in a coup in 1987, has ruled the country for 27 years. Allowing him to run for election in November 2015 could extend his reign for another five years. In Ouagadougou on Wednesday, citizens angry over the possibility that parliament might make it possible for Campaoré to stay in power indefinitely set fire to the parliament and forced legislators to postpone the vote that had been set for Thursday, October 30, 2014 to decide the constitutional issue.

The West African country has been plagued by dictators, autocracies and coups in the past. At independence on August 5, 1960, Maurice Yaméogo, leader of the Voltaic Democratic Union (Union démocratique voltaïque), became the country’s first president. Shortly after assuming power, Yaméogo banned all political opposition, forcing mass riots and demonstrations that only came to an end after the military intervened in 1966. Lt. Col. Sangoulé Lamizana and a collection of military elites took control of the government and subsequently dissolved the National Assembly as well as suspended the constitution. Lamizana stayed in power until November 1980 when the military overthrew the government and installed Col. Saye Zerbo as the new president. Two years later, Col. Zerbo’s government was overthrown by Maj. Dr. Jean-Baptiste Ouédraogo and the Council of Popular Salvation (CSP—Conseil du salut du peuple). Although it promised to transition the country to civilian rule and provide a new constitution, the Ouédraogo regime banned all political organizations, including opposition parties. There soon arose a political struggle within the CSP. The radicals, led by Captain Thomas Sankara, eventually overthrew the government in August 1983, and Capt. Sankara emerged as the country’s new leader. In 1984, the Sankara government changed the country’s name from Upper Volta to Burkina Faso and introduced many institutional reforms that effectively aligned the country with Marxist ideals.

On October 15, 1987, Capt. Blaise Compaoré, a former colleague of Sankara’s, killed Sankara and several of his confidants in a successful coup d’état. In 1991, Campaoré was elected president in an election in which only 25 percent of the electorate participated because of a boycott movement organized and carried out by opposition parties. In 1998, he won reelection for another seven-year term. As president, Campaoré reversed all the progressive policies that Sankara had implemented.

In 2000, the country’s post-Cold War 1991 constitution was amended to impose a limit of two five-year consecutive terms on the presidency. However, Campaoré’s supporters argued that because he was in office when the amendments went into effect, they did not apply to him and, hence, he was qualified to run for re-election in 2005. Despite the fact that the opposition fielded several candidates, Campoaré won 80.35 percent of the votes cast in the 2005 presidential election. And, in the presidential elections held in November 2010, he captured 80.2 percent of votes.

Over more than a quarter century in power, Campaoré has used an unusual formula to achieve relative stability in Burkina Faso—authoritarianism mixed with traces of democracy. The complex governance system has relied primarily on Campaoré’s dominant and charismatic political power and has failed to build sustainable institutions—specifically, those capable of maintaining the rule of law and enhancing peaceful coexistence in his absence.

Constitutionally mandated presidential term limits strengthen the rule of law and provide a significant level of stability and predictability to the country’s governance institutions. In response to the efforts by Burkinabé members of parliament to change the constitution to enable Compaoré to secure another term in office, U.S. government officials have recently stated that “democratic institutions are strengthened when established rules are adhered to with consistency.” On his part, Campaoré has proclaimed that his main and immediate concern “is not to build a future for myself—but to see how the future of this country will take shape.” If this is indeed true, then he should exit gracefully from the Burkinabé political scene and henceforth serve as an elder statesman, providing his country’s new leadership with the advice and support that they need to deepen and institutionalize democracy, as well as enhance economic, social, political and human development.

Insisting, as President Campoaré has done, that the constitution be changed so that he can seek an additional term in power not only destroys the country’s fragile stability but also sends the wrong message to citizens about the rule of law—while citizens must be law-abiding, the president does not have to abide by the country’s settled law; if the law stands in the way of the president’s personal ambitions, he can simply change the law to provide him with the wherewithal to achieve those objectives. Such behavior from the country’s chief executive does not augur well for deepening the country’s democracy, an objective that is dear to many Burkinabé. The question to ask President Campoaré is: How do you want history to remember you? As a self-serving political opportunist who used his public position to accumulate personal power and wealth, at the expense of fellow citizens, or as a public servant who led and directed his country’s transformation into a peaceful, safe and productive society?

