Tshisekedi Opens Door to DRC Third Term, Citing Eastern Conflict

President Félix Tshisekedi's statement that he is open to a third term in 2028—despite constitutional two-term limits—has reignited debate over democratic governance in the DRC and the political uses of the country's ongoing eastern conflict.

By Monexus Staff Writercentral-africa6-minute read7 May 2026☆ Save ↗ Share ⎙ Print

DRC President Félix Tshisekedi hints at third term, 2028 poll delay / Decrypt / Photography

On 7 May 2026, President Félix Tshisekedi told reporters in Kinshasa that he would consider seeking a third presidential term in 2028, invoking the possibility that ongoing conflict in the eastern DRC could delay the scheduled election. The statement, reported by Reuters and carried by regional wire services, marks the first time the president has publicly left the door open to exceeding the constitutional two-term limit. Opposition figures were quick to condemn the remarks, warning that any extension of presidential tenure would undermine a democratic transition that remains fragile, twelve years after Joseph Kabila ceded power following disputed elections.

The nut graf is simple and the implications are large: a president who came to office on the promise of democratic renewal is now testing the boundaries of that promise, using a grinding conflict in the east as both context and potential justification. The DRC's 2006 constitution limits the presidency to two terms. Whether that limit will survive 2028 now depends on calculations taking place inside the presidency, in the hallways of the ruling Union for Democracy and Social Progress (UDPS), and in the strategic choices of an armed rebellion that has given Kinshasa a reason to talk about constitutional flexibility.

The Constitutional Question

The DRC's 2006 constitution, adopted after years of transitional rule following the Second Congo War, caps presidential terms at five years and restricts holders to two consecutive terms. Tshisekedi won re-election in 2023 in a vote the Constitutional Court validated despite irregularities documented by the African Union and European Union observation missions. That victory gave him a second and—under the constitution as written—final mandate. His statement on 7 May did not announce a specific plan to amend or extend; it acknowledged he was "open" to the possibility and linked that possibility explicitly to the security situation in the east.

What the president did not spell out was the legal mechanism. The DRC constitution can be amended through a two-thirds majority in both chambers of parliament, followed by a public referendum or a three-quarters majority in both chambers. The UDPS and its coalition partners do not currently hold those margins. This means that if Tshisekedi intends to stay in office beyond 2028, he needs either a parliamentary supermajority he does not yet possess, a constitutional referendum he has not announced, or an extra-constitutional prolongation framed as a wartime necessity. His statement's careful phrasing—"open to" seeking a third term, extension "only" if certain conditions prevail—preserves deniability while keeping the option on the table.

The Eastern Conflict as Political Instrument

The M23 rebellion, a predominantly Tutsi militia that seized large swaths of North Kivu and Ituri provinces beginning in late 2021, has given the presidency a recurring argument for concentrating power and circumscribing normal political life. Martial law was imposed in the two provinces in 2023, suspending civilian governance and replacing provincial assemblies with military administrations. The conflict has displaced an estimated 1.5 million people, according to UN OCHA data, creating a humanitarian catastrophe that the government in Kinshasa has struggled to address while simultaneously prosecuting a military campaign that has produced mixed results.

Tshisekedi's framing—that conflict could delay the 2028 election—implies that the state of emergency in the east is not merely a security problem but a constitutional one. The logic, if followed to its conclusion, suggests that as long as M23 holds territory, elections in the east cannot be held safely, and if elections cannot be held safely across the whole country, the election itself becomes legally ambiguous. That ambiguity, critics argue, is precisely the point. Opposition leader Martin Fayulu, who contested the 2018 election result and argues he was the true winner, told the press on 7 May that any attempt to extend Tshisekedi's mandate through conflict-based justification would be "an assault on the Congolese people and their sovereignty."

