think-tank

At last week's Russia-Africa Summit in Moscow, Vladimir Putin made a familiar promise: double trade with Africa to over $50 billion. He made the same kind of pledge at the inaugural 2019 summit, targeting $40 billion within five years. It never happened. Bilateral trade sat at roughly $27 billion in 2025.
The pattern is unmistakable. Russia keeps showing up to Africa with big speeches and bigger promises, while delivering almost nothing of economic substance. But what makes this story worth telling is not Moscow's failure to deliver. It is the fact that Russia keeps gaining influence anyway.
Since 2019, Russia has secured strategic footholds across the continent without matching its rivals' financial resources or commercial presence. China trades $348 billion a year with Africa. Russia manages $27 billion, most of it one-way: Russian grain, petroleum, metals and fertilisers flowing out, with little coming back.
The trick is that Moscow does not try to compete on economics. Instead, it focuses on areas where small commitments generate outsized political returns. In the Sahel and Central Africa, that means arms deals, military training, regime protection, and preferential access to mineral resources. It is cheap influence: a fraction of what infrastructure investments cost, but enough to buy political loyalty from governments desperate for alternatives to Western security partnerships.
Forty-eight African delegations attended this year's summit, including 21 heads of state. They signed 146 documents. The question no one at the summit asked: how many of those documents will translate into actual projects?
Russia's most consequential tool in Africa is its security apparatus: the remnants of Wagner, now reconstituted as the Africa Corps, along with direct military cooperation agreements.
The sales pitch is simple: we will protect your government, no conditions attached. No lectures on human rights, no governance benchmarks, no transparency requirements. For coup leaders in Mali, Burkina Faso and Niger, and for embattled regimes across Central Africa, the offer is irresistible.
But leverage over political elites should not be confused with security. Russia's expanded military role in the Sahel has not made the region safer. Civilian casualties continue. Armed groups proliferate. The only thing Russia's security partnerships reliably protect is the incumbency of the leaders who sign the deals.
There is a dimension to this relationship that Russia would rather not discuss. Investigations have documented the recruitment of over 3,000 Africans from approximately 40 countries into Russia's armed forces to fight in Ukraine. Hundreds have died.
After the summit, Kenya and Ghana announced "renewed Russian assurances" that their nationals would no longer be recruited. The reassurance rings hollow: Russia presents itself as a defender of African sovereignty while simultaneously exploiting vulnerable Africans as cannon fodder in its European war.
African governments are not passive in this. Many have become skilled at playing external powers against each other, treating Russia as one card in a hand that includes China, India, Turkey, the Gulf states and the West. The competition among these powers creates opportunities to negotiate better terms and extract concessions.
But having more suitors does not automatically produce better outcomes. Benefits depend on whether governments can convert diplomatic attention into actual development for their people. Without that conversion, diversification just reproduces dependency under a broader range of patrons.
Russia has found a formula for gaining standing in Africa without becoming economically useful. That tells you everything about what Moscow actually wants from the continent: not partnership, but positioning. Not development, but leverage. The question for African leaders is whether they can turn that leverage back on Russia and every other power circling the continent with promises and little else.
Based on reporting by ISS