On Friday, October 31, 2014, President Blaise Campaoré, who had ruled Burkina Faso for the last 27 years, was forced out of office. The resignation and subsequent military takeover of the government has created instability and questions over leadership in the country—especially since the constitutional line of succession has been broken by the insertion of military leaders. The power of the military is clear, especially since it has already influenced a second change in leadership. This interruption, subsequent transition and suspension of the constitution, then, have seriously threatened the strength of the rule of law and the future of the Burkinabé government.

The violent demonstrations that eventually forced President Campaoré to flee with his family into exile in Côte d’Ivoire could have been avoided had he not considered himself above the law. The impetus for the mass demonstrations was his attempt to change the country’s constitution in order to secure for himself another five-year term in office. Campaoré’s initial reaction to the violent demonstrations was to dissolve the government but retain his position as president until new elections were carried out to select a new government. He also agreed not to seek another term in office. The opposition, however, insisted that he resign. Interestingly, in his resignation statement, issued shortly before he fled the country, President Campaoré called for “free and transparent” elections to be held in 90 days to form a new government.

Shortly after the president’s resignation, General Honoré Traoré, Campaoré’s aide de camp, proclaimed himself president of the republic. This immediate military intervention into Burkinabé politics betrays either a lack of appreciation for constitutional democracy or a willful attempt by the military to take advantage of the instability occasioned by the planned constitutional changes to maximize their corporate interests. But, could someone who had risen to the head of the Burkinabé military have such little understanding of and appreciation for the constitutional order? In announcing that he had assumed the office of head of state, Traoré actually stated as follows: “In line with constitutional measures, and given the power vacuum . . . I will assume as of today my responsibilities as head of state.”

Importantly, there is no provision in the constitution of Burkina Faso for the head of the military or some other military officer to assume the powers of the president in case of a vacancy in the office. Succession, in the case of a vacancy in the presidency of the republic, is governed by Article 43 of the Constitution of Burkina Faso, 1991, which states that, in a case like this, the functions of the presidency should be performed by the president of the senate. [1]

After Traoré’s quick takeover, the leaders of the protests rejected the government headed by such a close and trusted advisor of the ousted president, claiming it would not represent a full and effective break with the painful past, especially the attempted constitutional changes. In fact, according to Al Jazeera, many of the protesters proclaimed that “[t]he general is linked to Campoaré, and they don’t want anyone linked to Campaoré to lead the country.”

Thus, early on Saturday, November 1, 2014, Colonel Isaac Zida declared that the army had taken control of the state to prevent further violence and that he had assumed the functions of head of state, leading what he referred to as a “peaceful transition”—one that would guarantee the “continuity of the [Burkinabé] state.” He, however, was extremely vague, providing few details, especially regarding how long this transitional government would stay in power or if the elections planned for 2015 will be held. Again, it is difficult to imagine that Zida, like Traoré, was not aware that the resignation and subsequent exit of the president from the political scene did not call for military intervention in the political system. In fact, a military officer of his standing should have had enough familiarity with the constitution to be aware of Article 43.

Oddly, the protesters appeared to have accepted the leadership of Zida, who is said to have been the deputy head of Campaoré’s elite presidential guard. It appears that the deciding factor in the struggle between the two men to assume the position of head of state was acceptance by the military: In a statement issued early on Saturday, November 1, 2014, the military indicated that Zida had been unanimously elected by military chiefs to lead the post-Campaoré transitional government. But, again, in making this decision, were these military leaders not aware of Article 43 of the constitution, which sets out the succession procedures in case of a temporary or permanent vacancy in the presidency? If, indeed, they had knowledge of the provisions of Article 43, then why did they interfere with what should have been a constitutionally mandated succession?

