Mali crisis: strategic stakes and regional spillover effects

Since 2012, Mali has been grappling with a multidimensional crisis that has reshaped the geopolitics of the Sahel. The gradual erosion of central state authority has led to territorial fragmentation, where armed groups and foreign powers vie for control. Once a cornerstone of Western counterterrorism strategies through France’s Serval (2013) and Barkhane (2014) operations, Mali underwent a historic shift in 2022. By demanding the withdrawal of French troops, the Malian junta signaled a strategic pivot toward Russia, placing sovereign reinstatement at the heart of its political narrative.

This ambition was formalized in September 2023 with the creation of the Alliance of Sahel States (AES), alongside Burkina Faso and Niger. Bamako aimed to redefine regional balances outside Western influence. Yet, this vision of full sovereignty now faces harsh military and diplomatic realities. Coordinated attacks by the JNIM (Group for the Support of Islam and Muslims) and the FLA (Azawad Liberation Front), coupled with internal instability and Russia’s shifting paramilitary role, threaten to undermine the alliance’s foundations.

How do the current security collapse and Africa Corps’ negotiated withdrawal from Kidal expose the fragility of the AES’ sovereign project amid Algeria’s and Russia’s complex influence games?

The collapse of Mali’s command: from April 25 offensive to the fall of Kidal

The crisis unfolded with a series of warning signs: the targeted assassination of a Malian soldier in Konna on April 20, followed by the Islamic State in the Sahel’s attack on Tessit on April 22. The porous defenses revealed the junta’s inherent weakness. The arrests of prominent generals like Abass Demblélé and Kéba Sangaré exposed a climate of terror where security services prioritized regime survival over national security. The withdrawal of French forces left a security vacuum that endogenous solutions, despite Russian support, failed to fill. Wagner’s arrival coincided with a surge in violence against civilians under a counterinsurgency framework, exemplified by the Mourrah operation. As instability persists, insecurity is no longer just a military challenge but a critical factor eroding the junta’s legitimacy in the eyes of a population demanding tangible results amid worsening living conditions.

On April 25, an unprecedented offensive struck multiple key locations simultaneously: Mopti, Konna, Sévaré, Bourem, Gao, Bamako’s Senou airbase, and the Kati garrison. In Kati, a vehicle bomb destroyed the Defense minister’s residence, killing Sadio Camara and critically injuring Generals Modibo Koné and Oumar Diarra. President Assimi Goïta’s exfiltration marked the collapse of the political-military command, exposing the regime’s vulnerability.

That evening, the JNIM claimed responsibility and, alongside the FLA, announced the capture of Kidal. By April 26, Russia’s Africa Corps had negotiated an exit corridor before abandoning the city, leaving behind equipment and ammunition. On April 27, the presidency remained silent while the army cited a mere “redeployment,” a stark contrast to ground realities. Reports indicated disorganized troop movements, desertions, and severed communications between headquarters.

Between April 28 and May 1, the situation deteriorated rapidly. Coordinated attacks paralyzed vital axes linking Gao, Ménaka, and Ansongo, isolating key eastern garrisons. The Malian security apparatus showed signs of systemic breakdown, with loyalist units retreating toward Ségou and Koulikoro under relentless pressure from armed groups and internal disarray. Factional clashes within the army fueled rumors of an impending coup, while Goïta’s prolonged absence intensified speculation about a power vacuum. By May 2, escalating tensions prompted diplomatic initiatives in Algeria and Mauritania to broker a political solution.

Yet, these efforts face a worsening reality: the tactical alliance between the FLA and JNIM.

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

The alliance between the Azawad Liberation Front (FLA) and the JNIM represents one of the crisis’s most decisive turning points. Historically distinct, both groups now share a common objective: ousting the Malian junta and reshaping northern and central Mali’s power dynamics. Their primary goal, however, is to reclaim control of strategic spaces that underpin the Sahel’s criminal economies.

This convergence culminated in the coordinated attacks that led to Kidal’s fall and the accelerating disintegration of loyalist forces in the North and Center.

The FLA traces its roots to Touareg rebellions of the 1990s, 2006, and 2012, driven by long-ignored identity and territorial demands. The Tamanrasset (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-led purges weakened Touareg structures, paving the way for the FLA’s emergence as a structured, modern expression of these aspirations.

The JNIM, born from the metamorphosis of the GSPC and later AQMI, has deepened its Malian roots since the 2000s. Its 2017 merger under Iyad Ag Ghali’s leadership positioned the group as a unified force. 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 structures aligning with local entities. This approach allows it to extend influence in rural central and northern Mali by exploiting community tensions, corruption, and state inefficiency.

The FLA-JNIM alliance leverages advanced asymmetric warfare tactics. The JNIM’s operational effectiveness relies on hybrid and sophisticated methods: VBIEDs for rupture, rapid motorbike units for exploitation, night infiltrations, and intensive use of IEDs to paralyze army movements. Targeted assassinations and systematic harassment of isolated garrisons erode troop morale and break local command chains. Mastery of drones and anti-air capabilities grants them an edge in skirmishes, as seen in Tinzaouaténe, though they struggle to hold fortified positions.

