Thursday, May 07, 2026

Guinea in the spiral of dictatorship

Thursday 7 May 2026, by Paul Martial




The latest measure to dissolve political parties in Guinea reinforces a dictatorship that prefers to adopt an extractivist policy at all costs rather than respond to the social needs of the population. Forty political parties were dissolved on the night of Friday 6 to Saturday 7 March by the Guinean government, on the eve of the legislative elections scheduled for May 2026. [1]

Among them are mainstream parties such as the Union des forces démocratiques de Guinée (UFDG) led by former prime minister Cellou Dalein Diallo, the le Rassemblement du peuple de Guinée (RPG) of former president Alpha Condé and the Union des forces républicaines (UFR) of former prime minister Sidya Touré.

A coup d’état against a backdrop of crisis

This measure is part of a long sequence aimed at consolidating the dictatorship of Mamadi Doumbouya. A former corporal in the Foreign Legion of the French army, he climbed the ladder on his return to Guinea, taking command of the Special Forces Group, an elite battalion, before becoming a lieutenant general.

By running for a third term thanks to a change in the constitution, Alpha Condé provoked a serious political crisis marked by demonstrations and clashes in the country’s main cities. Doumbouya took advantage of this situation to overthrow the president, whose election was illegitimate.

When he took power on 5 September 2021, Mamadi Doumbouya had declared that he would not stay in office forever: “I would like to reiterate here my commitment that neither I nor any member of the CNRD and the organs of the Transition will be a candidate in the upcoming elections and that we have no intention of clinging to power”, also promising not to run in the presidential election and to guarantee the fundamental freedoms of Guineans. [2]

He also affirmed that “the personalization of political life is over, we are no longer going to entrust politics to one man, but to the people”. [3]

All-out repression

Four years later, the situation is bitter. None of the promises have been kept. Posters glorifying Doumbouya are omnipresent in the public space. He adopted a new constitution on 21 September 2025, officially approved by 90% of voters, which allows him to run for president with a seven-year term, renewable once. Like the constitutional referendum, the presidential election was a vast masquerade, with the main opponents excluded from the race. It was with an official score of 86.7% that Doumbouya was “elected” president of the Republic.

This accession to power was accompanied by increasingly ferocious repression. Demonstrations were bloodily repressed and a policy of enforced disappearances was deployed throughout the country. Sally Bilaly Sow, a journalist, Mohamed Traoré, a lawyer, Néné Oussou Diallo, leader of the UFDG, Abdoul Sacko, coordinator of the Forum des forces sociales de Guinée, and Foniké Menguè and Billo Bah, civil society activists, are among dozens of abductees, most of whom have never reappeared. For those who have gone into exile, the regime is relentless on their loved ones. Recently, hooded men kidnapped the 84-year-old sister and mother of Tibou Kamara, a former adviser to Alpha Condé.

The new liberticidal measure to dissolve 40 political parties is based on incoherent legal quibbles. Thus, the UFDG was supposed to hold its congress on 6 July 2025, but a court ordered it to be postponed indefinitely. This formation is therefore now dissolved for obeying court orders.

From now on, banned parties lose their legal status and legal personality. It is forbidden to use the acronym, name or logo of these formations. Their premises were sequestered and their property confiscated.

The stakes for the dictatorship are high, because at least the three main parties have a real capacity to mobilise and represent a danger to the regime. Especially since its social and economic policy is catastrophic.

Extractivism vs. social progress

The social situation in Guinea is worsening: nearly half of the population lives below the poverty line. Food insecurity affects 11% of Guinea’s 14 million people, up from 2.6% in 2020, one of the highest increases in Africa. Failing to fight poverty, the authorities have attacked the poor with brutality. Thus, without prior information, at dawn, construction machinery, escorted by the police, razed the small shops of odds and ends installed on the sidewalks of the capital. These small informal businesses provided a living for hundreds of families. No compensation or relocation measures to a market or other space have been proposed: overnight, these people have lost their livelihood.

The Guinean Oil Palm and Rubber Company (Soguipah), which is 100% owned by the Guinean state, does not comply with the minimum wage set at €55 per month. Some workers, for 170 hours of work per month, receive only €7. This company does not hesitate to trample on workers’ rights. [4]

The “emergence” plan known as Simandou 2040 provides for the exploitation of one of the largest iron mines in the world. The authorities promise an improvement, but there are great concerns about the environmental consequences, as the site is located in the Nimba Mountains, an area classified as a UNESCO World Heritage Site. The NGO Climate Rights International, which produced an impact study, stresses that the iron ore mining project at Mount Nimba “could have major negative environmental, climate and human impacts” and is concerned about “irreversible long-term consequences”. The project also threatens to worsen the situation of farmers, since it “has the potential to undermine food security and the local economy, because mining infrastructure will reduce or eliminate farmland in the villages of Gbakoré, Zouguepo, Bossou Centre, Seringbara and Thuo. The loss of arable land and pastures land will increase land pressure in the same prefecture where there have been deadly conflicts between herders and farmers.” [5]

As for the predicted economic upturn, it will mainly benefit the country’s elites, in particular the Doumbouya clan, in view of the number of corruption cases brought to light. [6] The president’s frenzy of real estate purchases in the upscale district of La Minière, in Conakry, is an illustration of this.