The international community has called on all sides in the Burkinabé political crisis to follow “constitutionally mandated” procedures for the transfer of power. The international community (especially the African Union) is asking the Burkina Faso military not to exploit the constitutional crisis for its own benefit but to respect the desire of the majority of Burkinabé for democracy and peaceful coexistence. That, of course, calls for respect by all Burkinabé, including the military, for the constitution.

The president’s resignation in itself did not create a constitutional crisis in Burkina Faso. The Constitution of 1991 specifically anticipates the resignation or incapacitation of the president and prescribes procedures for succession. According to Article 43, if the president is temporarily incapacitated and is incapable of carrying out his or her duties, “his powers shall be provisionally exercised by the Prime Minister.” As noted above, in this particular case, where the president has resigned and created a permanent vacancy in the presidency, the constitution states that the functions of the presidency should be performed by the president of the senate. [2] The military should not have intervened—military intervention in the country’s political system actually created what is fast becoming a major constitutional crisis. The military has suspended the constitution and, without the guidance provided by it, the military is now governing the country extra-constitutionally through decrees. The military can end this unfolding crisis by restoring the constitution and handing power back to a civilian regime, led, as prescribed by their constitution, by the president of the senate. The latter will, of course, serve as a transitional head of state until elections are completed in 2015 to select a permanent president. International organizations, including especially the African Union, support this approach—on November 3, 2014, the AU issued a statement asking the Burkinabé military to exit the political system and hand power to a civilian ruler.

But what about the riots and violence that had enveloped the city of Ouagadougou and were gradually spreading to other cities? Should the army not have been called upon to quell the riots and bring about peace? In virtually all countries, including Burkina Faso, the police—not the army—should be the institution enforcing the law and maintaining order. There is no indication that military intervention was necessary to bring the rioting under control or that it actually did. Most of the people participating in the riots voluntarily stopped their activities after the president resigned and left the country.

However, what the army did was interfere with the constitutional process and in doing so, actually created this constitutional crisis—shortly after declaring himself head of state and leader of the transition, Zida suspended the constitution, as noted above. Although Zida has assured the people that the military will strive to quickly return Burkina Faso to democratic governance, such guarantees appear hollow, especially given the military’s past history of intervention—every time the Burkinabé military has intervened in politics, it has remained in power for a very long time, 27 years in the case of the Campaoré-led intervention of 1987.

Article 43 of the Constitution of Burkina Faso also states that elections should be held between 60 and 90 days after a vacancy has been declared in the presidency. Zida, who is now the de facto head of state in Burkina Faso, has stated that his would be a transitional government and that it would seek input from all stakeholders to organize and undertake democratic elections to choose a new government. However, the constitution, which would have provided the necessary guidelines for carrying out such elections, has been suspended. In addition, he has closed the country’s borders and imposed a general curfew, which severely restricts the right of citizens to live freely. Such restrictions could have a significant impact on economic activities and negatively affect what is already a relatively fragile economy. These initial draconian and extra-constitutional measures do not augur well for an early exit of the military from politics and the return of constitutional rule to the country. If history teaches us anything about the military and Burkinabé politics, it is that this military, like the one that intervened in 1987, is likely to stay in politics much longer than the 90 days needed to elect a new civilian government.

[1], [2] This is in line with the constitutional amendment of June 11, 2012 (Loi No. 033-2012/AN du 1 juin 2012).

Professor Mwangi S. Kimenyi, senior fellow and former director of the Africa Growth Initiative (AGI), passed away on Saturday, June 6, 2015, in Baltimore, Maryland.

Professor Kimenyi was the heart and soul of the Africa Growth Initiative, something that all of us care about. He believed very much in AGI’s mission, its work, and perhaps, more importantly, its people. His scholarship and work ethic were only matched by his dedication to the AGI team and the issues that we were (and are) striving to accomplish.

Professor Kimenyi not only cared about the right things, but he was also keen about addressing them and doing so in the right way, no matter how difficult or challenging. In many ways, if the world worked like this, the world would be a much better place for all of us to live. In all AGI activities, Professor Kimenyi tried to bring people together, help colleagues advance their careers, and nurture the expertise that is needed in the long term.

