Since the spectacular attack of April 25 in Mali, which targeted multiple cities simultaneously, the question of Azawad has taken a new turn. The military regime sees one of its main pillars of legitimation crumbling in the eyes of its supporters, while the political horizon darkens further. The death, during the attack on Bamako, of Defense Minister Sadio Camara has precipitated the Transition into a point of no return, already weakened by internal tensions and the growing pressure of non-state armed groups (NSAGs).
Considered the number two of the regime and above all the main ideologue and architect of the Alliance of Sahel States (AES), Sadio Camara embodied ideological choices that have largely contributed to isolating the central Sahel and plunging the three member countries (Mali, Niger, and Burkina Faso) into an impasse that is both existential and geopolitical. His passing reshapes the board: the priority is now to limit the damage and attempt a return to realistic governance, centered on the interests of the populations before any other consideration. The populism that has prevailed since the advent of these military regimes has deeply disoriented citizens, many of whom can no longer follow hazardous choices whose limits are now coming to light.
This disorientation found a ready outlet on social networks, where the bravado of a few figures claiming to champion pan-Africanism has flourished, with the complacency of certain media outlets in search of an ideological positioning. The Sahelian juntas thought they had found thought leaders in them; today, they are discovering opportunistic charlatans at the service of interests foreign to the region, and even to the entire continent. These influencers have fed on the fragilities of the military regimes and on a climate of paranoia that they themselves helped maintain—a climate that has long stifled the constructive dimensions likely to give greater credibility to their political project for the sub-region.
Beyond this ideological drift, it is on the ground that the record is most damning. The current military regime bears responsibility for ethnic pogroms, and the generals in power must answer for abominable crimes committed on community bases. The modus operandi of the armies during the abuses perpetrated against Tuareg, Peul, and Arab civilians corresponds in every respect to the generally accepted definition of terrorism. The political and military leaders responsible for these abuses belong more properly before the International Criminal Court than at the head of their states.
Denouncing the suicidal and irresponsible policy of the current authorities does not mean attacking Mali; quite the contrary. The Malian state and its institutions are held hostage by a self-centered system whose policy threatens to complete the dislocation of the national project. The diversion consisting of focusing attention on Kidal and on pastoral communities globally lumped together with terrorism cannot serve as a political project. Those who rush into this reading grid contribute to the chaos and the decomposition of the still embryonic fabric of a “one and indivisible” Mali that they claim to defend elsewhere.
The principle must nevertheless be simple: a national army that attacks a part of its population on ethnic grounds de facto becomes a militia in the service of particular interests, and cannot claim any monopoly on legitimate violence. As soon as it departs from its regalian mission of protecting citizens and territory, it loses all legitimacy in the eyes of the international community. This drift finds its extension in a Malian diplomacy marked by radical rhetoric, strangely out of step with the posture that realpolitik would have dictated, given the country’s geography, its history, and above all, an objective assessment of its capabilities in the face of regional and international geopolitical realities.
So that the issue of state injustice and violence does not remain the sole manifestation of poor governance driven by a power-hungry elite devoid of vision for the future of these countries, it is essential that solidarity between communities finds expression outside the circles associated with the regime in place. Yet, some have deemed it relevant to qualify Azawad as a “fabrication,” implying that Mali itself is not one. This liberty with intellectual honesty speaks volumes about the bias of certain “specialists,” whose posture and legitimacy truly raise questions.
Others, in the same vein, continue to relay the argument of the Malian military power that France was wrong not to accompany the Malian army to Kidal during the reconquest of Azawad during Operation Serval. These specialists seem to forget or ignore how the Malian army has behaved since the 1990s in the Kidal region and in Azawad in general. Why do they not speak of the thousands of civilians massacred by this same army in Léré, Gossi, and elsewhere? What sovereign and legitimate state are we talking about when it regularly massacres civilians and conducts operations frequently described as ethnic cleansing? Overtly concealing this aspect of the situation, out of conformity or opportunism, considerably weakens analyses that might otherwise prove relevant.
Abdoulahi ATTAYOUB
Consultant
Lyon (France)
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