France’s African Problem Is Not Russia. It Is the Refusal to Let Africa Choose

Paris is threatening sanctions over alleged Russian influence operations in Cameroon and the Republic of the Congo, but its outrage raises a more fundamental question: why does France continue to treat the preservation of its African influence as a strategic entitlement?

France’s Foreign Minister, Jean-Noël Barrot, has announced that Paris will seek European Union sanctions against those responsible for alleged Russian influence operations targeting African countries, particularly Cameroon and the Republic of the Congo. In his statement of 27 October, Barrot accused Russia of manipulating public opinion in sovereign states to undermine French interests, presenting Moscow’s activities as an attempt to colonise African minds. The language is striking because it comes from a country whose relationship with Africa remains burdened by the history and continuing consequences of colonial rule. France is entitled to investigate credible evidence of foreign interference, and African countries are entitled to protection against covert manipulation by any outside power. But Paris cannot expect Africans to accept its definition of sovereignty as universal when its own diplomatic posture so often appears to place French strategic interests at the centre of African political choices.

The first question is straightforward: why does France still regard its influence in Africa as something that must be defended against competitors? African countries are sovereign states, not extensions of French foreign policy, and their governments and citizens have the right to determine their diplomatic, economic and security relationships. If an African government wishes to work with Russia, China, the United States, Turkey or another partner, that choice should be judged by its consequences for the country concerned rather than by the discomfort it causes in Paris. Foreign partnerships can certainly create new dependencies, unfair contracts, security abuses or exploitative arrangements, and none should escape scrutiny merely because they challenge Western power. But the appropriate response is to examine the terms of each relationship, not to presume that African political opinion has been manipulated whenever it turns against France. The insistence that Russian influence is a threat to French interests reveals the central contradiction: whose interests are being protected, and who has authorised France to speak as their guardian?

The language of colonisation becomes even more uncomfortable when used by a former colonial power to describe the activities of a geopolitical rival. Russia may be pursuing its own strategic interests, and allegations of covert influence operations deserve transparent investigation, but France cannot erase its own history simply by presenting itself as the defender of African sovereignty. For generations, French power across parts of Africa was sustained through unequal political relationships, military arrangements, economic influence and networks that gave Paris a privileged position in the affairs of formally independent states. Those structures have evolved, and African countries have followed different paths, but the political consequences of that history have not disappeared. When African publics challenge French military deployments, diplomatic influence or perceived support for entrenched political elites, their opposition cannot automatically be dismissed as foreign propaganda. Sometimes people reject a foreign power because they have concluded, rightly or wrongly, that its presence does not serve their interests.

Cameroon provides an especially revealing case. Paul Biya has governed the country since 1982, making his long tenure one of the defining features of Cameroon’s political system. France has maintained an important relationship with the Cameroonian state throughout that period, even as questions about political competition, democratic accountability and the concentration of power have persisted. It would be irresponsible to claim, without specific evidence, that Paris directly controls Biya or determines every decision made by his government. Yet it is entirely legitimate to ask what France has done with its diplomatic leverage, what principles have guided its engagement with a government led by the same president for more than four decades, and whether democratic accountability receives the same urgency as the defence of French strategic interests. If Paris is concerned about the manipulation of African public opinion, it should also be willing to examine why distrust of France has taken root and why its relationships with established political elites so often attract public suspicion.

There is a profound difference between respecting African sovereignty and demanding that African governments remain within a geopolitical orbit preferred by Paris. Sovereignty means the freedom to make choices, including choices that France dislikes, provided those choices are not used to violate the rights of citizens or the sovereignty of other states. It cannot mean that African governments are free only when they cooperate with France, or that African citizens are politically independent only when their opinions align with French diplomatic preferences. Nor can the protection of democracy be reduced to defending a favourable balance of international influence while avoiding difficult questions about long-standing political relationships. If France believes its engagement offers African countries better economic opportunities, more accountable institutions and stronger security partnerships, it should demonstrate those benefits through transparent agreements and mutually agreed cooperation. It should not expect historical connections or inherited privilege to guarantee continued influence.

This is not an argument that Russia should be trusted, that Russian influence operations should be ignored or that every anti-French sentiment reflects an accurate understanding of international politics. Moscow has its own interests, and African governments should scrutinise Russian security partnerships, information campaigns and commercial arrangements with the same rigour they apply to France, China, the United States and every other external power. The relevant question is whether African societies have access to reliable information and the freedom to debate their options without coercion, covert manipulation or political intimidation. If France possesses credible evidence of Russian interference, it should publish that evidence, explain the methods used and allow independent scrutiny of its conclusions. Sanctions should be based on demonstrable conduct and clear legal standards, not on the assumption that any campaign challenging French influence must have been directed by Moscow. African citizens deserve evidence, not a diplomatic contest in which rival powers compete to define what Africans are allowed to believe.

France also needs to confront the possibility that its influence is declining because African political preferences are changing, rather than because another country has simply deceived African populations. Across the continent, younger generations are questioning inherited arrangements, demanding more accountable government and rejecting the assumption that security and development require deference to former colonial powers. Some governments have sought new military or commercial partners after disputes with France, while others continue to maintain substantial relationships with Paris. These choices differ by country and should not be collapsed into one continental position, but they demonstrate that Africa is not a single geopolitical constituency waiting to be claimed by an outside power. Russia's growing visibility may form part of this changing landscape, but the existence of competition does not prove that African agency is fraudulent. France should be asking what its own conduct has done to strengthen or weaken the credibility of its partnerships.

The deeper issue is that Africa must not be forced to choose between competing external powers as though independence were a prize that France or Russia could grant. African states need the freedom to diversify partnerships, negotiate better terms, reject unfavourable arrangements and demand accountability from every government or company operating within their jurisdictions. That requires stronger institutions at home, greater transparency in international agreements and public scrutiny of both Western and non-Western partners. It also requires former colonial powers to accept that genuine independence includes the right of African societies to disagree with them, replace old partnerships and pursue new ones. France cannot demand respect for its sovereignty in Europe while treating the strategic choices of African countries as an issue for European sanctions whenever those choices threaten French interests.

Barrot's intervention therefore presents Paris with a choice of its own. France can continue to interpret the erosion of its influence primarily as a foreign operation to be punished, or it can acknowledge that African sovereignty means more than the absence of Russian interference. It means the absence of an entitlement for any foreign power to dictate the continent's political direction. If France has a valuable offer for Cameroon and the rest of Africa, it should make that offer on terms that respect local priorities, democratic accountability and mutual benefit. If its relationships are fair and genuinely welcomed, they should be able to withstand competition and public scrutiny. Africa does not need a new patron to replace an old one, and it has no obligation to preserve France's position simply because Paris once held it. The continent's future must be decided by Africans, not by a contest between foreign capitals over who gets to shape their choices.