“Beautiful English!” – How Donald Trump Praised the President of Liberia for His Native Language

It was meant to be a lunch at the White House celebrating Africa’s economic potential – and ended, as so often, in a moment of unintended comedy likely to go down in history. Donald Trump, host of a small, exclusive gathering of African heads of state, had handed the floor to Joseph Boakai, the president of Liberia. And no sooner had Boakai finished than Trump offered his verdict with the grandeur of an elementary school teacher after a first poetry recital: “Such good English. Where did you learn to speak so beautifully?” Boakai, who governs a country whose official language has been English since its founding, laughed – perhaps politely, perhaps puzzled. “In Liberia, sir,” he replied. But Trump didn’t let it go: “That’s very interesting. Beautiful English.” And then the jab at his own team: “I have people at this table who don’t speak nearly as well.” It was a scene that could only happen in Trump’s Washington – half compliment, half cluelessness, entirely revealing. That Liberia was founded in the 1820s by freed African American slaves, and to this day is governed, linguistically shaped, and constitutionally organized in English, seemed to escape Trump. Yet for him, it appeared to be a mystery how a Black man from Africa could speak such good English. In other words, it was a moment of colonial astonishment in the 21st century – live from the White House dining room.

The attending heads of state from Gabon, Guinea-Bissau, Senegal, Mauritania, and Liberia had been invited to discuss supply chains, private investment, and resource deals – or, in Trump’s view, to listen to him and admire him. And that’s exactly what happened. After the initial awkwardness passed, the meeting seamlessly transitioned into a tribute session. The Mauritanian president declared that he saw no reason why Trump shouldn’t receive the Nobel Peace Prize – after all, he was “working tirelessly for peace throughout the world, without distinction.” Other heads of state praised the recently signed peace agreement between Rwanda and the Democratic Republic of Congo – a deal Trump had also brought into the Oval Office. At that previous occasion, the U.S. president had told an African journalist she was “beautiful” and that he wished he had “more reporters like you,” a comment many still remembered. But Trump, accustomed to his own parallel universe, reveled in the praise: “I could do this all day,” he said, as the group took turns showering him with flattery.

Only the major economies of the continent – Nigeria, South Africa, Ethiopia – had not been invited. Instead, the selection favored countries whose presidents appeared considerably more grateful. Thus, what began as an economic lunch became a reflection of American foreign policy under Trump: selective, self-adoring – and always ready to turn ignorance into a virtue. In the end, the question remains: what carried more weight – the promised investments or the linguistic compliments? But as Trump himself would say: Beautiful!