Senegal’s theater of morality

As debt mounts and police violence on campuses goes unanswered, Senegal’s government is targeting its queer citizens.

"Theatre in a Box," by Senegalese artist Amadou Makhtar Mbaye. Photo by Ji-Elle via Wikimedia Commons Public Domain.

Let us be precise about what happened on March 11, 2026.

Senegal’s National Assembly voted to raise the maximum prison sentence for same-sex relations to ten years and to criminalize the “promotion” or “apology” of homosexuality. The usual commentators reached for the usual explanations: religion, culture, African values. These explanations are not just insufficient. They are a distraction. And distractions, in politics, are rarely accidental.

This is a story about a government drowning in debt, unable to protect its students from police violence, and reaching for the oldest tool in the postcolonial playbook: govern the bodies of the most vulnerable when you cannot govern anything else. This is a story about austerity falling on the people who voted for change. An HIV epidemic being driven underground. And a Massachusetts-based Christian-nationalist organization that quietly helped design this law while the Trump administration signed a health agreement with the Senegalese government that deliberately excludes the communities most endangered by it.

The theater of morality requires an audience looking the wrong way. This government is making sure they do.

On March 12, 2026, the same month the government paid $471 million to international creditors to avoid default, the National Assembly passed the anti-homosexuality legislation. That simultaneity is not coincidental. It is the whole point.

Public debt under Macky Sall was systematically falsified : reported at 74.4 percent of GDP when in reality closer to 99.7 percent in 2023, climbing to an estimated 119–132 percent by 2024. Thirteen billion dollars concealed from citizens and creditors alike. The IMF froze a $1.8 billion credit facility. External debt payments now consume over 50 percent of government revenue. Nineteen state agencies face cuts. Student scholarships go unpaid.

When states cannot deliver materially, when IMF conditionality forecloses fiscal space and transformative promises must be quietly abandoned, they deliver morally instead. Moral legislation costs nothing. It mobilizes religious authority, nationalist sentiment, and cultural anxiety simultaneously, at zero fiscal cost, generating political returns precisely where structural reform, strangled by a debt-to-GDP ratio approaching 132 percent, cannot.

But fiscal crisis does not create moral governance from nothing. It exploits a preexisting patriarchal architecture. Queer people do not become available for state discipline when the economy fails. They are already available because patriarchy has constructed them as legitimate objects of regulation independent of any economic cycle. The debt crisis does not invent this logic. It intensifies it.

On February 9, 2026, Abdoulaye Ba, a medical student at Cheikh Anta Diop University,  died during a police intervention following protests over unpaid scholarships. The state called it an accident. Senegal’s university teachers’ union, the SAES, and student bodies, named what the evidence suggests it was: police brutality.

Balla Gaye, 2001. Bassirou Faye, 2014. Mouhamadou Fallou Sène, 2018. Alpha Yéro Tounkara and Prosper Clédor Senghor, 2024. Abdoulaye Ba, 2026. Six students. Twenty-five years. Six official accidents. The SAES condemned with “the utmost force” what it characterized as excessive use of force, identified the structural roots: chronic budget deficits, understaffing, infrastructure backlogs produced by the same debt arithmetic that leaves scholarships unpaid, and held the government directly responsible. It had called in December 2025 for restraint and dialogue. It was not heard.

The same day Abdoulaye Ba died, military police arrested 12 men on charges of “acts against nature.” By early March, at least 37 suspected “men having sex with men” (MSM) had been remanded in custody. Three weeks after his death, the National Assembly approved tougher law targeting queer citizens with ten-year sentences.

Both protesting students and queer citizens represent forms of social disruption that a state under pressure finds intolerable. Both are disciplined through punitive instruments while harder questions go unanswered. Why were scholarships not paid? Who is accountable for six campus deaths over 25 years? The bodies being punished are not the problem. They are the cover story for the problem.

