Israel has been turning on the charm in Africa lately. It has established more embassies, new partnerships, and a big push in everything from technology to agriculture and security.
Officially, Israel says it is just here to help, sharing know-how and modern solutions with developing nations. It’s all friendly handshakes and cooperation, at least on the surface.
But when you dig a little deeper and things get complicated. Is this genuine support, or are these deals just another debt trap that leaves African governments picking up a heavy tab long after the photo ops are over?
At the heart of it all is the way Israel structures its deals and the strict terms its companies demand. Critics say these agreements are built to put Israeli interests and profits first, not African needs.
So, what’s actually happening on the ground? When Israeli companies show up in Africa, their contracts almost always use US dollars. They do not touch local currencies, even when the work is happening right there. Then, African governments are forced to borrow from Israeli banks to pay for these projects.
The loans are backed by African state assets. On paper, it’s a win-win. Israeli companies get business, African countries get new tech or infrastructure, and Israel gets to play the role of generous partner.
But the reality is the relationship is one-sided. If things go south, the risk lands squarely on African governments. Israeli exporters barely feel a thing. Their deals are protected by Ashra, Israel’s export insurance agency, which guarantees their money no matter what goes wrong in Africa. So if something falls apart, Israeli contractors still get paid, and African governments are left holding the bill.
This setup is already in play in places like Uganda, Zambia, Angola, and Ethiopia. People involved in these deals say the debts can balloon for years, sometimes far beyond what the projects were worth in the first place.
Israel’s growing footprint in Africa is no accident. Tel Aviv has mapped out a clear strategy to fit its bigger political and economic goals. In July 2025, six new Israel Allies Caucuses popped up in African parliaments in Ethiopia, Côte d’Ivoire, Lesotho, Seychelles, Gabon, and Guinea-Conakry. These groups openly support Israel’s right to exist, with Jerusalem as its capital, and call for more cooperation in agriculture, technology, climate issues, and counterterrorism.
Earlier, in April 2024, Malawi opened a new embassy in Israel. Later that year, Addis Ababa hosted the Africa-Israel Parliamentary Summit, drawing lawmakers who backed Israeli positions.
For Israel, these moves matter. African votes count in international forums like the UN. Friendly ties help Israel push back against criticism, build its image in the Global South, and open new markets for its businesses. Some African officials say they feel pressure to publicly support Israel’s stances if they want to keep the cooperation going.
But critics are not buying the idea that Israel is motivated by goodwill. They see a pattern: Israeli companies get sweet deals, African governments shoulder the risk.
Analysts see echoes of old Western and Asian financial models here. The partner brings credit, but only if you hire their contractors and pay in their currency. Local economies get sidelined, and governments end up paying way more than they bargained for.
A lot of Africans are starting to wonder: are Israel’s deals really any different, or are they just more of the same? For government ministers, top officials, and project managers in Africa, the choice isn’t simple. Israel brings skills people want.
Their water-saving technology is ahead of the curve. Their farming methods boost harvests even when it hardly rains. And when it comes to security, countries facing unrest or terrorism pay attention to what Israel offers.
African governments chase these skills because people expect results. Leaders want quick wins, and deals with Israeli companies can look like an easy ticket. Still, these agreements usually come pre-packaged, with little space to push back. If a country feels desperate for investment or lacks leverage, it often ends up signing on terms that hurt down the road.
Some officials, behind closed doors, admit they are worried about piling on more debt. But they feel swept along by the political momentum. In many cases, nobody even knows the full details of these deals, not the press, not parliament, not the public. That lack of transparency only breeds suspicion.
The real worry is what happens if these projects flop or just stall. A project does not have to fail outright to cause problems. Maybe it runs late because of local hiccups, or the money it brings in does not cover the loans. Normally, contractors would share some of that risk.
But under Israel’s export-guarantee setup, it doesn’t work that way. Companies get paid no matter what, thanks to Ashra stepping in to cover them. African governments are left holding the debt, whether the project works out or not.
Economists argue this makes foreign companies less careful about whether the projects are actually doable, since they get paid either way. The burden of checking the risks falls on African governments, which often don’t have the experts or resources for that kind of oversight.
And let us be honest, debt is already eating up big chunks of budgets in a lot of African countries. Taking on more, especially from these Israeli-backed projects, just digs the hole deeper.
So, the real issue is about what happens to ordinary Africans. If a project funded by an Israeli loan goes off the rails, Israeli taxpayers do not feel it.
Civil society groups warn that Israel’s model risks making African countries even more dependent, not stronger. They say that as more deals get signed, the debt just keeps growing, hidden behind legal jargon and diplomatic ceremonies.
African countries need to demand better deals, more transparency, and a fair share of the risk with Israel. They can set up tougher oversight to make sure these projects deliver real benefits, not just political headlines.
Israel has real know-how. Its experience with agriculture, water, and security could help Africa. But that only works if the partnership is fair, open, and respectful. But if one side gets richer while the other drowns in debt, you can’t call that friendship.
As Israel expands its reach and influence in Africa, governments on the continent need to dig deeper. They need to ask tough questions about what these loans really mean in the long run. And they need to weigh whether the promised benefits actually outweigh the hidden costs.
Development should not cost anyone their sovereignty. Support is not supposed to feel like a trap. If Israel truly wants to help Africa, it needs to rethink how it handles money and take on some of the risk itself. African countries have to look out for themselves, too, and turn down any deals that might hurt their future.