DONALD Trump has never been one to follow diplomatic convention — and his strategy for Africa is no exception. According to Politico Magazine, the US president is fundamentally reshaping Washington’s relationship with Africa, tossing out the traditional development-first model in favour of a cold, calculated focus on deal-making and strategic advantage.
Embassies are closing. USAID is being dismantled. Programmes to combat AIDS, support education, and build civic institutions are being gutted. Military operations are also being scaled back. At the same time, African governments are being asked to pay up — not necessarily in cash, but through mineral rights, political concessions, and favourable trade terms.
The shift is jarring. Yet within Trump’s inner circle, it is hailed as a long-overdue correction. For decades, they argue, the US lavished billions on African development with little in return. Now, Trump is putting his stamp on the continent: no more charity, no more vague partnerships — only transactions with clear value for America.
A full-scale aid retreat — and a message to Africa
Trump’s dismantling of USAID — once the flagship of US development diplomacy — is symbolic of a much broader retreat. The remaining functions of the agency are being folded into the State Department, effectively ending an era where development goals often guided foreign policy in Africa.
The move has triggered alarm across both humanitarian and diplomatic circles. Aid groups warn that lives are already being lost as HIV/AIDS treatments are scaled back and funding for food security, girls’ education, and clean water is withdrawn.
Yet the Trump team sees this not as a retreat but a reset. In their view, Africa’s 54 countries should be building their own systems, not relying on US generosity. ‘This is an investment,’ one official told Politico. ‘We’re not going to keep paying for 40 years for you to have your health care.’
Emergency humanitarian aid will continue — but only in limited cases, and always with sunset clauses. The goal is to shift the continent toward self-reliance, but critics warn that the cuts may do the opposite: increasing instability and dependence on less scrupulous partners.
‘Pay to play’: a transactional turn
Trump’s Africa policy is unapologetically transactional. If African governments want a relationship with Washington — let alone development support — they must offer something tangible in return.
The Democratic Republic of Congo, for example, is said to be offering US access to critical minerals in exchange for military support against rebel groups. Angola hopes to keep US interest in its Lobito Corridor rail project, which could serve as a corridor for American mineral extraction. Somalia has reportedly agreed to grant the US operational control of certain ports.
Elsewhere, Togo is seeking favour based on its quiet mediation in African conflicts, while Ethiopia and Kenya remain on Washington’s radar due to their regional influence. Nigeria, as Africa’s largest economy and energy powerhouse, is also unlikely to fall out of Washington’s sights.
But for smaller or less strategically useful nations, the outlook is bleak. Without significant natural resources, military value, or diplomatic weight, they may find themselves frozen out.
Personal networks and policy shaping
There is also a deeply personal dimension to Trump’s Africa policy. Massad Boulos, father-in-law to Trump’s daughter Tiffany, has reportedly taken on a quasi-official role in shaping US-African deals, particularly those involving minerals and logistics in the DRC and elsewhere.
The blending of family ties with foreign policy has fuelled concerns of cronyism. But within Trump’s camp, this is seen as efficient — using trusted allies to pursue American interests without the baggage of bureaucracy.
‘Trump doesn’t trust the traditional foreign policy establishment,’ one observer noted. ‘He wants people who think like him — and that means looking at Africa through the lens of deals, not diplomacy.’
South Africa frozen out over foreign policy
One African country feeling the cold shoulder more than most is South Africa. Long seen as a regional leader and a partner in peacekeeping and diplomacy, it has clashed repeatedly with Trump’s White House.
The administration is reportedly incensed by Pretoria’s foreign policy — especially its vocal criticism of Israel. It has accused South Africa of persecuting white Afrikaners and responded by expelling its ambassador to Washington. The US has also floated a refugee scheme specifically for white South Africans — a controversial proposal widely condemned in Pretoria.
South African officials argue that the Trump administration is misrepresenting their policies and internal dynamics. But without strong influence in Washington — and facing a diplomatic corps weakened by budget constraints — their objections have had limited impact.
