By Cllr. Tiawan Saye Gongloe (former Presidential Candidate)
Liberia, Africa’s first independent republic, began with an extraordinary promise — a free land of liberty established on the aspiration to be governed like the stable democracies of the West and to serve as a shining example of African peoples’ capacity for good governance.
From the diplomacy of Joseph Jenkins Roberts, the moral idealism of James Spriggs Payne, and the modernizing ambition of William V. S. Tubman, to the reform efforts of William R. Tolbert Jr. and the post-war reconstruction led by Ellen Johnson Sirleaf, successive generations of Liberian leadership have each made important contributions.
Yet one persistent national weakness has limited Liberia’s progress for more than 177 years, ever since we inaugurated our first president in January 1848.It is a destructive mindset that I refer to as “the at least mentality.”
This mindset expresses itself in phrases such as, “At least we are not as bad as others,” “At least we tried,” “At least we built something small,” or “At least things are calm.” It is a mentality that lowers expectations, excuses incompetence, tolerates corruption, and ultimately blocks the transformational leadership that Liberia desperately needs. It has shaped presidencies from Joseph Jenkins Roberts to Joseph Nyuma Boakai and continues to weaken our governance culture.
A Personal Reflection
During the 2023 presidential campaign, I traveled to 354 towns across all 73 electoral districts of Liberia because I wanted to see, with my own eyes, the problems I was seeking the people’s approval to solve. The journey revealed the heartbreaking reality of Liberia’s underdevelopment and backwardness.
I encountered terrible road conditions—roads so bad that my vehicles were often stuck in the mud, forcing me to walk long distances with ordinary Liberians. I saw poorly equipped schools, clinics without medicines, and communities with little or no agricultural activity.
In the remotest towns, imported rice filled local shops, despite the enormous agricultural potential of our country. I saw no serious government agricultural program aimed at changing this situation. In several communities, the hopelessness and suffering of our people brought tears to my eyes. The situation motivated me, more than before, to pursue my journey to the presidency, even more vigorously.
Recently, I traveled from Liberia to Guinea, through Sierra Leone by road for the first time. It was an eye-opening trip. That journey made one thing painfully clear: Liberia has the worst road on the entire route. Sierra Leone’s section is better. Guinea’s section is better. Liberia—the country with the highest natural wealth per capita on the Mano River corridor—has the worst infrastructure. It is a direct consequence of the at least mentality: a culture of low ambition and low performance.
These experiences inspired me to study Liberia’s past leadership, evaluating their strengths, weaknesses, failures, and the patterns that continue to shape our national life. I share these reflections to reduce the widespread ignorance of our history of governance. Awareness is the foundation of national transformation.
Leadership Across Generations
Joseph Jenkins Roberts led Liberia to independence and secured vital diplomatic recognition for Liberia, built early administrative systems, as well as defended Liberia’s sovereignty. Yet his leadership, like many that followed, normalized the idea that Liberia should be satisfied with survival rather than transformation.
The presidents who followed him in the 19th century—Daniel Warner, James Payne, Anthony Gardiner, Hilary Johnson, Arthur Barclay—sustained the nation but did not fundamentally transform it. Their administrations were often judged by the low standard of “at least the country is still standing.”
A brief look at Liberia’s presidents who share the same first name reveals striking patterns that illuminate the persistence of the at least mentality. The three presidents named William—Coleman, Tubman, and Tolbert—each attempted reforms, though with markedly different outcomes. William D. Coleman was reform-minded but resigned under political pressure. William V. S. Tubman expanded infrastructure and opened Liberia’s economy, yet he centralized power so tightly that the system became unsustainable after his death.
His successor, William R. Tolbert Jr., pursued bold reforms but inherited an inflexible governance structure and lacked the political will and force required to reshape it. In each case, Liberians excused presidential shortcomings with statements like, “At least he is better than the last president.”
The three Charleses—C.D.B. King, Charles Taylor, and Charles Gyude Bryant—governed during periods marked by scandal, conflict, or transition. King resigned under pressure from the National Legislature following an international forced-labor investigation. Taylor led Liberia into deeper conflict and ultimately resigned under military pressure from rebel forces.
Bryant managed to restore peace during his two-year transitional term but presided over widespread corruption and was later prosecuted after leaving office. Although acquitted by a jury, he remains the only Liberian leader ever prosecuted for corruption. Even during these turbulent periods, the public instinct was to say, “At least the war ended,” when referring to Bryant, or “At least he was a strong leader,” when speaking of Taylor.
The presidencies of Joseph James Cheeseman and, more recently, Joseph Nyuma Boakai, reflect similar patterns of inherited challenges, elevated public expectations, and the recurring temptation to judge leadership by comparing it to the failures of previous administrations rather than the country’s actual needs.
For any conscious Liberian, it is troubling—if not offensive—to hear statements like, “At least Joseph Nyuma Boakai is trying more than Weah.” Such comparisons are themselves evidence of failed leadership benchmarks. In Namibia, for example, citizens have witnessed tangible positive change in less than three months under the new leadership, proving that meaningful progress does not require excuses—it requires vision, discipline, and effective governance.
A Leadership Warning for 2024–2029
President Joseph Nyuma Boakai, who now occupies the presidency, and all those seeking the office in 2029, must pay close attention to the analysis in this publication. No leader can solve a national problem without understanding its roots. Liberia’s problems are not merely physical—they are historical, structural, and psychological.
Based on my journeys across Liberia, the presidency is not a ceremonial title. It is not a personal achievement or a social status. In order to be a successful president in Liberia, the presidency must be seen as a national project-management assignment. The president must function as the country’s chief project manager, responsible for putting Liberia on the path followed by countries such as Botswana, Cape Verde, Mauritius, Rwanda, and Seychelles—countries that prioritize accountability, service, and national development.
And here is a truth that Liberia must confront: No matter what we do, if we do not see government as a place to serve and not to steal, a few people will continue to live well while the masses suffer in poverty. Such inequality makes national reconciliation nearly impossible. A hungry man is an angry man.
In a country where the majority are hungry, peace is fragile, reconciliation is difficult, and unity is virtually impossible. Oh yes! National unity is impossible in a society where a privileged few begin their morning with a glass of champagne while the majority spend their day searching for something as basic as clean drinking water. No nation can reconcile or unite under such extremes of inequality.
Government is a place to serve, not to steal.
The Urgency of Rejecting the “At Least Mentality”
No country in the world has ever developed by celebrating minimum standards or excusing poor leadership. Liberia’s tragedy is not just corruption or poverty; it is the acceptance of low performance in high office. For more than a century and a half, Liberians have measured leadership not by what is possible, but by what is less bad than before.
Liberia deserves more. Liberia deserves excellence, courage, discipline, efficiency, and accountability. Ending the at least mentality is not optional—it is the first step toward national renewal.
Is This Commentary Relevant Today?
Yes. Desperately so. Liberia stands at a crossroads, facing broken systems, widespread corruption, collapsing infrastructure, poor schools, weak healthcare, food insecurity, mass unemployment, a disillusioned youth population, and weakening national cohesion. If we do not confront our national psychology now, our future will mirror our past.
I share this commentary not to accuse or attack, but to enlighten, educate, and awaken the nation. Liberia can rise, but only if Liberians stop excusing failures and begin demanding excellence from themselves and their leaders.
Conclusion
The greatest obstacle to Liberia’s progress has never been any one president, region, or political party. It has been the at least mentality, a quiet but powerful force that holds the nation back. Liberia must stop celebrating survival and begin building a nation worthy of its potential. The message is simple, timeless, and essential: Government is a place to serve, not to steal.
