The romance between Africa’s military strongmen and the civilian populaces that cheer them into power is ending in a predictable, brutal divorce. Burkina Faso’s recent dissolution of all political parties is the latest chapter in a grim continental saga where liberators swiftly morph into absolute dictators.

When the tanks roll in, the streets often fill with jubilant crowds tired of corrupt democracies. But as the dust settles, the very groups that provided the junta with legitimacy—civil society, opposition parties, and activists—find themselves in the crosshairs. Captain Ibrahim Traoré’s decree to ban political parties in Burkina Faso is not an anomaly; it is the standard operating procedure for military regimes consolidating power across the Sahel, from Mali to Guinea.

The Cycle of Buyer’s Remorse

History is repeating itself with punishing precision. In Mali, the M5-RFP coalition that championed the ouster of President Keïta has been systematically sidelined by Colonel Assimi Goïta. In Guinea, opposition leaders who once lobbied ECOWAS to go easy on the junta now languish in prison. The pattern is clear: military rulers view civilian allies as useful idiots—necessary for the initial optics of a "popular revolution" but intolerable impediments to absolute control once the palace is secured.

“Civilian groups provide crowds and legitimacy in the first days,” notes a political analyst specializing in the region. “But they quickly become inconvenient because they have their own constituencies and expectations for a transition. This independence is precisely what juntas fear.” The dissolution of parties in Ouagadougou is framed as a "restructuring," but in reality, it is a foreclosure of the civic space, concentrating all authority in the hands of a single man.

• Historical Echoes: This betrayal has deep roots. After Sudan’s 1969 coup, Gaafar Nimeiri used the Communist Party to stabilise his rule before ruthlessly crushing it within two years.
• The Vacuum: By dissolving parties, Traoré removes the only organised structures capable of holding the military accountable, effectively turning the state into a garrison.

A Warning to the Continent

The developments in Burkina Faso serve as a stark warning to other nations flirting with the idea of military intervention as a cure for democratic malaise. The initial euphoria of a coup is a narcotic that wears off quickly, leaving a hangover of repression. Support from outside the barracks may help usher in a coup, but it guarantees nothing in the new order.

As the Sahel belt tightens its grip on authoritarianism, the civilian populations are learning a harsh lesson in realpolitik: the soldier who promises to sweep away the old rot often ends up building a new prison on its ruins. For the activists and politicians who once cheered the soldiers on, the silence is now deafening.