“You Speak Such Good English”: Colonial Surprise and Other Party Tricks!

Recently, former President Donald Trump complimented Liberian President Joseph Boakai on his English — as if he'd just discovered linguistic fire. “You speak such good English,” he said, wide-eyed. The media shrugged, dinner parties moved on, and many chalked it up to harmless small talk. Sure. If you ignore the colonial undertones, the condescension, and the 200-year history that made English Liberia’s national language.

Then-Liberian Vice President Joseph Nyuma Boakai arrives at the White House for a group dinner during the US Africa Leaders Summit August 5, 2014 in Washington, DC.© Brendan Smialowski, AFP via Getty Images

Let’s back up. Liberia was founded in 1847 by freed Black Americans — yes, from America. Its constitution? Modeled after the U.S. Its capital? Named after President James Monroe. Its national language? Drumroll... English. So no, President Boakai’s fluency isn’t the surprise here. The surprise is that anyone was surprised.

Trump asks Liberian president where he learned English, his country's official language | Reuters

But this kind of “compliment” isn’t new. It’s the verbal equivalent of patting someone on the head for existing. And when leaders make remarks like this, it doesn't just reveal ignorance — it reenacts it. It's the same mindset that thinks Africa is a country, or that competence is a Western invention.

We hear this all the time:

• “You’re so articulate!” — Translation: I didn’t expect eloquence from you.

• “I love your accent!” — Translation: I’ve decided to exoticize you.

• “Wow, you went to Harvard?” — Translation: My internal biases are showing.

Intent doesn’t erase impact. Admiration laced with astonishment is still a bias wearing a bowtie.

Let’s be honest — we’ve seen this in job interviews, press conferences, even TED Talks. Surprise at someone’s language, intelligence, or credentials doesn’t highlight their achievement. It highlights the assumptions you brought to the room.

So no, Mr. Trump. President Boakai’s English wasn’t the revelation — your surprise was.

Because when a nation founded by freed Black Americans, governed in English, patterned after the U.S. constitution, walks into the room — and you're stunned they speak the language you exported — that’s not diplomacy.

That’s colonial residue talking.

And when that mindset wears a suit, smiles politely, and calls condescension “compliment,” it’s not harmless. It’s structural.

If language reveals power, then so do the pauses. The raised eyebrows. The “wow, you’re so articulate.”

History built Liberia in the shadow of American contradiction. And now, that shadow speaks back — fluently.

CellyBlue-I Do Know This!