By: Julius Konton
Former Speaker of the Liberian House of Representatives Dr. Bhofal Chambers has issued a sharp warning over what he describes as the growing politicization of Liberia’s security institutions, accusing the administration of President Joseph Nyuma Boakai of presiding over what he calls a “political-era police force.”
Chambers, a former lawmaker from Maryland County who served as Speaker from 2018 to 2024, compared what he perceives as the current security environment to the notorious Tonton Macoute of Haiti, using the historical reference to underscore his concerns about the potential abuse of state security institutions for political purposes.
“The people need leadership to a police force based on non-partisan objectivity,” Chambers warned.
In his remarks, Chambers referred to what he called a group of people operating as “Tuntun-macut,” drawing a comparison with Haiti’s Tonton Macoute the feared paramilitary security apparatus associated with the authoritarian rule of François “Papa Doc” Duvalier and later Jean-Claude “Baby Doc” Duvalier.
The analogy is politically explosive because the Tonton Macoute became internationally associated with political intimidation, repression and the use of security structures to protect an authoritarian government.
Chambers did not present evidence establishing that Liberia’s police constitute an equivalent organization.
Rather, his comparison appears intended as a political warning about the dangers of allowing law enforcement to become identified with the interests of a ruling administration rather than the state and its citizens.
That distinction is critical in a country whose modern history has been deeply shaped by the politicization and militarization of security institutions.
Chambers specifically invoked the November 2011 confrontation between Liberian security forces and supporters of the opposition Congress for Democratic Change (CDC), an episode that remains one of the most controversial moments in Liberia’s post-war democratic history.
On November 7, 2011, one day before the presidential runoff between incumbent Ellen Johnson Sirleaf and opposition challenger Winston Tubman, violence erupted during an opposition protest in Monrovia. Reuters reported that riot police used tear gas and that at least one person was killed.
Other reporting and subsequent accounts put the death toll at two, while several people were injured.
The confrontation occurred amid an opposition boycott of the runoff and allegations of electoral irregularities.
The incident became so politically consequential that President Sirleaf subsequently announced an independent investigation, while then-LNP Inspector General Marc Amblard was removed from office after accepting responsibility for the police response.
For Chambers, the lesson from 2011 is straightforward: security forces must never become instruments in political competition.
The controversy also touches a much broader institutional question.
Following Liberia’s devastating civil wars, the country’s police force underwent major restructuring with assistance from the United Nations Mission in Liberia (UNMIL).
The post-war reform process sought to create a professional, civilian-oriented police institution after years in which security forces had been accused of corruption, abuses and political repression.
UNMIL was established in 2003 and played a central role in rebuilding Liberia’s security architecture. At its peak, the mission deployed approximately 15,000 peacekeeping troops, alongside more than 1,000 police personnel, before completing its mandate in 2018.
Yet reform has not eliminated public concerns about police accountability, professionalism and political independence. Human Rights Watch previously documented longstanding problems involving police capacity, public confidence and abuses dating back decades.
More recent academic research has similarly argued that Liberia’s police reforms improved institutional capacity but that questions surrounding independence and civilian oversight have remained important challenges.
Chambers’ intervention therefore raises a question extending beyond one political party or administration: Can Liberia’s security institutions maintain public confidence when political tensions rise?
For the Boakai administration, allegations that the police are becoming politically aligned represent a serious challenge because the legitimacy of a democratic police force depends not merely on its ability to enforce the law, but on whether citizens believe that the law is applied equally, professionally and without political favoritism.
At the same time, allegations of a “political police force” require evidence and institutional scrutiny rather than political rhetoric alone.
The government and police authorities would be expected to demonstrate through recruitment, promotions, deployments, crowd-control practices, investigations and disciplinary procedures that political affiliation does not determine policing decisions.
Chambers’ central argument is ultimately less about Haiti than Liberia’s own history.
The country’s civil wars claimed an estimated 250,000 lives between 1989 and 2003, leaving behind a deeply damaged security system and a population particularly sensitive to signs of state repression.
The November 2011 violence demonstrated how quickly political confrontation can turn into a security crisis when public confidence in law enforcement collapses.
Chambers says he does not want Liberia to witness a repeat of that history.
His warning places the Boakai administration before a politically delicate test: whether Liberia’s police can remain visibly loyal to the Constitution and the Liberian people not to the government of the day.
For a country still consolidating its post-war democratic gains, that distinction could prove more important than the politics of any single administration.
