If the people want me to have a third term, I will accept
At a press conference in Kinshasa, President Félix Tshisekedi of the Democratic Republic of Congo opened the question of his political future beyond 2028, suggesting that a third term — constitutionally forbidden — might be pursued through popular referendum, while also raising the possibility that ongoing conflict in the east could delay elections altogether. It is a moment familiar to the long arc of African governance: a leader standing at the threshold of constitutional limits, holding in each hand a crisis and a key. The people of Congo now watch to see whether these two pressures — war and law — are being solved together, or wielded together.
- A president who once stayed silent on his future has now spoken, and the words carry the weight of a constitutional order beginning to bend.
- A bill already sits in parliament outlining referendum procedures — the machinery of extension is not hypothetical, it is being assembled in real time.
- The M23 rebellion, backed by Rwanda according to Tshisekedi, has swallowed Goma and Bukavu and now threatens to swallow the 2028 election date as well.
- A US-brokered peace deal signed in December has not held, and Washington's subsequent sanctions on Rwandan commanders have done little to quiet the guns.
- Opposition voices are calling it a 'constitutional coup' — a legal path designed to do what force cannot, circumventing term limits written precisely to prevent indefinite rule.
- The next two years will turn on whether the eastern war and the constitutional question are two separate problems — or one strategy wearing two faces.
On Wednesday in Kinshasa, with the River Congo visible behind him, President Félix Tshisekedi addressed more than two hundred journalists and supporters and said what he had long avoided saying: that if the Congolese people wished him to serve a third term, he would accept. The constitution permits only two. Any extension, he insisted, would require a referendum — but the infrastructure for such a vote is already taking shape. A bill outlining referendum procedures on constitutional amendments was submitted to parliament in March, and what supporters call democratic renewal, critics call a blueprint for consolidating power.
Tshisekedi also raised a second reason the 2028 election might not happen on schedule. The eastern provinces of North and South Kivu remain under the grip of M23 rebels, widely believed to be backed by Rwanda, who control major cities including Goma and Bukavu. Without those regions, the president argued, no credible election is possible. He spoke for more than three hours, blaming Kigali for obstructing peace and profiting from Congo's mineral wealth. A US-brokered agreement signed in December has not held, and American sanctions on Rwandan commanders in March have not stopped the fighting.
What has emerged is a president positioned at the crossing of two crises: a military conflict that justifies postponing elections, and a constitutional mechanism that could extend his tenure. Opposition and civil society groups have already named what they see — a 'constitutional coup,' a legal maneuver to circumvent the very limits written to prevent indefinite rule. Whether these two pressures are being addressed in parallel or wielded as a single instrument is the question that will define Congolese politics for years to come.
Félix Tshisekedi sat before more than two hundred journalists and supporters in Kinshasa on Wednesday, the River Congo visible through the windows behind him, and opened a door he had kept carefully closed. When asked about his future beyond 2028, when his second term as president of the Democratic Republic of Congo expires, he did not deflect. "I have not asked for a third term," he said, "but I'm telling you—if the people want me to have a third term, I will accept."
The statement landed with weight because it arrived wrapped in a constitutional caveat. The law permits a maximum of two terms. Any extension, Tshisekedi insisted, would require the people's approval through referendum. Yet the very possibility of such a vote—and the machinery to conduct it—is already being assembled. In March, a bill landed in parliament outlining how a referendum on constitutional amendments might be organized. Supporters frame it as democratic renewal. Critics see it as a blueprint for power consolidation.
But Tshisekedi offered another reason why the 2028 election date itself might slip. The eastern provinces of North and South Kivu remain fractured by conflict. M23 rebels, widely believed to receive backing from Rwanda, control major cities including Goma and Bukavu. Without those regions, Tshisekedi argued, a credible election cannot happen. "If we cannot end this war, unfortunately, we will not be able to hold the elections in 2028," he said at the press conference, his second since his 2023 re-election. The timing of any vote, he suggested, would hinge on how quickly the fighting ends.
The conflict has persisted for years despite diplomatic efforts. In December, the United States brokered a peace agreement signed in Washington. It has not held. In March, Washington sanctioned several Rwandan army commanders, accusing them of fueling the violence. Yet the shooting continues. Tshisekedi, speaking for more than three hours, blamed Rwanda for obstruction. He accused Kigali of profiting from DR Congo's mineral wealth and deliberately slowing implementation of the peace accord. "It's going to take time, because Rwanda has long profited by looting resources, and that's why the negotiations are dragging on," he said, describing the situation as "a real mess."
He framed his priority as restoring peace before leaving office—a framing that conveniently extends the timeline for his departure. The opposition and civil society groups have already sounded alarms. They see in Tshisekedi's moves the architecture of what they call a "constitutional coup"—a legal maneuver to circumvent term limits that were written into the constitution precisely to prevent indefinite rule. Any amendment to the constitution requires either a presidential referendum or a three-fifths majority in parliament. The bill submitted in March suggests which path Tshisekedi may prefer.
What emerges is a president who has positioned himself at the intersection of two crises: one military, one constitutional. The eastern war provides justification for postponing elections. The referendum machinery provides a path to extending his tenure. Whether these are separate problems requiring separate solutions, or whether they are being deliberately intertwined, remains the question that will define DR Congo's politics over the next two years.
Notable Quotes
If we cannot end this war, unfortunately, we will not be able to hold the elections in 2028— President Félix Tshisekedi
Rwanda has long profited by looting resources, and that's why the negotiations are dragging on— President Félix Tshisekedi
The Hearth Conversation Another angle on the story
When he says the people would have to approve a third term through referendum, does he genuinely believe that would happen?
The referendum itself is the mechanism he's building. If parliament passes the bill from March, or if he calls a referendum directly, he controls the framing. The question becomes not whether he should stay, but how the vote is conducted and what it actually asks.
And the eastern conflict—is that a real obstacle to elections, or a convenient one?
Both, probably. The fighting is real. Goma and Bukavu are genuinely out of government control. But the conflict has existed for years. The question is why now, suddenly, it becomes a reason to postpone 2028 specifically.
What does the opposition actually have the power to do?
They can refuse to cooperate, they can protest, they can warn of constitutional violation. But if parliament approves the referendum bill with a three-fifths majority, or if Tshisekedi calls a referendum unilaterally, the opposition's leverage is limited. They can make noise, but the machinery moves forward.
Has he actually said he wants a third term, or is he leaving it open?
He's been precise about that. He says he hasn't asked for one, but would accept it if the people wanted it. That's not the same as asking. It's positioning himself as reluctant, responsive to popular will. It's a different kind of power move.
What happens if the war doesn't end by 2028?
Then the elections don't happen. And if elections don't happen, the question of whether he stays becomes moot—he simply remains in office. The conflict becomes the justification for continuity.