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Was it lawful to delay South Sudan’s elections until February 2027?

South Sudan's President Salva Kiir

South Sudan’s Parliament was dissolved for a December election. The vote has moved to February, and Parliament remains dissolved. On 22 September 2026, President Salva Kiir dissolved both houses of the Transitional National Legislature and installed a caretaker administration. The general elections were then three months away. On 14 November, the National Elections Commission (NEC) announced that polling would move from 22 December 2026 to 11 February 2027. The Commission said it needed more time to distribute voter registration materials and complete other preparations. That explains why it wanted more time. The legal power to postpone the elections nationwide remains unidentified in its reported explanation.

The authorities gain 51 days to prepare. The country is left with 11 days between polling and the agreed end of the transition on 22 February 2027. In the meantime, voters have less time than the law guarantees to check the register, and candidates face compressed deadlines for qualifying and campaigning. What law authorises the Commission to move the vote nationwide? Do voters have the time they are guaranteed to check the register and correct mistakes? Do candidates have time to qualify and campaign on equal terms? What keeps Parliament dissolved now that polling has moved? Who may govern, and who will hold them to account, if the handover runs past 22 February? The answer at each stage affects what can lawfully happen at the next.

In my view, the legal foundation of the caretaker government is void because of the way the 2026 reforms were adopted. The peace agreement can be amended only through the procedure it prescribes. Article 8.4 requires the consent of at least two-thirds of the Council of Ministers and at least two-thirds of the voting members of the Reconstituted Joint Monitoring and Evaluation Commission (RJMEC). The amendment then goes to the Transitional National Legislature for ratification under the constitutional amendment procedure. The sequence matters. Consent must come before ratification. A condition imposed at the start of the process has to be met at that stage. Articles 8.2 and 8.3, which were reportedly retained, give the agreement priority where it conflicts with the Constitution or ordinary legislation. Article 3 of the Transitional Constitution, in turn, gives the Constitution priority over inconsistent legislation.

The 2024 extension shows how the procedure works. The parties agreed to extend the transition to 22 February 2027. RJMEC gave its consent, and the legislature then ratified the extension. In July 2026, the legislature approved changes that would allow elections before a national census and a permanent constitution. Constitutional Amendment No 13 and the amendments to the Elections Act followed in September. The latter supplied the stated basis for the dissolution. RJMEC says the July changes reached the legislature without the consent of its voting members required by Article 8.4.

RJMEC speaks to whether its own members gave that consent. Its account is decisive in assessing whether the required procedure was followed. Ratification is the last step. A vote in the legislature cannot supply the consent that should have come before it. In my view, the July amendments therefore failed to take effect, and the earlier provisions of the agreement continue to govern wherever they conflict with the 2026 reforms. Those reforms are inconsistent with the surviving provisions of the agreement and with the Transitional Constitution that incorporates it. One such provision, Article 1.1.4, ties the unity government’s mandate to the transition and to the holding of elections, subject to the agreement’s exceptions. RJMEC considers the unilateral dismantling of the Presidency inconsistent with that article. The caretaker administration rests on the 2026 reforms. The defects in those reforms therefore go to the very foundation of the caretaker administration.

There is a second argument, which proceeds on the government’s own premises. Assume for the moment that the reforms were valid. The Commission would still have to show that the Elections Act authorised what it did. Lawyers call this arguing in the alternative. The starting position concerns whether lawful authority existed at all. The alternative asks whether, assuming the claimed foundation was valid, the authorities exercised their powers lawfully. The first position stands as the second is tested. A public body may exercise only the powers the law gives it. When its authority is challenged, it must identify the source of that power and show that it met the conditions for using it. That is the burden the authorities must discharge here. On the public record, their explanation leaves those questions unanswered.

