Colonial Echoes in a Modern Summit: Macron’s Conduct in Kenya 

French President Emmanuel Macron is facing backlash after interrupting a panel at the Africa Forward Summit in Kenya to demand silence from the audience. Macron stormed the stage to rebuke the audience for what he described as a “total lack of respect,” accusing them of disrupting the presentation by artists and young entrepreneurs.

Appearing visibly frustrated by the noise in the room, Macron abruptly walked up to the stage, asked the speaker to hand him the microphone, and announced that he would “restore order.” Addressing the audience in English, he criticised attendees for talking over the speakers and creating disruptions during the session, instructing those who did not wish to listen to take their conversations outside.

Beyond the disruption itself, it was the tone that unsettled many.

Macron addressed the majority-African audience as though he were disciplining school children. The posture was paternalistic and condescending. For many Africans watching, it carried the unmistakable undertones of a colonial attitude that Europe insists no longer exists.

Ahead of the summit, the French president had already sparked outrage after declaring during a joint news conference with Kenyan President William Ruto that “we are the true Pan-Africanists.” The statement was not merely tone-deaf; it was historically absurd. France—a colonial power that brutalised vast parts of the African continent and spent over a century extracting wealth, suppressing self-determination and violently maintaining imperial control—cannot, by any coherent definition, claim ownership over Pan-Africanism.

That statement reveals more than mere arrogance: it reflects the extraordinary confidence with which former colonial powers continue to speak about Africa, often assuming the authority to define African liberation, African unity and even African political consciousness for Africans themselves. 

Macron’s comments were made at a summit specifically designed to rehabilitate France’s image on the continent at a time when anti-French sentiment is growing rapidly across Africa, particularly in West Africa. That context is extremely important.

Macron was in Kenya for the Africa Forward Summit, an event intended to showcase France’s recalibrated approach towards Africa.  Paris describes this approach as a “partnership of equals.” The summit was aimed at expanding France’s economic partnerships and securing investment opportunities in sectors such as energy, agriculture, and artificial intelligence. During the gathering, he announced a $27 billion investment package across the continent.

Officially, the message was one of cooperation, but Macron’s conduct exposed the central contradiction at the heart of France’s relationship with Africa. France wants renewed influence on the continent but refuses to fully confront the historical realities that shaped that relationship in the first place.

Macron’s conduct is especially outrageous given the scale and violence of French colonialism in Africa.

French colonial rule on the continent lasted roughly 147 years, beginning with the invasion of Algeria in 1830 and effectively ending with Djibouti’s independence in 1977. During that period, France colonised 21 African countries, including Algeria, Senegal, Mali, Niger, Madagascar, and Djibouti. Even today, the continued dominance of the French language across large parts of Africa stands as a lingering reminder of that imperial reach.

France occupied over a third of the African continent through military conquest, political repression, forced labour and economic extraction. Entire communities were displaced, massacred, or psychologically fractured under colonial rule. Millions of Africans died during French colonial campaigns between the nineteenth and twentieth centuries, while generations were left carrying the economic and psychological consequences of occupation.

Yet, discussions about France and Africa are constantly framed around “moving forward,” as though history is merely symbolic rather than structural. Even more damning is the fact that colonialism never truly ended; it simply evolved with time.

For decades after formal independence movements swept across Africa, France maintained what became known as Françafrique — a sprawling network of political, military, and economic influence designed to preserve French dominance in its former colonies. French troops remained stationed across multiple African countries. French-backed political elites often maintained power with Paris’ support. Economic dependency was carefully preserved.

In recent years, however, that arrangement has begun to fracture. Hence, the Africa Summit; France’s latest attempt at regaining relevance in its former colonies.

Countries such as Mali, Niger, and Burkina Faso have openly challenged French influence, accusing France of maintaining a patronising and exploitative relationship with its former colonies. Anti-French protests have intensified across the Sahel, while military governments in the region have increasingly positioned France as a symbol of continued foreign interference. France has since withdrawn troops from several of these countries and completed its military withdrawal from Senegal last year.

This is precisely why Macron’s behaviour in Nairobi resonated so negatively.

At a time when France is actively attempting to repair its standing in Africa, Macron still spoke with the instinctive authority of a leader who believes Africa is something to be managed rather than engaged with as an equal. His conduct exposed the limits of France’s so-called diplomatic reset. More importantly, it revealed how disconnected many Western powers remain from the historical trauma they created.

The confidence with which Macron declared himself a “true Pan-Africanist” suggests not only historical ignorance but also the belief that Africans themselves can be distanced from their own political memory. Former colonial powers have spent decades encouraging Africans to “move on” from colonialism while resisting meaningful accountability for the consequences of that history.

Earlier this year, Ghana proposed a United Nations resolution formally recognising transatlantic slavery as the “gravest crime against humanity” while also calling for reparative justice.

The United States opposed the framing, with U.S. delegate Dan Negrea criticising what he described as the “cynical usage of historical wrongs” to influence modern resource distribution. Similarly, the European Union’s representative Gabriella Michaelidou raised “legal and factual” concerns regarding historical accountability and reparations.

Western powers consistently encourage Africa to embrace “partnership,” “investment,” and “shared futures,” yet become deeply uncomfortable whenever discussions shift towards historical responsibility. The expectation appears to be that Africa should remain open to foreign economic interests while suppressing political memory.

But the importance of political memory cannot be overstated.

Senegalese political analyst Gilles Yabi recently noted that a new generation of Africans wants to “turn the page” on colonialism and post-colonial influence. That instinct is profoundly dangerous because Africans are still living within the realities created by colonialism. The effects remain embedded in African economies, legal systems, in the persistent difficulty of Africa’s democratic state building efforts, and in social psychology. The instinctive deference many African leaders still display towards Western powers did not emerge naturally; it was produced through centuries of conquest, dependency, and political conditioning.

For that reason, forgetting history is a vulnerability.

Macron’s comments are politically significant beyond mere controversy; they expose the enduring imbalance within Africa’s relationship with the West. Even when speaking the language of “co-investment” and “equal partnership,” Western powers often continue to approach Africa from a position of assumed superiority.

At the summit, Macron declared that “the days of offering assistance are behind us” and that France now seeks “co-investment” instead. America promotes a similar “trade not aid” framework in its relationship with Africa, presenting itself as a partner rather than a benefactor. Yet both the United States and France frequently undermine that supposed equality through their conduct, diplomatic posture, and continued unwillingness to treat African states with genuine political respect.

Africa’s own culture also contributes to sustaining this imbalance.

Many African governments still approach Western powers with excessive caution and deference, even in situations where disrespect is blatant. That diplomatic softness — itself a lingering consequence of colonial conditioning — creates an environment in which foreign leaders feel increasingly comfortable speaking to Africans in openly patronising ways. Africa cannot continue operating from that posture.

Because if Macron can speak to an African audience in Kenya — at a summit supposedly celebrating Africa’s strength, opportunity and strategic importance — with that level of condescension, then Africans are right to question what France truly means when it speaks about “partnership.”

Decolonisation does not start and end with removing foreign flags or securing investment deals. It requires political confidence, historical consciousness, and the willingness to reject disrespect even when it comes wrapped in diplomacy.

Macron’s conduct in Nairobi should be understood as more than an isolated instance of arrogance. It was a reminder — perhaps an unintentional one — that the colonial mindset has not disappeared as thoroughly as the West would like Africa to believe.