Concealing dictatorship

Since the presidential election, ECOWAS, the West African regional organisation, considers that constitutional order has been restored and has lifted its sanctions. This hypocrisy is shared by the French government, which is very happy not to be blacklisted as it is by the Sahelian states of Mali, Burkina Faso and Niger. In Guinea, despite a sovereignist discourse, the government does not fall into anti-French propaganda, perhaps because the former colonial power does not hesitate to lend a hand to the dictatorship through military and police cooperation. Aid workers are based in Conakry; they are conducting training and training projects for elite units of the Guinean army and security forces, who do not hesitate to fire live ammunition at unarmed demonstrators. NGOs report about a hundred deaths during the demonstrations.

As for the other powers, such as the United States, China or Canada, too satisfied to see their multinationals benefit from the country’s mineral wealth, they turn a blind eye to the regime’s abuses. If there is hope for change, it lies in the action of civil society organizations, trade unions and in the combativeness of the population, especially young people who represent half of Guineans.

27 April 2026

Translated by International Viewpoint. In French Inprecor.

Footnotes

[1Phot: Mamadi Dumbaya during the carnival celebrating the anniversary of Guinean independence, 2 October 2021. CC BY-SA 4.

[2“Le serment de Mamadi Doumbouya”, Tierno Monénembo, 27 January 2026, Le Point.

[3Bulletin Francopaix Vol. 10, number 9, November 2025.

[4“Guinée. Un nouveau rapport révèle les abus envers les droits de travailleurs de plantations liées à la Soguipah, une entreprise d’État”, 23 October 2025, Amnesty International.

[5“Guinea: Iron project threatens forests and communities”, 12 January 2026, Climate Rights International.

[6“Guinée : Pourquoi cette persistance des scandales financiers?”, Aïssatou Chérif Baldé, 21 January 2025, African Panorama Magazine.

Palantir’s ‘The Technological Republic’: A digital fascist manifesto

Palantir

Palantir Technologies’ manifesto, The Technological Republic: Hard Power, Soft Belief, and the Future of the West, is neither a technical document nor an economic vision. It is an explicitly political document announcing a new phase in the trajectory of digital capitalism. Abandoning claims to neutrality, the manifesto reveals digital capitalism’s true ideological face.

Palantir is not an isolated case in the global technological landscape. It is one of several major tech companies that sell technologies used for repression and human rights violations. Palantir has been condemned by international human rights organisations, including Amnesty International and Human Rights Watch, for its role in enabling forced deportations, mass surveillance and the persecution of dissidents.

Most damning of all, documented reports have revealed a direct partnership between the company (alongside Google, Amazon, Microsoft and others) and the Israeli military, providing data and targeting systems used in military operations in Gaza. This makes it a partner in documented war crimes against Palestinian civilians. In this, it does not differ in substance from other major digital capitalist companies, which practice the same thing in different forms and with varying degrees of openness.

The Technological Republic is the declaration of a class project for a digital fascist alliance, which relies not on traditional violence alone, but on digital surveillance and repression, data analysis, artificial intelligence (AI), manipulation of public opinion, and suppression of dissent through imperceptible yet deeply impactful methods. An alliance whose crimes do not remain within elite circles and corporate offices, but extend to battlefields and civilian areas, and embodied today in its clearest form in Trumpism and its alliances, crimes and aggressive wars.

From Silicon Valley to the White House: An organic alliance

To understand Palantir’s manifesto outside its isolated context, we must look at the alliance formed in recent years between a segment of the tech elite and the extreme nationalist right.

Peter Thiel, Palantir co-founder and the most significant financier of Trump’s political career, is not merely a businessperson supporting a political candidate. He is the ideological mind providing this project with its political logic; one who sees representative liberal democracy as an obstacle to the technocratic elite’s project and openly declares that capitalism and traditional liberal democracy are incompatible.

This alliance is no accident. It is an objective convergence between two projects that share a single goal: concentrating power in the hands of a financial and political oligarchy that believes it possesses a “natural right” to govern its own societies and others. This alliance finds its institutional expression in the technological acceleration movement, which includes Elon Musk, Jeff Bezos, Mark Zuckerberg and others, who have begun moving in coordinated fashion with the second Trump administration.

What unites them is not complete ideological alignment but class position and shared interest: the elimination of any regulatory or democratic constraint limiting their capacity for accumulation, domination, and expanded control.

