In September, Qatar unveiled plans for a staggering $100 billion investment push into Africa.

Agriculture, infrastructure and energy were placed at the heart of the venture. Stakeholders called it a “milestone” not only for Africa but also towards food security for a desert nation that imports nearly all of its food. This extends a pattern of state-backed and family-linked deals which can be labelled as geopolitical agribusiness. 

It is not only Qatar that has made grand announcements. Across the Gulf, from Riyadh to Abu Dhabi, officials and sovereign funds are doubling down on Africa as climate change, rising populations and geopolitical shocks threaten the global food chain. 

On paper, the logic is clear. The Gulf’s desert climate leaves it with little arable land and dwindling water reserves. Africa, by contrast, is home to vast tracts of farmland, rivers and a young workforce. 

The hope is that Gulf states’ capital can unlock Africa’s agricultural potential, building infrastructure and thereby boosting productivity. As one UAE analyst put it, the projects could “feed both Africa and the Gulf if managed wisely”. 

Dismal outcomes

This would be akin to what US capital achieved with Latin American agriculture from the 1980s onwards, where capital investment has produced a major net-food-exporting region thanks to two agricultural heavyweights, Argentina and Brazil. Without Latin America, today’s world would feel acute food insecurity in both developed and developing countries. 

But the “partnership” label obscures a messier reality. Land acquisition and agricultural leaseholding by outsiders have long generated accusations of land grabbing, especially by international NGOs and European donors. Since 2010 these have set up databases such as landmatrix.org to document land sales and investments in developing countries.

The rationale for resistance to FDI in land is clear: local communities often complain of displacement, opaque contracts and projects geared toward export rather than domestic food markets. 

In countries with weak governance, deals are often negotiated between Gulf investors, African governments and sometimes local political elites behind closed doors, bypassing farmers whose livelihoods are directly affected. 

This approach has often led to dismal outcomes. In Sudan Gulf-backed farmland projects have collided with political instability, leaving swathes of land idle while communities wait in limbo.

More than a decade ago, a proposed Qatari lease of 100,000 hectares in Kenya sparked uproar for appearing to trade national farmland for infrastructure promises.

These controversies have given “food security” investments the taint of neo-colonialism, whereby Gulf capital is supposed to secure bread for Doha or Riyadh but leaves African households hungrier. 

I have visited projects in Kenya where local communities have reported greater food insecurity and the effects of environmental pollution from pesticide use on leased farmland. 

Without foreign capital, many African governments cannot afford to modernise agriculture  

Proponents counter that the alternative is stagnation: without foreign capital, many African governments cannot afford the infrastructure or technology to modernise agriculture. 

They argue that if deals are structured with safeguards – ensuring jobs, fair compensation and some domestic food allocation – they can deliver benefits on both sides. 

Zombie deals

Yet the record so far is mixed. Too many projects stall or fall short, becoming “zombie deals” which leave land locked up but underused. 

One of those deals was a land project in South Sudan half the size of Lebanon leased in 2009 by an Emirati entity for the paltry sum of $800,000. 

In the absence of strong land tenure policies, nomadic pastoralists moved with Kalashnikov rifles to protect their livestock making such projects risky and economically challenging. 

There are also environmental concerns. Qatar intended to divert 1 billion cubic metres of Nile water for one of its projects in Sudan, which spooked Egypt – a nation already nervous over its future share of the Nile water. 

For Gulf states, the urgency is obvious. After the 2007-08 and 2010-11 global food price crises, dependence on volatile global markets became a national security concern, prompting the governments to establish national food security programmes and initiatives.

Securing land abroad is viewed as a hedge against droughts, wars and trade restrictions. But for Africa, the question is whether this hedge for the Gulf comes at the expense of food sovereignty.

The experience of both Latin American and the Eastern European countries has shown that agricultural productivity can be decisively increased once policies aimed at market economies are introduced.  

African partner countries need to strengthen their land tenure policies to ensure favourable market conditions for an emerging industry with strong market fundamentals. 

Transparency, community participation, policy reform and enforceable environmental standards will determine whether the new $100 billion wave of Gulf investment is remembered as fair, extractive or simply as another zombie deal.