Professor Kimenyi dedicated himself to utilizing the resources and prestige of the Brookings Institution to enhance governance, peaceful coexistence, the protection of human rights—especially those of vulnerable groups—and economic and human development in Africa. During his short tenure at AGI and the Brookings Institution, he achieved a lot. Through his leadership and thanks to the generosity of the Brookings Institution, AGI has contributed significantly to the improvement of the policy environment in Africa, as well as to a better understanding of African issues by U.S. policymakers.

Professor Kimenyi was an accomplished man: Before he came to AGI and Brookings, Professor Kimenyi was a professor at the University of Mississippi and the University of Connecticut. He was the founding executive director of the Kenya Institute for Public Policy Research and Analysis (KIPPRA, 1999-2005); a resource person with the African Economic Research Consortium (AERC); and a research associate with the Center for the Study of African Economies, University of Oxford. Professor Kimenyi earned his undergraduate degree from the University of Nairobi (Kenya), and completed graduate work at Ohio University and George Mason University. He received a Ph.D. in economics  from the Center for Study of Public Choice at George Mason University in 1986.

Through his research, he sought to enhance governance and economic development in Africa. He was especially interested in poverty reduction, pro-poor economic growth, and peaceful coexistence on the continent. He authored or co-edited eight books, many policy monographs, and several chapters in edited volumes. He also published many papers in refereed journals.

Professor Kimenyi was also the recipient of many honors and awards, including the Outstanding Research Award (2001) from the Global Development Network, and the Georgescu-Roegen Prize in Economics (1991). He was recognized by the Senate and House of Representatives of the State of Mississippi for his work on the public transit system. In 1994, Professor Kimenyi was named by Policy Review (Washington, D.C.) among the top 10 young market economists in the United States. During his tenure as the executive director of KIPPRA, the institute was ranked the top policy institution in Africa and was recognized as an international center of excellence.

At KIPPRA, he believed in and promoted excellence, leading the institute from its founding in 1999 to Africa’s premier research and policy institution by the time he left in 2005. KIPPRA remains an important and influential source of policy advice for Kenya and the region, thanks to the solid foundation laid by Professor Kimenyi.

He was not afraid to criticize or be controversial when he believed that something important needed to be said. In many of the blogs that he wrote about policy issues in Africa, for example, he challenged President Obama and his administration to take a more active part in Africa. He rebuked the government of South Sudan for its decision to ban all foreign workers from the country and replace them with nationals—a decision that Professor Kimenyi argued would undermine badly needed foreign investment. Nevertheless, in seeking to hold governments accountable, Professor Kimenyi was professional, respectful, and polite.

Despite his extraordinary professional and academic accomplishments, Professor Kimenyi was humble, extremely kind, and loyal to his friends and colleagues. I have worked very closely with Professor Kimenyi on projects in Africa since 1986, and have often been taken aback by the patient and kind manner in which Professor Kimenyi treated young scholars who approached him and asked him to help them further their education or research.

I can recall a particularly memorable incident at Mount Kenya in 2002: We were at the Mount Kenya Lodge to consult with then-vice president of Kenya, Professor George Saitoti, who was working on his vision for holistic development in Africa. While we were eating breakfast, a couple of young people recognized Professor Kimenyi and came to talk to him about their plans for graduate school. He patiently talked to each one of them, gathered as much information from them, gave each person that he talked to his business card, and promised to contact them once he had an opportunity to research their issues further. Despite the fact that his breakfast was going cold, he calmly advised these young people and told them that it was important that they remained hopeful because they held the future of Kenya in their hands. He was truly inspiring. Of course, during nearly 30 years of friendship with me, he remained a loyal and supportive friend to me and my family.

There is no question that Professor Kimenyi was a talented and well-regarded economist. Nevertheless, his colleagues, students, and the many people whom he worked with and whose lives he touched will remember him more for his kindness, warmth, and willingness to mentor younger scholars.

