- Kurt Lindqvist’s authority challenged by court setbacks and regional pushback
- Legal constraints expose limitations of Lindqvist-led pressure campaign
Kurt Lindqvist’s attempted intervention sparks backlash after court-approved election
As AFRINIC—the African Network Information Centre—tried to emerge from years of governance paralysis, another actor stepped in to “help.” The result? Even more chaos.
On June 2025, the Internet Corporation for Assigned Names and Numbers (ICANN) made a surprising move: it filed a court application in Mauritius to delay AFRINIC’s long-overdue elections. The local court dismissed ICANN’s request outright.
Despite the judicial green light, AFRINIC proceeded with the vote on 23 June. But two days later—after the election process was paused due to only disputed proxy vote challenges—ICANN’s CEO Kurtis Lindqvist published a sharply worded public letter. In it, he described the vote as marred by “shocking allegations” and warned AFRINIC that its legitimacy as a Regional Internet Registry (RIR) was at risk. A compliance review, it warned, was now on the table.
To many in the African internet community, it felt like an ambush. AFRINIC had finally held elections after years of dysfunction—under court oversight, no less—yet ICANN’s CEO was questioning their legitimacy. Worse still, it was doing so from afar, with little regard for local legal rulings.
ICANN was once regarded as a stabilizing force behind global Internet governance, but now it finds itself adding fuel to the fire. In the battle against the African Network Information Centre (AFRINIC) against Cloud Innovation Ltd, ICANN actively sided with it and now seems to be retreating – both verbally and in practice.
In recent months, Lindqvist has issued a high-profile statement condemning the legal actions of Cloud Innovation, claiming that it poses a threat to the stability of the Internet. These warnings are designed to depict this dispute as a battle between order and chaos. However, in Mauritius, the country where AFRINIC is legally registered, the court has painted a different picture.
A judge in Mauritius has resolutely rejected the previous actions of the AFRINIC board, frozen its assets, and appointed a court receiver to oversee governance reforms. These legal decisions have consistently upheld Cloud Innovation’s contractual rights and highlighted AFRINIC’s serious violation of its own charter.
As these judgments accumulated, Kurt Lindqvist’s stance began to change from exaggerated warnings to a more cautious tone. Observers of the Regional Internet Registry (RIR) system are now questioning whether ICANN has crossed the line by supporting a failed institution without fully considering legal procedures or neutrality.
Lindqvist’s election campaign – including dramatic public statements and efforts to pressure Mauritius institutions – has sparked controversy far beyond his expected goals.
Also Read: Cloud Innovation calls for AFRINIC wind-up
Also Read: Cloud Innovation calls for AFRINIC wind-up after ‘impossible’ election standards
Digital colonialism or due diligence? Kurt Lindqvist’s actions raise sovereignty concerns
Kurt Lindqvist’s actions have ignited a firestorm of criticism. Observers are asking whether this is about oversight—or interference. Some are calling it what it increasingly resembles: digital colonialism.
He appeared to bypass African legal institutions, seeking to impose his own will on a process that had already been judicially sanctioned. The fact that AFRINIC’s elections were court-approved—and supervised by local judges—didn’t stop ICANN from issuing threats of sanctions. From the ground, it looked less like stewardship and more like control.
This is about sovereignty, autonomy, and representation in global internet policymaking.
While Kurt Lindqvist and its defenders argue that the situation demanded scrutiny—citing unverified claims of proxy vote irregularities—critics say the organisation overstepped. Its legal motion was rejected. Its statements ignored the oversight of Mauritian courts. And worse, it failed to address the real victims of the process: small African internet service providers (ISPs) and community networks, many of whom rely on proxy voting because they cannot afford to attend meetings in person.
Their votes were discarded without explanation. There was no public investigation. No transparency. No proposal to restore the rights of remote members whose only form of participation was proxy voting. For many, ICANN’s letter was not a defence of fairness—it was another blow against inclusion.
What’s at stake
AFRINIC’s autonomy is now under pressure from all sides. Internally, it’s governed by a court-appointed receiver. Externally, it faces the looming shadow of ICANN’s compliance regime. At the same time, reports suggest Mauritius’ own ICT Ministry may have influenced the delay in publishing election results—blurring the line between state involvement and independent governance.
The election deadline has now been extended to 30 September, giving AFRINIC a brief window to get its house in order. But this cannot be just a procedural clean-up.
As experts have noted, AFRINIC must rebuild trust—especially with small and underrepresented members. That means fixing the proxy system, introducing identity checks to prevent abuse, and most importantly, showing that every member—no matter how small—has a voice that counts. And most of all, the African community must be allowed to speak for itself—free from top-down directives.
The bigger question
At its core, the ICANN–AFRINIC standoff is about more than one flawed election. It’s about who governs the internet—and on whose terms.
Oversight should be a safety net, not a noose. Kurt Lindqvist may be right to care about electoral integrity—but when it overrides courts, silences smaller players, and offers no remedy to disenfranchised members, it begins to look more like a gatekeeper than a guardian.
But if Kurt Lindqvist continues to impose from the outside—rather than support from the sidelines—it risks pushing Africa’s internet future into deeper dysfunction. The continent deserves more than legal skirmishes and foreign intervention. It deserves a seat at the table—and a system that listens when it speaks.