The FLA contributes critical territorial expertise: intimate knowledge of routes, extreme mobility, lightning strikes, tribal networks, and symbolic strongholds like Kidal. Its efficient intelligence service further bolsters the alliance. The April 26 negotiated withdrawal of Africa Corps confirmed Bamako’s loss of control over the North.

Beyond military aspects, the conflict is a struggle for resource and trade route control, both licit and illicit. By dominating the Kidal-Gao-Mopti triangle, the JNIM and FLA seek to secure transit corridors vital to the war economy. Controlling these axes facilitates funding through smuggling rents (gold, fuel) and illegal trades (drugs, migration networks), turning territorial dominance into a financial lifeline. This logic extends to the Bamako-Kayes-Bakel axis, where tolls are extracted daily from 3,000 trucks supplying Mali via Dakar’s port.

The locking 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’s complementary effectiveness against a now headless Malian command. The regime’s pillars crumbling and coup rumors in Bamako confirm the crisis has transcended security, threatening the very existence of the Malian state.

This political and military vacuum plays into the hands of the Islamic State in the Sahel (EIS), which is expanding its influence amid state collapse.

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

The Islamic State in the Sahel (EIS) is today the most volatile and unpredictable actor. Since 2023, it has consolidated its presence in the Ménaka-Ansongo corridor, exploiting state collapse and armed group rivalries to extend control over Mali-Niger border zones. Unlike the JNIM, which seeks to “localize,” the EIS pursues a terror-driven expansion strategy, eliminating perceived hostile communities and capturing trade routes. The Malian command’s collapse opens a strategic space the EIS could exploit, either challenging the JNIM for jihadist leadership or seizing new sanctuaries in a fragmented territory.

In a context where the AES cannot unify its forces, the EIS emerges as the primary potential beneficiary of Mali’s crisis. This dynamic is amplified by Africa Corps’ hasty withdrawal, leaving a security void neither the Malian army nor regional allies can currently fill.

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

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

Five years after Wagner’s initial deployment, the Russian paramilitary presence has institutionalized under the Africa Corps banner. This contingent, numbering 1,000–1,200 personnel (instructors, drone specialists, protection units), operates under the Russian Defense Ministry’s direct oversight via a tactical headquarters in Bamako. Despite this structured network between the capital and key hubs like Mopti, Gao, and Kidal, security outcomes are paradoxical. Far from delivering promised stabilization, violence has intensified, and rural control has slipped away—evidence of the limitations of a “proxy security” model. Replacing national forces with foreign contingents failed to curb the threat, exposing the disconnect between the strategy and Mali’s territorial realities.

The reverses at Kidal and Gao in late April 2026 highlighted Africa Corps’ structural failure. The negotiated withdrawal symbolized a major tactical rupture, transforming the “strategic partner” into a retreating force. Even more significant, the JNIM’s direct communication attempt to the Kremlin—proposing a non-aggression pact while ignoring Bamako—sealed the junta’s diplomatic isolation and confirmed that power no longer resides with the Malian government.

Russia’s position is further weakened as Turkey emerges as an alternative security actor. In recent months, Ankara has supplied Bamako with drones, guided munitions, light armored vehicles, and surveillance systems. These more agile, faster-to-deliver, and often cheaper solutions appeal to parts of the Malian military. They also fuel internal rivalries within the junta: some officers favor the Turkish partnership, while others remain aligned with Moscow. This competition further erodes command cohesion, already shaken by Defense Minister Sadio Camara’s death, General Modibo Koné’s injuries, and Goïta’s prolonged absence. Additionally, Turkey’s private forces securing the junta leader’s safety suggest a rejection of Russian contingents, whose influence now appears in question.

Finally, Russia’s Sahel posture has undergone a radical shift: from an offensive sovereign stance to a defensive retreat. Africa Corps’ inability to secure vital axes or maintain Kidal’s lock demonstrated the structural limits of Moscow’s security offering against a multisectoral threat. Concurrently, Turkey’s rising influence further diminishes Russia’s leverage in Mali.

This void in the Malian command structure forces a return to regional diplomacy, with Algeria emerging as the silent pivot to redraw Sahelian balances.

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 Agreements (2006, 2015). 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 relative stability that keeps Bamako dependent on its mediation. It leverages historical ties with Touareg 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 in Mali, Algeria ensures the Malian sanctuary does not become a rear base for attacks on its northern frontier.

Algeria’s Sahel strategy historically relied on the “Touareg lever,” using Azawad movements as a permanent counterbalance to Bamako. However, this diplomatic framework collapsed due to two ruptures. First, the Malian junta shattered Algeria’s first pillar—the exclusion of foreign powers—by inviting Africa Corps’ massive intervention. Second, Algeria accelerated rapprochement efforts with Nouakchott under Mauritanian political support and regional financing.

