Poor Zambia. What did it do to deserve such unwanted attention to be misspoken of in such a manner – and in the so-called mother of all Parliaments?

UK Prime Minister Boris Johnson announced in mid-June that the rock star department of British foreign policy, the Department for International Development(DFID), would be reabsorbed into the Foreign and Commonwealth Office (FCO), which will become the Foreign, Commonwealth and Development Office.

“We give as much aid to Zambia as we do to Ukraine, though the latter is vital for European security. We give ten times as much aid to Tanzania as we do to the six countries of the Western Balkans, which are acutely vulnerable to Russian meddling.” Johnson went on to intimate that UK aid was interfering in diplomatic efforts to dissuade one leader from chopping off another’s head.

Launching a new policy with an insult is Johnson’s stock in trade, playing to his domestic far-right gallery of wistful imperialists who think that Brexit will Make England Great Again (MEGA2021) and that somehow the enormous disruption of dis-integrating trade with the European Union will see Britain ‘rule the waves’ once more! It reinforces Johnson’s personal disregard for Africa – a continent he once dismissed as a blot: “The continent may be a blot, but it is not a blot upon our conscience. The problem is not that we were once in charge, but that we are not in charge anymore.”

As one raised in Zambia, I have lived its post-independence vagaries as it followed Tito (the other one’s) brand of socialism and its shift since the early 1990s, to become the model student of Western democracy and economic liberalism. For years, Yugoslavian advisers moved freely in and out of Lusaka’s State House, while we formed Yugoslavian-style queues nearby for basic foodstuffs as the Yugoslavian brand of socialism failed Zambia. But Zambia was first in the Southern African Development Community (SADC) to completely liberalise its foreign exchange regime, to privatise its failed State-owned mining and electricity companies, and open up farming to foreign investors. In so doing, it moved from being the dirt-poor country of the colonial period to a lower-middle-income country posting – until Covid-19 – two decades of consistently robust economic growth.

Zambia’s democratic Constitution has proved equally robust. Two Presidents have died – of natural causes – in office. Contrary to Johnson’s anachronistic comment, the Constitution kicked in, the Vice President took over on both occasions, and elections were held peaceably within the requisite 90 days.

The DFID’s creation was part of the idealism of the early days of the Tony Blair and Gordon Brown government where they sought to Make Poverty History by giving development a Ministry, a seat at the Cabinet table and a serious budget. Then the UK became the first Organisation for Economic Development and Cooperation (OECD) country to commit to invest 0.7% of Gross National Income on official development assistance (ODA – or aid). In 2015, under David Cameron’s Premiership, that commitment became enshrined in UK law, some 45 years after the United Nations General Assembly had set the 0.7% target.

In practical terms, this translates into a huge amount of spending power – equivalent to between £12-billion and £14-billion a year to fund the DFID’s mandate, which insiders say is often difficult to spend. Then Britain’s focus was on “sustainable development”, on “building partnerships with poorer countries”. And the DFID’s success was that it focused on the defined development needs of the recipient countries and institutions, rather than on a UK government-driven, top down, approach.

A critical part of this success was uncoupling aid from foreign and defence policy and commercial or trade interests. Ironically, this uncoupling had a significant ‘soft power’ effect across Africa: the DFID became a trusted development partner, dispelling any sentiment of an overbearing postcolonial influencer. If imitation is the finest form of flattery, other former colonial rulers followed suit. The DFID’s lexicon has also moved into the private sector, where sustainability and impact investment measures are now de rigeur.

With a substantial budget and strong mandate, the DFID’s independence had grown – including from the government of the day. Cameron was reportedly frustrated that the DFID had strayed from the ‘mother ship’ – though he sought to re-harness it, not break it down. Under Johnson’s latest disruption, Britain’s national security council will oversee foreign aid. Cameron tweeted:“The Prime Minister is right to maintain the commitment to 0.7 – it saves lives, promotes a safer world and builds British influence. But the decision to merge the departments is a mistake.”

The FCO-DFID merger had been on the cards since Johnson served as Foreign Secretary and quickly became aware that the DFID had all the money and the FCO very little. But it’s no merger: Johnson has brought the development agency under the control of the Foreign Ministry. Development is back in its place. In a post-Brexit world, it will be secondary to foreign and defence policy.

A regression for sure: who can forget the Pergau dam scandal when the British government under Margaret Thatcher committed aid to fund a costly dam in Malaysia in exchange for a major arms deal. A former DFID employee lamented that in the current climate of renewed nationalism in the UK, the US and China, it was only a matter of time that the lofty development goals that the DFID embodied would be subsumed to narrow national interest. And what does that mean for Africa? A message: these countries no longer have African countries’ development interests at heart but their own: so caveat emptor – buyer beware.