Abstract
Terrorism remains a critical threat to Africa’s stability, with Jama’at Nasr al-Islam wal-Muslimin (JNIM) emerging as a dominant force in Mali and the broader Sahel since its formation in 2017. Formed through the merger of multiple jihadist groups aligned with al-Qaeda, JNIM has expanded by exploiting Mali’s political fragility, weak governance, ethnic tensions and the withdrawal of international security forces. This expansion is facilitated by the group’s adaptive organisational structure, strategic local alliances and engagement in illicit economies. This study employs an integrative literature review to critically assess scholarly and policy-based evidence on the factors contributing to JNIM’s rise. Grounded in the state failure theory, the review explores how systemic failures—political instability, socio-economic marginalisation and security vacuums—have created fertile ground for insurgent entrenchment. By synthesising diverse sources, the study offers a comprehensive understanding of JNIM’s growth and resilience, highlighting the urgent need for holistic, context-sensitive counterterrorism strategies in Mali and across the Sahel.
Introduction
Terrorism undeniably stands as one of the most pressing threats to the future of Africa and the global community. The emergence and escalating impact of violent extremist groups—including the Islamic State, Al-Qaeda, Boko Haram, Al-Shabaab and Jama’at Nasr al-Islam wal-Muslimin (JNIM)—represent major challenges to global peace and stability (Afriyie 2019; Afriyie et al. 2020; Afriyie 2024). Since its establishment in 2017, JNIM has become a dominant and fast-growing jihadist alliance in Mali and the wider Sahel region. Formed through the consolidation of several extremist factions—such as Ansar Dine, al-Mourabitoun, the Macina Liberation Front and the Sahara branch of al-Qaeda in the Islamic Maghreb—JNIM has successfully exploited local grievances, fragile governance and regional turmoil to strengthen its position (National Counterterrorism Center 2022; Thompson 2021). The group employs a dual strategy, blending militant jihadist tactics with pragmatic alliances at the local level. This has enabled JNIM to entrench itself within communities by addressing socio-economic concerns while simultaneously enforcing strict Islamist rule in areas under its control (Beevor 2022; National Counterterrorism Center 2022). The group’s growth is deeply tied to Mali’s enduring political instability, marked by a series of military coups, the withdrawal of key international forces such as France’s military and MINUSMA peacekeepers and the state’s limited reach across much of the country (Center for Preventive Action 2024; Karr 2024). This vacuum of authority has facilitated JNIM’s territorial expansion beyond its northern strongholds into central and southern Mali, including critical zones such as Mopti and regions close to the capital, Bamako (Beevor 2022; Kapetanovic 2025). Moreover, JNIM capitalises on longstanding ethnic tensions—particularly among marginalised communities such as the Fulani—and sustains its operations through illicit activities such as taxation, smuggling and kidnapping for ransom, which also serve as tools for recruitment and local control (National Counterterrorism Center 2022; Thompson 2021).
Furthermore, JNIM’s organisational flexibility—particularly its strategy of empowering local commanders while maintaining ideological loyalty to al-Qaeda’s global jihadist mission—has enabled it to expand into new regions, making it a durable and complex threat (Kapetanovic 2025). This expansion undermines Mali’s sovereignty, worsens humanitarian conditions by displacing large populations and disrupting basic services and contributes to broader instability across the Sahel through transnational militancy and rivalry with other jihadist groups (Center for Preventive Action 2024; Karr 2024). Understanding the reasons behind JNIM’s growing influence in Mali requires a holistic analysis of the interrelated political, social, economic and security factors that have enabled its rise in a context marked by state weakness and regional insecurity. To investigate this, the present study employs an integrative or narrative literature review—an appropriate qualitative approach for critically evaluating a broad and diverse body of existing research on a complex topic (Snyder 2019). An integrative literature review (ILR), as described by Broome (1993), goes beyond summarising primary studies. It synthesises multiple types of evidence—including scholarly articles, opinion pieces, policy documents and reports—to develop new insights and a comprehensive understanding of the issue at hand. This approach allows the researcher to explore a wider range of perspectives and sources (Snyder 2019; Torraco 2016). In addition to the ILR, this study explicitly employs historical analysis to examine the evolution of Mali’s political crisis and how past events shape the rise of JNIM. In this review, the researcher systematically selected relevant literature through targeted keyword searches such as ‘Jama’at Nasr al-Islam wal-Muslimin terrorist group in Mali’ and ‘terrorist groups in Mali’. Abstracts were initially screened, followed by full-text reviews before final selection. The data collection process was carefully monitored to ensure quality and reliability. Within this framework, the research seeks to answer a central question: Why is JNIM gaining ground in Mali despite substantial counterterrorism efforts? To explore this, the study applies the state failure theory as its primary analytical lens. The article is organised into the following sections: a conceptual and theoretical overview of state failure theory, a historical review of political unrest in Mali, an examination of JNIM as an organisation, analysis of the key drivers of instability in the country and concluding reflections on the findings.
