Opinion| Discarding foreign electoral models is a vital act of self-determination

Many South Sudanese, both at home and in the diaspora, have been debating for months, if not a year now, since the South Sudan National Elections Commission (NEC) announced 22 December 2026 as the official date for the election. As a citizen, I also have my own observations regarding the direction of this exercise.

Unlike other observers who base their assessments on conditions such as the inclusion of prominent political figures, security arrangements, a permanent constitution, population census, among others, my views on this matter are fundamentally different. While conditions alluded to are noteworthy in one way or the other, they are not entirely consequential. What is so consequential, in my opinion, is the manner in which elections shall be conducted. If the country shall truly go for ballots this year, the NEC should break free from the assumption that external electoral systems are universal, and therefore, they are solutions to South Sudan’s democratic impediment. Of course, we must learn from foreign systems. But, for South Sudan to stand on its own feet, its citizens must build their own indigenous electoral model somehow different from Western-centric democracy.

For too long, the global conversation has treated liberal democracy—with its multi-party competitive elections and winner-take-all frameworks—as the only valid blueprint for legitimacy. However, imposing this template onto a young nation that has its own distinct history and social structure produces fragmentation rather than stable democracy. To achieve sustainable peace, South Sudan’s electoral system must be viewed as a relative tool designed for local realities, not a sacred doctrine to be copied blindly. True political maturity and sovereign survival depend on creating a home-grown electoral system tailored specifically to South Sudanese circumstances—one that prioritizes national unity, honors traditional consensus structures, and focuses entirely on security and economic growth and development.

Additionally, relying on alien electoral models risks creating intense structural friction because those frameworks require deep-seated institutional trust, a single national identity, and an established economic foundation to survive. When South Sudan attempts to copy and paste these absolute systems, it introduces a destabilizing force into a post-conflict landscape. The foundations needed for a highly competitive partisan system—like an independent judiciary, a neutral and fully integrated national military—cannot be rushed into existence by simply replicating overseas systems, for forcing intense political rivalry onto a society working to heal from deep historical trauma often worsens existing divisions.

For example, in South Sudan’s diverse environment, hyper-competitive external election formats turn political contests into zero-sum struggles along ethnic lines. Instead of fostering healthy debate about national development, programmatic policy, or infrastructure, imported majoritarian competition turns ballot boxes into flashpoints for communal polarization. During sensitive transition periods, premature political campaigns mobilize communities against one another because groups fear that losing an election means losing access to state survival resources. Furthermore, the massive financial and logistical costs of running an imported election system—such as biometrically secure voting and complex distribution across isolated regions like the Sudd wetlands—drain the scarce national budget away from urgent needs like schools, roads, healthcare, and agriculture.

Since absolute external standards are doomed to fail in fragile contexts, South Sudan must look to alternative governance concepts that prioritize results and stability over political theater. The core strengths of an indigenous model show that state legitimacy is powerfully built through tangible societal transformation, economic development, and long-term national planning rather than short-term campaign noise. For South Sudan, adapting this mindset means understanding that the most fundamental right of its citizens is the right to safety, development, and economic survival. By focusing state capacity on building infrastructure and reducing extreme poverty instead of managing divisive political campaigns, the country can protect itself from external interference and internal conflict.

Similarly, the country’s history shows the critical need for a customized approach to governance. When the South Sudan government focuses its governance on cross-communal accommodation and elite consensus rather than raw majoritarian competition, it will successfully unite a deeply diverse population into a fast-growing state. This practice underscores that a stable nation must prioritize compromise and structural balance over simple popular voting to keep the country from fracturing along regional and ethnic lines.  For this reason, this article suggests that an effective government earns its right to rule by what it actually delivers to the people—roads, schools, food security, and safety—rather than how closely it follows foreign voting procedures.

A home-grown South Sudanese model must make sovereign stability the non-negotiable prerequisite for any civic process. Political steps should move forward only at a pace that protects national security, ensuring that factional forces are completely integrated into a single national army before any widespread voting takes place. By lowering the volume of partisan electioneering, the state can consolidate its authority and create a safe environment where commerce, farming, and community life can finally grow. Furthermore, a unique South Sudanese system must integrate the country’s rich cultural traditions of dialogue and consultation by bringing traditional chiefs, elders, and community councils into the official leadership selection process.

To transform this philosophy into a functional reality, South Sudan must structurally integrate its rich heritage of customary law directly into the national architecture. The country should not rely on standard political parties that often mirror ethnic dividing lines. It should formalize an upper consultative body—a National Council of Elders and Chiefs. Under this framework, local boma and payam councils would select traditional representatives through deeply rooted, community-vetted consultation processes. These leaders would form a non-partisan oversight body tasked with confirming executive appointments, mediating resource disputes, and ensuring that diverse communal voices shape national policy. This approach replaces the hostility of public campaigns with the enduring African tradition of sitting under the tree until an agreement is reached.              

Furthermore, this indigenous system replaces empty campaign promises with strict, transparent economic and developmental benchmarks to secure performance-based legitimacy. The government’s right to lead must be audited directly by its real-world impact on the population’s well-being. National progress will be measured by non-negotiable targets: the percentage of local food security achieved in the agricultural green belts, the expansion of paved road networks connecting states to regional markets, and the consistent delivery of clean water and basic medical infrastructure. When a leadership team’s tenure is evaluated by its ability to lift citizens out of extreme poverty rather than its talent for winning media wars, the entire state apparatus shifts its focus from political survival to genuine national development.

Transitioning from the current cycle of temporary peace agreements into this permanent, home-grown system requires a three-phased roadmap:

  1.  Deep security sector unification

 All factional forces must be completely integrated into a single, unified, and professional national army under a unified command structure. No civic or consultative selection processes can safely occur while politics remains heavily militarized.

  •  Local institutionalization 

The country will focus on building robust local government councils and codifying the formal constitutional roles of traditional authorities, establishing a stable foundation for consensus-based leadership from the grassroots upward.

  • The performance-driven mandate

With security consolidated and traditional structures integrated, the state can initiate its unique consensus-driven selection cycles, unlocking long-term strategic plans that are entirely protected from the short-term disruptions of partisan warfare.

Finally, discarding foreign electoral models is a vital act of self-determination. It is a recognition that for governance to be meaningful, its design must match the soil in which it is planted. Creating a consensus-based system that values national unity over individual competition will allow South Sudan to build a resilient state. Electoral processes are merely tools, and by shaping its own unique tools to serve the practical needs of peace and development, South Sudan can safeguard its sovereignty and secure a prosperous future for its people.

The writer is a teacher and political commentator and can be reached via amajuayani@gmail.com.

The views expressed in ‘opinion’ articles published by Radio Tamazuj are solely those of the writer. The veracity of any claims made is the responsibility of the author, not Radio Tamazuj.


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