PhD student from the University of Cincinnati and guest blogger, Adeniyi Awoyemi criticises Western-centric theories of democratization and development in Comparative Politics. Referring to Goran Hyden’s book Theorising in Comparative Politics, he praises his nuanced exploration of African agency in managing governance challenges. At the same time, Awoyemi regrets the book’s lack of actionable takeaways and calls for tangible frameworks to reimagine democratization rooted in Africa’s unique histories.
When I took a Comparative Politics class last semester, I had a nagging realization: Africa often felt like the invisible guest at the party. Sure, it would come up—usually as a “special case” or a source of “exceptions”—but the discussions were dominated by Western-centric theories that felt, well, misplaced. How could we make sense of democratization in a continent so structurally and historically unique using models designed for post-war Europe?
Consider Goran Hyden’s Theorizing in Comparative Politics: Democratization in Africa (Cambridge University Press, 2024). It’s the kind of book that makes you want to cheer and groan at the same time. Cheer, because Hyden takes aim at exactly this problem, critiquing the obsession with measuring African countries against Western democratic ideals. As he puts it, much of Comparative Politics has become “comparative democratization” rather than an exploration of how and why countries change (p. 135).
Hyden’s analysis still feels refreshing, especially when he highlights how African leaders actively shape their regimes rather than passively adopt external models. “African leaders are not merely at the receiving end of regime formation. They are themselves in the middle of shaping it,” he writes (p. 116). Finally, a narrative that gives African agency its due!
What really stands out in Hyden’s work is his ability to capture the complexity of governance across different African states. His discussion of four East African countries—Kenya, Tanzania, Uganda, and Rwanda—shows how each has navigated governance dilemmas in ways deeply rooted in their histories and local contexts. From Kenya’s transactional politics to Rwanda’s authoritarian modernization, Hyden lays bare the diverse strategies leaders use to reconcile pre-colonial legacies, colonial borders, and contemporary challenges. It is fascinating to see how these regimes reflect what Hyden calls “local soil” rather than the imported ideals of Western democracy (p. 116).
Yet, for all its strengths, the book left me wanting more. And that is where the groan comes in: Hyden doesn’t fully solve the problem he identifies. While the book provides a much-needed critique of the field’s Western bias, it doesn’t go far enough in offering an alternative. It’s like he’s ripped apart the blueprint but left us standing in the rubble without tools to rebuild. While Hyden critiques the tendency to rank African countries on democracy indices, calling out how such measures flatten complex realities, he does not offer much in terms of a new framework. It feels like an unfinished conversation—a necessary disruption but without the follow-through. For instance, when he points out that “democracy needs to be explained, not taken for granted” (p. 136), I found myself nodding vigorously, only to wonder: “Okay, but how do we do that?”
As someone who cares about development, this lack of actionable solutions is frustrating. Hyden makes a compelling case for rejecting Western yardsticks, but if we’re going to rethink how we assess governance in Africa, we need more than critique—we need tools. What does success look like in contexts where democracy isn’t the only game in town? How do we center local realities without falling into the trap of romanticising “authenticity” at the expense of progress?
That said, Theorizing in Comparative Politics still feels like an important contribution. It’s a sharp reminder of why context matters, why we cannot force Africa’s political realities into Western moulds, and why Comparative Politics as a field needs to do better. Hyden’s critique of the field’s teleological assumptions—that democracy is both the end goal and the universal path to development—hits especially hard. It’s a call to stop seeing Africa as a perpetual problem to be solved and start engaging with it as a dynamic, complex continent shaping its own future.
Reading this book, I couldn’t help but think back to my Comparative Politics class and those discussions that left me frustrated. If Hyden’s book had been on the syllabus, maybe we would have had a deeper, more nuanced debate. Maybe someone would have challenged the idea that democracy is the only game in town or that governance can only be judged against Western standards. Maybe I would not have been the only one asking, “But what about Africa?”
In the end, Hyden’s book is not perfect—it does not have all the answers. But it is a vital starting point for a much-needed conversation. And for that, I am grateful.
The views expressed in this post are those of the author and in no way reflect those of the International Development LSE blog or the London School of Economics and Political Science.
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