Issue No. 84

Visa Bans and the American Retreat from the Horn

In just a few short months, decades of US foreign policy towards Africa have been upended again-- and its dwindling soft power further eroded. As part of this latest swing, on 4 June, US President Donald Trump resurrected sweeping bans on foreign nationals entering America, now expanded to 12 countries. Others have been placed under partial prohibitions, such as Cuba and Venezuela. However, seven of the 12 total bans affect African citizens, including those from Chad, Equatorial Guinea, and the Republic of Congo, and three from the Horn of Africa —Somalia, Sudan, and Eritrea. Dubiously justified by a need to "protect against foreign terrorists and other security threats," the ban is likely to only further undermine the position of Washington vis-a-vis its geostrategic opponents on the continent.

The Biden administration's policy towards the Horn of Africa was largely disinterested and episodic, prioritising its interests elsewhere on the continent. Though the US did eventually bring significant pressure to bear on Addis to end the Tigray war in 2022, the still-raging conflict in Sudan garnered far less support and attention, while much of the broader policy was nearly wholly delegated to the US Assistant Secretary of State for African Affairs, Molly Phee. Neither normative nor geostrategic interests were fully pursued, resulting in policies that were often self-defeating and short-sighted. Rather, there was continued deference of US Horn of Africa policy to the interests of favoured Gulf allies, particularly Saudi Arabia and the UAE. Some hoped that the return of Trump could offer space for more pragmatic engagement and strategic realignment, despite his infamous reference to African nations as "shithole countries" in 2018 and close relationships with Doha, Riyadh, and Abu Dhabi.

Broadly, that has not proven the case so far. The sudden evisceration of USAID and billions of dollars in humanitarian and development funding has blown a hole through social security programmes across Africa. Key positions within the State Department's Bureau of African Affairs remain unfilled, including the assistant secretary position. Instead, there has been a broad emphasis on a transition from 'aid to trade,' supposedly as part of an attempt to stop infantilising African nations as well as to pursue American economic interests. Cooperation on counter-terrorism and strategic alignment against China have further been touted as central pillars of the returned Trump administration. But the days of vast development spending that sustained American interests in Africa are over for now, even while it has been steadily eclipsed by China and, more latterly, Middle Powers with vested security and economic interests in the Horn. So, amid the resurgent US interest in securing mineral deals and other transactional extractive interests, the total visa ban has reinforced the perception that Washington wants African resources-- not its people.

Washington has argued that the nationals of the barred countries pose elevated risks due to their government's deficient identity-verification processes, inadequate record-keeping, and a history of non-cooperation on repatriations. In relation to Eritrea, Sudan, and Somalia, this is all true. But these national security arguments are also a fig leaf for the Trumpian attempts to satiate the Republican base's appetite for hardline immigration measures-- regardless of their effectiveness or cost to US global positioning. There are some exceptions to the US ban, including dual nationals, adoptions, and some athletes, but the sweeping measures are designed to withstand court interventions as well, unlike Trump's 2017 'Muslim Ban' that was partially rolled back. 

Human rights organisations have warned against the consequences of the immigration ban, citing the profound impact it is sure to have on migrant families. Somali-American community leaders in Minneapolis and Columbus have emphasised that the visa prohibitions threaten to tear families apart. And financially, it is likely to strike a blow to the Somali economy as well, which is highly dependent on remittances from the sizeable US-based diaspora. US civil liberties groups have likewise lambasted the ban as a "false guise of national security" and accused the administration of racial and/ or religious scapegoating. 

The reaction from the African Union, and targeted African countries, has been mixed, with many preferring not to draw the ire of the famously mercurial US president. Chad sits on one end of the spectrum, announcing reciprocal measures against US citizens. Though protesting the ban, Somalia's federal government, meanwhile, has pledged to "engage in dialogue to address the concerns raised." Among such US concerns was that the government "lacks command and control of its territory, which greatly limits the effectiveness of its national capabilities." This is highly unlikely to change, though, with the Somali government increasingly regarded as an unreliable interlocutor by US officials and Al-Shabaab seizing swathes of territory in recent months. Mogadishu's deepening ties with China have hardly endeared it to Washington either.

Eritrean citizens, meanwhile, have been banned for having relatively high visa overstay rates, as well as Asmara refusing to accept deported nationals or allow US access to its criminal records. A close African ally of Russia, the Eritrean government, headed by long-serving dictator Isaias Afwerki, is proportionally one of the largest generators of economic migrants and political asylum seekers. It is highly improbable that the dictatorship of the 'hermit kingdom' of Africa will flinch, having repeatedly voiced its opposition to the US on a host of issues and lambasting perceived 'Western imperialism' for its own diplomatic isolation in the 21st century. However, it does deny Eritreans fleeing forced and indefinite military conscription - and a possible war with Ethiopia - a haven in the US.

In Sudan's case, the total ban comes amid the destructive conflict between the Sudanese army and the Rapid Support Forces (RSF) that has ripped apart much of the country and laid waste to Khartoum. Sudan was previously implicated in a series of repatriation disagreements with the US, both during the Omar al-Bashir years and amid subsequent political turbulence. Today, expecting the Sudanese military 'government' to engage with questions of immigration for its citizens when many of its senior commanders, including General Abdel Fattah al-Burhan, are under US sanctions is dubious. Even more indicative of American disengagement from the region is its use of one of its most powerful sanctions instruments  - a travel ban – without even the pretence of trying to extract progress from the Sudanese belligerents or their Gulf allies in bringing an end to the disastrous conflict.

South Sudan, by contrast, has been conspicuously spared the blanket ban, in spite of its chronic instability and dire governance record, because of a coercive bargain. Earlier in May, the US sought to offload a deportation flight of convicted migrants in Juba as a "third-country removal." It later emerged that the US had threatened South Sudan with visa sanctions for refusing to accept the migrants. Within forty-eight hours, Juba relented, allowing non-South Sudanese to land "in the spirit of cooperation" and thereby seemingly avoiding being listed.

More broadly, the visa ban epitomises the global charge of overwhelmingly right-wing movements seeking to pull up the drawbridge whilst slashing aid and developmental assistance to developing nations. In recent months, there have been some long-overdue recalibrations of US foreign policy in relation to various issues in the Horn of Africa, particularly the counter-terror fight in Somalia, but the gutting of USAID and these visa bans are working counter to both American interests and the citizens of their partner nations, excluding Eritrea and Sudan. And such bans-- even if these African governments have shown no regard for their citizens-- further open the door for America's strategic opponents and allies to step in. It is a win for both Russian and Chinese optics, allowing them to present themselves as more reliable – and less judgmental - partners to Horn nations and peoples rather than merely being interested in their natural resources. 

The US certainly has the right to impose visa bans, and for some of these countries, it may even be justified, with half of a Somali government delegation to Switzerland having reportedly disappeared this week, for instance. But whether the policy is indeed wise in terms of losing global influence alongside a raft of domestic measures making the US a less attractive destination for the best and brightest from other parts of the world is more questionable.

The Horn Edition Team