The Commission’s power to move the vote

Moving an election date fixed by law requires authority for the change, compliance with the conditions attached to that authority and proper notice. Any power the NEC relies on must also be exercised within the limits of the Constitution. The calendar presents the first difficulty. Section 9(1) of the National Elections Act, 2012, as amended in September 2026, directs the NEC to organise elections in December 2026. The same subsection places polling within the final 60 days of the transition, reflecting the 60-day lead time set by the Revitalised Agreement on the Resolution of the Conflict in the Republic of South Sudan. Published accounts of Constitutional Amendment No 13 describe amended Article 197A(9) as retaining both the December mandate and the 60-day requirement.

The Commission could make a plausible point about the arithmetic. Counting back 60 calendar days from 22 February puts the start of the window on 24 December. The original polling date of 22 December falls two days before that window appears to open. The proposed February date falls within the window. But section 9(1) also says December. A reading that allows a February election would give effect to one part of the subsection by defeating the other. The mismatch points to poor drafting. It gives the Commission no discretion to choose which part of the subsection to follow. A reading that can sustain the February date must account for both requirements. If the published accounts reflect the operative text of Amendment No 13, Article 3 also makes the constitutional December mandate binding, however broadly the Commission reads the Act.

Any power to depart from the date must cover the elections in question, and the NEC must meet its conditions. The Act lets the Commission postpone elections for President, governor or chief administrator by notice if proven imminent danger makes voting impossible or if a state of emergency has been declared for the territory affected. It must then choose the earliest practicable date, no more than 60 days after the original one. There is also a narrower power for returning officers, with the Commission’s approval, to defer polling in particular geographical constituencies.

The 51-day delay fits the outer limit. That is the one condition the reported timetable can show it meets. The Commission’s reported explanation concerns registration logistics and gives no finding of impossibility due to imminent danger or an applicable emergency declaration. If insecurity is the basis, the NEC must identify where it made voting impossible and explain why the delay had to be nationwide. Even if it could do that, the specific power covers only the three executive offices named in the Act. The returning officers’ power is local. A nationwide postponement of all legislative elections needs a separate source of authority, and none has been identified.

The Commission could fall back on its ordinary scheduling authority and on section 138. That section allows the NEC to adapt procedures when a mistake, an emergency or another specified circumstance makes the existing rules unsuitable. It requires the Commission to inform political parties and independent candidates of the action it takes. It expressly puts the Constitution outside the reach of that power. And reading it to allow a nationwide change of date would let the Commission use a general power to evade the specific conditions the Act sets for postponement. It would also deprive the December mandate of effect. The specific rule governs postponement where it applies. Section 138 gives the Commission a general power to adapt procedures within those limits.

Then there is notice. Section 16(1) ordinarily requires at least six months’ notice of polling. The announcement on 22 June met that interval for the December election. The NEC announced the February date 89 days before polling. A valid postponement notice might carry the original notice forward. That depends on the Commission first showing that it could lawfully postpone the polls. As a fresh notice, the 14 November announcement falls about three months short of the ordinary rule.

These are four tests for the same decision. The December mandate stands in the way of a February poll. The specific postponement power is limited in scope, and compliance with its conditions has yet to be shown. The general power cannot override those limits or the Constitution. The June notice can carry forward only if the postponement was valid. The need for more time may be real. The Commission still has to show where the law gives it the authority to move the vote.

What the timetable takes from voters and candidates

For a voter, the effect of the revised calendar starts with the register. Article 26 of the Transitional Constitution protects the right to vote, which depends in practice on whether the voter is correctly registered. Section 36(e) of the Act requires publication of the register at least three months before polling so voters can check their entries. Section 37(c) requires the Commission to open it for inspection within 60 days of the general election notice and to keep it open for at least 15 days. Section 38(1), which the 2026 amendment does not expressly revise, requires publication of the final register at least six months before polling. These periods protect the accuracy of the register. The law sets them so that voters can spot errors in time to do something about them.

Registration was due to begin on 14 November. The provisional register is scheduled for publication on 29 November. Radio Tamazuj and Eye Radio give different dates for the display of the register. Each reports a seven-day display period, with final publication scheduled for early January. For an 11 February poll, the three-month deadline fell on 11 November, three days before registration was due to start. Publication on 29 November is 18 days late. If the June notice still governs, the 60 days allowed for opening inspection have long expired. Whatever notice applies, seven days is less than half the required 15. The final register misses the six-month deadline and would also miss the three-month deadline if the newer provision were read to govern both registers.

