As Palestinians continue to suffer at the hands of Israel's genocidal war against Gaza, civilians from around the world are taking matters into their own hands. In North Africa, the Al-Soumoud Convoy (Arabic for "steadfast resistance") aims to travel from Algeria through Tunisia, Libya, and Egypt to Rafah to deliver aid.

Buses and private cars full of hopeful adults of all ages left Tunis on Monday, June 9, expecting to arrive at the Egyptian border with Gaza after June 12, picking up volunteers along the way. Their courage is admirable, and many around the world are relieved that, finally, someone is taking action.

"At best, we hope the Al-Soumoud convoy helps the global effort to reopen the Rafah crossing to aid and amplify the call to break the siege and end the genocide. It's about breaking the complicity of governments, including pro-Zionist Arab regimes, but also the silence of international institutions," Algerian researcher and activist Raouf Farrah tells OkayAfrica.

Farrah is participating as an individual activist, helping by gathering supplies and transporting materials. "We want this action to reignite popular mobilization across borders and force governments to reckon with their inaction," he continues. "At the very least, the convoy sends a clear message: from Tunis to Algiers to Libya, Egypt, and Morocco, people are rising in solidarity with Gaza."

The majority of North Africans have been in solidarity with Palestinians for decades, but their governments have resorted to performative criticism of Israel's occupation. In Egypt, dozens of pro-Palestinian Egyptians, including minors, have been arrested for practicing solidarity; at least 150 currently remain in pretrial detention facing charges of terrorism.

This makes North Africa a complex and unlikely place for such a show of civilian force post-2011. Especially in Egypt, many doubt that the Al-Soumoud Convoy will be allowed to cross the highly militarized Sinai Peninsula.

The situation is complicated by the Global March to Gaza, comprising delegations from over 50 countries that plan to walk from Al-Arish to Rafah on June 13. The organization is separate but in coordination with the convoy. This is not the first time a delegation has tried to reach Rafah; the Egyptian government thwarted efforts in 2023.

"It is a source of disappointment and embarrassment for all Egyptians that our government is highly unlikely to allow either the Tunisian or global marches to make their way to Rafah. The Egyptian government has since the beginning of the genocidal war in Gaza restricted access by Egyptian citizens and Egyptian and foreign media to come even close to the area, except for highly choreographed assemblies by its ardent supporters and pro-government media," Hossam Bahgat, Executive Director of the Egyptian Initiative for Personal Rights, tells OkayAfrica.

The Al-Soumoud convoy is aware of the difficult political situation on the ground. Farrah shares, "We expect obstacles — from political obstruction to tight control and possibly limited repression, as well as logistical challenges, especially at borders with Egypt. But the will is firm. This convoy is a rejection of indifference and an act of dignity from below."

However, many Egyptians and Palestinians were concerned that the march volunteers lacked understanding of the immediate danger that comes with any sort of political action in Egypt. "We have built access to medical structures for displaced Palestinians with immense care, caution, and trust over more than a year and a half. These networks are fragile. They can disappear overnight if outside actors disrupt the political balance we've been carefully navigating," Lucy Mahfouz, a local aid worker who uses an alias for security reasons, tells OkayAfrica.

She continues, "People live here. Palestinians live here, and they are already being watched, harassed, denied access to care, or worse. What is framed as a symbolic gesture or a media action by international activists could have devastating, long-term consequences for them."

American author and human rights advocate Hannah Claire Smith is determined to join the march. "After 20 months of a live-streamed genocide, it's clear that educating people online about the ongoing atrocities isn't enough," she says. "It's time to escalate our advocacy and demand more from the international community."

Irish podcaster Danielle Cooper also flew to Cairo. "We want to amplify the voice of the global anti-genocide community and put pressure on governments who aren't doing anything," she says. "I'm not anticipating many obstacles; we aim to protest peacefully. The only challenges we may face are trekking through the Sinai desert in the blistering heat, which is a drop in the ocean compared to what the people of Palestine are facing every day."

"We have sent letters from the different international delegations to the Egyptian embassies. Parliamentarians have sent letters on our behalf to the Egyptian government. We have worked on our discourse, content of communication with the press, and chart of ethics, and I feel we have taken all the necessary steps to guarantee permission," says Saif Abukeshek, chair of the international committee of the Global March to Gaza. "We see Egypt as part of the solution, and we count on their support to fulfill our mission and reach the border."

The willingness of these volunteers, who are said to be thousands, to set aside their daily lives and physically show up in this moment of moral urgency should be an inspiration and a reminder for all of us that we must do better. Everyone has a role to play, and nobody will be free until all of us are free.

At the same time, doing better means listening to those on the ground and considering the long-term consequences and practicality of political action. In an ideal world, the convoy and march join forces and walk to Rafah, supported by the Egyptian government, to open a humanitarian corridor and finally end the siege. The reality, however, looks different.

