Abdul Mohammed, Former Senior UN Official and Chief of Staff of AU High-level Panel on Sudan

Multilateralism has never been an inspiring word. It is procedural, abstract, and emotionally thin. No one rallies under its banner, and no leader wins popularity by defending it. Yet for Africa, multilateralism has never been a luxury of orderly times or a matter of institutional aesthetics. It has been, repeatedly and painfully, a strategy of survival. When collective systems fracture or lose authority, Africa is not a marginal casualty of global disorder; it is among the first and hardest hit.

As the continent enters 2026, this reality confronts Africa’s institutions with unusual force. Across the continent—from Sudan and the eastern Democratic Republic of Congo to the Sahel—war is no longer episodic or exceptional. It is increasingly systemic, durable, and profitable. Violence has become a bargaining instrument, fragmentation a political asset, and mediation itself a competitive marketplace. In such conditions, the question confronting Africa’s leaders is no longer abstract: can the continent’s multilateral institutions still exercise authority, or have they become spectators to conflicts they were created to prevent?

This question bears directly on the current leadership of the African Union. There will be no new leadership arriving in 2026. The current leadership, elected in 2025, now confronts its first true test. The coming year will not be a grace period; it will be a reckoning. Africa’s conflicts are deepening, external pressures are intensifying, and the margin for procedural caution is narrowing. The credibility of the present leadership will be judged not by intentions or rhetoric, but by political judgment and action.

Africa enters 2026 institutionally fatigued, politically fragmented, and increasingly exposed to assertive external actors pursuing bilateral advantage at the expense of collective order. The global environment has become harsher: geopolitical rivalry has replaced cooperation, transactional diplomacy has displaced norms, and multilateral restraint is no longer assumed. In this context, the African Union cannot afford leadership that confuses restraint with responsibility or equates neutrality with wisdom.

The challenge before the current leadership is therefore stark. It is not a question of managing institutions, refining processes, or preserving consensus for its own sake. It is a question of whether those at the helm are prepared to exercise authority, take political risks, and defend continental principles when doing so is uncomfortable. Multilateralism, in dark times, is not about convening meetings; it is about drawing lines.

The year 2026 will thus be decisive. If the African Union continues to drift—speaking in careful language while conflicts harden and authority leaks outward—it will confirm a dangerous perception: that Africa’s premier multilateral institution is no longer capable of shaping outcomes. If, however, the current leadership rises to the moment, reasserts political purpose, and treats mediation as an exercise in consequence rather than ceremony, the African Union may yet recover its relevance. The test is immediate, and it cannot be deferred.

On paper, the African Union should be a formidable mediation actor. It possesses peace and security institutions, mediation capacities, and panels of eminent persons. Yet in practice, it has struggled to shape outcomes in the continent’s most consequential conflicts. The problem is not absence of tools, but erosion of authority. Mediation succeeds when norms are backed by leverage and when institutions are willing to impose political costs.

The Union’s recent record in Sudan, the Democratic Republic of Congo, and the Sahel underscores this pattern. In Sudan, early warning and legal authority existed, yet hesitation prevailed as war escalated. In eastern Congo, fragmented initiatives and militarized responses crowded out political solutions. In the Sahel, inconsistent enforcement of norms and reactive diplomacy allowed coups and counter-coups to consolidate. In each case, the vacuum created by African caution was filled by external actors pursuing their own interests.

Looking ahead, Africa’s conflicts increasingly resemble political marketplaces. Loyalty is purchased, fragmentation rewarded, and violence normalized as a negotiating tool. In such environments, moral persuasion alone is insufficient. Norms without leverage are priced out, and multilateralism that avoids imposing costs becomes performative.

The African Union’s comparative advantage is not financial or military. It lies in legitimacy: the ability to confer recognition, set benchmarks, and insist that peace, rights, and governance are inseparable. Reclaiming this role requires a renewal of Pan-Africanism as an intellectual and moral tradition—one that insists on sovereignty as responsibility, not exemption.

If the African Union is to remain relevant in 2026, it must reassert convening authority, enforce coordination, benchmark mediation participation, and place civic legitimacy at the center of peace processes. Above all, leadership must rediscover courage. Unity without principle is not unity; it is abdication.

Africa’s multilateral institutions were never designed to deliver perfection. They were designed to prevent catastrophe. Whether the African Union can rise to this challenge in 2026 will determine not only its own credibility, but Africa’s capacity to navigate an unforgiving world.