Mr. President, What Were You Thinking?

Power, it is often said, reveals a person’s true character. And for President Joseph Nyuma Boakai, the revelation is becoming painfully clear.

Just a few years ago, Mr. Boakai—then a fixture of Liberia’s political opposition—was no stranger to provocative rhetoric. He freely criticized his predecessor, lent his voice to mass protests, and championed the constitutional right of Liberians to dissent. But today, more than a year into his presidency, the Executive Protection Service (EPS), acting under his leadership, has issued an alarming and authoritarian statement: any VIP who “advocates for insurrection, rebellion, or violent protest” against the government will lose their state-assigned security.

This is about silencing political rivals through intimidation. The April 30 press release by the EPS, signed by Director Trokon Gaye, is chilling in both tone and implication. One cannot help but ask: Mr. President, what were you thinking?

It is worth reminding President Boakai that during his time in opposition, his own remarks—often sharply critical of the Weah administration—were protected by the very democratic principles now under threat. At no time did President George Weah, for all his shortcomings, revoke Boakai’s EPS protection. Security for ex-elected officials is not a political favor; it is a matter of law and institutional respect.

So why now, Mr. President, are those same protections being turned into political weapons?

The hypocrisy is staggering. In 2019, then-Candidate Boakai lent his voice to the June 7 protest, a massive public mobilization demanding either reform or resignation from President Weah. The protest was bold. It was loud. It was disruptive. It was also a legitimate exercise of democratic rights—something Boakai himself once fervently defended.

And yet today, this same man now presides over a security apparatus that warns former officials to either keep quiet or risk losing protection. It’s as if protest, once a noble cause under opposition, has now become treason under power.

What a wow!

Let us call this what it is: a dangerous precedent. The EPS directive is not policy—it is a threat cloaked in bureaucracy. It seeks to gag political opponents through fear, not dialogue. It tells former officials that constitutional rights are conditional, not guaranteed. And it tells the Liberian people that power has replaced principle at the highest level of government.

But Mr. President, Liberia’s democracy—though fragile—is not built on fear. It is built on the courage of ordinary citizens and former officials alike to speak truth to power. To criticize. To protest. To demand better. No executive directive, no matter how cleverly worded, can take that away.

What happens when you are no longer in office, Mr. President? Will you be comfortable living under the same conditions you are now endorsing? Will you accept being muzzled because a future administration finds your voice “too provocative”? Will you feel safe when your own security detail is revoked because of your opinions?

Even if the EPS meant well, intentions do not outweigh consequences. This statement is more than ill-advised—it is unconstitutional, unethical, and undemocratic. And it must be retracted.

Mr. President, rein in the EPS. Take back this authoritarian decree. And most importantly, remember the man you were before power changed your perspective—the man who stood for freedom, accountability, and the rights of every Liberian to speak freely, without fear of retribution.

Because in a democracy, silence should never be the price of protection.