Across the vast, red-dusted expanses of the Sahel, where conflicts often unfold beyond international scrutiny, Mali is confronting a harsh reality: severing ties with those who previously maintained the frontline against rampant instability carries significant repercussions.

The surge of attacks now plaguing the nation is neither coincidental nor predetermined. These escalating incidents are the foreseeable outcome of a political severance, proudly asserted as an act of national sovereignty. This proclaimed sovereignty, however, was frequently bolstered by an anti-French narrative, which served as a tool for internal political legitimization.

Bamako desired the French departure, and it was achieved.

The final French convoys departed from Gao, Tessalit, and Ménaka amidst public jeering, fueled by years of accusatory rhetoric. At the time, the critical operational realities seemed secondary. Little consideration was given to the fact that in 2013, when jihadist columns threatened to advance southward, it was French forces that decisively halted the imminent collapse of the Malian state.

French President Emmanuel Macron had previously stated with stark clarity that “Mali did not make the best decision by expelling the French army.” This straightforward, almost clinical assessment now resonates as a clear strategic truth. While acknowledging that Paris may have at times overemphasized military solutions without fully addressing necessary local political reforms, the president consistently maintained that without French intervention, Mali could have descended into complete disarray. He had unequivocally asserted, “Without France, Mali would no longer be a unified state.”

This fundamental truth now appears to be reasserting itself with brutal force on the ground.

The realities on the ground, however, are impervious to political slogans or posturing. With the French bases evacuated, a stark security vacuum immediately manifested. Groups aligned with Al-Qaeda and the Islamic State wasted no time in exploiting these newly opened vulnerabilities. Where Operation Barkhane once contained, monitored, engaged, and gathered intelligence, Malian authorities now struggle to maintain lasting control over their vast territory.

Beyond these recent developments, there is a crucial memory that must not be overlooked.

Fifty-eight French soldiers perished in the Sahel.

Fifty-eight individuals fell in a conflict that was neither abstract nor theoretical. Their lives were lost in places like Kidal, in the Adrar des Ifoghas, and In Delimane, on roads riddled with mines, during nighttime operations, under scorching temperatures, and against an elusive, mobile, and pervasive enemy.

These soldiers were not occupying forces. They were not colonial predators disguised by militant narratives. They were the dedicated instruments of a military commitment undertaken by France to prevent the establishment of a terrorist sanctuary at the very heart of the Sahel.

They paid the ultimate price.

Their sacrifice demands at least one imperative: that their memory not be diminished or distorted by ideological oversimplifications.

Indeed, France acknowledges its missteps. However, for years, it also bore the brunt of a colossal military effort, almost single-handedly striving to maintain an already fragile regional equilibrium. Mali chose to dismantle this established security framework in the name of declared independence, and it is now facing the direct consequences of that decision.

When President Macron asserted that Bamako had not made the “best decision,” he was not articulating post-colonial resentment or sentimental regret. He was simply observing a reality that is now brutally confirmed: in certain parts of the world, a proclaimed sovereignty alone is insufficient to repel determined jihadist columns.

For France, the Sahel became a theater of diplomatic attrition. Yet, for the French soldiers who served there, it remains something more profound: a field of honor.

And that honor is not subject to the shifting tides of public opinion.