Conceptual Framework: State Failure Theory
Rotberg (2002) asserts that the primary role of a state is to provide essential services to its citizens and ensure territorial security. A state is considered failed when it can no longer fulfil these obligations. Key indicators of state failure include a loss of legitimacy, inability to maintain order and failure to govern effectively. Rotberg also identifies economic decline and political instability as contributing factors, arguing that in such contexts, corruption becomes widespread, the economy deteriorates and the state is unable to meet the basic needs of its people. Additionally, the erosion of democratic norms, disregard for the rule of law and weakening of judicial independence further signal governance collapse. Piazza (2008) echoes this view, stating that failed or failing states are unable to provide political goods, resulting in rampant lawlessness. The government’s inability to command respect leads to internal conflict and secessionist threats from non-state actors, turning these states into safe havens for terrorism. Uzodike and Maiangwa (2012) argue that a complete loss of legitimacy, particularly when the majority of citizens no longer view the state as credible, fuels discontent and rebellion. Onapajo and Uzodike add that in such fragile states, porous borders are exploited by armed groups and individuals to smuggle weapons and destabilise the country. This poses serious security threats not only to the state’s own population but also to neighbouring countries and the international community. They note that many African countries are either failing or on the brink of failure. Rotberg describes these as ‘weak states’—nations that, while not entirely failed, can still offer limited political and economic services. However, Menkhaus (2003) emphasises that whether a state is weak, failing or failed, the instability they generate creates an enabling environment for terrorist groups to operate. Oviasigie (2013) reinforces this by noting that the breakdown of law and order in such environments allows terrorism to flourish, facilitating crimes such as kidnapping and other violent acts.
The application of state failure theory to the activities of JNIM in Mali offers a valuable lens through which to analyse how the breakdown or significant weakening of state institutions creates conditions conducive to the emergence and entrenchment of jihadist insurgencies. In the Malian context, this theory asserts that when a state loses its ability to ensure effective governance, maintain security and uphold the rule of law, a power vacuum emerges—one that armed non-state actors are quick to exploit. Mali exemplifies this dynamic. The government’s persistent inability to assert authority over expansive regions—particularly in the north and centre of the country—has resulted in enduring insecurity and critical governance shortcomings. This institutional failure is deeply rooted in a legacy of political turbulence, fragile governance structures, systemic corruption, ethnic exclusion and destabilising regional developments, notably the collapse of Libya in 2011 (Tobie and Sangaré 2019). These structural deficiencies have allowed groups such as JNIM—a jihadist coalition affiliated with al-Qaeda and established in 2017—to thrive. Mali’s central government has failed to maintain a monopoly over the legitimate use of force, especially outside the capital, Bamako. Its security apparatus suffers from chronic underfunding, operational disorganisation and frequent allegations of human rights violations, all of which further diminish public confidence and legitimacy (Kapetanovic 2025). This vulnerability is further exacerbated by repeated military coups and ongoing political instability, which continue to undermine the state’s capacity to respond to internal threats (Thurston 2024). Exploiting these weaknesses, JNIM has entrenched itself in regions with minimal or non-existent state presence—such as Mopti, Liptako-Gourma and northern Mali—where it has established operational sanctuaries and logistical hubs to support its insurgency (Kapetanovic 2025).
In the absence of effective state presence, JNIM has established a parallel governance system rooted in its rigid interpretation of Sharia law. This system offers legal adjudication, conflict resolution and security, often presenting JNIM as a more legitimate and reliable authority than the corrupt or abusive state officials it replaces (Kapetanovic 2025). Its governance extends to levying taxes, regulating commerce and enforcing social norms—tools that help solidify its dominance and secure local cooperation or compliance (Kapetanovic 2025; Nsaibia et al. 2023). By removing corrupt state actors and restoring a semblance of order in lawless regions, JNIM increasingly assumes the role of a de facto government, especially among marginalised ethnic communities long neglected by authorities in Bamako (Kapetanovic 2025). The Malian government’s persistent failure to address ethnic tensions and community grievances has enabled JNIM to entrench itself within these fault lines. The group manipulates existing conflicts—particularly among the Peul (Fulani), who frequently suffer from state repression and attacks by rival militias—by positioning itself as their defender and advocate. This strategy not only facilitates recruitment but also broadens the group’s reach and influence (Kapetanovic 2025). It illustrates how the collapse of state authority not only allows jihadist groups to operate but also deepens the very social divisions they exploit.
Moreover, JNIM’s endurance and growth are closely tied to its involvement in illicit economies. It draws revenue from activities such as artisanal gold mining, smuggling and extortion along critical routes like the Niger River. By employing tactics of economic warfare—blockading roads, sabotaging infrastructure and forcibly displacing communities—it undermines state control and consolidates its own grip over local economies (Kapetanovic 2025; Nsaibia et al. 2023). These financial networks not only sustain its militant operations but also enable the group to forge alliances and strengthen local loyalty through economic patronage. Mali’s governance failures reflect a wider pattern of state weakness across the Sahel. JNIM operates transnationally, extending its reach into neighbouring Burkina Faso, Niger and other states by taking advantage of porous borders and widespread regional instability (Kapetanovic 2025). JNIM strengthens its operational capacity and durability through strategic alliances with local armed groups and criminal networks. This regional entanglement complicates counterterrorism responses and illustrates how the collapse of governance in one country can trigger destabilising ripple effects across its neighbours (Kapetanovic 2025; Thurston, 2024). While the group aspires to assert control and gain legitimacy, its activities are often marked by substantial violence against civilians, including targeted attacks, forced displacement and deliberate economic disruption (Eizenga and Williams 2020; Nsaibia et al. 2023). However, such brutality frequently betrays underlying vulnerabilities, revealing difficulties in sustaining grassroots support. JNIM directs its violence not only at state security forces but also at international peacekeepers and rival factions, aiming to erode government authority and expel foreign military actors (Eizenga and Williams 2020; Nsaibia et al. 2023). Moreover, systemic corruption and abuse by the Malian state have alienated many local communities, creating an environment where JNIM can present itself as a more just and effective alternative. By removing corrupt officials and offering judicial services, security and religious instruction, the group has succeeded in building trust and legitimacy in areas where the state is either absent or deeply mistrusted (Kapetanovic 2025).
