Washington Returns to the Sahel Through the Back Door

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Bamako, late January. Nick Checker, head of the African Affairs Bureau at the U.S. State Department, lands in a capital that has not seen a Western diplomat of this rank for three years. His message is simple: Washington "respects the sovereignty of Mali" and wants to turn the page on "past political mistakes." No mention of democracy, human rights, or an electoral timeline. Just an offer of cooperation on "shared security and economic interests" — with Mali, but also Burkina Faso and Niger.

This is not a courtesy visit. It is the announcement of a major strategic shift by the Trump administration, which abandons the democratic conditionality of the Biden era for transactional pragmatism. The three juntas of central Sahel, excluded from U.S. military cooperation after their coups between 2020 and 2023, are becoming partners again. Washington offers them intelligence, potentially weapons, and above all, a legitimacy that the West had previously denied them.

The irony is cruel for Paris. For a decade, France has been accused by these same military regimes of "neocolonialism," interference, and contempt for African sovereignty. Barkhane was expelled from Mali in 2022, from Burkina in 2023, and from Niger in 2024 — not because the operation was militarily ineffective, but because it embodied a politically unacceptable relationship for the new Sahelian elites. And now Washington, which has never ceased to criticize the French approach, adopts exactly the same model: supporting authoritarian regimes in the name of the fight against terrorism.

But there is a significant difference. The United States will not deploy ground troops — Trump promised this to his electoral base, weary of "endless wars." No new drone base in Agadez (which Niger closed in 2024 after expelling 800 U.S. soldiers). No armored convoys on the RN6 between Gao and Ménaka. Just intelligence, occasional advisors, perhaps arms deliveries. A light, discreet presence, without the political burden of a visible occupation.

This American return is explained by three strategic calculations. The first is the jihadist threat itself. Groups affiliated with the Islamic State — particularly the EIGS in the tri-border area — now control territories equivalent to half of France. According to some estimates, the Sahel now accounts for 50% of terrorism-related deaths worldwide. Washington fears that a total state collapse in this region could create lasting sanctuaries, like pre-2001 Afghanistan.

The second calculation is economic. The Sahel produces gold, lithium (Mali), and uranium (Niger). Niger recently nationalized its main uranium mine, previously operated by the French company Orano, and is negotiating with Moscow. Trump, obsessed with supply chains for strategic minerals, does not want to let Russia monopolize access to these resources.

The third calculation — and this is the most concerning — is competition with Moscow. About 1,000 Russian contractors are deployed in Mali (Africa Corps, successor to Wagner), with more modest contingents in Burkina and Niger. Unlike the European Union, the Trump administration does not view this Russian presence as a threat to regional stability. Massad Boulos, Trump’s senior advisor for Africa, made it clear to *Le Monde* last year: "Democracy is always appreciated, but our policy is not to interfere in the internal affairs of other countries."

Washington simply wants to prevent Moscow from becoming the sole external partner of the juntas. Not out of concern for human rights violations — Russian contractors have been involved in multiple abuses in Mali — but out of geopolitical realism. If the United States is not in the room, they have no influence over the decisions made around the table.

This pragmatism has its limits. From experience, I know that intelligence and targeted strikes can produce quick tactical victories. But they do not address the root causes of insecurity: the collapse of state authority in rural areas, intercommunal tensions exploited by armed groups, and structural poverty that makes jihadist recruitment an economically rational option for youth with no future.

Barkhane killed thousands of jihadist fighters between 2014 and 2022. This did not prevent the territorial expansion of armed groups — quite the opposite. The French operation had 5,000 soldiers, Tiger helicopters, Reaper drones, and satellite intelligence. If this firepower was not enough, why would a few American advisors and arms deliveries do any better?

The answer, of course, is that they probably will not do better. But Washington is not trying to "win" in the Sahel. It is trying to limit the damage, maintain a minimum of influence, and above all, not leave the field entirely open to Moscow. It is a low-cost containment strategy — an insurance policy against the worst-case scenario, without the political and military investment that France has made over the past ten years.

For the Sahelian juntas, this American turnaround is a windfall. They gain partial international recognition, intelligence capabilities that Moscow cannot provide at the same level, and the opportunity to play Washington against Moscow to maximize their maneuvering room. Captain Ibrahim Traoré, leader of Burkina and a rising figure in anti-Western pan-Africanism, has built his popularity on rejecting "French imperialism." He can now welcome the Americans from a position of strength, without having to abandon his sovereignist rhetoric.

What is certain is that this American normalization further weakens the Economic Community of West African States (ECOWAS). Mali, Burkina, and Niger left the organization last year after it attempted to pressure them into organizing elections. They are now building their own confederation, the Alliance of Sahel States (AES), with a joint force of 5,000 men announced in January.

If Washington implicitly recognizes the legitimacy of these military regimes, why would the coastal states — Benin, Togo, Ghana, Côte d'Ivoire — continue to isolate them? These countries themselves face infiltration by jihadist groups coming from the north. They need operational cooperation with Bamako, Ouagadougou, and Niamey, not moral posturing on democracy. The American shift gives them tacit permission to restore practical ties, without the diplomatic embarrassment of being the first to do so.

But the risk is real. By abandoning any democratic conditionality, Washington also relinquishes any leverage to moderate the behavior of these regimes. President Mohamed Bazoum, overthrown in Niger in July 2023, is still detained at his presidential residence. Purges in the Burkinabé army continue. Abuses against civilians suspected of complicity with jihadists are multiplying, committed by both government forces and Russian contractors.

By settling for a narrow security approach, the United States is repeating the mistake it has already made in Afghanistan, Yemen, and Somalia: believing that stability can be bought with intelligence and airstrikes, without addressing governance. We know the result.

What worries me most, on the ground, is the increasing fragmentation of the regional security architecture. Before 2020, the counter-terrorism effort in the Sahel relied on a loose but functional coordination between regional actors (G5 Sahel, Multinational Joint Task Force) and external partners (France, the United States, the European Union). Today, on one side is the AES with its Russian advisors, on the other are the coastal states with fragmented Western support, and in between are gray areas where no one truly controls the territory.

This balkanization favors armed groups. They exploit command discontinuities, jurisdictional voids, and rivalries between competing forces. As long as Bamako refuses to coordinate its operations with Abidjan or Accra — out of sovereign pride or political calculation — jihadists will always have escape corridors.

The American return does not change this reality. It simply adds one more actor to an already crowded game, without solving the fundamental problem: the absence of a coherent regional strategy, accepted by all parties, based on something other than military force alone. As long as we do not have that, we will continue to chase symptoms without treating the disease.
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