By Mafa Kwanisai Mafa

When the President of the United States says out loud that his “favourite thing is to take the oil in Iran,” we are no longer dealing with speculation or propaganda. We are dealing with a confession.

In a recent interview reported by the Financial Times, Donald Trump stripped away the usual language of diplomacy and exposed what many across the Global South have long understood: this war was never about nuclear weapons. It was always about oil.

For weeks, the world has been told that Iran is a threat because of alleged nuclear ambitions. This narrative has been repeated so often that it has become accepted in some circles as fact.

But now, the same leadership that justified confrontation on security grounds openly speaks of seizing oil infrastructure, specifically Kharg Island, which handles the vast majority of Iran’s crude exports. That is not the language of non-proliferation. That is the language of economic conquest.

Kharg Island may be small in size, but it is massive in strategic importance. Located just off Iran’s coast, it is responsible for about 90% of the country’s oil exports, generating tens of billions of dollars annually. To speak casually about “taking” such a resource is to speak of crippling a nation’s economy and sovereignty.

Even Western analysts, including former Council on Foreign Relations president Richard Haass, have warned that such a move would be widely seen as an attempt to seize Iranian oil and would likely escalate the war rather than resolve it.

Markets reacted immediately to Trump’s remarks, with Brent crude prices jumping sharply. This tells us something important: the global economy understands what is at stake. Oil is not just a commodity; it is power. And control over oil has historically been one of the main drivers of war and intervention.

From an African perspective, this story is painfully familiar. We have seen this script before, not in Iran, but in our own lands. Colonial powers did not come to Africa because they were concerned about our governance or security.

They came for resources: gold in Zimbabwe, diamonds in Sierra Leone, oil in Nigeria, and rubber in the Congo. The justifications were always dressed in moral language, but the underlying motive was exploitation.

Today, the names and faces may have changed, but the pattern remains. Powerful nations identify strategic resources in weaker or independent states, then construct narratives to justify intervention.

Once intervention begins, it is framed as necessary, even noble. But eventually, as we are now seeing, the truth comes out.

Iran, for its part, has demonstrated restraint even under pressure. Reports indicate that it allowed oil tankers to pass through the Strait of Hormuz as a gesture of goodwill, despite facing open threats to its own resources.

This is not the behaviour of a reckless state seeking war. It is the behaviour of a nation trying to avoid escalation while defending its sovereignty.

The danger now is that the world may ignore this moment of clarity. When a leader openly discusses taking another country’s oil, there should be global outrage.

Instead, there is often silence or selective criticism, depending on political alignments. This double standard is something Africa knows all too well.

Zimbabwe’s own history offers important lessons. Our land reform programme was condemned by Western powers, framed as chaotic and unjust. Yet, at its core, it was about reclaiming land that had been taken during colonial rule.

The same powers that now speak of international law and sovereignty had no such concerns when African land and resources were being seized.

This is why many in Africa view the situation in Iran through a different lens. It is not simply a geopolitical conflict in the Middle East. It is part of a broader pattern of imperial behaviour, where control over resources is pursued at the expense of national sovereignty.

Supporting Iran in this context does not mean agreeing with every aspect of its governance or policy. It means recognising the principle at stake: that no nation has the right to take another nation’s resources by force. It means standing against a system where power determines what is considered legal or acceptable.

There is also a practical dimension to this. Instability in the Middle East affects global oil prices, which in turn impact African economies. As recent market reactions have shown, even the suggestion of escalation can drive up prices, placing additional strain on countries already dealing with economic challenges.

For nations like Zimbabwe, which rely on imported fuel, this is not an abstract issue. It is a direct economic burden.

More importantly, there is a moral dimension. Africa’s liberation struggles were built on the principle of self-determination. From Algeria to Mozambique, from Ghana to Zimbabwe, our people fought against foreign domination and resource exploitation.

To remain silent now, when another nation faces a similar threat, would be a betrayal of that history.

The words of Donald Trump have, perhaps unintentionally, done the world a service. They have removed the mask. They have shown, in plain language, what this conflict is really about.

The question now is whether the international community, and particularly the Global South, will respond with clarity and courage.

Africa must not be neutral in the face of resource imperialism. We know its consequences. We have lived its reality. Standing with Iran today is not just about solidarity with one nation.

It is about defending a principle that is essential for all nations: the right to control our own resources, free from external domination. History has taught us that silence in such moments only encourages further aggression. The time to speak is now.