Introduction: Power, Fear, and the Future of South Sudan
South Sudan’s political story since independence has been marked by hope, betrayal, and violent fragmentation. At the center of this narrative stands President Salva Kiir Mayardit, often portrayed by critics as a tribal strongman whose rule is sustained less by popular consent than by fear, militarization, and ethnic patronage. Understanding why such a leader remains in power is essential to imagining a more stable and inclusive future for the country.
The Roots of a Tribal Presidency
To grasp the persistence of Kiir’s rule, it is important to look beyond individual personality and trace the deeper patterns of governance that allowed a tribal-based presidency to flourish. South Sudan emerged from decades of war with fragile institutions, traumatized communities, and leaders who were more familiar with the logic of the battlefield than with democratic negotiation.
Instead of building neutral state structures, the early post-independence years saw the consolidation of power in the hands of a narrow circle. Positions in government, the army, and the security services frequently mirrored ethnic loyalties, with appointments and promotions often interpreted through the lens of tribe rather than competence or integrity. In this context, the presidency became less an office for all South Sudanese and more a prize captured by one group and defended at all costs.
Militarization and the Politics of Fear
Authoritarian systems rarely survive on loyalty alone. They rely on fear—fear of violence, fear of marginalization, fear of losing access to basic resources. In South Sudan, recurring conflict has entrenched the idea that safety can be guaranteed only by holding tight to power, arming loyalists, and suppressing opposition.
The presence of armed groups aligned with specific ethnic communities has deepened mistrust and made genuine reconciliation more difficult. The more the state is associated with one tribe, the more other communities see it as a threat rather than a neutral arbiter. This spiral of fear encourages leaders to double down on coercive tactics, including arbitrary arrests, intimidation of journalists and activists, and the violent crushing of dissent. Stability is promised, but what emerges instead is a fragile calm resting on constant repression.
Ethnic Patronage and the Erosion of National Identity
Tribal patronage is one of the most powerful tools available to a leader seeking to stay in office. Jobs, contracts, positions in the security services, and access to state resources are often distributed through informal ethnic networks. For those who benefit, the system can seem like protection; for those excluded, it is a daily reminder that the state does not serve them.
This pattern weakens any sense of shared national identity. Citizens gradually lose faith that they are equal before the law or that public institutions exist for the common good. Elections, when they occur, may be formally competitive, but in practice they are often reduced to ethnic headcounts, where people vote based on fear of losing out rather than trust in policies or principles. The result is a fragile legitimacy that depends on continued patronage and the absence of credible alternatives.
Silencing Critics and Controlling the Narrative
Any government that rules via ethnic favoritism and coercion must also control the story told about its actions. In South Sudan, critical voices—from journalists and writers to community leaders and religious figures—have frequently faced intimidation, censorship, or worse. When peaceful criticism is branded as treason or tribal incitement, public debate shrinks and citizens are pushed into silence or exile.
Yet criticism is not the same as hatred, and dissent is not the same as disloyalty. Societies heal when they are able to confront painful truths, including abuses by those in power. Attempts to label all opposition as tribal or anti-national are themselves a form of manipulation, designed to blur the line between the leader and the nation. This strategy keeps a president in power but leaves the country divided, suspicious, and unable to address the root causes of its crises.
Who Benefits from Keeping a Tribal President in Power?
Understanding why a controversial leader remains in office requires asking who benefits from the status quo. In South Sudan, the beneficiaries are not only the president and his immediate circle. A wider network of elites—political, military, and economic—often profit from weak institutions and personalized rule.
- Political elites who gain access to ministries, governorships, and influential posts may hesitate to challenge the system that sustains their privileges.
- Military commanders sometimes enjoy broad autonomy within their regions, controlling resources and local populations in exchange for declared loyalty to the presidency.
- Business interests can thrive in environments with limited transparency, where personal connections matter more than regulations or the rule of law.
