When Dmitry Medvedev, former Russian president and current deputy chair of Russia’s Security Council, addressed the Liberation Movements Summit in South Africa on July 27, his message was as predictable as it was provocative: Russia stands with Africa in the fight against neocolonialism and envisions a multipolar world. Coming from a Kremlin official, this claim may appear noble at first glance— until one examines the underlying logic, the historical baggage, and the realpolitik shaping Moscow’s African charm offensive.
The summit brought together ruling parties with anti-colonial roots— South Africa’s ANC, Zimbabwe’s ZANU-PF, Mozambique’s FRELIMO, Namibia’s SWAPO, and Tanzania’s CCM. These are parties with storied pasts, forged in the fires of liberation wars, many of which were backed by Soviet arms and ideology during the Cold War. Medvedev’s remarks framed these parties as guardians of sovereignty and developmental progress, touting their legitimacy not only in history but in the future of global pluralism.
But historical memory and contemporary alliances often diverge.
There is no denying that Russia’s growing footprint in Africa taps into a deep well of postcolonial disillusionment. For many African nations, political independence did not translate into economic sovereignty. Decades after European withdrawal, Western corporations still dominate resource extraction, and the Bretton Woods institutions often seem more like gatekeepers than partners. The result has been a lingering sense that colonialism never truly ended— it just evolved.
Russia, keen to reassert itself globally in the face of Western sanctions and isolation following its invasion of Ukraine, has cleverly tapped into this sentiment. Medvedev’s appeal was laced with references to “ideologues of neocolonialism” and “equal partnerships.” Foreign Minister Sergey Lavrov has echoed similar lines, accusing the West of economic exploitation. Such rhetoric has struck a chord with leaders disenchanted with the asymmetries of the Western-led order.
And yet, to accept Russia as a liberating force in Africa demands a suspension of disbelief.
Russia is using history and ideology to position itself as a partner of choice for a continent still scarred by colonialism. But rhetoric alone is not redemption. Africa’s liberation movements, now ruling parties, must decide whether Russia offers merely a new suitor— or a new path. The answer will determine whether multi-polarity becomes a means of empowerment, or just another version of dependency cloaked in new colours.
If neocolonialism is defined as the economic dominion of sovereign nations under the guise of cooperation, then Russia’s actions warrant scrutiny as much as those of the West. Moscow’s military ties in Africa are expanding rapidly— Wagner mercenaries in the Central African Republic and Mali, arms deals across the continent, and intelligence-sharing agreements with autocratic regimes. These arrangements often lack transparency and accountability. Russian partnerships, while devoid of the moral posturing typical of Western democracies, are far from altruistic.
The idea of a multipolar world (an appealing concept to postcolonial states) is increasingly used as a diplomatic euphemism for alignment with non-Western power centres. Yet the benefits of such partnerships remain uneven. In Mali and Burkina Faso, Russian support has coincided with growing repression and shrinking civic space. While the Kremlin promises “respect for sovereignty,” it often gravitates toward regimes that muzzle opposition and rely on coercion, not consent.
This isn’t to say that African countries are mere pawns in a great power game. Quite the contrary— they are navigating a world of constrained choices, reshaping their foreign policy around a strategic mix of Chinese investment, Russian arms, Gulf state capital, and Western aid. The shift is less ideological than pragmatic. Leaders want roads, power plants, and trade— regardless of whether it comes with liberal sermons or Kremlin silence.
Still, there is an undeniable symbolism to the Liberation Movements Summit. It reflects a continent increasingly confident in its agency, willing to rewrite the rules of engagement with former colonial powers and emerging ones alike. Gwen Ramokgopa of South Africa’s ANC put it succinctly: political liberation is not enough. Economic emancipation is now the goal.
But how does one achieve that without repeating the mistakes of the past? Aligning with Russia may help loosen Western conditionalities, but it won’t solve Africa’s structural problems: underdeveloped infrastructure, poor education systems, and endemic corruption. Russian trade and military cooperation are not substitutes for institutional reform or industrial diversification.
History offers sobering lessons. The Cold War-era alliances between the USSR and African liberation movements were driven more by ideological rivalry than genuine development. While Soviet aid helped win independence, it rarely built enduring economic capacity. The collapse of the USSR left many of its African allies adrift, exposing the fragility of partnerships built more on geopolitics than on shared prosperity.
Today’s Russia is not yesterday’s USSR, but its motivations are just as strategic. Facing economic sanctions, international isolation, and battlefield challenges in Ukraine, Moscow needs Africa— not only for diplomatic support at the United Nations, but also for alternative markets, arms deals, and mineral access. In that light, Medvedev’s speech reads less like an ode to African empowerment and more like a realpolitik manoeuvre to secure influence in a shifting global landscape.
Even so, the West would be foolish to dismiss Russia’s overtures. The language of anti-imperialism carries weight in postcolonial societies. Decades of moralistic diplomacy— often undermined by military interventions, unfair trade terms, and migration hypocrisy— have tarnished the West’s image in Africa. When Western leaders preach human rights while ignoring the economic realities imposed by their own corporations, they create a credibility vacuum that rivals are eager to fill.
The challenge for the West is not merely to counter Russia’s narrative, but to offer a better one. That means shifting from extractive economic relations to genuine partnerships— investing in African value chains, supporting debt restructuring, and engaging African civil societies rather than just their rulers.
For Africa, the future lies not in choosing between East and West, but in mastering the art of strategic non-alignment— leveraging multiple partnerships to advance domestic development goals. Multi-polarity, if truly rooted in mutual respect and economic inclusion, can serve that purpose. But if it becomes a euphemism for siding with authoritarian benefactors against liberal hypocrites, it will fail the very people it claims to empower.
Medvedev’s address reflects a broader geopolitical recalibration. Russia is using history and ideology to position itself as a partner of choice for a continent still scarred by colonialism. But rhetoric alone is not redemption. Africa’s liberation movements, now ruling parties, must decide whether Russia offers merely a new suitor— or a new path. The answer will determine whether multi-polarity becomes a means of empowerment, or just another version of dependency cloaked in new colours.