South Sudanese legal expert Dr. Remember Miamingi

Consider a voter displaced by conflict who discovers that her name is missing or that she has been registered in the wrong constituency. The inspection period is her opportunity to have the error corrected. Shortening it leaves voters most exposed to mistakes with less time to put them right. The NEC has identified no power that permits it to shorten these minimum periods and has given no explanation of how it will protect voters who miss the shortened window. On the present record, the timetable cuts a statutory safeguard for the right to vote without demonstrated legal authority.

The same register determines whose endorsement counts for a candidate. Article 26 protects the right to stand as well as the right to vote. Section 48(1) requires a presidential candidate to obtain the support of 10,000 registered voters from at least seven states, with at least 200 from each. Section 48(3) requires the NEC to issue forms for collecting signatures for presidential and gubernatorial nominations 30 days in advance. The 15-day rule in section 70(4), as amended in 2026, applies to forms for geographical-constituency seats. Section 49(2) requires the nomination period for candidates for President, governor and chief administrator to open at least 60 days before polling. The Act also addresses the campaign. Sections 75(1) and 75(3) require publication of the final legislative candidate lists after appeals and simultaneous announcement of a campaign of at least 30 days. Section 80(1), as amended, caps the overall campaign at 45 days. Sections 81 and 82 require impartial treatment of candidates and require the Commission to regulate equal access to public media.

The timetable provides for signature forms to be issued on 29 November, applications to open on 14 December and nominations to close before publication of the final register. It sets 18 January for the final candidate lists and schedules campaigning from 27 December to 9 February. If the dates for forms and applications apply to the presidential and gubernatorial races, those candidates have 15 days to collect signatures, half the 30 days the Act gives them. The opening on 14 December is 59 days before polling, one day short of the section 49(2) minimum. And because nominations close before the final register appears, candidates must obtain endorsements from registered voters without a final register against which to check them. The Commission has yet to say how candidates can verify signatures or how it will treat endorsements from voters whose details are corrected on appeal.

The overall 45-day campaign fits the cap. A legislative candidate whose name appears on the final list on 18 January after a successful appeal would have at most 23 calendar days to campaign, counting that day. The statutory minimum is 30. Campaigning begins while nomination appeals can still change who is allowed to stand. Candidates who succeed on appeal bear the greatest disadvantage because they join the contest last. Even an equal allocation of public airtime after publication of the final lists would leave them with fewer days to reach voters. Impartial treatment has to be secured over the campaign as a whole, including for candidates who needed an appeal to get on the ballot.

The signature, nomination, verification and campaign stages depend on one another. The timetable gives candidates less time to collect signatures before nominations open late. They must then file before the final register lets them check those signatures, and candidates admitted on appeal stand to lose part of their campaign. Each shortfall feeds the next. The Commission has offered no legal basis for compressing the statutory periods. The effect on the right to stand is the same as the effect on the right to vote. The timetable takes away time the law set aside to make each right meaningful.

Governing without Parliament

The postponement also extends the period in which South Sudan is governed without a national legislature. Sections 16(2a), 16(2b) and 16(4b) of the amended Act tie the dissolution of the legislatures, the partial dissolution of the national government and the removal of the vice-presidents to the three months before polling. Those powers may be exercised only within that window. The September order fell at the start of it under the December timetable. If the February date stands, the country will have been without a national legislature for nearly five months before voting. RJMEC’s objection under Article 1.1.4 remains. The agreement ties the unity government’s mandate to the transition and the holding of elections, subject to its own exceptions.

