As Ghana underwent profound political and economic upheaval in the early 1980s, neighbouring Togo emerged as a sanctuary for exiles, dissidents, and political actors seeking to influence the trajectory of the Ghanaian state. Yet beneath the surface of these struggles lay a deeper contest: the battle between competing class interests over the control of state power and the direction of Ghana’s postcolonial development.
Ghana and Togo share more than a common border. Their peoples are connected by historical, cultural, linguistic, and kinship ties that long predate colonial rule. However, the colonial partition of West Africa fractured these organic social formations and imposed artificial state boundaries designed not to serve local populations but the interests of European imperial powers.
The 1956 United Nations-supervised plebiscite that integrated British Togoland into the Gold Coast exemplified this colonial legacy. Communities, particularly among the Ewe people, found themselves divided between two newly emerging states. What had once been a shared social and economic space became fragmented by borders that reflected colonial administrative convenience rather than the aspirations of the people themselves. The resulting tensions were characteristic of the contradictions inherited by many postcolonial African states.
By the early 1980s, these contradictions had acquired a new dimension. Ghana’s economic crisis, combined with recurrent military interventions and political instability, reflected the broader crisis of the postcolonial state. Successive regimes had failed to transform the inherited colonial economy, which remained dependent on the export of primary commodities and vulnerable to external pressures. Political struggles increasingly revolved around competing attempts to control a state apparatus that had become the principal instrument for managing scarce resources and distributing economic opportunities.
It was into this environment that I arrived in Lomé in January 1983.
The city had become the principal centre of Ghanaian political exile. Former soldiers, politicians, businessmen, intellectuals, and activists congregated there, united by their opposition to the Provisional National Defence Council (PNDC). Yet beneath this apparent unity existed profound ideological and class divisions.
Many of the exiles represented factions of the political and economic elite displaced by the revolutionary upheavals associated with the PNDC. Others were motivated by genuine concerns about authoritarianism and political repression. Still others sought to advance alternative visions of Ghana’s future. What united them was opposition to the existing regime; what divided them were their differing class interests and competing conceptions of political power.
The exile community was therefore characterized by fragmentation and rivalry. Various groups competed to establish themselves as the legitimate alternative to the PNDC, each seeking influence over networks of soldiers, financiers, and political supporters. Alliances emerged and collapsed with remarkable speed as organizations pursued divergent strategic objectives.
From a progressive perspective, these divisions were not merely the product of individual ambitions or personality conflicts. Rather, they reflected the absence of a coherent class project capable of uniting disparate social forces around a common programme of transformation. Political actors frequently sought state power without resolving the fundamental question of whose interests that power would ultimately serve.
The same pool of disaffected soldiers was courted by multiple factions. Plans for regime change proliferated, often overlapping and occasionally sabotaging one another. In many cases, struggles within the exile movement mirrored broader contests among sections of the national bourgeoisie and other social groups seeking influence over the postcolonial state.
Lomé’s location made it an ideal base for such activities. Its proximity to Ghana, the relative ease of cross-border movement, and the constant flow of traders and migrants provided opportunities for clandestine political organization. At the same time, the Togolese state maintained a cautious distance from these activities. While generally tolerating the presence of Ghanaian exiles, it remained reluctant to become directly involved in the internal contradictions of its neighbour.
Exile, however, was more than a political phenomenon. It was also a deeply human experience shaped by material insecurity, displacement, and uncertainty. Removed from familiar social environments, many exiles confronted difficult questions about political commitment, personal sacrifice, and the realities of struggle. The distance between revolutionary rhetoric and political practice often became starkly visible.
For me, Lomé became an education in the complexities of power and social transformation. It revealed both the strengths and weaknesses of opposition politics. I witnessed remarkable courage and dedication among individuals committed to political change. Yet I also observed how factionalism, competing class interests, and the pursuit of power could undermine movements that appeared united from afar.
I arrived believing that the defeat of the PNDC was both morally necessary and historically inevitable. I departed with a deeper appreciation of the structural forces shaping Ghanaian politics and a greater understanding that political change involves more than the replacement of one ruling group by another. The central question remained whether any struggle for power could transcend elite competition and address the underlying social and economic contradictions inherited from colonialism and reproduced within the postcolonial state.
Shaibu A. Gariba
https://www.linkedin.com/in/shaibu-gariba/
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By Shaibu A. Gariba
