On November 3, 2025, a crowd gathered outside Guinea’s Supreme Court in Conakry, their chants echoing down the city’s streets. Inside, General Mamady Doumbouya, the country’s military leader since a coup four years ago, quietly submitted his candidacy for the upcoming presidential election, scheduled for December 28. This moment, charged with both anticipation and controversy, marks a dramatic twist in Guinea’s turbulent political saga.
Doumbouya’s decision to run is nothing short of seismic for the West African nation. When he seized power in September 2021, ousting then-President Alpha Condé, Doumbouya pledged a swift return to civilian rule and, crucially, promised that neither he nor any member of his transitional government would seek office. As reported by BBC News, he declared, “Neither I nor any member of this transition will be a candidate for anything... As soldiers, we value our word very much.” That promise, once a cornerstone of his legitimacy, now lies broken.
The path to Doumbouya’s candidacy was paved by a new constitution, approved in a national referendum in September 2025. According to Reuters, this constitution replaced previous arrangements that explicitly barred members of the junta from running for president. Now, candidates must be between 40 and 80 years old and reside in Guinea—a provision that conveniently excludes former president Alpha Condé, now 87 and living abroad, as well as ex-prime minister Cellou Dalein Diallo, 73, who is also in exile.
For many Guineans, the constitutional changes and Doumbouya’s reversal feel like a betrayal. The opposition coalition Forces Vives, along with other groups such as the Living Forces of Guinea alliance, have denounced his candidacy. “This is a setback for democracy,” a spokesperson for the coalition told AFP. Critics argue that the reforms were engineered to legitimize Doumbouya’s continued rule, undermining the very democratic transition he once championed.
The election is shaping up to be anything but a level playing field. While about ten candidates have submitted their applications, two of the country’s largest opposition parties, RPG Arc en Ciel and UFDG, have been excluded from the contest. This, as The Guardian notes, has raised serious concerns about the credibility of the upcoming vote. The Supreme Court is set to review all candidate applications and will publish the official list by November 13.
Other notable contenders include former prime minister Lansana Kouyate and ex-minister Ousmane Kaba, as well as former foreign minister Hadja Makale Camara. Yet with key opposition figures like Diallo and Sidya Touré living abroad, the field appears tilted in Doumbouya’s favor. His government’s recent moves to establish a new electoral commission—whose leaders are appointed by decree—have only heightened suspicions of a tightly managed process.
Adding to the barriers for would-be challengers, candidates must pay a hefty deposit of 875 million Guinean francs (about $100,000) to enter the race. According to BBC News, this figure shocked many Guineans, who had hoped for a reduction to encourage broader participation in what was billed as a historic election.
Under Doumbouya’s rule, Guinea has seen a marked decline in civil liberties. The junta has cracked down on peaceful dissent, suspended media outlets, restricted internet access, and brutally suppressed demonstrations. These actions, as reported by The Guardian, have drawn sharp criticism from both domestic and international observers. Ironically, Doumbouya justified his 2021 coup by citing similar abuses—corruption, disregard for human rights, and economic mismanagement—under the previous regime.
Guinea’s political instability is nothing new. The country of 14.5 million, rich in natural resources like bauxite and iron ore, has endured a string of coups and authoritarian regimes since gaining independence. There was a brief democratic opening following Alpha Condé’s election in 2010, but hopes for lasting reform have repeatedly been dashed by power struggles and broken promises.
Doumbouya, now 40, is one of Africa’s youngest heads of state. Before his rise to power, he was a middle-ranking officer with a 15-year military career that included international missions in Afghanistan, Ivory Coast, Djibouti, the Central African Republic, and stints in close protection roles in Israel, Cyprus, the UK, and Guinea. His rapid ascent and current bid for the presidency underscore the unpredictable nature of Guinea’s political landscape.
Government spokesman Ousmane Gaoual Diallo confirmed Doumbouya’s candidacy, stating, “He is running to tell the people of Guinea he wants their trust to lead the country for the next seven years.” The new constitution extends presidential terms from five to seven years, meaning a victory could see Doumbouya at the helm until at least 2032.
The regional context is also worth noting. Guinea’s experience mirrors a broader trend in West Africa, where military coups have disrupted democratic governance in countries like Mali, Niger, and Burkina Faso. In each case, promises of a swift return to civilian rule have given way to extended military control, raising alarms about the future of democracy in the region.
Guinea’s mineral wealth adds another layer of complexity. The country boasts the world’s largest bauxite reserves and the richest untapped iron ore deposit at Simandou. Whoever wins the December election will wield enormous influence over these assets, which are critical to both the national economy and international markets.
The stakes for Guinea’s December 28 election are high. For Doumbouya, it is a chance to legitimize his rule through the ballot box, despite the cloud of broken promises and alleged manipulation. For the opposition and civil society, it is a test of whether Guinea can reclaim its democratic aspirations or remain mired in a cycle of military dominance.
As the Supreme Court prepares to finalize the list of candidates and the campaign season looms, Guineans—and the world—are watching closely. The outcome will not only determine the country’s immediate future but could also signal the direction of governance across West Africa for years to come.
With the echoes of Doumbouya’s earlier pledge still fresh in many minds, the question remains: will Guinea’s next chapter be written by the will of its people, or by the designs of those in uniform?