The 22-point manifesto: A leftist reading of its class content

Palantir published a summary of its CEO Alexander Karp’s book amid wide global engagement and mounting political outrage, with views of it on X reaching into the millions within days. The manifesto is at its core a class roadmap, which deserves a precise leftist reading that goes beyond simple outrage.

The manifesto contains 22 points, constructed with deliberate architectural precision. Some points appear moderate or humane on the surface, such as calls for tolerance toward politicians in their personal lives or against rejoicing at an opponent’s defeat.

These points are neither innocent nor incidental. They are the calculated facade used to win over the hesitant reader and grant the manifesto a “balanced” image before revealing its true face. This is what ideological studies call the structure of manufactured consent: you are given a dose of reasonable-sounding language to help you swallow the toxic dose alongside it. What appears logical in the manifesto is therefore not evidence of its balance, but additional evidence of its cunning.

These points are deployed as cover to advance a comprehensive ideological agenda that ties these concerns to a project of militarisation, domination and civilisational hierarchy. Here, I will focus on the points that most reveal the project’s true class and ideological content, while addressing other issues further below.

Point 1 asserts that “the engineering elite of Silicon Valley is morally obligated to participate in the defense of the nation.” This moral framing is not innocent. When military and security contracting is presented as a “moral duty,” social pressure becomes a mechanism for compelling engineers and programmers to serve the machinery of war and repression. Every dissenting voice within tech companies is silenced in the name of “patriotism.” This is the conversion of individual conscience into a commodity in the service of the military and security state, with its repressive and surveillance institutions.

Point 2 calls for “rebellion against the tyranny of apps,” meaning the rejection of consumer technology in favour of deeper security and military systems. This is not a critique of consumer capitalism. It is a call to redirect technological capacity toward the war and surveillance machine, rather than the entertainment market.

Point 5 declares “the question is not whether AI weapons will be built; the question is who will build them.” This closed deterministic logic aims to eliminate any debate about rejecting technological militarisation at its roots. When the choice is framed as “us or the enemy,” the possibility of saying no to weapons altogether is erased. It is the same logic used by Cold War administrations to silence peace movements and restrict leftist organisations, simply in a digital guise.

Point 6 demands “national service be a universal duty,” calling for reconsideration of the all-volunteer military in favour of mandatory conscription. This demand reveals the manifesto’s classically fascist face: when the state fails to produce voluntary willingness to participate in its wars, it resorts to institutional coercion, calling it “shared responsibility.” Most tellingly, the company demanding young people offer their lives in defence of “the West” simultaneously earns billions of dollars from war contracts. Duty for all, profits for the few.

Point 17 asserts “Silicon Valley must play a role in addressing violent crime.” This proposal appears pragmatic on the surface, but at its core represents an expansion of the powers of private security companies. It would allow them to bypass the state and transform themselves into an independent force of social control, operating under the logic of profit rather than the logic of law, an independent judiciary and democratic accountability.

Point 20 demands “resistance to the pervasive intolerance of religious belief.” This point does not stem from a genuine defence of freedom of belief. It is an opportunistic deployment of religious discourse to build an ideological alliance with conservative and religious currents most susceptible to mobilising behind war projects. History teaches us that every fascist project needs an alliance with religious institutions to lend violence a sacred character; that is what this point seeks under the cover of “freedom of faith”.

Point 21 is the most revealing of the manifesto’s deep ideological dimension, declaring “some cultures have produced vital advances while others remain dysfunctional and regressive.” This sentence is not a passing cultural opinion. It is the theoretical foundation of civilisational colonial racism, which justifies domination, occupation and the killing of peoples under the cover of “rational management of civilisation.”

This logic does not fundamentally differ from “white man’s burden,” which justified colonialism. It is simply reproduced today in the language of algorithms and big data. What makes it more dangerous is that it requires no visible colonial forces — a database and a targeting algorithm suffice.

Trumpism as a system

A common mistake made is to reduce Trumpism to Donald Trump the individual. Trumpism is a comprehensive class project, combining national financial capital with chauvinistic nationalism and hostility toward immigrants and minorities. 

It is an expression of the crisis of capitalism when it can no longer reproduce the liberal illusion for its audience, resorting to aggressive nationalist discourse to divert attention from the real class contradictions. 

What the Palantir manifesto does is link digital monopoly capital to this project and supply it with the technological tools needed to transform it from electoral political discourse into an actual system of control. The documented cooperation between Palantir and immigration and security agencies in tracking and deporting migrants is a practical model of this alliance. 

Technology is not used to serve “security” in any neutral sense. It is used to implement repressive and racist policies with high operational efficiency. The digital tool makes repression faster, more precise and less in need of public justification.

Digital feudalism and its fascist phase

As I have argued in my analyses of digital capitalism, we are living through the advanced phase of digital feudalism, in which large corporations monopolise digital infrastructure and impose their conditions on users, just as feudal lords once monopolised land and controlled peasants.

What the Palantir manifesto reveals is that this digital feudalism is now entering its fascist phase, where capital no longer contents itself with silent economic exploitation but shifts towards explicit political and ideological mobilisation and control to protect its system from any threat.

