Russia’s African Arms Trade: Guns, Gold and Geopolitics
By Matthew Parish
Thursday 12 November 2026
The Russian arms industry is engaged in an extraordinary commercial and geopolitical balancing act. While the Kremlin devotes immense industrial resources to its war against Ukraine, it continues to sell advanced military equipment to African governments, including fighter aircraft, air defence systems, armoured vehicles and artillery. These transactions represent far more than a source of foreign currency for the Russian state. They are instruments of political influence, means of cultivating dependencies amongst African governments and evidence of Moscow’s determination to maintain its status as a global military power despite the extraordinary strains imposed upon it by the Ukrainian war. The apparent contradiction is striking: Russia struggles to equip its own military forces adequately for a prolonged European conflict while continuing to export sophisticated weaponry to countries thousands of kilometres away.
The latest evidence of this phenomenon emerged during the third Russia–Africa Summit, held in Moscow on 28 and 29 October 2026. Ethiopia announced an agreement involving twelve Russian Su-35 fighter aircraft and four batteries of the formidable S-400 long-range air defence system. Prime Minister Abiy Ahmed proclaimed the acquisition a substantial enhancement of his country's military capabilities, while the Russian state arms exporter Rosoboronexport confirmed the delivery of an initial two Su-35 aircraft. The distinction between the announced acquisition and equipment actually delivered is important, but the political significance of the transaction is unmistakable. Russia is supplying a strategically important African state with advanced military technology at a time when Ethiopia faces renewed internal fighting and growing tensions with neighbouring Eritrea. Moscow is thereby inserting itself into the delicate military balance of the Horn of Africa.
At the same summit, Ghana announced a new defence agreement with Russia involving the prospective acquisition of strategic military equipment. This was accompanied by commitments concerning nuclear energy, agricultural cooperation and economic development, illustrating the broader diplomatic packaging within which Russian arms transactions increasingly take place. No publicly confirmed inventory or contract value accompanied Ghana's announcement, and it would therefore be premature to describe the agreement as a completed weapons sale. Nevertheless, the significance of Moscow's approach is that military procurement is no longer treated as an isolated commercial transaction. It is increasingly integrated into relationships encompassing energy infrastructure, natural resources, military training and diplomatic cooperation.
The Russian state arms export agency Rosoboronexport claimed in May 2026 that it had signed approximately 150 contractual documents with African countries since 2023, representing more than $20 billion in military-technical cooperation. Its director, Aleksandr Mikheev, asserted that Africa accounted for 30 per cent of the company's order book and that Russia maintained military-technical cooperation agreements with 46 African states. These are impressive figures if taken at face value, particularly for an industry supposedly constrained by Western sanctions and the demands of a major land war. However, they originate from Russian official statements and cannot be independently verified in full. Signed contracts, framework agreements, completed deliveries and actual payments are different things, and there is a considerable danger of confusing Russian commercial ambitions with realised export revenues.
Indeed, the broader statistical picture is considerably less encouraging for Moscow. According to the Stockholm International Peace Research Institute, Russian exports of major conventional weapons declined by 64 per cent between the five-year periods 2016–2020 and 2021–2025. Russia's share of global arms exports fell from 21 per cent to 6.8 per cent, leaving it in third place behind the United States and France. Of weapons imported by African states during 2021–2025, 19 per cent came from the United States, 17 per cent from China and 15 per cent from Russia. The corresponding Russian share in sub-Saharan Africa was just 12 per cent, behind China with 22 per cent. These figures suggest not a wholesale Russian conquest of the African arms market, but a narrower strategy of developing politically valuable relationships with selected customers while the country's wider international military export industry contracts.
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The most important longstanding Russian customer in Africa remains Algeria. Its relationship with Moscow stretches back to the Cold War, when Soviet military assistance formed part of a wider political partnership with a country that had recently achieved independence from France. Algeria's armed forces subsequently became heavily dependent upon Soviet and Russian aircraft, tanks, missiles and air defence systems. This relationship has endured the collapse of the Soviet Union, the Algerian civil war and successive transformations in the international security environment. Geography has made it particularly important: Algeria is a major Mediterranean state bordering the Sahel, while its longstanding rivalry with Morocco creates a powerful incentive to maintain advanced conventional military capabilities.
