True African History

Introduction: A Nation on the Tightrope

Rumour and footage echo across the airwaves: youths clashing with police outside the gates of the Dar es Salaam port, protesters in the lake zone blocking highways over soaring fuel prices, whispers in university canteens that the hand unseen belongs not to the street corner agitator but to embassies and energy barons. Tanzania, once celebrated by diplomats for its calm, is today reading the weather of unrest. That restlessness, and the brisk denials from State House, demand a clear-eyed appraisal. Who is shaking the branches, and to what end?

We approach the question not through the safe glass of liberal civics, but through the sterner lens of realpolitik. We assume neither innocence nor guilt; we recognise instead the durable logic of dependency that has shaped the republic since the Union flag was first raised over the Indian Ocean. Tanzania is no island afloat in still water. It is a nodal point where global capital, strategic chokepoints, and postcolonial memory intersect. Each moment of disturbance is a negotiation, each protest slogan a bid in a larger auction among patrons competing for influence.

Unrest, here, is seldom wholly local. It may be sparked by labour grievances or rising maize prices, yet it is quickly coaxed by actors who see in Tanzanian streets the leverage to tilt contracts or elections. The ruling elite knows this well. They have perfected, over decades, the art of bargaining between rival sponsors: Beijing and New Delhi, Brussels and Washington, Dubai and Doha. When stones fly at riot police, the government counts signatures on concession agreements to see whose interests might benefit from agitation. When opposition leaders are tear gassed, embassies issue calibrated statements, mindful of port tenders and gas blocks.

This essay walks that fraught ground. It traces Tanzania’s recalibration across five fronts—trade, resources, infrastructure, security, and the domestic arsenal of control—and reads each through the duel of foreign ambition and elite preservation. The purpose is neither to praise nor to condemn. Instead, we seek to understand how unrest, both real and manufactured, fits into a broader strategy: a state that remains structurally dependent, yet strives to turn its shackles into bargaining chips, keeping all masters at an arm’s length while never quite breaking free. The drama of Tanzania today is thus the oldest postcolonial story retold: the dance of sovereignty amid the drums of competing patrons, conducted by an elite determined that, whatever tune is played, they remain the drummers.

The Trade Front

Tanzania has asserted an uncompromising stance on trade deals to guard its economic sovereignty. In 2017 it famously refused to sign the European Union’s proposed Economic Partnership Agreement (EPA) with the East African Community, deriding it as a neo-colonial imposition. The EPA would have maintained duty-free EU access while gradually lowering East African tariffs, a prospect that raised alarms in Dar es Salaam. Tanzanian leaders feared a flood of European imports would undercut nascent industries, and that banning export duties on raw materials would stifle plans for local value-addition. Influential elders in the ruling party – notably former President Benjamin Mkapa – long reinforced this hostility, ensuring that even under new leadership the policy remains unchanged. Neighbouring Kenya, desperate to secure its EU market access after outgrowing least-developed status, broke ranks and inked a bilateral EPA in 2023. But Tanzania held firm, prioritising its long-term industrial ambitions over regional pressure. This defiant posture on the trade front reflects the realpolitik of values at play: principles of “fair trade” and sovereignty are wielded to justify tough bargaining. The stance is popular domestically, aligning with a statist-nationalist wing of the elite that resists any deal seen to curtail economic independence. Yet it also highlights Tanzania’s delicate balancing act – seeking preferential access and investment on its own terms, while diversifying partners to avoid overdependence on any single bloc. The government’s rhetoric of self-reliance resonates with nationalist nostalgia, but it masks a pragmatic client strategy. By opting out of the EPA, Tanzania signals that it will not be tethered to one-sided arrangements, preferring to cultivate a range of trade relationships (from China to regional African markets) that can be played off against one another. It is a calculated bid for leverage, diversifying patrons to increase leverage even as the country remains dependent on external markets. The zombie elite of the ruling CCM party recycles old anti-imperialist slogans not merely as dogma, but as tools to negotiate better terms. In this way, Tanzania asserts a kind of tactical trade sovereignty – less a step toward true economic autonomy than a maneuver to renegotiate dependency on more favorable terms.