Historical Trajectory of Political Unrest in Mali: Background
Mali, a vast landlocked nation in West Africa, has experienced a prolonged and intricate history of political instability. This instability has deep roots in the region’s past—beginning with powerful pre-colonial empires, continuing through the colonial period and persisting into the post-independence era, shaped by ethnic and regional divisions, as well as recurring cycles of rebellion, military coups and insurgency. A comprehensive understanding of Mali’s current political challenges necessitates examining its historical evolution, the enduring effects of colonialism, the entrenched divide between the north and south and the chronic governance failures that have perpetuated conflict. Long before the establishment of the modern Malian state, the region was home to some of the most significant empires in African history. The Ghana Empire (circa 700–1200), the Mali Empire (circa 1235–1670) and the Songhai Empire (1464–1591) controlled expansive territories and thrived on trans-Saharan trade, particularly in gold and salt. Cities such as Timbuktu emerged as renowned hubs of Islamic scholarship, commerce and culture (Hunwick 1999; Levtzion and Hopkins 2000). These empires encompassed diverse ethnic communities, including the Mandé, Songhai, Tuareg and others. The Mali Empire, in particular, fostered a tradition of centralised authority while also revealing the complexities of governing a multiethnic and geographically diverse region. With the decline of the Songhai Empire, the area fractured into smaller polities—such as the Bamana and Massina kingdoms—that competed for power and influence.
In the late nineteenth century, French colonial forces expanded into the region, then designated as French Sudan. The colonial administration imposed arbitrary borders that disregarded historical, cultural and ethnic realities. Power was centralised in the southern city of Bamako, while the needs and voices of northern communities—including Tuareg, Berber and Arab populations— were largely ignored. This colonial framework laid the groundwork for future instability, as it fostered stark disparities in development and political representation. The north remained marginalised and underdeveloped, whereas the south became the political and economic core. These imbalances endured after Mali gained independence in 1960, entrenching the divisions that continue to fuel unrest to this day. Following independence, Mali’s first president, Modibo Keïta, established a socialist one-party regime. However, his administration struggled to foster national unity and address deep regional imbalances. In 1962, merely two years after gaining independence, the country faced its first major northern uprising, led by Tuareg communities who felt marginalised by the new government. The First Tuareg Rebellion (1962–1964) was characterised by guerrilla-style attacks on government forces. In response, the Malian military—armed with Soviet equipment and backed by Algeria and Morocco—launched a harsh counterinsurgency campaign. By 1964, the rebellion had been forcibly quelled, and a repressive military administration was imposed over the north. Many Tuareg fled the country, and the region was left with deep-seated grievances. The underlying causes of the conflict—political exclusion, economic neglect and cultural marginalisation—remained unresolved, laying the groundwork for continued instability. Compounding the country’s turmoil, in 1968 a group of young military officers led by Lieutenant Moussa Traoré overthrew Keïta in a coup, ushering in an era of military rule. Though Traoré initially pledged reform, his regime quickly morphed into another one-party state under the Democratic Union of the Malian People (UDPM). Elections were tightly orchestrated, and political dissent was met with brutal repression, most notably during the violent suppression of student protests in 1980. Throughout Traoré’s rule, Mali grappled with significant economic hardships, including severe droughts and a brief border conflict with Burkina Faso in 1985. Despite relative political stability in the 1980s, the regime’s authoritarianism and persistent failure to bridge regional divides fuelled mounting public dissatisfaction (Boilley 1999; Lecocq 2010).
Additionally, growing demands for reform triggered another coup in 1991, orchestrated by Amadou Toumani Touré. His administration oversaw Mali’s inaugural multi-party elections in 1992, marking the start of a more democratic era under President Alpha Oumar Konaré (Center for Strategic and International Studies (CSIS) 2024). Yet, this shift failed to address the nation’s entrenched issues. Although decentralisation initiatives and peace deals with northern factions were attempted, the government made little progress in fostering economic growth or ensuring political representation for the north. Tuareg discontent persisted, fuelling intermittent uprisings. The most severe political upheaval in recent years erupted in 2012 when Tuareg rebels, united under the National Movement for the Liberation of Azawad (MNLA), initiated a large-scale offensive in the north. They were quickly aided by Islamist factions such as Ansar Dine and Al-Qaeda in the Islamic Maghreb (AQIM), which intensified the conflict with advanced weaponry and tactics. The Malian military, underfunded and disheartened, faced repeated losses. Public anger over the government’s ineffective response culminated in a March 2012 coup led by Captain Amadou Sanogo, which toppled President Touré, dissolved the constitution and established the National Committee for the Restoration of Democracy and State (CNRDR). Though the coup initially garnered domestic backing, it faced widespread international criticism. ECOWAS responded with sanctions, insisting on a restoration of civilian governance. Amid the turmoil, rebel forces seized major northern hubs such as Gao and Timbuktu, proclaiming Azawad’s independence. The region rapidly deteriorated into lawlessness, with Islamist militants enforcing brutal Sharia law and perpetrating severe human rights violations. Malian security forces were also implicated in abuses, including unlawful arrests and extrajudicial killings (Oxford Society for International Development (OxSID) 2022). As if the situation weren’t already dire, early 2013 saw France intervene militarily through Operation Serval, responding to Islamist militants pushing southward. The mission, aimed at aiding Malian forces in reclaiming the north, succeeded in expelling militants from key cities. However, the root causes of instability remained unresolved. A new government was formed, and elections were held, yet Mali continued to grapple with jihadist violence, ethnic tensions and persistent political turmoil. The 2015 Algiers Accord, designed to stabilise the northern region, was only partially enacted, leaving widespread insecurity intact. The unrest persisted into the 2020s. In August 2020, after months of public outcry over corruption and the government’s inability to curb extremist violence, President Ibrahim Boubacar Keïta was ousted by a group of young military officers. Colonel Assimi Goïta soon emerged as the central figure in the new military leadership. Under international pressure, the junta appointed a civilian interim president, Bah Ndaw, with Goïta serving as vice president. However, rising tensions between the military and civilian authorities culminated in a second coup in May 2021, with Goïta assuming full power. Despite repeated assurances to restore civilian governance and organise elections, Mali remains under military rule. The country continues to endure relentless jihadist attacks, worsening political instability and mounting economic and social hardships.
