Mali’s crisis: strategic stakes and shifting alliances in the Sahel

The Mali crisis, unfolding since 2012, has reshaped the geopolitical landscape of the Sahel. Once a cornerstone of Western counterterrorism strategies through Operation Serval (2013) and Barkhane (2014), Mali underwent a historic shift in 2022. By demanding the withdrawal of French troops, the Malian junta signaled a strategic pivot toward Russia, placing sovereignist rhetoric at the heart of its political narrative.

This ambition was formalized in September 2023 with the creation of the Alliance of Sahel States (AES), uniting Mali, Burkina Faso, and Niger to redefine regional balances outside Western influence. Yet this quest for absolute sovereignty now faces harsh military and diplomatic realities. Coordinated attacks by the JNIM and the FLA, coupled with internal instability and the repositioning of Russian paramilitary forces, are straining the foundations of this new alliance.

How does the current security collapse—and the negotiated withdrawal of Africa Corps from Kidal—reveal the fragility of the AES’s sovereignist project amid the complex interplay of Algerian and Russian influence?

Collapse of Malian command: from the April 25 offensive to the fall of Kidal

The crisis escalated with a series of ominous signals: the targeted assassination of a Malian soldier in Konna on April 20, followed by an attack on Tessit by the Islamic State in the Sahel on April 22. The porous defense lines exposed the fragility of the central government. The arrest of high-profile military figures like Generals Abass Demblélé and Kéba Sangaré underscored a climate of terror, where special forces prioritized regime preservation over national security. The withdrawal of French forces left a security void that endogenous solutions—despite Russian support—struggle to fill.

Russia’s Wagner Group, now rebranded as Africa Corps, has intensified violence against civilians under the guise of counterinsurgency, epitomized by the Mourrah operation. Yet these measures have failed to stabilize the territory, forcing the junta to confront the brutal reality of operational failure. Persistent insecurity is no longer just a military challenge—it has become a potent political liability for a population demanding tangible results amid worsening living conditions.

On April 25, an unprecedented offensive struck key locations simultaneously: Mopti, Konna, Sévaré, Bourem, Gao, Bamako’s airport, and the Kati garrison. A bomb attack destroyed the residence of the Defense Minister in Kati, killing Sadio Camara and gravely injuring Generals Modibo Koné and Oumar Diarra. President Assimi Goïta’s exfiltration marked the collapse of the politico-military command, revealing the vulnerability of the regime’s core.

That evening, the JNIM claimed responsibility for the attacks and, alongside the FLA, announced the capture of Kidal. By April 26, Africa Corps had negotiated a withdrawal corridor before abandoning the city, leaving behind equipment and munitions. On April 27, the presidency remained silent while the army cited a mere repositioning—a stark contrast to ground realities. Reports of disorderly troop movements, desertions, and communication breakdowns among command centers further highlighted the crisis.

Between April 28 and May 1, the situation deteriorated rapidly. Coordinated attacks paralyzed vital axes linking Gao, Ménaka, and Ansongo, isolating key garrisons in the east. The Malian security apparatus showed signs of rupture, with loyalist units retreating toward Ségou and Koulikoro under pressure from armed groups and internal disorganization. Factional clashes within the army fueled rumors of an impending coup, while Goïta’s prolonged absence fueled speculation about a power vacuum. By May 2, diplomatic initiatives in Algeria and Mauritania sought a negotiated political solution, but success is far from guaranteed amid an increasingly complex battlefield.

Yet the most pressing challenge remains the emerging tactical alliance between the FLA and JNIM.

FLA–JNIM alliance: historical trajectories, asymmetric warfare, and control of strategic corridors

The alliance between the Front for the Liberation of Azawad (FLA) and the Group for the Support of Islam and Muslims (JNIM) has become a defining turning point in the Malian crisis. This convergence stems from two distinct historical trajectories: the FLA’s roots in Tuareg rebellions of the 1990s and 2000s, and the JNIM’s evolution from the Salafist Group for Preaching and Combat (GSPC) into a unified jihadist front under Iyad Ag Ghali. Both groups now share a common goal: to oust the Malian junta and reshape the power dynamics of northern and central Mali.

This alliance reached its zenith during the coordinated attacks that led to Kidal’s fall and the rapid disorganization of loyalist forces in the north and center. The FLA brings territorial expertise—knowledge of desert trails, mobility, and tribal networks—while the JNIM excels in asymmetric warfare, deploying vehicle-borne IEDs, night infiltrations, and drone-enabled tactics to paralyze the army’s command structure.

