The Mali crisis: a regional power struggle reshaping the Sahel

Since 2012, Mali has been trapped in a deepening crisis that has redrawn the geopolitical map of the Sahel. The erosion of central authority has led to territorial fragmentation, where armed groups and foreign powers now compete for influence. Once a key player in Western counterterrorism strategies through operations like Serval (2013) and Barkhane (2014), Mali made a historic shift in 2022 by demanding the withdrawal of French troops. This move marked a strategic pivot toward Russia, with sovereignty becoming the central narrative of its military government.

The ambition to assert full sovereignty took institutional form in September 2023 with the creation of the Alliance of Sahel States (AES). Alongside Burkina Faso and Niger, Bamako sought to redefine regional balances outside Western influence. Yet this vision of complete sovereignty now faces harsh military and diplomatic realities. Coordinated attacks by the JNIM and FLA, compounded by internal instability and the shifting role of Russian paramilitary forces, are straining the foundations of this new alliance.

What do the current security collapse and the negotiated withdrawal of Africa Corps from Kidal reveal about the fragility of the AES’s sovereignist project in the face of complex power dynamics between Algeria and Russia?

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

The crisis escalated with a series of warning signs: the targeted assassination of a Malian soldier in Konna on April 20, followed by an attack in Tessit by the Islamic State in the Sahel on April 22. These breaches in defense lines exposed the fragility of the Malian state. The arrests of high-profile military figures such as Generals Abass Demblélé and Kéba Sangaré revealed a climate of repression, where special forces were deployed to protect the ruling regime rather than secure the nation. The departure of French forces left a security vacuum that endogenous solutions, despite Russian support, have struggled to fill.

The arrival of Wagner Group forces brought an increase in violence against civilians under the guise of counterinsurgency operations, exemplified by the Mourrah campaign. As these forces failed to stabilize the territory, the junta’s sovereignist rhetoric clashed with operational failure. Insecurity is no longer just a military challenge—it has become a political liability, deepening disillusionment among a population desperate for tangible improvements in living conditions.

On April 25, an unprecedented offensive struck multiple key locations simultaneously: Mopti, Konna, Sévaré, Bourem, Gao, Bamako-Sénou Airport, and the Kati military base. In Kati, a car bomb 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 collapse of Mali’s politico-military command, revealing the vulnerability of the regime’s core.

That evening, the JNIM claimed responsibility for the attacks through an official statement and, together with the FLA, announced the capture of Kidal. By April 26, Russian Africa Corps forces had negotiated a withdrawal corridor before abandoning the city. This hasty retreat resulted in the loss of a strategically vital and highly symbolic stronghold for the Kremlin, leaving behind equipment and munitions.

On April 27, the presidency remained silent while the army referred to a mere repositioning, a description completely disconnected from ground realities. Reports from local and regional sources described chaotic troop movements, desertions, and communication breakdowns between headquarters.

Between April 28 and May 1, the situation deteriorated rapidly. A wave of coordinated attacks paralyzed critical supply routes connecting Gao, Ménaka, and Ansongo, isolating the region’s main garrisons. The Malian security apparatus showed signs of systemic failure. Several loyalist units began retreating toward Ségou and Koulikoro, a hasty withdrawal driven by relentless pressure from armed groups and growing internal disorganization within the command structure.

Factional clashes within the military fueled rumors of an impending coup, while the prolonged absence of Assimi Goïta from public life intensified speculation about a potential power vacuum. As tensions peaked on May 2, diplomatic initiatives led by Algeria and Mauritania sought a negotiated political solution. However, the success of these efforts is undermined by an increasingly complex ground reality: the emergence of a 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 Group for the Support of Islam and Muslims (JNIM) now stands as one of the most decisive turning points in the Malian crisis. These two groups, with distinct historical trajectories, have converged toward a shared goal: to remove the Malian junta and reshape the power dynamics of northern and central Mali. Above all, they seek to regain control of the strategic spaces that underpin the Sahel’s illicit economies.

This convergence culminated in coordinated attacks that led to the fall of Kidal and accelerated the disintegration of loyalist forces across the north and center of the country.