Under digital capitalism, traditional manual and intellectual workers are no longer the only victims of exploitation. Every user produces daily data, which is converted into raw material for the production of surplus value without compensation. Digital serfs work within systems they do not own and are subject to rules over which they have no real influence.

What the manifesto adds to this picture is militarisation: these same exploitative systems are now directed toward framing the human mind, waging wars, suppressing dissent, forcing deportations and managing systems of security control.

Algorithms of death

The manifesto cannot be read in isolation from what is happening in contemporary wars. Documented reports have revealed that Palantir has established strategic partnerships with armies and security institutions to build targeting databases used in military operations. This is no longer a theoretical possibility, it is a documented daily practice: algorithms convert human lives into data points, and data points into military targets.

In Palestine, journalistic and investigative reports have documented the use of AI systems to build targeting lists resulting in massacres of civilians in Gaza. In Venezuela, Iran and other countries that Washington classifies as “threats,” surveillance and data systems are used to support militarism, aggression and wars that violate international law.

What the company calls a “smart targeting system” is in practice a machine for managing killing with industrial efficiency. Killing no longer requires a responsible human decision. It requires an algorithm, sufficient data and a green light from an apparatus subject to no democratic accountability. This is the field application of what the manifesto calls “real-time decision-making capacity,” where kill decisions are made instantaneously within closed technical systems.

Most importantly, these systems cannot be separated from the discourse that justifies classifying entire communities as backward or threatening. The crime does not begin with the bomb; it begins with the classification. When entire communities are defined as a threat, the killing and targeting of civilians becomes “security management,” rather than a crime whose perpetrators must be held accountable.

Self-surveillance and digital repression as tools of control

The dangers of Palantir’s model do not lie solely in its direct military applications. More dangerous is what can be described as the “surveillance society” — when control becomes internal rather than external.

An individual who knows they are being watched at every moment, and feels every digital interaction is being recorded and analysed, begins to impose surveillance on themselves. They modify their speech, avoid sensitive subjects, and distance themselves from radical dissenting ideas. This voluntary self-surveillance restricts and weakens leftist and progressive movements and labour organisations from within, without the need for arrests or direct restrictions.

The manifesto’s call for “deep understanding of human behavior” as a condition for security is in reality a call to build a comprehensive system for disrupting collective political action before it emerges. Predicting protest behaviour and dismantling it before it becomes an organised movement is a dream that security services have long pursued. Palantir’s technology is moving them closer to realising it.

The illusion of technological neutrality

Among the most prominent ideological mechanisms of the manifesto is its reliance on closed deterministic logic: “There will be no technological neutrality,” “the question is not whether AI weapons will be built,” “democracies cannot rely on moral discourse alone.”

This approach aims to convert political choices into inescapable natural facts and eliminate any questioning of the existing system from legitimate debate. It is the same approach used by neoliberals when they declared in the 1990s “capitalism is the end of history.” Now the same logic returns in a security formulation: there is no choice but digital militarisation.

This determinism is not a neutral description of reality. It is a tactic for emptying politics of its content. When you are convinced there is no alternative, you stop searching for one. That is the primary goal behind this language.

The leftist alternative: Collective ownership and control

The Palantir manifesto is not merely a document from a tech company announcing its positions. It is a loud-sounding alarm bell, which progressive forces must hear clearly. The battle over the future of technology is no longer lurking backstage. It has stepped into the open, announcing itself without shame. Those who delay in grasping this shift delay their entry into this century’s most decisive arena of struggle.

The fundamental question is not how technology is used. It is who owns it and determines its objectives. Technology will not become a tool of liberation as long as it remains in the hands of digital monopolies allied with projects of the right, war and repression.

Any serious discussion must begin from the necessity of collective societal ownership of digital infrastructure, and from subjecting algorithms and AI to genuine democratic oversight that represents the interests of the working masses, not monopolistic elites.

This requires leftist, progressive and human rights forces to seriously engage with the arena of technology as an important field of class struggle. Producing intellectual critique, however important, is not enough without building actual technological alternatives, through coordination and joint work via digital internationals: social platforms free from monopoly, restriction and repression; search tools that respect the privacy of all users; AI systems managed in a democratic and transparent manner; and other digital applications. 

These are not recreational projects for the future. They are an urgent strategic necessity for any serious liberatory project.

Technological disarmament as a prerequisite

Building alternatives is not enough unless paired with an organised campaign to strip monopolies of their technological weapons.

Palantir is not an exceptional case or an anomaly in the technological landscape. It is the most explicit and bold expression of what many other companies practice with greater silence and softer discourse. What makes it a point of focus in this analysis is that it reveals what others are accustomed to concealing. The system is one, the only exception is the degree of frankness.

