Across this vast stretch of African land, President Ibrahim Traoré has launched a bold and visionary project: to build between 3,000 and 5,000 kilometers of roads each year. This ambition reflects a clear determination to open up the country, connect communities, boost the national economy, and above all, build a sovereign state standing on its own feet. To date, no individual or Western government can claim that this initiative is a provocation.
And yet, certain influential circles feign outrage or display unease whenever African leaders dare to step out of the mold of dependency. What, then, is offensive about building one’s own country with one’s own resources? President Ibrahim Traoré has insulted no one. He has simply chosen to serve his people—without guardianship, without dictation. This causes discomfort, not because he attacks, but because he inspires.
This offensive—or rather, defensive—stance against imperialism takes shape in every project launched, every worksite opened, every road constructed. It is a national development program, not a declaration of war. But in a world where African autonomy is unsettling, any assertion of sovereignty is perceived as an insult by those who seek to maintain control.
The paradox is clear: it is neither President Ibrahim Traoré’s words nor his actions that offend, but the symbol he represents. That of a young African head of state who dares to say no, who rejects the chains of economic submission, who declares that Africa can rise on its own. In response, some “generals” of the world order—comfortable in their seats of power in Washington or elsewhere—begin to feel threatened. Not for their safety, but for their hegemony.