The FLA traces its roots to the Tuareg rebellions of the 1990s, 2006, and 2012, driven by long-ignored identity and territorial claims. The Tamanrasset Accords (1991) and the Algiers Agreements (2006 and 2015) attempted to address these grievances, but incomplete implementation fueled lasting marginalization. After 2015, internal divisions, tribal rivalries, and purges by the junta weakened Tuareg structures, paving the way for the FLA’s emergence as the most organized expression of recent resistance.

The JNIM, born from the transformation of the Salafist Group for Preaching and Combat (GSPC) and later Al-Qaeda in the Islamic Maghreb (AQIM), has been deeply embedded in Mali since the 2000s. Its current structure resulted from the 2017 merger of Ansar Dine, Al-Mourabitoun, and the Macina Katiba, unified under Iyad Ag Ghali. Since 2025, the group has pursued an ambiguous ‘localization’ strategy: it positions itself as a local political interlocutor while sustaining extreme violence, marked by grave human rights violations and a decentralized organizational model that aligns its Katibas with local entities.

This strategy allows the JNIM to expand its influence in rural areas of central and northern Mali by exploiting community tensions, corruption, and the ineffectiveness of public services.

Notably, the FLA–JNIM alliance leverages advanced asymmetric warfare tactics. The JNIM’s operational effectiveness relies on hybrid and sophisticated methods. It combines vehicle-borne improvised explosive devices (VBIEDs) to breach defenses with rapid motorcycle assaults to exploit openings. This firepower is complemented by nighttime infiltrations and widespread use of improvised explosive devices (IEDs) to paralyze troop movements. The group also employs targeted assassinations and systematic harassment of isolated garrisons to erode morale and fragment local command structures. Mastery of drone technology and anti-aircraft capabilities further enhances its combat dominance in mobile engagements, such as at Tinzaouatène, though it rarely seizes strongly held positions.

The FLA contributes decisive territorial expertise: intimate knowledge of desert tracks, extreme mobility, lightning strikes, exploitation of tribal networks, and the ability to hold symbolic zones like Kidal. It also maintains an effective intelligence service. The April 26 withdrawal of Africa Corps from Kidal, after negotiating a safe exit corridor, confirmed Bamako’s loss of control over the north.

Beyond military dimensions, the conflict is also 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 consolidate transit corridors essential to the war economy. Controlling these routes provides vital financial leverage through the capture of rents from smuggling (gold, fuel) and illegal trafficking (drugs, migration networks). This logic also extends to the Bamako–Kayes–Bakel axis, where tolls are extracted daily from the 3,000 trucks supplying Mali via the port of Dakar.

The locking down 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 effectiveness of the FLA–JNIM partnership 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 just security-related—it threatens the very existence of the Malian state.

Yet this political and military vacuum plays directly into the hands of the Islamic State in the Sahel (EIS), which is exploiting state collapse to extend its influence.

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

The Islamic State in the Sahel (EIS) has emerged as the most volatile and unpredictable actor in the region. Since 2023, it has consolidated its presence in the Ménaka–Ansongo corridor, capitalizing on the collapse of state structures and rivalries among armed groups to expand control over the Mali–Niger borderlands. Unlike the JNIM, which seeks to ‘localize’, the EIS pursues a strategy of terror and expansion. It eliminates communities perceived as hostile and captures commercial routes. The collapse of Mali’s command now opens a strategic space the EIS could exploit by challenging the JNIM for jihadist leadership or seizing new sanctuaries in a fragmented territory.

With the AES unable to coordinate forces, the EIS stands to gain the most from the Malian crisis. This trend is amplified by the hasty withdrawal of Africa Corps from key zones, leaving a security void that neither the weakened Malian army nor regional allies can currently fill.