The Resource Front

Nowhere is Tanzania’s push-and-pull between resource nationalism and foreign capital more evident than in its handling of natural resources. During the late President John Magufuli’s tenure – the high-water mark of the CCM’s populist wing – the state launched an aggressive campaign to wrest back control of mining wealth. In 2017, Magufuli’s government slapped Acacia Mining (majority-owned by Barrick Gold) with an astonishing $190 billion tax bill for alleged underreporting, and banned the export of mineral concentrates. This brinkmanship forced Barrick to the table. By late 2019 a deal was struck: Barrick paid $300 million in back taxes and created a new joint company, Twiga Minerals, granting the government effective 50% share of economic benefits and a 16% stake in Barrick’s three gold mines. It was a rare victory for resource nationalism – Tanzania’s leaders had stared down a mining giant and extracted concessions once thought fanciful. Magufuli’s hardball tactics, couched in the language of sovereignty and fairness, electrified the public and cemented his populist wing’s influence. Yet the aftermath also exposed the costs: investor confidence wavered, mines halted operations, and Tanzania was saddled with a reputation for unpredictability. The clientelism inherent in the system meant that even as the state proclaimed itself champion of the people, the spoils of Twiga Minerals became subject to political patronage and elite oversight, reinforcing CCM’s control rather than fundamentally reforming the sector.

Under President Samia Suluhu Hassan, a more technocratic-business sensibility has tempered but not erased this resource nationalism. High-stakes negotiations over the country’s vast offshore natural gas illustrate the new approach. Tanzania holds an estimated 47 trillion cubic feet of natural gas, luring majors Shell and Equinor to plan a $42 billion LNG export terminal. Talks stalled repeatedly in past years as Magufuli’s administration passed laws asserting greater state shares and restricting international arbitration. Since 2021, President Samia’s government has re-engaged the oil companies with a more conciliatory tone – but still on Tanzania’s terms. A framework agreement was signed in 2022 to move the LNG project forward, yet by early 2025 the finish line remained elusive. The government pushed for adjustments to profit-sharing and tax terms, keen to avoid what it calls a “bad deal.” Energy Minister Doto Biteko openly acknowledged that additional incentives and safeguards are being negotiated to “make the project viable for both of us,” with a hoped completion of talks by mid-2025. This protracted bargaining highlights the contest between Tanzania’s desire to maximize value from its resources and investors’ need for stable, attractive terms. It is essentially a struggle over who will be the client and who the patron. The ruling elite’s “realpolitik of values” is evident: nationalist slogans about sovereignty and “benefiting the people” are deployed to justify driving a hard bargain, while in private the leaders seek a deal that will also secure them rents and political dividends. The statist-nationalist faction within CCM demands that Tanzania not be a mere raw material appendage of multinational firms – hence laws requiring domestic processing and majority state stakes remain largely intact. But the technocratic-business faction worries that without some compromise and legal reliability, much-needed investments will flee to friendlier climes (neighbouring Mozambique’s own LNG projects loom large). Caught between these currents, President Samia has quietly reversed some of Magufuli’s most punitive measures – in 2023 Tanzania settled several Magufuli-era arbitration disputes with foreign investors and even repealed a law that had barred international arbitration for public-private projects. Yet the core resource nationalist legislation from 2017 endures, a testament to the populist wing’s lingering clout and the leadership’s fear of losing domestic face. In sum, Tanzania is not exiting its dependence on external capital in mining and energy; it is attempting to renegotiate the terms of that dependence. The elite’s strategy is to keep multiple suitors in play – Western oil companies, Chinese miners, new investors from the Middle East – so that no single patron can dictate terms. This diversified client strategy may yield marginally better deals for the state, but it does not yet fundamentally empower the citizens at large. The same zombie elite configuration persists: unaccountable officials and their business allies decide behind closed doors how resource wealth is allocated, invoking the people’s name but largely preserving their own interests.

The Infrastructure Front

Major infrastructure deals have become a barometer of Tanzania’s global alignments – and a prize in the tug-of-war among CCM factions. Perhaps no project better epitomizes this than the proposed Bagamoyo port on the Indian Ocean. Conceived under President Jakaya Kikwete in partnership with China’s state-owned China Merchants Holdings and Oman, Bagamoyo was to be a vast new port twenty-five times the capacity of Dar es Salaam’s harbor. But the moment the populist Magufuli took office in 2015, he trained his guns on this flagship Chinese project. He suspended Bagamoyo and in 2019 publicly blasted the terms as something “only a drunkard would agree to”. Magufuli claimed the Chinese port deal demanded a 99-year lease and an exclusion clause barring Tanzania from other port developments – conditions he portrayed as an insult to sovereignty. His dramatic scuttling of Bagamoyo was a political masterstroke domestically, allowing his nationalist wing to declare victory over predatory foreign capital (even if some saw it as also a swipe at his predecessor Kikwete’s legacy). But it also chilled relations with China and left Tanzania without the promised infrastructure upgrade. Fast forward to 2021: President Samia, keen to shed Tanzania’s new image as hostile to investors, quietly revived talks on Bagamoyo. Her government went on a charm offensive to rehabilitate the project’s reputation. Officials denied the existence of any 99-year lease or unreasonable terms, suggesting Magufuli had exaggerated for populist theatrics. Still wary of overdependence on Beijing, Samia’s administration has sought to reframe Bagamoyo as a multi-partner venture, courting alternative financiers from the West and Gulf. Indeed, she announced that partners from the US, Belgium, Dubai and beyond might join the port development. This move signaled an internal power shift: the technocratic-business faction favoring pragmatic engagement and diversified funding regained the upper hand, at least for a time, over the Magufuli-era isolationists. Yet the ghost of Magufuli’s clientelist politics lingers – to avoid appearing to “sell out,” the current government must proceed carefully, emphasizing that no single foreign power will own Bagamoyo’s future. In effect, Tanzania is saying to China: we welcome you, but not on exclusive terms.

