The assault claimed on Sunday, September 20 by the al-Qaeda-affiliated Group for the Support of Islam and Muslims (JNIM) on the Sévaré air base and the Konna military camp has reignited a fierce public debate in Mali about the true effectiveness of the junta’s security strategy. The attack not only exposed the vulnerability of a system that has received massive investments in advanced equipment and the deployment of Russian Africa Corps fighters, but also sparked widespread reactions across the country, with many questioning whether the current approach can deliver lasting security. As the fallout continues, the question on everyone’s mind is: what comes next for Mali’s fight against jihadist groups?
The paradox of Mali’s revamped security model
Since the coups of 2020 and 2021, Mali’s military authorities have fundamentally overhauled their defense policy. The break with Western partners, particularly France, went hand in hand with a strategic pivot toward Russia. Bamako presents this shift as a reaffirmation of sovereignty, applying the principle of freely choosing partners to strengthen its army and combat armed groups without depending on foreign powers. Politically, this narrative resonates strongly, but on the ground, the reality is far more complex. The arrival of new equipment, notably Turkish-made drones, and the presence of Russian personnel have not eliminated the jihadist threat. Recent attacks prove that armed groups retain significant capacity to cause harm. The challenge lies not in the quantity of weapons available, but in the ability to convert military power into effective territorial control.
Africa Corps faces an asymmetric war
The Russian presence is one of the pillars of Mali’s new security architecture. After the French withdrawal and the end of Operation Barkhane, Bamako made an exclusive choice of Moscow. The Africa Corps, which succeeded the Wagner Group in several African countries, is fully integrated into Mali’s security apparatus. However, this presence directly collides with the effectiveness of a deeply rooted insurgency in several regions. JNIM fighters operate in familiar environments, master the terrain, and employ asymmetric tactics that reduce the impact of technological superiority. This reality puts Bamako’s chosen model to a direct test. Modern drones conduct surveillance and strike precise targets, helicopters support ground troops, and foreign fighters bolster certain units—but none of these means alone guarantees lasting control of the territory.
A military power struggling to secure the ground
The Sévaré episode unfolds in a worrying security context. Malian forces are suffering deadly attacks claimed by jihadist groups targeting military positions, strategic axes, and vital infrastructure for maintaining the national system. This situation highlights a structural weakness: the army concentrates considerable resources around main bases without managing to control rural areas and surrounding communication routes. Sévaré is the most emblematic case of this limitation. As a major military hub in central Mali, the town hosts air infrastructure for surveillance and combat. The strike on this base proves that JNIM retains the ability to hit highly strategic installations. The repetition of such attacks exacerbates the situation. Evaluating a security strategy does not rest on the number of drones acquired, strikes conducted, or operations announced, but on its concrete capacity to prevent attacks, protect populations, and sustainably maintain state authority.
The technology trap
The emphasis on Bayraktar drones illustrates an operational contradiction. Mali has equipped itself with high-performance devices for intelligence and long-range strikes, a clear leap forward for national military capabilities. However, advanced technology remains exposed when concentrated on fixed, identifiable infrastructure. Confirmation of JNIM’s claims regarding the Sévaré equipment would mark a major symbolic setback for Bamako, proving that part of the technological investment can be neutralized directly at its parking bases. The Malian conflict demonstrates that a war against a jihadist organization demands more than sophisticated equipment: it relies imperatively on human intelligence, force mobility, population security, protection of logistical axes, and a continuous state presence in remote areas.
The political cost for the junta
For Mali’s junta, the stakes go beyond the strictly military realm. Since taking power, it has built its political discourse on national sovereignty and the fight against terrorism. The withdrawal of French forces and the rapprochement with Russia are touted as symbols of a new security policy free from old dependencies. Each attack on a strategic position reveals the limits of this orientation and directly confronts the authorities with the real results of changing military partners on the country’s security. In Sévaré as elsewhere, the effectiveness of this policy is verified exclusively by facts on the ground.
Beyond Bamako and military bases
For Malian populations, strategic debates about France, Russia, Wagner, the Africa Corps, or Turkish drones remain secondary to daily imperatives. The sole priority is the effective security of villages, roads, markets, and towns. The success of a security policy is validated not by displaying weapons at military ceremonies, but by neutralizing threats against populations and permanently restoring the state. The Sévaré attack confirms the depth of Mali’s security crisis. The junta has renewed its alliances, strengthened its arsenal, and asserted its will to regain the initiative. Nevertheless, military power alone is not enough to defeat JNIM. Bamako’s challenge now is to transform its military means into lasting security. As long as strategic bases come under attack, communication routes remain vulnerable, and jihadist groups set the pace of action, the junta’s security model faces a critical test. In Sévaré, power is now judged exclusively on its results on the ground.
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