From Zimbabwe to Washington: Africa’s Mineral Nationalism

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n the heat and dust of Zimbabwe’s lithium belt, trucks that once rolled straight to port now sit idle, waiting for new paperwork that no one has fully written yet. For miners, this looks like disruption. For Harare, it is more like a test. How far can an African government push global buyers when the world suddenly needs what lies under its soil?

Across the continent, from cobalt in Congo to manganese in the Sahel, similar questions are being asked in quieter rooms. This time, the answer is not simply “export more and hope for the best.” Not this time, at least not entirely.

From bans to bargaining chips

Zimbabwe has been edging toward this moment for years. In 2022 it banned exports of unprocessed lithium ore, arguing that shipping rocks abroad made little sense for a country trying to move up the value chain. Then came the June 2025 announcement: from January 2027, lithium concentrates would also be stopped at the border unless they took the form of processed products like lithium sulphate. Last week, Harare went further, suspending exports of all raw minerals and lithium concentrates already in transit, citing “ongoing malpractices” and the need to tighten control over national resources.

On paper, this sounds radical. In practice, it is a bargaining position. The government knows that Chinese, European and other investors have already sunk serious money into Zimbabwe’s lithium sector. Stopping exports concentrates minds. It forces companies to accelerate domestic processing plans and gives Harare more space to renegotiate terms on royalties, tax and local content.

Zimbabwe is not alone. The Democratic Republic of Congo has introduced export quotas and temporary suspensions on cobalt intermediates, disrupting flows to Chinese refineries that dominate global supply. With about 70 percent of global cobalt production coming from the DRC, even short interruptions send ripples through the battery industry. Other African states, from Namibia to Ghana, have experimented with higher royalties, local‑beneficiation rules or outright bans on unprocessed mineral exports. Some measures get watered down, others quietly reversed. But the trend line is clear enough: raw minerals are no longer treated as a one‑way ticket out of the continent. They are becoming bargaining chips.

That was the easy part. Turning bans into lasting leverage is something else.

Washington’s critical minerals charm offensive

While African governments recalibrate, the United States has launched its own critical minerals push on the continent. Washington now officially lists around 60 minerals – from lithium and cobalt to rare earths and graphite – as “critical” for its energy transition and defense industries. Early this month it announced a new strategic reserve initiative and hosted a ministerial with African partners, a clear sign that African deposits are seen as part of a wider security puzzle.

In the Sahel, this shows up as what some analysts call security‑for‑minerals diplomacy. Senior US officials have shuttled between capitals like Bamako and Niamey, offering equipment packages, intelligence sharing and counter‑terrorism support, while quietly mapping manganese, uranium and other deposits that could feed American supply chains. The language is one of partnership and resilience. The subtext is access and influence in a region where France has been pushed out and Russia’s Africa Corps is trying to move in.

It is not only the US. The U.S. Chamber of Commerce now speaks openly of “strategic ground”, calling for long‑term critical minerals partnerships that support African value addition and midstream refining, not just extraction. That sounds encouraging on paper, and some of it is genuine. But African officials have heard many such promises before.

So, a basic question hangs in the air: is this new diplomacy about correcting old imbalances, or about dressing up familiar extraction models in the language of climate and security? Many African leaders will try to treat it as both an opportunity and a risk. What they are asking for now is not simply aid, nor another training mission. They want hard guarantees on processing, jobs and infrastructure staying on African soil.

Between Beijing and Brussels: leverage or new dependency?

Mineral nationalism does not play out in a vacuum. For two decades, China has built an integrated presence across Africa’s copper, cobalt and lithium belts, from the DRC’s Copperbelt to Zimbabwe’s lithium fields. Chinese companies like CMOC and Huayou Cobalt control major assets and have helped finance roads, power lines and processing facilities that Western investors often considered too risky. In battery metals alone, Chinese refiners still handle nearly 70 percent of global capacity, a share that makes every African export decision instantly geopolitical.

Now the European Union has entered the race with its own Critical Raw Materials Act and “strategic partnerships” in countries such as Namibia and Zambia, promising cleaner supply chains and more stringent environmental standards. India and Gulf states are also testing the waters, offering different blends of investment, technology and political support.

On good days, African governments manage to play these suitors off against one another. Congo’s cobalt curbs, for example, exposed how dependent Chinese processors had become on a single source and created space for Kinshasa to demand better terms. Zimbabwe’s lithium gambit is similarly aimed at forcing investors – many of them Chinese – to accelerate domestic refining plans. Some deals are starting to include clearer commitments on local processing, training and infrastructure.

On bad days, though, the picture looks less like leverage and more like a new dependency cycle. Opaque licensing, politically connected intermediaries and security bargains can hollow out sovereignty just as surely as old‑style concessions did. In parts of the Sahel, mining rights and counter‑insurgency operations now blur into each other, with foreign partners providing drones and advisors while securing access to sub‑soil wealth. That mix is unstable. It can deepen resentment on the ground and make mines themselves targets in wider conflicts.