“The Myth Of Africans Selling Africans: How A Lie Became Global History”
FOR centuries, the transatlantic slave trade has been framed through a convenient distortion: “Africans sold Africans.” This oversimplified refrain has endured because it shifts responsibility, absolves European powers, and obstructs honest historical accountability. But archival evidence, court records, missionary correspondence, and early diplomatic letters reveal a very different story—one rooted in systemic manipulation, commercial engineering, and intentional rewriting of African history.
Precolonial African societies did not operate the racialized, hereditary slavery that Europe institutionalized. Social captivity in many kingdoms meant temporary servitude, paths to reintegration, or restorative justice, not generational bondage. None of these systems resembled the industrialized human trafficking machine Europe built—complete with slave ships, maritime insurance, corporate trading monopolies, plantation economies, slave codes, and the legal transformation of Africans into “property.” That global architecture was European from design to profit.
The claim that Africans “sold their own” survives because it protects this architecture from scrutiny. European chroniclers, merchants, and later colonial administrators pushed a narrative that diluted their role by implying shared guilt. If Africans were equally culpable, then no party bears responsibility alone, and moral reparations become unnecessary.
What these narratives omit is the extensive African resistance. Archival records document rulers like Queen Nzinga, King Agaja, and King Afonso I resisting European incursions, banning slave exports, or complaining directly to European crowns about illegal kidnappings. Entire communities fled to hinterlands or fortified settlements to avoid European raids. These histories rarely appear in mainstream textbooks because they undermine the myth of African collaboration.
Even more obscured is the scale of direct European kidnapping. Historians agree that millions were seized through coastal raids, surprise attacks, and wars fueled by European weapons. European traders deliberately destabilised regions—arming factions, inciting conflict, and creating dependency—to ensure a steady supply of captives. In many cases, so-called “African sellers” were simply acting under coercion, duress, or in environments already deformed by foreign interference.
The persistence of the “Africans sold Africans” slogan functions as a geopolitical shield. Accepting the full truth would expose Europe’s empire-building as a project of violence and exploitation, with lasting economic consequences the modern world has yet to address. The narrative survives because it is useful—not because it is accurate.
To reclaim African history, the distortion must be confronted head-on. Africa was not the architect of transatlantic slavery; it was the primary target. And a more honest global conversation can only begin when this distinction is acknowledged.