If Bagamoyo’s fate illustrated a swing of the pendulum, the saga of Dar es Salaam’s port deals has been an even more immediate test of Tanzania’s recalibration. In 2022, President Samia’s government inked an Inter-Governmental Agreement with Dubai’s DP World to modernise and operate several berths at Dar es Salaam, the country’s main port. This deal with the Emiratis was pursued with a sense of urgency – Dar’s port has been inefficient and losing ground to regional rivals, jeopardising Tanzania’s ambitious Standard Gauge Railway and trade expansion plans. By bringing in DP World’s capital and expertise under a 30-year concession, the technocratic wing aimed to kill two birds with one stone: upgrade critical infrastructure and diversify Tanzania’s partners by tapping Gulf investments. However, when the DP World agreement draft leaked in mid-2023, a firestorm erupted. Opposition politicians and civil society lambasted the agreement as a sovereignty sell-out. The leaked text lacked a clear end date and contained a typical “stabilisation” clause to protect the investor from adverse legal changes – clauses opponents seized upon as proof of neocolonial intent. Conspiracy theories swirled, including unfounded claims that Zanzibar’s ports could be secretly ceded. Sensing the populist tide rising, some CCM hardliners who had once cheered Magufuli’s resource nationalism voiced their misgivings too. In response, the government pushed ahead regardless – parliament ratified the framework, and by October 2023 a detailed contract was signed with DP World to manage eight berths (four exclusively, four jointly with the Tanzanian Ports Authority) for $250 million investment. Crucially, the lease was time-bound to 30 years, and ownership of the port remains with Tanzania, facts the government stressed to rebut the outcry. Even so, the realpolitik logic behind the deal – prioritising efficiency and regional competitiveness over abstract sovereignty – was lost on no one. The administration’s handling of dissent laid bare its authoritarian reflexes: protesters against the port deal were arrested and critics intimidated. This heavy-handed clampdown was meant to signal that the elite would not allow populist backlash to derail what it saw as a vital economic move. It also revealed another facet of the “realpolitik of values”: while espousing openness to investment, the regime simultaneously stifled open debate, choosing order and control over democratic dialogue. Within CCM, the DP World affair marked a victory for the technocratic-business camp, but a fraught one achieved through coercion rather than consensus. It highlighted an internal contradiction – the ruling party seeks to embrace global capital on its own terms, yet fears the very domestic pluralism that such engagement might demand (transparency, accountability, public buy-in).

Meanwhile, a parallel port partnership has quietly unfolded with India, indicating Tanzania’s determination to broaden its options. In May 2024, Tanzania granted a 30-year concession to India’s Adani Ports to operate the Dar es Salaam Container Terminal 2. As part of the deal, Adani acquired a 95% stake in the state-owned company that ran the terminal, for $95 million. Unlike the DP World saga, the Adani agreement stirred little public controversy in Tanzania – partly because it effectively continued an existing private concession (previously held by a Hong Kong firm) and thus flew under the radar of sovereignty hawks. But its significance is profound: it brings in a major Indian player at a time when India is vying for greater influence in East Africa to counter China. For Tanzania, welcoming Adani was another nod to its sophisticated client strategy. Just as it balances Chinese, Western, and Gulf interests, it now incorporates India as a strategic economic partner. Notably, even when Gautam Adani – the eponymous head of the Adani Group – became embroiled in international legal troubles in 2024, Tanzania’s authorities insisted the port contracts would be honored. The message was clear: Tanzania will not lightly cancel deals due to foreign political winds, as long as those deals serve its interests. By playing host to investors from all corners, the country’s elite aims to ensure no single foreign patron can hold it hostage. Internally, this multi-alignment reflects the ongoing jostling of CCM factions: the statist-nationalist old guard is appeased that Tanzania isn’t throwing all its lot in with one great power, the technocrats are pleased to see capital and know-how flowing in, and even the Magufuli nostalgists can claim that by pitting suitors against each other, Tanzania is “getting the best deal” like a prized client. Of course, the irony is that these grand infrastructure gambits still rely on foreign financing and expertise – underlining that Tanzania is re-calibrating its dependence, not escaping it. The ports will be improved and expanded, but by others’ hands. The zombie elite remains content so long as it retains the gatekeeping role, brokering deals in exchange for rents and political support. The infrastructure front thus showcases Tanzania’s new external balancing act, as well as the internal balance of power between reformers and reactionaries. Each port deal carries the imprint of an internal factional victory, even as the country at large inching towards modernisation finds itself enmeshed in new webs of obligation to its diverse partners.