Beyond military tactics, the conflict has become a struggle for control over resources and trade routes—both licit and illicit. By seizing the Kidal–Gao–Mopti triangle, the FLA and JNIM aim to secure the economic lifelines of war economies. Controlling these corridors enables them to finance operations through smuggling (gold, fuel) and illegal trade (drugs, migration networks), transforming territorial dominance into a vital financial lever. The same logic applies to the Bamako–Kayes–Bakel axis, where tolls are extracted daily from the 3,000 trucks supplying Mali via Dakar.

The locking down of Saharan corridors has saturated the army’s response capabilities, turning a mobile war into a systemic collapse. The rapid fall of Kidal, Gao, and Sévaré underscores the effectiveness of the FLA–JNIM partnership against a Malian command now headless. The loss of regime pillars and rumors of a Bamako coup confirm that the crisis is no longer merely security-related—it threatens the very existence of the Malian state.

Yet this political and military void plays into the hands of the Islamic State in the Sahel (EIS), which is expanding its influence amid the state’s collapse.

Islamic State in the Sahel (EIS): the primary beneficiary of Sahelian chaos

The Islamic State in the Sahel (EIS) has emerged as the most volatile and unpredictable actor in the region. Since 2023, it has consolidated its presence in the Ménaka–Ansongo corridor, exploiting the collapse of state structures and rivalries among armed groups to extend control over Mali–Niger border zones. Unlike the JNIM, which seeks to localize its influence, the EIS pursues a strategy of expansion rooted in terror. It eliminates perceived hostile communities and captures commercial routes. The collapse of Malian command has opened a strategic space the EIS could exploit—either by directly challenging the JNIM for jihadist leadership or by seizing new sanctuaries in a fragmented territory.

With the AES unable to unify its forces, the EIS stands as the primary potential beneficiary of Mali’s crisis. This dynamic is exacerbated by the precipitous withdrawal of Africa Corps from key zones, leaving a security vacuum neither the Malian army nor its regional allies can fill.

Africa Corps in Mali: the end of Russia’s exceptionalism

Since 2022, Russia has used Mali as a security laboratory and a strategic projection point into the Sahel, acting as a custom security broker. In exchange for mining concessions, logistical access, and political favors, Moscow provides weapons, instructors, mercenaries, and protection. Yet five years after Wagner’s deployment, the paramilitary presence—now rebranded as Africa Corps—has failed to deliver on its promises. Instead of restoring stability, violence has intensified, and rural areas remain beyond government control. This paradox underscores the limitations of a proxy security model disconnected from Mali’s territorial realities.

The reverses suffered in Kidal and Gao in late April 2026 revealed the structural failure of the junta–Africa Corps partnership. The negotiated withdrawal of Russian forces symbolized a major tactical rupture, transforming the strategic partner into a retreating actor. Even more telling was the JNIM’s direct communication with the Kremlin, proposing a non-aggression pact that deliberately ignored the Malian government. This move completed Bamako’s diplomatic isolation, confirming that the center of decision-making no longer resides with the junta.

Russia’s position is further weakened by Turkey’s emergence as an alternative security partner. Ankara has supplied Bamako with drones, guided munitions, armored vehicles, and surveillance systems—equipment that is faster to deliver, more flexible, and often cheaper. These deliveries have sparked internal rivalries within the junta: some officers lean toward Turkey, while others remain aligned with Moscow. This competition further erodes command cohesion, already shaken by the death of Defense Minister Sadio Camara, the injuries to General Modibo Koné, and Goïta’s prolonged absence. The use of Turkish private forces to protect the junta leader suggests a rejection of Russian contingents, whose influence appears increasingly uncertain.

Russia’s posture in the Sahel has undergone a radical shift: from an offensive sovereignist stance to a defensive retreat. The inability of Africa Corps to secure vital axes or maintain control of Kidal exposed the structural limits of Moscow’s security offering in the face of a multisectoral threat. Meanwhile, Turkey’s rising influence further diminishes Russia’s leverage in Mali, forcing Bamako to seek a return to regional diplomacy—with Algeria playing a pivotal role.

Algeria: the silent pivot of Sahelian realignment

Algeria has long occupied a central role in managing Mali’s crisis, brokering the Tamanrasset (1991) and Algiers (2006, 2015) agreements. For Algiers, northern Mali is a vital buffer zone for national security. Its strategy rests on two pillars: preventing foreign forces from establishing a presence near its borders and maintaining a delicate balance among local armed groups in the Sahara.

Algeria prefers a Mali that is neither fully collapsed nor entirely autonomous, aiming for a stability that keeps Bamako dependent on its mediation. It leverages historical ties with Tuareg communities while monitoring jihadist groups like the GSPC and AQMI—many of whose leaders emerged from Algeria’s 1990s insurgency. By keeping a watchful eye on these groups, Algeria ensures that Mali does not become a rear base for attacks on its northern frontier.

