What will the incoming Trump administration mean for U.S. foreign policy in sub-Saharan Africa? During his first term, Donald Trump derided so-called “shithole countries” on the continent and throughout the broader Global South. Yet his administration’s policies, particularly in sub-Saharan Africa, rarely matched his isolationist and xenophobic rhetoric, as seen in the construction of a drone base in Niger costing over $100 million.
However, today, with the rise of the jihadism crisis in the Sahel, the arrival of the Wagner Group and other foreign military contractors, and a wave of military juntas across the continent, a new Trump administration may have some radical ideas for Africa.
Through his first presidency and on the campaign trail in 2024, Trump exhibited skepticism about customary U.S. investment in partners and allies. For example, he criticized NATO countries for not paying enough and questioned the need to keep U.S. troops deployed in Germany and South Korea. He can be expected to apply this same approach to Africa in his second stint in office. This could entail a securitization-focused approach to Africa that relies on the U.S. military-industrial base, including drone sales, weapons and equipment, and contractors.
With several China hawks joining Trump’s cabinet, including Secretary of State Marco Rubio, his administration will continue to look at foreign policy through the zero-sum lens of great power competition. In Africa, this means strategic competition with China and Russia. Both Beijing and Moscow remain highly active on the continent, in addition to second-tier or middle powers such as Turkey, the United Arab Emirates, and Saudi Arabia.
These competitors have taken advantage of internal civil wars in Sudan and Somalia or growing jihadist threats in the Sahel to increase arms sales. The delivery of unmanned aerial systems, or drones, has led the way, while countries have also purchased equipment such as mine-resistant vehicles, missiles, and even satellites. These deals also provide a bridgehead for mining and resource-extraction deals, such as Turkey’s with Niger. An American approach focused on weapons and equipment sales would provide a cheap and clear signal of the administration’s commitment to transactional relationships abroad while maintaining support from domestic companies producing these systems within the United States.
The exact way in which the Trump administration will approach its interactions with junta regimes remains unclear. It would be unsurprising to see President Trump, with the support of a Republican congress, jettison the Section 7008 restrictions that prevent direct economic and military assistance, including training, from being provided to junta regimes. On numerous occasions, Trump has demonstrated an interest in aligning with autocrats such as Hungary’s Victor Orban, so it wouldn’t be a stretch for him to favor aligning with African junta leaders. The administration could either withdraw these restrictions entirely or circumvent them by placing Sahelian leaders into the same category as Egypt’s government—a regime that came to power through a coup, though one that the United States has avoided labeling as such.
Still, such an approach could run counter to Trump’s other priorities, particularly the president-elect’s commitment to isolationism, demonstrating the internal contradictions within the nascent foreign policy of Trump 2.0. Trump has also highlighted the importance of transactional relationships, which would argue against the extension of aid to some junta states. Peter Pham, who was a special envoy to the African Great Lakes during Trump’s first term and may receive an appointment in his second, noted that “there was a higher chance assistance would be cut off if a country was perceived to be acting against U.S. interests. ‘We have to be more intentional about that, and that means capable partners and accountability.’” Thus, junta regimes that have potentially aligned themselves with Russia, or ones that might align with China in the future, may be removed from potential aid programs. Given this confluence of factors, it’s hard to determine how the new administration will handle America’s delicate relationships with Africa’s crop of junta governments, but there could be a return to a more realpolitik approach than was the case during the Biden administration. On its face, this is not necessarily a bad thing, although it could raise concerns within the U.S. State Department and among human rights groups and civil society organizations.
One approach, with significant implications, could be to mimic the Wagner Group’s role as a security-assistance provider. Such an approach would essentially look like Wagner-lite, the reintroduction of Blackwater-type organizations in a more offensive role. In this scenario, the Trump administration would give mercenary organizations the legal right to operate in offensive roles abroad. While this would be a first for the United States, other Western countries have funded offensive mercenary activities in Africa in the past. French and British mercenaries fought in Cote d’Ivoire in 2003, including as helicopter pilots. UK-based Aegis Defence Services allegedly employed child soldiers from Sierra Leone as mercenaries in Iraq during the 2010s. Trump is no stranger to mercenary organizations. During his last administration, he pardoned four Blackwater contractors who shot into a crowd in Iraq in 2007. Trump also has close connections with former Blackwater CEO Erik Prince, who has led a variety of mercenary operations.
A mercenary-led approach in Africa could satisfy the administration’s need for transactional policy, particularly if mercenary activities followed the Wagner Group model of exchanging security for resource extraction agreements. Further, these activities could fulfill other U.S. policy goals, including countering terrorism and great power competition. It would also go hand-in-hand with increased weapons sales, particularly as contractors might be needed to train local military on new systems, operate drones, etc. However, this type of activity could leave companies, let alone the administration, open to blowback if civilians, etc, are attacked, as Wagner has done in Mali, Central African Republic, and elsewhere.
The Trump administration may take a different approach to the battle for control of rare earth elements, particularly in the Democratic Republic of Congo, or DRC, against China. Critical earth minerals such as cobalt and lithium are essential for both green technologies and the microprocessors that power batteries from cars to cell phones. Despite President Trump’s distaste for green energy, he will need to compete in this sector to prevent the United States from falling further behind China in its access to these materials. The Biden administration’s Lobito Corridor is a jumping-off point, a deal with Angola to create a pipeline for minerals from DRC and Zambia to flow to Angola’s Atlantic ports. However, the Trump administration could provide diplomatic and military muscle to back U.S. companies in DRC, many of whom have been discouraged by the difficult operating environment in the country.
This approach could reflect broader Trump policies that involve competition with China and could provide a key resource in case of a trade war with China. However, increased U.S. involvement in DRC could inflame local tensions by undermining the fragile balance of power in the region. Eastern DRC already has weapons and foreign militaries pouring in, including Rwandans, Burundians, and a variety of international mercenary companies. American money, to say nothing of potential mercenary support, could further inflame local tensions among various parties interested in protecting their profitable fiefdoms. Whether the Trump administration cares about the international consequences rather than America’s bottom line in the latest scramble for natural resources appears to be a question easily answered.
The United States might also find itself more active diplomatically in regional disputes, such as the ongoing struggle over Somaliland, which is a former British protectorate along the southern coast of the Gulf of Aden and bordered by Ethiopia to its south and west. The territory seceded from Somalia in 1991 but remains unrecognized as an independent state. A lucrative and geopolitically advantageous port deal between Somaliland, backed by Ethiopia and UAE, put it at odds with Mogadishu and its backers, Egypt and Türkiye.
If the Trump administration does decide to exert Washington’s influence more forcefully on the continent, in an effort to engage in more robust strategic competition with Beijing and Moscow, it could find itself working through regional disputes and picking sides based on which configurations present the United States with the most advantageous arrangement toward its adversaries and competitors.
Colin P. Clarke, Ph.D., is the director of research at The Soufan Group and a senior research fellow at The Soufan Center.
Raphael Parens is a 2024 Templeton Fellow in the Foreign Policy Research Institute’s Eurasia Program. He is an international security researcher focused on Europe, the Middle East, and Africa. Parens specializes in small armed groups and NATO modernization processes.
