The New Imperialism and the “Weaponization” of Investment in Africa (3–3)

By: Al-Tijani Abdel Qadir Hamid

(6) Why does the UAE resort to weaponizing investment in Africa?

In previous imperial systems, armies were dispatched to expand or forcibly settle in Africa (and elsewhere) for one of three reasons: to ease domestic overpopulation, to find markets for their manufactured goods, or to secure raw materials for their factories—all underpinned by absolute confidence in military superiority.

In the case of the United Arab Emirates, however, these drivers are largely absent. With a native population of barely one million, and a relatively small military force, demographic pressures are negligible. As for markets, the African states being targeted are among the poorest in the world, with per capita incomes in some cases amounting to only a few dollars a day. What remains, then, is the lure of vast tracts of arable land and precious minerals. Reports confirm this: some 66.5% of Africa’s gold is smuggled (or exported) to the UAE.

But this still does not explain why the UAE consistently pairs its African investments with military hardware. Is it because the continent is mired in chronic instability and civil strife, leaving little room for peaceful commercial exchange? Or is it that the UAE exploits fractured political orders, weak economies, contested legal frameworks, and the proliferation of armed groups and militias—turning instability into opportunity? Does this explain why Abu Dhabi alternates between cultivating ties with opposition groups and currying favor with fragile governments, shifting its role from trade partner to armed actor, and from bartering gold for gas to bartering gold for weapons? And what, exactly, is the UAE’s relationship to arms production and export?

(7) From exporting oil to exporting arms

The UAE is undergoing a major transformation, rapidly expanding into the defense industry—particularly in advanced military technologies and artificial intelligence—allocating vast financial resources to the sector. According to the Stockholm International Peace Research Institute (SIPRI), global military spending in 2024 reached $2.72 trillion, a 9.4% increase from the previous year. Arms sales worldwide rose by 8.5%, with the Global South emerging as the primary market. Strikingly, the report highlights the UAE’s EDGE Group among the world’s top 25 arms exporters, despite the country’s small size and absence of a large standing army or protracted wars.

EDGE, founded in 2019, has in record time become a global arms exporter, producing unmanned aerial vehicles, AI-enabled combat drones, anti-ship missiles, and systems for electronic warfare and secure communications. In 2025, the UAE’s defense spending reached $32.5 billion, much of it aimed at reducing dependence on foreign suppliers by investing in homegrown, AI-driven defense industries.

EDGE’s leadership is explicit: the goal is technological self-reliance and the creation of a domestic defense industrial base rooted in the Fourth Industrial Revolution. Subsidiaries like SIGN4L specialize in electronic warfare, offering systems capable of detecting, intercepting, and jamming enemy communications and radar—technologies that confer dominance over the electromagnetic spectrum.

Where are these weapons headed? Beyond the domestic and Gulf markets, EDGE openly names Africa, Asia, and South America as its primary target regions.

(8) Conclusion: From Sub-Imperialism to Recalcitrant Imperialism

Scholars of political economy have long debated how to classify Gulf oil states. Some adopt the “rentier state” model first articulated by Iranian economist Hossein Mahdavy in the early 1970s: countries cursed by resource wealth, in which oil generates growth without genuine production or human development, and where citizen–state relations are reduced to patronage.

Others lean on dependency theory, developed by Samir Amin and colleagues, framing Third World states—whether rentier or not—as subordinate to the global capitalist system, incapable of genuine development without breaking free from it.

Building on this, Brazilian Marxist thinker Ruy Mauro Marini advanced the concept of “sub-imperialism”: a marginal state able to concentrate local capital and project dominance regionally, while still depending on a central imperial power (such as the United States). Scholars have applied this to Brazil, Israel, and, more recently, the UAE. Sudanese researcher Hossam Othman Mahjoub, for example, argued that the UAE’s African ventures—from port control to land grabs, mineral exploitation, and military interventions—fit the sub-imperialist model perfectly.

Yet while Mahjoub’s framework is compelling, it no longer fully captures the Emirati case. The UAE is now moving beyond sub-imperialism, toward what might be called “recalcitrant imperialism”—a form of assertive, noncompliant imperial power.

Several factors explain this shift:

1. Mutual leverage with great powers. The UAE is no longer simply a dependent marginal state. While it does not rival the nuclear or military might of the United States, Europe, or China, some major powers increasingly find themselves courting Abu Dhabi’s favor in logistics and investment.

2. Strategic global investments. Through its sovereign wealth funds, the UAE holds significant stakes in major Western corporations, contributing to jobs and GDP in Europe and the US. In France, for example, analysts now warn that Paris risks becoming “captive” to Emirati capital.

3. Technological ambitions. Since 2017, the UAE has pursued a strategy of positioning itself as a hub for the Fourth Industrial Revolution, with defense technologies as a core pillar. This lends it an emergent imperial profile in both regional and global contexts.

4. African dependency. Unlike the anti-colonial resistance that once defined Africa’s encounter with imperialism, today’s African governments are often riddled with illegitimacy, corruption, and economic fragility. Far from resisting external domination, many elites actively channel their wealth into Dubai’s safe havens—over 26,000 African companies are registered in the UAE—making the Emirates not just an investor, but also a gatekeeper of African capital flight.

In this light, the UAE is not merely a sub-imperialist actor, but one evolving into a rogue imperial power. Its trajectory increasingly mirrors that of Israel: a small state with outsized military-technological clout and global alliances that defy easy categorization.

But critical questions remain:

Is “militarizing investment” in Africa truly a viable long-term strategy?

What happens if the weaponization of trade backfires, or triggers counter-reactions from regional powers such as Saudi Arabia, Egypt, or Turkey?

Can the UAE sustain military–economic structures in Africa without falling under the dominance of established imperial centers like the United States?

How will it balance its deepening ties with China’s Belt and Road Initiative—anchored in Dubai’s Jebel Ali Port—with its longstanding security partnership with Washington?

And how will it reconcile its growing alignment with Russia—serving as a re-export hub for Russian goods despite Western sanctions—with its Western alliances?

Ultimately, artificial intelligence and technological ambition alone cannot answer these dilemmas. The UAE may discover that its only escape from dependence on great powers is by entering a new web of dependency—one in which Israel emerges as the central hub of a regional security–economic order, carrying profound existential risks for the Emirates in both domestic and regional arenas.