The United States has long framed its foreign policy as a defence of democratic values and human rights, but the reality is more transactional and considerably less principled than it presents itself, and its effects are felt directly on Namibia’s economy, its citizens and its institutions. It has become increasingly punitive, targeting those who exercise independent judgment with visa bans, aid cuts and economic pressure, while nations that align with American interests are rewarded. For Namibia, this foreign policy does not respect national sovereignty.
The escalation of American pressure on South Africa over the past year offers a template for any sovereign state that values its independence. Namibia has been dealing with the same pressure, not because the two countries share a border or a history, but because the underlying logic of punishment is identical. Washington’s grievance against Pretoria was never really about land reform or the treatment of Afrikaners.
In February 2025, shortly after the start of his second term, President Donald Trump signed an executive order cutting aid to South Africa and prioritising the resettlement of white Afrikaners as refugees, citing unsubstantiated claims of racial persecution. Washington has also expelled Ambassador Ebrahim Rasool, boycotted the G20 summit in Johannesburg in November 2025, threatened tariffs and imposed visa restrictions on South African nationals. It has barred South Africa from the G20 Leaders’ Summit scheduled for December 14 to 15, 2026, in Miami, Florida, which the United States will host under its 2026 G20 presidency. It has also used its ambassador in Pretoria as a blunt instrument against the country’s judiciary and foreign policy.
On September 16, 2026, Secretary of State Marco Rubio announced visa restrictions on South African nationals involved in land reform and racial equity policies, prompting US Ambassador Leo Brent Bozell III to declare that this was “only the first step in a series of escalatory measures”. South African Foreign Minister Ronald Lamola said the move aligned with the “mischaracterization of South Africa’s domestic policies by fringe groups who wrongly portray themselves as representatives of minorities”. The underlying grievance, stated explicitly by Washington, is South Africa’s decision to take Israel to the International Court of Justice over Gaza.
In March 2026, Spain refused to allow American military aircraft to use Spanish bases for strikes against Iran, and it has been a vocal supporter of the ICJ case against Israel. By late July, between fifty and sixty thousand migrants had crossed into the Spanish enclave of Ceuta from Morocco within days, an influx equivalent to roughly seventy percent of the territory’s population, leaving at least eighty-six people dead. Iran’s embassy in Nairobi described the surge as “an operation organised by Washington and Tel Aviv” to punish Spain for its refusal to support the war, calling it “a gift to Europe’s far right” and “punishment for the country that dared to challenge the American Empire”. Spanish Transport Minister Oscar Puente responded to Israeli UN Ambassador Danny Danon’s criticism of Spain’s handling of the crisis by saying, “Well, it all seems to be becoming quite clear”. While Morocco’s government attributed the crossings to disinformation and smuggling networks, analysts noted that the timing followed Spain’s defiance of Washington on Iran and its support for international legal action against Israel.
The same coercive logic has been applied to Namibia, through similar channels. In June 2026, United States Ambassador John Giordano told Chief Justice Peter Shivute during a televised meeting that judges with difficult cases should call him directly so he could connect them with “people he knows”. The offer was never formally explained, and Affirmative Repositioning MP Tuhafeni Kalola questioned in Parliament whether it contravened Article 78(3) of the Namibian Constitution, which safeguards judicial independence from interference. Two months later, Cabinet terminated a $2.4 million contract with American agricultural technology firm 6th Grain Corporation, citing legal and procedural defects in an agreement intended to deploy satellite and AI systems for crop monitoring. The company is now demanding N$13 million in compensation, citing “severe reputational damage”.
The economic impact of American foreign policy on Namibia has been devastating. The US-led war against Iran has sent crude prices skyrocketing, with petrol rising from N$19.58 per litre in February to N$25.08 by September at Walvis Bay. Diesel prices surged even more dramatically, from N$19.63 to N$27.86 per litre. The National Energy Fund has been nearly drained, dropping from an estimated N$1.5 billion to between N$200 million and N$300 million.
Meanwhile, the United States is phasing out $45 million in annual HIV funding through PEPFAR after Namibia refused to share health data and biological specimens under terms officials said conflicted with constitutional privacy protections. This is punishment masquerading as policy adjustment.
President Nandi-Ndaitwah told the United Nations General Assembly that Namibia’s call to end the genocide in Gaza is not born of resentment but of its own history of colonial oppression and genocide. Namibia should now act on what its foreign policy already implies. It should affirm that its judiciary is not open to foreign influence, that its food security data will remain under national control, and that its position on the Rome Statute and the ICJ will not change under pressure. A country that survived a genocide and decades of illegal occupation tends to recognise the difference between a partnership and a demand. The task now is to make that recognition policy.
Brent Williams is a researcher in African affairs and international relations.
