Liberia’s 1986 Constitution gives each chamber of the Legislature meaningful authority over its own internal affairs. Article 38 plainly says that each House may adopt its own rules of procedure, enforce order, and, by a two-thirds vote of its full membership, expel a member for cause. But the same article also contains the limiting principle too many political actors conveniently ignore: all legislative rules “shall conform to the requirements of due process of law laid down in this Constitution.” In other words, the House’s disciplinary power is real, but it is not absolute. It exists inside the Constitution, not above it. Article 2 reinforces that hierarchy by declaring the Constitution supreme and rendering inconsistent acts void. Articles 20, 38 and 44, read together, make a single point unmistakable: punishment by the Legislature must still satisfy constitutional due process.

By Dr. Clarence R. Pearson, Sr., contributing writer

That is why the controversy surrounding Representative Yekeh Kolubah is larger than one lawmaker, one speech, or one House vote. It raises a deeper and more dangerous question: What happens when constitutional limits are not merely ignored, but repeatedly reinterpreted for political convenience—and no consequences follow?

From Constitutional Boundaries to Constitutional Flexibility

The first constitutional question is not whether the House disagreed with Kolubah’s statements. It clearly did. The question is whether he received the kind of process the Constitution requires before a penalty as severe as expulsion could lawfully be imposed.

The Supreme Court of Liberia has been consistent on this point. In Alvin Teage Jalloh v. Akerele et al., drawing from Wolo v. Wolo, the Court reaffirmed that due process means a fair hearing before punishment. Not a symbolic hearing. Not a rushed procedure. Not a politically predetermined outcome—but a real opportunity to know the charges, confront them, and defend oneself before an impartial process.

More recently, in the 2024 legislative crisis involving former Speaker J. Fonati Koffa, the Court again emphasized that legislative actions—especially those affecting the status or rights of elected officials—must comply with due process requirements. The Court did not merely suggest this; it treated due process as a constitutional condition precedent to legitimacy.

Yet, what is increasingly troubling is not simply the failure to meet this standard. It is the emerging pattern of selective interpretation—or outright misrepresentation—of Supreme Court opinions to justify actions that would otherwise fail constitutional scrutiny.

The Rise of Judicial Misrepresentation

One of the most dangerous developments in Liberia’s governance culture today is the subtle but growing practice of invoking Supreme Court rulings in ways that distort their actual meaning.

Court opinions that emphasize legislative autonomy are often quoted—while deliberately omitting the equally binding language requiring conformity to due process. Decisions that recognize internal House authority are presented as if they grant unchecked power, when in fact they explicitly impose constitutional limits. In some instances, even interim orders or procedural rulings are spun as final endorsements of political actions.

This is not a harmless misunderstanding. It is a form of constitutional manipulation.

When the Judiciary speaks, it does so through reasoned opinions grounded in the Constitution. To extract only the convenient fragments while ignoring the binding principles is to weaponize the Court against the very Constitution it is meant to defend.

And when such distortions go unchallenged—or worse, unpunished—they create a dangerous precedent: that the Constitution can be interpreted not by law, but by political necessity.

Impunity as a Governance Culture

What makes the current moment particularly alarming is not any single decision, but the pattern of impunity that is beginning to take shape.

When prior constitutional violations go uncorrected, they do not disappear; they become reference points. When actions taken without due process are allowed to stand, they become templates. When the Supreme Court’s authority is tested and its interpretations selectively ignored, it gradually weakens the institutional expectation of compliance.

This is how impunity matures—not suddenly, but incrementally.

First, due process is shortened.
Then, it is redefined.
Finally, it is bypassed altogether.

Each step is justified as exceptional. Each action is defended as necessary. But over time, exceptions become norms, and norms become culture.

Liberia has seen this trajectory before. History shows that constitutional erosion rarely begins with open defiance. It begins with reinterpretation, rationalization, and selective enforcement.

The Expulsion Question Revisited

Against this backdrop, the question of whether Representative Kolubah received due process becomes even more consequential.

If reports are accurate that his legal counsel was denied meaningful participation, that timelines were compressed in ways that undermined preparation, and that proceedings continued despite judicial intervention, then the issue is no longer procedural—it is constitutional.

Article 20 guarantees that no person shall be deprived of rights without due process. Article 21 reinforces protections in matters involving accusations of wrongdoing. Article 38 explicitly binds legislative rules to these requirements.

The House of Representatives is not exempt from these provisions. It is subject to them.