The government can argue that the order was lawful when it was issued because it fell within the three months before the December election. That assumes the validity of the reforms, which my primary argument disputes. Even on the government’s reading, the order’s original timing answers only whether the statutory window applied then. The window was tied to polling, and polling has moved. A new date does not by itself reconvene Parliament. The September order continues to operate unless a competent authority sets it aside or otherwise provides for the legislature. Its continuing operation and its continuing legality are separate questions. The longer the dissolution lasts beyond the period used to justify it, the harder it is to identify a legal basis for it and the sharper the conflict with Article 1.1.4 becomes.

No authority has explained what keeps the dissolution lawful for the extra seven weeks. The postponement stretches an arrangement framed around three months before polling and leaves the country without the institution that could supply the missing legislative authority.

The next question is who can hold power after 22 February and who can hold them to account. Section 16(4a) keeps the incumbent President in office during the electoral period until the elected President takes over. Published accounts of Constitutional Amendment No 13 also describe a constitutional basis for continuity in the presidency pending succession. The Act separately provides for temporary continuity in the executive offices covered by its specific postponement power, where that power is lawfully exercised. It allows up to 60 days after polling for a presidential run-off. Article 86(5) of the Transitional Constitution bars the President from making provisional orders on matters affecting general elections. Continuity in office is one issue. Authority to extend the transition and arrangements for legislative oversight each require a legal basis of their own.

The reported calendar provides for first-round results on 15 February, a possible run-off by 12 April and disputes through 15 July. An outright winner could take office before the transition ends. A run-off after 22 February or a court order suspending a result could push the handover past that date. The dispute period running through July does not itself suspend a result. The timing of a possible run-off is the clearest way to see how much the postponement changes the prospects for an orderly handover. With December polling, the 60-day period would have ended on 20 February, before the transition expired. With February polling, it runs to 12 April, seven weeks beyond the agreed end of the transition. The revised calendar therefore creates a risk of a presidential run-off after expiry of the transition that the original calendar avoided.

For as long as the caretaker administration is in place, the September order restricts substantial public borrowing and other major commitments unless the President authorises them and the applicable law allows them. Both houses remain dissolved. This leaves the executive to supervise its own caretakers within those limits. Parliament cannot scrutinise spending or summon ministers to account for it. The continuity provisions can keep an incumbent in office. They confer no power to prolong the mandates of the wider transitional institutions or restore parliamentary scrutiny. Article 86(5) also places provisional presidential law-making on general elections outside the available remedies. A decree cannot lawfully cure the defects in the timetable.

This is a question of accountability now. Power is already being exercised without the legislature that would ordinarily check it. The authorities have yet to explain on what legal basis, within what limits and under whose oversight that power could be exercised after 22 February. Whatever continuity means for the office of the President, the country still needs answers about the rest of the transitional government and the absence of parliamentary oversight.

The five questions lead to a single conclusion. Without a valid power to postpone, the February date has no lawful footing. A date with no lawful footing cannot justify taking time away from voters and candidates. With Parliament dissolved, the body that could supply the missing legislative authority cannot act. And unless the transition is lawfully extended, a handover after 22 February leaves the wider exercise of power without a clear legal basis. The Commission’s explanation that it needs more time answers none of these points.

That conclusion follows even on the assumption that the 2026 reforms are valid. My primary conclusion also stands. The caretaker government rests on amendments adopted without the consent required by the peace agreement. More careful use of the powers claimed under those reforms cannot cure that defect at the foundation. On either reading, the February timetable cannot be lawfully defended on the basis the authorities have offered.

If a South Sudanese court sets aside the presidential or parliamentary results on these grounds, or a regional court with jurisdiction orders relief that requires them to be set aside, South Sudan could find itself beyond 22 February 2027 with no valid electoral mandate for the offices affected and Parliament still dissolved. Restoring legislative oversight or extending the transition would require separate legal authority. The Elections Act provides for a rerun without fresh nominations, so a second vote could carry forward the very exclusions that made the first vulnerable to challenge. Rival claims to govern could deepen divisions among the parties to the peace agreement, put the ceasefire under further strain and expose civilians to renewed violence. 

The writer, Dr. Remember Miamingi, is a South Sudanese expert in governance and human rights, as well as a political commentator. He can be contacted via email at remember.miamingi@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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