On 26 November 2025, gunfire broke out near key government buildings in Bissau, the capital of Guinea-Bissau. Later that day, a group of army officers appeared on state television to declare that they had seized “total control” of the country.
They announced the arrest of President Umaro Sissoco Embaló, suspended the electoral process, closed borders, and imposed a curfew, establishing a “High Military Command for the Restoration of National Security and Public Order” to run the country until further notice.
The coup comes on the heels of the 23 November general election — a tightly contested vote in which both Embaló and his challenger claimed victory, with an official result still pending. The 2025 takeover is now the latest in a long series of political ruptures in this small West African nation, underscoring just how fragile civilian rule remains.
A history of military interventions: how often and why
Since gaining independence from Portugal in 1974, Guinea-Bissau has become one of the world’s most coup-prone countries. Official records from regional and international institutions count four successful coups d’état — along with at least 16–17 attempted, plotted, or alleged coups, and a civil war between 1998 and 1999.
The first of these occurred on 14 November 1980, when then-Prime Minister João Bernardo Vieira overthrew President Luís Cabral in a mostly bloodless takeover, a turning point that reoriented the country’s post-colonial trajectory.
Subsequent decades brought a cycle of instability: coups, attempted coups, mutinies, and once, a civil war. That civil war, triggered by a failed coup attempt in 1998, led to widespread violence, displacement of hundreds of thousands, and a collapse in economic output.
More recently, overthrow plots, dissolutions of parliament, and contested elections, including in 2022 and 2023, have kept Guinea-Bissau locked in perpetual political uncertainty.
In short: the 2025 coup isn’t a singular shock — it is part of an entrenched, recurring pattern of military interventions triggered by political rivalries, weak institutions, and disputes over power, often exacerbated by economic fragility.
Economic toll: how coups and instability have set back development
Guinea-Bissau remains one of the poorest countries globally, with very low per-capita income and widespread deprivation. The country’s per-capita GDP — and its human development indicators, have long suffered under cycles of instability.
According to the World Bank (WB), the accumulated cost of conflict and political instability between 1998 and 2018 amounts to roughly US$1.1 billion — roughly equal to the nation’s entire GDP in recent years.
Repeated coups, institutional fragility, and a volatile political climate have discouraged private investment, undercut economic diversification, and prevented sustained growth.
Even when economic growth is recorded, it has hardly translated into improved living conditions for most citizens. Before the civil war, growth per capita was modest; since then, per capita growth has stagnated, and the reliance on export of a few commodities, notably raw cashew nuts, has made the economy vulnerable to external shocks and climatic variation.
The instability has also undermined public services: long-term investments in infrastructure, education, health, and human development have been minimal. Public spending is often constrained, partly due to volatile fiscal revenues and dependence on external aid.
In short, every political rupture imposes not only a governance cost, but also a tangible economic cost, erasing developmental gains and undermining future growth.
What’s next: uncertainty, potential, and risk
The 2025 coup raises urgent questions about the future trajectory of Guinea-Bissau. The newly proclaimed military junta has signalled its intent to “restore order”, but experience suggests that military rulers seldom deliver stable, democratic governance, and often entrench institutional weakness rather than mend it.
Immediate consequences may include disruption of foreign aid flows and foreign investment, which Guinea-Bissau heavily depends on. Following previous coups, especially in 2012, foreign-funded capital expenditures plunged by more than 80%, impacting health, water, education, and energy infrastructure projects.
Economic projections made earlier in 2025 were cautiously optimistic: real GDP growth was expected at around 5%, inflation was moderate, and trends in cashew-nut exports were supportive. But under military rule, those forecasts may unravel, especially if instability scares off investors or donors, or if trade and exports are disrupted.
On the other hand, some might argue the coup could open a transitional window: if the junta opts for reforms, strengthens institutions, and stabilizes security, it might, in theory, create an opportunity for renewed governance. But history of Guinea-Bissau suggests that repeated interventions have rarely produced lasting institutional reform.
Finally, there is the human cost: for a country where a majority already lives in poverty, where social services are weak and where opportunities are limited, any further political and economic turbulence risks consigning another generation to hardship.
Why it matters: beyond Guinea-Bissau
The 2025 coup may seem like a remote event in a small West-African state, but in reality, it resonates much more widely. It is part of a broader wave of military takeovers in West and Central Africa over the past five years.
Guinea-Bissau’s recurrence of coups echoes a pattern across the region: weak institutions, economic fragility, contested elections, and external shocks combining to undermine democratic stability. The turmoil there underscores how fragile democracy can be when political structures remain shallow, governance is weak, and the rule of law is easily subverted.
For regional bodies, donors, investors, and international observers, the crisis is a sobering reminder: without long-term institutional strengthening and economic diversification, gains remain fragile and vulnerable to reversal.
The 26 November 2025 takeover is not simply a momentary crisis; it is yet another confirmation that the cycle of coups and fragility remains the defining political reality of Guinea-Bissau. Whether this time it leads to durable reform or deeper decay, remains to be seen.
