Prepared by the researche : Amr Rashad Ismail – Expert in African Affairs
DAC Democratic Arabic Center GmbH
Cameroon heads toward a presidential election on October 12, 2025, amid a highly polarized political landscape. The candidacy of Paul Biya, now 92, for an eighth term places the question of succession at the heart of public debate and deepens doubts about the competitiveness of the contest. The Cameroon People’s Democratic Movement maintains its institutional grip after years of reshaping the rules of the game in its favor, while the exclusion of Biya’s most prominent rival, Maurice Kamto, alters the balance of competition early on. The decision to postpone legislative and local elections to 2026 consolidated the ruling party’s organizational and political advantage, reducing the opposition’s chances of building representative momentum before the presidential vote. At this intersection of political old age and institutional ossification, the 2025 election turns from a mere race into a referendum on the continuity of an entire system of governance and the limits of its capacity for renewal.
The final list of candidates reflects quantitative congestion without qualitative balance: thirteen names led by Biya, alongside seasoned figures returning from long alliances with the regime, such as Bello Bouba Maïgari and Issa Tchiroma, and others betting on political rejuvenation, like Cabral Libii. Legal and organizational maneuvers by figures such as Akere Muna and Joshua Osih attempt to redefine the “possible” opposition within existing rules of the game, while Kamto’s exit shrinks a protest vote bloc that could have forced a tumultuous second round or at least unified the rhetoric of change. Infighting within opposition parties, disputes over party legitimacy, and the lack of equal resources render “opposition unity” more of a theoretical notion than an operational plan—leaving Biya in pole position so long as the rules of engagement remain unchanged.
On the security front, the country enters the contest while facing three simultaneous flashpoints: separatist conflict in the English-speaking regions, Boko Haram attacks in the Far North, and refugee pressures from the Central African Republic. These dynamics undermine the inclusivity of the vote through large-scale displacement, the targeting of educational and public service infrastructure, and forced “shutdowns” imposed by armed groups—likely producing wide disparities in turnout across regions and severe tests for the neutrality of security forces. In the background, ethnic and political hate speech is intensifying on digital platforms, and confidence in institutional arbitration of electoral disputes is eroding. Any escalation on the ground on the eve of polling could lead to calls for partial delays, localized security arrangements, or even an “electoral truce” in hotspots—all stopgap measures that fail to address the roots of the crisis.
Economically and socially, the elections unfold in a fragile environment: nominal growth of around 4% that does not trickle down to households, widespread poverty exceeding 40%, suffocating youth unemployment, and corruption allegations undermining the efficiency of public spending. Administrative dysfunction—from difficulties obtaining identity cards to the complex registration of voters, especially among the displaced—raises the cost of participation and produces a “silent exclusion” of entire social blocs. Externally, the interests of France, China, and Russia converge with different tools—investment, security support, and information warfare—adding weight to the balance of legitimacy and complicating the engineering of domestic consensus. Within this equation, the ballot’s outcome hinges on three factors: the regime’s ability to manage risks without resorting to blatant repression that could return the streets to boiling point; the opposition’s success in offering a consensual standard-bearer rather than a multiplicity of banners; and the presence of practical guarantees that narrow the trust gap with voters and keep the path of political transition open beyond election day.
First: Features of the Scene in Cameroon
Cameroon enters a highly sensitive electoral phase as the presidential contest of October 2025 approaches, in a landscape torn between the continuity of a political system approaching half a century in power and a society increasingly weary of stagnation and weakened institutions. President Paul Biya, who has ruled since 1982, is once again a candidate, amid growing questions about his health and capacity to govern, having now passed the age of ninety. While the ruling system portrays him as a symbol of stability, his long stay in power has bred public fatigue and opened the door to fears of a potential constitutional vacuum should he suddenly exit the scene—particularly in the absence of any clear succession plan or consensus within the ruling party about his replacement. This uncertainty makes the upcoming election less a democratic competition than a test of the regime’s survival itself.
These political calculations intersect with institutional decisions that have strengthened the ruling party’s grip, foremost among them the postponement of legislative and local elections to 2026. This move gave the Cameroon People’s Democratic Movement the chance to entrench its dominance and tighten the noose around an opposition deprived of its representative tools. Although authorities justified the delay as a way to avoid “electoral congestion,” the opposition denounced it as a calculated maneuver to keep state institutions under regime control during the presidential race, thereby reducing the likelihood of challengers capable of mobilizing popular bases or making a breakthrough in the political scene. This manipulation of the electoral calendar has deepened the crisis of trust between citizens and the regime, reviving longstanding accusations of fraud and the abuse of state institutions to perpetuate one-man rule.
On the security front, Cameroon faces a volatile scene no less complex than its political crisis. The conflict in the English-speaking regions, ongoing since 2017, has escalated into an armed struggle that displaced hundreds of thousands and shut down schools and hospitals, while national dialogue initiatives failed to calm tensions or open genuine negotiations with separatists. As the vote approaches, serious risks loom of renewed violence or disruption of the electoral process in those areas. At the same time, Boko Haram continues to threaten the Far North, coinciding with the devastating impact of climate change and flooding that has further weakened infrastructure there. These overlapping security challenges threaten to disenfranchise wide segments of the electorate and undermine the legitimacy of the results in advance, while also raising suspicions that the regime is exploiting these conditions to suppress opposition votes.