Professor Kimenyi’s untimely passing is a great loss, not only to his colleagues and friends at AGI, but also to the many scholars whom he has mentored in Africa and around the world. He will be greatly missed, not only at AGI, but also at the many institutions that he has worked with to improve economic and human development in Africa.

Our thoughts and prayers are with his family. May his soul rest in peace.

During the 27th Heads of State Assembly of the African Union (AU) meeting in Kigali, Rwanda, from July 17-18, 2016, the heads of state were supposed to elect individuals to lead the AU for the next four years. One of the most important functions that the delegates were expected to perform was to elect the chairperson of the AU Commission to replace the present chairperson, South Africa’s Dr. Nkosazana Dlamini Zuma, who had indicated that she would not seek re-election.

Three candidates were standing for the position of chairperson of the AU Commission. These were Dr. Pelonomi Venson-Moitoi, foreign minister of Botswana, Dr. Specioza Waigaga Wandira Kazibwe, former vice president of Uganda, and Mr. Agapito Mba Mokuy, foreign minister of Equatorial Guinea. There was great expectation that the election of any one of these three candidates would significantly advance gender and regional balance, with respect to key leadership positions in continental institutions. Hence, the election of either one of the two female candidates would have been welcomed by supporters of gender balance. However, if the delegates had opted for Mr. Mokuy, such a choice would have been welcomed by the Spanish-speaking community, as well as the continent’s smaller and historically marginalized states. Given the fact that the outgoing chairperson of the AU Commission, Dr. Zuma, is a woman, the hope within the central African community was that Mr. Mokuy would emerge victorious and represent the region, as well as serve as a sign of hope for the heretofore marginalized regions.

Reports from Kigali are that the election for the chairperson has been postponed until January 2017. It is reported that the AU took that decision based on the fact that none of the three candidates had secured the two-thirds majority of votes needed to win. During the election’s first round, Dr. Venson-Moitoi received 16 votes, Mr. Mokuy received 12 votes, and Dr. Kazibwe received 11 votes. 

Those who abstained from voting claimed that the candidates were not qualified to lead the commission.

After receiving the least votes in the first round, Dr. Kazibwe withdrew from the competition. That left Dr. Venson-Moitoi and Mr. Mokuy to compete for the position. Although Dr. Venson-Moitoi garnered 23 votes in the next round, that number was less than the 36 votes to constitute the two-thirds majority needed to emerge victorious.

Part of the reason for this quagmire, as the news from Kigali is indicating, is that as many as 15 heads of state abstained from voting in the first round of the competition and that in the second round, 20 acted similarly. These many abstentions derailed the process and made certain that none of the remaining candidates would emerge victorious.

While these may be legitimate issues to raise, one wonders why these issues were not raised and fully resolved before the delegates actually assembled in Kigali.

Indeed, the AU assembly chair, President Idriss Déby of Chad, cited the boycott as a deciding factor in the failure of any of the three candidates to secure the necessary votes to win. He then announced that the elections had been postponed until January 2017 and that the heads of state had opened up the contest to more candidates—a decision that appears to be a slap in the face of the current candidates. Notably, this appears to support the Economic Community of West African States (ECOWAS) bloc’s pre-election petition that the elections be postponed because, as they argued, none of the candidates was qualified to lead. That petition, however, had been previously denied.

President Déby argued, in his post-election proclamation, that the delay would provide candidates and their respective regions with the time to adequately prepare for the elections in January 2017. What appears to be implied by this declaration is that preparations for the failed July elections were inadequate and that with this extra time, the type of behavior exhibited by some representatives during the recently concluded elections would not occur in January. However, unless the AU puts in place rules to prevent such an eventuality, there is no guarantee that January 2017’s elections would not be marred by such last-minute maneuvering again. What is to prevent other blocs from engaging in similar strategic behavior (i.e., boycotting the election) in order to promote their own candidates for the various leadership positions in the commission?

Nevertheless, the AU is a continental organization, and no country or region should be allowed to dominate and monopolize leadership positions in its institutions.

