A contested legacy in Burkina Faso
In Burkina Faso, the memory of Thomas Sankara has evolved far beyond a simple historical inheritance. It now occupies a central place in the political narrative of Ibrahim Traoré’s administration. Behind official tributes, military ceremonies and the construction of a mausoleum, a fundamental question arises: is the current government gradually appropriating Sankara’s figure in order to build its own political legitimacy?
The alignment is not merely suggested by observers. It is also evident in the regime’s official communications.
In 2026, the Burkinabè government began organising a monthly military ceremony dedicated to Thomas Sankara, an initiative presented as having been instituted on Ibrahim Traoré’s instructions. Official discourse goes even further: during a tribute in February 2026, the president’s chief of staff declared that Thomas Sankara’s “torch” is now carried by Ibrahim Traoré.
This staging of historical continuity raises a deeper question: does Ibrahim Traoré simply wish to honour Sankara, or is he seeking to present himself as the one who has taken up and continued his struggle?
The distinction matters.
Thomas Sankara belongs to Burkina Faso’s history and to the memory of millions of Africans. But there also exists a family memory, carried in particular by his widow Mariam Sankara, his children, his brothers and his sisters. On this issue, the relationship between the family and the transitional government has never been as consensual as the official narrative might suggest.
A first rupture in 2023
The most revealing precedent dates back to February 2023.
After the exhumation of the bodies of Thomas Sankara and his twelve companions, the government decided to proceed with their reinterment at the site of the former Conseil de l’Entente, now the Thomas Sankara Memorial. The choice was highly symbolic: it was precisely at this location that Sankara and his companions were assassinated on 15 October 1987.
The Sankara family opposed the decision.
On 16 February 2023, Mariam Sankara, her two sons Philippe and Auguste, and the brothers and sisters of the deceased president directly appealed to Ibrahim Traoré, asking him to abandon the decision. They proposed three alternative sites: Dagnoën cemetery, the Garden of Friendship and Yennenga Garden.
The disagreement became public.
The family considered that the decision had been taken without genuine consensus and refused to take part in the ceremony. On 21 February, it confirmed that it would be neither present nor represented at the burial.
On 23 February, the ceremony went ahead regardless.
The government moved forward.
The family remained at a distance.
This sequence is essential to understanding what followed. The Traoré regime would gradually make Sankara’s memory a central element of its own political narrative.
Turning Sankara into state heritage
Since that period, Sankara’s institutional presence has continued to intensify.
The mausoleum intended for Thomas Sankara and his twelve companions was built on the Memorial site. Ibrahim Traoré laid the foundation stone on 15 October 2023, before its inauguration in May 2025. The project is officially presented as intended to preserve and promote the political legacy of the father of the August 1983 revolution.
In 2026, this memorial policy took on yet another dimension with the monthly military ceremonies.
Through these initiatives, the government no longer merely commemorates Sankara. It organises, institutionalises and stages his memory.
This is where one of the major political stakes lies.
In the official narrative, Ibrahim Traoré can thus appear as the one who has finally fully rehabilitated Sankara, restored his memory and taken up his struggle.
Government discourse openly suggests this. In June 2026, during a tribute at the Memorial, the Minister of Foreign Affairs even stated that Sankara’s torch is carried “with dignity and commitment” by Ibrahim Traoré.
Such a presentation mechanically helps to bring the two figures closer together in the collective imagination: Sankara, the assassinated revolutionary; Traoré, the young captain presented as the one taking up the torch.
The risk of a narrative built around Sankara’s body
This is precisely where the family question becomes central.
For Thomas Sankara’s relatives, his legacy cannot be reduced to an instrument of political communication or a backdrop for legitimising power.
Sankara’s body, his remains, his burial place and his family memory have an intimate dimension that the state cannot entirely absorb.
Yet since 2023, the government has taken control of a large part of the institutional staging of this memory: reinterment, mausoleum, military ceremonies, official tributes, speeches on sovereignty and constant references to the revolution.
The paradox is striking: the government that today claims Sankara’s political legacy is also the one with which part of his family found itself in disagreement over the very manner of disposing of his remains.
This is not to assert that Ibrahim Traoré personally seeks to “take” Sankara from his family. Such an intention would be a matter of interpretation and would require additional evidence.
But the facts allow another observation: the regime is gradually constructing a narrative in which Ibrahim Traoré appears as the political heir of Captain Sankara and as the one who has taken up his struggle.
This construction is far from trivial.
It allows the current government to place itself within an extremely powerful revolutionary lineage in Burkina Faso. It also provides a historical reference capable of giving ideological depth to its own discourse on sovereignty, pan-Africanism and independence.
Researchers have moreover noted the frequency with which Traoré invokes Sankara’s memory and the manner in which his political discourse adopts certain themes associated with the former president, notably sovereignty and the rejection of external dependence.
Does memory belong to the government?
This is ultimately the most sensitive question.
Thomas Sankara is not merely a statue, a mausoleum or a military ceremony. He is also a family history, a painful memory and a political struggle whose interpretation cannot be imposed by decree.
The transitional government may legitimately honour his memory. It may restore sites, organise ceremonies and preserve his archives. But another question remains: can it, in the name of this rehabilitation, present itself as the natural custodian of his legacy?
The 2023 precedent shows in any case that the Sankara family has not always accepted the government’s choices regarding this memory.
And therein lies the entire ambiguity of the current narrative.
By constantly presenting itself as the one that “carries the torch” of Sankara, Ibrahim Traoré’s government risks shifting the memory of a man assassinated in 1987 towards another story: that of a contemporary power seeking to inscribe its own name in the continuity of the revolution.
Sankara left behind a body of work and a body of thought. Traoré is today building his own power. Between the two, the memory of Thomas Sankara has become a major political issue.
