In a move that raised more eyebrows than hopes, a senior adviser to former U.S. President Donald Trump has reappeared on the African diplomatic stage, this time in the heart of the Great Lakes region. The envoy, whose name hasn’t been formally disclosed by either government, reportedly held separate meetings with President Paul Kagame of Rwanda and President Félix Tshisekedi of the Democratic Republic of Congo (DRC) to float a “peace plan” for the troubled eastern Congo region.
The proposal, though not yet public, is said to focus on stabilizing mineral-rich North Kivu and Ituri, provinces plagued by decades of violence, displacement, and warlord politics. With the resurgence of M23 rebels, accusations of Rwandan meddling, and the UN’s gradual withdrawal from the region, the timing of the initiative is—at best—complicated.
The Trump camp’s interest in African geopolitics is not entirely out of the blue. During his presidency, Trump made limited engagements in Africa, often through the prism of counterterrorism or Chinese competition. But those moves rarely translated into long-term diplomacy. Now, with eyes on the 2024 U.S. election aftermath and growing speculation around Trump’s next political move, his foreign policy circle appears eager to lay groundwork that suggests global relevance.
Rwandan officials were tight-lipped about the visit, issuing only a brief statement that confirmed a meeting had taken place to “exchange views on regional security.” Congolese officials were more cautious, framing the discussion as exploratory and insisting any real peace plan must begin with “Rwanda ceasing support for destabilizing forces,” a reference to Kigali’s alleged backing of the M23 insurgents—a claim Rwanda denies.
Washington’s State Department, under the current administration, distanced itself from the visit. A spokesperson reiterated that “private citizens do not speak for the U.S. government,” but acknowledged that all efforts toward lasting peace in the DRC “must center on accountability, disarmament, and dialogue.”
Observers in Kinshasa and Goma were skeptical. “We’ve seen a parade of diplomats, NGOs, and self-appointed peacemakers. The real problem is political will,” said Jean-Pierre Mbusa, a civil society leader in eastern Congo. “If this is just about Trump’s people trying to stay relevant, we don’t have time for it.”
Still, the involvement of a former U.S. official does carry symbolic weight, especially in a region where external powers—from Belgium to China—have historically played oversized roles. Whether this particular intervention offers substance or merely spectacle remains to be seen.
As regional armies continue their offensive operations, and millions remain displaced, it will take more than a handshake in Kigali or a high-level photo op to steer the Congo away from crisis. And if Trump’s man is serious, he may find that peacemaking in Central Africa requires more than charisma—it demands credibility.
