Pope Leo XIV wraps up his 11-day visit to four African countries this week – Algeria, Cameroon, Angola, and Equatorial Guinea.
Many across the continent have welcomed the pope’s visit as a powerful sign of hope, offering both spiritual encouragement and a sense of global recognition. At a time when millions in Africa are facing hardship, conflict, and inequality, the pope’s message of peace, compassion, and social justice has clearly resonated.
There is, however, an uncomfortable dimension to his visit that’s hard to ignore. The choice of some of the countries on his itinerary could be seen as quietly legitimising regimes with long histories of human rights abuses.
Take Cameroon, for example, whose president, Paul Biya, has been in power since 1982, when Ronald Reagan was still US president and the Soviet Union still existed. He’s been in office for 44 years. That’s longer than most Cameroonians have been alive. Over that time, Biya has faced repeated accusations of election rigging and suppressing opposition voices. Now, at 93, he appears determined to die in office rather than give way to democratic governance.
Then there is Equatorial Guinea, where President Teodoro Obiang Nguema Mbasogo has ruled with an iron fist for 47 years. His stay in power has long been associated with tyranny, corruption, human rights abuses, and the manipulation of elections. Despite that country’s natural wealth, many citizens still live in poverty and fear, with little to no political freedom. Both Obiang and Biya have positioned their sons as successors.
Now, for these despots to be seen breaking bread with one of the world’s most influential moral figures is not a small thing. It can be interpreted as giving them a sense of legitimacy. It may even be the greatest gift of endorsement that these regimes could hope for.
The pope’s defenders will argue that engagement is better than isolation and that diplomacy sometimes means sitting at uncomfortable tables. The pope may be hoping to quietly encourage them to govern more fairly and nudge them to pay greater attention to the poor.
That’s a fair argument. But it’s where the danger also lies. History shows that quiet diplomacy with despots hardly ever leads to real change. And when religious leaders appear too comfortable in the company of rulers who oppress their citizens, the message many ordinary people hear is not one of justice, but of compromise.
So, should the pope have avoided visiting these countries altogether? Not necessarily. But how he engages matters. Rather than prioritising meetings with Africa’s discredited dictators with choreographed public displays of diplomacy, the pope could have placed greater emphasis on standing visibly with those who suffer under these regimes.
His moral authority carries the greatest weight when it is exercised in solidarity with grassroots movements, civil society organisations, and ordinary citizens whose voices are suppressed.
His strength as pope does not come from palaces or presidential dining rooms. It comes from speaking truth to power, standing with the poor, and fearlessly confronting unjust systems and demonic political strongholds. By appearing to cosy up to Africa’s long‑serving despots, even with good intentions, the pope risks sending the wrong message.
On a continent where many continue to struggle for basic freedoms, that perception is deeply unsettling. Africa does not benefit from despots being rebranded as honourable statesmen on the global stage. It needs strong, uncompromising moral leaders willing to speak uncomfortable truths without fear or favour and to walk away from the tables of power if needs be.
- Thami Dickson is a media professional and commentator on African affairs
