The new book by Minister Atanga Nji, ‘Understanding the meaning of my permanent struggle for respect of republican legality,’ can be read as a hymn to conservative governance, a showcase of his contributions to sustaining the regime, and a tribute to President Paul Biya’s wisdom.
However, the discerning reader will note his significant contribution to political science and conflict resolution through the theory of ‘imperfect balance’ developed in the postface.
Since 2016, the crisis in Cameroon’s Northwest and Southwest regions has escalated into armed conflict, with separatist groups demanding the creation of a ‘Republic of Ambazonia’ through secession. The separatist narrative relies on claims of systemic marginalization of English-speaking Cameroonians by the French-speaking majority. Atanga Nji strongly contests this view, arguing that tangible government achievements in the two Anglophone regions, his own position within the state apparatus, and the presence of many other Anglophone leaders in key roles — ministers, directors of strategic public enterprises, and major private sector figures — provide empirical refutation of separatist theses.
Atanga Nji’s central argument rests on demonstration by example. As an Anglophone integrated at the highest level of the state, with a long career in the private sector as a banker and finance expert, he embodies, along with other Anglophones in power and private sector leadership, proof that alleged marginalization is a politically constructed myth.
This argument, which could be called the thesis of successful integration, fits into a broader strategy of symbolic counter-insurgency: the presence of Anglophones in top positions and significant public investments in the two Anglophone regions contradict the claim of systemic discrimination.
The postface takes the distracted reader by surprise with the development of what the author calls the ‘logic of imperfect balance,’ presented as a guiding principle for managing conflicts, disputes, and negotiations. This theory extends the presidential reflection on peace and international security, particularly Paul Biya’s speech at the 72nd session of the UN General Assembly:
‘The quest for peace concerns us all. All countries must work for its advent.’
‘Our most precious asset is peace. Without it, we can undertake nothing lasting or effective for the benefit of our youth, our peoples.’
Atanga Nji elevates this presidential intuition to the level of a theoretical paradigm. He starts from the observation that ‘all wars are useless,’ in line with the general principle of humanity and international bodies like the UN. However, he introduces an essential nuance: the distinction between legitimate self-defense and war for its own sake. According to him, there is a ‘legitimate war’ — the war against terrorism — which justifies the use of force by a legitimate government.
The theory of imperfect balance is based on a critique of the ideal of perfect compromise. Atanga Nji argues that the search for absolute balance, for total distributive justice in negotiations, is not only illusory but counterproductive. He writes:
‘To put an end to all these justified or useless conflicts that disturb the tranquility of Humanity, we must negotiate and especially compromise. To do this, we must accept the policy of the middle ground, which is not necessarily just because there is never a good compromise. Compromise is not necessarily capitulation, because if the belligerents took compromise for capitulation, armed conflicts would never end.’
The author develops his thought in four structuring propositions:
First proposition: the middle ground is not always just
‘The imperfect balance is a balance that is not always just, but which allows resolving any conflict in the sense of equity and with a concern for appeasement. In each negotiation, one must remember that the middle ground is not always just, and the balance sought as a solution to certain conflicts or grievances is not always balanced.’
This proposition forms the heart of the theory. It asserts that procedural fairness (reaching a settlement) takes precedence over substantive justice (the conformity of the settlement to an ideal of justice). The ‘imperfect balance’ is thus a functional rather than a normative equilibrium.
Second proposition: compromise as mutual renunciation
‘The meaning of compromise sometimes involves doing violence to oneself by accepting to lose something very dear in order to regain peace or to resolve a difficult political, economic, or social equation.’
Here the author situates the theory within a political economy of gift and renunciation. Negotiation is not a bargaining where each party gets what it considers fair, but a process where each ‘does violence to itself’ to preserve the collective order. This sacrificial dimension of compromise brings Atanga Nji’s thought closer to theories of hierarchical contractualism rather than egalitarian contractualism à la Rawls.
Third proposition: imperfection as a condition for peace
‘Indeed, the balance contains imperfections and one must take them into account when facing an impasse in negotiations. As soon as one accepts that there is never a good compromise, and that compromise is not necessarily capitulation but common sense, one will always arrive in the logic of the middle ground to put an end to all those conflicts that disturb the tranquility of Humanity.’
This proposition performs a classic epistemological inversion: far from being a failure, the imperfection of balance makes it possible. Expecting a perfect compromise is a source of blockage; accepting imperfection is a source of resolution.
Fourth proposition: universality of the logic
‘In negotiations, one should not take too much and should not give everything. We must henceforth integrate the logic of imperfect balance into international negotiations at all levels of discussion, whatever the subject, so that the world becomes more peaceful, less selfish, and less dangerous. […] The logic of imperfect balance can now be perceived as a guide for Humanity. It is valid at all levels of life.’
Atanga Nji thus elevates his theory to the rank of a universal principle of governance, applicable to international relations as well as ordinary social interactions.
The relevance of this theory for understanding the Anglophone crisis becomes apparent when explicitly linking the two registers of the author’s thought. According to Atanga Nji, the thesis of Anglophone marginalization stems from an unrealistic expectation of perfect balance: numerical equality (the two Anglophone regions represent neither a quarter of Cameroon’s population nor a significant area justifying parity demands), strict parity (it is illusory to demand strict parity based solely on the colonizer’s language), and institutional symmetry between linguistic communities (it would be dangerous for national cohesion to reason in terms of spoken language when neither official language belongs to Cameroon). Such a balance is not only impossible in a composite society like Cameroon’s, which has four cultural areas, but also undesirable because it would freeze identities and paralyze political decision-making, compromising the national unity policy pursued by successive governments.
The ‘imperfect balance’ allows thinking about an asymmetric but peaceful coexistence: Anglophones do not have strict proportional representation, but they undeniably occupy key positions; they do not benefit from pure federalism, but they participate in the direction of the state. This equity in inequality — to borrow a classic formula — constitutes, according to the author, the only realistic horizon for Cameroon.
The heuristic strength of this theory provides a nuanced account of real political negotiation processes, where actors accept suboptimal solutions to preserve social order. It aligns with the work of rational choice theorists on imperfect Nash equilibria and with Jon Elster’s analyses of the rationality of renunciation. It also offers a framework for understanding the relative stability of the Cameroonian regime despite structural tensions: President Paul Biya’s managerial expertise lies precisely in his ability to manage imperfect balances, to satisfy partially without ever totally excluding.
The theory of ‘imperfect balance’ represents the most original contribution of Paul Atanga Nji’s book. By asserting that ‘the middle ground is not always just,’ that ‘the balance sought […] is not always balanced,’ and that peace requires ‘accepting to lose something very dear,’ the author proposes a framework for thinking about political negotiation that shifts the emphasis from substantive justice to procedural viability.
Paul Atanga Nji’s book constitutes a political document of exceptional richness for the researcher in African political science. It offers a window into the discourse of Cameroonian power in the era of national renewal, the mechanisms of legitimizing a regime in permanent tension with its margins, and the way integrated Anglophone elites negotiate their dual community and state belonging.
