By Mustapha Gembu
Recent developments surrounding America’s blacklisting of Nigeria on the alleged grounds of a “Christian genocide” raise serious concerns about the true motives behind such actions. While the United States presents its position as a humanitarian intervention, evidence suggests a deeper, more strategic interest—namely, the exploitation of Nigeria’s vast natural resources.
Nigeria is abundantly endowed with oil, gas, and solid minerals, including gold in Zamfara and large deposits of lithium in Nasarawa and Kwara States, among others scattered across the country. These resources have become increasingly critical to the global energy transition, particularly lithium, which is essential for the production of electric vehicle batteries and modern technologies. It appears that America’s narrative of “protecting Christians” may, in reality, serve as a convenient cover for advancing its economic and geopolitical interests.
It is worth questioning America’s moral authority in this matter. The same nation that continues to fuel the Russia–Ukraine conflict—where millions of Christians on both sides are suffering—cannot credibly claim to be a global defender of Christian lives. Furthermore, the United States has remained largely silent on the ongoing atrocities in Gaza, where both Muslims and Christians are victims of violence. This selective concern exposes the inconsistency and possible hidden motives behind its involvement in Nigeria’s internal affairs.
Even more ironic is America’s self-proclaimed identity as a “Christian nation” and global protector of Christians, despite its open departure from the moral values it claims to defend. The same country that seeks to lecture the world on faith and human rights has legalized homosexuality, endorsed same-sex marriage—even in some churches—and promotes these practices under the banner of “human rights,” contrary to the clear teachings of Christ and the Bible. Many of its churches now stand empty on Sundays, while millions flock instead to clubs, bars, or stadiums to watch games and football. Yet this same America dares to accuse Nigeria of “Christian persecution.” What a hypocrisy at its peak!
The world has seen this pattern before. Under the guise of “protecting global security,” America once invaded Iraq on the false pretext of weapons of mass destruction, only to exploit its oil and gold reserves. Today, Venezuela finds itself under similar pressure, as U.S. warships surround its shores under the pretext of combating drug trafficking—an excuse conveniently targeting one of the world’s largest oil producers whose leadership refuses to submit to U.S. interests.
Since the Trump administration’s decision to blacklist Nigeria for alleged “Christian persecution,” it has become increasingly clear that such accusations are less about human rights and more about strategic resource control. If the United States insists on intervening in Nigeria under the pretext of protecting Christians, then by the same logic, Nigeria has the right to invite Russia, China, or Iran to protect Muslims who are being killed by militia groups in Plateau, Taraba, and Benue States, as well as by IPOB terrorists in the southeastern region. Such a move would expose the hypocrisy of America’s selective concern for human rights and reveal that its interventions are driven not by compassion, but by competition.
The broader global context also sheds light on America’s renewed interest in Africa. The Middle East is drifting away from U.S. influence, with major players like Saudi Arabia joining the BRICS alliance and strengthening ties with countries such as Pakistan—a nuclear power. The Houthi blockade of the Bab al-Mandab Strait and Iran’s threat to close the Strait of Hormuz have further complicated America’s access to global oil supplies. Meanwhile, the ongoing U.S.–China trade war has heightened Washington’s desperation to secure alternative sources of vital minerals—especially rare earth elements used in high-tech manufacturing.
In this light, Nigeria’s resource wealth becomes an attractive target. Cloaking intervention in the language of “Christian protection” merely softens the public image of what is, in truth, a geopolitical resource strategy.
Until the United States demonstrates consistency in its concern for all victims of violence—Christian, Muslim, or otherwise—its claims of humanitarian intervention will continue to be viewed with skepticism. What Nigeria and the rest of Africa must guard against is not an imagined religious conflict, but the exploitation of their resources under the mask of moral rescue.