Just as historic labour movements struggled to disarm capital in factories and farms, today an equivalent struggle is needed to collectively wrest lethal algorithms, targeting systems and mass surveillance from the grip of tech companies.

This struggle takes multiple forms: boycotting their services, exposing their secret contracts with governments, prosecuting their executives before international courts on charges of complicity in war crimes, and pressuring public institutions to sever  relationships with these companies. Every government contract is directly financing the killing and deportation machine. Stopping this financial flow is the first line of confrontation.

This path cannot be completed without working simultaneously at the domestic and international levels. At the domestic level, pressure must be applied to enact strict laws that require security technology companies to maintain full transparency in their contracts with governments, criminalise the use of AI systems in military targeting outside any independent judicial oversight, and compel these companies to submit to the same accountability standards public institutions are subject to.

At the international level, work must be done to subject these companies to international human rights conventions, particularly the Geneva Convention’s prohibition on the indiscriminate targeting of civilians, the United Nations’ Principles on Personal Data Protection and Privacy, and the UN’s Guiding Principles on Business and Human Rights.

A company that builds targeting databases in war zones cannot be permitted to operate outside this legal framework. If it does, the governments that sign contracts with them bear shared criminal responsibility. This is not a luxurious reformist demand. It is the minimum required by the humanity of law in confrontation with the inhumanity of the algorithm.

Exposing the labour silence at the heart of the manifesto

What is striking about the Palantir manifesto — indeed what is deeply suspicious — is that it does not mention a single word about workers, unions and the right to organise and strike. In a document that speaks of the “engineering elite,” “moral duty” and “backward cultures,” there is no place for the manual and intellectual workers who build these algorithms, operate them and live under the weight of their surveillance.

This silence is not incidental. It is an implicit admission that the fascist technological project cannot face the workers’ question, because workers alone, if organised, are capable of stopping the lines of death production. A general strike in Silicon Valley, or even in Palantir’s own offices, is this project’s worst nightmare. Supporting technology workers’ unions and linking their struggle to a global struggle is an act of resistance of the first order.

This technological struggle cannot be separated from grassroots popular struggle. Technology is a supporting tool for the struggle, not a substitute for it. Real power remains in political, labour and popular organisation, in social movements, and in international solidarity among the toiling masses, whether in wars, at borders or in workers’ neighbourhoods surveilled by algorithms that require no one’s permission.

Digital fascism by its true name

The Palantir manifesto clearly reveals we face a new form of fascism, not only in the narrow historic sense, but in its essential meaning: the alliance of monopoly capital with aggressive national political power, and the deployment of violence, repression and civilisational hierarchy to protect this alliance from any popular threat. The only difference is that the tools of fascism today are algorithms, big data and AI. This is what makes it more airtight and more difficult to resist.

Karp may have finished writing his philosophical manifesto, but the algorithms his company built continue their work of identifying targets, tracking migrants at borders, building databases of dissidents, and supporting the machinery of militarism and repression across the globe. Philosophy and crime are two faces of the same coin.

The struggle for social justice and liberation today passes inevitably and substantially through the struggle to liberate technology from this aggressive class alliance. This is not a technical question or an abstract ethical question. It is a political question and part of a historic struggle over who controls the future and human consciousness: the monopolistic minority allied with projects of death and repression, or the working masses who must impose their authority over the tools that shape their lives and destiny.

Sources and references

Amnesty International, Confronting the global political economy enabling Israel’s genocide, occupation and apartheid, September 2025. https://www.amnesty.org/en/latest/news/2025/09/global-political-economy-enabling-israels-genocide-occupation-apartheid/

Business and Human Rights Resource Centre, “Palantir allegedly enables Israel's AI targeting in Gaza, raising concerns over war crimes,” April, 2024. https://www.business-humanrights.org/en/latest-news/palantir-allegedly-enables-israels-ai-targeting-amid-israels-war-in-gaza-raising-concerns-over-war-crimes/

Business and Human Rights Resource Centre, “Amazon, Google and Microsoft fuel Israeli military aggression in Gaza, investigation reveals,” February 2025. https://www.business-humanrights.org/en/latest-news/amazon-google-microsoft-fuel-israeli-military-aggression-in-israels-war-on-gaza-investigation-reveals/

Business and Human Rights Resource Centre, “Google, Amazon and Microsoft allegedly complicit in war crimes amid Israel's war in Gaza,” April 2025. https://www.business-humanrights.org/en/latest-news/google-amazon-microsoft-allegedly-complicit-in-war-crimes-amid-israels-war-in-gaza/

Business and Human Rights Resource Centre, “Google did not respond to allegations over its complicity in war crimes amid Israel's war in Gaza,” April 2025. https://www.business-humanrights.org/en/latest-news/google-did-not-respond-to-the-allegations-over-its-complicity-in-war-crimes-amid-israels-war-in-gaza/