Those who abstained from voting claimed that the candidates were not qualified to lead the commission. Dr. Kazibwe’s candidacy was questioned on the grounds that she was previously convicted of abusing state funds. Mr. Mokuy was taken to task for his country’s human rights record, while Dr. Venson-Moitoi’s candidacy was questioned because her home country, Botswana, has often taken positions that are contrary to those of many other AU members, notably on the issue of Africa’s relations with the International Criminal Court.

While these may be legitimate issues to raise, one wonders why these issues were not raised and fully resolved before the delegates actually assembled in Kigali. Certainly, the AU must have mechanisms to vet individuals who are nominated for leadership positions in its institutions to determine their fit for office. During such a vetting process, groups and individuals within the AU can make known their objections to candidates that they believe are not qualified to perform the jobs for which they are being nominated. Of course, such a vetting process must be governed by rules chosen in an earlier period such as those presented in The Statutes of the Commission of the African Union, which provide information on the minimum qualifications and experience of the commissioners. Hence, any challenge to the qualifications of an individual running to serve on the commission should begin with and be governed by such rules.

Once candidates have been fully vetted and determined to meet the minimum qualifications to stand for the positions for which they have been nominated, no head of state (i.e., elector) should boycott the voting. Of course, it is not surprising that electors would prefer to vote for candidates from either their own countries or region. Nevertheless, the AU is a continental organization, and no country or region should be allowed to dominate and monopolize leadership positions in its institutions. Hence, the AU Commission’s leadership must reflect the continent’s diversity, with specific emphasis on gender and geographic balance. Efforts by heads of state or blocs (e.g., ECOWAS) to engage in last minute strategic maneuvering (e.g., boycotting of elections) in order to secure certain political advantages should be discouraged. Such opportunistic behavior can seriously undermine the AU’s electoral system and place the organization in a very precarious position. In fact, one could argue that the outcome of the July 2016 commission elections in Kigali betray an organization that appears to be adrift and without proper leadership and one that is not willing to follow its own rules.  

In fact, one could argue that the outcome of the July 2016 commission elections in Kigali betray an organization that appears to be adrift and without proper leadership and one that is not willing to follow its own rules.

As the AU looks forward, it must make certain that no voting bloc within the organization is allowed to grant itself the power to derail the electoral process. Such opportunism and capriciousness on the part of any group within the AU can prevent the deepening and institutionalization of democratic principles within the organization and effectively hold hostage the interests of the continent to those of a smaller group or region.

Thus, the process through which the member states of the African Union choose individuals to serve in and manage their institutions must be competitive and based on democratic principles. The AU should learn a lesson from what happened in Kigali and put legal mechanisms in place to deal fully and effectively with any future efforts by groups, individuals, and factions to engage in any behavior that can frustrate the functioning of the organization and its institutions. Perhaps the failure of the AU to anticipate such behavior is due to its inexperience. Nevertheless, the organization must provide itself with the wherewithal to prevent this type of stalemate. For, come January, another region may, at the last minute, register its dissatisfaction with all candidates and seek to replace them.

If the AU is to teach member states the principles of good governance, it must first put its own house in order and lead by example.

As the AU looks forward to the January 2017 round of elections, Senegalese politician and diplomat, Abdoulaye Bathily, has already indicated his interest in competing for the position of chairperson of the AU Commission. To avoid the problems that were encountered by the electoral process in Kigali, he, his country, and his region should commence the formal nomination process in order to provide all interested parties with the opportunity to properly vet his candidacy and determine his fit for office. In fact, other candidates who are planning to stand for the elections in January 2017 should also have themselves formally nominated as soon as possible so that the vetting process can be completed and a final list of qualified candidates agreed before the delegates meet in January 2017.

If the AU is to teach member states the principles of good governance, it must first put its own house in order and lead by example. It must, for example, make its electoral decisions through a democratic and competitive process. It must be governed by the rule of law in order for it to stand as a beacon of light for the many countries in the continent that are trying to deepen and institutionalize democracy. Unless the AU puts into place mechanisms to deal with the types of behaviors that derailed the commission elections in Kigali in July 2016, it risks descending into a quagmire from which it might not get out uninjured.