Since 2012, Mali has been grappling with a deepening crisis that has reshaped the Sahel’s geopolitical landscape. The gradual erosion of central state authority has paved the way for territorial fragmentation, where armed groups and foreign powers now vie for dominance. Once a key player in Western counterterrorism strategies—through operations like Serval (2013) and Barkhane (2014)—Mali underwent a historic shift in 2022 by demanding the withdrawal of French troops. This move marked a decisive pivot toward Russia, with the junta elevating sovereignist rhetoric to the forefront of its political narrative.
The ambition crystallized in September 2023 with the formation of the Alliance of Sahel States (AES), alongside Burkina Faso and Niger. Together, these nations sought to redefine regional power dynamics outside Western influence. Yet, this quest for absolute sovereignty now faces harsh military and diplomatic realities. Coordinated attacks by the Group for the Support of Islam and Muslims (JNIM) and the Azawad Liberation Front (FLA), compounded by internal instability and shifting Russian paramilitary strategies, threaten to undermine the alliance’s foundations.
What do the current security collapse and the negotiated retreat of Africa Corps from Kidal reveal about the AES’s sovereignist project—and its vulnerability to the complex tug-of-war between Algeria and Russia?
From April 25 offensive to Kidal’s fall: the collapse of Mali’s command
The sequence began with a series of warning signs: the targeted killing of a Malian soldier in Konna on April 20, followed by an Islamic State in the Sahel attack in Tessit on April 22. The porous defenses exposed the fragility of the Malian state’s grip. The arrests of high-profile military figures—Generals Abass Demblélé and Kéba Sangaré—revealed a climate of fear, where special forces were deployed less to combat threats than to preserve the regime. The withdrawal of French troops left a security void that endogenous solutions, despite Russian support, struggle to fill. Wagner’s arrival, meanwhile, has intensified violence against civilians under the guise of counterinsurgency, exemplified by the Mourrah campaign. As territorial control slips away, the junta’s sovereignist claims clash with the brutal reality of operational failure.
The persistent insecurity is no longer just a military challenge—it has become a political liability. On April 25, an unprecedented offensive struck multiple key locations: Mopti, Konna, Sévaré, Bourem, Gao, Bamako’s airport, and the Kati garrison. At Kati, a vehicle bomb destroyed the Defense Minister’s residence, killing Sadio Camara and critically injuring Generals Modibo Koné and Oumar Diarra. The exfiltration of President Assimi Goïta exposed the vulnerability of the political-military command, laying bare the core’s fragility.
That evening, JNIM claimed responsibility in an official statement and, alongside 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—a humiliating retreat that cost Moscow a strategic and symbolic foothold. On April 27, the presidency remained silent while the army downplayed the situation as a mere redeployment, a stark disconnect from ground realities. Reports from local and regional sources described chaotic troop movements, desertions, and severed communications between headquarters.
Between April 28 and May 1, the situation deteriorated rapidly. Coordinated attacks paralyzed vital supply routes linking Gao, Ménaka, and Ansongo, effectively isolating the eastern garrisons. The Malian security apparatus showed signs of collapse, with loyalist units retreating toward Ségou and Koulikoro under dual pressure: relentless armed-group assaults and internal command disarray. 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, high tensions prompted diplomatic outreach from Algeria and Mauritania to broker a political settlement. Yet, these efforts face a daunting obstacle: the tactical alliance between FLA and JNIM.
FLA–JNIM alliance: historical trajectories, asymmetric warfare, and control of strategic corridors
The partnership between the Azawad Liberation Front (FLA) and the Group for the Support of Islam and Muslims (JNIM) has emerged as one of the most decisive turning points in Mali’s crisis. Rooted in distinct historical trajectories, these groups now share a common goal: toppling the Malian junta and reshaping power dynamics in the North and Center. Yet their alliance is ultimately about regaining control over the strategic spaces that underpin the Sahel’s criminal economies.
This convergence culminated in the coordinated assaults that led to Kidal’s fall and the accelerating disintegration of loyalist forces in the North and Center.
