“Power Without Principle: The Undoing of Tanzania’s Democracy-When the Bench Bent, the Nation Broke.”
By Elvis Ng’andwe
When Mwalimu Julius Nyerere led Tanzania, he did so with a rare humility that bound the nation together. He was a leader who walked among his people without fear, not because of security forces or armoured convoys, but because he was genuinely loved. Nyerere’s leadership was built on simplicity, integrity, and an unshakeable belief in the dignity of the ordinary Tanzanian.
He founded Chama Cha Mapinduzi (CCM) to serve the common person, the mwananchi. “If CCM ever stops serving the people,” Nyerere once said, “I will leave it and join another party.” These words reflected a moral compass that defined the nation’s early years.
Nyerere voluntarily stepped down, handing power to Ali Hassan Mwinyi, an act of selflessness rare on the continent. His gesture became a living lesson in leadership as service, not privilege.
In 1995, Tanzania embraced multiparty democracy for the first time. Benjamin Mkapa, CCM’s candidate, won that election, and the party has remained in power ever since independence. Every five years, Tanzanians have gone to the polls, 2000, 2005, 2010, 2015, 2020 and now 2025, the nation once again stands at the threshold of another election. Yet today, the mood is different.
For the first time in decades, the spirit of Tanzanian tolerance and peace is cracking. Protests are erupting. People are angry. And one must ask, why now?
For the first time since independence, Tanzanians are no longer patient. Protests are spreading, and the once-peaceful political landscape is trembling. The question is: why now?
The answer lies in broken trust. The people have lost confidence in the very state institutions that were meant to protect them.
Under President Samia Suluhu Hassan, “Mama Samia”, as she is affectionately known, Tanzania’s democratic promise has dimmed. Opposition leaders have been harassed, jailed, and silenced under charges that many observers describe as politically motivated.
Among the most shocking was the imprisonment of opposition figures on vague accusations such as “illegal assembly” or “incitement to violence.” These were not violent agitators; they were citizens demanding accountability. Leaders of CHADEMA and ACT-Wazalendo found themselves behind bars for simply exercising constitutional freedoms. When citizens see their leaders criminalized for dissent, they read the message clearly: the state no longer tolerates disagreement.
The assault on democracy extended beyond Tanzania’s borders. In a stunning diplomatic episode, several delegates from the East African legal fraternity, including lawyers from Kenya, were detained and deported when they came to observe or engage with local civil society. Such actions humiliate not only the individuals involved but also the East African Community as a whole. It sends a message that Tanzania has turned inward, fearful of scrutiny and allergic to transparency.
Even the voice of the Church, long a moral compass for Tanzanian society, has been dismissed. The Catholic Bishops Conference issued a pastoral letter warning the government against silencing dissent and ignoring the cries of the poor. They urged leaders to respect constitutional rights, to engage in dialogue, and to remember that power is service. Yet their message fell on deaf ears. Priests and church leaders who spoke out were intimidated, some even physically attacked. When a government turns its hostility toward the altar, it reveals how far it has drifted from its moral foundation.
But perhaps the deepest betrayal has come from the judiciary. The courts, which should serve as the last line of defense for democracy, have instead become instruments of convenience. Instead of protecting the Constitution, they have been used to legitimize the persecution of political opponents. 
A healthy democracy depends on an independent judiciary, one that can stand firm even when power trembles. Tanzania could take a lesson from across its northern border, in Kenya. In 2017, Chief Justice David Maraga made history when he nullified the presidential election, citing irregularities and unconstitutional practices. It was a bold, principled decision that reaffirmed the supremacy of law over political expediency. Maraga showed that a single court, guided by conscience, can restore a nation’s faith in justice. That act inspired confidence not just in Kenya but across the region.
Tanzania’s courts, by contrast, have chosen silence and submission over courage. When citizens no longer believe that the courts will protect them, they take to the streets. That is not lawlessness; it is desperation.
“The judiciary’s betrayal is Tanzania’s deepest wound, for when the courts bow to power, the people have no refuge but the streets.”
I have lived in Tanzania between 2002 and 2008, and again from 2017 to 2023. I have never seen Tanzanians this angry or disillusioned. This is a nation that once took pride in its peace and moderation. But peace without justice is merely the silence of the oppressed.
When Mama Samia ascended to the presidency after John Magufuli’s death, she carried the hopes of a weary nation. I was present at her inauguration, I remember the songs, the smiles, the hope. We believed a mother had come to heal the wounds of her children. But power is a dangerous elixir. Surrounded by praise singers and political opportunists, she lost her way.
Today, CCM, once Nyerere’s noble experiment in unity, has become a gatekeeper of privilege. For the first time in decades, there was no full party convention to choose its flag bearer. Instead, Mama Samia was hastily endorsed by the National Executive Committee, without the internal debate or grassroots participation that once defined the party. It was a betrayal not just of democracy, but of the party’s very soul.
When people began burning electoral materials and refusing to wait for results, it was not because they despised elections, it was because they no longer trusted the process. They had watched the judiciary bend, the police repress, and the ruling party manipulate.
Tanzania stands at a moral and political crossroads. It can choose to rebuild its institutions, to restore trust, and to revive Nyerere’s dream of servant leadership, or it can continue down the path of repression and decay.
Africa, oh Mama Africa, when will we learn that power without principle is the fastest road to ruin?
“The same people who once sang for Mama now chant for justice, and history will remember which song she answered.” “Africa’s children are not asking for much, only that power remembers it was meant to serve, not to rule.”
