Emmanuel Macron

“Is not this the fast that I choose: to loose the bonds of wickedness, to undo the straps of the yoke, to let the oppressed go free, and to break every yoke?” Isaiah 58:6

History has a strange way of changing clothes while keeping the same intentions. It rarely returns wearing the exact same face. Empires learn from their failures. They study resistance. They soften their language. They replace military occupation with diplomatic partnership, direct theft with trade agreements, chains with debt, and colonial governors with smiling presidents shaking hands before cameras. Yet beneath the polished speeches and carefully prepared state visits, old desires often remain alive. Power still wants control. Wealth still seeks extraction. Strong nations still look at weak nations and imagine opportunity.

Africa knows this history too well.

The nineteenth and early twentieth centuries witnessed what historians called the Scramble for Africa. European powers divided the continent among themselves with astonishing arrogance. Maps were drawn in European conference rooms while African communities, kingdoms, and cultures were treated as invisible. Land was partitioned like property. Human beings became labor. Resources became trophies. Entire nations were shaped to serve foreign interests. Colonialism was not charity. It was organized exploitation dressed in the language of civilization.

France became one of the major powers in this colonial enterprise. From West Africa to Central Africa, France established deep political, economic, and military influence. The French empire extended over vast territories. Even after the formal end of colonial rule, France did not fully release its grip. Independence ceremonies came, flags changed, anthems changed, African presidents took office, but many structures of dependence remained intact. The empire simply evolved into a more sophisticated system.

Today, the language is different. No one openly speaks about colonizing Africa anymore. The world has become too conscious for that kind of honesty. Instead, words like cooperation, partnership, security, development, and investment dominate diplomatic conversations. Yet many Africans increasingly sense that the spirit of colonial control never truly disappeared. It merely adapted.

This is why conversations about a “new scramble for Africa” continue to grow louder across the continent.

The recent presence of French President Emmanuel Macron in countries such as Kenya and South Africa has revived these discussions. France presents these visits as efforts to strengthen cooperation, promote mutual investment, and build renewed friendships with African nations. Yet suspicion follows Macron wherever he goes in Africa because France carries a heavy historical memory on the continent. For many Africans, French diplomacy cannot be separated from the long shadow of colonialism.

The Sahel region reveals this tension most clearly.

Countries such as Mali, Burkina Faso, and Niger have increasingly rejected French influence in recent years. French troops have been expelled. Military agreements have been canceled. Public demonstrations have openly condemned France. Young Africans wave signs demanding sovereignty and freedom from foreign interference. What was once hidden frustration has now become public anger.

The rejection is not only military. It is economic and psychological.

Many Africans are questioning why former colonies continue to remain tied to systems that seem to benefit France more than Africa itself. The CFA franc, for example, has become a symbol of this debate. Critics argue that it represents a lingering colonial structure that limits true financial independence for several African states. To many citizens, the issue is larger than currency. It is about dignity. It is about ownership. It is about whether African nations can truly determine their futures without external guardians.

France insists that its role in Africa is misunderstood. French officials often argue that they are helping to stabilize regions threatened by terrorism, extremism, and political instability. Certainly, security concerns in the Sahel are real. Armed groups have caused immense suffering. Communities have been displaced. Violence has spread across borders. Yet many Africans ask difficult questions. If decades of foreign military presence have not brought lasting peace, what exactly has been achieved? Why do insecurity and dependency continue side by side?

This frustration exposes a painful truth about modern geopolitics. Powerful nations rarely operate from pure generosity. Interests drive policy. Access to minerals matters. Strategic alliances matter. Trade routes matter. Political influence matters. Africa possesses enormous resources that the world still desires deeply. Uranium, gold, oil, cobalt, lithium, rare earth minerals, fertile land, and youthful populations make the continent strategically important in the twenty-first century. The world’s attention toward Africa is not accidental.

The competition has simply become more subtle.

In the old colonial era, soldiers arrived with guns and flags. Today influence arrives through multinational corporations, development loans, military partnerships, infrastructure projects, telecommunications investments, and political agreements. The methods are cleaner. The language is softer. But the imbalance of power often remains.

This brings us back to 1944.

