Mali’s sovereignty crisis: how regional alliances and foreign powers shape the conflict

Since 2012, Mali has been grappling with a deepening multidimensional crisis that has reshaped the geopolitics of the Sahel. The gradual erosion of central state authority has given way to territorial fragmentation, where armed groups and foreign powers vie for influence. Once a cornerstone of 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 strategic pivot toward Russia, placing sovereignism at the heart of its political narrative.

The ambition to reclaim national sovereignty took institutional form in September 2023 with the creation of the Alliance of Sahel States (AES), alongside Burkina Faso and Niger. Together, these nations sought to redefine regional balances outside Western influence. However, this vision of complete sovereignty now faces harsh military and diplomatic realities. Coordinated attacks by the Support Group for Islam and Muslims (JNIM) and the Liberation Front of Azawad (FLA), coupled with internal instability at the state’s highest levels and the shifting presence of Russian paramilitary forces, threaten the very 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 a complex web of influence between Algeria and Russia?

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

The crisis unfolded 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 Malian government’s authority. The arrest of prominent military figures—Generals Abass Demblélé and Kéba Sangaré—highlighted a climate of terror where special forces prioritized preserving the ruling power over national security. The withdrawal of French forces left a security void that domestic solutions, despite Russian support, struggled to fill. Meanwhile, the arrival of Wagner’s forces led to a surge in violence against civilians under the guise of counterinsurgency, epitomized by the brutal Mourrah campaign. As these efforts failed to stabilize the territory, the junta’s sovereignist rhetoric clashed with the harsh reality of operational failure.

On April 25, an unprecedented offensive struck multiple strategic hubs simultaneously: Mopti, Konna, Sévaré, Bourem, Gao, Bamako’s airport, and the Kati garrison. The attack on Kati included a vehicle bomb that destroyed the residence of the Defense Minister, 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, revealing the heart of power’s fragility.

The same evening, the JNIM claimed responsibility for the attacks in an official statement and, alongside the FLA, announced the capture of Kidal. By April 26, Africa Corps forces had negotiated a withdrawal corridor before abandoning the city, leaving behind strategic materials and munitions. On April 27, the presidency remained silent while the army referred to a simple “redeployment,” a stark contrast to ground realities. Reports indicated chaotic troop movements, desertions, and communication breakdowns between headquarters.

Between April 28 and May 1, the situation deteriorated rapidly. A series of coordinated attacks paralyzed vital supply routes connecting Gao, Ménaka, and Ansongo, effectively isolating the region’s main garrisons. Under this encirclement maneuver, Mali’s security apparatus showed signs of collapse. Several loyalist units began retreating toward Ségou and Koulikoro, driven by relentless pressure from armed groups and growing internal disorganization within the command structure.

Meanwhile, clashes erupted between army factions, fueling rumors of an impending coup. The prolonged absence of Assimi Goïta from the public eye intensified speculation about a potential power vacuum. On May 2, rising tensions prompted diplomatic initiatives in Algeria and Mauritania to foster a negotiated political solution. However, these efforts face an increasingly complex reality on the ground: the emergence of a tactical alliance between the FLA and JNIM.

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

The alliance between the Liberation Front of Azawad (FLA) and the Support Group for Islam and Muslims (JNIM) has become one of the most decisive turning points in Mali’s crisis. Rooted in distinct historical trajectories, these groups now share a common goal: to oust the Malian junta and reshape power dynamics in the North and Central regions. Beyond ideology, their convergence centers on regaining control of strategic spaces that underpin the Sahel’s illicit economies.

The FLA traces its origins to Tuareg rebellions in the 1990s, 2006, and 2012, driven by long-neglected identity and territorial claims. Agreements in Tamanrasset (1991) and Algiers (2006, 2015) attempted to address these grievances, but incomplete implementation fueled lasting marginalization. After 2015, internal divisions and junta-led purges weakened Tuareg structures, paving the way for the FLA’s emergence as a structured and recent expression of their aspirations.

The JNIM, born from the evolution of the Salafist Group for Preaching and Combat (GSPC) and Al-Qaeda in the Islamic Maghreb (AQIM), solidified its Malian roots in the 2000s. The 2017 merger of Ansar Dine, Al-Mourabitoune, and the Macina Katiba placed the group under Iyad Ag Ghali’s unified command. Since 2025, the JNIM has pursued an ambiguous “nationalization” strategy, positioning itself as a local political interlocutor while maintaining extreme violence, marked by severe human rights violations and decentralized power to align its Katibas with local entities.

This strategy allows the group to expand its influence in rural areas of Central and Northern Mali, exploiting community tensions, corruption, and public service inefficiencies. The FLA–JNIM alliance leverages advanced asymmetrical warfare tactics. The JNIM deploys sophisticated hybrid operations, combining vehicle-borne improvised explosive devices (VBIEDs) for breaching defenses with rapid motorcycle units for exploitation. Their arsenal includes night infiltration, extensive use of improvised explosive devices (IEDs) to paralyze army movements, targeted assassinations, and systematic harassment of isolated garrisons to erode troop morale. Mastery of drone technology and anti-aircraft capabilities further cements their battlefield advantage, as seen in encounters like Tinzaouaténe, though they struggle to hold fortified positions.