Economically, the picture is no less bleak. Although the government announced economic growth of nearly 4% in 2024, this growth has not reached most citizens, with around 40% living below the poverty line and youth unemployment at alarming levels. Currency shortages and lack of small change have added new burdens for citizens, while flooding in the north has deepened social frustration. This troubled economic environment has provided fertile ground for scattered protests over rising prices and poor services, increasing pressure on the regime and amplifying the opposition’s calls for change among growing segments of society. Yet the opposition’s ability to turn this discontent into meaningful electoral power remains highly uncertain.
The opposition itself suffers from institutional weakness and deep divisions that prevent it from forming a united front. Initiatives to consolidate ranks—such as the “Political Alliance for Change”—have stumbled over ideological differences and legal restrictions requiring parliamentary or local representation for candidacy, which excluded some forces from the race. In addition, opposition leaders and activists face escalating repression: arrests, legal prosecutions, and bans on political events that shrink their presence on the ground. The repeated exclusion of prominent figures like Maurice Kamto, who placed second in the 2018 election, illustrates the scale of restrictions and confirms that the regime prefers a predetermined contest over a genuine competition.
With the opposition weakened, civil society and the Catholic Church have emerged as actors trying to fill the gap through campaigns to register voters or calls for national dialogue. Yet these efforts collide with a repressive environment that restricts free expression and clamps down on independent organizations. The arrest of journalists and closure of media outlets send a clear signal that the regime does not welcome scrutiny or independent voices that might expose its practices. While unofficial polls suggest rising public frustration, the lack of effective tools to channel this anger into meaningful political action leaves the equation tilted in favor of the ruling system.
The external dimension cannot be ignored, adding further complexity to the scene. Russia has expanded its presence through media platforms promoting pro-government narratives, while France seeks to preserve its historic influence through economic and security support, and China invests heavily in infrastructure projects. This external entanglement turns the election into a battleground where international interests converge, further sensitizing the internal scene—especially as the regime uses anti-Western rhetoric as a tool to mobilize its base. Meanwhile, international pressure from organizations and UN bodies persists, but with limited impact given the weakness of independent monitoring mechanisms, raising fears of an international legitimacy crisis if the results are predictable yet lacking credibility.
Thus, the upcoming presidential election in Cameroon appears far from a routine exercise. Rather, it is closer to a comprehensive test of the country’s ability to avoid sliding into deeper division and instability. The pressing question now goes beyond who wins or loses at the ballot box, to whether the political system itself can renew its legitimacy—or if it is nearing its historical end amid a fractured domestic landscape and mounting external pressures.
Second: The Main Candidates in Cameroon’s Presidential Race
Cameroon approaches its upcoming presidential election with a list of thirteen candidates approved by the electoral commission. Yet attention is focused on a small group of figures seen as the most likely challengers to President Paul Biya. At 92 years old, Biya remains the frontrunner, despite widespread debate over his physical ability to lead the country for another seven years. His political career, stretching back to 1982, has made him more than just a president—he is the embodiment of the ruling party’s dominance over political life. He relies on a vast institutional and administrative network that tilts the balance in his favor. His announced electoral program highlighted issues concerning youth and women, but it seemed more like an attempt to refresh the regime’s traditional discourse than a genuine reform plan—prompting his opponents to question the sincerity of the promised change.
Challenging Biya is Bello Bouba Maigari, a veteran politician from the north who is trying to reclaim his place in the political arena after decades of cooperation with the regime. Maigari was Biya’s first prime minister before breaking away to form his own party, the National Union for Democracy and Progress. His long alliance with the ruling party helped solidify Biya’s electoral strength in the north, but internal pressure recently pushed him to run independently. His campaign portrays him as an alternative capable of representing northern constituencies and restoring balance within central power. However, his long history of proximity to the regime undermines his credibility among voters seeking a clean break from the past.
Another challenger is Issa Tchiroma Bakary, once one of Biya’s prominent allies and a veteran of multiple government posts before resigning to present himself as a serious contender. Bakary, who now leads the National Front for the Salvation of Cameroon, frames his program as a rupture with what he describes as the “stifling” current system, promising a comprehensive restructuring of state institutions. His campaign draws on his political base in the north as well, but his long career within the ruling establishment may make it difficult to convince voters that he can truly bring about transformative change outside the shadow of the regime.
On the other side of the generational spectrum is Cabral Libii, representing a younger cohort and more explicitly reformist discourse. Libii, the youngest candidate in the 2018 race, won about 6% of the vote at the time and now seeks to expand his base by appealing to unemployed youth and marginalized groups. As leader of the Cameroon Party for National Reconciliation, he has focused on fighting corruption, reforming institutions, and broadening political participation. His parliamentary experience since 2020 has given his campaign new momentum, but internal party divisions and challenges to his leadership by founder Robert Kona have hampered his emergence as a unifying opposition leader. Even so, Libii is seen as one of the strongest challengers, especially in the absence of Maurice Kamto, Biya’s most dangerous rival in 2018.