During the Second World War, France faced crisis and uncertainty. General Charles de Gaulle summoned representatives from French African colonies to the Brazzaville Conference. France was weakened by war and occupation. The empire had become essential for French survival. African colonies provided soldiers, labor, raw materials, and economic support. France needed Africa.

Yet the conference revealed the contradictions of empire. France acknowledged the importance of African colonies while refusing to imagine genuine equality or full independence. Reforms were discussed, but true freedom remained distant. Colonialism adjusted itself to survive.

That moment matters because it exposed something enduring about the relationship between Europe and Africa. Colonial powers often speak of partnership when they are vulnerable, but the structures they create continue to prioritize their own survival and prosperity.

Even now, many African intellectuals and activists argue that the relationship between France and parts of Africa still reflects this logic. France may no longer govern colonies directly, but it still seeks influence through economics, defense agreements, language, education, and diplomacy. The methods are not as blatant as they were in the 1900s, yet the goals sometimes appear strikingly familiar.

Macron himself represents a fascinating contradiction. He often speaks the language of reform and reconciliation. He has acknowledged aspects of France’s colonial violence. He presents himself as part of a new generation willing to rethink France’s relationship with Africa. Yet many Africans remain unconvinced because symbolic gestures do not automatically dismantle entrenched systems.

Trust cannot be rebuilt through speeches alone.

African youth especially are becoming increasingly vocal. Social media has transformed political awareness across the continent. Young Africans compare histories, question narratives, and challenge external influence with unprecedented boldness. They are less willing to accept the paternal language that once dominated international relations. They want sovereignty, not supervision. They want partnership without domination.

This growing resistance explains why France’s position in Africa appears increasingly fragile. The loss of influence in the Sahel is not merely a diplomatic setback. It reflects a deeper historical reckoning. The generation now rising across Africa carries different expectations from previous generations. They are asking whether political independence without economic independence is truly freedom.

The question extends beyond France alone.

The new scramble for Africa involves multiple global powers. China has expanded its influence through infrastructure projects and loans. Russia has pursued military partnerships and security agreements in several African nations. The United States continues to compete for strategic influence. Gulf states, Turkey, and European nations are also deeply involved. Africa has once again become a geopolitical arena where global powers pursue interests.

The danger is that African nations may once again become objects in international competition rather than subjects of their own destiny.

Yet Africa today is not the Africa of the colonial era.

There is greater political awareness. There are stronger regional institutions. There are educated youth populations capable of challenging old systems. African voices increasingly shape global conversations. The continent is not powerless. But internal challenges remain significant. Corruption, weak institutions, political instability, ethnic tensions, and poor governance often create openings for external manipulation. Foreign influence succeeds most easily where local systems are fragile.

This is why the conversation about neocolonialism cannot only blame outsiders. African leadership also bears responsibility. Some leaders sustain dependency because it protects their own power. Others sign exploitative agreements that enrich elites while ordinary citizens remain poor. Colonialism wounded Africa deeply, but postcolonial leadership has sometimes deepened those wounds rather than healing them.

The church must also confront its role honestly.

Christianity in Africa has a complicated relationship with colonial history. Missionaries brought education, healthcare, and the gospel, yet missionary work often traveled alongside imperial expansion. In some cases, the cross and the colonial flag arrived together. Churches sometimes became silent witnesses to exploitation. At other times, courageous Christians resisted oppression and defended human dignity.

Today African Christianity stands at an important crossroads. The church cannot merely preach spiritual salvation while ignoring systems of economic injustice and political domination. Isaiah’s words remind believers that God cares about yokes being broken. Faith cannot be separated from justice. A gospel that ignores exploitation becomes hollow.

African churches must help cultivate critical consciousness. They must teach people to discern between genuine partnership and disguised exploitation. They must encourage ethical leadership, accountability, and dignity. They must resist the temptation to become instruments of political propaganda or foreign manipulation.

At the same time, Africa must avoid replacing one dependency with another. Rejecting French influence only to become dependent on another global power does not create liberation. True sovereignty requires internal strength. It requires economic creativity, educational investment, regional cooperation, and political maturity.

The tragedy of Africa has never been lack of potential. The continent possesses extraordinary human and natural wealth. The tragedy has often been the systems surrounding that wealth. Colonialism extracted. Corruption consumed. Foreign interests competed. Ordinary people suffered.

