Trump 2.0 and US-Africa relations: Courting a derided continent, By Toyin Falola

Neither its leaders, when they choose to be responsible, nor its people, wish to be pawns on the boards of geopolitical mammoths. As such, a lateral approach that promises a win-win is optimal. Indeed, there is a lot of room for the Trump team to exploit if they so please…. By exploring people-centred, democratic alternatives through open agreements and conversations that balance the interests of both parties, the United States can assert itself in Africa. Most of this is bureaucratic grunt work. And it remains to be seen whether the powerful Republicans will do it.

For many Africans, the epic story of Donald Trump did not start with his victory at the polls on 5 November. It started with his profane characterisation of Africa as replete with “shithole countries,” a statement that drew ire from across the continent. The undiplomatic nature of that comment, nonetheless, it would appear that Trumpist conservatism managed to find its way into the hearts of Africans wary of Harris-inspired wokeism. And this is by no means recent. Following the inauguration of Trump into office for his first tenure, he fired a salvo of actions that immediately earned the United States an uncharacteristic designation as isolationist. As one media outfit reported, perceptions of Donald Trump recorded sharp plummets in various countries, including America’s stalwart, traditional European partners.

In Nigeria and Kenya, however, the data was considerably more inspiring. The Pew Research Centre in 2018 revealed that support for the Republicans stood at 59 per cent in Nigeria and 56 per cent in Kenya. In South Africa, where views were noticeably dimmer, it was 39 per cent. By 2020, notable shifts had occurred in the data obtained by Pew in its polling of the three countries — 65 per cent of Kenyans, 58 per cent of Nigerians, and 42 per cent of South Africans, now believed that Trump would do the right thing in world affairs. Once again, these perceptions differed from an international average of confidence level pegged at 29 per cent, a dismal figure buoyed by countries disenchanted with him. Analysts have argued that a slew of reasons drives the 78-year-old’s fan base in African countries, sometimes united thematically and other times as diverse as the historical backgrounds of the nations themselves. In essence, while some African respondents may find it convenient to side with Trump for his symbolism as the protector of their conservative — patriarchally-inspired — sentiments, they could differ for the more specific reasons of America’s foreign policy towards the continent, as in the case of South Africa. Nigeria appears to present a multi-layered case as some have described their Trumpism as being rooted in the pursuit of vengeance on the leadership.

For them, it is not simply his unfiltered commentary; it is the hawkish, acerbic stance he’s known to have taken towards African leaders and, indeed, practically all the international powers that the United States is in dalliance with. These individuals believe that having Trump as the president of the United States will force the Nigerian political elite to reconsider its commitments to national development, especially as the latter’s anti-immigration axe may befall Nigeria soonest. South Africa, on the other hand, mires its body language towards the West and international powers in old feelings of their roles in the apartheid struggle and their relationship with their country in the present day. It is for these exact reasons that despite Barack Obama’s African roots, his embodiment of American self-interested, domineering ideals in relation to Africa, in particular, left South Africans, who had anticipated his leadership, unimpressed. Having thus considered the likely state of the African mind towards Trump, the next line of inquiry is what his reentry into America’s presidential pantheon means for Africa. Unavoidably, this is a foreign policy conversation, and it is fitting to discuss it using the president’s records from his first term.

As always, when one thinks of Donald Trump’s first tenure in relation to Africa, the “shithole” comment and his anti-immigrant stance remain evergreen. These have painted him in unmistakable terms as unapologetically dismissive of the black continent and invested in seeking out parochial American objectives. Here, we find that the sheer international economic and political heft of the United States endows it with the luxury of acting punishingly towards other countries in the world and somewhat getting away with it in a manner that few, if any, other countries can boast of. This is observable in frameworks such as the Paris Agreement, which 196 world parties consider key to achieving a strategic pullback from the edge of the southward climatic spiral we are currently in. Despite the United States’ position as one of the largest polluters and, consequently, one of the countries whose reductions would have significant impacts, the Trump administration’s decision to withdraw from the agreement went through nonetheless.

