Cemal SANGU
Tüm YazılarıEmpires do not always begin to decline when they lose their borders; sometimes their decline begins when they lose their place in the memory of others.
France today finds itself looking into two different mirrors. In one, it sees the streets of Paris, social unrest and political tensions. In the other, it sees a vast African landscape marked by growing dissent, departing military forces and societies reassessing relationships shaped by the colonial past. These images are not identical. They emerge from different histories, social expectations and political struggles. Yet both reflect the winds of a changing world, unsettling established orders and challenging familiar assumptions.
Across several European cities, young people, workers and different social groups have taken to the streets. From student protests and the Yellow Vests movement in France to demonstrations driven by diverse grievances elsewhere in Europe, questions have resurfaced about the relationship between political institutions and the societies they represent. The protests witnessed in countries such as Belgium, Greece, Italy, Spain and Albania cannot be treated as manifestations of a single movement. Nevertheless, they raise a common question: to what extent can established political systems respond to the expectations of changing societies?
For France, this question extends beyond its own borders. In Africa, long regarded by Paris as one of the principal foundations of its global influence, traditional relationships are increasingly being questioned by new generations. On one side stand the social protests of Europe; on the other, Africa’s demands for sovereignty, equality and greater control over its own future. It would be misleading to attribute these developments to a single cause. Yet both remind us that power cannot be preserved indefinitely through military capacity, economic weight or diplomatic tradition alone. It also depends on acceptance, trust and the ability to understand a changing world.
Has Colonialism Ended—or Has It Changed Its Form?
France’s story in Africa is not merely a story of colonialism confined to the past. It is also a story of political influence, economic relationships, military cooperation and cultural presence that continued, in different forms, after independence.
The French occupation of Algeria in 1830 marked a decisive stage in France’s expansion across the continent. Over time, Africa became an important pillar of Paris’s claim to global power. Colonial rule was not limited to controlling territory and exploiting natural resources. It also left enduring marks on education systems, administrative structures, trade routes and cultural life. For France, Africa represented not only economic opportunity but also a means of strengthening its position in international competition and reinforcing its identity as a major power.
Following the Second World War, the growth of independence movements and the increasing unsustainability of colonial rule began to transform the political map. The 1960s witnessed the emergence of numerous independent African states. Yet political independence did not automatically dissolve every economic, institutional and cultural relationship inherited from the colonial era.
This is where the concept of Françafrique becomes particularly relevant. The term is commonly used to describe the privileged political, economic and security relationships that continued between France and many of its former colonies after independence. Military cooperation, monetary and financial arrangements, the activities of French companies, the institutional prominence of the French language and relationships with local political elites have all formed part of this wider debate.
It would be simplistic, of course, to portray these relationships as a single, centrally controlled system that remained unchanged over time. African countries have different histories, political priorities and approaches to France. Nevertheless, a fundamental question remains: once a country has achieved political independence, does the true meaning of that independence not deepen as it gains greater freedom to determine its own economic and strategic choices?
Colonialism sometimes survives in the form of a uniform, sometimes through a trade agreement, and sometimes through a curriculum that determines the language in which a child is educated. Exercising influence over a country’s territory is one form of power; shaping its collective memory, economic choices and vision of the future is another. Political flags may change, but dependencies that constrain national decision-making can endure long afterwards.
Perhaps the most enduring legacy of colonialism is the uncertainty it leaves over the extent to which a people can truly determine their own future.
The Sahel and the Fracturing of an Old Order
Political transformations in Mali, Burkina Faso and Niger in recent years have exposed a serious rupture in France’s traditional sphere of influence. Following military coups, the authorities in these countries moved to redefine their relationships with France. The withdrawal of French troops, the termination of military arrangements and diplomatic tensions with Paris became visible signs of a broader transformation.
These developments cannot be explained solely by Russia’s growing presence or the emergence of other external actors. The Sahel is undoubtedly an important arena of global competition. Russia’s security engagement, China’s economic weight and the diplomatic initiatives of other countries are reshaping the regional balance. Yet the rise of external powers cannot substitute for an understanding of the demands and choices of local societies.