The FLA traces its origins to the Tuareg rebellions of the 1990s, 2006, and 2012, driven by long-ignored identity and territorial demands. The Tamanrasset Accords (1991) and Algiers Agreements (2006, 2015) attempted to address these grievances, but incomplete implementation fueled lasting marginalization. Post-2015, internal divisions, tribal rivalries, and junta purges weakened Tuareg structures, paving the way for the FLA’s rise as the most recent and organized expression of their aspirations.
JNIM, born from the Salafist Group for Preaching and Combat (GSPC) and later Al-Qaeda in the Islamic Maghreb (AQIM), consolidated its Malian foothold in the 2000s. Following the 2017 merger of Ansar Dine, Al-Mourabitoune, and the Macina Katiba under Iyad Ag Ghali’s leadership, JNIM has pursued an ambiguous nationalization strategy: positioning itself as a local political interlocutor while maintaining extreme violence marked by grave human rights violations and decentralized power structures aligning with local entities.
This strategy enables JNIM to expand influence in rural areas of the Center and North by exploiting community tensions, corruption, and state inefficiency.
JNIM’s operational strength lies in its mastery of asymmetric warfare. The group employs hybrid tactics: vehicle-borne improvised explosive devices (VBIEDs) to breach defenses, rapid motorcycle assaults to exploit openings, nighttime infiltrations, and extensive use of improvised explosive devices (IEDs) to paralyze army movements. A campaign of targeted assassinations and systematic harassment of isolated garrisons erodes troop morale and fractures local command chains. Meanwhile, drone integration and anti-aircraft capabilities give them an edge in mobile combat, as seen in Tinzaouatène, though they struggle to hold fortified positions.
The FLA, for its part, brings decisive territorial expertise: intimate knowledge of desert tracks, extreme mobility, lightning strikes, tribal network exploitation, and the ability to hold symbolic zones like Kidal. Its intelligence service is highly effective. The April 26 negotiated retreat of Africa Corps confirmed Bamako’s loss of control over the North.
Beyond military aspects, the conflict is also a struggle for resources and trade routes—both legal and illicit. By securing the Kidal–Gao–Mopti triangle, JNIM and FLA aim to sanctuarize transit corridors critical to the war economy. Controlling these axes facilitates funding through smuggling rents (gold, fuel) and illegal trafficking (narcotics, migration networks), turning territorial dominance into a vital financial lever. This logic extends to the Bamako–Kayes–Bakel axis, where tolls are levied daily on the 3,000 trucks supplying Mali via the port of Dakar.
The blockade of Saharan corridors has saturated the army’s reaction capacity, transforming a mobile war into systemic collapse. The rapid fall of Kidal, Gao, and Sévaré underscores the complementary effectiveness of the FLA–JNIM alliance against a now headless Malian command. The regime’s pillars crumbling and coup rumors in Bamako 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 exploiting state collapse to extend its influence.
Islamic State in the Sahel: the primary beneficiary of Sahel chaos
The Islamic State in the Sahel (EIS) is today the most volatile and unpredictable actor in the region. Since 2023, it has consolidated its presence in the Ménaka–Ansongo corridor, capitalizing on state collapse and armed-group rivalries to expand control over Mali–Niger border zones. Unlike JNIM, which seeks to localize, EIS pursues a terror-based expansion strategy, eliminating perceived hostile communities and capturing trade routes. The Malian command’s collapse now opens a strategic space that EIS could exploit—either by directly challenging JNIM for jihadist leadership or seizing new sanctuaries in a fragmented territory.
With the AES unable to pool its forces, EIS appears as the primary potential beneficiary of Mali’s crisis. This dynamic is intensified by Africa Corps’ rapid withdrawal, leaving a security vacuum that neither the Malian army nor regional allies can fill.
Africa Corps in Mali: the end of the Russian exception
Since 2022, Russia has used Mali as a security laboratory and a strategic projection point into the Sahel. Operating as a custom security broker, Moscow supplies weapons, trainers, mercenaries, and protection in exchange for mining concessions, logistical access, and political favors. Its strategy is purely extractive: securing gold and lithium deposits takes precedence over Mali’s development.