Africa Corps in Mali: the end of Russia’s exceptional influence

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

Five years after Wagner Group’s initial deployment, Russian paramilitary presence has been institutionalized under the banner of Africa Corps. This contingent, numbering 1,000 to 1,200 personnel (trainers, drone specialists, protection units), operates under the direct supervision of Russia’s Defense Ministry via a tactical command center based in Bamako. Despite this structured network linking the capital to key hubs like Mopti, Gao, and Kidal, the security outcome has been paradoxical. Far from stabilization, violence has intensified and rural control has eroded—testimony to the armed groups’ dominance. This reveals the limitations of a proxy security model. Replacing national forces with foreign troops failed to contain the threat, exposing the disconnect between Russia’s strategy and Malian realities.

The reverses suffered in Kidal and Gao in late April 2026 marked a structural failure of the junta–Africa Corps partnership. The negotiated withdrawal of Russian forces symbolized 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 ignoring the Malian government—completed Bamako’s diplomatic isolation. This gesture confirmed that decision-making power no longer resides with the junta.

Russia’s position is further weakened by Turkey’s rising influence as an alternative security partner. In recent months, Ankara has supplied Bamako with drones, guided munitions, light armored vehicles, and surveillance systems. These more flexible, faster-to-deliver, and often cheaper solutions appeal to parts of the Malian military. They also fuel internal rivalries within the junta: some officers align with Turkey, while others remain tied 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 the prolonged absence of President Assimi Goïta from public life. The use of Turkish private forces to protect the junta leader suggests a rejection of Russian contingents, whose influence now appears diminished.

Russia’s posture in the Sahel has undergone a radical shift: from an offensive sovereignist strategy to a defensive retreat. Africa Corps’ inability to secure vital routes and maintain control of Kidal exposed the structural limits of Moscow’s security offering in the face of a multisectoral threat. Meanwhile, Turkey’s growing alternative has further diminished Russia’s leverage in Mali.

This void left by Mali’s fractured command forces a return to regional diplomacy. Algeria, acting as a silent pivot, becomes the key actor in reshaping the Sahelian balance.

Algeria: the silent pivot in Sahelian recomposition

Since the 1990s, Algeria has played a central role in managing the Malian crisis. It sponsored the Tamanrasset Accords (1991) and the Algiers Agreements (2006 and 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 seeks a Mali that is neither completely collapsed nor fully autonomous. Its goal is relative stability that keeps Bamako dependent on Algerian mediation. To achieve this, Algiers leverages historical ties with Tuareg communities while monitoring jihadist groups rooted in the GSPC and AQIM. Many leaders of Sahelian terrorist groups emerged from Algeria’s 1990s insurgency. By maintaining ‘eyes on these groups’ in Mali, Algeria ensures the Malian sanctuary does not become a rear base for attacks on its southern border.

Algeria’s Sahel strategy historically relied on the ‘Tuareg lever’, using Azawad movements as a permanent counterbalance to Bamako. However, this diplomatic architecture collapsed under two ruptures. First, the Malian junta shattered the first pillar of Algeria’s doctrine—excluding foreign powers—by inviting massive Russian intervention through Africa Corps. Second, rapprochement efforts between Algiers and Nouakchott accelerated under Algerian diplomatic leadership, with political support from Mauritania and funding from regional partners.

Finally, Morocco’s growing influence with the Malian junta has intensified Algeria’s regional vigilance. Mali has become the epicenter of a diplomatic confrontation between Rabat and Algiers. By facilitating the AES’s access to the Atlantic and strengthening economic partnerships, Morocco is extending its influence into the Sahel. For Algeria, Morocco’s presence on its southern border is interpreted as a strategic encirclement maneuver.

In the current crisis, Algeria emerges as the silent but decisive actor. It opposed the presence of Russian mercenaries in Kidal and secured Moscow’s 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.

Yet Algeria must contend with the emergence of the AES. This bloc, while united against foreign influence, struggles to translate its political discourse into real military capabilities.

The AES: a political project tested by operational impotence

Founded in September 2023, the Alliance of Sahel States (AES) brings together Mali, Burkina Faso, and Niger in a sovereignist ambition. The bloc aims to break free from regional organizations, resist international pressure, and establish autonomous security frameworks.