What Is JNIM?
This section will examine the evolving dynamics of group formations and alliances within JNIM, exploring their shifting objectives, ideological foundations and sources of funding. It will also shed light on the strategies employed in their operations and the selection of potential targets.
The ‘Shuffle and Reshuffle’ of Groups and Alliances
In the Sahel region, the JNIM alliance was formed through the unification of four Islamist militant groups affiliated with Al-Qaeda: the Macina Liberation Front (MLF), Ansar Dine, al-Mourabitoun and AQIM. This coalition was formally announced in a video released on 2 March 2017, featuring key figures from each group declaring the establishment of JNIM. Among them were Amadou Koufa (MLF leader), AQIM’s Sahel Emir and deputy commanders Djamel Okacha and Abderrahman al-Sanhaji, Iyad Ag Ghali (also known as Abu al-Fadhel), head of Ansar Dine and Muhammad Ould Nouini of al-Mourabitoun, operating under the leadership of Mokhtar Belmokhtar.
This merger held particular significance due to its diverse ethnic and regional makeup, encompassing Arab jihadists from both the Maghreb and the Sahel, alongside Fulani and Tuareg fighters. This diversity projected an image of unity, though in reality, the coalition comprises various factions with distinct agendas, regional loyalties and ideological inspirations. Currently, JNIM is led by Iyad Ag Ghali, the founder of Ansar Dine, with Amadou Koufa and Abu Jalil al-Fulani—who commands the less influential Katiba Serma offshoot of the MLF—playing prominent roles.
Ag Ghali, a member of the influential Ifoghas Tuareg clan from Mali’s Kidal region, previously took part in the Tuareg rebellion of the 1990s. After being denied leadership of the Tuareg separatist group MNLA, he established Ansar Dine in 2011. By 2012, Ag Ghali had aligned Ansar Dine with AQIM and briefly cooperated with MNLA, proclaiming an Islamic state in northern Mali in May of that year. Subsequently, Ansar Dine and AQIM overpowered the Tuareg separatists in key cities such as Kidal and Timbuktu. Throughout 2012, hardline Islamist groups dominated northern Mali before pushing into the more densely populated central regions (Afriyie 2024; Afriyie et al. 2020).
At the request of the Malian government, a joint military operation involving French and African forces—known as Operation Serval—was launched in January 2013. This intervention effectively disrupted militant groups, forcing them to retreat into the remote and difficult terrain of northern Mali. In the aftermath, Iyad Ag Ghali recruited fighters from the disbanded Ansar Dine to establish a political foothold in the region, aligning with various armed factions. Following the dispersal of Ansar Dine, Amadou Koufa began spreading extremist ideology in central Mali. A Fulani native of Niafunké, Koufa is believed to have embraced radical views after encountering Pakistani Dawa missionaries in the 2000s. He exploited longstanding grievances among Fulani herders to gain local support, all while advocating for an Islamic theocracy. By 2015, with the aid of relatives, Koufa had established a strong base in central Mali.
As leader of the FLM, Koufa launched the most lethal insurgency within the JNIM coalition, challenging traditional power structures and seeking to impose Sharia law. Through its association with Ansaroul Islam—a Burkina Faso-based jihadist group founded by Koufa’s follower, Ibrahim Dicko—the FLM extended its reach into northern Burkina Faso. After Dicko’s death in 2017, jihadist activity expanded along the Burkina Faso-Niger border, capitalising on pre-existing criminal networks. Ansaroul Islam eventually merged back with the FLM as the latter advanced southward from Mali into northern and central Burkina Faso.
The FLM found fertile ground in these densely populated areas, benefiting from a broader recruitment base and illicit trade. Analysts estimate that JNIM-linked groups generate $18–35 million annually, primarily through extortion at strategic transit points, artisanal mining and, to a lesser degree, ransom kidnappings (Nellemann et al. 2018). Despite its affiliation with AQIM, JNIM has struggled to gain deep-rooted local support across the Sahel and has seen its influence wane in Algeria, where it initially rose to prominence.
The unclear status of AQIM’s Sahara branch and the al-Mourabitoun faction underscores the symbolic centrality of JNIM in the region. As a coalition, JNIM projects unity and strength, masking the internal challenges each faction faces. Since 2016, the scale and intensity of violence in the Sahel have surged dramatically—largely driven by the FLM. However, its integration into the broader JNIM alliance has helped shield the group from international scrutiny, even as its influence and appeal continue to grow (Eizenga and Williams 2020).