The Security Front

Tanzania’s quest for a more multipolar set of alliances extends into the realm of security cooperation. Historically non-aligned and averse to entangling defence pacts, Tanzania under CCM has nonetheless maintained a small, professional military and participated in international peacekeeping. In recent years, however, the country has diversified its security partners, notably deepening ties with both China and India in a clear bid to recalibrate strategic dependencies. On the face of it, these two relationships might seem incongruous – one with a communist superpower and the other with a fellow democracy – but Tanzania approaches them with the same pragmatic ethos: accept support and training from all sides, avoid exclusive reliance on any one patron, and leverage the interest of each to extract benefits from the other.

China’s security engagement with Tanzania has grown especially visible. In 2024, the two countries (together with Mozambique) conducted their largest joint military exercise to date, dubbed Peace Unity 2024, on Tanzanian soil. This exercise, the fourth of its kind between the People’s Liberation Army and the Tanzanian People’s Defence Force, involved extensive counter-terror drills on land and sea and even saw China deploying heavy equipment and naval assets to East Africa on an unprecedented scale. The spectacle underscored Beijing’s commitment to being a key security partner for Tanzania – a relationship that harkens back to the 1960s when China armed and trained the liberation-era military, but which now is firmly focused on modern strategic interests. Chinese and Tanzanian officials spoke of “deepening mutual trust” and working “shoulder to shoulder” in the fight against threats. Clearly, China views Tanzania as an anchor for its Indian Ocean ambitions, and Tanzania welcomes the advanced hardware and training that come with that. At the same time, Tanzanian leaders are careful to frame this not as an alliance but as part of a broader non-aligned stance. Even as Chinese naval ships visit Dar es Salaam and a Chinese-funded National Defence College quietly shapes a generation of Tanzanian officers, the government maintains cordial defence ties with other powers. This is the realpolitik of values in action again: Tanzania embraces China’s doctrine of non-interference and south-south solidarity (values appealing to the nationalist wing), but ultimately it is the very tangible realpolitik benefit – military capability and an alternative to Western aid – that drives the partnership.

Parallelly, India has emerged as another significant security collaborator. The Indian Navy now makes frequent port calls at Dar es Salaam, and since 2022 India, Tanzania and Mozambique have held an annual trilateral naval exercise (IMT TRILAT) focusing on maritime security. During these drills, Indian warships sail alongside Tanzanian patrol vessels to practice joint anti-piracy operations and coastal defence. India has also stepped up training programs for Tanzanian military personnel and provided equipment support in areas like counter-insurgency and peacekeeping. In October 2022, Prime Minister Narendra Modi’s government unveiled a five-year defence cooperation roadmap with Tanzania, signaling that New Delhi sees Dar es Salaam as a key partner in the Western Indian Ocean region. From Tanzania’s vantage point, courting India offers a twofold advantage: it injects additional resources and expertise into Tanzania’s security forces, and it balances China’s growing weight. The technocratic-business faction of the elite, which often tilts Westwards or towards India due to education and business links, welcomes this engagement as a hedge against overdependence on Beijing. Meanwhile, the statist-nationalist cadre can accept it on South-South fraternity terms, recalling the shared Non-Aligned Movement heritage and India’s support to African causes. Thus, Tanzania manages to have joint military exercises with China one month and with India the next, without committing fully to either camp’s geopolitical agenda. The subtext is that Tanzania will cooperate on security with any nation that respects its autonomy and offers mutual benefit – be it combating piracy in the Mozambique Channel or receiving naval patrol boats and training. Absent from these high-profile exercises is any comparable arrangement with Western powers; Tanzania’s military collaboration with the US and Europe has been limited to peacekeeping training and occasional drills. This too is deliberate. The CCM elite remains wary of Western entanglements that often come laden with lectures on governance and human rights – the “values” that Western partners press can be uncomfortable for a government used to controlling the narrative. China and India, in contrast, do not overtly question Tanzania’s internal politics as a condition for security ties, making them preferred patrons in the eyes of a sovereignty-conscious leadership.