African diplomacy struggles in Washington
For many African diplomats in the US capital, Trump’s overhaul has created a sense of disorientation. Embassies from sub-Saharan Africa — often operating on tight budgets — are finding themselves shut out of key conversations. With many senior Africa-related roles in the Trump administration still vacant, there is no clear channel of communication.
As Politico reported, lobbyists have begun offering their services to embassies desperate to gain access to White House officials. But most lack the funds to hire such intermediaries.
‘It’s chaotic,’ said one diplomat. ‘We’re being approached by people who say they can get us meetings — but they want $10,000 a month. That’s half our annual budget.’
This confusion is compounded by Trump’s disdain for multilateral bodies. The African Union, once seen as a vital platform for US-African engagement, is now largely bypassed. The White House prefers bilateral deals, negotiated directly with heads of state — reinforcing Trump’s broader rejection of global institutions.
Congressional concerns and China’s opportunity
Not all in Washington are on board with Trump’s approach. Democratic lawmakers, in particular, argue that the administration has acted recklessly by dismantling USAID and slashing aid without congressional oversight.
Senator Chris Coons, a Democrat from Delaware, warned that the new approach is handing strategic opportunities to China. ‘We’ve just given them the best possible opening to expand their influence in the fastest-growing part of the world,’ he said.
China’s model — characterised by large infrastructure loans and few political strings — is appealing to many African leaders. And while Beijing’s aid is often criticised as exploitative, it fills the vacuum left by Washington’s retreat.
Trump officials, however, downplay the China threat. They argue that China’s economy is faltering and that its foreign aid is less generous than it appears. Some aides even accuse the ‘aid industry’ of inflating the China narrative to protect its own funding.
‘That’s a fing myth they tell to sell the fing aid,’ one official told Politico, in a quote emblematic of the administration’s brash tone.
Human cost: lives and programmes at risk
One of the most immediate and tragic consequences of the Trump pivot is the erosion of PEPFAR — the George W. Bush-era initiative that has saved millions of lives across Africa through HIV/AIDS treatment. Cuts to the programme have already led to shortages of life-saving drugs, according to aid workers.
But in Trump’s orbit, such stories are dismissed as outdated arguments. The administration believes that after two decades, PEPFAR’s ‘emergency’ has expired. Going forward, it wants African governments to fund their own health systems.
Other areas are suffering too. Education initiatives, women’s rights programmes, and pro-democracy efforts are all being trimmed or eliminated. Civil society groups across the continent report losing grants, partnerships and technical support.
Strategic confusion and future flashpoints
Despite its bold rhetoric, Trump’s Africa policy remains a work in progress. Some aid programmes continue quietly. Others are under review. And there is little clarity on how the US plans to respond if security crises — such as terrorism or mass displacement — escalate.
The lack of a coherent structure has left even seasoned diplomats puzzled. Some carve-outs seem arbitrary. Others are driven by personal relationships or headline-driven reactions rather than strategy.
‘It feels like the rules are being made up as they go,’ one former State Department official told Politico.
A new doctrine or a dangerous vacuum?
Trump’s vision for Africa is starkly different from anything the US has tried before. It is rooted in nationalism, cost-cutting, and hard-nosed deal-making. Whether it becomes a lasting doctrine or a temporary aberration depends on what comes next — both in Washington and across Africa.
What’s clear is that the old playbook — grounded in development, diplomacy and multilateralism — has been tossed aside. In its place is a paradigm that treats Africa not as a partner in need, but as a potential deal partner with something to offer.
‘It’s going to be a fundamental change,’ said Tibor Nagy, Trump’s former Assistant Secretary of State for Africa. ‘And the African countries are going to figure out that the new relationship is much healthier for their societies. Maybe not for the elites, but definitely for the young people that are desperate for jobs.’
That, ultimately, is the Trump bet: that tough love will force transformation. Whether it creates a stronger Africa — or drives it further into crisis — remains the continent’s next big question.