Rewriting the Republic: The DRC's Third-Term Question Ahead of 2028

Article 220 of the Democratic Republic of the Congo's Constitution is unusually blunt. It forbids any amendment that would reduce or extend the number or length of presidential terms. The drafters of the 2006 text meant it to be the one door that stays locked.

In July 2026, the country's Constitutional Court approved a law that could open that door without touching the lock. Our new study, The Constitutional Legitimacy Crisis in the Democratic Republic of the Congo Ahead of the 2028 Elections, by political science researcher Atef Mahmoud Dobal, examines how President Félix Tshisekedi's camp has reached this point, who is resisting it, and why the international pressure that usually greets moves of this kind has been muted.

The study's central argument is that no single factor explains the crisis. Four tracks, legal, political, popular and international, are moving at once, and the author contends that together they currently favour the incumbent.

A Constitution Built to Prevent Another Mobutu

The DRC's Third Republic rests on the 2006 Constitution, which caps the presidency at two five-year terms, ten years in all. The study notes that Article 220's absolute ban was a deliberate safeguard against the personal rule of Mobutu Sese Seko, the army officer who held power from 1965 to 1997 and renamed the country Zaire.

Tshisekedi took office in 2019 and won re-election in 2023. His second and final term ends in 2028. Under the existing framework, his critics argue, no provision gives him a single day beyond that.

The Workaround: "Major Institutional Dysfunction"

Amending Article 220 directly would be unconstitutional on its face. The study shows how the ruling majority chose a different route.

On 9 June 2026, the National Assembly passed a bill regulating referendums. Opposition deputies had boycotted parliament for weeks in protest, and the vote went ahead without them; 348 of the 351 deputies present voted in favour. The law allows the provisions on presidential terms to be amended only in the event of a "major institutional dysfunction" that paralyses state institutions, through a constituent assembly followed by a popular referendum.

According to the study, ruling-coalition lawmakers have pointed to the country's overlapping crises, from war in the east to the Ebola epidemic, to present a new constitutional text as an urgent necessity. The implications are significant. A new constitution would inaugurate a new republic and reset the presidential clock, so Tshisekedi's previous terms would fall outside the legal count. A third term would become possible without anyone amending Article 220 at all.

The law then passed through the courts. On 28 July, the Constitutional Court ruled it consistent with the Constitution while attaching reservations to several provisions. On 10 August, Tshisekedi formally asked the presidents of the National Assembly and the Senate to reconsider the text in light of the Court's observations, and the Assembly placed it on the agenda of its September session.

From "Constitution of Foreigners" to "I Will Accept"

The study tracks a steady hardening in the president's language. In 2024, Tshisekedi called the current text the "constitution of foreigners", without offering evidence for the label, and announced a committee of experts to review it. His remarks came shortly before the Congo River Alliance (AFC) and the March 23 Movement (M23), which UN experts say Rwanda backs, seized major eastern cities including Goma and Bukavu.

By May 2026 the hint had become an open position. At a press conference in Kinshasa, he said: "I did not ask for a third term, but I am telling you: if the people want me to have a third term, I will accept." He also raised the possibility that the elections could be postponed. His party, the Union for Democracy and Social Progress (UDPS), launched a popular campaign for constitutional reform at the same time.

The presidential camp frames the initiative as an exercise of popular sovereignty. The legislator who authored the referendum bill put it this way: "The sovereign people who decided in 2006 on the limits enshrined in the current Constitution can make a new decision today. Therefore, those limits are not binding on the sovereign people."

The Minerals Shield

The study's most pointed argument concerns the outside world. The DRC produces roughly 70% of the world's cobalt and holds vast copper reserves, both essential to batteries and the energy transition. Western governments, and the United States in particular, fear losing access to these supply chains to competitors such as China.

The author argues that this dependence has given the Tshisekedi administration a "geopolitical shield". Western capitals appear to have held back from diplomatic or economic penalties on the executive, so each domestic step, from the referendum law to the Court ruling to the expected parliamentary review, has advanced without external pressure strong enough to slow it.

The study adds a second layer. On 30 April 2026, the US Treasury sanctioned former President Joseph Kabila, accusing him of financial and political ties to the AFC and M23. The stated aim of such measures is to fight impunity in the region, and Washington had already sanctioned Rwanda's military in March over its support for M23. Within Congolese domestic politics, however, the author contends that the effect has been uneven: the measures weakened the credibility and resources of the old opposition establishment, while the government-led constitutional process faced no equivalent cost. Whatever the intent, the study concludes, the outcome has tilted the field towards the incumbent.

The Opposition Closes Ranks

Resistance arrived quickly. Moïse Katumbi, runner-up in the 2023 presidential election and now in exile, became one of its leading voices. "The Constitution is not a shirt that can be changed however we please," he said. "President Tshisekedi himself swore before this Constitution... that he would respect it. A leader must put the interests of the people first." He called the dysfunction clause a ploy to carry out a "constitutional coup" and warned that the president would bear responsibility for any killings.