Moreover, the characterization of Kolubah’s statements as potentially treasonous introduces another layer of concern. Treason is not a political label; it is a legal determination. It requires evidence, intent, and adjudication within the judicial system—not a legislative committee operating under political pressure.

To allow legislative bodies to effectively declare treason without judicial process is to collapse the separation of powers and undermine the rule of law.

The National Risk: From Precedent to Crisis

The danger of these developments extends far beyond one lawmaker or one legislative session.

When due process becomes negotiable, political security replaces legal security. When court rulings are selectively interpreted, institutional authority becomes conditional. When impunity is normalized, accountability becomes optional.

At that point, democracy itself begins to hollow out.

Liberia’s constitutional system depends not only on written provisions, but on a shared commitment to uphold them—even when inconvenient. The Legislature, the Executive, and the Judiciary are not competitors; they are co-equal guardians of the same constitutional order.

If one branch begins to reinterpret that order for short-term advantage, and the others fail to respond effectively, the entire system becomes unstable.

This is the true danger.

A Necessary Appeal: The Responsibility Beyond Government

At moments like this, the preservation of constitutional democracy cannot be left solely to institutions that may themselves be under strain. It requires a broader, collective response from the society that the Constitution is meant to serve.

Citizens must recognize that due process is not a privilege reserved for politicians; it is a protection for everyone. When it is denied to one individual—no matter how controversial—the precedent threatens all. Silence in the face of procedural injustice is not neutrality; it is permission.

Political activists, across party lines, must resist the temptation to defend constitutional violations simply because they disadvantage a rival. Today’s political victory achieved through legal shortcuts can become tomorrow’s vulnerability when power shifts. Constitutional consistency—not political convenience—must be the standard.

Civil society organizations carry a unique burden in this moment. They must move beyond statements of concern to sustained advocacy—documenting violations, educating the public, and, where necessary, pursuing legal remedies that reaffirm constitutional boundaries. The defense of due process must be organized, visible, and persistent.

Development partners and the international community must also take note. Liberia’s democratic stability has long benefited from external support grounded in governance, rule of law, and institutional accountability. That support must not become indifferent to emerging patterns of constitutional deviation. Diplomatic engagement, technical assistance, and governance partnerships should reinforce—not overlook—the necessity of adherence to due process and judicial integrity.

This is not a call for confrontation, but for caution and consistency. A democracy does not collapse in a single moment; it erodes when violations become tolerated, normalized, and eventually institutionalized.

A Call to Courage: The Role of Representative Yekeh Kolubah

In this unfolding constitutional moment, Representative Yekeh Kolubah himself occupies a critical position—not merely as a subject of legislative action, but as a potential defender of constitutional clarity.

He must not be deterred by the decision to expel him. History has shown that moments of institutional overreach often require individuals willing to challenge them through lawful means. The Constitution provides that path. The courts—and ultimately the Supreme Court—remain the proper arbiters of whether due process has been upheld or violated.

To pursue this matter judicially is not an act of defiance against the Legislature; it is an affirmation of the rule of law. It is an opportunity to seek clarity not just for his own case, but for the future conduct of legislative discipline in Liberia.

By challenging this decision through the Supreme Court, Representative Kolubah would be placing the Constitution—not politics—at the center of the dispute. Such an action would help define the boundaries of Article 38, reaffirm the meaning of due process, and restore confidence that constitutional questions are settled by law, not by majority will alone.

The strength of a democracy is often measured not by the absence of conflict, but by the willingness of its actors to resolve conflict within the framework of law. This is one such moment.

A Warning for a Fragile Democracy

Liberia stands at a critical moment. The issue is no longer whether a particular action was right or wrong. The issue is whether the Constitution remains the final authority, or whether it is gradually being reshaped by political expediency.

Article 38 does not grant the Legislature unchecked power. It grants authority conditioned by due process. Article 2 does not merely declare supremacy; it demands obedience. The Supreme Court does not issue suggestions; it renders binding interpretations.

To ignore these principles is not just to violate the Constitution. It is to weaken the very foundation upon which the Republic stands.

If impunity continues to embolden such actions—if misinterpretations of the law become normalized, and if due process becomes optional—then Liberia risks entering a phase where legality is determined not by law, but by power.

And history has shown, time and again, that once a nation reaches that point, the cost of restoration is always far greater than the cost of compliance.

The Constitution is not under threat because it is weak. It is under threat because it is being bent.

And if it continues to bend without resistance, it will eventually break.