In sum, on the security front Tanzania is again attempting a sophisticated balancing act: receiving capacity-building from multiple powerful friends, avoiding being drawn into great-power rivalries, and shoring up regime security in the process. The outreach to Beijing and New Delhi is yielding tangible improvements – for instance, better equipped forces and joint experience in counter-terror and maritime operations – that reduce Tanzania’s reliance on any single source of military aid. It is a hedging strategy that reflects both non-aligned ideological tradition and cold strategic calculus. However, this too feeds into the preservation of the elite’s rule. A more capable military, trained by and enjoying ties with various foreign powers, ultimately fortifies the state’s coercive instruments. And as these partnerships are handled government-to-government, with minimal public scrutiny, they become yet another domain where the ruling circle can operate without accountability, invoking secrecy and sovereignty. The picture, therefore, is of a Tanzania that is more connected than ever in global security networks – but primarily on the regime’s terms. It has more friends, yet still no real intention of letting those friendships translate into internal liberalisation or reform. By leveraging a clientelist logic even in security, Tanzania extracts resources from multiple patrons and, in return, grants each a foothold, all while its people remain largely spectators to these geopolitical courtships.

The Domestic Arsenal

Behind Tanzania’s assertive maneuvers on the international stage lies a carefully maintained domestic fortification. The ruling CCM elite – fragmented though it may be in ideology – is united in deploying an array of internal policy tools to strengthen its negotiating hand abroad and its grip on power at home. These measures form a domestic arsenal that includes stringent currency controls, constraints on foreign NGOs and donors, and far-reaching information laws. Each is ostensibly justified by appeals to sovereignty or stability, yet each also conveniently empowers the elite to dictate the terms of engagement both with their own citizens and with foreign interlocutors.

One prominent instrument has been the management of currency and capital flows. Tanzania has traditionally kept a relatively controlled foreign exchange regime, but recent pressures (from global inflation and local import surges) prompted the government to tighten the screws further. In 2023 and 2024, as dollar shortages threatened the shilling’s value, the Bank of Tanzania imposed new restrictions to conserve foreign currency. By early 2025, a sweeping ban on domestic use of foreign currencies took effect. All local transactions must now be in Tanzanian shillings; pricing goods in dollars or euros is illegal. Contracts denominated in foreign currency are heavily curtailed, and businesses are barred from refusing payment in shillings. Tourists and investors can still bring in dollars, but only through official channels and licensed exchangers. These measures, presented as bolstering monetary sovereignty, indeed shore up foreign reserves and slow capital flight. They also send a signal externally: Tanzania will not allow uncontrolled forex outflows or sudden withdrawals by investors without a fight. In international negotiations, officials can leverage these controls as both shield and sword – a shield against speculative attacks or abrupt aid freezes, and a sword to pressure companies to reinvest locally (since repatriating profits is not straightforward). Domestically, of course, such controls give the government a tighter leash on the economy. The central bank can manage the shilling’s exchange rate with less market interference, masking underlying weaknesses at least temporarily. The average Tanzanian might feel the pinch through occasional import shortages or a blossoming black market, but the clientelist elite benefits from being able to allocate scarce dollars to itself and its allies first. By restricting who accesses foreign currency and at what rate, the ruling class creates yet another rent stream – those with political connections find ways to obtain hard currency, those without suffer the rules. The currency regulations thus serve a dual purpose: projecting an image of independence and discipline abroad while entrenching patronage at home.

Even more politically charged is the regime’s stance on civil society and information. Since the late 2010s, Tanzania has enacted a raft of laws that have progressively constricted the space for NGOs, media, and opposition voices. Under the banner of defending national values and countering “foreign interference,” the government has treated independent NGOs – especially those with foreign funding or human rights agendas – as potential adversaries. A 2019 law sharply tightened controls on non-governmental organisations, requiring them to publicly declare all foreign funds, register with state authorities, and comply with onerous auditing and reporting mandates. It gave the state broad powers to suspend or shut down NGOs that stepped out of line, and even amended the Companies Act to enable authorities to deregister organisations arbitrarily for “supporting the activities of NGOs” deemed troublesome. The effect was chilling: many advocacy groups and community organisations found themselves entangled in red tape and under constant official watch, if not outright banned. International donors saw their projects scrutinised or stalled. Magufuli’s administration spearheaded this crackdown, but tellingly, the post-Magufuli government has left most of these restrictions in place. President Samia’s rhetoric has been friendlier – she convened some dialogues with civil society and released a few jailed critics – yet the legal structure of control endures. This continuity reveals that regardless of factional nuances, CCM’s preservation instinct overrides all else. By muzzling NGOs and filtering what foreign aid can do on the ground, the Tanzanian elite ensures that clientelism remains the only viable game. Where an independent NGO might empower communities or expose corruption (and thus weaken the elite’s hold), a co-opted or intimidated one becomes just another conduit of patronage, delivering services in exchange for silence. Moreover, by limiting foreign NGOs, the government gains leverage in diplomacy: it can tacitly offer to relax or enforce these rules depending on the tenor of relations with a given country. Western governments often fund Tanzanian civil society; Tanzania’s message in return is, “don’t push us too hard on governance, or we will simply restrict your NGOs further.” It is a cynical bargaining chip, leveraging values for realpolitik ends.