Objectives and Ideology
JNIM’s central objectives are to expel Western forces from the Sahel and establish a global Islamic emirate governed by strict Sharia law. The group has openly declared its opposition to France and its Western allies—especially the United Nations peacekeeping forces deployed in Mali since the beginning of Operation Serval in 2013. JNIM’s ideology mirrors the global Salafi-jihadist doctrine, which frames the world in binary terms: a relentless conflict between the forces of Islam and their adversaries, with one side destined to be defeated. Rooted in this worldview, JNIM claims to be fighting for the unification of Muslim communities across North and West Africa, aiming to overthrow secular governments and replace them with austere Islamist regimes (Afriyie 2024). The integration of various al-Qaeda affiliates into the JNIM coalition aligns with al-Qaeda’s renewed strategic emphasis on ‘solidarity’—a coordinated effort to implement Sharia effectively in areas not fully under jihadist rule.
In a public video statement, JNIM’s leadership pledged to confront Western forces—referred to as ‘crusaders’—through a unified and coordinated jihadist front. Yet, as outlined by leader Iyad Ag Ghali, the group’s operational strategy also involves expanding its territorial influence and training fighters for targeted attacks, while simultaneously fostering positive relations with local populations to sustain grassroots support (Afriyie 2023, 2024).
Recruitment and Sources of Funding
JNIM is estimated to have as many as 6,000 fighters, making it the most heavily armed militant group in the Sahel and one of the most formidable globally. These estimates, while varied due to the group’s secretive nature and limited reliable intelligence, are broadly supported by Western and West African officials as well as independent analysts. Most assessments agree that JNIM’s combat strength numbers in the several thousands, with an upper limit close to 6,000. The group’s recruitment thrives in the governance vacuum of Mali’s northern and central regions and neighbouring areas. It exploits socio-economic vulnerabilities—such as poor governance, economic hardship, ethnic tensions, political instability and public dissatisfaction with corruption and state neglect—to attract new members.
JNIM also sustains and expands its operations through extensive exploitation of natural and illicit resources. A major source of revenue is artisanal gold mining, especially in Mali and Burkina Faso. The group controls numerous informal mining sites, where it collects taxes and protection payments from miners and traders. These sites can collectively yield over 725 kg of gold annually, worth approximately $34 million (Eizenga and Williams 2020). JNIM’s role in artisanal mining goes beyond taxation. It often provides security and maintains de facto control over mining zones, sidelining state authorities. Through this presence, the group embeds itself into local economic structures and functions as a shadow governance body, leveraging gold revenues to fund its military and political agendas (Beevor 2022; Kapetanovic 2025). The extracted gold is frequently funnelled into international black markets, notably in Dubai and Turkey, via unauthorised traders—linking JNIM to global illicit supply chains (Kapetanovic 2025).
In addition to gold, the group profits from other illicit activities such as cattle rustling, where livestock is stolen from uncooperative communities and sold across borders, and illegal timber trade, smuggling valuable species such as ebony and rosewood, often in collaboration with Chinese syndicates (Beevor 2022). Furthermore, JNIM is deeply entrenched in contraband trafficking, including drugs, motorcycles and other smuggled goods. By controlling key transit routes and natural reserves, the group offers smugglers protection in exchange for a share of the profits. This alliance with organised crime bolsters its logistical capabilities and financial endurance (Kapetanovic 2025).
Beyond physical resources, JNIM relies on coercive taxation, imposing zakat (Islamic tax) and protection fees on local populations, merchants and pastoralists—enforced by threats or violence. This system ensures a steady income stream while solidifying the group’s influence in contested areas (Beevor 2022; Eizenga and Williams 2020). Another lucrative tactic is kidnapping for ransom. JNIM routinely abducts Western nationals or obtains hostages from criminal networks, demanding ransoms through intermediaries to bypass international counterterrorism finance laws. In 2020 alone, the group collected £30 million from European hostages. From 2020 to 2023, it was responsible for over 845 kidnappings, often receiving payments via third parties to avoid being directly linked to terrorist financing (CERIS 2021; Sippy 2025).
Targets and Tactics
JNIM directs its attacks against a wide array of targets, particularly government and security forces. The group frequently assaults military and police personnel from Mali, Burkina Faso, Niger and other regional states, employing tactics such as ambushes, suicide bombings and organised raids on military installations. A notable example is the January 2025 assault on a fortified army outpost in Benin’s Pendjari National Park, which resulted in the deaths of at least 28 soldiers—one of the deadliest incidents in the region in recent years. Comparable strikes in Burkina Faso and northern Togo highlight JNIM’s growing influence beyond its traditional Sahel stronghold (Ingale 2025; Thompson 2021).
Additionally, JNIM has attacked French troops and the G5 Sahel joint counterterrorism force. A prominent example is the 2018 suicide car bombing targeting a G5 Sahel base in Sévaré, Mali. The group also frequently targets UN peacekeepers and other international actors assisting regional governments (Beevor 2022; Thompson 2021). Although JNIM does not engage in indiscriminate violence against civilians, it systematically targets individuals and groups it deems collaborators with state forces or rivals. Victims include local militias, community leaders and civilians resisting JNIM’s authority. The MLF, a core JNIM faction, has been particularly active in carrying out such attacks in central Mali and northern Burkina Faso (Eizenga and Williams 2020; Thompson 2021). JNIM’s violence often inflames ethnic and communal conflicts, especially between Fulani herders and other communities. Moreover, the group strikes critical infrastructure—such as roads, bridges and government facilities—to undermine state authority and economic stability, further eroding governmental control (Thompson 2021).