Business and Human Rights Resource Centre, “Amazon did not respond to allegations over its complicity in war crimes amid Israel's war in Gaza,” April 2025. https://www.business-humanrights.org/en/latest-news/amazon-did-not-respond-to-the-allegations-over-its-complicity-in-war-crimes-amid-israels-war-in-gaza/

Business and Human Rights Resource Centre, “Microsoft did not respond to allegations over its complicity in war crimes amid Israel's war in Gaza,” April 2025. https://www.business-humanrights.org/en/latest-news/microsoft-did-not-respond-to-the-allegations-over-its-complicity-in-war-crimes-amid-israels-war-in-gaza/

Ha, Anthony. “Palantir posts mini-manifesto denouncing inclusivity and ‘regressive’ cultures,” TechCrunch, April 19, 2026. https://techcrunch.com/2026/04/19/palantir-posts-mini-manifesto-denouncing-regressive-and-harmful-cultures

Karp, Alexander C. and Zamiska, Nicholas W. The Technological Republic: Hard Power, Soft Belief, and the Future of the West. Crown Currency, New York, 2025.

MacDonald, Cheyenne. “Palantir posted a manifesto that reads like the ramblings of a comic book villain,” Engadget, April 19, 2026. https://www.engadget.com/big-tech/palantir-posted-a-manifesto-that-reads-like-the-ramblings-of-a-comic-book-villain-181947361.html

Nolan Brown, Elizabeth, “Palantir’s new manifesto wants the military draft reinstated,” Reason, April 20, 2026. https://reason.com/2026/04/20/this-big-tech-firm-wants-to-reinstate-the-draft

Palantir Technologies, The Technological Republic, in brief (Official X post, April 2026) https://x.com/PalantirTech/status/2045574398573453312

Speakman Cordall, Simon. “Technofascism? Why Palantir’s pro-West ‘manifesto’ has critics alarmed,” Al Jazeera English, April 21, 2026. https://www.aljazeera.com/news/2026/4/21/technofacism-why-palantirs-pro-west-manifesto-has-critics-alarmed

TRT World, “Internet explodes in outrage over Palantir’s dystopian tech manifesto,” April 20, 2026. https://www.trtworld.com/article/e3c96555543c

Zhang, Sharon. “Amnesty Calls for States to Pull the Plug on Economy Backing Israel's Genocide,” Truthout, September 19, 2025. https://truthout.org/articles/amnesty-calls-for-states-to-pull-the-plug-on-economy-backing-israels-genocide

Anticolonial fraud: The Kremlin in Africa

Panel beim zweiten Russland-Afrika-Forum in Sankt Petersburg, 27.7.2023, Foto: picture alliance / Russian Look | Maksim Konstantinov

First published at Rosa-Luxemburg-Stiftung.

Among the many concepts coined by the Cold War, campism remains strikingly relevant in today’s increasingly polarized world. It frames global politics as a division between two camps: the imperialist West, seen as the primary source of global exploitation and instability, and its supposed anti-imperialist opponents. The term describes a tendency to support any force opposing Western imperialism and its allies — regardless of how reactionary, exploitative, or even imperialist those forces may be.

In the case of Russia, the resurgence of this mindset became especially visible after the full-scale invasion of Ukraine in 2022. As Moscow launched its assault on an independent country and proceeded to systematically commit colonial crimes both on the front lines and in occupied territories, some observers have chosen to overlook these atrocities, arguing instead that NATO’s expansion left the Kremlin with no alternative.

Amid the Kremlin’s growing suppression of indigenous peoples’ rights within Russia and the intensifying persecution of opposition voices — including those on the left — campist logic separates geopolitics from internal social relations. In contemporary Russia, however, this divide is even more pronounced. Despite its claims to speak on behalf of the Global South, Moscow extends its imperial ambitions far beyond its borders, reaching not only into neighbouring independent states such as Ukraine and Georgia but further afield.

In its quest for an anti-imperialist image, Russia increasingly targets African countries, which continue to be shaped by competition among global and regional powers. An alliance with an anti-Western Moscow is often framed as a path toward resisting the expansionist ambitions of former colonial powers, as well as securing stability and economic growth. Yet the reality of Russian involvement in Africa indicates something else: anticolonial rhetoric alone is insufficient to justify campism — or to deliver genuine liberation.

Cold War histories

During the Cold War, the Soviet Union, driven by its rivalry with the capitalist bloc, played a notable role in decolonization movements across many African countries. It provided key resources for liberation struggles: weapons, economic support, and ideology. At the same time, tens of thousands of students from across Africa received education in the USSR and other Eastern Bloc countries, further strengthening the appeal and influence of the Soviet project.

