History of the Country in Togo

Published on May 14, 2026 and written by Cyril Jarnias

Located on the Gulf of Guinea, landlocked between Ghana, Benin, and Burkina Faso, Togo is a small territory of 56,000 km², yet with a political, economic, and social history of rare intensity. From the “Slave Coast” to the struggles for independence, from the myth of the German “model colony” to the long Gnassingbé dynasty, the country’s trajectory vividly illuminates African paths between colonization, authoritarianism, and the quest for sovereignty.

From Early Settlements to the Slave Coast

Long before the arrival of Europeans, the territory corresponding to Togo was already densely populated and structured. Archaeological research reveals continuous human presence from the Late Paleolithic through the 19th century, with early mastery of pottery, iron metallurgy, and sophisticated agrarian organization. The oldest identified settlements are concentrated in mountainous areas and interfluves, particularly in the Atakora range and the northern and central plateaus.

Among these so-called indigenous populations, three broad groups can be distinguished: mountain communities (Ntrubo, Akebou, Akposso, Nyogbo of Mount Agou, Kabyè, Lamba, some Tem clans), groups strongly associated with ironworking (certain Bassar lineages, Alou of Tado), and lowland populations (Betammaribè, Natchaba, Dyé, Konkomba, Moba, Nawda, Agome, Tégbé). These groups form the ancient foundation onto which new migratory waves would be grafted from the 11th century onward.

Meanwhile, the coastline very early became part of Atlantic networks. From the 15th century, Portuguese explorers sailed along the coast, soon followed by the Dutch, Danes, British, and French. The seafront, lacking large natural harbors but embedded in a dense lagoon system, became a key piece of the “Slave Coast,” between the Volta and the Lagos Lagoon. Places like Aného (Petit-Popo), Grand-Popo, and Agoué turned into stops for massive human trafficking.

This trade was not limited to transatlantic commerce. It relied on an ancient system of internal domestic slavery within the region, facilitated by caravan routes linking north and south. The Tchamba and Kabyè peoples, originally from northern Togo, were particularly sought after as domestic servants in coastal cities. The memory of this internal slavery is still carried by religious practices such as the Tchamba vodun, which dramatizes, in rituals, the descendants of slaves and masters, forcing a confrontation with a often-concealed past.

Precolonial Kingdoms and Buffer Zones

Before the colonial partition, the future Togo was not a state, but a mosaic of kingdoms, chiefdoms, and villages. In the south, the area was marked by two major formations: the Aja-Tado kingdom, probably founded before the year 1000, and the Ewe kingdom of Notsé. According to tradition, Notsé was surrounded in the 17th century by a wall, the Agbogbo, erected by King Agokoli. His legendary cruelty, impossible forced labor, and persecutions drove a large part of the Ewe into exile toward the coast, notably toward the future areas of Lomé, Togoville, and Aného.

One of the emblematic kingdoms of the south is Togo-Bè, centered on Togoville, around Lake Togo. Founded by Ewe, governed by the Mlapa lineage, it extended over approximately 600 km². Although originally animist, Togo-Bè was deeply affected by the slave trade and then by its abolition: the end of the slave trade ruined its economy, weakened royal power, and opened the way for missionary penetration, particularly German, starting in 1847.

From German Protectorate to the Myth of the “Model Colony”

Togo’s entry into the modern colonial system occurred brutally in the context of the “Scramble for Africa.” In 1883, German Chancellor Otto von Bismarck, previously hesitant about overseas expansion, decided to secure footholds on the West African coast. Special envoy Gustav Nachtigal was tasked with negotiating protectorate treaties with local authorities.

On July 5, 1884, in Togoville, Nachtigal signed with King Mlapa III the treaty placing the Kingdom of Togo-Bè under German “protection.” A dignitary, Plakou, affixed his signature on behalf of the sovereign. The agreement was presented as an opening toward “development” after the ravages of the slave trade, but in reality it ratified the loss of the kingdom’s sovereignty. This treaty is considered the founding act of the colony of Togoland, quickly expanded inland through a series of successive agreements with France and Great Britain (boundary demarcations in 1885, 1897, 1899).

Starting in 1904, three railway lines were built from Lomé: one to Aného along the coast, one to Kpalimé (coffee and cocoa area), and one to Atakpamé then Blitta, intended for cotton and traffic to the north. Over 1,000 km of roads passable by vehicles were also built, often through forced labor. The priority was clearly to open up “useful Togo,” that is, the fertile agricultural regions of the south and center-west, for the export of cash crops: palm oil, palm kernels, cocoa, rubber, and then cotton.

