Africa and the new world order

When the rules are changing, will Africa rewrite them or let others decide its fate?

Anyone watching the live meeting between Donald Trump, JD Vance and the president of Ukraine, Volodymyr Zelensky, in the Oval Office on 28 February could sense it: a fundamental shift in world politics. Trump and Vance flipped the script. They questioned Ukraine’s moral authority. They demanded gratitude. They scolded Zelensky, implying that his country was weak, reckless and undeserving of unquestioning support.

But here’s the thing: the rudeness was not a mistake. Societies, like markets, function on unspoken rules. Some are formal – laws, treaties, constitutions. Others are softer but just as powerful. You don’t berate a friend while their house is on fire. You don’t demand thanks while handing them a bucket of water. These rules exist for a reason: they preserve order, prevent chaos and build trust. But when a powerful actor deliberately ignores them, the boundaries of the possible blur. What else is up for negotiation? If alliances are no longer sacred, what prevents someone from tearing them up entirely? The United States broke a taboo – openly – to signal that it will do whatever it takes to force a negotiated end to the conflict.

Morally jarring as it is, shock therapy may sometimes be the only way to break a deadlock. The war is dragging on. The West’s strategy of waiting for Russia to exhaust itself has come at an immense cost: financially and in terms of lives lost. If the goal is to end the bloodshed, diplomacy must be on the table. Even with an aggressor like Russia, negotiation may be the only realistic path away from a deeper crisis. Trump and Vance’s performance, as brutal as it was for Zelensky, is probably their attempt to reset expectations.

But the resetting of expectations is not confined to war and diplomacy. The same ruthless pragmatism is now being applied elsewhere, and Africa is feeling the effects. Elon Musk’s Department of Government Efficiency has imposed its own brand of shock therapy, with far-reaching consequences. Among the hardest hit is foreign aid: USAID’s budget has been slashed, with deadly short-term effects for millions of Africans who rely on US-backed HIV/AIDS programmes.

Here in South Africa, a $400-million cut to HIV/AIDS funding threatens to undo decades of progress, reducing access to life-saving treatment for millions. The US funds nearly 20% of South Africa’s $2.3-billion annual HIV/AIDS programme; an estimated 5.9 million people rely on antiretroviral therapy, and without intervention, thousands could face treatment interruptions, leading to increased mortality and preventable mother-to-child transmissions.

This is a terrible crisis that few could have foreseen. But blaming the United States alone is not enough. The harsh reality is that Africa’s reliance on external aid has left millions vulnerable to the political whims of distant capitals. For years, donors have shaped priorities, dictated policies and funded essential services that should have been the responsibility of African governments. The result? A chronic dependency that has eroded state capacity and left many nations unable – or unwilling – to fund their own development. Now, as donor priorities shift elsewhere, the consequences are devastating.

In a brilliant Substack post, Georgetown comparative politics scholar Ken Opalo puts it bluntly: Aid dependency is a structural weakness. It hollows out governance, distorts incentives, and allows ruling elites to sidestep their core responsibilities. Countries that fail to build independent, resilient service delivery systems will be the first to suffer as aid dries up. For too long, foreign aid has acted as a crutch – one that allows governments to defer difficult decisions, outsource essential services and paper over their own failures. It was always an illusion. Foreign aid, however well-intentioned, should never be a substitute for state capacity. Now, the illusion is shattering. (Ken shared some of these ideas in an earlier Our Long Walk podcast.)

The question is: Who is prepared to take responsibility rather than plead for exceptions? If the last three decades were defined by donor-driven development, the next three will be shaped by those who can stand on their own feet. And here, South Africa has a chance – perhaps its last – to lead by example.

As I’ve argued before, standing firm against a bully is admirable, but a bully thrives on weakness. And South Africa – riddled with corruption that has hollowed out state institutions, drained resources, and crippled Eskom; plagued by cronyism that has collapsed service delivery in many municipalities; shackled by a web of labour laws that stifle rather than empower entrepreneurs – has made itself an easy target. A country with our level of institutional capacity should not be at the mercy of Washington’s budget cuts. The fact that we are speaks to decades of mismanagement, policy drift and an unwillingness to confront hard choices.

But hard choices can no longer be avoided. On Wednesday, the Minister of Finance has an opportunity to set a new course. By announcing that South Africa will fund the entire shortfall of USAID’s HIV/AIDS programme itself – requiring no more than a 0.2 percentage point increase in VAT – he can send a clear signal: South Africa will not beg; it will act. A decision like this would not only shore up life-saving treatment for millions but would also make a powerful political statement. It would show Trump and the world that South Africa is capable of taking care of its own.

But we should do even more. The shortfall in funding extends beyond South Africa, and while some African countries may struggle to bridge the gap immediately, this is an opportunity to invest in the African Renaissance that former president Thabo Mbeki envisioned. If South Africa is serious about leading on the continent, it must work to strengthen multilateral institutions that can step in where donors retreat. A collective African response – where wealthier nations help fund programmes in the short term, with a clear roadmap for national governments to take over within five years – would ensure that this crisis becomes a turning point, not a catastrophe.

On Substack, former Liberian Minister of Public Works W. Gyude Moore offers a sobering reminder of what’s at stake:

The world has changed – African countries will find out, the hard way, what it means when one can no longer depend on ‘partners’. The UK and the Netherlands will cut already declining contributions to international development to finance defense. It is reasonable to expect all of Europe to go down this path. There has been an erosion of public support in Japan for expanding official development assistance. The world has changed… Nobody is coming to save us. It was always a mistake to surrender core policymaking to outsiders because they paid for our maize and medicines. But even that option is gone now. Here’s to hoping it’s a new day.

This, then, is Africa’s moment of reckoning. The old rules – of alliances held together by obligations, of aid as an unquestioned pillar of development, of donor largesse shaping policy priorities – have been torn up. New rules will force a painful transition. Sure, some will resist these rules – those who have grown comfortable outsourcing responsibility, those who have benefited from the status quo. But delay is no longer an option. The old order is fading.

The boundaries of the possible are shifting. Will we wait, as we have before, for decisions made in Washington, Brussels or Beijing to dictate our fate? Or will we seize the moment, rewrite the rules in our own favour and build a system that is no longer contingent on the generosity – or indifference – of others?

An edited version of this article was published on News24. Support more such writing by signing up for a paid subscription. The images were created with Midjourney v6.