How Britain plans to keep Zimbabwe poor

Published: 6 hours ago

After decades of isolation, Britain has returned to Zimbabwe - not with apologies, but with a billion-dollar shopping list and a polished script about "mutual benefit." At the centre of the conversation? Lithium. Suddenly, Zimbabwe's lithium is "strategic" to Britain's green energy transition and its defence ambitions.

But let's be clear: this is not a new chapter. It's the same old colonial playbook, only with new buzzwords. Gone are the civilising missions of the Rhodesian era - in their place are "critical minerals partnerships." The intent, however, remains unchanged: extract raw materials from Africa, ship them to Europe for processing, and sell the finished products back at a premium.

This is the economic model that has kept countries like Zimbabwe tethered to the bottom of the global value chain. And now, at the very moment Zimbabwe is trying to break free, Britain has come knocking again.

But there's a twist this time - and it comes from the East.

Since 2021, China has invested over $1 billion in Zimbabwe's lithium sector. The Chinese are not just interested in digging up ore and leaving behind hollowed-out hills. They're building local processing facilities - a crucial step that allows Zimbabwe to retain more economic value from its natural resources.

That single shift - from raw extraction to local processing - is precisely what the British model avoids. And it's why Zimbabwe's decision to ban lithium concentrate exports from January 2027 is such a seismic move. It signals a clear intention: Zimbabwe wants to control its mineral wealth and benefit from more than just royalty fees and job crumbs.

And therein lies the conflict. Britain's industrial appetite is predicated on buying lithium concentrate at low prices. If Zimbabwe follows through with its 2027 ban, the UK will have to purchase processed lithium sulphate instead - a product worth significantly more, and one that supports Zimbabwean jobs, skills, and infrastructure.

That, of course, is a problem for Britain. The real profit margins are hidden in the cheapest parts of the chain - mining and raw exports. Britain's discomfort is not about feasibility; it's about losing control over the parts of the supply chain where it's made its fortune for centuries.

Let's not romanticise China's involvement. It too is motivated by self-interest, and it still processes most of its lithium into battery-grade materials in Chinese facilities. But unlike Britain, China's current approach aligns, at least temporarily, with Zimbabwe's strategic goal of local beneficiation.

In simple terms: Britain wants Zimbabwe to remain a quarry, while China is (for now) willing to help it become a refinery.

The crucial question facing Zimbabwe is not whether one power is more benevolent than the other. It's which version of exploitation allows us more leverage. Which partner, when pushed, allows us to climb one more rung up the value chain? Which one is prepared to invest in our development, rather than just our depletion?

This is the test of Zimbabwe's foreign policy maturity. It will have to disappoint someone. Either it frustrates British ambitions by insisting on value-added exports - or it risks undermining its own economic vision by folding under pressure and reopening the gates to raw resource plunder.

What's at stake is not just a bilateral deal or two. What's at stake is whether Zimbabwe finally reclaims its right to determine how its resources are used - and who profits from them.

In 2027, the mask will slip. If Britain backs away, it will confirm what many Zimbabweans already suspect: that "partnership" is just a polite word for extraction on favourable terms - favourable to London, not Harare.

Until then, Zimbabwe must hold the line. Because a future of dignity and prosperity will not be built on foreign favours - but on the courage to say no to old games, no matter how they are dressed.
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Tags: Lithium,