In 2026, evidence emerged that Algeria had begun operating Russian Su-57 fifth-generation fighter aircraft, making it the first foreign customer for one of Russia's most sophisticated combat aircraft. Russia had acknowledged the export of two Su-57s to an unnamed customer in November 2025, and subsequent reporting identified Algeria as the likely recipient. The quantities ultimately ordered and their contractual value remain uncertain, but the strategic implications are significant. Even a small fleet of advanced aircraft can alter military planning by requiring neighbouring states to invest in new surveillance, electronic warfare and air defence capabilities. Russian sales to Algeria must therefore be understood in the context of the regional balance with Morocco, which maintains close defence relationships with the United States and European suppliers.
Algeria is also becoming important as a logistical centre for Russian military activities elsewhere in Africa. An investigation published by Defense News in April 2026 identified at least 167 cargo flights between Russia and Algeria from March 2025 to April 2026, including movements between Russian aerospace manufacturing facilities and Algerian military airfields. Not all these flights can be conclusively identified as carrying weapons, but their frequency and their links with military-associated operators suggest an increasingly sophisticated transport network. Algeria's geographical position gives Russia access to North Africa and potential onward routes into the Sahel, enabling Moscow to maintain a military presence that is not wholly dependent upon the infrastructure of other countries.
Further south, Russia has adopted a markedly different form of military engagement. Mali, Burkina Faso and Niger have experienced a succession of military coups, deteriorating relationships with France and a search by their governing juntas for alternative security partners. Russia has presented itself as an attractive option: a power prepared to supply weapons, military instructors and security assistance without insisting upon the political conditions traditionally associated with Western military cooperation. This message has proved especially appealing to governments that regard Western criticism of their political systems as an infringement of sovereignty. Moscow has exploited these grievances skilfully, offering its clients a mixture of practical military equipment and the political symbolism of independence from former colonial powers.
Mali provides the clearest example of how these relationships operate. During the first five months of 2025, three substantial consignments of Russian military equipment reached Bamako, including tanks, armoured personnel carriers, artillery and supporting vehicles. Investigations by The Sentry, published in April 2026, found that substantial quantities of this equipment were intended for Russian Africa Corps formations rather than exclusively for the Malian armed forces. This distinction matters. Some transfers conventionally described as Russian arms exports are more accurately understood as Russian military deployments, because the equipment remains under Russian operational control. Others constitute genuine deliveries to African national armies, while still others involve training, maintenance contracts and security services whose precise financial arrangements are seldom publicly disclosed.
The full extent of Russia's supply network has become clearer still. On 10 November 2026, Defense News reported the findings of an investigation by the Washington-based research organisation C4ADS, which tracked twelve cargo vessels associated with Russian military shipments to Africa between 2023 and 2026. The researchers identified important maritime routes through Conakry in Guinea, Tobruk in Libya and Lomé in Togo, with military equipment subsequently transported overland towards Mali and other parts of the Sahel. Five vessels linked to Russian military transport travelled from Baltic and Arctic ports to Conakry between December 2024 and March 2026. The equipment identified in associated shipments included T-72 tanks, Spartak mine-resistant armoured vehicles and other military hardware. Ten of the twelve vessels were subject to American sanctions, demonstrating the limited effectiveness of restrictions that are not consistently applied across international transport and financial networks.
The importance of these developments lies not merely in the quantities of equipment being transported but in the emergence of an enduring Russian military infrastructure across the African continent. Russia is developing the capacity to move military supplies through several alternative ports, relying upon commercial shipping companies, military-associated aircraft operators and sympathetic governments. The network is deliberately adaptable, reducing dependence upon any single route that might become vulnerable to sanctions or diplomatic pressure. Such infrastructure gives Moscow the ability to support friendly governments, supply its own military contingents and respond to emerging crises without the need to organise an entirely new expedition from Russia on each occasion. The objective is the establishment of a permanent geopolitical presence rather than the completion of individual arms transactions.
The transition from the Wagner Group to the Russian Africa Corps is central to understanding this strategy. Wagner operated as a nominally private military organisation, often engaging in opaque arrangements involving security services, mineral concessions and political influence. Following the death of its founder Yevgeny Prigozhin in August 2023, the Russian state progressively assumed more direct control over the organisation's African activities. Africa Corps now operates within a much more explicitly governmental structure, providing Moscow with greater control over military operations and their relationship to Russian foreign policy. The consequence is that Russian arms exports, military deployments and diplomatic agreements have become elements of a substantially integrated foreign policy apparatus.
