In northern Togo, a quiet but fierce strategic rivalry is taking shape. Security sources indicate that over 300 members of Russia’s African Corps the structure Moscow established after Wagner’s rebranding are present or operational in the country. Meanwhile, Turkey is reportedly expanding its security footprint, notably through entities linked to the private military firm SADAT.

If these reports are fully confirmed, they signal a major shift in Togo’s security doctrine: a state no longer content with ad-hoc military partnerships, but gradually becoming an arena for foreign power competition.

Moscow and Ankara can naturally frame their presence as contributing to counter-terrorism and stabilising the north. But behind the security rhetoric lies another battle: influence. Access to decision-makers, contracts, intelligence, military cooperation, equipment, training, and strategic positioning are all at stake in a region where foreign powers seek to consolidate their footholds.

The issue is not just who protects Togo, but who gains influence in Togo, at what cost, and with what guarantees for citizens.

A national army relegated to second fiddle?

This proliferation of foreign actors raises a central question: what real role remains for the Togolese Armed Forces?

Togo possesses a structured national army, experienced officers, and troops trained in various foreign military institutions. The growing reliance on external security partners cannot automatically be justified by an incapacity of national forces.

Instead, one must scrutinise the political choices underpinning this strategy.

When a state entrusts an ever-growing share of its security concerns to foreign actors, it risks creating a dependency that extends well beyond the military realm. The supplier of equipment can become indispensable. The provider of intelligence can gain privileged access to decision-making structures. The trainer of units can gradually shape operational doctrines.

Ultimately, sovereignty is no longer measured merely by the number of soldiers a country has, but by its capacity to decide its own defence policy.

This is precisely where the Togolese debate becomes troubling.

The question is not whether Togo should cooperate with Russia, Turkey, France, or other partners. A sovereign state can diversify partnerships when they serve its national interest. The real issue is transparency, democratic oversight, and the balance among these partnerships.

What contracts are signed? How long do they last? What do they cost taxpayers? What powers are granted to foreign personnel? Under what chain of command do they operate? Which jurisdiction applies in case of incidents? Who controls their operations?

These questions grow even more critical when private military companies or foreign structures operate in areas where civilians are directly exposed.

The risk of ever-increasing security outsourcing

Outsourcing security carries another danger: it can gradually weaken the national institutions it purports to strengthen.

A foreign power can quickly supply men, material, or special capabilities. But it cannot sustainably replace a national defence strategy.

If investments in Togo’s army, national intelligence, officer training, border surveillance, and development of vulnerable zones do not follow, reliance on external partners risks becoming structural.

Togo could then find itself in a vicious cycle: the more it depends on foreign capabilities, the harder it becomes to build its own; the weaker its national capabilities, the more it must depend on outsiders.

This situation would be paradoxical for a country that claims to defend its sovereignty.

JNIM as justification: a threat that must be measured

The terrorist threat in northern Togo is real and must not be minimised. Armed groups active in the Sahel have shown their ability to exploit porous borders, fragile rural areas, and economic frustrations.

But counter-terrorism must not become a magic word used to justify any security policy.

This argument deserves scrutiny, especially since the presence of the Group for the Support of Islam and Muslims (JNIM) on Togolese soil must be distinguished from its influence or regional capabilities. A cross-border threat does not necessarily mean that a permanent foreign military presence is the only viable response.

A serious security policy should combine intelligence, border surveillance, regional cooperation, professionalisation of national forces, economic development of marginalised areas, and protection of civilians.

For a border secured by weapons but surrounded by poverty, unemployment, and administrative neglect remains vulnerable.

The question power can no longer avoid: what does this strategy cost?

One blind spot in the debate is financial.

Foreign military partnerships come at a price. Salaries, equipment, logistics, infrastructure, security contracts, maintenance, transport, and technical assistance can amount to considerable sums.

Yet, when such expenditures fall under national security, they are often shrouded in particular opacity.

This is precisely why parliamentary and citizen oversight becomes essential.

