The Other Archipelago of Decolonization
Introduction
On June 8, 2026, The Telegraph reveals that Donald Trump is considering purchasing the Chagos archipelago to guarantee American control over Diego Garcia. After Greenland and the Panama Canal, the Indian Ocean joins the list of territories the American president approaches as a transaction. Mauritius immediately rejects this hypothesis. London finds itself weakened. A matter that an agreement signed in 2025 seemed to have closed suddenly returns to the forefront. The proposal is nonetheless far from trivial. It constitutes neither an official decision nor a legally finalized project. But its appearance in public debate reveals a deeper evolution: when major military interests are at stake, international law enters into tension with the logic of power. The Chagos matter thus goes beyond the sole question of a possible buyout. It questions the capacity of decolonization law to prevail against the strategic imperatives of major powers. In this respect, it directly concerns Madagascar.
An Agreement That Seemed to Close the Matter
The origin of the dispute dates back to 1965. Three years before Mauritius's independence, the United Kingdom administratively detached the Chagos archipelago to create the British Indian Ocean Territory (BIOT). Between 1967 and 1973, nearly two thousand Chagossians were forcibly expelled to allow the installation of an American-British military base at Diego Garcia, which became operational in 1971. For more than half a century, Mauritius contested this detachment based on the principle of territorial integrity enshrined in international law. In 2019, the International Court of Justice ruled that the United Kingdom must end its administration of the archipelago. A few months later, the UN General Assembly confirms that the Chagos belong entirely to Mauritian territory. Under this diplomatic and legal pressure, London finally accepts opening negotiations. An agreement is signed in May 2025 and ratified in January 2026. Mauritius recovers sovereignty over the archipelago while granting the United Kingdom a 99-year lease on Diego Garcia, in exchange for an average annual rent of approximately 101 million pounds sterling. Washington then welcomes this compromise, which guarantees the continuity of American military operations. This balance survives only a few months.
What a Buyout Idea Really Reveals
Two developments will rapidly upset the situation. The first is political. Donald Trump's return to the White House is accompanied by a far more transactional vision of American strategic interests. Military infrastructure deemed essential must depend on no political uncertainty. The second is geopolitical. Escalating tensions with Iran gradually transform Diego Garcia into a potential target. In March 2026, Iranian missiles are fired toward the atoll. Even though they fail to reach their objective, they demonstrate that this base, previously considered relatively protected, can now be directly threatened. In this new context, Donald Trump publicly criticizes the agreement concluded between London and Port-Louis, believing that the United Kingdom must not "cede Diego Garcia." On April 11, 2026, London suspends the agreement's implementation, citing notably the absence of official Washington support. It is during this period of uncertainty that the hypothesis of a Chagos buyout emerges in the British press.
The interest of this proposal lies not so much in its feasibility as in what it reveals. The United States is not seeking to acquire an archipelago for its land value. It seeks to eliminate all legal ambiguity surrounding a military lock that has become indispensable to its strategy in the Indian Ocean. A lease, even concluded for 99 years, remains a contract between two sovereign states. It assumes a political relationship susceptible to evolution. An acquisition, by contrast, would aim to eliminate this dependency. The debate therefore does not primarily concern the possibility of a sale. It reveals a deeper dynamic: when national security is perceived as a priority, major powers tend to consider legal constraints as negotiable. The Chagos precedent thus shows that international law can establish legitimacy without guaranteeing its implementation when strategic interests become determining. It perhaps marks a broader evolution in international relations. After several decades during which globalization seemed to reduce the importance of borders, geography is once again becoming a central factor of power. Territories situated at the heart of major maritime routes regain a strategic value that far exceeds their area.