JNIM utilises a versatile and adaptive range of strategies to accomplish its goals. The group often employs hit-and-run assaults and ambushes against military patrols and convoys, capitalising on their familiarity with the terrain and superior mobility to strike swiftly and retreat before facing a stronger counterforce (Eizenga and Williams 2020; Thompson 2021). A defining feature of JNIM’s operations is its use of Improvised Explosive Devices (IEDs), which target both military and, occasionally, civilian vehicles, resulting in heavy casualties and widespread intimidation. Notably, following a 2019 IED attack that killed civilians, the group issued an unusual apology, suggesting selective restraint in targeting non-combatants when it aligns with their strategic goals (Thompson, 2021). Additionally, JNIM has carried out suicide bombings, including vehicle-borne IEDs (SVBIEDs), to breach heavily fortified military positions and inflict mass casualties, underscoring its readiness to employ extreme violence for tactical advantage (Thompson 2021). The group also systematically assassinates local leaders, militia commanders and perceived collaborators, while kidnappings serve dual purposes—instilling terror and generating ransom revenue (National Counterterrorism Center 2022; Thompson 2021). Beyond armed attacks, JNIM enforces strict Islamic governance in territories under its control, mandating dress codes, prohibiting certain activities and implementing Sharia-based judicial systems. This approach not only strengthens its authority but also functions as a recruitment strategy (National Counterterrorism Center 2022; Thompson 2021).
Key Drivers and Structural Factors Behind Mali’s Political Instability
The roots of Mali’s political crisis span social, political, security and economic dimensions. These contributing factors are explored in detail below.
Political Factors
The political sphere plays a vital role in upholding law and order within any societal framework. In the context of Mali, numerous lawmakers, civil society activists and community leaders have consistently advocated for embedding democratic principles—particularly decentralisation—arguing that its absence has left Mali’s democratic foundations precariously unstable. The critical importance of decentralisation, as well as the urgency of reinforcing it, is emphasised by the International Crisis Group, which noted that ‘today’s decentralization constitutes the favor of the government and its allies—not only as a response to the sense of marginalization in the North but also as a means of enhancing governance reform’ (International Crisis Group 2014).
In an effort to reinforce this vision, the États généraux de la décentralisation was convened—a landmark conference that gathered diverse stakeholders to chart long-term solutions to Mali’s governance challenges. The underlying logic for bolstering decentralisation was that expanding the number of communes would increase elected positions, thereby fostering stronger representation, responsiveness and legitimacy in government (Pézard and Shurkin 2015).
Nonetheless, decentralisation has not been without complications. Rather than fostering cohesion, it has sometimes deepened divisions among local actors. As the International Crisis Group observed, many communities have yet to fully embrace the democratic ethos, particularly the principles of electoral competition and the non-zero-sum nature of politics. Further critique came from a local leader, who remarked that decentralisation became dysfunctional due to the absence of real devolution of power. Instead of promoting unity, it exacerbated existing fractures—such as in Kidal, where power struggles emerged between the Kunta and Arab communities. According to Berabiche (2013), ‘Decentralization was defiled because there has been no transfer of competence. Rather, the local divisions were underlined…. The Kuntas wanted their hegemony to be strengthened, while the Arabs wanted their own voice’.
Furthermore, many of the challenges undermining decentralisation in Mali can be traced back to a persistent lack of financial and human resources. These deficiencies have significantly hindered administrative and institutional performance, as emphasised by Lebovich (2017). This clearly illustrates that Mali’s decentralisation efforts have long been supported by fragile systems with limited capacity. Compounding this problem is the one-size-fits-all approach to decentralisation, which failed to account for the unique historical and institutional frameworks of northern Mali. This oversight has continued to impede the effectiveness of local governance (Gutelius 2007).
From a broader governance perspective, David Gutelius highlights how internal community power struggles have further destabilised local political structures. His analysis illustrates how a ‘winner-takes-all’ political culture—where elected leaders enjoy unchecked authority to fill key positions exclusively from their own party—has led to the uncontrolled exploitation of public resources. This dynamic has fostered both intense electoral rivalry and entrenched clan-based competition.
Taken together, these observations depict a decentralisation model riddled with systemic flaws. Addressing these issues demands proactive reforms that align decentralisation with the developmental priorities of the people. Such reforms should aim to strengthen government presence at the grassroots level while mitigating regressive effects such as fragmentation. Equally critical is the restructuring of Mali’s governmental architecture to support a more inclusive and effective governance model.
The prevailing political arrangement, in which the incumbent government exercises near-total control over power and resources, has fostered a deeply polarised environment characterised by an ‘us versus them’ mentality. This concentration of authority has left opposition groups feeling excluded, marginalised and disenfranchised. In response, these groups often engage in strategies aimed at undermining the government’s credibility both within Mali and on the international stage, thereby fuelling tensions that are counterproductive to national unity and development.
To mitigate the damaging effects of the winner-takes-all system, the reform process must begin with constitutional changes, underpinned by a sincere political commitment to inclusivity. These reforms should mandate the integration of members from diverse political parties into government roles. Such an approach would not only ease political friction and foster a more stable environment for governance but also enable the country to fully leverage the skills and talents of its citizens, irrespective of their political or social affiliations.
Economic
One of the key drivers of Mali’s recurring political instability lies in deep-rooted economic issues. The country’s worsening economic conditions have exacerbated widespread inequalities, further dividing its population. This has led to a stark developmental gap between the north and south, fostering feelings of marginalisation—especially among the Tuareg people, who primarily inhabit Mali’s impoverished northern regions. Due to persistent poverty and underdevelopment in the north, the Tuareg have long suffered from insufficient government investment in their area.
