On April 20, 2026, General Évariste Ndayishimiye embarked on an official “friendship and working” visit to Ouagadougou. At the time, the Burundian head of state held the rotating chairmanship of the African Union (AU).
This diplomatic endeavor aimed to re-establish dialogue between the continental organization and the Alliance of Sahel States (AES). This alliance, comprising Burkina Faso, Mali, and Niger, is currently led by Captain Ibrahim Traoré.
The initiative unfolded against a backdrop where AES member states had withdrawn from AU bodies. In this context, the Burundian president visited Burkina Faso, a nation governed by a military coup regime, to commend its efforts in restoring security and stability. Interestingly, the country’s leader has publicly stated that democracy is no longer relevant for the nation. This visit, reported in Ouagadougou news, highlighted a complex diplomatic landscape.
Beyond the diplomatic rhetoric of “dialogue” and “stability,” one might discern a form of solidarity emerging among authoritarian regimes that share a common disregard for constitutional limitations.
My doctoral research explores international sanctions, specifically those imposed by the European Union and regional organizations, and the resilience of authoritarian rule in fragile states. This comparative study primarily focuses on Burundi, dedicating a chapter to other sanctioned nations, including Mali and Niger. Here, I analyze the political resources that Mali and Burundi leverage to withstand external pressures.
A shared path to power
Indeed, a convergence of institutional trajectories links Burundi with the states of the AES. Mali, Burkina Faso, and Niger each faced sanctions from the Economic Community of West African States (ECOWAS) and the European Union (EU) following military coups: Mali in 2020 and 2021, Burkina Faso in 2022, and Niger in 2023. This has been a recurring theme in Faso news today.
Burundi itself was sanctioned by the EU and the United States in 2016, a direct response to President Pierre Nkurunziza’s decision to seek a third term, widely deemed unconstitutional. Certain political phenomena necessitate a trans-regional comparative approach, not merely to identify superficial resemblances, but to uncover deep, convergent underlying logics.
The rapprochement between Burundi and Mali, for instance—two countries separated by thousands of kilometers and operating in distinct geopolitical environments—exemplifies this analytical approach.
The strategic creation of an enemy
In both cases, the designation of an enemy, whether internal or external, serves as a crucial mechanism for legitimacy and a powerful driver of internal cohesion. This strategy allows for the constant reactivation of a perceived threat, adapting to political circumstances—be it a colonial adversary, a regional rival, or a diffuse security challenge.
In Mali, this mechanism intensified significantly in early 2022. Fueled by a “rally ’round the flag” effect, where the populace unites behind leaders in the face of a real or perceived external threat, the Malian government saw its authority strengthen.
With a civilian component now bolstering the military leadership in the second phase of the transition following the May 2021 coup, the armed forces garnered widespread popular support.
Tens of thousands of demonstrators converged on Boulevard de l’Indépendance on January 14, 2022, to denounce economic and diplomatic sanctions imposed by ECOWAS. They chanted their hostility towards Paris and the regional organization, accusing them of interfering in Mali’s internal affairs. Their demands emphasized a Mali solely for its citizens, free from foreign influences.
In Burundi, it is Belgium that crystallizes the anger of supporters of the National Council for the Defense of Democracy – Forces for the Defense of Democracy (CNDD-FDD), the ruling party. Accused of historically fostering ethnic divisions within the country, the former colonial power is also implicated in alleged complicity with Rwanda in attempts to destabilize the current regime.
The Burundian government, led by the CNDD-FDD, portrays Brussels as the instigator of economic sanctions imposed by the EU. This rhetoric allows both regimes to redirect international criticism towards a narrative of resistance against former colonizers.
Identifying a regional adversary
At the regional level, each regime carefully selects an adversary. In Mali, Algeria is accused of harboring opposition figures such as Imam Mahmoud Dicko and of colluding with terrorist groups active within the country. The Malian junta announced the “immediate termination” of the Algiers peace agreement on January 25, 2024.
Mali also closed its airspace to Algeria, following a similar measure taken by Algeria in April 2025. In Burundi, however, Paul Kagame’s Tutsi regime in Rwanda occupies this adversarial role.
Labeled a “bad neighbor” by President Ndayishimiye, Kigali stands accused of sheltering the putschists involved in the 2015 coup attempt. Rwandan authorities are also presented by Burundian officials as supporters of rebel movements like RED-Tabara, sometimes linked to other armed groups in the region.
This defensive posture manifested in the closure of land borders with Rwanda in January 2024, alongside active military intervention in eastern Democratic Republic of Congo (DRC) between August 2022 and December 2025. This intervention aimed to support the Armed Forces of the Democratic Republic of Congo (FARDC), alongside the Wazalendo militias and the Democratic Forces for the Liberation of Rwanda (FDLR), against the M23 movement, which is reportedly backed by Kigali.
These symbolic resources are strategically mobilized to sustain a perpetual sense of siege—a necessary condition for the political survival of regimes that have transformed external threats into their primary fuel.
The security paradox
A security contradiction, however, operates between the two nations. In Mali, the threat appears more immediate through attacks perpetrated by the FLA and JNIM on April 25, 2026. These ongoing attacks significantly bolster the credibility of the regime’s security discourse.
This divergence in the nature of the threat gives rise to distinct legitimization strategies.
The head of the junta in Mali, Assimi Goïta, has effectively sidestepped electoral constraints. In July 2025, the National Transition Council granted him a renewable five-year mandate without requiring elections and with no term limits, finalizing a drift that began with earlier postponements of the vote initially promised for March 2024.
The junta no longer needs to legitimize itself through a vote; instead, it positions itself as the sole bulwark capable of defeating JNIM and FLA. This narrative persists even as the Malian economy, despite its resilience, remains vulnerable to recurrent electricity shortages and the gradual reduction of development and humanitarian aid.
In Burundi, the CNDD-FDD has designated the incumbent president as its candidate for the 2027 presidential election. Even a closely controlled election remains a mandatory step.
The security record highlighted by Gitega, therefore, does not aim to replace an election; rather, it seeks to prepare for it. In this context, prioritizing security allows the government to relegate to the background an economic performance marked by persistent fuel and currency shortages that have affected the country since 2015.
Considering both nations are among the world’s poorest—Burundi ranked last in 2023—does the constant externalization of responsibility through the perpetual construction of an enemy also mask internal predatory dynamics that characterize authoritarian regimes, as analyzed by French political scientist Jean-François Bayart?
Ultimately, the comparison between Mali and Burundi reveals less about the singularity of each trajectory and more about the robustness of a common logic among regimes that have transformed their enemies not into a burden, but into their very foundation for survival.
