Across the vast, sun-baked expanses of the Sahel, where conflicts unfold far from European eyes, Mali is now grappling with the harsh repercussions of its decision to dismiss those who previously stood firm against encroaching instability.
The surge in attacks currently plaguing the nation is not accidental but a direct and foreseeable outcome of a pronounced political shift, framed as an assertion of national sovereignty. This proclaimed sovereignty, heavily amplified by a narrative critical of France, served as a tool for internal validation.
Bamako sought the departure of French forces, and its objective was met.
The final French convoys departed from Gao, Tessalit, and Ménaka amidst public derision, fueled by years of accusatory discourse. At the time, operational realities seemed to hold little weight. It was seemingly forgotten that in 2013, when jihadist columns threatened to advance southward, it was French intervention that averted the imminent collapse of the Malian state.
President Emmanuel Macron, with stark clarity, remarked, “Mali did not make the best decision in expelling the French army.” A simple, almost detached statement, yet one that now resonates with profound strategic truth.
While the French president has never denied past missteps by France, acknowledging that Paris sometimes overemphasized military solutions without adequately fostering essential local political reforms, his stance remains consistent on one crucial point: without French involvement, Mali could have descended into chaos. He previously asserted unequivocally, “Without France, Mali would no longer be a unified state.”
This stark reality appears to be resurfacing with brutal force today.
The ground reality, however, is impervious to slogans or posturing. Once French bases were vacated, the security void became starkly apparent. Groups aligned with Al-Qaida and Islamic State wasted no time exploiting these new vulnerabilities. Where Operation Barkhane previously contained, monitored, engaged, and gathered intelligence, Malian authorities now struggle to maintain lasting control over their territory.
Behind this unfolding situation lies a poignant memory that demands respect.
Fifty-eight French soldiers perished in the Sahel.
These fifty-eight individuals fell in a conflict that was neither abstract nor theoretical. They died in Kidal, in the Adrar des Ifoghas, in In Delimane, on roads riddled with mines, during nocturnal operations, under scorching temperatures, confronting an elusive, mobile adversary.
These soldiers were not invaders; they were not colonial predators disguised in a militant narrative. They were the instruments of a military commitment undertaken by the Republic to prevent the establishment of a terrorist sanctuary at the heart of the Sahel.
They paid the ultimate price.
Their sacrifice mandates, at the very least, that their memory not be diluted by ideological simplifications.
Indeed, France made errors. Yet, for years, it also shouldered, almost single-handedly, an immense military endeavor to preserve an already fragile regional stability.
Mali opted to dismantle this security framework in the name of declared independence. It is now confronting the ramifications of that choice.
President Emmanuel Macron, in stating that Bamako did not make “the best decision,” was not expressing post-colonial resentment or sentimental regret. He was merely observing what reality brutally confirms: in certain parts of the world, proclaimed sovereignty alone is insufficient to halt advancing jihadist forces.
The Sahel proved to be a theatre of diplomatic attrition for France.
But for the French soldiers, it remains something more profound: a field of honor.
And that honor is not subject to the shifting winds of public opinion.