For years, France justified its military presence in the Sahel primarily through the objectives of counterterrorism and regional stability. However, persistent insecurity despite prolonged operations, the spread of violence into new areas and the failure to establish a lasting sense of security in everyday life increasingly called the effectiveness of this approach into question. As the gap between the stated purpose of military intervention and the realities on the ground widened, the legitimacy of that presence came under growing scrutiny.
An important distinction must be made here. The complexity of the security crisis does not justify assigning all responsibility to a single country. Instability in the Sahel has historical, economic, social and political roots. The capacity of local governments, the activities of armed groups, climate pressures, poverty and regional rivalries all interact in complicated ways. Nevertheless, it has also become clear that external military interventions alone cannot resolve deep-rooted political and social problems.
This is precisely where France encountered one of its most significant difficulties: military capability could not replace political trust. A country may provide security assistance, but if it fails to recognise a society’s desire to determine its own future, that assistance may gradually be perceived as interference. A presence initially accepted within a framework of cooperation can become a source of controversy when its results fall short of expectations.
This is one of the central lessons of the Sahel. African societies are increasingly asking not only which external power can assist them, but also under what conditions that assistance is offered and how much influence they themselves exercise over the decisions that affect their future.
Resources, Language and Memory: The Invisible Ties
The enduring legacy of colonialism cannot be found solely in military bases or diplomatic relationships. The distribution of economic resources, financial arrangements and cultural heritage are equally central to the debate.
Africa’s oil, uranium, cocoa, minerals and strategic trade routes have long attracted the attention of global powers. France’s economic relationships with former colonies, the activities of French companies and monetary arrangements have remained subjects of debate after independence. Discussions surrounding the CFA franc, in particular, have raised questions about how arrangements defended in terms of monetary stability and economic cooperation should be assessed in relation to national sovereignty and financial autonomy.
Here, too, a balanced approach is essential. It would be misleading to reduce the complex consequences of monetary and economic arrangements between countries to a single explanation based on colonialism. Nevertheless, legitimate questions remain: at what cost is economic stability achieved? Where are key decisions made? And how are the benefits derived from natural resources distributed among the societies concerned? These are not merely questions about the past; they are also part of Africa’s search for greater autonomy in the future.
Language represents a deeper and quieter dimension of this relationship. French remains an important instrument of education, public administration, literature and international communication in many African countries. At the same time, it carries the historical legacy of educational and administrative systems established during colonial rule. To regard the French language in Africa solely as an instrument of oppression would be reductive; to ignore its historical context would be equally mistaken.
A language can acquire new meanings through the creativity of those who speak it. A language introduced and institutionalised under colonial rule can become a vehicle for local literature, intellectual expression and cultural production. The central issue, however, is not the presence of one language itself, but the extent to which other languages and cultural identities are able to flourish alongside it.
When a society struggles to preserve its own language in education, culture and public life, the loss extends beyond vocabulary. An entire way of remembering and transmitting a world from one generation to the next may also be weakened. The debate over colonialism in Africa must therefore be understood not only through economic interests and military presence, but also through the right of societies to remain the authors of their own cultural identities.
The return of historical artefacts and demands for a reckoning with the colonial past form part of this same struggle over memory. Returning an artefact to the community from which it was taken is not merely a matter of changing a museum inventory. It reopens a fundamental question: who had the authority to decide in the past, and whose heritage was claimed by whom?
Memory often outlasts diplomatic protocol. Questions once silenced can re-emerge in the language of a new generation. When historical grievances are ignored rather than addressed, their burden may grow heavier, casting a longer shadow over contemporary politics.
A New Africa, New Partnerships
Africa’s changing political orientations are not simply a story of France losing influence. They also reflect a period in which countries across the continent are exploring a wider range of international options.