On Wednesday, June 11, the Egyptian government published a statement reaffirming the regulations governing visits by foreign delegations to areas adjacent to the Gaza Strip, including Al-Arish and the Rafah border crossing.

As of today, June 12, Cairo authorities have detained and deported dozens of foreign nationals arriving in Egypt for the Global March to Gaza. There are reports of hotel raids in central Cairo, with several activists arrested. One organiser told news agency AFP that more than 200 foreign citizens had been detained at the Cairo airport since Wednesday.

Meanwhile, the Al-Soumoud convoy has not yet been granted permission to traverse Eastern Libya, which is under the control of General Khalifa Haftar, whose government is closely aligned with the Egyptian President.

None of this comes as a surprise to Egyptians.

"At the very least, we hope to show the people of Gaza they are not alone and to force the international community to reckon with its complicity," says Smith. "Even if governments don't act immediately, we believe mass mobilization can shift what's politically possible."

To this, Mahfouz says, "If a regime that has brutally repressed any form of Palestinian solidarity is suddenly letting foreign nationals approach the border and post about it freely, you should ask: who is benefiting from this? Because it is clearly not the Palestinians living here. If anything, this kind of action allows the regime to posture while cracking down even harder on those who stay behind. It risks turning solidarity into a stage, while those living under daily surveillance pay the price."

This story was originally posted June 10, 2025 at 3:52 p.m. and has been updated.

June 12, 10:19 a.m. Updated to include updates of participant deportations by the Egyptian government.

Currently, no African head of state is more popular and beloved than Burkina Faso’s Captain Ibrahim Traoré. Last Wednesday, in Ouagadougou, thousands of Burkinabes poured out into the streets for rallies in support of Traoré, who came into power in September 2022 through the second coup in the country that year.

The rallies followed the announcement of a foiled coup plan and statements by General Michael Langley, commander of U.S. Africa Command, critical of Traoré and his governing style. At a Senate Armed Services Committee hearing in early April, Langley accused Traoré of misusing Burkina Faso’s substantial gold reserves to protect his military regime, rather than benefiting his country’s citizens.

Always spotted in his army fatigues, with a gun at his waist, Traoré is widely valorized as a living revolutionary, an ideal figure in times when Africa’s leadership crisis has only deepened. Since ousting Lieutenant Colonel Paul-Henri Damiba, Traoré - who, at just 37, is the world’s youngest head of state - has presented himself as a leader guided by his dedication to transforming Burkina Faso, while taking a stance against neocolonialism.

Similar to Mali and Niger, both junta-ruled allies and co-founding members of the Alliance of Sahel States, Traoré has severed Burkina Faso’s ties with former colonial rulers France, and has publicly denounced Western imperialism. His primary missions are to stabilize the country’s dire security concerns due to Islamist insurgency and improve his country’s economic fortunes, where over 60 percent of the population is multidimensionally poor.

To achieve his goals for economic growth, Traoré’s government has nationalized two gold mines, stopped the exportation of unrefined gold, and started work on a refinery expected to process 150 tonnes of gold annually. In addition to gold, Burkina Faso is rich in minerals, including zinc, manganese, copper, and phosphate, as well as untapped reserves of diamonds and bauxite.

Between his charisma as a self-proclaimed revolutionary, noble intentions, and defiant stance towards Western powers, it’s not surprising that Traoré has attracted the adulation of millions of Africans, despite being an autocratic ruler.

Shortly after Langley’s comments, Traoré bluntly stated that democracy was out of the question in Burkina Faso’s near future as far as he’s concerned. “If we have to say it loud and clear here, we are not in a democracy, we are in a popular, progressive revolution,” he said, adding that freedom of expression in this system is “[how] we end up with a society of disorder.” While these statements, which seem despotic, should drum up loud criticisms, Traoré is immune due to being placed on the revolutionary pedestal.

The zeal behind the support for Traoré is also tied to the many accusations and conspiracies of Western powers antagonizing African and Global South leaders, heralded as revolutionaries. For instance, Traoré has been hailed as the reincarnation of Captain Thomas Sankara, the revered Burkinabe military leader and revolutionary killed in a coup allegedly sponsored by France and the West.

From Ghana’s Kwame Nkrumah to DR Congo’s Patrice Lumumba, the role of Western and former colonial powers in removing beloved leaders and potentially destabilizing African countries has made many disillusioned and defensive when it comes to beloved leaders. That’s why criticisms instantly trailed Langley’s comments, especially as they were framed within the context of U.S. interests in West Africa and junta-ruled states allying with Russia and China.

Traoré is inching towards three years in power, and has about four years left as Burkina Faso’s military president. Last year, he upended his initial promise to return the country to democracy in July 2024, and a national dialogue, which civil society groups largely boycotted, recommending that he remain in power for five more years. The recommendation cites the country’s security situation and allows Traoré to run for election after the transition period.