Reuters has reported that And Samm Jikko Yi, the network driving the legislation, contacted MassResistance, a Massachusetts-based organization that describes homosexuality as a public health threat, in December 2024 to discuss campaign tactics. This is the first known case of a US Christian-nationalist organization helping deliver a successful anti-queer law in Africa since Trump returned to power. MassResistance field director Arthur Schaper told Reuters that Trump “is not in the business of harassing and bullying countries to incorporate these destructive ideologies.” The State Department confirmed US foreign assistance no longer funds “divisive social and gender issues.”

On March 13, 2026 , one day after the law passed, Senegal signed a $90.4 million bilateral health MOU with the United States under Trump’s America First Global Health Strategy. The deal provides $63.1 million to fight HIV and malaria. What it excludes is as significant as what it includes: the gender-transformative programming that effective HIV responses among key populations require is gone. HIV prevalence among MSM reaches 49 percent in parts of Dakar against a national prevalence of 0.3 percent according to the Senegalese AIDS Control Council. Between February 9 and 24, 27 suspected MSM were arrested. Communities are in hiding or exile. The health infrastructure that kept people alive is being dismantled simultaneously by a law shaped in Massachusetts and an agreement signed in Washington the day after it passed.

This is imperial bodily governance in a new register. Domestic Senegalese patriarchy and American Christian nationalism are not parallel forces. They are finding common cause: mutually constitutive, mutually reinforcing, and together more dangerous than either alone, as was the case in Ghana. The laws imprisoning queer Senegalese people are not African. They derive from the French Penal Code of 1810, imposed during colonization to discipline African populations. Invoking African sovereignty to enforce colonial law with American Christian nationalist backing is not decolonization. It is, as researcher Ballet Djédjé argues, moral posturing, dependency dressed in liberation’s language.

The bromance turns sour

Faye and Sonko, the president and the prime minister elected on “Sonko mooy Domaye, Diomaye mooy Sonko,” are no longer running the same operation. Faye governs through institutional pragmatism: negotiating with the IMF, managing $13 billion of inherited debt, governing in the register fiscal crisis demands. Sonko governs through fire: the charismatic nationalist voice of moral authority, still promising justice to victims of pre-election protests that has yet to arrive.

In a moment when governing means telling people the revolution must wait, fire is a competitive advantage. Defending African values costs nothing structurally, mobilizes religiously, and simultaneously aligns Senegal with Trump’s cultural agenda, unlocking $90.4 million in health cooperation resources that this alignment makes available. That simultaneity is not incidental. It is part of the calculation.

Queer Senegalese people did not choose to be the stage for this performance, neither did women and all those who fought for political alternation two years ago and who find it hard to notice real change. Six dead students did not choose to be the collateral damage of 25 years of governance failure. These roles were assigned by ruling men navigating domestic fiscal crisis and Trump-shaped international opportunity simultaneously.

To those who genuinely believe this legislation represents African self-determination: The impulse deserves respect. The desire to define our values on our own terms, without Western condescension, is legitimate. I share it.

But sovereignty coordinated with a Massachusetts organization, celebrated by American Christian nationalists, conducted under Trump’s geopolitical cover, and implemented against 25 years of unaccountable campus deaths is not African self-determination. It is new dependency dressed in old resistance language.

The question that matters is not whether Senegalese morality needs defending. It is who benefits from this particular performance, at this particular moment of fiscal crisis, masculinist rivalry, and transnational intervention. What is Senegal trading, with whom, and who pays the price?

Abdoulaye Ba deserved to finish his degree. The five students before him deserved justice. Queer Senegalese people deserve dignity, safety, full citizen rights, and health cooperation designed for their survival, not exclusion from agreements designed to erase them. Senegal deserves governance serious enough to confront debt, patriarchy, and empire, rather than manufacturing new crises, with foreign assistance, on the bodies of those least able to fight back.

About the Author

Dr. Rama Salla Dieng is a political scientist and African feminist scholar whose research focuses on democratic governance, feminist movements, racial capitalism, and political economy in Senegal and Francophone Africa. She is the 2025 laureate of the Paula Kantor Award for Excellence in Field Research.

Further Reading