The Biden administration rejoined it as one of the first-day actions of his office, to delight the global community and signpost the mega status of the United States. This is not comforting news. It implies near-omnipotence by a partner that leaves other parties little choice but to follow through. With Trump’s fondness for the transactional, African states may have so much, yet simultaneously have so little to offer, in his estimation. Yet, notorious as he was, some argue in favour of the Africa-focused policies launched during his tenure, with the Prosper Africa programme as a case in point. This initiative, involving 17 US agencies, was designed to facilitate trade and investment in African countries on a mutually cooperative basis. Prosper Africa followed precedents in the Obama and Bush administrations, which respectively had the ‘Power Africa’ and ‘President’s Emergency Plan for AIDS Relief (PEPFAR)’ programmes. Remarkably, it survived the end of Trump’s tenure and, so far, Joe Biden’s too. Prosper Africa was structured mainly with the intention of responding to Russian and Chinese inroads into the continent, the latter being a greater concern due to its Belt and Road Initiative. Yet, despite US criticism of China as inducing African states into what it described as a debt trap, Prosper Africa was noticeably lacking in financial scale and depth. Additionally, US trade was generally called out for its seeming preference for larger African economies, with trade partnerships negotiated on bilateral rather than multilateral bases. The effect is a selective US-Africa policy founded on opportunism, rather than genuine impacts.

Particularly, such developments also derogate from the spirit of the African Continental Free Trade Area, which aims to integrate the world’s least connected continent in terms of intra-trade. The first Donald Trump tenure is similarly faulted for its hawkish position on aid programmes to the continent, with PEPFAR being an outsized target. The administration’s line at the inception of the tenure was that aid funding had turned into a cash cow, with billions of dollars channelled into health funding siphoned by corrupt African governments. A report by the New York Times reviewing the contents of a document submitted by the Trump transition team to the State Department indicated barely concealed scepticism and condescension towards the role of the United States in Africa. There, the concerns of officials weren’t just isolated to wariness about the perceived suspect attitude of the African leadership in matters of aid, it extended openly to the purpose of the investment in the first place, when the continent is rife with numerous challenges of insecurity. Trump himself had at this point been credited with only a few remarks on the subject, but his perception of US involvement in countering the Ebola virus was telling enough.

Unsurprisingly, part of his efforts to reduce federal spending was a request to Congress to rescind the over $250 million set aside as excess from the US’ 2014 Ebola intervention for early response to a new outbreak. The rescission would have had scant impact on government spending and instead harmed America’s ability to nip the particular emergency to which the funds related in the bud before it worsened. Pertinent to consideration of this detail was the fact that US aid to individual countries, Israel, Afghanistan, and Iraq, in 2015 was nearly equal to the standard $8 billion issued to the entire continent in the same year, suggesting the dominant perception of Africa’s status in the eyes of American policy planners. The dissolution of the Global Health and Security Defence Directorate, an arm of the National Security Council essential to the US response to health emergencies, accompanied the action aimed at the Ebola funds. Although it was largely left intact, the African Growth and Opportunities Act, a framework under which 6,900 products from 39 countries of the continent were granted eligibility for duty-free access to the US market, equally came under threat. Rwanda was on the receiving end of this as it was suspended from its tariff-free access after it imposed duties on specific clothing. More importantly, however, there are fears that the vast majority of African states that are beneficiaries of this policy may now be left hanging if the president chooses not to renew it upon its expiration by 2025.

Trump 1.0 was notable for other things aside from his Africa trade policies. One of these was his position on security and immigration. In Nigeria, he is respected for having finally facilitated the release of the Super Tucano aircraft after the Obama administration had failed to do so. On immigration, his ban on Muslim entry into the United States affected some countries in Africa, including Nigeria, one of its heavyweights. The strange Nigerian paradox of admiration for a president who ignores them at worst and condescends in relation to them at the best of times aside, the decision to restrict immigration was seen by many as a veritable threat to US diplomacy in Africa. As it has now been the case in the last few decades, the sentiment is informed by the hegemonic theme of outmanoeuvring Russia and China. That, in essence, meant that policies that detracted from what should have been an important agenda only served Chinese and Russian purposes. The contradistinction between the United States’ posture during this period and the two countries’ lies in the latter’s tunnel vision in creating and maintaining interfaces with African governments. Authoritarian or not, Russia and China have shown vast appetites for propping up undesirable leadership.

