By Sheriff Bojang Jr
Great Britain, under Prime Minister Keir Starmer, promised deeper engagement and a new strategy. What emerged was a series of initiatives without a unifying vision.
When Keir Starmer entered Downing Street in July 2024, Africa was supposed to feature in Labour’s effort to rebuild Britain’s global relationships after years of aid cuts, Brexit distractions and political turmoil under successive Conservative governments. Officials spoke of new partnerships, deeper engagement and a more strategic approach to a continent of growing economic and geopolitical importance.
Those expectations were reinforced by repeated references to a forthcoming Africa strategy. It never arrived.
Starmer’s resignation on Monday brought an abrupt end to a premiership that had promised to transform Britain’s political and economic ties with Africa, prompting a broader assessment of what the party that holds the parliamentary majority actually achieved on the continent during its time in office.
“While Labour initially spoke of resetting relations with Africa, the continent never emerged as a major foreign policy priority under Starmer,” says Jervin Naidoo, political analyst at Oxford Economics Africa.
The government’s focus, he says, was largely directed towards domestic economic challenges, the war in Ukraine, tensions in the Middle East and rebuilding ties with Europe.
Lack of clear vision
“As a result, engagement with Africa was relatively limited and lacked a clear strategic vision,” adds Naidoo.
For Andrew E Yaw Tchie, associate fellow at the Royal United Services Institute and senior fellow at the Norwegian Institute of International Affairs, Labour’s record is more mixed.
“At the beginning, there was a pivot towards Africa,” he says. “Not necessarily a major focus, but there was an effort, particularly around Kenya and Sudan.”
Nor was Britain absent from the continent. The government remained active in Sudan, maintained close security ties with Kenya, pursued trade and investment opportunities, and deepened engagement with traditional partners such as South Africa. David Lammy, in particular, invested significant time in African affairs during his tenure as foreign secretary in the first year of the Starmer government.
One initiative frequently cited by supporters of Labour’s record was the Chagos Islands agreement with Mauritius, which Naidoo describes as the most significant Africa-related policy of Starmer’s premiership.
“The most notable Africa-related initiative was the Chagos Islands agreement with Mauritius,” he says. “However, the deal became politically contentious in the UK and was subsequently cancelled, limiting its potential to serve as a foundation for a broader UK-Africa reset.”
The fate of the agreement reflected a broader problem. Even Labour’s most significant interventions struggled to become building blocks for the wider reset ministers had promised.
To add to the difficulty, Starmer chose in February 2025 to cut UK aid from 0.5% to 0.3% of GNI by 2027, explicitly to fund higher defence spending; largely driven by Russia’s invasion of Ukraine. FCDO’s provisional 2025 statistics say total UK ODA fell from $18.5bn in 2024 to $17.2bn in 2025.
His cuts take the UK Foreign Commonwealth and Development Office (FCDO) bilateral Africa aid from about £1.55bn in 2024/25 to roughly £677m by 2028/29 – a fall of about £874m, or 56%.
Trade. For who?
If Labour’s Africa policy had a central flaw, it was its failure to turn activity into strategy. Officials spent much of Starmer’s premiership working on an Africa policy. Consultations took place, and priorities were debated. But the promised strategy never emerged, leaving African governments and stakeholders without a clear sense of Britain’s long-term ambitions.
Tchie argues the problem was not a lack of ideas.
“There was an Africa strategy,” he says. “The problem was that it was never implemented. It was never really pushed forward.”
The proposed framework lacked clear priorities and struggled to define what Britain was trying to achieve, adds Tchie.
“For the most part, the strategy focused on trade,” he says. “But trade with whom? What were the priorities?”
As crises elsewhere mounted, Africa slipped down the agenda. Ukraine dominated security discussions, Gaza consumed diplomatic attention, and rebuilding ties with Europe became a central focus.
“I think the government pivoted away from that overall strategy,” says Tchie.
The vacuum was quickly filled by migration, an issue that consistently shaped Britain’s engagement with the continent.
Labour scrapped the controversial Rwanda deportation scheme shortly after taking office, but immigration remained one of the most politically sensitive issues facing the government. In March, the government halted study visas for nationals of Sudan, Cameroon, Myanmar and Afghanistan, citing a rise in asylum claims from students who had entered through legal routes. Home Secretary Shabana Mahmood said the restrictions were aimed at tackling what ministers described as visa abuse.
The government earlier signalled a broader crackdown, warning that countries deemed uncooperative on migrant returns could face visa restrictions, with Angola, Namibia and the Democratic Republic of the Congo among the first under consideration.
The measures fuelled accusations of mixed messaging. As Labour ministers spoke of partnership and investment, visa restrictions became the most visible face of Britain’s Africa policy.
Nigeria, Morocco and the search for a policy
Nigeria and Morocco perhaps best illustrate both the strengths and contradictions of Starmer’s Africa policy.
As Africa’s largest economy, Nigeria remained central to Labour’s engagement, with UK officials promoting investment and deepening ties with influential political and business figures. Critics, however, questioned whether commercial interests were too often taking precedence over governance concerns, pointing to London’s willingness to engage alleged kleptocrats while continuing to champion transparency and accountability.
Morocco, meanwhile, secured one of the biggest diplomatic victories of Starmer’s premiership when Britain endorsed Rabat’s autonomy proposal for Western Sahara, marking a significant shift in UK policy. The move was welcomed in Morocco but criticised by supporters of the Polisario Front and watched closely in Algeria and across North Africa.
The two cases, say observers, highlighted the central tension in Labour’s Africa policy. The government was capable of striking deals, making diplomatic interventions and cultivating strategic relationships. What was never explained was how those moves fitted into a larger plan.
Africa never made the itinerary
Starmer travelled the world as prime minister. Africa never got a dedicated visit. While he attended international summits alongside African leaders, he left office without making a bilateral trip to a continent Labour had promised to re-engage with.
For Naidoo, the message was difficult to ignore.
“The absence of a dedicated bilateral visit is significant, both symbolically and diplomatically,” he says. “High-level visits remain an important signal of political commitment, particularly at a time when African countries have a growing range of international partners to choose from.”
The absence was all the more striking given Labour’s repeated promises of a reset. While ministers and officials travelled across the continent, the prime minister never made Africa a destination in its own right, reinforcing perceptions that other foreign policy priorities consistently took precedence.
“When other powers are increasing their engagement, not showing up carries its own message,” says Tchie.
Naidoo believes the missed visit reflects a broader pattern that defined Labour’s approach to the continent.
“Starmer’s Africa legacy is likely to be defined by unrealised ambitions, where promises of renewed engagement were ultimately overshadowed by domestic pressures and competing geopolitical crises.”