War on Civil Society, Continuity of Plunder
Unable to halt Angola’s structural plunder, the government of João Lourenço has declared war on civil society. The new NGO law turns popular dissent into an enemy of the State and uses “security” as a smokescreen to protect a failing regime and the impunity of plunder.
The proposed Law on Non-Governmental Organizations (NGOs) that the ruling MPLA is preparing to approve on January 22, 2025, is an act of political desperation. It is designed to conceal the disastrous governance of João Lourenço and to divert attention from Angola’s ongoing structural plunder. It is the latest manoeuvre by a party that has ruled the country without interruption since independence in 1975 — after five decades of state capture.
From its preamble to its final chapters, the law abandons the constitutional framework of freedom of association (Article 48 of the Constitution of the Republic of Angola) and places NGOs under a permanent regime of suspicion, built on three pillars: money laundering, terrorist financing, and State security. Not as concrete and proportionate risks, but as a general presumption governing all activity.
Unable to confront the real problem — the broad social consensus on the failure of his rule — the regime chooses a politically safe target: civil society. A target that poses no immediate risk of retaliation, is easy to encircle, and whose symbolic criminalization produces instant dividends for the security apparatus.
To shield itself from popular dissent, the Lourenço regime now turns independent vehicles of public discontent into enemies. Unable to serve the people, it recasts the people as enemies of its own power.
This is a strategy of preventive immobilization. The weakening of civil society has not been sudden; it is the result of a long, methodical, and cumulative process of erosion through poverty, fear, co-optation, and the normalization of mere survival as the ultimate horizon. In a society struggling daily for bread, time and energy to contest what truly matters — the meaning of the State, the quality of power, shared identities, and a collective vision of the future — become scarce.
Even so, organized structures, however fragile, always represent a potential risk, that of collective articulation. It is precisely this risk that the regime seeks to neutralize.
João Lourenço is approaching the end of his second and final mandate without any plausible exit strategy that safeguards his private interests and those of his inner circle. With an MPLA congress looming in December and an uncertain succession ahead, control replaces governance.
The NGO law is therefore a smokescreen. A siege.
Presented under the worn-out language of “security,” “counterterrorism,” and “anti–money laundering,” the proposal does not recognize NGOs as rights-bearing actors. It treats them as latent threats, imposing an extensive regime of administrative control. The axis of the relationship between the State and civil society is shifted from rights to internal security.
The Constitution enshrines freedom of association. This law takes the opposite path. It subordinates the exercise of that right to administrative authorizations, permanent monitoring, and sanctions applicable without prior judicial decision. NGOs cease to be autonomous actors and become objects of permanent legal surveillance by the security apparatus.
The invocation of terrorism is instrumental. The law identifies no concrete risks, makes no sectoral distinctions, and applies no proportionality criteria. It implicitly assumes that all NGOs are potential terrorist risks.
One of the most serious aspects of the bill is the concentration of power in the Executive. Core matters — such as authorization to operate, the definition of the supervisory body, and monitoring criteria — are delegated to regulations to be approved by the President of the Republic. In practice, freedom of association becomes dependent on discretionary administrative acts. Parliament abdicates its role and hands the Executive the power to allow, restrict, or suspend the very existence of NGOs.
The law authorizes the administrative suspension of an NGO for up to 180 days, renewable, based on “strong indications.” Any organization that dares to continue its activities during suspension commits the crime of disobedience. The State punishes first and judges later.
Under the label of “monitoring, supervision, and evaluation,” a system of total surveillance is established to control national and international financial transactions, registration of leaders and beneficial owners, anonymous denunciations, and information-sharing with the Financial Intelligence Unit and the Public Prosecutor. The predictable effect is intimidation, malicious denunciations, self-censorship, and civic retreat — particularly in sensitive areas such as human rights, governance, citizenship, and fundamental freedoms.
Although the text proclaims NGO autonomy, it empties it article by article. The State defines priorities, conditions funding, suggests areas of operation, controls activities, and decides who may or may not function.
None of this addresses the real plunder.
While rigged public contracts, obscene direct awards, captured state-owned enterprises, and high-level corruption schemes remain untouched, the government points its finger at NGOs — as if Angola’s greatest threat lay with those distributing food, defending human rights, or promoting citizenship.
NGOs do not control oil or diamonds, do not capture the State Budget, do not contract opaque loans that indebt generations, and do not decide billion-dollar contracts. Cynicism reaches its peak when the law prohibits NGOs from exporting capital, while large-scale capital flight at the top remains unpunished.
It is the morality of the thief who police the honest to protect the corrupt.
The real plunder takes place in the corridors of power. That is why it is easier to monitor NGOs than to confront entrenched networks within the State; easier to control those who denounce than those who loot.
By declaring war on civil society, the Lourenço regime does not demonstrate strength. It announces its irreversible decline. This law is the political receipt of the moral collapse of an Executive incapable of reforming the State or serving the people. It governs by coercion, not legitimacy. It governs by fear. Fear of the people.