Though Russia’s gambit is smaller in scale, its activities have raised concern because of the determined militaristic bent they have taken. The pariah state now seems to have a stake in the pie of sub-Saharan African countries fractured by coups and political instability. Its importance in West African politics ballooned when unmistakable Russian flags began to show up at protest or coup celebration sites. In Niger, Mali and Burkina Faso, the repudiation of French and American statuses as security partners saw a hovering Kremlin swoop in to seize the spoils — to no commendable domestic outcomes thus far. That notwithstanding, the eponymous renaming of the Wagner Group to ‘Africa Corps’ transmits crystal evidence that Russia intends to stay. And it intends to do so through sheer opportunism in the crises of these states and those of Libya and Sudan. Still, where Russia’s Africa strategy feels vulturous, China has committed to winning through cash. Its visibility is spread across the continents using state-run behemoths to facilitate infrastructural development and financial aid. It is also seizing the initiative to pour in a flood of investments into the continent, as the United States maintains a middling inflow. China is the largest provider of foreign direct investment to Africa, the largest lending source, the largest trading partner, and consequently, an undeniable force to reckon with diplomatically. America, in contrast, continues to see its relationship steeped in perfunctoriness.

After Trump became the first US president not to visit Africa since the Reagan years, Biden seems to be following suit with his approximately four-year stint of absenteeism in relationship-building visits to the continent. Additionally, while the Chinese have fostered a consistent and predictable medium of engagement with African partners through the Forum on China-Africa Cooperation, the United States has lagged severely in holding the door open for similar, broad opportunities for engagement. Its US-Africa Leaders Summit had only just been held for a second time in 2022 since its first outing in 2014. In choosing to pursue a fairly distant relationship, America concedes to its great power rivals a greater measure of control in the security and economic affairs of the continent. Because Africa is vital to its long-term policy of pushing back on Jihadist threats, allowing Russia and China to propagate the same factors that have historically driven regional instability defeats that goal. Worryingly, however, the precedents established by Donald Trump give little hope for change. If he pursues the same isolationist principles as before, he simultaneously risks estranging the continent and revving up the controversial diplomatic offers of China and Russia.

Yet, that thinking in itself may make matters worse. Seeing the US-Africa dynamic purely through the lenses of geopolitical counterweight risks derailing the genuineness and sustainability of any policies. The United States, under Trump or anybody at all, must be resolute about getting its skin in the game by committing, as China does, to futurism. It cannot respond to a Chinese military base with a new base of its own or scurry to buy back sympathy by lavishing attention on African states only when China does. It must first, and most importantly, be able to convince leaders that it has their interests at heart. In the long run, Africa cares about its growth and survival as any other nation does.

Neither its leaders, when they choose to be responsible, nor its people, wish to be pawns on the boards of geopolitical mammoths. As such, a lateral approach that promises a win-win is optimal. Indeed, there is a lot of room for the Trump team to exploit if they so please. The African diaspora is immense, with countries such as Nigeria possessing up to 400,000 citizens abroad. China is equally not innocent of open self-interest in fora such as FOCAC and its fairly liberal issuance of debt packages. By exploring people-centred, democratic alternatives through open agreements and conversations that balance the interests of both parties, the United States can assert itself in Africa. Most of this is bureaucratic grunt work. And it remains to be seen whether the powerful Republicans will do it.

Toyin Falola, a professor of History, University Distinguished Teaching Professor, and Jacob and Frances Sanger Mossiker Chair in the Humanities at The University of Texas at Austin, is the Bobapitan of Ibadanland.