Information control is the third pillar of this domestic arsenal. Tanzania has adopted a slew of media laws that grant authorities wide latitude to police content. The 2015 Cybercrimes Act and the 2016 Media Services Act introduced stiff penalties for publishing “false” or “seditious” information, and empowered the state to suspend newspapers and radio stations. Magufuli wielded these powers readily – outlets that criticised his economic policies or reported on sensitive issues were shut down or intimidated. Under President Samia, there has been a mild thaw (some banned newspapers were allowed to resume), but no comprehensive reform of the restrictive laws. Instead, new regulations on online content, statistics, and even sim card registration have further tightened the state’s grip over what information circulates. By controlling information flows, the CCM government can choreograph the narrative around its international dealings. For instance, when the DP World port deal faced backlash, the state media downplayed the protests and framed the partnership as entirely positive. Independent journalists who dug too deeply or gave voice to critics felt the weight of surveillance and implied threats. In international negotiations, this controlled media landscape means the government rarely has to worry about public pressure weakening its position – there is little chance of a free press sparking mass unrest over, say, an unfavourable contract or a foreign troop presence. The elite can negotiate behind closed doors with the confidence that it can manage or squash any domestic blowback through its information apparatus. This is the “realpolitik of values” turned inward: lofty ideals of free expression or transparency are sidelined in favour of maintaining a united front and state-centric messaging. The CCM factions might squabble amongst themselves in private, but in public they present a carefully curated image of national unity and purpose, untroubled by dissent. This facade is itself a negotiating asset – it signals to foreign partners that Tanzania has stable leadership and no chaotic opposition to worry about, thereby making it a “reliable” client or ally. Of course, it also signals that the leadership is entrenched and unaccountable.

Collectively, these domestic controls – on money, NGOs, media, and more – function as Tanzania’s unsung power base in its recalibration strategy. They ensure that, as the country engages in complex trade-offs with China, India, the EU, or others, the ruling elite’s position at home remains unassailable and its agenda uncontested. The statist-nationalist wing justifies these tools as necessary for protecting the nation’s sovereignty and moral fabric. The technocratic wing accepts them as useful for stability, even if privately chafing at the constraints on openness that might also hinder business climate improvements. The Magufuli-era populists, many of whom equated criticism with treason, see in these laws the continuation of their legacy – a strong state that brooks no nonsense. In truth, these instruments have less to do with genuine sovereignty for the Tanzanian people, and more to do with sovereignty for the ruling class. They allow Tanzania’s elite to be an adept player externally, striking deals and alliances from a position of calculated strength, all the while keeping a tight lid on the domestic pressures that could force their hand or threaten their rule. It is a precariously effective arrangement: tactical gains in sovereignty abroad are paid for by stifling real agency at home.

Conclusion: The Illusion of Exit, The Reality of Leverage

Across the five fronts examined – trade, resources, infrastructure, security, and domestic governance – Tanzania’s ruling establishment is executing a careful recalibration of its place in the world. The picture that emerges is one of tactical sovereignty rather than a wholesale escape from dependency. Tanzania is asserting itself, certainly: it rebuffs European trade deals it dislikes, squeezes mining multinationals for a larger cut, shops for infrastructure partners across geographies, and trains with competing great powers. It has learned to speak with a firmer voice and play patrons against each other. Yet, for all this newfound gumption, Tanzania is not severing the cords of external reliance – it is simply weaving them into a more pliable web. The country’s development still hinges on foreign capital and expertise; its budget still leans on donor support and commodity exports; its military upgrades still come courtesy of friendly powers. What has changed is the savvy with which the Tanzanian elite navigates these realities. They have become connoisseurs of a client strategy: accepting that complete autonomy is a myth, they instead cultivate multiple dependencies so that no single master can claim them. It is, in a sense, a revival of Non-Alignment for the 21st century, but stripped of much idealism – a hard-nosed non-alignment where principles are often postured and interests quietly prevail.

