The recent arrest of pan-African activist Kémi Séba by South African authorities has reignited debates about the movement’s true essence. As the justice system prepares to rule on his case—after his April detention while attempting an unauthorized entry into Zimbabwe—writer Venance Konan reflects on whether Séba embodies today’s pan-Africanism. This moment invites a deeper exploration of the movement’s historical roots and its current distortions.
During his arrest, Kémi Séba—also known as Stellio Gilles Robert Capo Chichi, a Beninese national holding a Nigerien diplomatic passport—was accompanied by his 18-year-old son and François Van der Merwe, a South African white supremacist nostalgic for apartheid. While Séba heads the NGO “Urgences panafricanistes,” his reputation stems from aggressive anti-French, anti-Franc CFA, and antisemitic stances, which led to his loss of French citizenship. Reports suggest he was attempting to enter Zimbabwe with Van der Merwe’s support before traveling onward, possibly to Europe. He faces prosecution in Benin for “apology of crimes against state security and incitement to rebellion” after publishing a video supporting soldiers involved in a failed December coup. An international arrest warrant has been issued against him.
Russian propaganda and support for Sahel dictatorships
Kémi Séba, Franklin Nyamsi, and Nathalie Yamb stand out as the loudest voices of pan-Africanism in Francophone Africa. Yet these figures also serve as Russia’s most vocal propagandists on the continent and staunch backers of the three autocrats leading the Alliance of Sahel States (AES)—Assimi Goïta of Mali, Ibrahim Traoré of Burkina Faso, and Abdourahamane Tiani of Niger. Is contemporary pan-Africanism merely a crusade against France in favor of Russian dominance and support for military juntas that reject democracy?
From anticolonial struggle to fractured nationalism
The pan-African movement emerged in early 20th-century Black American and Caribbean intellectual circles before inspiring anticolonial struggles across Africa. Leaders like Kwame Nkrumah of Ghana, Sékou Touré of Guinea, and Patrice Lumumba of Congo became its icons. It galvanized African students in France through the Fédération des étudiants d’Afrique noire en France (FEANF), a syndicate founded in 1950 that soon turned political, advocating decolonization and African unity. Its fierce opposition to the Algerian War drew retaliation from French authorities, including rent hikes, reduced scholarships, and constant police surveillance. The FEANF was dissolved in 1980.
The independence of Ghana in 1957 and most African nations in 1960 were hailed as triumphs of pan-Africanism. The creation of the Organization of African Unity (OAU) in 1963 marked a step toward continental unity. Yet after independence, narrow nationalism prevailed, and attempts at unity were crushed. Instead of integration, the continent saw secessions—like Eritrea’s break from Ethiopia and Sudan’s division—as well as failed bids such as Biafra and Casamance. In 2002, Libyan leader Muammar Gaddafi pushed to transform the OAU into the African Union (AU), but this vision faded after his 2011 killing by a Franco-American-British coalition. The AU established the New Partnership for Africa’s Development (NEPAD) in 2001 to accelerate integration, yet the initiative has long gone silent.
From civil wars to xenophobic policies
Today, pan-Africanism is invoked by nearly every African leader, from Côte d’Ivoire’s Laurent Gbagbo—founder of the Pan-African Peoples Party (PPA-CI)—to Senegal’s ruling PASTEF party. Yet in practice, when African nations aren’t embroiled in civil conflict, they often enforce harsh immigration policies against fellow Africans. South Africa deports migrants, while West African powers like Sahelian AES states and ECOWAS members remain deeply divided.
Why today’s pan-Africanism feels hollow
Where have the true pan-Africanists gone? Only Séba, Nyamsi, and Yamb remain in the spotlight—loudest on social media. Séba, born in Benin but once French, lost his citizenship after his anti-French activism. Nyamsi, a Cameroonian French citizen, is under scrutiny in Paris for similar stances. Yamb, of Cameroonian and Swiss heritage, faces EU sanctions for her outspoken criticism of the West. They claim persecution for fighting Western dominance, but where is the pan-African ideal when they openly serve Russian interests? Is liberation achieved by switching from one foreign domination to another? The atrocities committed by Russian-backed militias in the Sahel speak for themselves. Where is pan-Africanism when activists align with brutal regimes that suppress freedoms, jail dissidents, and silence opposition?
According to leaked phone conversations, Séba has accused Nyamsi and Yamb of opportunism, suggesting they now serve Faure Gnassingbé of Togo. Séba himself, despite his anti-French rhetoric, has reportedly expressed regret over losing his French citizenship. This form of pan-Africanism feels stale, corrupted—little more than a scam. Yet as global powers grow increasingly predatory, Africa has no choice but to unite swiftly. The continent must, in essence, adopt emergency pan-Africanism—or risk being consumed by its own divisions.