After the collapse of the USSR, Moscow’s presence in Africa declined sharply as the new Russian state faced internal crises. From the mid-2000s into the 2010s, the Kremlin gradually began to rebuild ties with previous partners on the continent. Its return to Africa, however, became a prominent part of public discourse in 2019, when Russia hosted its first Russia–Africa Forum in Sochi. There, President Vladimir Putin declared the opening of a “new page” in Russian–African relations. Western media captured the moment with headlines such as “Putin just took a victory lap in the Middle East. Now he’s turning to Africa” and “The Russia-Africa summit, Moscow’s show of ambition in the region”. Amid growing isolation in the Global North and a desire to be perceived as a real superpower, the Kremlin began actively promoting its influence in the Global South, particularly in Africa.

Conventional hard-power tools

Since 2019, the scope of Russia's cooperation with African countries has noticeably expanded: Moscow has deepened its relations with historical partners and expanded its network among the new regimes facing regional and international isolation, as well as non-aligned regimes seeking to diversify their partnerships.

Economically speaking, Moscow’s presence in Africa remains limited — Russia simply does not have the capital to compete with other regional actors. While Russian media praised the historical maximum of the total trade value between Moscow and African countries which constituted almost $28 billion in 2025, for China and the EU this index exceeds $300 billion, while that of the U.S.UAE and India were over $100 billion each. But Russia has managed to carve out an economic niche for itself by exporting nuclear energy projects. As the demand for energy is growing along with the region’s population, Moscow is offering its own expertise, education for future personnel, and the nuclear fuel to run these long-term projects.

Another dimension of Russia’s strategic economic influence in the region concerns food security. In 2025, Agroexport, the Russian agency for agricultural exports, claimed that Moscow had become Africa’s largest grain supplier, accounting for a third of the continent’s wheat market. In total, Russia exports grain to around 40 African countries, with demand from Algeria, Libya, Kenya, Morocco, Tunisia, and Tanzania increasing significantly in recent years. Against the backdrop of disrupted supply chains and rising prices — driven in part by Russia’s war in Ukraine, as well as climate shocks and the lingering effects of the pandemic — some African governments have accused the Kremlin of exploiting this dependency for political leverage.

However, the backbone of Russia’s presence in the region is arms exports. In January Rosoboronexport — Russia’s agency for military sales — claimed that its exports to African countries reached the scale of the Cold War times, when the Soviet Union was responsible for 40% of supplies to the continent. One cannot be certain if this reflects the reality or rather wishful thinking by the Kremlin, given the limitations in Russia’s military exports capacities amid its war in Ukraine. Nevertheless, Moscow remains the critical actor on the continent’s arms market. According to SIPRI, in 2020–2024, Russia accounted for 21% of African imports of major arms, putting it ahead of China (18%) and the U.S. (16%).

‘Military presence with a human face’

In addition to conventional arms exports, for years, Russia has supplied its African partners with the services of the private military company (PMC) Wagner. The so-called ‘Wagner Group’ has now been formally absorbed by the Russian Defense Ministry and rebranded as Africa Corps (perhaps a reference to the German “Afrikakorps” in World War 2), following the PMC’s founder’s, Evgeny Prigozhin, death in 2023.

A package deal from the Russian “military instructors” — the vague mercenary job description — includes not only the security services, but also political consulting on topics such as disinformation campaigns and staged protests, as well as the management of lucrative and extractivist contracts in an array of industries from gold and other minerals to lumber.

Case in point is the Central African Republic (CAR): its president Faustin-Archange Touadéra was the first African leader to openly welcome the Russian PMC as far back as 2018. Formally, the CAR leader invited “Russian instructors” to support the national army in its fight against local rebels. In reality, they became the guarantor of Touadéra’s own hold on power. For instance, they supported the 2023 constitutional referendum, the results of which allowed the president to remain in office without term limitations. Currently the “political advisors” in CAR are promoting a foreign agent law — the Kremlin’s signature repressive mechanism it has employed against its own opponents for 15 years and has exported to the friendly authoritarian regimes in decline. The Russian-backed organizations also conduct aggressive social media campaigns in the CAR, intimidating critics of the regime, with AFP sources suggesting the Russian forces even track the president’s opponents with drones.

In reports from other countries that have experienced Russian military instructors’ presence, civilians have accused them of killings, torture and sexualized violence. Former Wagner Telegram channels are full of evidence of routine executions and desecration of corpses, especially in Mali. This is what Russian propaganda calls “military presence with a human face”.

On top of that, recent reports indicate that young African men who travel to Russia for education or what they believe to be well-paid civilian jobs are instead sent to the front lines in Ukraine. Moscow views them as a source of cheap labour, essential for sustaining its war effort. Often forced to sign contracts in a language they do not understand, thousands of men from at least 36 African countries are used as cannon fodder at the frontline. INPACT investigation identified over 1,400 Africans recruited by Russia, however, additional reports suggest higher numbers. Within months of arrival, over 300 are said to have been killed. Those who survive frequently receive no financial compensation, face racism from their commanders, and struggle to leave. With limited international scrutiny, the Kremlin has effectively built a transnational human trafficking network, a system of exploitation, capitalizing on the economic vulnerabilities of the very people it claims to support in their anti-colonial struggle.

