In early November, a social media post by United States President Donald Trump set off alarm bells across Nigeria. The US “Department of War”, he said, was preparing to go into the West African country “guns-a-blazing” over what he claimed was the killing of Christians in Nigeria.

Nigeria’s government under President Bola Ahmed Tinubu swiftly hit back, rejecting the claims, saying that while the country faced a challenging security situation due to armed groups and banditry, it was untrue that Christians were specifically being targeted, as Muslim communities and traditional believers had also come under attack.

But the Trump administration was not appeased. It had placed Nigeria on its “Countries of Particular Concern” (CPC) watchlist for religious freedom, and soon made threats of sanctions, cuts to financial aid, and punitive measures against Abuja for “failing” to protect Christians.

As Nigerians worried about a potential bombing campaign against their nation, the Tinubu government — though still denying accusations of a “Christian genocide” — quietly pivoted. Instead of aggressive rhetoric, it said it would welcome US assistance in dealing with security challenges that have long proved a thorn in the side of successive Nigerian governments.

Weeks later, on the night of December 25, the US launched what Trump described as “powerful and deadly” strikes in northwest Nigeria but the US military’s Africa Command (AFRICOM) made clear the attacks were carried out “at the request of Nigerian authorities”.

That cooperation between the US and Nigeria only appears to have grown, culminating this week in 100 US military personnel arriving in the country to help train Nigerian soldiers in the fight against armed groups.

Nigeria’s Ministry of Defence said US forces will assist with “technical support” and “intelligence sharing”, and despite not playing a direct combat role, will help target and defeat “terrorist organisations”.

To many, the developments come as a surprise – as in a little over three months, Nigeria appears to have overturned Trump’s “Christian slaughter” claim to instead win US military support for Abuja’s own military goals against armed groups.

“There’s been a strong shift,” said Ryan Cummings, the director of analysis at Signal Risk, an Africa-focused risk management firm. The narrative has “transitioned completely from a slap on the wrist to one where there seems to be a holding of hands in tackling this issue together”.

Although a notable shift, it is not fully surprising to many analysts, who see Nigeria’s cooperation as a strategic move to de-escalate tensions.

“It is neither unexpected nor hypocritical,” said Cheta Nwanze, the CEO of Nigerian risk advisory SBM Intelligence, who noted that Nigeria’s longstanding security partnerships since 1999 have favoured Western military doctrines.

What has shifted, he said, is the “US posture”: Washington now feels more entitled to get involved in a country where it sees strategic interests.

Lobbyists and working groups

Kabir Adamu, the director of Beacon Security and Intelligence in Abuja, feels the Tinubu administration has been “successful in de-escalating the Trump threat and in establishing a joint working group between the two countries”. But the “challenge”, the risk analyst said, is that Abuja has not been transparent enough about the process.

“At what cost did [the government] do this?” he asked. “It has so far failed to be transparent in letting Nigerians know what agreement it entered with the US government that led to a de-escalation of the situation.”

In January, the US and Nigeria convened a joint working group to address Nigeria’s designation as a CPC and how the country can work to reduce violence against vulnerable groups. But outside of that, details of what transpired between the first Trump threats and the first US strikes are scant.

However, Cummings of Signal Risk points to one deal, in particular, that he believes helped turn the tide: on December 17, the Nigerian government, through a legal intermediary, hired the DCI Group, Washington, DC-based lobbyists, for a reported sum of $9m.

According to the terms of the contract published online, DCI would “assist the Nigerian government through Aster Legal in communicating its actions to protect Nigerian Christian communities and maintaining U.S support in countering West African jihadist groups and other destabilizing elements”.

In hiring DCI, Nigeria has decided to “fight fire with fire”, Cummings said, comparing Abuja’s approach with what South Africa has done in the face of similar false accusations by Trump’s government that a “white genocide” is taking place there.

In both Nigeria and South Africa, the claims were first spread by local minority lobby groups aided by Republicans and evangelicals in the US, Cummings said. These groups fed selectively framed or exaggerated accounts into the Trump administration.

Nigeria hired a lobby group “to basically persuade the Trump administration that what is happening in Nigeria and what has been told to the Trump administration by certain lobby groups was not an accurate reflection of the status quo,” Cummings said.

“And that seemingly has been pivotal in changing the stance of the US government towards Nigeria,” he said.