Five years after Wagner’s initial deployment, Russia’s paramilitary presence has institutionalized under Africa Corps, a 1,000–1,200-strong contingent (trainers, drone specialists, protection units) reporting directly to the Russian Ministry of Defense via a tactical headquarters in Bamako. Yet despite this structured deployment across key centers like Mopti, Gao, and Kidal, the security outcome has been paradoxical. Far from stabilization, violence has intensified, rural control has eroded, and Russia’s proxy security model has failed to curb the threat. This exposes the limitations of a strategy disconnected from Mali’s territorial realities.
The reverses suffered in Kidal and Gao in late April 2026 mark a structural failure of the junta–Africa Corps partnership. The negotiated Russian retreat signals a major tactical rupture, transforming the strategic partner into a retreating force. Even more telling, JNIM’s direct outreach to the Kremlin—proposing a non-aggression pact that ignores the Malian government—seals Bamako’s diplomatic isolation and confirms that power no longer resides with the junta.
Russia’s position is further weakened by Turkey, which has emerged as an alternative security provider. Ankara now supplies Bamako with drones, precision munitions, armored vehicles, and surveillance systems—equipment that is faster to deliver, often cheaper, and more flexible. This appeal is fueling internal rivalries within the junta: some officers lean toward Turkish partnerships, while others remain aligned with Moscow. This competition further undermines command cohesion, already shaken by the death of Defense Minister Sadio Camara, the injuries to General Modibo Koné, and Goïta’s prolonged absence from public view. The use of Turkish private forces to protect the junta leader suggests a rejection of Russian contingents, whose influence now appears in doubt.
Russia’s posture in the Sahel has undergone a radical shift: from sovereignist offensive to defensive retreat. Africa Corps’ inability to secure vital axes or hold Kidal exposes the structural limits of Moscow’s security offering against a multisectoral threat. Meanwhile, Turkey’s growing clout weakens Russia’s leverage in Mali, leaving the Kremlin scrambling to redefine its approach.
This void in Mali’s command structure forces a return to regional diplomacy. Algeria, acting as a silent pivot, emerges as the key actor in reshaping Sahelian balance.
Algeria: the silent pivot of Sahelian recomposition
Since the 1990s, Algeria has played 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 near its borders and maintaining a delicate equilibrium among local armed groups in the Sahara.
Algeria seeks a Mali that is neither fully collapsed nor entirely autonomous—one that remains dependent on its mediation for stability. It leverages historical ties with Tuareg communities while monitoring jihadist groups linked to the former GSPC and AQIM. Many leaders of Sahelian terrorist groups emerged from Algeria’s 1990s insurgency. By keeping a channel open with these groups in Mali, Algiers ensures the Malian sanctuary does not become a rear base for attacks on its northern frontier.
Algeria’s Sahel strategy historically relied on the Tuareg lever, using Azawad movements as a permanent counterweight to Bamako. Yet this diplomatic architecture has collapsed under a double rupture. First, the Malian junta shattered Algeria’s first pillar—excluding foreign powers—by inviting massive Russian intervention. Second, rapprochement efforts with Mauritania accelerated under Algeria’s diplomatic stewardship, with Nouakchott’s political support and regional funding.
Meanwhile, Morocco’s growing influence in Mali has intensified Algeria’s regional vigilance. By facilitating AES access to the Atlantic and strengthening economic partnerships, Rabat expands its footprint in the Sahel. For Algiers, Morocco’s presence on its southern border is interpreted as a strategic encirclement maneuver.
In the current crisis, Algeria acts as the silent but decisive actor. It refused Russian mercenary presence in Kidal and secured Moscow’s withdrawal in line with its security doctrine. It positions itself as the indispensable mediator—though contested by Bamako—for any future political or military recomposition.
