The Petroleum Amendment Bill is back before the National Assembly, retabled on Wednesday by the Minister of Industries, Mines and Energy, Modestus Amutse. On paper, it is presented as a technical adjustment to Namibia’s petroleum governance framework. In substance, however, it represents a profound shift of power, one that would allow the President of the Republic to grant and revoke oil and gas rights.
From the very onset, it is clear that this bill will be vehemently opposed. Not because Namibians are anti-development, nor because they are hostile to investment in oil and gas, but because the bill raises serious constitutional, governance, and accountability concerns that have not been adequately addressed. In its current form, the Petroleum Amendment Bill risks being rendered dead on arrival.
Namibia stands at a critical historical juncture. The discovery of offshore oil and gas has placed the country under an intense global spotlight, promising both unprecedented opportunity and equally unprecedented risk. In such moments, the instinct of any responsible government should be to deepen transparency, broaden consultation, and strengthen institutional checks and balances. This bill does the opposite.
At the heart of the controversy lies the proposed concentration of authority in the office of the President. Granting and revoking petroleum rights is not a minor administrative function; it is the very core of resource governance. These decisions determine who controls national assets, who profits from them, and under what conditions. To vest such power in a single political office, no matter how well-intentioned the incumbent may be, inevitably raises fears of politicisation, patronage, and abuse.
Namibia’s post-independence governance architecture has consistently sought to avoid precisely this problem. Independent regulators, ministerial oversight, parliamentary scrutiny, and administrative procedures were designed to ensure that no single actor could unilaterally determine the fate of strategic national resources. The Petroleum Amendment Bill, as retabled, appears to unravel this logic.
Supporters of the bill may argue that presidential authority will streamline decision-making, reduce bureaucracy, and attract investors seeking clarity and speed. This argument is neither new nor convincing. Across Africa and beyond, excessive executive discretion in extractive industries has rarely produced efficiency; it has far more often produced corruption scandals, legal uncertainty, and social unrest. Investors value predictability and the rule of law more than they value the unchecked power of a single office.
Equally troubling is the timing and manner of the bill’s return to Parliament. Namibia is still grappling with fundamental questions about how oil and gas revenues will be managed, how local content will be enforced, how environmental risks will be mitigated, and how communities will benefit. These issues remain unsettled in public discourse, yet Parliament is now being asked to approve a bill that fundamentally reshapes control over the sector.
This sequence is backwards. Governance frameworks must precede exploitation, not chase after it. To do otherwise is to invite mistrust.
The reaction from civil society, legal experts, and ordinary citizens has been swift and sceptical. That scepticism should not be dismissed as obstructionism. It reflects a deeper anxiety: that Namibia may be drifting toward a model of resource governance that prioritises executive power over institutional integrity.
The presidency, as an institution, should be particularly cautious here. While the bill may be defended as empowering the head of state, it also exposes that office to suspicion, political pressure, and potential legal challenge. Future presidents, perhaps less restrained, perhaps less trusted, would inherit these sweeping powers. Laws, unlike leaders, outlive their authors.
There is also a constitutional dimension that cannot be ignored. Namibia’s Constitution enshrines principles of administrative justice, separation of powers, and accountability. Any legislation that centralises discretionary authority to grant and revoke rights worth billions of dollars will inevitably be tested against these principles. Passing a bill that is likely to face a constitutional challenge is not legislative efficiency; it is legislative recklessness.
The Windhoek Observer takes the view that the Petroleum Amendment Bill, in its current form, should be postponed. Not withdrawn forever, but paused, deliberately and transparently, until its intentions are clearly articulated and convincingly justified to the Namibian people.
This pause should be used to answer basic but critical questions. Why is presidential authority necessary where institutional mechanisms already exist? What safeguards will prevent political interference? How will decisions be reviewed or appealed? How does this bill align with Namibia’s anti-corruption commitments and international best practice in extractive governance?
Public consultations should not be perfunctory exercises conducted after decisions have effectively been made. They must be genuine, inclusive, and informed. Parliament, too, must assert its role not as a rubber stamp, but as a guardian of the public interest.
Namibia has often distinguished itself in the region by choosing restraint over haste and institutions over personalities. The discovery of oil and gas should not become the moment when that tradition is abandoned.
If pushed through without broad consensus and clear justification, the Petroleum Amendment Bill will face fierce resistance inside and outside Parliament. It will struggle for legitimacy. And it may well collapse under its own weight.
In moments of national consequence, patience is not weakness. It is wisdom. The President would do well to exercise it now.
