Issue 106

The Death of Tanzanian Exceptionalism

Tanzania has often been dismissed as the somewhat 'sleepy' neighbour of Kenya, perceived as a more stable one-party state, unaffected by the spasms of protests and discontent of Nairobi's flawed democracy. Certainly, though Tanzania has upheld the trappings of democracy —including term limits and elections —the once-socialist ruling Chama Cha Mapinduzi (CCM) has suppressed most opposition. And so elections in Tanzania have been typically subdued affairs, with the result known well before anyone casts their ballot. That was, of course, until last month, when theperception of Tanzania as a regional bastion of stability came crashing down in brutally violent scenes over the rigged election by incumbent Samia Suluhu Hassan. Not only has it been the latest bloody expression of widespread youth discontent, but it has also cast a light on the increasingly authoritarian tactics shared by the region's unpopular regimes.

In the months leading up to the 29 October polls, President Samia Hassan had consolidated her position, jailing or barring her main opposition and clamping down on any murmurs of discontent. The few glimmers of democracy that had endured under her predecessor-- John Magufuli-- were systematically extinguished, and last month's elections were, in turn, anticipated to be a straightforward coronation. But even before Samia Hassan claimed a ridiculous 97.66% victory-- the frustrations of Tanzania's youthful population spilt onto the streets, with thousands protesting in the country's major cities. Much like Tanzania's neighbours, many youth have become grimly disenchanted with the gerontocracy of the corrupt ruling elite, coupled with the lack of economic opportunities and the cost-of-living crisis. Resentment had been fuelled by the rising food and gas prices, in contrast with the elite's capture of the profitable extractive sectors, such as thehydrocarbon projects in Lindi and Mtwara, and gold mining in Geita. And so, despite its exceptionalist reputation for calm, the rigging of the national election was so blatant that it appeared to be simply one step too far for many thousands of Tanzanians.

Samia Hassan was leaving nothing to chance for her second term, jailing, barring, or disappearing any serious contenders to the election this year. Pre-eminent was Tundu Lissu, chair of theopposition Chama cha Demokrasia na Maendeleo (Chadema), who was detained in April and charged with treason, while his party has been banned by the Electoral Commission until 2030. Another contender, Luhaga Mpina, the candidate for Tanzania's second-largest opposition party, ACT-Wazalendo with its heartlands in Zanzibar, was similarly barred in September. Just 16 fringe parties without a national presence remained. But even then, the elections were blatantly rigged, with reports of the stuffing of ballot boxes emerging subsequently, and the observers present rubbishing the notion of a genuine competition. Few people bothered to turn out, with polling stations largely deserted across the country —despite the electoral commission's claims of 31.9 million votes on 1 November, nearly 87% turnout.

The Tanzanian government also appears to have picked some authoritarian tricks from its counterparts in Kampala and Addis as well, with a wave of enforced disappearances driving a climate of fear before the election. Amnesty International reported 83 disappearances during the2025 campaign period alone. Newspapers and journalists have been targeted as well, with many foreign correspondents denied accreditation for covering the election and domestic outlets non-aligned with the CCM shut down. But particularly chilling, and a technique now regularly deployed by a host of authoritarian-minded governments across East Africa and the Horn, the Tanzanian government shut down the nation's internet connection on the day of the polls-- and in the days after as protests simmered.

It was under this media and comms blackout that demonstrations erupted even before the 'official' results had been declared, with youth turning out in the thousands in Dar es Salaam, Arusha, Mwanza, Mbeya, and Songwe. Concerningly, historically apolitical army units were subsequently deployed to the streets and reportedly opened fire indiscriminately on the protestors in several towns, while a 24-hour curfew was installed across the country. The subsequent death toll has been hard to verify, but it is widely regarded as the deadliest election violence in Tanzania's post-independence history. Human rights organisations have placed figures at over 500 dead, while Chadema has alleged that over 1,000 people have been killed, and hundreds buried to conceal thescale of violence. The government, in turn, has denied deploying excessive force, though Samia Hassan expressed regret over the "loss of lives and destruction of public property" during her militarised inauguration. And the crackdown has continued in the days after, with hundreds of people having been arrested and facing treason charges, including opposition figures, online influencers and community leaders. 

The international response has been condemnatory, with the African Union and Southern African Development Community dismissing the credibility of the sham polls. The EU and UN have further expressed their respective concerns about the use of excessive force against protestors. But few expect change, with the president overseeing her oath of office at the Tanzania People's Defence Force parade grounds on 3 November in a ceremony entirely closed to ordinary citizens. It was a chilling display of force, and one broadcast solely on state television as the internet blackout entered its sixth day. An uneasy status quo appears to have returned to much of Tanzania in recent days, though the prices of essential goods and fuel have skyrocketed. For the international community, Tanzania's reputation may be briefly shaken as a dependable partner, one that works with both Chinese and Western investors, but there appears to be greater interest in maintaining at least a veneer of stability than confronting the regime.

While the discontentment amongst Tanzania's overwhelmingly young population is one shared across much of the Horn, the lack of political alternation has been particularly acute in Tanzania, with the ruling CCM having maintained near-complete dominance since independence. Under Julius Nyerere's one-party system, formalised in constitutional amendments in the 1960s and 1970s, political competition was quashed in the name of unity. Article 41(7) bars courts from questioning presidential results once declared, while the president directly appoints each member of the National Electoral Commission, as well as district returning officers. Even following thereintroduction of multiparty politics in 1992 and other nominal reforms, CCM's grip was only loosened modestly. 

And yet there were flashes of political competition, particularly the 2015 election, won narrowly by the late-President Magufuli, who died in office in March 2021. It was under Magufuli, though, that the systematic dismantling of Tanzania's democratic institutions resumed in earnest, with opposition rallies curtailed and legislation enacted to curb criticism of the government. Following the sudden death of Magufuli, the elevation of Samia Hassan from her role as vice-president stirred cautious optimism. Becoming Tanzania's first female head of state, and the first Zanzibari to occupy the presidency since the 1970s, Samia Hassan's rise was hoped to bring some reconciliation between Zanzibar and the mainland. And there were initial promises of democratic reform — including lifting the ban on rallies in January 2023 — but as the prospect of elections drew closer, her administration leaned ever more heavily on the state's coercive apparatus. And the Muslim-majority island of Zanzibar remains on the political periphery of the nation.

Beyond the brutal domestic consolidation, the Tanzanian election has also drawn attention to thegrowing linkages and shared tactics between the increasingly authoritarian governments across theregion. Though regional multilaterals may have condemned the farcical polls, Uganda, Djibouti, Ethiopia and Kenya have all extended their congratulations to Samia Hassan. Each of these countries will head to the polls in 2026 and 2027, and their leaders will undoubtedly be watching keenly the domestic and international reactions to the bloody Tanzanian election. However, rather than reforming and focusing on the politics of diplomacy and service delivery, it feels increasingly likely that these governments will —and already are —borrowing from the Samia Hassan playbook, including enforced disappearances and internet shutdowns. 

Such diplomatic cover and authoritarian alliance-building between the political elite across theEast and Horn of Africa is one to watch, as it will undoubtedly shape the region's politics in thecoming years. However, in the meantime, the dramatic events of recent weeks have shattered theperception of Tanzania's exceptionalism, revealing the limits of how far a government can push its citizens. And they might yet serve as a warning to those who would deny the democratic rights and legitimate grievances of their own populations.

​The Horn Edition Team