The streets of Abidjan, Ivory Coast’s bustling economic capital, erupted in tension on Saturday, October 11, 2025, as police cracked down on a banned opposition protest, arresting at least 237 people and firing tear gas to disperse crowds. The demonstration, organized by a coalition of opposition parties, was a direct response to what activists and critics are calling the country’s slide toward authoritarianism—an accusation that has gained traction in the run-up to a fiercely contested presidential election scheduled for October 25.
According to reporting from the Associated Press and corroborated by state-run RTI, Interior and Security Minister Gen. Vagondo Diomandé announced on national television that those arrested included women and youths. The sweep came after authorities had declared all marches prohibited on the eve of the protest, citing the need to preserve public order during the volatile campaign period.
“All these people will be held accountable for their actions,” Diomandé stated, insisting that the protest was illegal. The authorities’ heavy-handed approach was evident well before sunrise, as security forces sealed off key roads, set up barricades, and patrolled the city on foot. Despite this, determined demonstrators managed to gather in pockets throughout Abidjan, chanting slogans such as “We don’t want a fourth mandate!”—a direct rebuke of President Alassane Ouattara’s controversial bid for a fourth term in office.
Witnesses described chaotic scenes as police launched tear gas and moved in to arrest protesters. Some journalists attempting to cover the event were also detained, with their cameras confiscated and images deleted, according to reports from AFP and RFI. One woman could be heard screaming, “What did I do? What did I do?” as officers attempted to arrest her. The crackdown did little to dampen the opposition’s resolve. Honoré N’guessan, a protester, openly questioned the march ban, while another demonstrator, who identified as a supporter of the Democratic Party of Côte d’Ivoire (PDCI) and banned candidate Tidjane Thiam, voiced her determination before being swept up by police.
The protest was called in defiance of sweeping government bans on rallies and meetings, which were imposed earlier in the month after the electoral commission disqualified several prominent opposition figures—including former President Laurent Gbagbo and ex–Credit Suisse CEO Tidjane Thiam—from running in the upcoming election. These disqualifications have fueled widespread anger and accusations that President Ouattara, who has ruled since 2010, is consolidating power through constitutional manipulation. The 83-year-old leader’s decision to seek a fourth term follows a 2016 constitutional revision that lifted term limits—a move that has drawn sharp criticism both at home and abroad.
“Alassane Ouattara is not the choice of the Ivorians. We are not in a democracy; we are under a dictatorial regime,” one activist told AFP, speaking on condition of anonymity. Another woman, her voice heavy with fatigue, said: “I came to demonstrate this morning because I’m tired of this country. His time has come, he just has to leave.”
In the aftermath of the protest, the Common Front—a coalition uniting the two main opposition parties—announced in a joint statement seen by AFP that “demonstrations for democracy, justice, and peace will continue every day across the country until the demands for political dialogue are met.” Both Gbagbo and Thiam’s parties reported numerous injuries among protesters and reaffirmed their “firm determination not to be intimidated or distracted by the regime’s brutal repression.” Simon Doho, head of Thiam’s PDCI in parliament, called the arrests “arbitrary” and warned they posed “a serious risk to the stability of the country.” He added, “What we want for our country is democracy, freedom of expression, to vote, the participation of all candidates, and transparent elections.”
The government, for its part, has defended its actions on the grounds of maintaining public order. The prefect of Abidjan declared all marches prohibited during the campaign period, and authorities have repeatedly justified the bans and crackdowns as necessary to prevent violence. President Ouattara himself has argued that his experience is needed to confront what he describes as “unprecedented security, economic and monetary challenges” facing the nation. Addressing supporters at a campaign rally in Daloa, Ouattara declared, “I love this Côte d’Ivoire that unites women and men from different communities.” Rally spokesperson Mamadou Toure, speaking at the same event, urged citizens to “vote for stability, peace, and continuity.”
Yet the current political climate is anything but peaceful. The memory of violent clashes from previous elections—particularly when Ouattara pursued a third term—still lingers, with fatalities and unrest haunting the collective consciousness. The exclusion of key opposition leaders from the ballot has only deepened divisions. In the upcoming vote, Ouattara will face former ministers Jean-Louis Billon and Ahoua Don Mello, former first lady Simone Ehivet Gbagbo, and Henriette Lagou, who previously ran for president in 2015. But for many Ivorians, the absence of heavyweights like Gbagbo and Thiam has sapped the contest of its legitimacy.
Beyond the immediate political turmoil, Ivory Coast faces mounting security threats. Over the past decade, insurgent groups linked to al-Qaida and the Islamic State have expanded southward from the Sahel into wealthier coastal countries, including Ivory Coast, Togo, and Benin. Analysts warn that instability in the region could intensify as election tensions rise, making the stakes of this year’s vote even higher. The government’s forceful response to opposition protests, coupled with the exclusion of major candidates, has raised concerns among international observers about the country’s democratic trajectory and the risk of further unrest.
On Sunday, October 12, the opposition doubled down, calling for daily protests until their demands for political dialogue are met. The Common Front’s announcement signals a prolonged standoff, one that could test the resilience of Ivory Coast’s institutions and its people’s patience. Meanwhile, in cities like Daloa, Ouattara’s supporters rallied in the rain, undeterred by the storm clouds—literal and metaphorical—gathering over their country.
As the presidential election approaches, Ivory Coast stands at a crossroads. The coming days will reveal whether calls for democracy and inclusion can overcome the forces of division and repression—or whether the cycle of confrontation and exclusion will continue to define the nation’s political landscape.