There is also a significant financial dimension to these relationships. Africa possesses some of the world's most important reserves of gold, uranium, bauxite and other strategically valuable minerals. Russia has demonstrated an interest in linking military influence with access to natural resources, particularly where weak institutions or authoritarian governments permit unusually favourable commercial arrangements. Russian-linked security operations in the Central African Republic provide an established example of the relationship between military assistance and resource extraction. In other countries, including Mali, efforts to secure similar arrangements have proved less successful. It would therefore be inaccurate to assume that every Russian arms transaction involves an exchange of weapons for minerals, but there is undoubtedly a wider Russian strategy of developing mutually supporting commercial and military interests.
For African governments themselves, these arrangements present both opportunities and dangers. There are legitimate reasons why countries facing insurgencies, territorial disputes or regional instability may seek to acquire effective military equipment. The assumption that African governments should depend exclusively upon Western suppliers would itself be a rather paternalistic proposition. Sovereign states are entitled to diversify their defence relationships, and Russian equipment may sometimes be attractive because of price, established maintenance infrastructure or compatibility with existing weapons systems. Russian military aircraft and air defence equipment are not necessarily inferior to Western alternatives in every respect, and the Russian defence industry retains substantial technical expertise despite its difficulties in Ukraine.
Nevertheless, military procurement is never quite the straightforward exercise that government press releases tend to suggest. A sophisticated fighter aircraft requires pilot training, maintenance facilities, replacement engines, compatible missiles, electronic systems and an enduring supply of spare parts. A government that purchases Russian aircraft acquires not merely a collection of military machines but a potentially decades-long dependency upon Russian industrial and technical support. If Russia's military-industrial economy becomes increasingly overstretched, or if international sanctions disrupt the procurement of critical components, African customers may discover that the long-term cost of their purchases is considerably greater than anticipated. The spectacular appearance of a new fighter aircraft at a military parade is of little value if it cannot be kept operational throughout its expected service life.
A further concern is whether Russian military assistance actually improves security. In Mali, years of cooperation with Wagner and its successor have failed to bring an end to the Islamist insurgency, while serious allegations of abuses against civilians have accompanied counterinsurgency operations. On 22 October 2026, Human Rights Watch published new findings concerning alleged atrocities by Malian forces and the Russian-controlled Africa Corps, including the torture of detainees and civilian deaths arising from military operations. Violence against civilians is not merely a humanitarian catastrophe; it may also undermine the legitimacy of governments and encourage recruitment by armed insurgent movements. An army can receive increasingly sophisticated equipment while the underlying security situation continues to deteriorate.
There is, in other words, an important distinction between the military security of a government and the security of the population it governs. Russian military assistance may be particularly attractive to regimes principally concerned with their own survival, because the Kremlin is willing to provide support without necessarily seeking political liberalisation or democratic accountability. This does not mean that every African government purchasing Russian weapons is authoritarian, nor that Western arms exporters have consistently behaved according to their professed ethical principles. It does mean that the institutional context of military assistance matters enormously. Weapons that defend legitimate state institutions may also be used to entrench regimes that have little interest in political reconciliation or civilian protection.
China and Türkiye represent additional complications for Russian ambitions. Both countries have become increasingly important suppliers of military technology to African markets, with Türkiye particularly successful in developing and marketing armed unmanned aerial vehicles. These aircraft offer governments a relatively inexpensive means of conducting reconnaissance and precision strikes without acquiring the infrastructure necessary to maintain large fleets of advanced combat aircraft. Chinese manufacturers meanwhile benefit from substantial industrial capacity, competitive pricing and the ability to offer comprehensive packages of military equipment. The Russian defence industry is therefore competing in markets where its traditional strengths are no longer sufficient to guarantee commercial dominance.
This competition has particular significance for the development of African military capabilities. For many governments, the decisive security problems involve controlling remote territories, monitoring borders, countering insurgent movements and protecting critical infrastructure. Expensive fighter aircraft and long-range missile systems may have considerable prestige value, but they are not necessarily the most effective means of addressing these problems. Smaller drones, surveillance networks, reliable transport aircraft and competent military logistics may represent better investments. There is an irony in the fact that Russia, whose own armed forces have been compelled to adapt to the extraordinary significance of inexpensive drones in Ukraine, continues to market sophisticated conventional weapons systems as symbols of military modernity.
