When Mamady Doumbouya and the National Committee for Rally and Development (CNRD) seized power in Guinea in September 2021, they promised profound reforms. With bold declarations to restore justice, eradicate corruption, and return Guinea to constitutional rule, the junta initially enjoyed broad support, both nationally and internationally. It was a breath of hope in a country plagued by decades of authoritarianism and corruption.
However, these moral promises quickly gave way to a reality filled with violence, repression, censorship, and moral hypocrisy. While Doumbouya proclaimed that justice would be the “compass” of the nation, his actions betray a very different conception of morality. Like so many before him, his rise to power reveals the striking gap between lofty ideals and the brutal realities of political survival.
One of the most glaring signs of this hypocrisy is the shutdown of independent media and censorship of journalists in Guinea. By limiting press freedom, Doumbouya stifled one of the very foundations of the democracy he had vowed to restore. Numerous independent journalists who dared to criticise the regime have been intimidated, persecuted, or silenced. This is all the more ironic as the colonel had pledged to protect fundamental freedoms, including the freedom to inform. The once free press is now controlled, and any critical voice is systematically silenced.
Equally alarming is the role of silent accomplices—officials, former activists, and journalists—who support the CNRD’s repression. Those who once opposed Alpha Condé’s third term are now ministers, directors, advisers, and members of the CNT. Their transformation from defenders of democracy to accomplices of the regime’s abuses exemplifies the moral hypocrisy that plagues Guinea’s political class. Even journalists, once champions of freedom of expression, now help muzzle the independent press, ensuring that only the regime’s narrative is disseminated.
One of the most blatant examples of this hypocrisy is the regime’s disregard for the justice it had promised to uphold. The assassination of General Sadiba Koulibaly, orchestrated because he threatened Doumbouya’s power, is proof of this. These actions contradict the initial promises of transparency and fairness. By resorting to violence and fear, Doumbouya’s regime perpetuates the very abuses it claimed to eradicate.
The disappearances of activists such as Foniké Mengué and Billo Bah also illustrate the growing gap between the regime’s rhetoric and its actions. These civil society figures, who defended democracy and opposed the regime, suddenly vanished, leaving a void in Guinean society. Under Doumbouya, these dissenting voices have been silenced, while the regime continues to present itself as a defender of justice.
While his regime persecutes the press and civil society, Doumbouya also orchestrates trials against figures from the previous system, accusing them of corruption and serious crimes. Yet the same practices he condemns are increasingly visible under his own regime. Doumbouya’s close associates have been enriching themselves in the shadows, and corruption has not diminished; rather, it has expanded into the current military and political spheres. Accusing former leaders of these crimes while perpetuating the same, if not worse, abuses is nothing but pure moral hypocrisy.
In truth, Doumbouya’s administration has become a case study in moral hypocrisy. As Emmanuel Kant once said, “Moral hypocrisy is the attempt to give a semblance of virtue to something contrary to virtue itself.” By using justice to eliminate rivals while violating the very principles he espouses, Doumbouya only confirms this definition. As power becomes concentrated in the hands of a few, justice turns into a tool to eliminate political opponents, rather than a guiding principle for the nation. “The compass seems to be broken,” noted a critic, “as the ship of justice has now run aground far from our shores.”
This duplicity extends to the fight against corruption. While the CNRD publicly denounced the corruption of previous regimes, it allows some of its own members to enrich themselves. Senior officials close to Doumbouya are reportedly benefiting from their positions, thus undermining the anti-corruption agenda on which the regime was supposedly founded. Accusing others of corruption while benefiting from the same corrupt system is an act of extreme moral hypocrisy.
Even more alarming is the support from former activists for Doumbouya’s efforts to extend the transition beyond the agreed-upon deadline of December 2024. These individuals, who once championed constitutional limits and electoral fairness, are now declared supporters of extending the junta’s power. Their change in position highlights the deep moral decay within Guinea’s political elite.
John Stuart Mill warned that the moral hypocrisy of leaders not only destroys individual trust but also erodes the moral fabric of society. This reflection is particularly relevant in Guinea, where leaders have often used democratic ideals to gain or regain power, only to abandon these values once their authority is consolidated. Instead of serving the public good, power becomes a tool to satisfy personal ambitions.
What is most shocking is Doumbouya’s obsession with power, betraying his promise of a peaceful transition and stepping down after restoring constitutional order. His oath on the Quran, affirming that he would leave power, seems to hold no value. His recent actions clearly show his intent to extend his reign, despite his commitments to the Guinean people and the international community. In the end, his words are empty and deceptive.
The regime’s behavior is a classic example of moral hypocrisy, where leaders cloak themselves in the language of reform while perpetuating the abuses they once condemned. Another thinker, Alfred the Great, warned, “Power is never a good thing if the one who holds it is not a good man.” The actions of the CNRD demonstrate how power, without virtue, can become destructive.
As a Guinean critic said: “Mamadi Doumbouya is a man who does the opposite of what he says.” This hypocrisy is not just a failure of leadership; it is a deep moral collapse, a betrayal of the trust that the Guinean people had placed in him.
History will judge him, not by his words, but by the actions that followed.
Abdourahamane Diallo currently works as a geopolitical and macroeconomic scenario designer at Morgan Stanley. He is the founder of Guineans Succeeding in America (GSA), the Guinean New Generation Movement (GNGM), and recently launched L’ONG-Institut Guinéen de Formation en Leadership Politique (IGFLP) to train ethical leaders.
