To understand Paul Biya’s seemingly interminable tenure, one must first understand Cameroon, its neighbors, and Biya himself. Despite over four decades in office, he remains an enigmatic figure to many Cameroonians, including his own ministers—an observer who is rarely observed. His speeches are highly scripted, his protocols rigid, and he rarely grants interviews; the last interview he had with a local journalist was in 2002. He addresses the nation only thrice a year, leaving Cameroonians to catch brief glimpses of their leader during National Day celebrations or as he departs for one of his frequent trips abroad—a habit that has earned him the rightful nickname of “absentee landlord.” As Fareed Zakaria observed about the late Queen Elizabeth II, Paul Biya is simply boring—however, unlike the queen, who “remained boring for the sake of Britain,” Biya’s perceived dullness serves only his own interests.

The Central African subregion, which includes Cameroon, has a long history of creating a cozy environment for sit-tight leaders. Take Equatorial Guinea’s Teodoro Obiang, who has been in power since 1979 and is the longest serving head of state in the world today. While Denis Sassou Nguesso of Congo-Brazzaville had his first stint as president from 1979 to 1992, returned to power in 1997, and has remained the Congolese head of state ever since. Chad and Gabon were in the same situation until fairly recent changes of leadership: Idriss Déby remained in power for 30 years, while Omar Bongo and his son, Ali Bongo, remained the Gabonese heads of state for 41 and 14 years, respectively.

Biya has been described as the Lion Man, Jesus Christ, the Sphinx, father of the nation, an enigma, the Maradona of Cameroon’s politics—yet none of these descriptions seem to fully capture who he truly is. Unlike other long-serving African leaders, like Paul Kagame or Yoweri Museveni, who engage with the public and occasionally share lighthearted moments, Biya maintains an aloof, elitist persona. His prolonged rule is facilitated by Cameroon’s inherent complexities—the nation’s diverse ethnic and linguistic makeup, encompassing over 250 groups, hinders unified opposition. Political allies exploit these divisions, fueling tribal sentiments, while religious and colonial legacies contribute to this fragmentation. The predominantly Muslim north is often at odds with the Christian south, while lingering differences between the Anglophone and Francophone regions—stemming from colonial divisions—further complicate a unified stand against the long-serving leader.

It is near impossible to overstate the scope of authority held by Cameroon’s current president. Cameroonian writer George Ngwane—a victim of Biya and his entourage’s unchecked powers himself for daring to criticize the establishment—referred to the leader as “Father Christmas.” “With the nod of his head, the stroke of his pen and the state of his mind,” Ngwane writes, “He can, at best, miraculously turn five loaves of bread and two fishes into a mammoth feast—or at worst vindictively abandon any regional potential oasis into a desert.” While the compelling description falls short of capturing the full range of Biya’s powers, the captivating prose compellingly approximates the near-biblical authority he wields in the country’s political landscape.

Biya’s ascent to the presidency was a stark departure from the expectations of his family, who raised him in a small village in southern Cameroon’s Congo Basin rainforest. Initially destined for priesthood, he instead pursued law and political science at the University of Paris, swiftly climbing through Cameroon’s bureaucratic hierarchy upon his return. Rather than shepherding a congregation, the Lion Man has become a dominant political figure, securing repeated, often contested, electoral victories for 42 years with relative ease. While you might wonder how the 92-year-old leader has accomplished this feat, the answer lies in the events that have shaped him, with keen observations from his past enabling him to outmaneuver or neutralize challengers.

When a young Biya served in Ahmadou Ahidjo’s government, he was perceived as a humble, meticulous, level-headed, and seemingly unambitious young man—qualities that set him apart from others who openly coveted their master’s throne. These traits charmed Ahidjo—Cameroon’s first president since the country gained independence in 1960—earning Biya his full trust. However, as Brutus famously remarked in Shakespeare’s Julius Caesar, “lowliness is young ambition’s ladder.” Beneath Biya’s humility and silence lay his true nature, which only Ahidjo’s wife, Germaine, seemed to recognize, suspicious of his quiet demeanor.

Time eventually proved Germaine right. Ahidjo, who had ruled since Cameroon’s independence in 1960, was by every account a dictator—a benevolent one, credited with Cameroon’s economic growth and low corruption. Biya, his loyal prime minister for seven years, became president in 1982 after Ahidjo’s unexpected resignation. It is alleged that the president was tricked by a French medical doctor to resign on health grounds.

Biya’s tenure initially inspired hope, but his rule quickly devolved into a disappointing reign marked by high corruption. After relinquishing his position as head of state, Ahidjo remained chair of the then ruling Cameroon National Union party, attempting to exert influence from behind the scenes. Biya resisted this interference, leading to two coup attempts in 1983 and 1984 by Ahidjo loyalists to retake the throne, both of which Biya swiftly suppressed. “The victory is complete,” Biya declared after the failed 1984 coup. Ahidjo had fled the country in 1983, sentenced to death in absentia by a military tribunal (the sentence was later reduced to life imprisonment). The former head of state died of a heart attack a few years after. To this day, his body remains interred in Senegal after his death in 1989, with his wife by his side; his remains are not welcome in Biya’s Cameroon. Alas, Ahidjo was repaid in kind by his own student in a brutal manner of poetic justice, as during his own reign of terror in Cameroon before excommunication, political opponents also faced brutal repression, with many executed and others forced into exile.