The Islamist insurgency in Burkina Faso, which was cited as the main reason for both 2022 coups, has yet to get any better since the military came into power. About 40 percent of the country is still out of government control, and the army has barely gained ground in recovering areas taken by insurgents. Damningly, military forces have allegedly contributed to the deaths and rights abuses of civilians.

A Human Rights Watch report alleged that over 200 people were summarily executed by security forces based on accusations of collaborating with Islamist groups. In the last decade, tens of thousands have been killed, and over two million people have been displaced due to the insurgency. Traoré and his military government have yet to find a solution to the security concerns, and there’s no stated timeline against which to measure his performance.

For the most part, the adulation and acclaim for Traoré are primarily ideological, which raises skepticism about what he can achieve on a tangible scale. History also shows that African military leaders and revolutionaries tend to reveal a darker side as they spend more time in power. In Uganda, long-term President Yoweri Museveni came into power as a revolutionary and is now known as a strongman despite the East African country nominally operating as a democracy. It’s similar to Zimbabwe’s Robert Mugabe, who was forced to step down after decades of bad economic policies that continue to haunt the southern African country.

Generally, military governments in Africa have failed to yield positive outcomes. Even when they start with widespread support, they often leave citizens disillusioned. Across the continent, the second half of the 20th century was defined by militarism, an “ideology of rule by soldiers,” according to Samuel Fury Childs Daly in his book Soldier’s Paradise, which examines the patterns of African military governments. “Nearly all militaries wanted to transform their countries, even though they didn’t always spell out exactly what they wanted them to become,” Daly writes.

The last thing Africa needs is leaders who can’t be held accountable and can lord their power over citizens without checks, even if they present themselves as crusaders. Having that level of power can corrupt, as the past has shown.

Traoré could very well be the type of leader who breaks the wheel, but he’s dabbling in established behaviors typical of military governments, especially restricting the country’s social and political atmosphere. Media in the country is also tightly controlled; the junta suspended a handful of media outlets for reporting on the alleged massacre, as published in the Human Rights Watch report.

In 2023, Traoré signed a general mobilization decree that allows the government to randomly conscript people aged 18 and above to fight against insurgents. Critics have decried the implementation of the decree as a way to target independent voices, such as journalist and activist Daouda Diallo, who was abducted and held to be conscripted for four months.

Amidst celebrating his anti-Western stance and autocratic leadership, the jury is still out on Captain Traoré’s legacy as an African leader. The next few years will show whether he’s truly earned the revolutionary tag or is in the same lineage as his predecessors across the continent over the decades.

When U.S. Secretary of State Marco Rubio announced in April that President Donald Trump's administration had revoked visas for all South Sudanese citizens, citing South Sudan’s failure to accept deportees “in a timely manner,” it sounded like South Sudan was being punished for refusing to cooperate.

But the reality was far more ridiculous and unfair.

The problem centered on a single passenger: a man on a U.S. deportation flight whom South Sudan refused to accept because he was Congolese, not South Sudanese. Yet America didn’t care.

Even after South Sudan capitulated days later and agreed to take in the Congolese man, “in the spirit of friendly relations,” the U.S. has kept the visa revocation in place. Friendly relations, it seems, are one-sided.

Across social media, South Sudanese described it as American bullying. South Sudan’s Information Minister, Michael Makuei Lueth, told the media that the U.S. was “attempting to find faults with the tense situation” in the country.

“No sovereign nation would accept foreign deportees,” he said.

South Sudan is the world’s youngest country and is on the brink of renewed civil war, threatening over 11 million people.

And yet, from the African Union and other African heads of state? Silence.

That silence is telling and extremely dangerous.

South Sudan’s visa crisis came amid rumors of a draft U.S. travel ban list in which most of the countries are African.

This is just one example of how Trump’s second-term “America First” agenda has hurt Africa, with little pushback from leaders. Since returning to office, he has frozen billions of dollars in aid, ended Power Africa, and imposed new tariffs that threaten African Growth and Opportunity Act (AGOA) trade and jobs across the continent. His policies are also threatening African students studying in the U.S.

Even South Africa, already punished after Trump suspended aid and controversially offered asylum to white Afrikaners, stood alone as it expelled the U.S. ambassador. There is no solidarity from neighbors. No AU statement.

Some may see America stepping back as a push toward self-reliance or simply wish to avoid Washington’s ire. And the African Union may still be adjusting under new leadership. The newly elected AU Commission Chairperson and commissioners took office in March.

But history shows the AU can speak up. In 2017, then-AU Commission Chair Nkosazana Dlamini-Zuma condemned Trump’s travel ban on several Muslim-majority countries.

“The very country to which many of our people were taken as slaves during the transatlantic slave trade has now decided to ban refugees from some of our countries,” she told the AU summit in Addis Ababa. “What do we do about this? Indeed, this is one of the greatest challenges to our unity and solidarity.”

Today, the challenge remains, but unity and solidarity seem missing.

If Africa’s institutions won’t stand up for their citizens, who will?