Why I Do Not Believe in the United States of Africa.

I do not believe in the dream of a United States of Africa.

And before somebody immediately accuses me of being anti-African, let me make something absolutely clear:

I am not against Africa. I am for Africa.

I believe in Ubuntu.

I believe in African sovereignty.

I believe in Pan-African cooperation.

I believe Africans should control their own resources, their own economies and their own future.

And I believe Africa should be strong enough to defend itself against foreign political and economic interference.

But none of that automatically means that I believe an entire continent should be placed inside one gigantic political state.

In fact, I believe that blindly pursuing such a project could produce exactly the opposite of what its supporters hope to achieve.

THE BIGGER-BORDER FALLACY

Here is the question nobody seems to want to ask:

If smaller political units cannot resolve their internal divisions, why would making the political unit even bigger magically solve the problem?

Political history gives us plenty of reasons to take that question seriously.

The United States has experienced secessionist movements and profound regional divisions.

The United Kingdom has faced Scottish independence movements and the long constitutional question surrounding Northern Ireland.

Yugoslavia was a multinational federation and eventually broke apart.

Russia contains numerous peoples and regions with distinct historical identities.

China has also faced longstanding tensions involving ethnic and regional identities.

None of this proves that every federation must fail.

It proves something much simpler:

A flag does not create a people.

A constitution does not erase history.

And drawing a bigger border does not make differences disappear.

Now apply that logic to Africa.

Countries such as the Democratic Republic of Congo and Nigeria already contain extraordinary ethnic, linguistic, religious and regional diversity.

They already have to deal with difficult questions involving political representation, regional identity and the distribution of power.

And the proposed solution is what?

Make the political structure even bigger?

Combine dozens of countries into one continental state?

If you cannot make the smaller house work, why would adding fifty more rooms suddenly improve the architecture?

THE QUESTION OF POWER

This brings us to the question that is too often avoided:

Who controls this new Africa?

Who holds political power?

Which demographic groups dominate its institutions?

Which languages receive priority?

Which legal traditions prevail?

Which cultures receive national recognition?

Which version of African history becomes the national narrative?

And what happens to a small ethnic or linguistic community when it suddenly becomes a tiny minority inside a political structure containing hundreds of millions — potentially more than a billion — people?

What becomes of its political influence?

What becomes of its ability to defend its interests?

What exactly is the value of its vote within such an enormous structure?

These are not secondary questions.

They are fundamental questions.

Because Africa is not one ethnicity.

Africa is not one language.

Africa is not one religion.

Africa is not one culture.

Africa is not one historical experience.

And Africa did not historically develop as one political nation.

BEFORE UNITING AFRICA, ADDRESS ITS EXISTING FRAGMENTATION

Colonialism made this situation even more complicated.

Colonial borders frequently divided existing ethnic, linguistic and cultural communities between different states.

The Maasai live across Kenya and Tanzania.

Somali communities extend across several present-day political jurisdictions in the Horn of Africa and East Africa.

Lunda communities extend across several countries.

Bakongo communities live across Angola and the two Congos.

Fulani/Fula communities are spread across large parts of West Africa and the Sahel.

So I ask an uncomfortable question:

Why should the colonial map suddenly become sacred when discussing African political unity?

Perhaps the first question should not be:

“How do we unite Africa?”

Perhaps it should be:

“How do we repair the fragmentation that already exists?”

That leads me to a very different vision.

BUILD FROM THE BOTTOM UP

My principle is:

First self-determination.

First cultural confidence.

First sovereignty.

Then cooperation.

Then — if people actually want it — federation.

I deliberately use the provocative word Balkanisation.

But I do not mean war.

I do not mean ethnic cleansing.

I do not mean hatred between neighbouring peoples.

I mean questioning the assumption that borders inherited from colonial administrations must remain politically untouchable forever.

What if Africans themselves could ask which communities were historically divided by artificial borders?

What if those communities could strengthen their cultural, linguistic and historical connections?

What if political structures were built from the bottom up instead of designed from the top down?

The eventual result might be larger regional federations.

It might be confederations.

Perhaps, one day, it could even produce something resembling a continental federation.

But there is one crucial difference:

The unity would be chosen.

And that distinction matters.

Because unity imposed from above is not necessarily unity.

It can simply be centralisation wrapped in a beautiful slogan.

THE GEOPOLITICAL PROBLEM

There is another issue supporters of a continental federation should take seriously:

geopolitics.

Imagine a single African federation controlling enormous territories, strategic minerals, energy resources, agricultural land, waterways and one of the largest markets on Earth.

Would the world's major powers suddenly lose their geopolitical interests in Africa?

Of course not.

Such a political entity would attract enormous international attention.

And when a large political structure contains significant internal divisions, those divisions can become vulnerabilities.

A dissatisfied minority can potentially attract foreign support.

Money can flow.

Weapons can flow.

Political support can flow.

