PICTURE a scenario in which Africa’s richest man, Alhaji Aliko Dangote, invested $250 million in 2023 to support the presidential campaign of APC candidate Bola Ahmed Tinubu. Let’s assume Dangote, being the shrewd businessman he is, found a legal way to avoid violating campaign finance limits that cap how much individuals can contribute to political campaigns.
Now imagine that this strategic support played a major role in Tinubu’s victory two years ago, helping him secure the presidency and giving the APC a majority in both chambers of the National Assembly. As a token of appreciation, President Tinubu appoints Dangote to lead a newly created government agency focused on cutting waste and improving public sector efficiency.
In this imagined scenario, Dangote’s new role comes with the tough task of ending long-standing subsidies on petrol and foreign exchange — two policies widely seen as obstacles to Nigeria’s economic growth since independence in 1960. Because these subsidies have become deeply embedded in public expectations over the past four decades, rolling them back sparks outrage and resistance.
Now take it a step further: suppose Dangote, despite his brilliance, begins behaving inappropriately—perhaps mocking civil servants who lost their jobs or appearing in Aso Rock with his toddler riding on his shoulders in a moment of eccentric public display. President Tinubu, noticing these missteps, decides to relieve him of his duties respectfully and even presents him with a symbolic key to the villa as a gesture of goodwill.
But soon after the House of Representatives passes four key tax reform bills—awaiting Senate approval—Dangote lashes out, branding the bills a “disgusting abomination.” Concerned that the new laws could undermine the business advantages his firm had been enjoying, he threatens to use his influence to ensure APC lawmakers are voted out in the next elections.
This outburst provokes President Tinubu, who publicly quips that Dangote might be suffering from a mental health issue. What should have remained a private policy disagreement between allies begins to spill into the public sphere, with the potential to spiral into a full-blown political crisis.
Dear readers, this imagined scenario is not about Nigeria, President Tinubu, or Aliko Dangote—the visionary industrialist behind the Dangote Refinery and Petrochemical complex that’s transforming Nigeria from a raw exporter of crude oil into a net exporter of refined petroleum products.
Rather, this story mirrors the real-life political drama currently unfolding in the United States between President Donald J. Trump — back in office as the 47th president — and Elon Musk, the world’s richest man and owner of Tesla, SpaceX, and other powerful tech ventures.
Their feud highlights the perils of blurring the lines between business and politics. It serves as a cautionary tale for democracies around the world about why these two powerful domains—each critical in its own right—must remain independent to preserve institutional integrity and public trust.
Simply put, the situation described above isn’t unfolding in a struggling third-world nation where democratic principles are still being grasped. Rather, it is playing out in the United States—the wealthiest, most powerful nation in the world, and widely regarded as the global standard-bearer for democracy.
For me, there are several critical takeaways from this evolving saga in America.
First, it reinforces the reality that democracy is still an evolving system of governance, even centuries after its roots in ancient Athens under Cleisthenes in 508 BCE.
Who would have imagined that campaign finance laws in the U.S.—particularly the caps on individual contributions to political candidates—could be so cleverly circumvented? Yet Elon Musk appears to have done just that, reportedly channelling around $250 million into Donald Trump’s 2024 campaign without violating existing laws.
Second, the unfolding events affirm the old adage: “What money cannot do, more money can.” Musk himself boasted that without his financial engineering—leveraging “Super PACs” to funnel as much as $1 million per voter in key swing states—Trump and the Republican Party may not have secured victories in the White House and both chambers of Congress. According to Musk, his financial intervention was instrumental in Trump’s success in the November 5, 2024 election. As he warned at the time, “In November, we fire all Republicans who betrayed Americans.”
This demonstrates that, just like in many fledgling democracies of the developing world, money — not ideology or principles — is often the decisive factor in American elections, with votes going to the highest bidder.
Third, the very public clash between Musk— head of Tesla and SpaceX— and President Trump has peeled back the curtain on the inner workings of the U.S. government. It exposes a long-held double standard: while the West criticises African nations for implementing public subsidies, it often does the same, albeit in more discreet and sophisticated forms. Through institutions like the World Bank and IMF, wealthy nations pressure developing countries to eliminate subsidies, despite quietly propping up their own industries using similar mechanisms.
This hypocrisy has been starkly revealed by the Trump-Musk fallout. The feud has exposed how Musk’s companies have been supported through generous government contracts and subsidies—an arrangement that mirrors the kind of state-enabled capitalism often criticizsed in the Global South.
Fourth, the idea that oligarchs are a uniquely Russian or African phenomenon has been shown to be misleading. Musk’s companies, Tesla and SpaceX, are now understood to have benefited significantly from U.S. government support. In Trump’s own words:
“The easiest way to save money in our Budget—Billions and Billions of Dollars—is to terminate Elon’s Governmental Subsidies and Contracts. I was always surprised that Biden didn’t do it!”
This outburst came in response to Musk labelling Trump’s “Big Beautiful Bill” as a “disgusting abomination.”
So, isn’t it both ironic and hypocritical that powerful Western nations instruct poorer countries to avoid government subsidies, while engaging in the same practices behind the scenes? By financially supporting domestic corporations that build wealth through state contracts, the West is not far removed from the same oligarchic systems it routinely condemns.
In conclusion, the Trump-Musk dispute is not merely a clash of egos. It is a revealing episode—one that lays bare the contradictions and vulnerabilities within the democratic and capitalist systems of even the world’s most advanced nation.
The purpose of this intervention is not to dwell on the sensational fallout between Donald Trump and Elon Musk—an alliance turned sour and now dominating headlines across both mainstream and social media, generating intense political controversy. That story has already been heavily dissected and discussed.
Rather, what concerns me is the unfortunate nature of this public spat, which has erupted barely 63 days into what was initially viewed as a promising political partnership between Trump, the President of the United States and figurehead of global democracy, and Elon Musk, the world’s richest man and a symbol of technological innovation.
Unsurprisingly, their clash has created a tense atmosphere, casting a dark cloud over the U.S. political landscape—an ironic turn for a nation that prides itself on being the model of democratic governance.
It is this deeper implication that compels me to approach the matter from a different angle—one that better illuminates the significance of this episode for those of us in less developed democracies. My goal is to help readers, especially Africans, understand that the global system does not always treat us fairly, despite appearances.
To illustrate this point, and drawing from my background in international public policy, I chose to analyse the Trump-Musk saga through an analogy—comparing it to a hypothetical but relatable scenario in Nigeria. After all, Nigeria’s political system borrows heavily from the U.S. model, and President Bola Tinubu’s current reform-driven leadership has begun reshaping the country’s economic landscape within just two years of his administration.
With that backdrop, it’s worth examining how the situation unfolded.
When sales of Musk’s Tesla electric vehicles began to decline both in the U.S. and globally — particularly across European markets — President Trump took on the role of an unofficial brand ambassador. In what appeared to be a quid pro quo gesture to repay Musk for his campaign support, Trump staged a symbolic event: turning the White House lawn into a Tesla showroom. On live television watched by billions worldwide, he personally bought a red Tesla and urged others to follow his example.
This dramatic endorsement was part of Trump’s attempt to shield Musk from the backlash he faced after heading the Department of Government Efficiency (DOGE)—an agency created to cut government costs. Musk’s involvement in laying off public sector workers had angered many Americans, some of whom responded by boycotting and even vandalising Tesla cars. This public outrage contributed significantly to Tesla’s financial decline.