The FLA contributes critical territorial expertise, including intimate knowledge of tracks, extreme mobility, lightning strikes, tribal network exploitation, and the ability to hold symbolic zones like Kidal. Its efficient intelligence service was confirmed when Africa Corps’ negotiated withdrawal from Kidal on April 26 underscored Bamako’s loss of control in the North.

The conflict transcends military dimensions, evolving into a struggle for control over resources and trade routes—both legal and illicit. By securing the Kidal-Gao-Mopti triangle, the JNIM and FLA aim to sanctify transit corridors essential to war economies. Controlling these axes facilitates financing through smuggling rents (gold, fuel) and illegal trafficking (drugs, migration networks), transforming territorial dominance into a vital financial lever. Similar dynamics apply along the Bamako–Kayes–Bakel axis, where tolls are extracted daily from the 3,000 trucks supplying Mali via the port of Dakar.

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

This political and military void plays into the hands of the Islamic State in the Sahel (EIS), which capitalizes on state collapse to extend its influence.

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

The Islamic State in the Sahel (EIS) represents today’s most volatile and unpredictable actor. Since 2023, it has consolidated its presence in the Ménaka–Ansongo corridor, exploiting state collapse and rivalries among armed groups to extend control over Mali-Niger border zones. Unlike the JNIM, which seeks “localization,” the EIS pursues an expansion strategy rooted in terror, eliminating perceived hostile communities and capturing trade 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 seizing new sanctuaries in a fragmented territory.

With the AES unable to consolidate its forces, the EIS emerges 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 void neither the Malian army nor regional allies can currently fill.

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

Since 2022, Russia has used Mali as a security laboratory and strategic projection point in the Sahel, acting as a custom security broker. It provides arms, instructors, mercenaries, and protection in exchange for mining concessions, logistical access, and political advantages. Moscow’s strategy is purely extractive: securing gold and lithium deposits takes precedence over Mali’s development.

Five years after Wagner’s initial deployment, paramilitary presence has institutionalized under the Africa Corps banner, with 1,000 to 1,200 personnel (instructors, drone specialists, protection units) operating under direct Russian Defense Ministry oversight via a tactical headquarters in Bamako. Despite this structured network, the security balance is paradoxical. Far from restoring stability, intensified violence and loss of rural control underscore the limits of outsourced security. The failure to stabilize territory reveals the inefficacy of a model disconnected from Malian realities.

The reverses in Kidal and Gao in late April 2026 mark a structural failure of the junta’s partnership with Africa Corps. The negotiated withdrawal of Russian forces symbolizes a major tactical rupture, transforming the “strategic partner” into a retreating actor. Even more significant, the JNIM’s direct communication to the Kremlin proposing a non-aggression pact deliberately ignores the Malian government, finalizing Bamako’s diplomatic isolation and confirming that the center of decision-making no longer resides with the junta.

Russia’s position is further weakened by Turkey’s rising influence as an alternative security actor. In recent months, Ankara has supplied Bamako with drones, guided munitions, light armored vehicles, and surveillance systems. These resources, more flexible, faster to deploy, and often cheaper, appeal to parts of the Malian military. They also fuel internal rivalries within the junta: some officers align with Turkey, while others remain loyal to Moscow. This competition further erodes command cohesion, already shaken by the death of Defense Minister Sadio Camara, the injuries to General Modibo Koné, and Assimi Goïta’s prolonged absence. Additionally, Turkey’s deployment of private forces to protect the junta leader suggests a rebuke of Russian contingents, whose influence now appears in question.

Russia’s posture in the Sahel has undergone a radical shift, from offensive sovereignism to defensive retreat. The inability of Africa Corps to secure vital axes or maintain control of Kidal exposes structural limits in Moscow’s security offering against a multisectoral threat. Meanwhile, Turkey’s growing clout further diminishes Russia’s leverage in Mali.

This void in Malian command forces a return to regional diplomacy, positioning Algeria as the silent but pivotal actor in reshaping Sahelian balances.

Algeria: the silent pivot of Sahelian recomposition

Since the 1990s, Algeria has played a central role in managing Mali’s crisis, brokering agreements in Tamanrasset (1991) and Algiers (2006, 2015). For Algeria, Northern Mali represents a vital buffer zone for national security. Its strategy rests on two pillars: preventing foreign forces from establishing a presence along its borders and maintaining a delicate balance among local armed groups in the Sahara.

Algeria favors a Mali that is neither entirely collapsed nor fully autonomous, seeking relative stability that keeps Bamako dependent on its mediation. It leverages historical ties with Tuareg communities while monitoring jihadist groups like the GSPC and AQIM, whose leaders emerged from Algeria’s 1990s insurgency. By keeping a close eye on these groups in Mali, Algeria ensures the Sahelian 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 counterbalance to Bamako. However, this diplomatic framework collapsed under two ruptures: first, Mali’s junta shattered the doctrine of excluding foreign powers by inviting massive Russian intervention; second, Algeria’s rapprochement with Nouakchott accelerated under diplomatic leadership, with Mauritania’s political support and regional funding.