Yet Algeria’s diplomatic architecture has been shaken by two ruptures. First, the Malian junta violated the first pillar of its doctrine by inviting Africa Corps into the country. Second, Algeria’s rapprochement with Mauritania has accelerated, supported by Nouakchott’s political backing and regional funding. Meanwhile, Morocco’s growing influence in Mali—facilitating Atlantic access and strengthening economic partnerships—has intensified Algiers’ regional vigilance. For Algeria, Morocco’s presence on its southern border is interpreted as a strategic encirclement maneuver.

In the current crisis, Algeria emerges as the silent but decisive actor. It refused the presence of Russian mercenaries in Kidal and secured their withdrawal in line with its security doctrine. Thus, Algiers positions itself as the indispensable mediator—despite Bamako’s objections—for any future political or military realignment. Yet it must contend with the AES’s emergence, a bloc that, despite its anti-foreign rhetoric, struggles to translate its ambitions into real military capabilities.

AES: a political project tested by operational impotence

Founded in September 2023, the Alliance of Sahel States (AES)—comprising Mali, Burkina Faso, and Niger—seeks to break free from regional organizations, resist international pressure, and achieve security autonomy. The alliance’s goals are ambitious: from creating a joint counterterrorism force to establishing a common market and a logistics corridor to the Atlantic. To support this vision, the juntas have forged partnerships with new allies like Russia, Turkey, Iran, and the UAE. Yet these projects remain largely aspirational.

The AES’s operational impotence was starkly revealed during Kidal’s fall and the subsequent attacks. No joint force was mobilized, and no solidarity mechanism was activated. The alliance’s silence during these events highlighted the chasm between rhetoric and reality. Each member state is mired in deep crises: eroding border control, economic asphyxiation from sanctions, and institutional fragility exacerbated by purges. The rupture with ECOWAS further isolates the AES, leaving it without regional partners capable of compensating for its military weaknesses.

Thus, the AES appears less as a stabilizing military alliance and more as a political instrument for the incumbent regimes. This disconnect between ambition and reality opens a period of major uncertainty, demanding a reassessment of Sahelian dynamics to predict future regional realignments.

Sahelian dynamics: predictive analysis of regional realignment scenarios

A predictive geopolitical analysis reveals four potential trajectories, contingent on evolving power balances and actor interactions:

• Central scenario: Persistent tensions with continued attacks and economic decline, confining the AES to a political framework without military translation.
• Stabilization scenario: A mediated peace initiative led by Algeria could reduce JNIM and FLA offensives, easing the crisis.
• Rapid degradation scenario: A major terrorist attack on a strategic target could precipitate security and social collapse.
• Rupture scenario: An unforeseen event—such as an internal coup or social explosion—could abruptly topple the junta.

The Sahel at the mercy of the void: toward total regional realignment

Assimi Goïta’s hold on power now hinges on an exceptionally fragile conjuncture. The death of Sadio Camara and the sidelining of Modibo Koné have shattered the junta’s security backbone. Goïta’s prolonged absence fuels speculation and internal rivalries, opening the door to a potential overthrow. The army, weakened by purges and demoralization, is no longer a sovereign instrument but a fragmented body dependent on volatile external allies.

Since 2025, the JNIM’s blockade around Bamako has drained the capital’s resources, culminating in the April 25 attacks. These events exposed the vulnerability of the political center and accelerated social crisis, signaling the collapse of the state. The withdrawal of Africa Corps, the rise of the FLA–JNIM alliance, Turkey’s growing influence, and Algeria’s assertive diplomacy reveal a Mali that has become a battleground for external powers. European powers, distracted by other global fronts, have disengaged from the Sahel, leaving the field open to new actors.

In this realignment, the Malian people are the primary victims. They endure insecurity, diplomatic isolation, economic contraction, and a lack of political prospects. Their sovereignty is confiscated by military leaders, armed groups, or foreign powers, each pursuing their own agendas. The democratic project, already fragile since 2012, is receding further, making a return to popular sovereignty increasingly uncertain.

Burkina Faso now appears as the next vulnerable link. Its porous borders, the advance of armed groups, and weakening institutions are compounded by external dependence. The Malian crisis is no longer an isolated episode but the opening of a destabilization sequence whose effects will ripple far beyond the central Sahel.

This crisis also poses risks for Europe, particularly in terms of migration flows, illicit trafficking, and the emergence of armed groups capable of destabilizing Gulf of Guinea states. The Malian crisis thus heralds a profound realignment, where state collapse, the rise of armed actors, and competition among external powers redraw the map of an unstable Sahel—with repercussions that will extend far beyond the region.