Crucially, this strategy emanates from the imperatives of elite preservation. The CCM party, in power for over six decades, remains a behemoth that tolerates no serious threat to its reign. Its internal factions – statist-nationalists, technocratic reformers, Magufuli-style populists – jockey and feud, but when it comes to maintaining the political order, they close ranks. The recalibration of foreign ties and policies has largely been undertaken from the top down, with minimal input from Tanzanian society at large. It serves to fortify the state’s bargaining position externally, which in turn reinforces the regime’s confidence and means to rule without concessions internally. If Magufuli’s era was about brashly wrestling back control (often at great cost), Samia’s era so far is about subtler maneuvers – reconciling with investors here, mollifying Western partners there, all while never fundamentally loosening the party’s grip at home. This continuity underscores a sobering truth: Tanzania’s elite structure remains unaccountable and locked in a cycle of preservation. The faces at the top may change and their rhetoric oscillate between combative and congenial, but the underlying system – a “zombie elite” that survives by feeding on state resources and patrimonial networks – endures. It adapts rather than transforms.

On the surface, Tanzania today projects an image of a country charting its own course, and to a degree it is. The rest of the world cannot take Tanzania’s alignment for granted; Dar es Salaam will sign deals with whoever offers the best mix of respect and reward. This has won it a higher profile and a certain diplomatic respect. However, for the average Tanzanian citizen, the benefits of this tactical sovereignty are mixed at best. The economy grows, but job creation and poverty reduction remain sluggish. Grand infrastructure is built, but often with heavy debt or opaque contracts. Rights and freedoms are still curtailed, deemed expendable in the name of unity and progress. The realpolitik of values that Tanzania practices means that ideals like democracy, transparency, and social justice are frequently subordinated to what the elite deems pragmatic. And in that pragmatism lies cynicism: values become veneers. Tanzania tells the West it won’t be lectured on democracy (to keep Western criticism at bay), tells China it cherishes friendship (to secure loans, but not too many), tells its African neighbors it stands for self-reliance (even as it courts foreign funds) – all these narratives are means to an end. The end is regime continuity and the gradual accrual of state capacity without loosening the CCM’s monopoly on power.

It would be too harsh to dismiss Tanzania’s recent moves as mere theatrics; there are genuine positives in diversifying economic partners and insisting on fairer deals. These are necessary correctives to decades of lopsided dependency. Yet, they are not sufficient to break the cycle that keeps Tanzania’s development constrained. To truly exit the legacy of dependency, more fundamental shifts would be needed – an empowered citizenry, accountable governance, and an economy that innovates beyond extraction and export of raw commodities. Those shifts remain off the table in the current dispensation. Instead, what we have is a more clever form of clientelism, a sense that Tanzania is playing a smarter game without changing the rules of the game. The ruling elite have proven adept chess players on the global board, but the chessboard itself – the structural position of Tanzania in global hierarchies – has not radically changed.

The mood of the nation, insofar as it can be discerned beneath constrained public discourse, is one of cautious hope tinged with wariness. Tanzanians are proud to see their country stand up to powerful actors when necessary and avoid the pitfalls of debt traps that others fell into. President Samia’s more diplomatic style has re-opened doors and restored some international goodwill lost under her predecessor. But there is also a wariness that this is the same ruling class in a new costume – that the rhetoric of reform conceals the old habits of opaque deals and power preserved for its own sake. Like a classic Achebe or Baldwin narrative, there is a sense of things changing to remain the same. The characters evolve, the plot twists, but the underlying tragedy – an elite locked in self-preservation, a people still seeking true agency – persists.

In closing, Tanzania’s recalibration is a significant chapter in the ongoing story of Africa’s engagement with a multipolar world. It shows both the possibilities and limitations of a mid-sized African state maneuvering for advantage amid competing global suitors. It is neither a tale of capitulation nor of complete liberation, but something more intricate: a dance of the client and the patron where Tanzania sometimes leads and sometimes follows. The coming years will reveal whether this dance can deliver broad-based gains or simply buttress the same old dancers.

Signposts for the Future

• LNG Deal Finalisation: Watch for whether Tanzania concludes the LNG project agreement with Shell/Equinor on schedule. A timely deal, or further delays, will indicate if Tanzania’s resource nationalism is easing enough to unlock investment, or if investors remain unconvinced by the “new” Tanzania. The terms of any final deal (tax incentives granted, profit-sharing structure) will be a bellwether for the elite’s willingness to compromise for growth, or lack thereof.
  
  
• EPA and Trade Alignments: Any movement on the EU-EAC EPA impasse will be significant. If Tanzania continues to stall or permanently withdraw, it may seek alternative trade arrangements – possibly leaning into African Continental Free Trade Area mechanisms or Asia/Gulf markets. Conversely, a change of heart (however unlikely before the 2025 elections) would signal a major technocratic win internally. Also monitor Tanzania’s posture in regional blocs (EAC, SADC) for clues to its trade strategy – a more assertive or skeptical stance in these forums could presage broader realignments.
  
