Trump's African Summit was a master class at the Modern Colonial Theater | Donald Trump


On July 9, the president of the United States, Donald Trump, opened a three-day mini summit in the White House with the leaders of Gabon, Guinea-Bissau, Liberia, Mauritania and Senegal, subjecting their distinguished guests to a carefully staged public humiliation.

This was not the plan, or at least, not the part that the public should see.

A White House official said on July 3 that “President Trump believes that African countries offer incredible commercial opportunities that benefit both the US people and our African partners.”

Whether by coincidence or design calculated, the meeting took place on the same day that the Trump administration intensified its commercial war, slapping new rates to eight countries, including the nations of North Africa of Libya and Algeria. It was a revealing contrast: even when Trump claimed to be “strengthening ties with Africa,” his administration was penalizing African nations. The optics revealed the incoherence, or perhaps the honesty, of the Trump policy of Africa, where the association is often indistinguishable from the punishment.

Trump opened the summit with a four -minute speech in which he said that the five guest leaders represented the entire African continent. It does not matter that their countries are barely registered in the US commercial figures of Africa; What mattered was gold, oil and minerals buried under their ground. He thanked “these great leaders … all of very vibrant places with very valuable land, large minerals, large deposits of oil and wonderful people.”

Then he announced that the United States was “changing trade help” because “this will be much more effective, sustainable and beneficial than anything else we could be doing together.”

At that time, the illusion of diplomacy collapsed and the true nature of the meeting was revealed. Trump changed his statesman to Showman, he was not only the host, but stating control. The summit quickly descended to an inducting exhibition, where Africa did not appear as a continent of sovereign nations, but as a rich extension of resources, led by leaders who meet the cameras. This was not a dialogue, but a sample of domination: a production administered by the stage in which Trump wrote the scene and the African heads of state were chosen in subordinate roles.

Trump was in his element, orchestrating the event as a puppet teacher, ordering each African guest to play their role and respond favorably. He “invited” (indeed, he instructed them) to make “some comments to the media” in what became a choreographed deference sample.

President Mohamed Ghazouani of Mauritania led the way, both physically and symbolically, praising Trump's “commitment” with Africa. The statement was as misleading as surreal, given the recent Washington's help cuts, punitive tariffs and the most tight visa restrictions in African nations.

In a especially shameful moment, Ghazouani described Trump as the best peacemaker in the world, accrediting him, among other things, with stopping “the war between Iran and Israel.” This praise occurred without mentioning the continuous military and diplomatic support of the United States to the Israel War against Gaza, which the African Union has firmly condemned. Silence was equivalent to complicity, a calculated erase of Palestinian suffering by the favor of Americans.

Perhaps aware of the tariffs that are coming over his own country, Ghazouani, who served as an au president in 2024, slipped to the role of a supplier arranged. He almost invited Trump to exploit the rare minerals of Mauritania, praised him and declared him a peacemaker while ignoring the massacres of tens of thousands of innocents in Gaza made possible by the same weapons that Trump provides.

This tone would define the entire sitting. One by one, African leaders offered Trump bright praise and access to the natural resources of their countries, a disturbing reminder of the ease with which power can guide compliance.

The president of Senegal, Bassirou Diomaye Faye, even asked Trump to build a golf course in his country. Trump declined, opting to complement Faye's youth appearance. The president of Gabon, Brice Clotaire, Oligui Nguema, spoke of “winning associations” with the United States, but received only a warm answer.

What captured Trump's attention was the English fluidity of the president of Liberia, Joseph Boakai. Ignoring the content of Boakai's comments, Trump marveled at his English “beautiful” and asked: “Where did you learn to speak so beautifully? Where did they educated you? Where? In Liberia?”

The fact that Trump seemed that English was the official language of Liberia, and has been since its foundation in 1822 as a refuge for released American slaves, was perhaps less shocking than the colonial tone of his question. His astonishment that an African president could speak English well betrayed a deeply racist imperial mentality.

It was not an isolated slide. In a Peace Ceremony of the White House on June 29 that involved the RDC and Rwanda, Trump publicly commented on the appearance of the Angolaña and correspondent journalist of the White House Harioa Veras, saying: “You are beautiful, and you are beautiful inside.”

If you will see it is “beautiful” or not completely next to the case. Trump's behavior was inappropriate and unprofessional, reducing a respected journalist to his appearance amid a diplomatic milestone. The sexualization of black women, treating them as glasses of white male desire instead of the same intellectuals, was central to both the transatlantic slave trade and for European colonization. Trump's comment extended that legacy to the present.

Similarly, his surprise in the English of Boakai fits a long imperial pattern. Africans who “dominate” the language of the colonizer often do not look as multilingual and complex intellectuals, but as subordinates that have absorbed the dominant culture. They are rewarded by the proximity to whiteness, not by intellect or independence.

Trump's comments revealed their belief that articulated and visually attractive Africans are an anomaly, a novelty that deserves a momentary admiration. By reducing both Boakai and seeing aesthetic curiosities, he erased his agency, dismissed his achievements and satisfied his colonial ego.

More than anything, Trump's comments about Boakai reflected his deepest indifference to Africa. They crossed any illusion that this summit was a genuine association.

This contrast with the United States leaders to Africa held by President Joe Biden in December 2022. That event welcomed more than 40 African state leaders, as well as the leaders of the African Union, civil society and the private sector. He prioritized the dialogue between pairs and the 2063 Agenda of the UA, far from Trump's choreographer show.

The way in which the Trump administration concluded that five men could represent the entire continent remains disconcerting, unless, of course, this was not representation at all, but about control. Trump didn't want commitment; I wanted performance. And unfortunately, his guests were forced.

In contrast to the closely managed meeting, Trump celebrated with Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu on July 8, lunch with African leaders looked like a chaotic and deaf secondary show.

Faye was especially disappointing. He came to power by the back of an anti -imperialist platform, committing to break with neocolonial policy and restore African dignity. However, in the White House, he doubled the knee to the most shameless imperialist of all. Like others, he could not challenge Trump, to affirm equality or defend the sovereignty he walks publicly at home.

At a time when African leaders had the opportunity to go back against a resurgistic colonial mentality, they leaned down, giving Trump space to relive a fantasy of the western domain of the 16th century.

For this, he offered a reward: he could not impose new tariffs on his countries, he said: “Because now they are my friends.”

Trump, the “teacher,” triumphed.

All the Africans had to do was bow at their feet.

The opinions expressed in this article are typical of the author and do not necessarily reflect the editorial position of Al Jazeera.

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