From Moscow's perspective, however, commercial considerations are only one part of the calculation. A Russian aircraft delivered to an African customer provides foreign currency, supports employment within the Russian defence industry and establishes a relationship that may endure for decades. It also creates political opportunities. Governments dependent upon Russian military equipment may become reluctant to support international sanctions against Moscow, while Russian technical advisers, instructors and maintenance personnel can provide additional channels of political influence. Military cooperation may facilitate intelligence relationships, access to strategic infrastructure and support in international organisations. The cumulative value of these advantages may be considerably greater than the immediate profit from an individual weapons contract.
The implications for Ukraine are therefore substantial. Russia is attempting to preserve its global diplomatic network while pursuing its war against Ukraine, and African arms transactions contribute to this objective. They may generate financial resources, sustain industrial production and deepen relationships with governments that Moscow hopes will remain neutral or sympathetic to Russian positions in international diplomacy. There is also the possibility that Russian military relationships in Africa facilitate access to materials and commercial channels useful for circumventing sanctions. Yet the effects should not be exaggerated. Exporting equipment also requires industrial resources, and there is no simple basis for concluding that every transaction strengthens Russia's military campaign in Ukraine. Some exports may be commercially profitable, while others impose costs that the Russian state accepts in pursuit of geopolitical influence.
Indeed, one of the more intriguing questions is why Russia should continue exporting sophisticated military equipment while its own armed forces remain engaged in a costly war of attrition. Part of the answer may be that military production is not entirely interchangeable. Industrial facilities producing aircraft for foreign customers cannot necessarily be redirected immediately towards manufacturing the artillery ammunition, tactical drones and other equipment required at the Ukrainian front. Some export contracts were agreed years before the invasion, creating obligations that Russia may be unwilling to abandon. It may also be that Moscow regards the maintenance of its international arms business as an essential investment in its post-war economic and geopolitical future. A country that loses its foreign customers during a prolonged war may find them extremely difficult to recover afterwards.
Western governments face a complicated policy dilemma in responding to these developments. Simply denouncing Russian arms sales is unlikely to persuade African governments to abandon them, particularly where Russian equipment meets genuine defence requirements or Western suppliers are unwilling to provide suitable alternatives. Sanctions can raise the costs of Russian military operations and restrict access to international transport and finance, but they cannot substitute for a coherent diplomatic policy towards African security needs. Effective Western competition requires reliable military partnerships, affordable equipment, credible training programmes and respect for African political autonomy. Otherwise, attempts to isolate Russia may simply reinforce the Kremlin's portrayal of Western policy as an effort to deny African states their freedom of choice.
The most significant feature of Russia's contemporary African arms trade may therefore be its combination of commercial weakness and geopolitical persistence. Russia is no longer the dominant international arms exporter that it once appeared to be, and its military-industrial economy faces structural constraints that are unlikely to disappear quickly. Nevertheless, Moscow retains a substantial inheritance of Soviet military relationships, considerable technical expertise and an evident willingness to accept financial and political risks in pursuit of strategic influence. A relatively modest delivery of military equipment can have an influence disproportionate to its commercial value when directed towards a government facing acute insecurity or diplomatic isolation.
There is something profoundly revealing about this phenomenon when viewed from Ukraine. For nearly five years, Russia has devoted extraordinary resources to attempting to subjugate a neighbouring European state, with enormous consequences for the Russian economy and military establishment. Yet the Kremlin simultaneously seeks to project an image of undiminished military strength across distant continents. African arms sales form an important component of that image, presenting Russia as a state capable not merely of fighting wars but of supplying the instruments of war to others. Whether this ambition can be sustained indefinitely is another matter, particularly when Russia must reconcile the demands of its domestic military with those of foreign customers whose expectations may prove increasingly difficult to satisfy.
Ultimately, the Russian arms trade in Africa illustrates one of the more uncomfortable truths of contemporary geopolitics: military power is not measured exclusively by the number of weapons a country possesses, but also by the dependencies it can create through supplying them to others. The Kremlin understands that every substantial arms contract carries the potential for a political relationship, every military adviser may become an instrument of influence and every security agreement may provide access to a wider network of strategic opportunities. Russia's African arms industry may be declining in global commercial terms, but her geopolitical ambitions remain substantial. The danger for Africa is that the continent becomes another arena in which external powers compete for influence through the supply of weapons, while the deeper political and economic causes of insecurity remain unresolved. The danger for Ukraine is that these relationships help sustain Russia's capacity to remain an internationally consequential military power despite the enormous costs of its aggression. And the danger for Russia is that her ambitions abroad may eventually exceed what her exhausted military-industrial economy can afford to deliver.