Despite this role, Algeria must contend with the AES’s emergence. While politically united against foreign influence, the alliance struggles to translate rhetoric into real military capacity.
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 assert sovereign autonomy, bypass regional organizations, and resist international pressure. The alliance touts ambitious goals: a joint counterterrorism force, a common market, and a logistics corridor to the Atlantic. To support this vision, the juntas have forged partnerships with Russia, Turkey, Iran, and the United Arab Emirates. Yet these projects remain largely aspirational.
The AES’s joint-force initiative—like other announcements—is largely declarative, lacking integrated command, shared doctrine, or deployable capabilities. Apart from drone use, which appears to be shared between Bamako and Ouagadougou, operational implementation remains murky, split between national forces and Turkish contractors. The alliance’s total inability to act during Kidal’s fall or the coordinated attacks illustrates the gap between political ambition and military reality. While Mali lost Kidal, Gao, and key axes in late April, no joint force was mobilized, and no solidarity mechanism activated. The AES’s operational silence during Kidal’s collapse underscored the chasm between rhetoric and ground truth.
The three member states are mired in deep crises. Security-wise, border control is eroding under armed-group proliferation. Economically, sanctions and investment droughts are suffocating growth. Institutionally, successive purges are destabilizing cohesion.
The rupture with ECOWAS isolates the AES further, leaving it without regional partners to offset its military weaknesses.
Thus, the AES functions less as a stabilizing alliance than as a political tool for the regimes in power—unable to deliver lasting security in the region.
This disconnect between AES ambitions and ground results opens a period of major uncertainty. Beyond current alliances, analyzing Sahelian dynamics is essential to anticipate scenarios of regional recomposition.
Sahel dynamics: predictive reading of regional recomposition scenarios
A predictive geopolitical analysis of the Sahel reveals weak signals and potential strategic ruptures that could redefine regional balance. Four future trajectories emerge, depending on evolving power relations and actor interactions:
- Central scenario: Prolonged tensions, continued attacks, and economic decline, leaving the AES as a political framework without concrete military translation.
- Relative stabilization: A possible Algerian-mediated peace initiative that reduces JNIM and FLA offensives.
- Rapid degradation: A major terrorist attack on a strategic target could precipitate systemic 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 recomposition?
President Assimi Goïta’s survival now hinges on a precarious conjuncture. His ability to restore credible command in a shattered state apparatus is in question. The death of Sadio Camara and the sidelining of Modibo Koné have broken the junta’s security backbone. Goïta’s prolonged absence fuels speculation and internal rivalries, opening the door to potential overthrow. The military, weakened by purges and demoralization, is no longer a sovereign instrument—it has become a fragmented body reliant on volatile external allies.
Since 2025, JNIM’s blockade around Bamako has drained the capital’s resources. The April 25 attack proved this vulnerability, exposing the collapse of both state control and sovereignist narrative. The retreat of Africa Corps, the rise of the FLA–JNIM alliance, Turkey’s growing influence, and Algeria’s assertive diplomacy reveal a Mali once again contested by external powers. European powers, diverted by other global fronts, have largely disengaged from the Sahel.
In this recomposition, the Malian people bear the brunt. They endure insecurity, diplomatic isolation, economic contraction, and political disenfranchisement. Sovereignty is hijacked by soldiers, armed groups, or foreign powers—each pursuing their own agenda. The democratic project, already fragile since 2012, recedes further. Popular sovereignty seems increasingly distant.
Burkina Faso appears next in line for vulnerability. Its porous borders, armed-group advances, and institutional weakening mirror Mali’s trajectory. The Malian crisis is no longer an isolated episode—it heralds a wave of destabilization whose impact will extend far beyond the Sahel.
This unfolding crisis demands urgent assessment of its potential spillover into Europe—particularly in migration flows, illicit trafficking, and the rise of armed groups capable of destabilizing Gulf of Guinea states.
The Malian crisis has set in motion a profound recomposition of the Sahel, where state collapse, armed actors’ ascent, and competing external powers redraw an unstable landscape with repercussions far beyond the region.