Institutionalized Improbability: How Cameroon’s Constitutional Order Systematically Denies Former Southern Cameroonians a Path to Supreme Authority

Former Southern Cameroonians have not been absent from public life. They have served as ministers, parliamentary leaders, and senior administrators. But these roles have largely remained symbolically inclusive while structurally constrained—representation without authority, presence without power.

By Ndifor Richard M. The Independentistnews contributor

Cameroon’s Ambazonian conflict did not arise suddenly, nor is it the result of misunderstanding or political extremism. It is the predictable outcome of a political system in which exclusion is not codified explicitly in law, but embedded in institutional practice. Over more than six decades, Cameroon has developed a governance structure that formally permits participation while structurally denying former Southern Cameroonians any realistic pathway to supreme state authority. This condition may best be described as institutionalized improbability—a system where inclusion exists in theory, but access to power is foreclosed in practice.

This conflict is therefore not rooted solely in cultural or linguistic marginalization. It is grounded in constitutional design choices and institutional arrangements that deny long-term political security to a founding political community. Until this reality is confronted honestly and addressed deliberately, Cameroon will remain trapped in cycles of instability, mistrust, and recurring conflict.

The 1961 reunification between Southern Cameroons and La République du Cameroun was based on the principle of partnership, not absorption. Southern Cameroonians entered the union with expectations of political equality, constitutional safeguards, and shared sovereignty. Yet the federal constitution that followed contained no entrenched minority protections, no mutual-consent requirements for constitutional change, and no structural mechanisms to prevent demographic domination.

This absence was not merely an oversight. It created the conditions for a system in which Southern Cameroonian political influence could be gradually diluted, managed, and neutralized—without violating formal legality. Power was centralized, while safeguards were never institutionalized.

Nothing illustrates this dynamic more clearly than the evolution of Cameroon’s presidential succession architecture. At moments when former Southern Cameroonians occupied positions that plausibly placed them on a path to the presidency, constitutional structures were altered. Offices were abolished, succession routes were redesigned, and institutional hierarchies were reconfigured. The Vice-Presidency—once a direct constitutional route to the presidency—was removed. The Prime Ministership gained succession relevance only when it was securely held by trusted figures from former French Cameroon. Later, the Speakership regained constitutional importance only after it passed into similar hands.

At no point did the constitution formally prohibit a former Southern Cameroonian from becoming president. Yet at every decisive moment, the system was adjusted to ensure that this outcome remained practically impossible. This is the essence of institutionalized improbability: exclusion without explicit prohibition, control without overt discrimination.

Former Southern Cameroonians have not been absent from public life. They have served as ministers, parliamentary leaders, and senior administrators. But these roles have largely remained symbolically inclusive while structurally constrained—representation without authority, presence without power.

Real power in Cameroon is concentrated in a narrow set of institutions: The presidency, security services, territorial administration, electoral management bodies, and constitutional adjudication. These structures remain tightly controlled through executive appointment systems, with no enforceable regional balance, minority safeguards, or institutional veto powers. Representation exists, but conversion of representation into authority is structurally blocked.

This imbalance has produced a political culture where inclusion is treated as concession rather than right, and loyalty is rewarded while autonomy is penalized.

When institutions consistently fail to protect a community, trust in those institutions collapses. The Ambazonian conflict is therefore not simply a security crisis—it is a legitimacy crisis. Courts that do not reflect common-law traditions, administrations that marginalize the English language, electoral processes perceived as predetermined, and a constitution offering no credible path to shared power are not abstract grievances. They are lived experiences that communicate exclusion daily.

When peaceful protest was met with repression rather than reform, radicalization followed. This trajectory was neither accidental nor inevitable. It was the predictable consequence of long-term institutional closure and constitutional neglect.

If Cameroon is to move beyond crisis management toward sustainable peace, it must move beyond symbolic gestures and embrace intentional constitutional reform. This is not a matter of charity, but of political responsibility. The constitution must explicitly recognize former Southern Cameroonians as a founding political community, not merely a linguistic minority comparable to ethnic groups such as the Bamileke, Sawa, Eton, Ewondo, or Fulani. Founding status creates constitutional obligation. Without obligation, rights remain symbolic.

Cameroon must adopt enforceable mechanisms preventing the indefinite monopolization of supreme authority by any single political community. This may include shared or rotational executive arrangements between former French Cameroonians and former Southern Cameroonians, dual-executive models, or guaranteed access to succession-relevant offices.

Any constitutional amendment affecting the form of the state, the judiciary, or regional autonomy should require enhanced approval thresholds, including the consent of former Southern Cameroonians. A bilateral union cannot legitimately be transformed into a unitary system through majoritarian demographics alone, because such a process permanently subordinates one founding partner to the other.

Electoral bodies, courts, and regional administrations must be insulated from unilateral executive control. Without institutional independence, political participation remains performative rather than substantive.

Form must follow function. Whether through federalism or deep constitutional asymmetry, regions carved out of former Southern Cameroons must exercise genuine self-governance, not delegated authority that can be withdrawn at will.

In the end, probability is the true measure of justice. Inclusion is not proven by theoretical eligibility, but by practical possibility. In Cameroon, the probability of a former Southern Cameroonian attaining supreme authority has been systematically engineered toward zero. That is not unity—it is managed imbalance.

Peace will not emerge from denying this reality. It will come only when the state accepts that stability cannot be built on institutional exclusion, and that constitutional justice is not a concession to former Southern Cameroonians, but a condition for Cameroon’s survival as a unified polity.

The choice is clear: continue defending a system of improbability, or deliberately build one of shared confidence. History will record which path was taken.

Ndifor Richard M.