China in Africa: Partnership without conditions or dependency reimagined?

By Pius Lemi Pius

China’s approach to Africa has long been framed as pragmatic, non-intrusive, and mutually beneficial. 

Unlike the European Union and the United States whose financial assistance is often tied to conditions related to governance, human rights, and democratic reforms, Beijing has positioned itself as a partner that respects sovereignty and avoids interference in domestic political affairs.

At the center of this relationship lies a clear but narrow political expectation: adherence to the “One China” policy. 

For most African states, this has been a manageable trade-off. However, the Kingdom of Eswatini remains a notable exception. By maintaining diplomatic relations with Taiwan, it effectively excludes itself from the full benefits of Chinese engagement. 

This raises a broader question about sovereignty: to what extent should external partners influence the diplomatic choices of African nations?

In principle, sovereignty implies the freedom of states to determine their own political and diplomatic paths. Yet in practice, international partnerships are rarely without expectations. 

China’s non-interference doctrine may appear appealing—particularly to governments wary of external scrutiny—but it does not necessarily mean the absence of influence. 

Rather, it reflects a different model of engagement, one that prioritizes economic cooperation over political conditionality.

For some African leaders, this model offers a welcome alternative. Without pressure to reform governance systems or uphold specific political standards, cooperation with China can proceed with fewer domestic constraints. However, this very flexibility raises concerns. 

In contexts where governance challenges persist, the absence of conditionalities may reduce incentives for reform and accountability.

China’s expanding economic footprint through infrastructure financing, trade agreements, and policies such as zero-tariff access for certain exports, presents both opportunity and risk. 

On the one hand, it opens doors for African products to access one of the world’s largest markets. On the other hand, it exposes structural weaknesses within many African economies, particularly their continued reliance on raw material exports.

History offers important lessons. The 1975 Lomé Convention between African, Caribbean, and Pacific (ACP) states and the European Economic Community granted preferential access to European markets, alongside financial and technical assistance. 

While the agreement was designed to support development, its long-term impact was mixed. Many African economies remained dependent on commodity exports, with limited progress in industrialization or diversification.

The Cotonou Agreement, signed in 2000, attempted to address these shortcomings by introducing reciprocity and embedding principles such as human rights, the rule of law, and good governance. 

Yet these very conditions were often criticized by African leaders as intrusive, reinforcing perceptions of unequal power dynamics.

Today, China’s model appears to offer a departure from this history with fewer political conditions, faster implementation, and a focus on infrastructure and trade. 

But the absence of explicit conditionalities does not eliminate asymmetry. Economic power itself becomes a form of influence. As long as African economies remain structurally dependent, the balance of decision-making will inevitably tilt toward those who control capital and markets.

Zero-tariff policies, for instance, are not inherently neutral. They can stimulate exports, but they can also reinforce patterns where Africa supplies raw materials while importing finished goods. 

Without deliberate strategies to build industrial capacity, strengthen supply chains, and invest in value addition, such arrangements risk deepening dependency rather than reducing it.

This is not solely a question of external actors. The responsibility ultimately lies with African governments. Past agreements with Europe did not fail simply because of their design, but also because of limited domestic follow-through, weak institutions, inadequate investment in diversification, and a tendency to prioritize short-term gains over long-term transformation.

The same risk applies today. If African countries do not actively pursue industrialization, expand intra-African trade, and leverage partnerships to build competitive industries, they may once again find themselves locked into unequal economic relationships regardless of whether their partner is Brussels, Washington, or Beijing.

China’s engagement should therefore be understood not as a solution, but as an opportunity, one that must be strategically managed. 

Blaming external partners for dependency may be politically convenient, but it obscures the deeper challenge: building resilient, diversified economies capable of shaping their own development paths.

In the end, the question is not whether China’s policy is better or worse than that of Western partners. It is whether Africa can use these relationships on its own terms to break from historical patterns and define a more self-directed economic future.