Biya famously rewards loyalty; some of his closest allies are those who helped him avert the two coup attempts. As one journalist aptly explains, Biya’s regime is a “gerontological oligarchy: government of the elderly exclusively for the elderly.” Over the years, he consolidated power by strategically filling government and military positions with his own ethnic group, effectively suppressing potential dissent. As Chairman of the Higher Judiciary Council, Grand Master of the National Orders, and Commander-in-Chief of the Armed Forces, ministers are required to put his name first to get anything done. The phrase “high instructions from the president of the Republic” is prominently featured on almost every official document; woe betide those who dare to defy them.

Following the attempted coups of 1983 and 1984, the challenges for Biya were far from over; as years have progressed, so have moments when the nation has united against him. The so-called third wave of democratization in Africa came knocking in the ’90s, and after initially resisting the momentum, Biya reluctantly expressed his desire to be remembered as the man who brought democracy to Cameroon, resulting in the country’s first multiparty elections in 1992. Biya emerged as the winner with barely 40 percent of the votes; his main challenger, John Fru Ndi (who founded the Social Democratic Front party in 1990 under immense challenges by the Biya administration, resulting in six people being killed by law enforcement at the launch) was widely believed to have won, and the Supreme Court judge who declared the election results admitted that his hands “were tied.” Street riots ensued after the elections, but were eventually quashed: The main protagonist, Fru Ndi, was placed under house arrest, while other leaders of the SDF party and supporters were arrested and detained.

Since 1992, Biya has put in place mechanisms to completely divide opposing political parties; there are now about 300 political parties in Cameroon, with some believed to be secretly funded by his government. Biya appoints and dismisses members of the body that manages Cameroonian elections in Cameroon at will, some of whom are former members of his ruling party. He continues to test the limits of his sovereign mandate: In April 2008, his party scrapped presidential term limits after violently suppressing riots over rising prices in February of the same year. No one dared challenge him, and he went ahead to win the 2011 and 2018 presidential elections with over 70 percent of the vote.

One of the most important cogs in Biya’s wheel is his wife, Chantal Biya. Always dressed to the nines, Chantal offsets Biya’s aloof demeanor with her cheerful public engagements. Her humanitarian activities through her eponymous foundation have not only helped to give her a good public image but also helped shore up the reputation of her husband. Similarly, Biya has also used football as a means of securing and maintaining his political authority. The Cameroonian national team’s historic performance in the 1990 World Cup, where they became the first African team to reach the quarterfinals, lent Biya massive political leverage. Often referred to as the “number one supporter” of the national football team, Biya frequently draws comparisons between Cameroonians and the Indomitable Lions (as the team is affectionately called) in his speeches. For Cameroonians, football is akin to India’s cricket—a match on the pitch is one of the premier moments when the spirit of the nation seems unified.

While the Lion Man’s political strategy has worked remarkably well for him and his inner circle, it has done little to foster development or transform the lives of ordinary Cameroonians. Embezzlement of public funds and corruption have become the hallmark of Cameroon, with the country being ranked as the most corrupt nation in the world consecutively in 1998 and 1999 by Transparency International. As much as 23 percent of Cameroon’s citizens still live below the international poverty line despite the country’s status as a leading exporter of timber, cocoa, crude oil, and rare earth elements. Despite these riches, Biya and his ministers frequently turn to Bretton Woods Institutions, cap in hand, to borrow funds in an ostensible effort to salvage Cameroon’s struggling economy; much of the money obtained from these institutions is often assumed to end up in the private bank accounts of top government officials. Take the 1994 World Cup: Cameroonians contributed up to F.CFA 1 billion (USD 1,654,445) for the national team’s World Cup dreams in the USA. The government, pleading financial strain, claimed they couldn’t foot the bill—the minister tasked with delivering the funds, however, claimed in a TV interview that “the money went missing in the air somewhere between Paris and New York,” never to be seen again.

Nothing happened to the minister—and in the decade since the fiasco, Biya created the National Anti-Corruption Commission (CONAC). In 2023 alone, however, this body reported that Cameroon lost about F.CFA 114 billion (USD 188,606,761) in corruption. According to observers, the commission exists less to fight corruption as it does to go after Biya’s political opponents. Alain Mebe Ngo’o, Cameroon’s former influential defense minister, was recently sentenced to 30 years in prison for embezzling F.CFA 23.8 billion (approximately USD 40 million). A former prime minister, interior minister, and several other high-ranking government officials are also serving lengthy prison sentences for corruption and embezzlement of public funds. Some of those imprisoned claim their jailing is politically motivated, underscoring a political climate where Biya has no permanent friends. But embezzlement of public funds and corruption still thrive in Cameroon, with French journalist Fanny Pigeaud putting the blame on Biya in her book: “Because Paul Biya is also corrupt, he cannot put an end to corruption.”