Akere Muna, an internationally known lawyer and outspoken anti-corruption figure, has also returned to the scene. Muna withdrew at the last minute in 2018 in favor of Kamto, but this time he is running as an independent. His platform centers on returning Cameroon to the right track through a five-year transitional plan that promises to establish the foundations of good governance and curb entrenched corruption. What sets Muna apart is his stature beyond traditional politics: his international profile and experience in global legal and human rights forums lend him credibility among civil society and the elite. Yet questions remain about his ability to penetrate the wider popular base in a context where the ruling party monopolizes resources and public discourse.
Finally, Joshua Osih, leader of the Social Democratic Front, is running for the second time after a disappointing performance in 2018. Once the main opposition party under the late John Fru Ndi, the SDF has lost much of its luster due to internal divisions and the erosion of its traditional support base in Anglophone regions. Osih presents himself as a reformist alternative, promising institutional and social reforms. Still, the weakened state of his party and shrinking grassroots support make his task formidable against the ruling party machine.
In the end, the real contest appears to be between Biya, buoyed by the power of the state apparatus, and opposition figures struggling to carve out space within overwhelming legal, organizational, and political constraints. The absence of Maurice Kamto, who emerged in 2018 as Biya’s most formidable challenger with about 14% of the vote, has handed Biya an additional advantage in a race that seems designed to consolidate his rule. While candidates such as Libii and Muna attempt to articulate an alternative vision, deep opposition divisions and the failure to forge a unified coalition limit their prospects. The central question for observers is whether any of these contenders can break the cycle of continuity, or whether the election will simply mark another milestone in a regime that has endured for more than four decades.
The Constitutional and Legal Framework of the Electoral Process
General Framework:
Cameroon’s presidential elections are based on the 1972 Constitution (amended in 1996 and 2008) and the 2012 Electoral Code. The constitution provides for the president to be elected by direct universal suffrage for a seven-year term. The 2008 amendment removed term limits, allowing indefinite re-election—a change widely criticized for undermining the competitiveness of the political system. The Electoral Code (Articles 116 and following) stipulates a single-round system under a simple majority rule. Oversight of the process, the proclamation of results, and adjudication of disputes fall under the jurisdiction of the Constitutional Council. A presidential decree must summon the electorate at least 90 days before the vote (Article 86), which is reflected in the decision to set October 12, 2025, as the election date. This framework was put into practice with the announcement of Paul Biya’s candidacy and the Constitutional Council’s decision to reject Maurice Kamto’s appeal.
Candidacy Requirements:
The Cameroonian Electoral Code imposes precise criteria for presidential aspirants. Candidates must be Cameroonian by birth, enjoy full civil and political rights, and be at least 35 years old on election day, with a continuous residence of at least 12 months prior to candidacy. They must have a good moral reputation and not be subject to any disqualifying penalties. A financial deposit of 30 million CFA francs is required, refundable under certain conditions. Independent candidates must also secure at least 300 endorsements from locally elected officials across the regions, reflecting the system’s intent to restrict competition to figures with broad national bases and genuine organizational capacity.
The Electoral Body:
Elections Cameroon (ELECAM) is the central authority for managing and organizing elections through its electoral board and general directorate. Although officially described as an independent body, the method of appointing its members and its ties to the executive branch continue to raise questions about its neutrality. Alongside ELECAM, there are supervisory committees at local and national levels, as well as multiple tabulation commissions that oversee the process until results are announced. The Constitutional Council retains final authority to validate results and adjudicate appeals. This dual structure—between the electoral administration and the Constitutional Council—makes transparency in procedures and the publication of minutes at all levels the key safeguards of electoral integrity.
Procedural Sequence:
The process begins with a presidential decree calling voters to the polls at least 90 days before election day, followed by the closing of the electoral register and the announcement of final candidate lists. The official campaign then runs for two weeks, ending on the eve of voting. On election day, voters cast ballots in polling stations with no more than 500 registered voters each, using biometric voter cards and standardized secret envelopes. Once polls close, votes are counted immediately at the polling stations in the presence of candidates’ representatives, and results are compiled into minutes that are progressively transmitted to higher levels for national aggregation. Ultimately, the Constitutional Council declares the official results after reviewing appeals, giving the process a hybrid character that combines local practice with centralized oversight.
Conclusion:
The 2025 elections in Cameroon cannot be measured merely by vote counts or the number of candidates, but by their ability to test the resilience of the system and the capacity of society to redefine its political trajectory. President Paul Biya’s continued candidacy symbolizes the weight of the past and the ruling party’s dominance, while fragmented opposition figures attempt to sketch an incomplete alternative. Security and economic crises constrain the electoral process under unprecedented pressures, while international scrutiny adds further layers of complexity. Whatever the outcome, the elections will determine whether the country remains trapped in the cycle of continuity or dares to open a fragile window toward political transformation. In this sense, the 2025 election represents a pivotal moment between formal stability and the risk of slipping into uncertain scenarios.
