China but in Africa

In 2006, China hosted the Forum on China-Africa Cooperation in Beijing, bringing leaders from 48 African nations to discuss what would later be called a "win-win partnership." President Hu Jintao announced $5 billion in preferential loans and credits for Africa, and Chinese investment across the continent surged in the following years¹. Fast forward to today, and China has become Africa's largest bilateral trading partner, with two-way trade exceeding $250 billion annually.

Most commentators see this as either an unambiguous economic blessing or a form of neo-colonial exploitation. Both narratives strike me as suspiciously convenient for their proponents. The reality, as is often the case with geopolitical phenomena, resists such clean categorization.

Consider the standard Western narrative: China preys on vulnerable African nations by extending loans they cannot repay, securing control of strategic assets through "debt-trap diplomacy." It's a compelling story that conveniently positions Western powers as concerned observers rather than competitors who've been outmaneuvered. But the data tells a more complex story.

The China Africa Research Initiative at Johns Hopkins University has documented over 800 Chinese loans to African governments between 2000 and 2020, worth approximately $153 billion. Contrary to popular belief, only a small percentage have resulted in asset seizures when countries defaulted². The infamous case of Hambantota Port in Sri Lanka—frequently cited as evidence of debt-trap diplomacy—remains more exception than rule. Yet the counter-narrative, enthusiastically promoted by Chinese state media, that China is simply a benevolent partner helping Africa develop through infrastructure investment, also fails scrutiny. The terms of Chinese loans often lack transparency. Many infrastructure projects employ primarily Chinese workers rather than local labor. And environmental standards for Chinese-backed projects frequently fall short of international norms.

What's happening isn't simple colonialism 2.0, but rather a new form of economic entanglement with distinctly different characteristics than European colonialism of the 19th century. Where European powers directly administered territories and extracted resources through force, China operates through economic leverage while maintaining a policy of "non-interference" in domestic politics. This creates a facade of equal partnership while obscuring very real power imbalances.

The relationship is best understood as a form of path dependency. Each individual agreement between China and an African nation might seem rational in isolation—trading resource access for infrastructure development—but the cumulative effect creates structures of dependency difficult to escape.

In Zambia, where Chinese firms control several copper mines, short-term economic gains have come at the cost of increasing economic dependency. When copper prices fall, as they did in 2015, Zambia has limited leverage to renegotiate terms with Chinese creditors. The power imbalance becomes most visible during economic downturns. This isn't to suggest that Africa would be better off without Chinese investment. The continent faces an infrastructure financing gap estimated at $68-108 billion annually³. Western institutions have historically attached stringent political conditions to their loans while failing to deliver on promised aid. The World Bank and IMF's structural adjustment programs of the 1980s and 1990s left many African nations worse off than before. China's approach—building roads, railways, and power plants with fewer political conditions—appears refreshingly pragmatic in comparison. The question isn't whether Africa needs investment (it does), but rather under what terms and to whose ultimate benefit.

What makes the China-Africa relationship particularly difficult to evaluate is that both parties operate with longer time horizons than Western political cycles typically allow. China's Belt and Road Initiative envisions decades of increasing economic integration. Some African leaders, particularly those in more authoritarian systems, similarly think in terms of development pathways extending beyond electoral cycles.

The more concerning aspect isn't the bilateral relationship itself, but the asymmetry of information and expertise that shapes negotiations. When Ghana negotiates with China over bauxite mining rights, which team comes better prepared? Which side can better model the long-term economic and environmental impacts? Which negotiators have more to personally gain from quick deals versus sustainable arrangements?

We should be skeptical of any framework that treats "Africa" as a monolith rather than 54 diverse nations with varying degrees of leverage, governance models, and natural resources. Ethiopia has secured better terms with Chinese investors than Sierra Leone has, partly because Ethiopia has greater strategic importance and a stronger central government.

The concept of "neo-colonialism" itself presents a conceptual hazard: it risks infantilizing African nations by denying their agency in these relationships. Rwanda's Paul Kagame articulated this frustration well: "Rwanda is not a victim of Chinese debt-trap politics. We know exactly what we signed up for." Treating African leaders as passive recipients of Chinese exploitation ignores their active participation in these arrangements.

Many of these leaders have leveraged China's interest to extract better terms from Western institutions or to play powers against each other. Djibouti hosts both Chinese and American military bases, collecting rent from both while maintaining sovereignty. This isn't passive victimhood—it's strategic balancing in a multipolar world.

What's often missing from discussions of China in Africa is acknowledgment of African citizens' perspectives. Afrobarometer surveys show that ordinary Africans hold complex views: they generally appreciate Chinese infrastructure development while expressing concerns about resource extraction and labor practices. These perspectives vary significantly by country and demographic.

The emergence of local resistance to Chinese projects in Zambia, Kenya, and elsewhere suggests that civil society will increasingly shape these relationships. When Kenyan environmentalists successfully challenged a Chinese-backed coal plant in Lamu through their court system, they demonstrated that African agency exists beyond presidential palaces.

Perhaps the most constructive approach is neither blanket condemnation nor uncritical acceptance of China's role, but rather focusing on enhancing transparency and governance. Initiatives like the Extractive Industries Transparency Initiative that require disclosure of contract terms can help citizens hold both their governments and Chinese partners accountable.

China's expanding economic presence in Africa represents neither salvation nor subjugation, but rather a complex reconfiguration of global economic relationships. The narrative of neo-colonialism provides a convenient framework that absolves Western powers of their historical responsibilities while oversimplifying the agency of African actors. The more nuanced reality requires moving beyond Cold War binaries toward recognizing a multipolar world where African nations must navigate competing interests.

The fundamental question isn't whether China is "colonizing" Africa, but rather how African nations can engage with all global powers—China, the US, EU, Russia, India, and others—from positions of greater strength and coordination. The challenge for the coming decades will be transforming relationships built on extraction and dependency into genuine partnerships based on mutually beneficial development.