How the Sahel’s Juntas are confronting escalating turmoil

Amid a backdrop of escalating violence and political upheaval, the Sahel region of Africa, particularly in Mali, Burkina Faso, and Niger, finds itself at a critical juncture.

As jihadist activity spreads and the presence of Western nations diminishes, local military juntas consolidate power without clear pathways toward restoring democracy. With the Sahel facing complex challenges, the juntas’ responses seem driven by necessity rather than strategic foresight, raising doubts about their long-term viability.

In Mali, the narrative begins with General Assimi Goïta, who seized power in a 2020 coup. In the years since, Goïta’s administration has signaled intentions to maintain authority until at least the end of the decade. This trend is echoed in Burkina Faso and Niger, where long-established military leaders aim to eliminate their challenges with a combination of force and promises of stability. Yet, while juntas solidify their control in urban centers, vast swathes of the Sahelian landscape remain beyond governmental oversight.

The recent spate of attacks on security forces—particularly in regions like Djibo, Timbuktu, and Eknewane—underlines the persistent insecurity. The Sahelian governments face formidable adversaries, notably jihadist groups like Jama‘at Nusrat al-Islam wa-l-Muslimin (JNIM), aligned with al-Qaida, and the Islamic State Sahel Province (ISSP). The environment has also fostered a complex interplay with traditional armed groups and local militias, sometimes clashing, other times cooperating, resulting in informal alliances that reflect deep-rooted community dynamics.

The crisis scenarios of the Sahel are deeply contextualized within the broader socio-political landscape of the region. The roots of instability trace back to the 2010s, notably the rebellion in Northern Mali that erupted in 2012, which ignited a cycle of violence fueled by a blend of historical grievances about land use, resource competition, systemic poverty, and rampant governmental corruption. Citizens, increasingly disillusioned with political institutions, have witnessed a steady erosion of trust in their governments—a sentiment further amplified by security forces often resorting to abusive tactics. The response has been punitive rather than reconciliatory, exacerbating insurgencies and prompting a rise in public support for extreme measures.

Western interventions have had counterproductive effects on the situation. France, the European Union, and the United States initially set out with militaristic approaches aimed at stabilizing the region, yet these strategies faltered in the face of widespread inability to curb violence. The coups of the early 2020s shattered already fragile frameworks; new alliances formed, notably with Russia, have failed to yield significant progress. The Malian government’s claim to have decisively defeated rebels in Kidal stands out as a Pyrrhic victory, overshadowed by the ongoing dominance of rebels in the wider region. With Russia stepping in to fill the void left by French retreat, anti-colonial narratives serve to further galvanize jihadists against perceived foreign adversaries.

The juntas’ struggle goes beyond mere military efforts as they systematically dismantle democratic structures. Political parties have been banned, dissenting media silenced under oppressive measures, and citizens’ ability to raise their voices has been significantly curtailed. There exist sources of criticism, particularly among labor unions that advocate for improved working conditions, but these movements operate within siloed frameworks rather than fostering an expansive revolution akin to previous uprisings in Mali or Burkina Faso.

Despite the authoritarian grip tightening, the juntas paradoxically enjoy considerable domestic support. Promises of heightened security, economic revitalization, and renewed national pride have resonated among citizens. Many perceive the military rule as a bulwark against the pervasive threats of jihadism, and the rhetoric of restoring sovereignty has been particularly compelling in the face of stagnant democratic renewal. As the security situation remains tenuous, promises made by military leaders resonate, regardless of the realities on the ground.

In European political circles, a profound sense of disillusionment prevails regarding policies toward the Sahel. As actions taken by local juntas continue to flout Western interests, there is growing recognition that influence in the region has diminished. Suggestions for a pragmatic shift in Europe’s approach—reconsidering the balance between economic interests and diplomatic engagement amid regional complexities—emphasize the need for policies that reflect current realities. Yet, prevalent discussions often regress to familiar themes, focusing narrowly on security and development partnerships without considering broad participation and grassroots engagement.

In the United States, interest in the Sahel fluctuates with changing administrations. The Trump years marked a decline in proactive engagement, as issues in the region were overshadowed by a broader focus on geopolitical rivalries and domestic matters. Under Biden, interest revitalized slightly, yet the response remains reactive rather than proactive. This ambivalence is telling in military actions, with U.S. Africa Command’s recent adaptation strategies rescaling operations to pivot toward coasts, reflecting a broader indifference to the Sahel’s intricacies.

Interestingly, past critiques regarding U.S. foreign policy in regions like Somalia suggest potential avenues for reassessing how the West deals with the Sahel. Notably, Bronwyn Bruton’s concept of “constructive disengagement” highlights the importance of recalibrating foreign policy to better align with ground realities rather than imposing externally driven narratives. The application of her principles to the Sahel could inspire alternative approaches that move beyond conventional military-centric models.

Bruton’s expert insights urge the West to focus on nurturing local initiatives, recommending development efforts that incorporate traditional leaders and community structures rather than imposing formal political authority. This decentralized approach could foster organic growth and resilience in local governance, an especially relevant proposition in the Sahel’s fragmented political landscape. Instead of focusing on missionaries of democracy, a nuanced engagement could harness the agency of existing actors to stabilize communities amidst existing chaos.

As the Sahel navigates these tumultuous waters, the convergence of political stagnation and violence suggests that the region will remain volatile well into the next decade. With possible scenarios predicting additional coups, jihadist advances in urban centers, or humanitarian crises, the path ahead remains uncertain. This complexity necessitates a recalibration of Western engagement strategies, recognizing that a return to prior policy frameworks is unlikely to suffice in a dramatically altered geopolitical milieu.

In conclusion, effective strategies for confronting the delineating turmoil in the Sahel hinge on an understanding of local complexities and cultural dynamics. The juntas, while commanding authority, also navigate a landscape fraught with treacherous challenges that extend beyond mere military engagements. Solutions must adapt to the evolving realities of belief and movement across this region, integrating grassroots initiatives and fostering genuine partnerships—providing a sliver of hope against a backdrop of escalating turmoil. With awareness of interconnected vulnerabilities, the potential for constructive dialogue and impact may yet lay the groundwork for stability and peace in a region long characterized by strife.