This policy led to a spectacular increase in exports, so much so that by the 1900s, Togo ranked among the most profitable German colonies, with a balanced budget thanks to customs duties. In the eyes of German public opinion, Togoland became the showcase of a colonial empire presented as “modern” and “peaceful,” in contrast to the bloody image of German East Africa or German South-West Africa.

Paradoxically, this period left an ambivalent memory in part of Togolese society, often very positive, which persists to this day. A marked Germanophilia developed: some Togolese, especially among the elites, valued the “qualities” attributed to Germans—rigor, discipline, sense of organization—and praised the inherited infrastructure (Lomé Cathedral, old train stations, bridges, administrative buildings, introduction of new species like teak or mango). However, historians’ work reminds us that this narrative of the “model colony” rests on myths and largely obscures the structural violence of the colonial system.

Between League of Nations Mandates and UN Trusteeship

World War I upset this balance. As early as August 1914, British troops from the Gold Coast and French units based in Dahomey invaded Togoland. The campaign was brief: within days, German forces abandoned the Kamina station, destroyed the post to prevent its capture, and signed an unconditional surrender. By 1916, the territory was split into two administrative zones: a western part entrusted to the British, an eastern part administered by France.

In 1922, the League of Nations ratified this division by transforming Togoland into a class B mandated territory. The western fraction became British Togoland, administratively attached to the Gold Coast. The eastern part became French Togoland (Togo français, or Togoland under French Administration), administered by a French commissioner assisted by an advisory executive council. Legally, these territories were not annexed but administered “by virtue of a mandate”; in practice, they were managed like classic colonial dependencies.

French colonial authorities pursued a policy of development centered on export agriculture (cocoa, coffee, oil palm) and planned settlement of the interior, notably by Kabyè groups and other peoples. In the north, peanut cultivation was introduced; campaigns against trypanosomiasis were carried out. But once again, investments were heavily concentrated in regions deemed most profitable: the South, the plateaus, and the center-west. The north remained largely excluded from infrastructure, especially schools, laying the groundwork for persistent regional imbalances.

After World War II, the legal framework changed: in 1946, both parts of Togoland moved from the mandate system to United Nations trusteeship. France and Great Britain became “administering authorities” on behalf of the UN. French Togoland then sent a deputy to the French National Assembly, two senators to the Council of the Republic, and a councilor to the Assembly of the French Union. A local representative assembly was established, with competence over internal affairs.

Legal framework of Togoland after 1946

It was within this framework that the so-called “Ewe question” and, more broadly, the future of the entire former Togoland, burst into the open. The Ewe, a majority people in southern Togo and also present in southeastern Gold Coast, asked the Trusteeship Council that their territories be reunited under a single administration. Behind this demand lay several options: full integration into the Gold Coast, reunification into a unified Togo, or maintaining the partition. By the late 1940s and early 1950s, these debates became one of the first African cases handled by the UN on the issue of colonial borders.

A plebiscite was held on May 9, 1956 in the British part. The majority of voters chose integration with the Gold Coast rather than maintaining trusteeship. Despite an Ewe vote unfavorable to this integration in some districts, British Togoland was incorporated into the future independent Ghana in 1957. The dream of a unified Togo, encompassing all the territories of the former German colony, vanished.

The March to Independence of the Togolese Republic

On the French side, the trajectory was different. Under pressure from the United Nations, France granted in 1955 a status of autonomous republic to French Togoland, within the French Union. This status, confirmed by a referendum in October 1956, created a Legislative Assembly elected by universal suffrage and an executive headed by a Prime Minister responsible to the Assembly. Nicolas Grunitzky, a moderate figure favorable to maintaining close ties with Paris, was appointed head of government.

But the legitimacy of this process was contested. The irregularities of the 1956 plebiscite, the boycott by certain nationalist parties, notably the Togolese Unity Committee (CUT), led the UN to demand new elections. In April 1958, a ballot supervised by the United Nations resulted in the defeat of Grunitzky’s party and the victory of the CUT, led by Sylvanus Olympio.

A former Unilever executive, educated at the London School of Economics, polyglot (French, German, English), from an influential trading family, Olympio embodied a generation of African nationalists who wanted to combine economic modernity, a break with colonial tutelage, and national unity. Becoming Prime Minister, he led the final negotiations with France. On April 27, 1960, Togo became independent, formally ending the UN trusteeship agreement, and took the name Togolese Republic, often now referred to as Togo.

