As Ugandans, we understand the anguish of conflict all too well. Our history of wars and instability has shown us how external powers frequently intervene, promising peace but often leaving greater problems in their wake.
In 2025, this pattern persists in places like the Democratic Republic of Congo (DRC), Rwanda, and even Ukraine.
The United States and European Union position themselves as saviours, brokering deals to halt fighting.
Yet, a closer look reveals the truth: these interventions are often driven by greed, not goodwill. Their aim is to seize resources from vulnerable nations under the guise of peacekeeping.
Let’s begin with Africa, a continent abundant in minerals yet plagued by wars. The West has a long history of meddling here. Recall how colonial powers carved up Africa for their own gain? Today, it’s subtle, but the objective remains: control resources.
In the DRC, one of the world’s poorest nations despite possessing trillions in untapped minerals like cobalt, copper, and coltan, conflict has raged for decades. These minerals are vital for manufacturing phones, batteries, and electric cars—essentials for the West’s “green” future.
Consider the recent DRC-Rwanda peace deal brokered by US President Donald Trump in June 2025. The conflict between DRC and Rwanda, fuelled by rebel groups like M23, has killed thousands and displaced millions in eastern Congo. Rwanda has faced accusations of backing M23 to control mineral-rich areas, while DRC grapples with over 100 armed groups.
Trump intervened, hosting talks in Washington where foreign ministers from both nations signed what he called a “wonderful treaty.” On the surface, it appears promising: Rwanda agrees to cease supporting rebels, DRC receives aid to secure its borders, and fighting may subside.
But look deeper, and the true motive emerges. The deal isn’t solely about peace; it’s tied to granting US companies access to DRC’s vast mineral wealth, estimated at £20 trillion.
Trump has been transparent about his “America First” policy, pushing for deals that benefit US firms in critical minerals. Under this agreement, American mining and energy companies gain priority in exploring and extracting resources in eastern Congo.
For instance, firms linked to Trump’s allies have lobbied fiercely for contracts in DRC’s cobalt and copper mines. One US company even secured a £1.2 billion deal to build a power line to Congo’s mines mere months after the peace agreement.
Picture this: while Congolese people flee their homes amid gunfire, US executives covet the ground beneath for profits. The deal promises security assistance from the US, but in return, DRC surrenders control of its riches. Critics term it “minerals for security,” where peace is merely a bargaining chip. Is this lasting peace? No. Experts warn that without tackling root causes like poverty and corruption, the deal may collapse, leaving US firms richer and locals suffering. It’s akin to patching a leaking roof with paper—it appears fixed, but the rain will return.
This isn’t unique to the DRC. Western powers have exploited conflicts for resources for years. In the Sahel, France intervened in Mali and Niger, claiming to combat terrorism, but in reality, it secured uranium mines for its nuclear power. In Sudan, EU nations discuss peace while their companies eye oil fields amid the civil war.
Africa holds much of the world’s critical minerals, yet we remain poor because outsiders fuel wars to maintain control. As one report states, foreign nations queue to exploit Africa’s riches, leading to “green neo-colonialism.”
Now, let’s turn to Ukraine, where the pattern repeats outside Africa. Since Russia-Ukraine war started in 2022, the US and EU have poured billions into aid, weapons, and support for Kyiv. They claim it’s to defend democracy and halt aggression. But behind the noble rhetoric lies a grab for Ukraine’s vast rare earth minerals, such as lithium, titanium, and graphite—crucial for technology and renewable energy.
In early 2025, Trump pushed for a deal granting US firms 50% ownership of Ukraine’s mineral deposits as a condition for continued aid. This sparked tense negotiations and a standoff between Washington and Kyiv. Ukrainian President Zelenskyy initially resisted, fearing a loss of sovereignty. But under pressure, they signed in April 2025, establishing a joint fund where the US gains preferential access to mines, oil, and gas. The agreement covers rare earths and more, with Kyiv sharing revenue but Washington calling many shots.
Imagine Ukrainian soldiers battling on the front lines while US officials negotiate backroom deals for minerals worth billions. Trump openly stated the US should own half to “rebuild” Ukraine, but it’s evident: aid comes with strings attached to secure supplies away from China and Russia.
This standoff delayed peace efforts, as Trump linked support to economic gains. Even EU allies urged Ukraine to accept the deal, revealing how the West prioritises profits over pure solidarity. As in Africa, the conflict persists, but Western firms position themselves to profit once the dust settles.
These examples from DRC-Rwanda and Ukraine underscore a broader truth: Western interventions rarely aim for genuine peace. Instead, they exploit conflicts as opportunities. In Iraq, the US invaded in 2003 claiming to eliminate weapons, but oil contracts went to American companies. In Libya, EU and US airstrikes toppled Gaddafi in 2011 for “human rights,” yet the country descended into chaos, with migrants exploited and resources seized. Even in our East African region, Western aid often comes with demands for market access, keeping us dependent.
Why does this occur? Powerful nations like the US and EU need resources to fuel their economies. With climate change driving demand for electric vehicles and technology, minerals are the new oil. They intervene in weak states, broker deals favouring their firms, and leave locals with scraps. In DRC, child labour in mines persists while US tech giants profit from cheap cobalt. In Ukraine, war-torn families rebuild, but foreign investors eye their land.
The West’s approach to conflicts in Africa and Ukraine reveals intentions that are rarely noble. They wave flags of peace while picking pockets for profit.
As informed Ugandans, let’s see through the smoke. Demand transparency, support homegrown solutions, and build a future where our resources benefit us, not distant powers. Only then can true peace take root.