IS RUSSIA AFRAID OF A FREE PRESS IN AFRICA?

The media will continue to ensure that journalists and analysts ask hard questions, argues OUMAROU SANOU

The recent reaction by the Russian Embassy in Abuja to opinion articles published in various media, even though it singled out THISDAY and The Sun, raises a question that should concern every African and especially Nigerians who value democracy: when confronted with uncomfortable facts and legitimate scrutiny, does Russia engage with evidence, or does it attack the messenger?

Rather than addressing the substance of the arguments raised about insecurity in the Sahel and the conduct of Russian-linked mercenaries, the Embassy chose a familiar authoritarian playbook: dismiss the writers as “paid,” question their legitimacy, and attempt to intimidate independent media platforms for publishing alternative views. This response says far more about Russia’s discomfort with free media than it does about the articles themselves.

Let us be clear. The articles in question were not an attack on Russia as a nation or its people. They were a critical examination of documented events in Mali and the wider Sahel—events reported not only by African journalists but also by international organisations, people, conflict monitors, and, ironically, by the mercenaries themselves on their own digital channels. To conflate scrutiny of actions with hostility toward a state is a tactic often used by regimes that fear accountability.

If Russia believes the facts are wrong, the burden is simple: present counter-evidence. Journalism is not theology; it is not immune to correction. Any responsible journalist, academic or analyst will acknowledge an error when credible proof is provided. What is unacceptable is to replace evidence with insults, or to imply that African media, researchers and intellectuals must seek approval before publishing views that do not flatter foreign powers.

The Embassy’s statement also raises an uncomfortable implication: is Russia now openly assuming ownership or responsibility for mercenary operations in Mali, Burkina Faso, and Niger? If not, why rush to defend them so aggressively? Mercenaries—by definition—are not instruments of sustainable security anywhere in Africa. From Sierra Leone in the 1990s to Libya and now the Sahel, the record is consistent: they deepen violence, weaken national forces, and leave societies more fractured than they found them.

The Embassy insists that reports of abuses are “fake news.” Yet many of the most disturbing confirmations of violence have come from the fighters themselves, shared on verified Telegram channels long before journalists or rights groups referenced them. Are those messages also Western fabrications? Or are we now expected to believe that mercenaries boasting online suddenly become victims of misinformation when their actions attract scrutiny?

More troubling is the attempt to recast legitimate African criticism as foreign manipulation. This is intellectually dishonest. Africans do not need Western scripts to recognise insecurity, repression, or failure when they see it. The worsening security situation in the Sahel is not a theory; it is a lived reality measured in displaced communities, expanding extremist influence, and shrinking civic space. These outcomes deserve examination, not denial.

Nigeria, in particular, must resist any attempt to import external geopolitical quarrels into its public space. This country is sovereign. The media, I must attest, is independent. Nigeria and independent African media: journalists, academics, researchers, and other activists do not exist to please Moscow today or London tomorrow. Their duty is to inform the Nigerian public—especially when developments in neighbouring countries pose security implications. What happens in Mali, Niger, and Burkina Faso does not stay confined to those countries. Arms flows, extremist movements, and displacement cross borders. Silence would be irresponsible.

Equally important is the question of civic space. In countries now governed by military juntas aligned with Moscow, opposition voices are muted, journalists are harassed, and civil society operates under threat. It secretly disseminates some of these articles that irk Moscow. Independent debate is treated as subversion. It is therefore ironic—if not revealing—that Russian officials appear unsettled that Nigerian media still allows dissenting views to be published. That is not a flaw of democracy; it is its strength.

The Embassy argues that Russia offers partnerships “without lectures on democracy.” That line may sound appealing to embattled regimes, but Africans should ask a harder question: does rejecting democratic “lectures” also mean rejecting accountability, transparency, and citizens’ rights? History shows that security built on repression is fragile, and sovereignty traded for silence is hollow.

This episode should serve as a reminder of why press freedom matters. Today, it is Russia taking offence. Tomorrow, it could be any other power—Western or otherwise—unhappy with scrutiny. If we allow foreign embassies to police opinion columns in Nigerian newspapers, we will have surrendered something far more valuable than diplomatic goodwill.

Let me be unequivocal: Nigeria, from my experience, welcomes partnerships, not patronage. They welcome dialogue, not intimidation. They welcome facts, not propaganda. The media will continue to ensure that journalists and analysts ask hard questions—about Russia, the West, and our own leaders in the Sahel and across Africa. That is what free societies do.

If Russia has evidence that contradicts the documented realities in the Sahel, it should present it openly, calmly, and transparently. If not, it should respect the intelligence of Africans and the independence of African media.

The real issue here is not wounded pride. It is fear of scrutiny. And history teaches us that those who fear free media usually have something to hide.

Nigeria and Africa must not look away. A free press is not a Western import; it is a democratic necessity. Anyone uncomfortable with that truth is free to respond—but not to silence it.

Sanou is a social critic, Pan-African observer and researcher focusing on governance, security, and political transitions in the Sahel