By Sidiki Fofana | Truth in Ink
Sanctions are often described by Washington as a tool of correction, meant to punish the corrupt, strengthen democracy, and uphold human rights. But in Liberia, where sanctions have touched nearly every era of modern politics, their meaning and effectiveness remain far more complicated.
Liberia has been a laboratory for U.S. sanctions. During Charles Taylor’s rule, they came in waves, on timber, on diamonds, on individuals. Officially, these measures were meant to cut off funding for war. In reality, they did little to weaken Taylor’s grip. Smuggling networks kept his wealth intact, while thousands of ordinary Liberians who depended on trade were left jobless.
Sanctions against used under Ellen Johnson Sirleaf. Washington placed Senator Varney Sherman and Speaker Alex Tyler on its sanctions list, accusing them of corruption and bribery. Both men pushed back. Sherman declared, “The Americans cannot run Liberia from Washington. Our laws are enough to try anyone.” Tyler, for his part, said the move was less about justice and more about crippling his political career.
Under George Weah, sanctions took on a new weight. The U.S. Treasury blacklisted some of his closest allies: Nathaniel McGill, Sayma Syrenius Cephus, Bill Twehway, Jefferson Koijee, Samuel Tweah, Emmanuel Nuquay and Albert Chea. Washington insisted the designations targeted “ongoing corruption that undermines Liberia’s democracy.” But many Liberians asked why certain officials were named while others, equally accused, were spared. As one CDC partisan remarked bitterly, “If sanctions were truly about corruption, the whole government should be gone.”
The inconsistency is hard to ignore. America punishes Liberian officials for corruption yet embraces leaders in other parts of the world with far worse records. Civil society activist Hassan Bility captured the frustration: “Sanctions are not about justice. They are about power. America sanctions weak countries like Liberia to make a point but closes its eyes to bigger thieves who are their allies.”
This selectivity undermines the very moral high ground Washington claims. If corruption is the standard, then why is accountability enforced only where U.S. leverage is easy and costs are low?
In Liberia, sanctions are not just legal tools, they are political weapons. A single announcement from the U.S. Treasury can end careers overnight.
McGill and Twehway were both threatened from running on their party’s ticket in the 2023 election while Senator Chea, who was already elected, saw his ambition to succeed himself as Pro-Tempore collapse overnight. Emmanuel Nuquay’s hope of becoming the next Pro-Tempore became nothing but an impossible wish because of his inclusion in the U.S. sanctions. The late Senator Prince Johnson through the insistence from the U. S. Embassy was removed from the powerful and strategic Senate Security Committee.
One commentator noted of former Finance Minister Samuel Tweah, “The day his name appeared on that list, his career was finished, not by the Liberian people , but by Washington.”
The same was true for Sherman under Sirleaf. Once regarded as a kingmaker, he was reduced to a liability the moment his name appeared in a sanctions release. Washington, in effect, did what Liberian opponents and courts could not.
A Liberian criminal justice practitioner recently asked the obvious but often ignored question: “How can sanctions be called correction?”
In a proper justice system, correction is the last stage. First there is investigation, then arrest, trial, and only after guilt is established does punishment or restitution follow. Sanctions skip all of that. There is no arrest, no trial, no opportunity for the accused to present a defense. The punishment begins and ends in Washington.
Even worse, there is no clear sentence. As a U.S. critic pointed out, punishment for the sake of reform usually has a defined duration, probation, imprisonment, restitution, all proportionate to the crime. U.S. sanctions, however, are indefinite. They drag on for years, sometimes for life, without any path for review or rehabilitation. This, the critic concluded, is “nothing but imperialism disguised in another form.”
What gets lost in the debate is the impact on ordinary Liberians. During Taylor’s years, sanctions deepened poverty as industries collapsed. In recent times, sanctions have fueled political instability without addressing the deeper rot in governance.
A market woman in Red Light put it best: “We hear about sanctions every day, but my business is still the same, suffering. It doesn’t change anything for us, only for the big people who can’t travel.”
America’s Own Words
The U.S. government defends its actions as impartial. In a 2022 statement, the Treasury said: “The United States stands with Liberians in their efforts to root out corruption. These designations demonstrate that the U.S. will continue to promote accountability for those who undermine democracy.”
But the real question for Liberians is not what America says sanctions are for. It is why we must ask: have these sanctions been effective, curtailing corruption or creating a more accountable society? To answer this, we must look not at America’s intentions but at the results on the ground, and at what cost they have come.
Now under President Joseph Nyuma Boakai, the question of sanctions still hangs over Liberian politics. His government has promised reform, but already there is talk in Washington that U.S. sanctions will again be used as a “cleaning broom” against officials accused of corruption.
Some see it as an opportunity for Boakai to demonstrate seriousness by cooperating with international partners. Others worry it will become yet another tool for Washington to decide which Liberians rise and which fall.
A University of Liberia professor summed it up recently: “Sanctions may remove a few bad apples, but they do not change the basket. If Boakai is serious about reform, it must be Liberians, not the U.S., who hold leaders accountable.”
A Tool or a Weapon?
Liberia’s experience suggests sanctions are double-edged. They have exposed wrongdoing and embarrassed powerful elites, but they have also undermined sovereignty, punished ordinary citizens, and left the larger system of corruption untouched.
Sanctions, in the end, are not neutral. They are political choices, shaped by power and interests. Until this contradiction is resolved, they will remain a contested tool, welcomed by some, condemned by others, but always leaving Liberians to wrestle with their consequences.