Morocco’s growing influence over the Malian junta now pushes Algeria to heighten regional vigilance. Mali is at the epicenter of a diplomatic confrontation between Rabat and Algiers. By facilitating the AES’s Atlantic access and strengthening economic partnerships, Morocco extends its Sahel influence. For Algeria, Morocco’s presence on its southern border is interpreted as a “strategic encirclement maneuver.”

In the current crisis, Algeria emerges as a silent but decisive actor. It refused Russian mercenaries’ presence in Kidal and secured their withdrawal in line with its security doctrine. It positions itself as the indispensable mediator, despite Bamako’s resistance, for any future political or military recomposition.

Despite this pivotal role, Algeria must contend with the AES’s emergence. Though politically united against foreign influence, the bloc struggles to translate rhetoric into real military capabilities.

The AES: a political project challenged by operational impotence

Founded in September 2023, the Alliance of Sahel States (AES)—comprising Mali, Burkina Faso, and Niger—embodies a sovereignist ambition to emancipate from regional organizations, bypass international pressures, and establish security autonomy.

The alliance touts ambitious goals, from a joint counterterrorism force to a common market and a logistical corridor to the Atlantic. To support this vision, the juntas have forged partnerships with new strategic allies like Russia, Turkey, Iran, and the UAE. Yet, these projects remain largely aspirational.

Like the announced joint force, the AES exists primarily in political declarations, lacking integrated command, shared doctrine, or mobilizable operational capabilities. Apart from drones, whose use appears to be shared between Bamako and Ouagadougou, operational implementation remains unclear. The AES’s total inability to intervene during Kidal’s fall or the latest coordinated attacks highlights the chasm between political ambitions and military means. As Mali simultaneously lost Kidal, Gao, and critical axes, no joint force was mobilized, and no solidarity mechanism activated. The AES’s operational silence during Kidal’s fall underscored the gap between rhetoric and reality.

First, the three AES member states are mired in deep crises. Security-wise, border control is eroding under the proliferation of armed groups. Economically, sanctions and investment droughts have triggered a critical crisis. Institutionally, successive purges have compromised national cohesion.

Moreover, the rupture with ECOWAS further isolates the AES, leaving it without regional partners capable of offsetting its military weaknesses.

Thus, the AES resembles more an instrument for legitimizing incumbent regimes than a military alliance capable of durably stabilizing the region.

This disconnect between AES ambitions and ground realities opens a period of major uncertainty. Beyond current alliances, analyzing Sahelian dynamics is essential to predict regional recomposition scenarios.

Sahelian dynamics: predictive reading of regional recomposition scenarios

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

The central scenario predicts stagnant tensions, with persistent attacks and economic decline, confining the AES to a political framework without concrete military translation. Conversely, a relative stabilization scenario could emerge if Algerian mediation brokered a peace initiative, reducing JNIM and FLA offensives.

However, rapid degradation remains a real threat: a major terrorist attack on a strategic target could trigger systemic security and social collapse. Finally, a rupture scenario cannot be ruled out, where an unforeseen event—such as an internal coup or social explosion—abruptly topples the ruling junta.

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

Assimi Goïta’s regime’s longevity now hinges on an exceptionally fragile conjuncture. Everything depends on his ability to restore credible command in a dislocated state apparatus. The deaths of Sadio Camara and the incapacitation of Modibo Koné shattered the junta’s security backbone. Goïta’s prolonged absence fuels speculation and internal rivalries, paving the way for a potential overthrow. The army, weakened by purges and demoralization, is no longer a sovereignty instrument but a fragmented body reliant on increasingly volatile external allies.

Since 2025, the JNIM’s blockade around Bamako has drained the capital’s resources, as evidenced by the April 25 attack. It reveals the political center’s vulnerability and accelerates social crisis, exposing the state’s collapse. Mali is not just losing territory; it is losing its sovereignist narrative. The withdrawal of Africa Corps, the rise of the FLA-JNIM alliance, Turkey’s growing influence, and Algeria’s diplomatic return show a nation once again a playground for external powers. European powers, engaged elsewhere, have disengaged from the Sahel, leaving the field open for new actors to reshape regional balances.

In this recomposition, 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 soldiers, armed groups, or foreign powers, each pursuing their agendas. The democratic project, already fragile since 2012, recedes further, making a return to popular sovereignty uncertain.

Finally, Burkina Faso appears as the next vulnerable link. Its porous borders, advancing armed groups, weakening institutions, and growing dependence on external partners signal that the Malian crisis is no isolated episode but the opening of a regional destabilization sequence with effects far beyond central Sahel.

Facing this peril, assessing the Sahel’s evolution is critical for Europe, particularly regarding migration flows, illicit trafficking, and the rise of armed groups capable of destabilizing Gulf of Guinea states.

The Malian crisis thus heralds a profound recomposition phase where state collapse, armed actors’ ascent, and competition among external powers redraw an unstable Sahel whose repercussions will extend far beyond the region.