For every cloud, Biya always focuses on the silver lining. When Boko Haram began attacking Cameroon’s northern border with Nigeria in 2014, Biya sensed an opportunity to further cement his powers over the country, passing an anti-terrorism law; in practice, the law is focused more on cracking down on dissent and muzzling the media than on effectively combating terrorism itself. Similarly, hours after the coup ousted Gabon’s Ali Bongo, Biya made changes to the military hierarchy, including forced retirements and sudden promotions of military officers, seemingly to prevent any future power grabs.

In 2001, the Rapid Intervention Battalion (BIR), an elite and heavily armed unit of Cameroon’s military, was established under his leadership to combat armed groups and gangs operating on the nation’s borders. Although initially credited with disrupting these groups, the BIR has become increasingly controversial due to widespread allegations of human rights abuses. After the 2008 violent riots in Cameroon, Biya used the opportunity to introduce the BIR in Cameroon’s cities. Critics contend that this elite force now acts as a personal militia for Biya, drawing parallels to late François “Papa Doc” Duvalier’s notorious Tonton Macoute. A particularly striking incident in 2018, where the BIR executed two women and their infants in northern Cameroon, brought international condemnation.

Despite this, Biya’s diplomatic dealings with world powers have also helped preserve his reign. He has managed to avoid aligning himself with any one side in their geopolitical power struggles, maintaining friendly relations with Russia, the US, China, Britain, and France alike; in return, they have turned a blind eye to his transgressions, despite several of these countries claiming to have a moral authority to enforce a rules-based international order. When tensions flared with Nigeria over the oil-rich Bakassi Peninsula, Biya strategically chose the path of international law. This decision resulted in a favorable ruling from the International Court of Justice, with Nigeria eventually ceding the disputed territory.

As the years progress, so does speculation over his mortality. Discussions about Biya’s health are strictly prohibited, as the topic is considered off-limits for public discourse. In 2004, Biya was rumored to be dead; when he reappeared in public, he declared that “those who wish him dead should wait for the next twenty years.” True to his word, he went missing from the public eye for about six weeks again in 2024, fueling speculation about his death. Upon his return in October, a mammoth crowd—likened by one of his supporters to the welcome Jesus Christ received—greeted him at the airport. These recent events, however staged, have sparked discussions like never before about the future of Cameroon after the 92-year-old leader. While he has proven that he is above everyone in Cameroon politically, his age looks like the spoiler of the fun game he’s been playing for the past 42 years. The big question remains: Who will succeed him?

The outlook for Cameroon after Biya appears bleak: The Muslim north, which sees Cameroon’s presidency as their birthright, having produced the country’s first president, believes it is their turn to lead again, while Biya’s ethnic allies are determined to maintain power at all costs. The economically powerful yet marginalized Bamiléké ethnic group also seeks to rule Cameroon after Biya. His constitutional successor, the president of the Senate, is 91 years old. Another movement has emerged advocating for Frank Biya, the eldest son of Paul Biya, to become the president of Cameroon after him. Such is the state of democracy in the Central African subregion: father-to-son succession has occurred in Gabon and Chad, and Cameroon may follow this playbook

Additionally, the minority Anglophone Cameroonians, who have been engaged in a secessionist struggle since 2017, feel it is their time to govern. For almost nine years, the English-speaking regions of Cameroon have been embroiled in an armed conflict, with Anglophone rebels striving to establish a state they call Ambazonia, separate from the current Cameroonian polity. This armed struggle has shaken the foundations of Cameroon in unprecedented ways. In one of the few times Biya spoke off script, he addressed this crisis during the Paris Peace Summit in 2019. It was a gaffe: After outlining the history of Cameroon, he made a candid admission that hinted at the underlying causes of the conflict. “We tried assimilating their system into the majority Francophone system,” he confessed, “but because of identity differences, it failed.”

Not only is Biya a political juggernaut, he is the state; his power flows top-down, akin to Vladimir Putin’s power vertical. Some of the people who once championed the “Biya must go” movement have long gone—to the world beyond or to prison cells—while Biya shines bright like the northern star. Whenever he appears publicly, the political capital of Cameroon, Yaoundé, empties into silence, with no vehicles on the streets—and despite his advanced years, there have been frantic calls from supporters of Biya’s party, the Cameroon People’s Democratic Movement (CPDM), for him to stand as their candidate in the 2025 presidential elections, referring to him as their “natural candidate.”

In a recent speech, Biya hinted at another presidential run as a nonagenarian: “I have heard your calls and encouragements,” he said, “and I remain dedicated to serving our beloved nation.” In a leaked diplomatic cable from 2009, however, influential elites from the Muslim north declared that Cameroon’s three northern regions “will support Biya for as long as he wants to be president … but would not accept a successor who is either another Beti/Bulu [Biya’s ethnicity] or a member of the economically powerful Bamiléké ethnic group.” The infighting that remains within the ruling party and its fragile institutions ominously complicate the political landscape of the country’s tenuous and fractured future.

Should Biya choose to accept his party’s requests, his victory may be a foregone conclusion. But while the crisis may not arrive until his deathbed, we have finally found the limits of the Lion Man’s all-encompassing rule—and the depth and scope of these divisions spell doom for Cameroon.