The government has not disclosed what specific contingency it envisions for the east's electoral participation. Local elections in the conflict zones have been postponed repeatedly since 2022 without formal legal framework for those postponements. The result is a de facto electoral exclusion of several million Congolese voters that compounds with each administrative delay.

A Continental Pattern

The DRC is not inventing this playbook. Across sub-Saharan Africa, second-term presidents facing constitutional term limits have found ways to extend their tenures, and the invocation of conflict, nation-building imperatives, or institutional immaturity has been a persistent justification. Uganda's Yoweri Museveni, in power since 1986, oversaw a constitutional amendment removing term limits in 2005 before removing the age cap in 2017 to allow his continued candidacy. Chad's Idriss Déby Itno amended the constitution to extend his term twice before his death in 2021. Congo-Brazzaville's Denis Sassou Nguesso used a 2015 referendum to remove term limits entirely after previously exploiting a constitutional re-set following the 1997 civil war.

The common thread is not ideology or region—it is the manipulation of extraordinary circumstances to override ordinary constitutional constraints. In each case, the incumbent argued that the country was not ready for a transition, that external threats required continuity, or that the constitution's limitations were an obstacle to national reconstruction. Tshisekedi's framing fits this pattern closely: he has not said he will amend the constitution, only that he is open to staying in power if conditions require it. The conditions, conveniently, are ones his government controls and can describe as requiring his personal stewardship.

What distinguishes the DRC from some of these precedents is the depth of the crisis in the east and the scale of international engagement. MONUSCO, the UN peacekeeping mission, has been drawing down its presence in the face of pressure from Kinshasa, which has called for its exit. Western partners, including the United States and European Union, have maintained diplomatic engagement with Tshisekedi's government while periodically expressing concern about democratic backsliding. Whether that concern translates into leverage is unclear. The historical record suggests it rarely does when the alternative is a state viewed as a regional anchor against more destabilising actors.

What Happens Next

The immediate political stakes are concentrated in Kinshasa, where the UDPS coalition must decide whether to begin building toward a constitutional amendment or maintain the fiction that 2028 will bring a competitive succession. Neither path is without cost. An amendment process would be politically expensive, likely to fracture the ruling coalition, and certain to trigger mass street protests modelled on the 2015-2016 demonstrations that shook Kinshasa after Kabila attempted similar constitutional gymnastics. A genuine succession process would require Tshisekedi to cede control of a political apparatus he built, with all the personal and institutional implications that carries.

For the millions displaced by conflict in the east, the electoral question may feel distant. Their immediate concern is survival—access to food, shelter, and physical safety in camps and host communities that have absorbed enormous numbers since 2021. Yet the governance vacuum that M23 exploits is itself a product of political decisions made in Kinshasa, including the centralisation of authority, the militarisation of civilian administration, and now the suggestion that constitutional normalcy may be suspended indefinitely. The rebellion feeds on the perception that the state has abandoned the east; the presidency's framing now implies the east may also be abandoned by the electoral process.

Opposition politicians, civil society groups, and independent media in Kinshasa are watching the next eighteen months carefully. Constitutional court composition, electoral commission appointments, and security sector appointments will all signal whether the government is preparing for a competitive 2028 election or a managed transition under extended emergency authority. The international community has shown limited appetite to press the DRC on democratic benchmarks when the alternative—allowing state collapse in a country of 100 million people with significant mineral wealth and regional strategic weight—is seen as worse. That calculus is well understood in Kinshasa. It is, in all likelihood, the reason the president spoke as openly as he did on 7 May.

Desk note: Monexus leads with Reuters and regional wire reporting of Tshisekedi's statement and the opposition response. Western wire coverage has focused on the constitutional dimension; this article adds the eastern conflict context and the continental pattern of term-limit circumvention that frames Tshisekedi's statement as part of a recognisable strategy rather than an isolated remark.

Wire provenance

This editorial synthesis draws on the following public wire/social posts:

https://t.me/TheStarKenya
https://t.me/wfwitness