Internationally, the young Republic engaged in a regional dynamic: Togo joined the Organization of African Unity (OAU) in 1963, participated in Francophone cooperation frameworks such as the African and Malagasy Organization, and sought to diversify its partnerships. Domestically, Olympio displayed a clear ambition: to break out of the exclusive relationship with the former colonial power, assert monetary autonomy by considering leaving the CFA franc zone, modernize the economy by favoring cash crops and betting on education.

Uneven Growth, Social Fracture, and the First Coups d’État

The first years of independence were marked by rapid economic growth. Between 1960 and 1980, per capita income doubled and Togo became a regional banking and logistics hub. In the 1960s, real GDP growth averaged around 7% per year, among the highest rates in Africa. During the 1970s, it held at around 5%, boosted notably by the rise of phosphate exports, which became the leading export product as early as the mid-1960s.

Lomé attracted regional institutions: West African cooperation organizations, such as ECOWAS or the West African Monetary Union, located their development banks there. The European Union chose the Togolese capital to sign its trade and cooperation conventions with African, Caribbean, and Pacific countries. Togo thus sought to capitalize on its geographical position and its tradition of commercial openness.

At the same time, the young political elite closed ranks. Olympio effectively established a one-party system. The opposition was marginalized, some leaders were imprisoned or in exile. Frustrations grew, especially among the military. Many Togolese non-commissioned officers, demobilized from the French army after fighting in Indochina or Algeria, vainly demanded integration into the small national army. Olympio, anxious to limit public spending and guard against an overly powerful army, rejected their request.

The shock was continental. Several African countries vigorously denounced the putsch, but the outrage quickly subsided. A military junta installed a civilian government led by Nicolas Grunitzky, steering the country back toward a line more favorable to France. The army, whose numbers grew in a few years from a few hundred to over a thousand men, established itself as the ultimate arbiter of political life.

On January 13, 1967, exactly four years to the day after the first coup, Lieutenant Colonel Gnassingbé Eyadéma in turn overthrew Grunitzky in a new, largely bloodless coup. He dissolved all political parties and assumed the presidency. In 1969, he founded the Rally of the Togolese People (RPT), the single party that would structure political life for decades.

The Long Reign of Eyadéma: Party-State, Crisis, and Adjustments

The Eyadéma regime profoundly marked the history of Togo. Officially president from April 1967, the Kabyè military officer installed an authoritarian system centered on his person, the single party, and a loyal army. Power relied on strong ethnic ties—particularly with the Kabyè of the north—and on clientelism that permeated the administration, state enterprises, and security forces.

During part of the 1970s, the spectacular rise in phosphate prices provided the regime with considerable revenue. The quadrupling of prices in 1974 prompted the government to launch large infrastructure programs, create state-owned companies, and pursue ambitious industrial projects. But the subsequent fall in commodity prices, combined with reckless management, left behind massive debt, deficit-ridden state enterprises, and a bloated administrative apparatus.

Politically, Eyadéma maintained a facade of controlled multipartyism from the 1990s onward, but power remained concentrated in his hands. The attempt at opening came under pressure from the democratic wave sweeping Africa at the beginning of the decade and the end of the Cold War. In 1991, a Sovereign National Conference was convened in Lomé, modeled on the one held in neighboring Benin. It proposed the establishment of a semi-presidential system and appointed a transitional prime minister. But within months, the army retook the initiative, intimidated the opposition, crushed hopes: Eyadéma restored his authority, multiplied political persecutions, and drove about 350,000 Togolese into exile, primarily to Benin and Ghana.

From Father to Son: The Gnassingbé Dynasty and the Crisis of Democracy

When Gnassingbé Eyadéma died suddenly in February 2005, after 38 years in power, the army immediately reacted by installing his son Faure Gnassingbé as head of state, in violation of the constitution. Under international pressure, this appointment was disguised as an election a few weeks later. The ballot, marked by severe violence (about 700 dead and over 40,000 refugees according to international reports), confirmed Faure in office.

A comprehensive political agreement in 2006 paved the way for legislative elections considered more transparent in 2007. Faure Gnassingbé consolidated his power in the presidential elections of 2010, 2015, and 2020, winning each time despite persistent accusations of fraud and structural manipulation: contested electoral commission, subservient judiciary, media under pressure, use of force against the opposition. In 2019, a constitutional reform reintroduced a two-term limit of five years each… but without retroactive effect, allowing Faure to run in 2020 and potentially in 2025.