Long-divided opposition figures then did something unusual and united. Katumbi, Martin Fayulu and Delly Sesanga, all former presidential candidates, formed the Article 64 Coalition, known as C64. The name carries weight. Article 64 of the Constitution obliges citizens to resist any individual or group that seizes power by force or exercises it in breach of the Constitution, which gives the coalition both a legal argument and a rallying cry. Its leaders organised sit-ins and mass protests aimed at parliament at the Palais du Peuple in Kinshasa.

The Catholic Church added institutional weight. After a three-day roundtable, the National Episcopal Conference of Congo (CENCO) issued a statement on 20 June describing the country as a "nation in danger". The bishops rejected any manoeuvre to change or rewrite the Constitution, urged Tshisekedi to honour his oath, and warned that imposing a third term on a deeply divided population risked fragmenting the country and igniting civil war. In a country where the Church has long acted as a political counterweight, that language matters.

Streets, Courts and a Dialogue With Limits

The study documents how the dispute moved from parliament to the street. During the June protests in Kinshasa, security forces used tear gas and live ammunition. Fayulu was seen bloodied on the front lines and, according to the study, Sesanga was shot in the leg. Human Rights Watch later documented injuries to more than a dozen protesters, opposition leaders among them. Local authorities played down the casualties, while rights groups and local media reported deaths. The author argues that the crackdown turned a technical legal argument into an unpredictable street confrontation, and drew disparate social groups together against the government.

The Court's July ruling deepened the anger. C64 denounced it as "high treason" and said the Court had forfeited its credibility. The secretary-general of Katumbi's party said the ruling "confirms the conspiracy against the constitutional order and paves the way for the partition of the Republic."

When the coalition called fresh protests in mid-September, authorities banned the march in Lubumbashi, and protesters went ahead and were quickly dispersed. In Kinshasa, an authorised march began peacefully before protesters and government supporters clashed, both sides throwing stones and brandishing blades, and police moved in.

Tshisekedi has offered an exit of sorts. In August he proposed an inclusive national dialogue bringing together political parties, civil society and religious groups, and on 28 August he set out a three-month framework for it. From the outset, though, he ruled out those he accuses of siding with Rwanda or taking up arms. The study treats that exclusion as a defining limit on what the dialogue can achieve.

Four Tracks Moving in One Direction

The study's analytical core is its four-level model. On the legal track, the dysfunction mechanism sidesteps Article 220 without amending it. On the political track, the president's discourse has moved from questioning the Constitution to openly accepting a third term. On the popular track, the opposition, the churches and civil society are resisting with growing intensity and at real human cost. On the international track, dependence on Congolese minerals keeps the external price low.

What sets this crisis apart, the author argues, is that the tracks reinforce one another. Legal cover lends the political ambition legitimacy; international restraint gives the legal process room; and the popular resistance, for all its breadth, has not yet turned into an effective obstacle to the mechanism itself.

Three Possible Futures

From this model, the study sets out three scenarios.

The first, which the author considers most consistent with the current evidence, sees the mechanism continue to advance. Parliament completes its review, a constituent assembly follows, and a referendum opens the way to a third term. Tshisekedi would benefit from continued geopolitical protection and from an opposition weakened by the sanctions on its traditional leadership.

The second sees mounting popular and institutional resistance force the executive to modify or postpone its plans through the national dialogue. The study is cautious here. Because Tshisekedi has already excluded key actors, a dialogue is less likely to produce a settlement capable of halting the legal process.

The third is the most dangerous. Polarisation continues with no clear winner: the legal process advances on paper while street violence and casualties rise. That path, the author warns, would bring the country closer to the fragmentation and civil war the bishops warned of, without necessarily stopping the constitutional process itself.

Since the Study Was Written

Events have continued along the lines the study describes. On 21 September, the speaker of the National Assembly sent the referendum law back to committee to incorporate the Court's reservations, with the text expected to return to plenary. The national dialogue now has a presidential organising committee, which consulted CENCO and the Church of Christ in Congo in early October, but no date has been fixed. On 9 October, Joseph Kabila addressed the nation, casting himself as the guardian of the 2006 Constitution and condemning the resumption of parliamentary work on the law; a government spokesperson replied that the former president had nothing to offer but chaos.

What Would Change the Outcome

The study's conclusion is measured. The constitutional project draws its strength from the way four factors interact. If none of them shifts, the status quo favours completion of the process towards a referendum. A negotiated settlement would require the authorities to widen the negotiating table. Continued escalation becomes likely if tensions persist without a political answer.

The DRC built Article 220 so that no future leader could stay on by rewriting the rules. Whether that safeguard survives 2028 may now turn on forces no drafter could write into law: the resolve of Congolese citizens who are resisting at real cost, and the willingness of foreign partners to weigh constitutional order against cobalt.

Download the full study here

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