Trump’s Africa positions are strongly shaped by a conservative evangelical base in the US, Cummings added, displaying concern for Christians globally and sympathy for white minorities portrayed as supposed victims of Black governments.

In the sense of playing to his core constituency, Trump’s concerns for these groups are genuine, Cummings said, but in other ways, they are instrumental: Trump uses issues like “Christian persecution” or “white genocide” to pressure other countries on broader foreign‑policy alignment.

‘Calculated trade-off’

Pressuring states for geopolitical gains plays out not just in Africa but outside the continent as well, both Nwanze and Adamu pointed out, citing the US’s recent abduction of Nicolas Maduro, the then-president of Venezuela, which, like Nigeria, holds significant oil reserves.

“Nigeria holds tens of billions of barrels of oil reserves and is Africa’s largest producer. The US National Security Strategy prioritises securing strategic resources through unilateral action”, so to some extent, the US’s recent moves regarding Nigeria are about “asserting control over global energy flows”, Nwanze said.

“The counterterrorism framing is genuine but convenient because it provides cover for interventions that also serve resource security objectives,” he explained.

Also citing the example of Venezuela, Adamu said that witnessing the US’s abduction of Maduro also likely “made the Nigerian government more disposed to US cooperation”.

Adamu described Nigeria’s decision to allow the US to intervene as “a calculated trade-off” – one that provides security benefits through US troops and intelligence sharing; and stronger diplomatic ties with a powerful country — while also maintaining Nigeria-led oversight of US operations.

From Tinubu’s side, cooperation with the US is an “operational necessity”, Nwanze said. “Nigeria’s security forces are overstretched, and US intelligence and air power offer tactical advantages against militant groups.”

However, Cummings cautioned that while US support may improve Nigeria’s tactical counterterrorism capacity, it “treats the symptoms” and not the socioeconomic conditions at the root of the violence.

“There hasn’t been enough focus on how America can actually assist the Nigerian government in addressing the causes of these insurgencies, which very much lies in basic economics – creating employment opportunities, ensuring governance and access to public services in these areas are good, and ensuring that you as a country or as a government can make a better deal for local communities than the jihadists can,” he said.

Risk of escalation by armed groups

In fact, a US military presence in Nigeria may actually empower the armed groups, the analysts noted.

“There is a real risk of escalation,” Nwanze said, noting that recent security data compiled by his firm has shown “an uptick in attacks” since the US’s CPC designation.

He said armed groups like Islamic State Sahel Province (ISSP) and the al-Qaeda-linked Jama’at Nusrat al-Islam wal-Muslimin (JNIM) “have consistently exploited narratives of foreign intervention to recruit and radicalise”.

“The December strikes [on Nigeria by the US] provide propaganda material, allowing them to frame local grievances as part of a global war against Western forces,” he added.

“There is also the risk that militant groups will rebrand themselves as resisting foreign occupation, gaining propaganda advantages that outweigh tactical losses.”

Adamu said a US presence could motivate armed groups to intensify attacks, especially symbolically. But more than that, “due to the controversy and difference in support between Nigerians for the US presence, it can lead to a further polarisation of Nigeria along religious and ethnic divides”.

There are “domestic perception risks” for Abuja, he said, noting that previous Nigerian governments had faced public criticism when allowing US presence in Nigeria, and many now feel Tinubu is “handing the country over to US imperialism”.

The domestic “optics” are a concern, Nwanze agreed. “The perception of compromised sovereignty feeds nationalist resentment and deepens distrust in government,” he said.

For Cummings, Nigeria was in a tough spot in the face of US aggression, and “on balance, it was a smarter decision by the Tinubu government [to have] greater alignment with the United States”.

The analyst argues that Nigeria is historically more pro‑West, with economic, political, social and diaspora ties to the US. He says in the absence of alternative partners – like BRICS or other South-South alliances – Abuja’s cooperation and seeming alignment with the Trump administration was the best way to de-escalate this crisis.

But other analysts like Nwanze are concerned that by choosing to concede to Trump the right to violate Nigerian sovereignty — even with Nigerian oversight — the Tinubu government had left the country exposed to further crises.

“Adding a US military footprint, however limited, risks deepening instability by broadening the conflict’s ideological scope,” he warned. “The [armed] groups were already motivated; now they have a more compelling story to tell.”