Here we go again. President Trump’s latest threat to deploy military force against Nigeria represents yet another chapter in Washington’s perpetual delusion that American power can reshape complex societies halfway around the world. The only surprise is that anyone is still surprised.
The rationale being offered—whether framed around counter-terrorism, protecting American interests, or promoting democracy—follows a familiar script. We’ve seen this movie before in Iraq, Libya, Syria and Afghanistan. The plot never changes: initial military success, mission creep, unintended consequences and eventual retreat, leaving chaos in America’s wake.
Nigeria, with its 220 million people, represents Africa’s largest economy and most populous nation. It’s a country riven by ethnic tensions between a predominantly Muslim north and Christian south, facing an Islamist insurgency in the northeast, separatist movements in the southeast, and endemic corruption throughout. Into this volatile mix, Trump proposes to inject American military force. What could possibly go wrong?
The realist assessment is straightforward: Nigeria poses no direct threat to American security. Whatever problems Washington perceives there—terrorism, human rights abuses, or governance failures—do not justify military intervention. The Boko Haram insurgency, tragic as it is, remains a regional challenge, not an American one.
Moreover, the practical obstacles are staggering. Nigeria’s geography, population density, and political complexity make it a far more challenging theater than Iraq or Afghanistan. The Nigerian military, despite its flaws, would likely resist foreign intervention. Regional powers like South Africa would oppose it. The African Union would condemn it. And for what strategic gain?
The usual Washington logic applies: if we don’t act, someone else will fill the vacuum—presumably China or Russia. This zero-sum thinking ignores the reality that not every global problem requires an American solution. Nigerian challenges require Nigerian solutions, perhaps with African regional support.
The economic costs would be astronomical at a time when America faces its own fiscal challenges. The human costs—both American and Nigerian—would be immense. And the political fallout would further erode American credibility across Africa and the Global South, already damaged by decades of perceived hypocrisy.
Trump’s threat also reveals the persistence of bipartisan magical thinking in American foreign policy. Republicans and Democrats alike seem incapable of learning that military force cannot solve fundamentally political problems. Nation-building doesn’t work when the nation in question doesn’t want to be built by foreigners.
The irony is rich: a president who campaigned on ending “forever wars” now contemplates launching a new one in West Africa. This is less about Nigeria than about domestic political theater—projecting strength, distracting from problems at home, satisfying certain constituencies.
What Nigeria needs from America is not military intervention but trade, investment, and diplomatic engagement that respects Nigerian sovereignty. Washington should work with regional partners, support African-led solutions and recognize the limits of American power.
The greatest service Trump could provide would be to resist the temptation to add Nigeria to America’s long list of failed military adventures. But that would require wisdom, restraint and a realistic assessment of American interests and capabilities—qualities consistently lacking in Washington’s foreign policy establishment.
The realist position is clear: stay out. Let Nigerians solve Nigerian problems. Focus American resources on actual threats to American security. Abandon the delusion that every global crisis demands an American military response.
If Trump proceeds with this misguided threat, he’ll join the long line of presidents who learned—too late and at too high a cost—that American military power has limits and that those limits are reached far more quickly than the foreign policy establishment ever admits.
This article was originally published on Leon Hadar’s Global Zeitgeist and is republished with kind permission. Become a subscriber here.