This system has sparked fierce opposition, particularly in the south of the country and among the youth. Large mobilizations erupted in 2017–2018, demanding an effective return to the two-term limit, an end to the grip of the Gnassingbé family, and a thorough reform of the electoral framework. Figures such as Jean-Pierre Fabre, Tikpi Atchadam, or activist Farida Nabourema embody this rejection of the status quo. The demonstrations left several dead, hundreds arrested, and saw massive use of force by the security apparatus.

These imbalances fuel deep distrust. According to opinion surveys, more than 70% of Togolese express the wish to see the two-term limit respected, and a large majority considers economic management unsatisfactory and institutions (presidency, parliament, judiciary, police, electoral commission) corrupt or partisan. Togo remains classified as an “authoritarian regime” in international democracy indices.

A New Stage: The 2024 Constitutional “Reform”

In this context of contestation, the constitutional reform adopted in 2024 marks a turning point. Officially, it aims to transform the presidential regime into a parliamentary system, with a President of the Republic elected by Parliament and a Senate, for a single, essentially honorary term, and a President of the Council of Ministers, head of the executive, appointed by the parliamentary majority and not subject to term limits.

Many Togolese actors—opposition parties, civil society organizations, legal experts—denounce what they call a “constitutional coup.” They note that the reform was adopted without genuine public debate, without a referendum even though the gravity of the changes called for one, and in the absence of significant opposition in Parliament. Several appeals have been filed before the ECOWAS Court of Justice. Inside the country, protests resumed in 2024–2025, often violently repressed. NGO reports and testimonies mention arbitrary arrests, disappearances, cases of torture, internet shutdowns, and the use of live ammunition.

Agriculture, the Historical Backbone of the Economy

From an economic standpoint, Togo’s history remains inseparable from its agriculture. From the German colonial era, the territory was integrated into global circuits through cash crops—oil palm, cocoa, coffee, cotton—largely produced by small farmers but overseen by companies and the administration. Under French colonization and after independence, cocoa and coffee remained the pillars of agricultural export earnings, averaging 85% of agricultural exports in the 1970s and up to 50% of total export value in the 1960s.

Yet the sector’s performance remains mixed: yields remain low, irrigation infrastructure is limited, access to inputs and credit is difficult, especially for smallholders. Export crops have experienced mixed fortunes. Cotton, mainly grown in the Plateaux and Savanes regions, saw a real boom in the 1980s–1990s, with production approaching 200,000 tons at the end of the century, before suffering climate shocks, price crises, and governance problems.

The history of these sectors also reflects that of the Togolese state. In 1964, the Office of Agricultural Products of Togo (OPAT) was created to oversee purchasing, price setting, and external marketing of coffee and cocoa. A former tool of colonial control, this type of structure was taken over by the independent state, which used it to capture a share of the agricultural rent. But producer prices long kept at low levels, combined with aging plantations, lack of sustained replanting programs, land issues, and falling international prices, led to a decline in production from the mid-1970s. The volume of marketed coffee and cocoa roughly halved.

Phosphate, whose exploitation began in 1961, reshuffled the cards. Becoming the leading export product by the mid-1960s, it provided the state with considerable foreign exchange, especially during global price spikes. But dependence on this resource, combined with its opaque management, also contributed to macroeconomic vulnerability. Stagnant prices, production costs, aging infrastructure, and suspicions of personal enrichment at the highest levels of the state made it a symbol of the “resource curse” on a Togolese scale.

Territorial Disparities and Colonial Legacies

A common thread runs through this history: the structural division of the country between North and South, largely inherited from German then French colonial policies. From the protectorate era, heavy infrastructure (roads, rails, telegraph) was concentrated in the coastal south and forested plateaus, deemed more “profitable” due to their natural palm groves and coffee and cocoa potential. Extension toward the north was conceived primarily for the “development” of the south: roads to bring in seasonal labor, caravan routes adapted for trade, few social investments.

The Eyadéma regime, a native of the north, partially reversed this pattern without correcting its roots. While it favored the access of many Kabyè to the army, senior civil service, and positions of power, the bulk of structural economic infrastructure—port, banks, industries, major schools—remained concentrated in Lomé and the south. The result is a double fracture: territorial (North/South) and socio-political (groups seen as “close to” or “distant from” power).

Togo Today: Between Political Crisis, Security Challenges, and Development Issues

On the eve of the fifth Republic, Togo stands at the crossroads of several major dynamics. Politically, the country is experiencing one of its most serious crises since the 1991 National Conference. The 2024 constitutional reform, interpreted as an instrument to indefinitely prolong the domination of the Gnassingbé family, has triggered widespread mobilizations, particularly among the youth, and repression deemed alarming by human rights organizations. The political scene is deeply polarized, the opposition weakened by divisions, repression, and exiles.

