Minerals at War: Cobalt, Lithium, and Gas

Episode Narrative

In the late 1990s, a new tempest brewed in the heart of Africa. The Second Congo War, often dubbed "Africa’s World War," erupted with astonishing ferocity, drawing in nine nations and over twenty armed groups into a deadly maelstrom. This war, which spanned from 1998 to 2003, was not merely a regional conflict but a harbinger of ongoing instability across the continent. Its roots can be traced to a competition over valuable resources — coltan, cobalt, and other minerals — in the eastern Democratic Republic of the Congo. As global demand for these minerals soared, so did the violence. An estimated three to five million lives were lost, making this conflict one of the deadliest since World War II. Imagine, for a moment, a vast land rich in resources, yet plagued by greed and bloodshed.

Against this backdrop, the artisanal mining sector in eastern DRC became a dual-edged sword. It emerged as a major revenue source for various armed groups. Militias like the M23 and the FDLR seized control of mines, levied taxes on laborers, and smuggled minerals out to global markets. Suddenly, local violence became intricately linked with the supply chains of the world, implicating distant corporations and consumers in the ongoing suffering. The very devices that powered the modern age — smartphones, laptops, batteries — were built on the backs of miners struggling for their lives in the treacherous hills of eastern Congo.

In 2012, the world turned its attention once more to the region when the M23, a rebel group backed by Rwanda, briefly seized the key city of Goma. This city, located near some of Africa’s most mineral-rich zones, was more than a mere locality; it served as a strategic stronghold for both economic power and military might. Control of Goma was a gateway to vast resources, illustrating how deeply intertwined war and wealth had become in the Congo. When rebels march into a city that is a linchpin for resource control, it raises anxious questions: What are the stakes? Who truly pays the price?

Yet, as the dust seemed to settle after a brief defeat, the ghosts of rebellion were far from exorcised. The M23 resurgence in the subsequent years reignited conflict through to 2025, reinforcing the notion that the rivalry for control of these critical resources would not easily fade. Rwanda's intervention, often seen as both a relief and a wrench in the gears of sovereignty, sparked fierce debates about the legitimacy of foreign incursions into the DRC. Across borders, Uganda and Rwanda danced a tense tango, each seeking their own advantage as the already fragile peace in the region continued to unravel.

Meanwhile, the conflicts were not contained to the DRC. Moving southward, the Cabo Delgado insurgency in northern Mozambique escalated, driven by deep grievances over exclusion from the burgeoning gas wealth. Islamist militants, alongside private military contractors and regional forces, created a chaotic tapestry of violence that displaced over one million people by 2023. The promise of wealth turned into a harbinger of despair, as projects like TotalEnergies’ colossal $20 billion LNG endeavor faced disruption due to insurgent attacks. Resource extraction, intended to attract investment and economic prosperity, became a flashpoint for brutal violence, illustrating an uncomfortable truth: abundance can sometimes feel like a curse.

Zooming out, we see a larger narrative emerging across the continent. The Tigray War in Ethiopia, primarily political, further disrupted vital agricultural systems and trade routes. Satellite data revealed alarming cropland loss, illustrating that warfare’s indirect economic effects seep into every corner of life, destabilizing food security and the livelihoods of countless innocents. The African Union reported that over half of all African states had witnessed major conflicts since 1990, highlighting a chilling cycle of violence that often re-erupts after periods of tenuous peace.

As we move into 2022, the conflict landscape is ever-changing. In Sudan, a brutal power struggle between the Rapid Support Forces and the national army pushed nearly nine million people, half of them children, into displacement, disrupting essential services like immunization for millions. This wave of humanitarian crises painted a grim picture of how modern African conflicts ripple outward, creating layers of suffering for the most vulnerable populations.

In Zimbabwe, the global lithium rush has ignited local tensions, with community clashes over land rights and revenue sharing. As foreign investors flood in, echoing the historical patterns of extraction and exploitation, the specter of forced evictions re-emerges. This cycle is not merely an isolated incident; it is emblematic of larger systemic issues present throughout mineral-rich zones in Africa.

In 2024, the challenges of peacekeeping evolve. The African Union's missions in regions like Somalia and the Lake Chad Basin strive to maintain order, but they grapple with issues of funding, coordination, and legitimacy amid increasingly complex conflicts. The violence is moving not just through jungles and mountains but into urban centers, complicating traditional humanitarian and peacekeeping responses.

Turning to the past few decades, we recognize a pattern of armed conflict in sub-Saharan Africa that has continued to escalate. The Boko Haram insurgency in northeast Nigeria was particularly devastating, resulting in over 490,000 excess deaths. Death rates during the peak of the conflict soared far above national averages, emphasizing the profound human cost that resource-driven conflicts can inflict.

As we enter the 2020s, our understanding of these issues deepens into a critical reckoning. Armed conflict in Africa is increasingly urbanized, and the complexities of warfare now weave through both rural and city streets alike. In regions like northern Ethiopia, collapsing health systems reveal stark realities: only twenty-one percent of the sick could access care during active conflict, exposing the health crises that grow alongside violence. The mortality rate climbed alarmingly high at fifteen per one thousand — a sobering reminder of the intertwined fates of health and conflict.

Transnationality now symbolizes a defining hallmark of African wars. Many so-called “civil wars” have become theaters for foreign fighters, involving cross-border sanctuaries and international rivalries. It’s a truth born of the interconnectedness of our world: conflicts no longer remain localized. They spill over, affecting not just the nations directly involved but echoing through the corridors of global geopolitics.

In the aftermath of these swirling conflicts, we witness the struggles of organizations like the South African peacekeeping forces in the DRC, as their role faces new scrutiny amid budget cuts and combat deaths. Our era is marked by a relentless questioning of the sustainability of African-led interventions. As nations grapple with rising challenges, we must ask ourselves: Who will bear the burden in an age of austerity? What happens when the guardians of peace themselves become mired in unending conflict?

Moreover, as the world pivots toward green energy, competition for vital minerals — lithium, cobalt, rare earths — has intensified. African producers are caught in a web of foreign interests and local elites vying for power, while armed groups linger as constant threats. Supply chains draw a stark picture: every device that powers modern life may carry silent burdens born from the suffering of those laboring in the mines.

Lastly, there remains an unsettling truth that underscores this tumultuous journey: the concept of universal health coverage, a cornerstone of developmental aspirations, remains a distant mirage in many conflict-affected African states. Health system performance scores languish far below the continental average, revealing the long-term costs — as lives are lost, opportunities squandered, and futures dimmed in the relentless cycle of mineral-fueled wars.

As we reflect on these intertwined narratives of conflict and resource, we are left with critical questions. When the shimmering allure of wealth from cobalt, lithium, and gas fuels such devastation, whose responsibility is it to envision a different path? In this age of unprecedented connectivity and technological advancement, can the world find a way to divorce itself from the horrors of extraction and exploitation? The answers may lie in how we choose to engage with the stories from Africa's heart, echoing the lessons of history and the urgent call for a more equitable future.