Intelligence can flow.

Propaganda can flow.

Diplomatic recognition can be offered.

Separatist movements can receive external backing.

And the reverse is equally possible: an outside power may decide that supporting a central government or demographic majority better serves its interests.

Either way, Africans risk becoming pieces on somebody else's geopolitical chessboard.

African history already contains numerous examples of foreign powers becoming entangled in domestic and regional conflicts.

Rwanda and the wider Great Lakes conflicts also demonstrate why simplistic narratives are dangerous. Ethnicity, state interests, regional politics and foreign involvement can become deeply intertwined.

That complexity is precisely my point.

The larger and more strategically valuable the political structure becomes, the greater the stakes surrounding control of that structure become.

THEN THERE IS LANGUAGE

Another argument I regularly hear is:

“We can simply use Kiswahili as Africa's lingua franca.”

But why should the question be that simple?

Kiswahili is an African language with enormous historical importance, particularly in East Africa. It has served as a major regional lingua franca and has also received institutional recognition at continental level.

But why should one regional language automatically become the linguistic symbol of an entire continent?

Africa possesses an extraordinary linguistic heritage:

Wolof. Yoruba. Igbo. Hausa. Fulfulde. Kongo. Lingala. Kinyarwanda. Kirundi. Amharic. Oromo. Tshiluba. Akan. Zulu. Xhosa. Shona.

And hundreds more.

My point is not to oppose Kiswahili.

My point is that:

African unity should not require African linguistic erasure.

A genuinely African political project should preserve linguistic diversity rather than simply replacing European linguistic dominance with a new continental linguistic hierarchy.

MY DISAGREEMENT WITH IDEOLOGICAL PAN-AFRICANISM

This is where my disagreement with more ideological forms of Pan-Africanism becomes fundamental.

For me, Pan-Africanism does not require pretending that Africa is already one nation.

It means strengthening African peoples so that they can determine their own future.

That may eventually produce greater political integration.

Perhaps even political union.

But such a transformation should occur because people choose it — not because political leaders or intellectuals decide that hundreds of communities should subordinate their existing identities to one continental political project.

I would rather see Africans rediscover their own histories.

I would rather see endangered languages protected.

I would rather see communities reconnect with their traditions.

I would rather see colonial borders questioned where appropriate and peacefully.

I would rather see African states develop strong regional alliances based on concrete shared interests.

And I would rather see political power decentralised than concentrated inside one enormous continental bureaucracy.

AFRICAN RULE DOES NOT AUTOMATICALLY MEAN GOOD RULE

There is an uncomfortable possibility Pan-Africanists should also confront:

Removing foreign domination does not make internal domination impossible.

A gigantic African state would not automatically be democratic.

It would not automatically distribute political power fairly.

It would not automatically protect minorities.

It would not automatically eliminate corruption.

It would not automatically prevent authoritarianism.

And it certainly would not automatically eliminate foreign interference.

Calling a political structure “African” does not resolve those problems.

Institutions still matter.

Power still matters.

Representation still matters.

Consent still matters.

I AM NOT AGAINST AFRICAN UNITY

So no:

I am not against African unity.

I am against pretending that unity is a magic word that solves every problem.

I reject the assumption that a larger political structure automatically produces a better political outcome.

And I reject the idea that questioning a United States of Africa automatically makes someone anti-African.

Most importantly, I reject the idea that the identities and political interests of hundreds of African peoples should simply disappear in pursuit of an abstract political ideal.

My position is therefore straightforward:

Self-determination before centralisation.

Cultural confidence before homogenisation.

Sovereignty before bureaucracy.

Cooperation before political absorption.

Consent before federation.

Build Africa from the bottom up.

Not from the top down.

THE QUESTION THAT EVERYTHING COMES DOWN TO

You can place 55 states inside one political structure.

You can create a continental parliament.

You can create a flag.

You can create an anthem.

You can print passports.

You can give the project a magnificent name:

THE UNITED STATES OF AFRICA.

But none of those things answers the fundamental question:

Do the people living inside that structure actually want to become one political nation?

If the answer is not clearly yes, then creating the institutions does not by itself create the identity.

You have created a larger political container and assumed that a common political identity will eventually follow.

History gives us good reason to examine that assumption carefully.

Africa does not need unity at any price.

Africa needs cooperation between strong, self-confident peoples capable of determining their own futures.

And if those peoples eventually decide that they want to construct a federation together, then let them construct it.

But let it be based on:

Consent.

Sovereignty.

Diversity.

Self-determination.

Political reality.

Not on the assumption that drawing one gigantic border around Africa can erase centuries of history.

Because a united Africa that cannot protect its internal diversity from domestic domination or external manipulation is not automatically stronger.

It may simply become a much bigger target.

Greetings from Jean Kiala-Inkisi — a proud far-right Pan-Africanist, because apparently you can love Africa without subscribing to every Pan-Africanist dogma.