China’s infrastructure investment and commercial relationships, Russia’s security engagement, Türkiye’s diplomatic and economic outreach, and initiatives by other international actors are creating alternatives in Africa’s external relations. Yet this diversification should not be understood merely as the replacement of one power by another. Its deeper significance lies in the opportunity for African states to broaden their partnerships and strengthen their bargaining positions.
The emergence of new actors does not, by itself, guarantee a fairer international order. Every external partnership should be assessed according to the conditions under which it is established, its contribution to local economies, its impact on the use of resources and whether it strengthens the ability of societies to participate in decisions affecting them. Replacing old dependencies with new ones would not constitute a genuine achievement of sovereignty.
Africa’s future, therefore, cannot be explained solely through the strategic calculations of Paris, Beijing, Moscow or any other capital. Its central story will be shaped by what African societies want, the development models they choose and the role they seek to play in international affairs.
For France, this new era demands a move beyond the simple preservation of traditional spheres of influence. If Paris interprets Africa’s changing realities only through the activities of its competitors, it may struggle to understand why its own policies are being questioned. Relationships that were once treated as privileged cannot be justified indefinitely merely because they were inherited from the past.
There can still be a place for France in Africa’s future—but not on the old terms. The way forward lies not in preserving historical privileges under different names, but in recognising African countries as partners with their own priorities and choices. This requires confronting historical memory rather than diminishing it, and building economic relationships on the basis of mutual benefit.
The Streets of Europe and the Squares of Africa
The social movements unfolding within France cannot be directly equated with the political ruptures taking place in Africa. Student demonstrations, the Yellow Vests movement and protests elsewhere in Europe must be understood within their own economic, social and political contexts. Africa’s demands for sovereignty, meanwhile, are shaped by the colonial legacy, security policies, domestic politics and changing international relationships.
Nevertheless, these different developments raise a common question: how well can political systems hear the voices of changing societies?
When young people feel that their expectations for the future are not being met, when economic anxieties combine with concerns about political representation, or when communities believe they are excluded from decision-making, the streets can become places where questions unanswered by institutions find their voice. In another part of the world, similar frustrations may take the form of demands for national sovereignty, historical justice and freedom from external interference.
It is important to recognise this intellectual connection without erasing the differences between these movements. No political order can indefinitely substitute the inheritance of the past for the consent of the present. Historical achievements, longstanding alliances and diplomatic traditions may give a country an initial advantage, but they cannot replace the ability to adapt to changing circumstances.
France’s challenge, therefore, is not simply the loss of military bases or political influence in Africa. At a deeper level, it concerns the degree to which its traditional relationships continue to command acceptance—and the kind of partnerships that can be built for the future.
Paris, once at the centre of an order established across distant territories, must now listen more carefully to the voices emerging from those very societies. This does not mean reducing the entirety of France’s history to a single judgement. It does, however, mean recognising that an honest engagement with the historical legacy is a prerequisite for building more credible relationships in a changing world.
Beyond the Shadow of the Past
France faces two possible paths. The first is to regard lost influence as territory to be recovered and Africa as a space that must not be surrendered in the competition among major powers. The second is to acknowledge the burden of history and establish a different relationship—one founded on equal partnership, mutual respect, transparency and the right of African societies to determine their own futures.
The first path may prolong the shadow of the past. The second could transform the weight of history into an opportunity for the future.
No country can sustain its greatness through past victories alone. True stature lies in the ability to understand a changing world, listen to the voices of others and draw strength not from inherited privileges, but from relationships built on trust.
New actors, new partnerships and new expectations are emerging on Africa’s horizon. France, too, may have a place in that future—but no longer on the old terms. Africa does not wish to be described as someone else’s backyard; it wishes to be recognised as the owner of its own house.
History’s verdict sometimes emerges in the streets, sometimes at the ballot box, and sometimes in the silence left behind when military bases close. When demands for independence and equality begin to replace commands once echoed across distant lands, the change signifies more than a shift in power. It marks the beginning of a new way for the world to tell its own story.
And history reminds us of one enduring truth: the shadows of empires may be long, but no shadow can conceal the rising sun forever.
Dr. Cemal Sangu
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