When South African President Cyril Ramaphosa arrived in Washington in May 2025 for his first meeting with President Donald Trump, many expected a standard display of diplomatic courtesy: joint statements, photo-ops and reaffirmations of shared goals. Instead, what unfolded was a conspicuous departure from normal protocol, an unscripted, confrontational exchange that focused intensely on South Africa’s domestic land-reform debate and side-lined broader areas of mutual interest. The encounter not only captured headlines for its theatrical quality, but also exposed deeper uncertainties in U.S. policy toward Africa under the Trump administration.

The tense exchange at the oval office is an indicator of a growing disconnect between Washington and Pretoria, and, by extension, between the United States and many African countries. South Africa, as the continent’s most advanced economy and an influential AU and BRICS member, naturally figures centrally in any U.S. strategy for Africa. Its vast mineral reserves, sophisticated financial markets and leading role in regional security initiatives make it an indispensable partner on issues ranging from energy diversification to pandemic preparedness. But when bilateral engagements are dominated by criticism of internal reforms and personal political theatre, opportunities for cooperation risk being buried under controversy.

This risk is particularly acute given the broader context of great-power competition in Africa. Over the past decade, China has become the continent’s largest trading partner, financing highways, railways and ports through its Belt and Road Initiative, often with few governance preconditions. Russia, via private security firms and military training programs, has cultivated ties in the Sahel and Central Africa. Both capitals frame themselves as respectful, non-interventionist allies—an appealing alternative to Western models that sometimes come with human-rights or transparency stipulations. In contrast, a U.S. approach perceived as inconsistent, punitive or personalized may struggle to gain traction when rivals emphasize continuity and sovereignty.

Yet the Trump administration’s record on Africa does not suggest a coherent counter-strategy. Aid packages have been frozen or delayed over policy disputes; punitive tariffs have been imposed on South African exports; and provocative resettlement offers for white farmers have undercut diplomatic goodwill. These sporadic moves, often motivated by domestic electoral politics, have created uncertainty among African leaders about Washington’s true priorities.

In this light, the Ramaphosa visit assumed symbolic importance. It signalled to other African governments that high-level access might hinge more on their willingness to endure criticism than on shared strategic goals. That perception matters: African publics and policymakers increasingly view international partnerships through the lens of respect and reciprocity. Where China and Russia tout investment deals devoid of public rebuke, a U.S. posture that foregrounds internal politics, land rights, crime statistics or constitutional debates, can feel intrusive.

At the same time, it is crucial to recognize that African states are not passive participants in this contest. Over the past several years, they have leveraged new multilateral platforms, expanded BRICS membership, an observer role in the G20 and reinvigorated AU initiatives, to assert their own agendas. South Africa’s recent G20 presidency, for instance, highlighted the continent’s development priorities even as Washington remains on the side-lines. New coalitions of middle powers and regional blocs now offer alternatives to traditional Western-led forums, giving African leaders greater choice in aligning with global partners.

This evolution has practical consequences. African governments now negotiate from positions of relative strength: seeking capital for technology and infrastructure, rather than simply aid; pressing for equitable joint ventures instead of unilateral assistance; and demanding that diplomatic engagement respect local decision-making processes. Ramaphosa’s delegation, which included business leaders and civil-society figures, revealed Pretoria’s emphasis on economic and cultural ties, not just political platitudes.

The Trump-Ramaphosa encounter laid bare both the stakes and the perils of mismanaged diplomacy. In a more multipolar world, displays of unilateralism or domestic-political spectacle carry significant diplomatic costs, particularly when rivals offer less conditional engagement. For American interests, the question is whether the United States will seize the moment to craft a comprehensive Africa policy, one that treats African countries as equal partners in shared challenges, or revert to episodic confrontations that undermine its credibility. As African nations continue to diversify their alliances, U.S. influence will hinge on its ability to engage in successful diplomacy. Only by doing so can Washington ensure that it remains a valued, and respected, actor on the world’s fastest-growing continent.

By Mahder Nesibu,Researcher,Horn Review