In Niamey, the capital of Niger, the ruling military junta has taken another decisive step toward entrenching its hold on power, proposing a three-year transition to civilian rule that has raised alarm bells across West Africa. The announcement, delivered at a weekend rally packed with supporters and soldiers, appears to put a final nail in the coffin of any short-term democratic restoration hopes after last year’s coup d’état.
It’s been just over a year since President Mohamed Bazoum, elected in 2021 in Niger’s first peaceful democratic transition, was overthrown and placed under house arrest by his own presidential guard. Now, as the Economic Community of West African States (ECOWAS) eases off its threat of military intervention, the junta led by General Abdourahamane Tchiani is turning its attention to institutionalizing its rule.
What does a “three-year transition” really mean in the context of a junta that has suspended the constitution, cracked down on dissent, and aligned itself increasingly with Moscow? For many Nigeriens and international observers, it sounds a lot like open-ended military control.
The announcement came as the junta organized a high-profile event it called a “National Dialogue,” inviting tribal chiefs, civil society representatives, and loyal religious leaders. But opposition parties, independent journalists, and Bazoum’s party—the PNDS—were nowhere in sight. That absence underscored what many critics describe as a façade of consensus designed to legitimize authoritarian control.
“The so-called transition is a fig leaf,” said Rakiatou Abdoul Moumouni, a Niamey-based lawyer and democracy activist. “The generals are not preparing to hand power back. They’re just making their grip look cleaner and more palatable to the outside world.”
The junta’s latest move also deepens the rupture between Niger and the West. Since the coup, the United States and European Union have suspended most development aid and military cooperation. France, which once had over 1,500 troops in Niger as part of its Sahel counterterrorism operations, has withdrawn entirely. In their place, Russian flags now wave at pro-junta rallies, and officials from the Wagner-linked Africa Corps have been spotted providing “security consultation” to military leaders in Niamey.
For Washington, Niger had been one of the last reliable partners in the region. The U.S. operates a $100 million drone base in Agadez, and officials have spent months trying to persuade the junta to restore democratic order and protect counterterrorism cooperation. But the longer the junta stays, the more it’s likely that American presence will shrink—or shift altogether.
ECOWAS, too, seems to be running out of leverage. After initially threatening military intervention and imposing sanctions, the regional bloc has quietly softened its stance. Burkina Faso and Mali, both now under military rule and close to Niger’s junta, warned they would consider any action against Niamey an attack on them. That threat—and the growing popularity of anti-French, pan-African nationalist rhetoric—has helped the junta weather early pressure.
At the grassroots level, opinion in Niger remains divided. While some rural communities say they feel safer under military rule—especially given rising insecurity under past civilian governments—urban professionals, students, and women’s groups have reported growing restrictions, economic stagnation, and a chilling effect on free speech.
“There’s no real plan to fix the economy or improve services,” said Mariama Issoufou, a teacher in Zinder. “Just uniforms and speeches and arrests.”
Meanwhile, Bazoum remains under house arrest in his residence, reportedly without access to adequate medical care. His appeals to ECOWAS and the United Nations have largely fallen on deaf ears. Diplomats say that unless internal divisions emerge within the junta—or street protests grow beyond control—he is unlikely to return to power.
The junta’s timeline to return to civilian rule will not begin until at least 2026. Until then, Niger faces a prolonged period of uncertainty. Foreign investment has dried up, basic goods are becoming more expensive due to sanctions and currency instability, and the risk of spillover violence from jihadist groups on its borders with Mali, Burkina Faso, and Nigeria continues to rise.
International observers now fear that the junta’s roadmap will serve as a blueprint for military regimes elsewhere in the region—especially if the world fails to push back. “Niger may be the bellwether,” said one ECOWAS official speaking anonymously. “If the generals get away with this, the message is clear: coups work, and democracy can wait.”