Morocco’s growing influence in Mali now pushes Algeria to tighten regional vigilance. Rabat’s facilitation of AES access to the Atlantic and strengthening economic partnerships in the Sahel extends its reach, prompting Algiers to view this as a “strategic encirclement maneuver.”

In the current crisis, Algeria emerges as the silent but decisive actor. It rejected Russian mercenaries’ presence in Kidal and secured their withdrawal in line with its security doctrine. Positioning itself as the indispensable mediator—though contested by Bamako—it holds the key to any future political or military recomposition.

Despite this pivotal role, Algeria must contend with the AES’s emergence. This regional bloc, though united in opposition to foreign influence, struggles to translate its political rhetoric into tangible military capabilities.

The AES: a political project challenged by operational impotence

Established in September 2023, the Alliance of Sahel States (AES)—comprising Mali, Burkina Faso, and Niger—seeks to break free from traditional regional organizations, resist international pressures, and assert security autonomy. The alliance projects ambitious goals, from creating a joint counterterrorism force to establishing a common market and a logistical corridor to the Atlantic, supported by partnerships with Russia, Turkey, Iran, and the United Arab Emirates. Yet these projects remain largely aspirational.

Like the proposed joint force announced by the three regimes, the AES exists primarily in political rhetoric. Without an integrated command, shared doctrine, or operational capabilities, it fails to deliver on its promises. The mutualized use of drones appears to be the exception, but even this remains shrouded in ambiguity regarding shared implementation between national forces and Turkish contractors. The AES’s complete inability to respond to Kidal’s fall or recent coordinated attacks illustrates the stark gap between political ambition and military reality. As Mali lost Kidal, Gao, and multiple strategic axes simultaneously, no joint force was mobilized, and no operational solidarity mechanism activated. The AES’s operational silence during Kidal’s fall highlighted the chasm between words and ground realities.

Each AES member state is now mired in deep crises. Security-wise, border control is eroding under the proliferation of armed groups. Economically, sanctions and a lack of investment are suffocating growth. Institutionally, successive purges are compromising national cohesion. The rupture with ECOWAS further isolates the AES, leaving it without regional partners capable of compensating for its military weaknesses.

Thus, the AES appears more as an instrument of political legitimation for ruling regimes than a military alliance capable of stabilizing the region durably. This disconnect between ambition and reality opens a period of major uncertainty, requiring an analysis of Sahelian dynamics to predict possible scenarios for regional recomposition.

Sahelian dynamics: predictive analysis of regional recomposition scenarios

A predictive geopolitical approach helps decode weak signals and anticipate strategic ruptures that could redefine regional balances. This methodology identifies four potential trajectories, contingent on evolving power dynamics and actor interactions.

The central scenario predicts continued stagnation, characterized by persistent attacks and worsening economic conditions, confining the AES to a political framework without real military translation. At the opposite end, a scenario of relative stabilization could emerge if Algerian mediation fosters a peace initiative, reducing JNIM and FLA offensives. However, the threat of rapid degradation remains acute: a major terrorist attack on a strategic target could precipitate security and social collapse. Finally, a rupture scenario cannot be ruled out, where an unforeseen event—such as an internal coup or social explosion—could abruptly overthrow the ruling junta.

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

Assimi Goïta’s hold on power hinges on an exceptionally fragile conjuncture. His ability to restore credible command in a dislocated state apparatus is paramount. The deaths of Sadio Camara and the incapacitation of Modibo Koné have shattered the junta’s security backbone. Goïta’s prolonged absence fuels speculation and internal rivalries, opening the door to a possible overthrow. The military, weakened by purges and demoralization, is no longer an instrument of sovereignty but a fragmented body dependent on increasingly volatile external allies.

Since 2025, the JNIM’s blockade around Bamako has drained the capital’s resources. The April 25 attack proved this vulnerability, exposing the political center’s fragility and accelerating social decay. Mali is not only losing territory militarily but also the narrative of its sovereignist claims. The withdrawal of Africa Corps, the rise of the FLA–JNIM alliance, Turkey’s growing influence, and Algeria’s diplomatic reassertion reveal a nation once again at the mercy of external actors. European powers, disengaged from the Sahel and focused on other fronts, are watching as Mali becomes a battleground for influence.

In this recomposition, the Malian people bear the heaviest burden. They endure insecurity, diplomatic isolation, economic contraction, and a lack of political prospects. Their sovereignty is confiscated by soldiers, armed groups, or foreign powers, each pursuing their own agendas. The democratic project, already fragile since 2012, recedes further, making a return to popular sovereignty uncertain.

Burkina Faso now appears as the next vulnerable link. Its porous borders, advancing armed groups, weakening institutions, and growing dependence on external partners signal an impending crisis. Mali’s turmoil is no isolated episode but the opening act of a broader destabilization sequence with ramifications far beyond the Central Sahel.

This crisis raises urgent questions about the Sahel’s potential spillover into Europe, particularly regarding migration flows, trafficking, and the emergence of armed groups capable of destabilizing Gulf of Guinea states.