Anticolonialism-washing

Such hybrid operations appear to be the perfect fit for the struggling autocracies among Moscow’s historical partners as well as the young regimes that find themselves limited in their choice of partners. For instance, the Sahelian juntas — the regimes in Mali, Burkina Faso and Niger — heavily rely on anticolonial sentiments. Needless to say, those sentiments originate from the real grievances of the people against the centuries-long exploitation, with France still conducting years-long military operations in the region until recently. The young regimes appeal to this inequality and unfairness, refuse cooperation with the former metropoles. They commonly end up turning towards Russia.

The Kremlin first takes the opportunity to promote a fitting image. According to the Kremlin-disseminated conspiracy theories, the U.S. runs biological laboratories across the continent and Western companies produce deadly vaccines. The Kremlin appeals to the Global South by promoting BRICS as a project battling the American hegemony. Putin openly condemns the “shameful” history of western colonialism and consistently calls for creation of the Palestinian state.

Various propaganda outlets assist the Kremlin in spreading these narratives: Sputnik Africa, RT, TASS, as well as the recently established news agency African Initiative. Its content is translated into all the major languages spoken on the continent. The staff includes members from the former Wagner PMC network. African Initiative is headed by Artem Kureev. Reports suggest he is an operative of the Fifth Directorate dealing with the foreign affairs of the Russian internal intelligence agency (FSB).

In the countries where Russian influence is already quite strong, propaganda campaigns to shape the public opinion on the ground have been handed over to local organizations and opinion leaders. At the second Russia-Africa forum, the president of Burkina Faso, Ibrahim Traoré, praised Moscow’s support of African sovereignty and even compared the modern history of Russia with African countries by calling both “the forgotten peoples of the world”. On a lower-tier, a Russia-affiliated Ivorian NGO called Total Support for Vladimir Putin in Africa (SOTOVPOA) even launched an international prize in his name, honouring what the founder of the NGO called Putin’s “liberating act for Africa.” Furthermore, the African Initiative organizes press tours of the occupied Ukrainian territories, during which bloggers from Sahelian regimes discuss the “reconstructions of new regions” and receive training in conducting information campaigns.

Against campism

As outlined above, Russia’s presence in Africa has little to do with the liberation of local populations and is instead focused on sustaining partner regimes. War crimes, extractivism, and the reinforcement of autocratic rule point to the underlying motives behind the Kremlin’s return to the continent — motives that are not so different from those of other neocolonial powers.

Many questions remain: Is the pretend-anticolonialism, supported by propaganda efforts and disinformation campaigns, convincing anyone? Are the protests depicting crowds with the Russian and Wagner flags staged or is there genuine support for Russia in Africa? Do a majority of people recognize the influence Russia has on their own governments, elections, economies? The generalized sociological data provides limited information: the latest edition of the Afrobarometer study shows significant cross-country variation. In Mali, one of Moscow’s essential newer partners, the positive public perception of Russia’s economic and political influence increased from 56% in 2019–2021 to 88% in 2023–2025. Meanwhile, in Guinea — no stranger to Russia’s business activities — the positive opinion of Russian influence dropped from 63% to 49% in respective years. Simultaneously, an average positive perception of Russia in Africa (36%) is lower than that of China (62%), the U.S. (52%), EU (50%) or India (39%).

The results of the Kremlin’s fight to win hearts and minds on the ground remain inconsistent, although it is clear that some groups are benefiting from its presence. At the same time, Moscow appears to be taking competition of great-powers in the region seriously. This is evident in the growing number of the Kremlin’s soft power institutions (such as Russian Houses), its expanding security presence, and investments in long-term infrastructure projects.

In the global context, the Kremlin’s cynical instrumentalization of anti-colonial narratives — including its claimed efforts to “liberate” African societies — appears to have achieved limited but notable traction among segments of the left. Beyond Kremlin-affiliated propagandists, this position is echoed by anti-intellectualist commentators and online influencers, as well as whole political parties (such as the German DKP), who denounce Western imperialism while overlooking the anti-democratic and reactionary nature of its geopolitical rivals. In this framing, Russia’s activities in Africa are often invoked as evidence to support such views.

This logic is not only deeply Western-centric — within a campist framework, only the West is seen as possessing the agency to commit significant crimes — but also quite dangerous. It undermines progressive struggles against regimes that present themselves as opponents of the West, whether in Russia, Iran or Venezuela. Meanwhile, despite ostensibly belonging to opposing camps, conservative elites in both Russia and the United States alike continue to pursue overlapping interests, by scheming over their own fascist International and shaking hands in Alaska. In the current global system shaped by capital and enforced by states, only genuinely internationalist and anti-colonial movements grounded in solidarity with people across both “camps” offer a viable path toward the liberation of the exploited class.

Sasha Fokina is a journalist and analyst focusing on anti-colonial struggles, wars, and autocracies across the Global South, as well as on feminist and migration issues.