By Sidiki Fofana
Truth In Ink
When Senator Edwin Melvin Snowe of Bomi County recently visited the residence of President Joseph Nyuma Boakai, flanked by Vice President Jeremiah Koung and Senate Pro-Tempore Nyonblee Karnga-Lawrence, many viewed it as a turning point—a reunion of former Unity Party allies after years of political fighting. But what seemed like a soft handshake of reconciliation has quickly given way to a political firestorm.
Days later, the Government of Liberia, through a strongly worded statement by the Ministry of Information, accused Snowe of making “treasonable” remarks during a televised interview with Spoon TV. According to the Ministry, Snowe allegedly stated:
“I want Boakai to fail so he becomes a one-term President. I will use every available connection, including within ECOWAS, to ensure this government fails—even if that means discouraging foreign investment and destabilizing the country.”
Snowe has categorically denied the words, insisting that his comments were political, not treasonous. They were political strategy, and not sedition. “I am an opposition. And like every opposition in a democracy, I believe my rise is best assured when the incumbent falls,” Snowe clarified in follow-up remarks. The Government, however, has not taken it lightly.
This moment is more than a clash between a sitting president and a restless senator—it is a constitutional test, and Liberia is the courtroom.
Former President George M. Weah was one of the first to weigh in. In a rare public statement since leaving office attributed to the former president, he warned:
“To go after Snowe because of his expressed desire as opposition is to undermine free speech—a process we protected under the Abdullah Kamara Free Speech Act.”
Weah refers to the landmark 2019 legislation that decriminalized libel, sedition, and criminal malevolence—a move hailed by Reporters Without Borders as “an important step toward press freedom and democratic tolerance in West Africa.”
But the Boakai administration’s sharp rebuke of Snowe suggests a return to a more repressive posture—a move that many civil society actors fear may mark the reawakening of political intolerance, which echoes a dangerous Liberian pattern: criminalizing dissent in the name of patriotism.
And their fear isn’t rooted in paranoia—it’s grounded in blood. Police under the Boakai administration used brute force in Kanjor, Grand Cape Mount County, killing one protester and injuring several others. A similar crackdown followed a youth-led demonstration in Monrovia last month in support of Burkina Faso’s military leader, with authorities issuing stern warnings of prosecution.
We the People Protest movement, which is mobilizing what could become the largest public uprising on July 17 against the Boakai government, citing rising injustice and corruption, reports sustained police intimidation.
“Power concedes nothing without a demand,” Frederick Douglass once warned—and in Liberia today, such demands are being met not with dialogue, but with bullets , batons and bulletins.
As Kwame Nkrumah once cautioned, “Repression is the weapon of those who fear freedom.” Boakai’s administration appears to be wielding it with increasing frequency.
For many observers, the irony is palpable. In October 2023, during the heat of the presidential runoff, then-candidate Boakai was recorded saying:
“If I don’t win, Liberia will be finished.” The statement, made in Bong County at a campaign rally, was widely circulated but met with little criticism from his allies.
Even more troubling was the violent rhetoric and actions of Boakai’s longtime campaign surrogate, G. Nyanmanneh Sieh, who publicly threatened unrest should the Unity Party lose. Not long after, CDC partisan Saah Johnny was killed in Foyah, Lofa County-Boakai’s home town, under circumstances many believed were influenced by Nyanmanneh.
Rather than rebuking Nyanmanneh Sieh, Boakai rewarded him with the powerful post of Minister of Internal Affairs—a ministry tasked with maintaining domestic peace.
So the question becomes: how is Snowe’s political expression more dangerous than Boakai’s own threats of instability or Sieh’s bloody footprints in Lofa?
To objectively answer that question we delve into history. Liberia has walked this road before. In 1984, the Doe regime crushed dissent with arrests of opposition leaders and journalists, citing national security. In 2000, under President Charles Taylor, treason was a catch-all label slapped on critics, as Taylor infamously declared that “freedom of expression cannot be confused with national sabotage.”
Even Ellen Johnson Sirleaf, Liberia’s first female president and Snowe’s former mentor, once clamped down on perceived dissent. In 2011, after journalist Rodney Sieh published stories critical of the government, he was jailed under civil libel charges—sparking international outcry.
Similar sentiments were expressed during the Weah era, some Liberians opposed to Weah’s government called for international sanctions, organized near-daily protests, and spread messages deemed damaging to the country’s image were often branded as “enemies of the state.”
As Human Rights Watch cautioned in 2020, “The use of security rhetoric to silence peaceful protesters and critics in Liberia threatens civil liberties and weakens democratic resilience.”
This recurring pattern across successive administrations raises a sobering question: is patriotism in Liberia only defined by allegiance to the sitting president?
What these moments share is a dangerous precedent: governments defining patriotism as obedience, and criticism as treason.
“Liberian democracy has always walked a tightrope between tolerance and tyranny,” says Dr. Amos Sawyer, the late political scientist and interim president. “The health of a republic is measured not by how it treats the loyal, but how it tolerates dissent.”
Unity Party supporters argue that Snowe’s remarks cross a red line. One of Boakai’s most visible defenders, Martin Kollie, known to many as “Rescue Rambo”—did not mince words:
“Snowe is not a patriot. He is everything that is wrong with Liberia. He represents a class of opportunists who are willing to burn the house down if they’re not invited to the table.”
But others counter that real patriotism includes the willingness to oppose a government you believe is failing the people even if that means wishing for its political demise. As opposition lawmaker Yekeh Kolubah once famously said in 2021:
“You cannot love Liberia and silence yourself while the country burns, sometimes you must shout, even if they call it treason.”
Let us remember that President Boakai came to power promising integrity, inclusion, and democratic renewal. Yet his handling of the Snowe affair will further put a dirt on how his administration defines dissent. Will he become the president who welcomed criticism as a tool for national reflection, or one who branded it as a threat?
Liberia’s Constitution provides a way forward, in Article 15, guarantees free speech as a fundamental right. But it also demands responsibility from those who wield influence—be they in power or opposition.
Snowe’s comments may have been reckless. But recklessness is not always rebellion.
What is truly dangerous is the growing belief that speech critical of the regime equals betrayal of the state.
And so Snowe vs. Boakai is no longer a personal grudge, or a two persons disagreement. It is now a political precedent. If Boakai chooses to prosecute dissent as treason, he risks dragging Liberia back into an era of fear and suppression. If he chooses tolerance even when wounded by words he may just strengthen the very democracy he was elected to defend.
As the nation sits on edge watching, let us remember that democracy is not preserved through silence but through the uncomfortable, often agonizing work of disagreement.
Because in the end, Liberia’s greatest threat is not the Senator who wants the president to fail, it is a government that cannot tolerate being challenged.
In moments like these as the nation deciphers between dissent and disservice, history often reminds us, that the line between patriot and insurgent is often drawn not by principle, but by power.
About the Author
Sidiki Fofana is a seasoned expert in leadership development, institutional change, and grassroots political strategy. He holds a Master of Science in Organizational Development and Leadership and a Graduate Certificate in Cybersecurity from Saint Joseph’s University.
As the founder and lead columnist of Truth In Ink Incorporated, Fofana is widely recognized for his objective analysis of politics, ethics, and the shifting dynamics of Liberian democracy.