Togolese citizens have the right to know how public resources are used. They also have the right to ask whether every security expenditure genuinely translates into improved daily safety.

For a sophisticated military apparatus cannot be deemed a success if populations still lack access to healthcare, clean water, education, infrastructure, and economic opportunities.

While powers negotiate, Togolese wait

Here, the contrast becomes most striking.

While the government seeks to consolidate ties with various foreign powers, the everyday concerns of Togolese remain far more mundane: purchasing power, employment, costs of essential goods, access to healthcare, quality of education, housing, clean water, electricity, and prospects for youth.

The social question does not disappear simply because a security threat exists.

On the contrary, experience in many countries shows that poverty, territorial marginalisation, and weak public services can create fertile ground for instability.

Investing in northern populations is not merely social policy; it is also security policy.

An unemployed youth in an area where the state is barely present represents a far greater strategic vulnerability than a simple budget line.

Democratic debate stifled by security logic

Alongside this security question lies another concern: the country’s political trajectory.

For years, criticism of Togo’s democratic space, restrictions on mobilisations, and tensions over institutional reforms have fed a sense of a political system growing increasingly closed.

The constitutional change and new institutional architecture have sparked intense debate over the concentration of power and the real role of popular suffrage in the functioning of institutions.

In this context, the growing prominence of the security apparatus warrants particular vigilance.

A democracy cannot be durably governed by security logic alone. When any dissent risks being equated with a threat to stability, power eventually conflates political opposition with security danger.

It is precisely this slippage that must be avoided.

A strong army to defend the country, not a system

The role of a national army is fundamental: to defend territorial integrity, protect citizens, and preserve national sovereignty.

It should not become the preferred instrument for preserving a political system.

The difference is fundamental.

An army that protects the state protects the institutions of the Republic. A force used primarily to protect political power protects a regime.

The danger for Togo would be if the two functions eventually merge.

The arrival of foreign actors in the security apparatus does not resolve this issue. It may even complicate it if the priority becomes protecting the regime rather than building a national defence architecture subject to oversight mechanisms.

Togo must not become a playground for powers

Togo holds a strategic geographic position in the Gulf of Guinea and serves as a gateway to West Africa. This position naturally explains the interest shown by various powers.

But the strategic interests of other states must not become the compass for Togolese national policy.

The country must be able to cooperate with multiple partners without becoming dependent on any single one.

It must be able to purchase equipment without surrendering decision-making autonomy. It must be able to receive foreign training without marginalising its own officers. It must be able to fight terrorism without turning security into a permanent justification for opacity.

Above all, it must be able to answer to its foreign partners while answering first to its citizens.

The urgency is also political, social, and economic

The real threat to Togo is not limited to the possible advance of armed groups.

It also lies in the risk of building a state where the security apparatus strengthens faster than democratic institutions, where military spending escapes public debate, and where foreign partnerships overshadow national capacities.

What use is costly military cooperation if citizens do not feel safer?

What use is active diplomacy with multiple powers if everyday concerns remain unanswered?

What use is political stability if it is achieved at the price of a lasting shrinking of democratic space?

Togolese authorities face a strategic choice.

They can continue to multiply security partnerships, play on rivalries between powers, and gradually expand the security apparatus.

Or they can invest more in genuine national sovereignty: a professional and autonomous army, democratically controlled institutions, transparent contracts, credible justice, and, above all, economic development capable of reducing the vulnerabilities that fuel instability.

The problem is not that Russia is present, that Turkey takes an interest in Togo, or that other Western partners continue to cooperate with Lomé.

The problem begins when foreign and security policy becomes an end in itself, while the urgent needs of the people become a secondary variable.

By prioritising geopolitical balances, the government risks losing sight of the essential: a country’s sovereignty is measured not by the number of foreign powers vying for its territory, but by the ability of its institutions to serve its citizens.

And if Togo gradually becomes a field of competition between Moscow, Ankara, and other capitals, the question Togolese citizens are entitled to ask is simple: who truly protects the country, and who truly protects the regime?