On 10 October 2026, the Azawad Liberation Army (FLA) reportedly carried out a drone attack on positions held by Africa Corps and the Malian army in Soumpi, located in the Timbuktu region. This incident brings to the fore a critical question: after more than four years of a security crisis, can Mali genuinely hope to achieve stability by relying primarily on its Russian military partners?
A partnership under scrutiny amid enduring threats
Since assuming power, Assimi Goïta has made the shift in military partnerships a cornerstone of his security strategy. The withdrawal of French forces and the rapprochement with Russia were presented as evidence of a new sovereignty and an enhanced capacity to defend the national territory. Nevertheless, the persistence of attacks and the vulnerability of certain military positions raise questions about the tangible outcomes of this orientation.
The reported attack in Soumpi does not, by itself, allow for a definitive assessment of Russian-Malian cooperation. It nonetheless underscores an inescapable reality: the presence of foreign military partners does not, on its own, guarantee the end of an insurgency or the lasting restoration of security.
Can Russian mercenaries truly end Mali’s crisis?
Assimi Goïta must confront the situation directly: Mali’s problem will not be resolved merely by replacing a Western military partner with a Russian one. After more than four years of military rule, the population has the right to expect lasting results, not just announcements of operations or isolated victories presented as decisive.
Recent events illustrate the complexity of the challenge. On 6 October 2026, the Malian army, backed by its Russian partners, retook Kidal following the announced withdrawal of the Azawad Liberation Front (FLA). This development represents a symbolic success for Bamako, but analysts believe it does not constitute, in itself, a decisive victory in the fight against armed groups.
A few days later, the reported drone attack in Soumpi, in the Timbuktu region, serves as a reminder that the situation remains fragile. While the exact circumstances of this operation and its toll are yet to be established, one question persists: how can it be explained that, despite several years of military cooperation with Moscow, the positions of Malian forces and their allies remain exposed to attacks?
A military cooperation that must not become a dependency
The partnership with Russia can provide equipment, operational capabilities, and support on the ground. However, it does not exempt Malian authorities from defining a coherent national strategy, strengthening their own forces, and addressing the root causes of insecurity.
This is precisely where the debate should focus. Has Mali sufficiently strengthened its autonomous military capabilities? Do the operations sustainably secure recaptured localities? Can populations return to their villages without fear of new attacks? Can public services and administration function normally in the reconquered areas?
These questions are far more important than discourses on sovereignty or rivalries between foreign powers.
The war may also serve the interests of those who claim to fight it
It is also necessary to examine with lucidity the economic interests surrounding this cooperation. The presence of Russian military companies in Mali is part of a relationship where security issues and economic interests can intersect, particularly around natural resources.
However, it would be imprudent to assert, without verifiable evidence, that Russian forces deliberately seek to prolong the war to earn more money. Such an accusation requires documented elements on contracts, payments, and the interests at stake.
The real issue lies elsewhere: when a country’s security depends heavily on an external partner, it is essential to verify that this partner’s commitments primarily serve the interests of the Malian population. The transparency of contracts, the cost of cooperation, and the results obtained must be assessable.
A military partnership cannot be considered a success simply because it allows a government to remain in place. Its value must be measured by its capacity to protect civilians, sustainably reduce violence, and enable the country to return to normal life.
Assimi Goïta must rethink his strategy
Mali cannot afford to confuse the maintenance of power with the restoration of security. Sovereignty does not consist only of changing partners or displaying a break with former alliances. It also presupposes having the means to defend one’s territory, protect one’s population, and make decisions without excessive dependence on a foreign power.
The Malian crisis demands a broader strategy: better-prepared national forces, effective intelligence, increased protection of populations, credible governance, and a political response to local conflicts. Military means are necessary, but they alone are not sufficient.
The reported attack in Soumpi should therefore be regarded as a new warning, not as definitive proof of the failure of Russian cooperation.
Ultimately, Assimi Goïta must understand one thing: Russia can be a partner for Mali, but it cannot substitute for a Malian strategy capable of producing lasting results. If the authorities continue to measure their success solely by the presence of their foreign allies, they risk missing the essential question: when will Malians finally be able to live in security, without each new attack casting doubt on promises of victory?
The priority must be Mali and its population, not the defense of the interests of any partner whatsoever.