By Ipole Amajana
Terrorism in the Sahel is not simply a matter of ideology or religious extremism; it is deeply embedded in economics. Groups such as Jama’at Nasr al‑Islam wal Muslimin (JNIM) and the Islamic State in the Greater Sahara (ISGS) have built self‑financing criminal economies that make them resilient, adaptable, and difficult to defeat. These insurgents thrive on illicit trade networks that predate their rise, exploiting porous borders and weak state institutions.
Insurgents impose levies on local populations, traders, and pastoralists. In many rural areas, they collect “zakat” or protection fees, mimicking state functions while simultaneously undermining them.
The Sahel’s geography makes it a hub for smuggling routes. Armed groups profit from trafficking drugs, arms, and migrants across Mali, Niger, and Burkina Faso.
Besides smuggling routes, illicit mineral mining is another factor. Gold mining in Burkina Faso and Mali has become a lucrative source of funding. Insurgents either directly control mines or extort miners, creating parallel economies outside state oversight. This is not limited to the Sahel, as evidence suggests that the thriving banditry in Nigeria’s North West is fueled by illegal mining in states like Zamfara, Kebbi and even Sokoto.
This economic base allows insurgents to withstand military pressure. Even when leaders are killed or camps destroyed, the financial networks remain intact, enabling rapid regrouping. The resilience of these economies explains why counterterrorism campaigns often achieve tactical victories but fail to deliver strategic defeat.
The grave situation has been compounded by the excision of the so-called Alliance of Sahel States (AES)—comprising Mali, Burkina Faso, and Niger— from the regional bloc, ECOWAS. Since they emerged as a bloc of military governments promising to restore sovereignty and resist foreign interference, their political foundations have exposed their inherent fragility and the irony of relying on Moscow. Military juntas often justify postponing elections on security grounds, arguing that stability must precede democracy. But how long can this narrative hold?
As time moves on, these juntas erode their legitimacy daily, as initially the coups were welcomed by populations frustrated with civilian governments’ failures. The populace of these countries is now realising it was a case of the kettle and the pot, as repeated election delays show. It is no longer a matter of doubt that the citizens now see the military rulers as self‑interested actors clinging to power.
What the elections throw up is a security paradox. By citing insecurity as a reason to delay elections, juntas inadvertently highlight their own inability to deliver stability. Each terrorist attack becomes a reminder of their shortcomings.
At the moment, the AES juntas are facing international isolation, as sanctions and strained relations with ECOWAS and Western partners limit economic growth, further weakening the regimes. While partnerships with Russia’s African Corps provide short‑term military support, they do not resolve governance deficits.
The longer elections are postponed, the more politically vulnerable these juntas become. Their survival depends not only on military strength but also on their ability to maintain public trust—a resource that is steadily declining as violence persists.
The big question remains: Why does JNIM always seem one step ahead?
Despite the presence of foreign partners, including Russia’s African Corps, JNIM consistently demonstrates tactical superiority. Several factors explain this phenomenon:
Local intelligence networks: JNIM embeds itself within communities, leveraging kinship ties and grievances. This grassroots intelligence allows them to anticipate military movements and strike at opportune moments.
Mobility and adaptability: Unlike conventional armies, JNIM fighters move fluidly across borders, exploiting terrain and avoiding static defence lines. Their decentralised command structure makes them harder to target.
Psychological warfare: By attacking symbolic targets—such as military convoys or government officials—JNIM amplifies perceptions of state weakness. Even small-scale attacks can have outsized political impact.
Exploiting foreign presence: The arrival of Russia’s African Corps has not deterred JNIM; instead, insurgents use propaganda to frame foreign soldiers as occupiers, rallying local resentment and bolstering recruitment.
JNIM’s ability to remain “one step ahead” reflects not only military skill but also political acumen. They understand that insurgency is as much about perception as it is about firepower.
Is the Sahel becoming Africa’s Afghanistan?
The parallels between the Sahel and Afghanistan are striking. Both regions illustrate how insurgents can govern territory, how states lose control of the countryside, and how foreign interventions struggle to build lasting stability.
In many Sahelian villages, insurgents provide dispute resolution, enforce contracts, and regulate markets. This shadow governance fills the vacuum left by absent states, creating a paradox where insurgents are both feared and relied upon.
Governments in Bamako, Ouagadougou, and Niamey retain authority in capitals but have ceded vast rural areas. Military patrols may temporarily reclaim territory, but without sustained governance, control quickly evaporates.
Counterinsurgency campaigns often tout battlefield successes. Yet these victories rarely translate into durable political authority. Once troops withdraw, insurgents return, underscoring the futility of purely military solutions.
Foreign partners’ struggle: International actors—from France’s Operation Barkhane to Russia’s African Corps—have invested heavily in the Sahel. Yet external forces cannot substitute for local governance. Without legitimate institutions, foreign military support risks becoming another layer of dependency.
The comparison to Afghanistan is not rhetorical hyperbole; it is a warning. Just as the Taliban outlasted international coalitions, Sahelian insurgents may endure unless governance, development, and legitimacy are prioritised alongside military action.
The Sahel’s crisis is multidimensional. Terrorist groups sustain themselves through illicit economies, making them resilient against conventional military campaigns. Military juntas in the AES face declining legitimacy as they postpone elections under the guise of insecurity.
JNIM’s tactical agility ensures they remain a formidable adversary, even against foreign forces. And the broader trajectory increasingly resembles Afghanistan, where insurgents govern territory while states lose rural control.
The path forward requires more than guns and foreign troops. It demands rebuilding trust between states and citizens, investing in governance, and dismantling the economic lifelines of insurgents. Without these measures, the Sahel risks becoming a permanent theatre of instability—a reminder that terrorism is not only fought on battlefields but also in markets, villages, and the fragile social contracts that bind nations together.
Amajama, a social and policy analyst, writes from Abuja and can be reached via [email protected]