The alliance has set ambitious goals, from creating a joint counterterrorism force to establishing a common market and a logistics corridor to the Atlantic. To support this vision, the three juntas have forged partnerships with new strategic allies including Russia, Turkey, Iran, and the United Arab Emirates. Yet these projects remain largely aspirational.

Like the proposed joint force announced by the regimes, the AES remains largely declarative, lacking an integrated command, a common doctrine, or mobilizable operational capabilities. Beyond drones—whose use appears to be shared between Bamako and Ouagadougou—there is ambiguity about their actual deployment, divided between national forces and Turkish contractors. The AES’s complete inability to respond to the fall of Kidal and the recent coordinated attacks highlights the profound gap between political ambition and military reality. As Mali lost Kidal, Gao, and several strategic axes, no joint force was mobilized, and no mechanism of operational solidarity was activated. The AES’s operational silence during the fall of Kidal underscored the chasm between rhetoric and ground truth.

Each AES member state is now mired in deep crises. Security-wise, border control is eroding under pressure from armed groups. Economically, the alliance is suffocating under sanctions and a lack of investment. Institutionally, internal purges are compromising national cohesion.

Moreover, the rupture with ECOWAS has left the AES isolated, with no regional partners capable of compensating for its military weaknesses.

Thus, the AES functions more as a tool for political legitimation for the ruling regimes than as a military alliance capable of delivering lasting stability to the region.

This gap between the AES’s ambitions and its performance on the ground ushers in a period of major uncertainty. Beyond current alliances, it is essential to analyze Sahelian dynamics to predict potential scenarios for regional recomposition.

Sahelian dynamics: predictive scenarios for regional recomposition

Applying a predictive geopolitical lens to the Sahel allows us to decode weak signals and anticipate strategic ruptures that could redefine the regional balance. This approach identifies four potential trajectories, the realization of which depends on evolving power relations and actor interactions.

A central scenario predicts continued tensions, marked by persistent attacks and economic decline, leaving the AES as a political framework without concrete military translation. At the opposite end, a relative stabilization scenario could emerge if Algerian mediation succeeds in launching a peace initiative that reduces JNIM and FLA offensives.

However, the risk of rapid deterioration remains high: a major terrorist attack on a strategic target could precipitate a 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 a power vacuum: toward total regional recomposition

The longevity of Assimi Goïta’s rule now hinges on an exceptionally fragile conjuncture. It depends on his ability to restore credible command within a shattered state apparatus. The death of Sadio Camara and the incapacitation of Modibo Koné have broken the junta’s security backbone. The president’s prolonged absence fuels speculation and intensifies internal rivalries, opening the door to a potential overthrow. The army, weakened by purges and demoralization, is no longer an instrument of sovereignty—it has become 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 was proof of this vulnerability. It exposed the political center’s fragility and accelerated social crisis, signaling the collapse of the state. Mali is not only losing ground militarily—it is losing control of its sovereignist narrative. The withdrawal of Africa Corps, the rise of the FLA–JNIM alliance, Turkey’s growing influence, and Algeria’s assertive diplomacy reveal a country once again shaped by external powers. European powers, diverted by other global fronts, have largely disengaged from the Sahel.

In this recomposition, the Malian people are the primary victims. They endure insecurity, diplomatic isolation, economic contraction, and political disenfranchisement. Sovereignty is confiscated by soldiers, armed groups, or foreign powers—each pursuing their own agenda. The democratic project, already fragile since 2012, recedes further, and the return to popular sovereignty appears increasingly uncertain.

Finally, Burkina Faso may be the next vulnerable link. Its porous borders, advancing armed groups, weakening institutions, and dependence on external partners suggest the Malian crisis is not an isolated episode. It heralds a period of regional destabilization with effects likely to ripple far beyond the central Sahel.

It is crucial to assess the risks this evolution poses to Europe, particularly in terms of migration flows, illicit trafficking, and the emergence of armed groups capable of destabilizing states along the Gulf of Guinea.

The Malian crisis opens a profound period of recomposition, where state collapse, the rise of armed actors, and competition among external powers are redrawing an unstable Sahel. The repercussions of this transformation will extend far beyond the region.