Ordinary citizens, meanwhile, pay the price in insecurity, displacement, poverty, and disrupted lives. Their interests are rarely aligned with the preservation of an ethnic strongman, but their voices are the easiest to ignore, especially when democratic institutions are weak or captured.
The Human Cost: Displacement, Trauma, and Broken Communities
Behind every political slogan and speech lies a human reality. Years of conflict have left millions of South Sudanese displaced within their own country or forced to seek refuge abroad. Families are separated, livelihoods destroyed, and entire communities uprooted by violence that is often framed in ethnic terms but driven by competition for power and resources.
Trauma is not just physical; it is psychological and generational. Children who grow up in camps or conflict zones learn to associate certain uniforms, accents, or tribal names with danger. Trust between communities, once damaged, takes far longer to rebuild than it did to break. The longer a tribalized system of rule persists, the deeper these divisions become, making reconciliation a more complex and fragile project.
The Role of Regional and International Actors
Regional and international actors have not been passive spectators. Neighboring states, regional organizations, and global powers have alternated between mediating peace deals and pursuing their own strategic interests. At times, external pressure has helped prevent the worst forms of escalation; at other times, competing agendas and limited follow-through have allowed abusive practices to continue with little consequence.
Sanctions, arms embargoes, and diplomatic pressure can shape the behavior of political elites, but they are not a substitute for genuine domestic reform. Where external actors engage selectively—criticizing certain abuses while tolerating others that align with their interests—they inadvertently reinforce the perception that power, not principle, governs political life. This, in turn, strengthens the hand of leaders who present themselves as indispensable, however controversial their rule.
Pathways Toward Accountability and Inclusive Governance
Moving beyond a tribal-focused presidency requires both structural and cultural shifts. It is not enough to change a single individual; what must change are the incentives and institutions that make exclusionary rule possible. Several interlinked steps are essential:
- Strengthening institutions: An independent judiciary, a professional civil service, and a non-partisan security sector are critical to countering personalized power.
- Constitutional clarity: Clear limits on executive authority, term limits, and checks and balances can reduce the risk of power being concentrated in one office.
- Ethnic inclusion in governance: Mechanisms that guarantee participation for all major communities in national decision-making can reduce the fear of exclusion.
- Transitional justice: Credible processes to investigate atrocities, acknowledge victims, and hold perpetrators accountable—regardless of rank or tribe—are vital for long-term peace.
- Protection of free expression: Allowing journalists, activists, and ordinary citizens to speak openly without fear is the only way to build a political culture based on debate rather than intimidation.
These reforms are difficult, especially where entrenched elites benefit from the current system. But without them, any change in leadership risks becoming a simple reshuffling of faces rather than a true transformation in how power is exercised.
From Tribal Politics to Shared Citizenship
South Sudan’s struggle is not unique. Many countries emerging from war confront the temptation to fall back on identity politics, using tribe, religion, or region to mobilize supporters and isolate opponents. Yet history shows that sustainable peace and prosperity are built when citizens come to see themselves first as members of a shared political community, not as clients of a particular ethnic patron.
Building this sense of shared citizenship requires practical changes in daily life: equitable access to education, healthcare, and economic opportunity; fair distribution of national resources; and public symbols and narratives that celebrate diversity instead of weaponizing it. When people experience the state as a source of common goods rather than a tool for tribal advancement, the appeal of ethnic strongmen begins to diminish.
Conclusion: Rethinking Power in South Sudan
Keeping a leader in power through fear, tribal patronage, and militarization may preserve the status quo for a time, but it does not build a durable nation. South Sudan’s future depends on whether its people, leaders, and allies can imagine a different model of authority—one rooted in accountability, inclusion, and the rule of law.
Criticizing a president whose rule is seen as tribal and abusive is not an attack on the nation; it is a plea for a better one. The measure of progress will not be the survival of any single leader, but the emergence of a political order in which no leader, whatever their tribe, can hold the country hostage. That transformation is difficult, but it is the only path toward a South Sudan where power serves people, not the other way around.