  
• Infrastructure Partnership Outcomes: The implementation of the DP World port concession and progress on the Bagamoyo port revival will merit close scrutiny. Early performance of DP World at Dar es Salaam – improvements in efficiency, revenue gains, or conversely, public discontent – will influence whether such public-private deals multiply or face reversal. Likewise, keep an eye on which investors finally commit to Bagamoyo (e.g. any re-entry by the Chinese or new Western interests) as an indicator of Tanzania’s geopolitical tilt. Should the Adani-led operations prove successful and controversy-free, Tanzania may deepen partnerships with India in other infrastructure sectors (rail, energy).
  
  
• CCM Factional Dynamics in 2025 Elections: The run-up to the 2025 general elections will reveal the balance of power between CCM’s factions. If populist rhetoric resurges – for instance, talk of renegotiating foreign contracts or attacking “looters” – it may mean the Magufuli nostalgists are regaining influence, potentially putting recent deals at risk. Alternatively, if President Samia and allies consolidate control, expect continuity in the current calibrated approach. Clues will come from candidate selection, campaign messaging, and whether opposition parties are given more breathing room or systematically sidelined.
  
  
• Civil Society and Media Space: Finally, track any substantive reforms (or further restrictions) in the NGO and media laws. Meaningful easing of these laws (e.g. amendments to allow more press freedom or foreign NGO activity) would suggest a confidence by the elite to allow a bit of pluralism – and might improve relations with Western partners. On the other hand, new crackdowns (such as arrests of journalists or activists, or internet censorship moves) would signal the regime’s continued reliance on suppression. How Tanzania handles rising social pressures – youth unemployment, local environmental protests around mining, etc. – will also indicate whether the elite’s approach is evolving or calcifying. Real change often germinates in these domestic tests, which in turn shape how Tanzania navigates its external choices.
  
  

Sources:

• Chatham House (2024). Reviving Tanzania’s regional leadership and global engagement – A detailed analysis of Tanzania’s foreign policy shifts under President Samia, including its stance on the EPA (described as a “form of colonialism”), internal reforms, and case studies like the DP World port deal and Bagamoyo project. Offers insight into CCM factional influences on these policies.
• Reuters (Feb 11, 2025). Tanzania hopes to conclude talks for LNG project by June – News report on the status of the $42 billion LNG project negotiations with Shell and Equinor, quoting Energy Minister Doto Biteko on tax incentives and the timeline. Highlights the government’s push for terms that ensure viability “for both of us,” and notes the project’s scale (47 trillion cubic feet of gas).
• Quartz (Oct 20, 2017). Tanzania’s squeeze on mining firms seems to be working as it gets $300 million in back taxes – Article by Abdi Latif Dahir detailing the outcome of Magufuli’s showdown with Barrick Gold/Acacia Mining. It outlines the $190 billion tax claim, the eventual deal for $300 million, 16% government stakes, and the requirement for Barrick to split future economic benefits 50/50 with Tanzania. Provides context on the resource nationalism ethos and its populist appeal.
• DefenceWeb (Aug 2, 2024). Joint military exercise between China, Mozambique and Tanzania underway – Report by Guy Martin on the “Peace Unity 2024” exercise in Tanzania. Describes the scale of Chinese participation (naval flotilla, airlift of troops, heavy equipment) and notes it’s the fourth joint drill since 2014, underscoring growing military ties. Also quotes Tanzanian and Chinese officials on the goals of counter-terror cooperation and deepening trust.
• Business Standard / Reuters (Nov 27, 2024). Tanzania to keep pact with Adani for container terminal, says official – News piece confirming Tanzania’s 30-year concession agreement with India’s Adani Ports to operate Dar es Salaam’s Container Terminal 2, and the acquisition of a 95% stake in the terminal operator for $95 million. Notably includes Tanzania’s commitment to honor the contract despite legal troubles facing Adani abroad, reflecting its pragmatic stance to secure Indian investment.
• Ecofin Agency (May 5, 2025). Tanzania bans use of foreign currencies for domestic transactions – Coverage of the Bank of Tanzania’s new regulations requiring all local pricing and payments in shillings and restricting foreign currency contracts. Provides details on the rules (no dollar-priced goods, mandatory shilling acceptance, limited timeframe for existing dollar contracts) and contextualises the policy as the shilling’s performance shifted from 2024 into 2025.
• CIVICUS Monitor / Amnesty International (Jan 14, 2020). Government tightens reins on civic freedoms – Documentation of legal amendments passed in June 2019 that toughened the NGO Act and other laws. Explains how these changes gave authorities broad powers to suspend NGOs, forced NGOs (and even companies associated with them) to meet burdensome reporting requirements, and curtailed free association and expression. Useful for understanding the legal framework behind Tanzania’s restrictions on foreign-funded civil society and the continuity of these measures.