By concerned citizen,
Mwanza Tanzania
THERE are moments in African politics when narratives written from afar focus more on the observer’s distance than the reality on the ground. Reading Fergus Kell’s article, “Tanzania’s Election: The Erosion of Democracy Will Also Come at the Cost of Economic Potential”, published 23 October 2025 by Chatham House, I couldn’t help but feel a familiar urge: the temptation to frame every election on the continent as a sign of democratic collapse.
Photo credit AP.In doing so, the article risks overlooking the subtle, locally-rooted work of governance and reform in Tanzania, and in particular the specific programme set out by Samia Suluhu Hassan.
Beneath the familiar Western narrative of democratic decline lies a more layered Tanzanian story one that cannot be reduced to the idea of “repression wrapped in economic promise.”
Tanzania’s political and economic trajectory under President Samia Suluhu Hassan deserves to be understood in full, not flattened into a cautionary tale about authoritarian drift.
Fergus Kell’s Chatham House article falls into a familiar analytical trap: interpreting every African election through the lens of democratic backsliding.
Yet Tanzania’s reality is more nuanced. Its democracy is not an imitation of Western liberal models, nor is it defined by the noise of partisan contestation.
It is a consensus-based system, born from an enduring national ethos of unity and steady progress over spectacle.
President Samia’s campaign, grounded in peace, dignity, and stability, reflects this tradition. Her call to voters in Mwanza to “choose continuity over chaos” was less an attempt to silence opposition than a reminder of what stability has enabled-sustained development and a sense of shared direction.
For many Tanzanians, that message resonates. Stability, after all, has never been an excuse for stagnation but a precondition for growth.
Kell’s portrayal of an extinguished opposition rests on selective examples. Yes, figures like Tundu Lissu have faced legal challenges, but to reduce the political landscape to those instances misses the broader context.
Legal frameworks regulating party activity or national security exist in most democracies.
Since 2023, Tanzania has also reopened political space: rally bans lifted, inter-party dialogues resumed, and civic engagement cautiously expanding. These shifts may not grab headlines, but they mark a real political recalibration.
The article’s repetition of allegations about abductions and intimidation, though serious, should be weighed against the parallel strengthening of state institutions.
Under Samia, oversight bodies such as the Prevention and Combating of Corruption Bureau (PCCB), the Controller and Auditor-General, and the Ethics Secretariat have gained both capacity and authority.
The government has recovered over TZS 211 billion in misused funds and sharply reduced adverse audit reports. These are not gestures of retreat; they are steps toward embedding accountability in governance.
Indeed, the question is not whether Tanzania conforms to imported democratic ideals, but whether it delivers on its citizens’ aspirations. If democracy means perpetual conflict without progress, Tanzania has chosen a wiser path.
Nonetheless if it means stability, inclusion, and tangible improvement in daily life, then Samia Suluhu Hassan’s Tanzania is quietly, confidently, and deliberately walking that road.
Equally misleading is Kell’s claim that Samia’s nomination within CCM reflects an erosion of internal democracy. Tanzania’s ruling party has long operated on consensus rather than confrontation.
Its internal selection model, while distinct from Western primaries, has insulated it from the factional implosions seen elsewhere on the continent. That structure, not rigidity, has sustained CCM’s continuity and discipline.
Samia’s rise as East Africa’s first woman president signals not stagnation, but generational and gendered renewal-a milestone too often reduced to a footnote in Western analyses.
On economic matters, Kell’s argument begins in recognition but ends in contradiction. He acknowledges growth of around six per cent, low inflation, and stable debt, yet insists these achievements obscure repression.
That leap defies logic. Economic management and democratic intent are not opposites. Under Samia, agricultural budgets have quadrupled; TZS 708 billion has been directed toward fertiliser subsidies; nearly one million hectares of farmland are under irrigation; and the Agricultural Development Bank continues to finance smallholders. These are policies that speak directly to ordinary Tanzanians’ livelihoods, far beyond the reach of political rhetoric.
Kell’s dismissal of “megaprojects” as inherited relics is equally misplaced. The Standard Gauge Railway, 99 per cent complete and already carrying freight, is transforming regional trade-linking the Indian Ocean to the Great Lakes and positioning Tanzania as East Africa’s logistical hub.
The 2024–2034 Clean Energy Strategy, distributing over 450,000 gas cylinders and targeting 80 per cent clean-cooking adoption by 2030, reflects a pragmatic alignment with Vision 2050. These are not symbols of authoritarian vanity, but anchors of sustainable development.
The broader issue with Kell’s analysis lies in its binary framing-democracy versus control, reform versus repression. Tanzania’s experience is subtler: an evolving democracy that values gradual reform over upheaval.
Its institutions are not perfect, but they function, and its leadership prefers incremental change to the illusions of instant transformation.
Equally, his reading of investor confidence feels selective. Ministerial reshuffles, which he frames as instability, are in fact part of President Samia’s performance-based management style. They reflect accountability, not disorder.
The reassignment of figures such as January Makamba has been dramatised in foreign commentary, yet within Tanzania, it is understood more pragmatically.
President Samia Suluhu Hassan’s reshuffles are not signs of political turbulence but of managerial discipline-a deliberate effort to test competence and keep the bureaucracy dynamic.
This same pragmatism defines her foreign policy: Tanzania engages comfortably with both Western and Eastern partners without leaning on either. In a world of renewed geopolitical rivalry, such balance is not indecision but maturity, the quiet confidence of a state that knows its worth.
Kell’s argument assumes that the measure of democratic health lies in how noisy political competition becomes. Tanzania’s experience tells a more complex story.
Its avoidance of large-scale political violence is not a coincidence but the result of deliberate restraint and a culture of negotiation. When President Samia reminds leaders to “solve people’s problems, not fight people or parties,” she is speaking from a national tradition that values social harmony over spectacle.
This is democracy expressed in a distinctly Tanzanian rhythm, calm, consultative, and focused on collective welfare. It may not fit Western expectations of political drama, but it has delivered something more enduring: peace.
The claim that electoral reforms are merely cosmetic also underplays the substance of recent changes, from the re-registration of parties to decentralised election monitoring and greater transparency in campaign financing.
These are small but steady steps toward institutional maturity. Democracy, in Tanzania’s story, is not a one-time event but a slow construction, built brick by brick through trust and reform.
Equally, the portrayal of shrinking civic space overlooks the state’s investment in social welfare. Over five million citizens now benefit from the Tanzania Social Action Fund, receiving nearly TZS 962 billion in support.
Rural water access has risen from 70 to 83 per cent, and electricity coverage from 40 to 78 per cent of households. These are not sterile statistics; they represent freedom in lived form, freedom from thirst, darkness, and exclusion.
Even on constitutional reform, patience is often mistaken for paralysis. Overhauling a national charter demands consensus, not haste. The government’s insistence on stability before amendment reflects Tanzania’s enduring philosophy: reform, yes, but never at the expense of peace.
Kell’s analysis, in the end, confuses balance for backsliding. Tanzania is not retreating from democracy; it is redefining it, steadily, quietly, and on its own terms.