Conducting South Sudan’s 2026 Elections Without a Constitution Is Like Eating Fufu Without Soup
In South Sudanese homes, fufu without soup is not a meal—it is an empty ritual. You may go through the motions of eating, but nourishment is absent. In the same way, conducting the 2026 national elections without a permanent constitution would be a hollow exercise: the appearance of democracy without its substance.
Elections are not merely about ballot papers, polling stations, or announcing winners. They are the final step in a long legal and political process anchored in a constitution. A constitution defines the rules of the game—who can contest, how power is distributed, what limits exist on authority, and how disputes are resolved. Without it, elections become an event without direction, vulnerable to manipulation, confusion, and conflict.
South Sudan’s painful history makes this reality impossible to ignore. Since independence, the country has suffered repeated cycles of political disagreement that escalated into violence, largely because institutions were weak and rules unclear or contested. A permanent constitution was meant to be the social contract that binds citizens and leaders alike, clarifying rights, responsibilities, and the framework of governance. To skip this step and rush into elections is to repeat old mistakes under a new banner.
Supporters of quick elections argue that the country needs leaders with a fresh mandate and that delays only prolong the transitional period. While this frustration is understandable, speed should not be confused with progress. Elections conducted without a constitutional foundation risk producing leaders whose legitimacy is immediately questioned. When the losers dispute the process—and they will—the absence of a supreme legal document leaves no trusted referee to settle disagreements peacefully.
Moreover, a constitution is not just a legal text for politicians; it is protection for ordinary citizens. It safeguards freedoms, minority rights, land ownership, and the balance between national and state powers. Without these guarantees firmly in place, elections may empower individuals but fail to protect the people. Democracy then becomes reduced to personalities rather than principles.
The metaphor of fufu without soup speaks directly to our lived reality. Fufu alone fills the stomach briefly but leaves the body weak. Elections alone may create headlines and international applause, but without a constitution, they leave the nation politically malnourished. True democracy requires both—the act of voting and the constitutional framework that gives that vote meaning.
If South Sudan is serious about lasting peace and stability, the priority must be clear: finalize and adopt a permanent constitution through an inclusive, transparent process. Only then can elections serve their true purpose—transferring power peacefully, strengthening unity, and giving citizens confidence in their state.
Author Bio
Abraham Madit Majak is a South Sudanese writer and political commentator with a strong focus on governance, peace processes, and civic accountability. He regularly contributes to public discourse on South Sudan’s political transition, the role of state institutions, and the responsibilities of leadership during critical reform and nation-building periods.
