Russia’s pledge to more than double annual trade with African countries to over US$50 billion, made at the latest Russia-Africa Summit in Moscow, is the newest entry in a delivery record that remains thin. President Vladimir Putin promised US$40 billion within five years at the inaugural 2019 summit. That target was never met; bilateral trade stood at roughly US$27 billion in 2025.
The summit produced a substantial paper trail. Delegations from 48 African countries attended, including 21 heads of state, slightly more than the 17 leaders who came in 2023 but still below the 43 who attended in 2019. Participants signed 146 documents, compared with 161 publicly disclosed agreements in 2023, along with a 2027-29 action plan and declarations on political cooperation and the civilian applications of artificial intelligence.
For African governments, the distinction between declarations and viable projects is becoming more important. The relationship is increasingly institutionalised, but not necessarily economically consequential.
The delivery record is uneven. Russia’s roughly US$27 billion in trade with Africa in 2025 is dwarfed by China’s US$348 billion. What trade exists is concentrated in relatively few countries, particularly in North Africa, and much of it is one-way, largely comprising Russian exports such as grain, petroleum products, metals and fertilisers.
Moscow’s capacity to close that imbalance is constrained by the war in Ukraine. Its draft 2027 budget allocates roughly US$203 billion, or 35% of federal spending, to defence, limiting its ability to underwrite the large-scale infrastructure and industrial investments many African governments increasingly demand.
There are still areas where Russia has something operationally valuable to offer. Its grain and fertiliser exports remain important to several African economies, and nuclear energy cooperation presents opportunities for countries seeking to diversify their energy systems. Egypt’s El Dabaa nuclear power plant illustrates the scale of these ambitions, while prospective projects in Ethiopia, Uganda and Rwanda could deepen Russia’s footprint.
Yet nuclear cooperation also exposes the distance between pledges and implementation. Agreements can precede construction by many years, and financing, technical capacity and regulatory requirements remain substantial barriers. Ghana’s announcement of Russian support for a proposed 2 000-megawatt nuclear power plant is another ambitious commitment that will depend on expeditious delivery.
Where Russia has delivered most readily is in security. Rather than trying to replicate China’s expansive infrastructure investments or the European Union’s extensive commercial and development partnerships, Moscow has focused on areas where relatively modest commitments can generate substantial political returns. In the Sahel and parts of Central Africa, this means security cooperation, arms supplies, military training and regime protection, sometimes accompanied by preferential access to mineral resources. These arrangements offer immediate benefits to governments seeking alternatives to Western security partnerships, and for Russia they provide access and political sway at a fraction of the cost of infrastructure or development programmes.
In effect, Russia has become more adept at converting limited resources into disproportionate geopolitical influence. But leverage over political elites should not be confused with developmental impact. Security arrangements that strengthen incumbent governments do not necessarily improve civilian protection, institutional accountability or long-term stability, and Russia’s expanded security role in the Sahel is yet to make the region safer.
Meanwhile, the geopolitical environment has shifted since 2019. What began as Moscow’s attempt to reclaim influence lost after the Soviet collapse has become an effort to counter Western diplomatic pressure, diversify partnerships and mitigate the economic fallout of the Ukraine conflict. Many Western governments expected the 2022 invasion to push African countries away from Moscow. Instead, most resisted pressure to choose sides, recognising that engagement with Russia does not preclude cooperation with other partners.
African governments have become skilled at exploiting this competition, treating Russia as one of several significant external partners rather than an indispensable ally. Alternatives are available from India, Türkiye, the Gulf states and others, creating opportunities to negotiate better terms, diversify dependencies and extract concessions. Russia’s primary competition is consequently not China, whose economic reach it cannot replicate, but Western actors whose longstanding political and security relationships it seeks to displace in selected countries.
There is a more uncomfortable dimension as well. Investigations document the recruitment of over 3 000 Africans from about 40 countries into Russia’s armed forces since the war began, and hundreds have died. After the summit, Kenya and Ghana announced renewed Russian assurances that their nationals would no longer be recruited. Russia’s appeal as a defender of sovereignty now sits uneasily alongside allegations that some recruitment networks have exploited vulnerable Africans.
The broader lesson is about conversion. Having more partners does not automatically translate into greater strategic autonomy. The benefits depend on whether African governments can turn diplomatic attention into tangible gains for their economies and people; otherwise, diversification risks reproducing patterns of dependency under a broader range of external patrons. Russia has become adept at gaining standing in Africa without becoming economically indispensable. The task now facing African governments is to show they can convert that influence, and the competition surrounding it, into developmental gains on their own terms.