Although Mali’s economy relies heavily on tourism, agriculture remains a critical sector, accounting for 43% of GDP. However, the Tuareg, who are mostly resource-poor farmers, blame their economic struggles on the government’s failure to prioritise agricultural investment. This sentiment has grown stronger as tourism revenues have declined, leading to prolonged job losses (Chauzal and Van Damme, 2015). The Tuareg’s frustration is evident in an Al Jazeera interview, where one individual lamented: ‘We can’t support our families because the government isn’t investing enough in agriculture’. Another Tuareg echoed these grievances, stating: ‘We rely on imported food while our own farms produce enough—yet we can’t sell because of government policies’.
The economic foundations of northern and southern Mali stand in stark opposition. The northern regions, largely populated by the Tuareg, are primarily dependent on agriculture, while the southern areas thrive on the export of non-traditional commodities such as gold and cotton. Further complicating the already sensitive dynamics surrounding Tuareg identity and Mali’s broader instability is the government’s ban on tourism—a policy that has significantly undermined the northern economy and the livelihoods of its people. In response to these growing economic frustrations, some Tuareg groups have aligned with anti-state actors, at times resorting to violence and encouraging recruitment into insurgent factions (Davis 2018).
Collectively, these factors have cast a deepening shadow over Mali’s stability, which reached a more acute and visible crisis point in August 2020. Persistent shortages in essential public services—such as roads, electricity, healthcare and water—combined with mounting labour unrest and demands for improved working conditions, have starkly exposed Mali’s fragile economic state. These developments point to a mounting sense of instability, suggesting the nation is burdened by an increasingly unsustainable socio-economic weight (The North Africa Journal 2020).
The World Bank underscores the severity of Mali’s economic crisis, reporting that over 40% of the nation’s 20 million citizens live in extreme poverty (Al Jazeera 2020). This dire situation fuelled widespread frustration, which erupted into mass protests beginning in June, as thousands of Malians took to the streets demanding the resignation of President Keïta’s administration. His government was widely viewed as ineffective and lacking a clear vision for the country’s future. Youth unemployment, in particular, became a glaring issue, affecting nearly one-third of the population. Under Keïta’s leadership, it had soared to nearly 15%, more than double the 7% rate when he assumed office eight years earlier. Similarly, the national poverty rate rose from 45% in 2013 to nearly 50% by 2020. In 2019 alone, more Malians were displaced by conflict than at any other point in the country’s history. Simultaneously, the country’s healthcare system deteriorated further, and the looming threat of economic hardship continued to plunge millions into despair (Obaji 2020).
Amid rising political tensions, opposition politicians, civil society actors, religious leaders and segments of the security apparatus united under the June 5 Movement (M5-RFP). Their goal was to express collective outrage at the government’s poor handling of the COVID-19 crisis, surging unemployment, growing inequality and the relentless violence in Northern and Central Mali, perpetuated by extremist groups linked to Al-Qaeda and the Islamic State.
Social
A range of social dynamics have played a pivotal role in shaping the conditions that fuel political instability in Mali. A widely circulated narrative centres on entrenched corruption within the government—a perception that has continually provoked populist sentiments since the onset of democratic reforms in the 1990s. Although public expectations regarding the outcomes of this democratic experiment have varied, disillusionment grew markedly during the presidency of Amadou Toumani Touré, as many came to view democracy as a mere façade. Feelings of marginalisation were compounded by a governance system seen as indifferent and ineffective in providing essential services and public goods. Additionally, allegations of state capture further deepened public frustration, with powerful elites closely aligned with the ruling government believed to be manipulating state institutions to serve their own interests at the expense of the citizenry (Davis 2018).
For example, prior to this period, media outlets reported extensively on the close relationship between President Keïta and Corsican businessman Michel Tomi, who was later prosecuted in France for corruption and money laundering (Shipley 2017). Incidents of high-level corruption and the misappropriation of public resources escalated to a point of near impunity, ultimately eroding the integrity of key institutions, including the National Army (New York Times 2013). A report from the Bureau du Vérificateur Général and the Auditor General’s Office estimated that corruption, financial mismanagement and lack of transparency accounted for an annual loss of 4%–5% of the national budget. Similarly, an audit conducted in the 2013–2014 fiscal year uncovered fraudulent activities and mismanagement that led to the disappearance of 150 billion Communauté Financière Africaine (CFA) francs (EUR 243 million), severely straining relations between Mali and its international development partners. In 2014, controversies surrounding the irregular procurement of a presidential jet further aggravated tensions with the International Monetary Fund (IMF 2015).
Additional cases emerged involving senior officials implicated in misconduct. In 2016, the US State Department disclosed that Mali’s anti-corruption agency, l’Office Central de Lutte Contre l’Enrichissement Illicite (OCLEI), had initiated a new investigation into the mismanagement of a $2.4 million pension fund (United States Department 2016). Although the fund’s chairman was initially imprisoned, his subsequent release only reinforced widespread public suspicion regarding President Keïta’s alleged complicity in systemic corruption.
Another significant issue was the prevalence of nepotism and cronyism under President Keïta’s administration. Media outlets frequently highlighted his pattern of appointing close family members and allies to influential governmental roles. Among the most controversial was the appointment of his son, Karim Keïta, as Chairman of the National Assembly’s Defense Committee in 2014—a move widely criticised as emblematic of favouritism. Similarly, his father-in-law, Issaka Sidibé, was appointed President of the National Assembly. Another notable case was Moustapha Ben Barka—formerly Minister of Investment Promotion and later Deputy Secretary to the Presidency—who was reportedly married into Keïta’s family, making his elevation a textbook example of nepotism (Shipley 2017).