Economically, Togo continues to post respectable growth, supported by infrastructure projects and the dynamism of the Port of Lomé. The government aims to transform the country into a logistics and services platform, modeled on Asian examples like Singapore. But social fundamentals remain fragile: more than half the population lives in poverty, the informal sector dominates, youth unemployment is high, territorial inequalities persist.

Finally, Togo is trying to strengthen its diplomatic stature. The country joined the Commonwealth in 2022, a sign of its desire to broaden its alliances beyond the Francophone sphere. President Faure Gnassingbé has positioned himself as a mediator in several regional crises, including within ECOWAS and the African Union, consolidating an image of a “pivot country” between the Gulf of Guinea and the Sahel. But this international recognition contrasts with recurrent criticisms of the state of public liberties and political rights at home.

A Few Numerical Benchmarks Over the Long Term

Togo’s history can also be read through a few series of figures that illuminate its economic transformations.

Evolution of Agriculture’s Weight and Growth

Period / Year	Real GDP Growth	Agriculture’s Share of GDP	Key Remarks
1960s	≈ 7% / year	≈ 45% (1973)	Strong growth, emerging regional hub
1970s	≈ 5% / year	≈ 30% (1978)	Phosphate boom, rise of large state enterprises
1976‑1980 (3rd Plan)	Overall target 8%	Primary target 5.2%	Agricultural targets partially met
2010	–	≈ 23% (2018 later data)	Beginning of agricultural sector acceleration
2010‑2017 (agriculture)	from 3.95% to 7.7%	> 40% of GDP	Notable agricultural recovery
Since 2011 (economy)	≈ 5% / year	> 40% of GDP	Growth above regional average

Coffee and Cocoa Sectors: Key Milestones

Period / Year	Approximate Production / Exports	Comment
1960‑1964	≈ 11,500 t cocoa / year (average)	Post-independence ramp-up
1970	≈ 30,000 t cocoa	Historical production peak
1966‑1975	Cocoa = 27% of recorded export earnings	Flagship product of export economy
1970s	Cocoa + coffee = 85% of agricultural exports	Decisive weight in foreign exchange
1998‑2003 (coffee)	From 11,000 t to 17,000 t	Slight recovery before further decline
2017‑2019 (coffee)	National production: 1,090 t (2017), 4,883 t (2018), 3,465 t (2019)	Fluctuating volumes, weakened sector
2017‑2019 (coffee exports)	476 t (2017), 2,089 t (2018), 2,379 t (2019)	98% of production destined for export
2020‑2021	Sharp decline in coffee/cocoa exports	Impact of the Covid‑19 pandemic
2023‑2024 vs 2024‑2025	Coffee exports: 2,618 t → 4,400 t; cocoa: 11,182 t → 24,000 t	Increase of about 50% after adoption of recovery plans

These few figures show just how much Togo’s economy, from the colonial period to the present day, remains exposed to fluctuations in global commodity prices, which directly impacts the political trajectory, as export rents shape the state’s room for maneuver.

Conclusion: A Country Shaped by Continuities and Ruptures

The history of the country now called Togo sketches a striking interplay of continuities and ruptures. Continuity of extractive logics, first, from the slave trade through the colonial exploitation of cash crops, to the mining rent and finally a contemporary economy still highly dependent on raw materials. Continuity also of the territory’s strategic importance: precolonial buffer zone between Asante and Dahomey, German “model colony,” laboratory of League of Nations mandates and UN trusteeship, today’s regional port hub.

But this history is also one of brutal ruptures: partition of Togoland after 1914, abandonment of the option of a reunified Togo in favor of integrating the British segment into Ghana, assassination of the first president in 1963, military coups, aborted transition of the 1990s, and, more recently, an institutional change that empties the principle of political alternation of its substance.

Understanding Togo requires grasping this superposition of historical layers: the precolonial kingdoms, the Slave Coast, the German protectorate, the dual Franco-British administration, the frustrated birth of the Togolese Republic, Eyadéma’s party-state, the Gnassingbé dynasty, and today, the deadlock of a massively contested constitutional reform. Only on this condition can one apprehend the challenges of the present: reinventing a social contract, bridging regional and social fractures, breaking free from dependence on rents, and above all, finally opening a political horizon where alternation would be more than a slogan, but a reality.