Amidst the vast, arid expanse of the Sahel, where conflicts unfold far from the gaze of many, Mali is now confronting a harsh truth: removing crucial partners who maintained the frontline against encroaching chaos carries severe ramifications.
The surge in attacks currently afflicting the nation is neither an unforeseen incident nor an unfortunate twist of fate. Instead, these security challenges represent the anticipated consequences of a political divergence, championed by Bamako as an assertion of national sovereignty. This proclaimed sovereignty, heavily amplified by anti-French rhetoric, served as a tool for internal legitimacy.
Bamako sought the departure of French forces, and Bamako achieved it.
The final French convoys exited Gao, Tessalit, and Ménaka amidst public derision from segments of the population, incited by years of accusatory narratives. At that moment, the operational realities seemed to hold little weight. The fact that in 2013, when jihadist columns threatened to sweep southwards, it was French forces that halted the imminent collapse of the Malian state, was largely overlooked.
President Emmanuel Macron articulated a stark observation: « Mali did not make the best decision by expelling the French army ». A straightforward, almost clinical statement, yet one that resonates today with undeniable strategic clarity.
The French head of state has consistently acknowledged past French missteps, recognizing that Paris perhaps overemphasized military solutions without adequately fostering essential local political reforms. However, on one critical point, the president remains unwavering: without French intervention, Mali could have descended into complete disarray. He previously asserted unequivocally: « Without France, Mali would no longer be a unified state ».
This stark reality appears to be re-emerging with brutal force.
The operational ground, unlike political discourse, is impervious to slogans or posturing. Following the evacuation of French bases, a stark security vacuum became immediately apparent. Groups aligned with Al-Qaeda and the Islamic State swiftly exploited these newly opened vulnerabilities. Where Operation Barkhane once contained, monitored, targeted, and gathered intelligence, Malian authorities now struggle to maintain lasting control over their expansive territory.
Behind these recent developments lies a somber memory that must not be forgotten.
Fifty-eight French soldiers perished in the Sahel.
Fifty-eight individuals fell in a conflict that was neither abstract nor theoretical. They lost their lives in Kidal, within the Adrar des Ifoghas, in In Delimane, on roads riddled with improvised explosive devices, during nocturnal operations, under scorching temperatures, and against an elusive, mobile, and diffuse adversary.
These soldiers were not occupiers. They were not colonial predators disguised in a militant narrative. They were the instruments of a military commitment undertaken by the French Republic to prevent the establishment of a terrorist sanctuary at the heart of the Sahel region.
They paid the ultimate price.
Their sacrifice demands at least one imperative: that their memory not be dissolved by ideological simplifications.
Indeed, France made errors. Yet, for many years, it also bore, almost single-handedly, a colossal military burden to preserve an already fragile regional stability.
Mali chose to sever ties with this established security framework in the name of proclaimed independence. It is now grappling with the profound consequences of that decision.
When Emmanuel Macron stated that Bamako had not made « the best decision », he was not expressing post-colonial resentment or sentimental regret. He was simply observing what reality now confirms with unforgiving cruelty: in certain parts of the world, declared sovereignty alone is insufficient to halt the advance of jihadist columns.
For France, the Sahel became a theater of diplomatic exhaustion.
But for the French soldiers, it remains something else entirely: a field of honor.
And that honor is not subject to the shifting winds of public opinion.