The extent of corruption was further illustrated by the 2016 World Bank Enterprise Survey, which revealed that 43.9% of 185 companies surveyed in Mali believed that offering gifts to officials was necessary to facilitate business operations. Additionally, 33.7% of firms reported experiencing at least one instance of bribery—well above the Sub-Saharan Africa average of 22.2%. A staggering 70.6% of businesses identified corruption as a major obstacle to enterprise. Complementing these findings, an Afrobarometer (2017) report found that nearly half (49.5%) of 1,200 respondents perceived government officials as corrupt. These patterns of favouritism, systemic corruption and public discontent culminated in a widespread loss of confidence, ultimately contributing to President Keïta’s overthrow in August 2020.
Security
Analysing Mali’s political crisis without adequately addressing the underlying security challenges risks producing a partial and superficial narrative. Indeed, the persistent surge in radical anti-state movements has been a central axis of the country’s instability since its independence in 1960. One of the earliest manifestations was the 1963 Tuareg uprising, driven by dissatisfaction with political marginalisation. This was followed by another major rebellion between 1990 and 1996. At the outset of this conflict, the formation of a unified identity under the banner of the ‘Azawad Liberation Movement’ (MPLA) enabled the group to consolidate power, laying the groundwork for a renewed insurrection in 2006.
By then, although the Tuareg resistance had fragmented into various factions—including the Popular Liberation Front of Azawad (FPLA), the Revolutionary Liberation Army of Azawad (ARLA), the Azawad Arab Islamic Front (FIAA) and the Popular Movement of Azawad (MPA)—their collective threat remained significant. Internal divisions deepened, and by May 2006, a schism between the MPA and ARLA resulted in the creation of the Alliance for Democratic Change. Since then, Mali’s political landscape has seen the emergence of extremist groups such as Ansar Dine, Al-Qaeda, al-Mourabitoun, the MLF and the Movement for Oneness and Jihad in West Africa (MUJAO) (Béré 2017).
The proliferation of these insurgent organisations is tightly linked to the nation’s persistent instability, notably during the crises of 2012 and more recently in 2020 (Klute and Lecocq 2013). Although these factions differ in ideology and tactics, they are united by a shared grievance: deep-rooted discontent over the stark sociopolitical and economic disparities between northern and southern Mali (Klute and Lecocq 2013). Unless deliberate and inclusive efforts are made to address these imbalances, the recurrence of violent upheavals will likely continue to define Mali’s political reality. Given that perceptions of state incapacity to curb insurgency contributed significantly to the August 2020 coup, it is essential for the government to adopt decisive and coordinated strategies to confront the nation’s security challenges directly.
Conclusion
The steady rise of JNIM in Mali underscores the deep-rooted governance, security and development failures that have plagued the country for decades. Longstanding issues such as marginalisation, corruption, political turmoil and fragile state institutions have created a vacuum that JNIM has skilfully exploited, particularly in the northern and central regions. By offering services, mediating disputes, maintaining order and functioning as an alternative authority in areas where the state is either absent or predatory, the group has firmly embedded itself within local communities. JNIM’s entanglement in illicit activities—including gold mining, smuggling and kidnapping for ransom—has bolstered its financial resilience and woven it into regional economic and social fabrics. Its recruitment thrives on ethnic tensions, economic deprivation and the erosion of state legitimacy, further entrenching its influence throughout the Sahel.
The crisis in Mali goes beyond mere insecurity; it reflects a profound breakdown in the social contract between the state and its citizens. While military efforts and counterterrorism operations may offer temporary relief, they fail to tackle the underlying structural and political factors that sustain JNIM’s power. Lasting progress demands a comprehensive strategy centred on governance reform, inclusive development and community empowerment—recognising that stability depends on the integrated pursuit of security, effective governance and sustainable development.
Recommendations
Restore Governance Legitimacy Through Local Empowerment
The Malian government should prioritise genuine decentralisation that not only delegates administrative duties but also allocates sufficient resources and decision-making power to local authorities. Strengthening the role of community leaders, traditional institutions and civil society will enhance accountability, promote grassroots ownership and build resilience against extremist infiltration.
Promote Inclusive Development to Combat Inequality and Marginalisation
Focusing development efforts on historically underserved areas—particularly those inhabited by Fulani and Tuareg communities—is critical. Both national and international stakeholders must invest in education, healthcare, infrastructure and agriculture to foster economic opportunity and reduce the underlying socio-economic conditions that contribute to radicalisation.
Reform and Professionalise the Security Sector
Transforming Mali’s security forces into a disciplined, rights-respecting and community-oriented institution is essential. Building trust with local populations requires robust accountability systems, comprehensive training and transparent oversight to curb corruption and prevent abuses that extremists exploit to gain support.
Disrupt JNIM’s Financial Infrastructure
A coordinated national and regional strategy is needed to dismantle JNIM’s funding mechanisms. This involves formalising and protecting artisanal mining, tightening border controls, regulating trade corridors and enhancing financial intelligence capabilities to intercept revenue from kidnappings, smuggling and illicit commerce.
Footnotes
Declaration of Conflicting Interests
The author declared no potential conflicts of interest with respect to the research, authorship and/or publication of this article.
Funding
The author received no financial support for the research, authorship and/or publication of this article.