Yet there is something hopeful emerging in the current resistance across parts of Africa. It reflects a growing refusal to remain silent. It signals populations that are beginning to ask harder questions about history, economics, and power. Even if the path forward remains uncertain, the willingness to challenge inherited systems matters deeply.

Macron’s visits to African nations therefore symbolize more than diplomacy. They reveal a continent negotiating its future identity. France wants continued relevance in Africa. African nations want respect and sovereignty. These two desires increasingly collide.

France fears losing strategic influence. African citizens fear continued dependency.

The emotional dimension of this conflict should not be underestimated. Colonialism was not merely political occupation. It affected memory, identity, language, culture, and dignity. Even decades after independence, the psychological wounds remain visible. Many Africans still feel that the world engages the continent primarily as a source of resources rather than as equal partners in humanity.

This explains why anti-French sentiment in parts of Africa often carries emotional intensity. It is not only about contemporary policies. It is also about accumulated historical pain.

History lingers in the body of nations just as trauma lingers in individuals.

When African protesters reject French troops or criticize French economic influence, they are responding not only to current events but also to generations of imbalance. The memory of extraction has not disappeared. The memory of humiliation has not disappeared. The memory of imposed systems has not disappeared.

France, meanwhile, struggles to redefine its identity in a changing world. The decline of influence in Africa represents not only economic loss but symbolic loss. Former empires often find it difficult to accept diminished control. Yet genuine partnership cannot exist where one side still unconsciously assumes superiority.

Africa’s future should not be determined in Paris, Washington, Beijing, or Moscow. It should be shaped in African capitals, communities, universities, churches, and homes. External partnerships may remain necessary in an interconnected world, but partnership must not become disguised dependence.

The challenge for Africa is therefore both external and internal. The continent must resist exploitative foreign influence while also building systems capable of sustaining true independence. Political slogans alone will not solve structural problems. Expelling foreign troops without strengthening institutions may simply create new instability. Genuine liberation requires wisdom, integrity, and long-term vision.

The Bible consistently warns against domination and injustice because God understands how power corrupts human relationships. Nations, like individuals, are tempted to control rather than serve. The strong often justify exploiting the weak through sophisticated language. Yet Scripture insists that oppression ultimately destroys both the oppressed and the oppressor.

Perhaps this is why conversations about Africa matter spiritually as much as politically. They force humanity to confront questions of greed, dignity, memory, justice, and responsibility. They reveal whether the world has truly learned from its past or merely changed its vocabulary.

The new scramble for Africa may not resemble the colonial invasions of the nineteenth century. There are no European conferences openly dividing territories on maps. There are no official declarations of empire. Yet economic dependency, strategic competition, and political influence continue shaping the continent in powerful ways.

The methods have evolved.

The ambitions sometimes remain the same.

Africa now stands in a critical historical moment. The continent is young, resource-rich, globally significant, and increasingly conscious of its worth. This creates both opportunity and danger. The world is watching Africa again, not because it suddenly discovered African humanity, but because Africa matters economically and strategically in the future global order.

The question is whether African nations can navigate this attention without surrendering their autonomy once more.

The struggle is no longer simply about removing foreign flags. It is about dismantling invisible systems of dependence. It is about refusing economic arrangements that benefit outsiders more than citizens. It is about ensuring that African resources build African futures. It is about recovering confidence after centuries of exploitation.

Perhaps the deepest tragedy of colonialism was not only stolen resources but stolen imagination. Colonized people were taught to doubt themselves. Dependency became normalized. External approval became valuable. Liberation therefore requires more than political change. It requires psychological renewal.

Africa does not need saviors. It needs justice. It needs ethical leadership. It needs accountable institutions. It needs partnerships rooted in equality rather than hidden hierarchy.

And France, if it truly seeks a new relationship with Africa, must understand that the age of unquestioned influence is fading. Respect cannot be demanded from former colonies. It must be earned through honesty, humility, and genuine equality.

The old colonial world is dying slowly, but traces of it still move beneath modern diplomacy.

The scramble continues, though now wearing a suit instead of a soldier’s uniform.

The empire still speaks softly, still smiles politely, still signs agreements elegantly, but has the desire to control ever truly left?