Colonel Assimi Goïta, Mali’s military ruler, takes a firm political hold
Following in the footsteps of the military regimes in Burkina Faso and Niger, Mali’s military junta has endorsed the leadership of Colonel Assimi Goïta for another five years. It also announced a sweeping ban on political parties, leaving little room for political dissent.
Those backing the regime claim it is the only way to pull Mali back from the brink after years of spiralling crises. For Malians opposed to the junta, the move feels like a deathblow to what was left of their democracy.
The country has been trapped in a cycle of crisis for more than ten years, as jihadist violence, economic collapse, and weak civilian governments have left it teetering. Now, with Goïta tightening his hold, Mali stands at a crossroads. The decisions made today won’t just shape its own fate, but could send shockwaves across the already volatile Sahel.
Five years ago, mass protests over jihadist violence and economic collapse led to the overthrow of Ibrahim Boubacar Keïta’s civilian government by Goïta. An unstable transition followed, which resulted in another coup d’état in 2021. This time, Goïta took over the presidency himself, promising stability. He tightened his grip on a nation still reeling from crisis. Five years later, his rule remains defined by those actions. The ban imposed on political parties and securing a five-year term signals a shift toward long-term military governance.
Mali’s embrace of military rule is part of a regional pattern within the three member-states of Alliance of Sahel States (AES). All three countries have delayed promised elections, citing the need to focus on security. Several analysts have said the AES represents a “Coup Belt” where military leaders have gained public support by addressing grievances over corruption and insecurity that civilian governments failed to tackle.
Supporters of Mali’s military government argue that dissolving political parties and extending Goïta’s rule are necessary to address existential threats. For over ten years, the country has been locked in conflict with Tuareg fighters and jihadists, some aligned with al-Qaeda and ISIS, who still control large areas of the north. Meanwhile, the country’s former civilian leaders, bogged down by graft and infighting, never managed to regain control.
The military, by contrast, offers a unified command structure capable of decisive action, some say. “Goïta’s regime has shown it can take the fight to the jihadists in ways civilian leaders never could,” said one Africa analyst. “For many Malians, that’s worth more than elections.” While this claim is true to some extent, some pundits say it is exaggerated.
The ban on political parties has clearly sparked outrage but it has its defenders. Their argument is that party politics has fed the old divisions between Mali’s north and south, especially between the Tuareg regions and the power-hungry elites in Bamako. The junta’s bet is that by cutting out the political middlemen and ruling directly, they can finally take control of the country’s security crisis and actually get things done.
By centralising power, the junta aims to centralise governance and focus on security and develodevelop There have been a number of reports claiming that Goïta’s government has invested in rural infrastructure, such as irrigation projects in the Mopti region, to boost agricultural output, a critical step toward food security in a country where over 40% of the population lives in poverty, according to World Bank data.
Critics say Goïta has removed any remaining doubts about his long-term plans. Mali’s political parties are now banned. Independent media has faced crackdowns for what the junta has described as the dissemination of false information tarnishing the efforts of the armed forces against insurgent groups. Civil society groups warn that dissent is being crushed. By dissolving political parties and securing his rule until 2030, he has effectively turned Mali into a military-led state.
“This is not a transition anymore. It is a new system,” said a Bamako-based political analyst. “Goïta is betting that Malians will trade democracy for security.” Mali’s most pressing crisis is its decade-long war against jihadist groups linked to Al-Qaeda and ISIS. Despite French and UN military interventions, the violence has only spread.
Goïta argues that civilian governments failed because they were too corrupt and too dependent on foreign powers. His solution is a no-nonsense military approach. Since cutting ties with France the junta claims it has made gains through its joint operations with the Russian Wagner Group, now known as the Africa Corps. But experts are sceptical. “The militants adapt,” said a Sahel security analyst. “Military force alone won’t end this war.”
Mali’s shifting political landscape reflects a growing push to distance itself from long-standing Western control, both politically and economically. For years, Mali and its neighbours in the Sahel region remained tightly bound to French influence, a dynamic critics often label as “Françafrique.”
This relationship, as highlighted in a January Harvard International Review article, came with strings attached. Western aid and military support often required adherence to democratic norms that many Sahel countries found ill-suited to their realities. “Democracy, as imposed by the West, didn’t address our core issues,” a Malian official said in an interview with a local Malian media outfit in April. “It brought elections, but also corruption and division.”
On its new alliances, Mali’s alliance with Russia’s Wagner Group, despite its controversial human rights record, has provided the country with military training and equipment, enabling the junta to reclaim territory from insurgent groups. A 2023 Al Jazeera report noted Russia’s appeal to Sahel juntas for offering “total support” without Western-style conditions.
This shift reflects Mali’s broader realignment within the AES. The AES states have collectively withdrawn from the Economic Community of West African States (ECOWAS), forming a mutual defence bloc that prioritises regional sovereignty over Western-backed democratic norms.
While the junta rationalises its decision to dissolve political parties and stifle alternative political positions, the country’s move toward military rule carries serious risks. Pundits say the dissolution of political parties eliminates a key mechanism for addressing dissent, raising fears of authoritarianism.
Many warn that this is a dangerous precedent. Without political parties, they say, there’s no way to channel opposition peacefully, and people may turn to violence instead.
The shift, government voices say, also offers potential benefits. They see a unified approach to Mali’s jihadist crisis, economic partnerships free of Western conditions, and a chance to redefine governance in a way that resonates with local realities.
However, the lack of political pluralism could backfire. Without avenues for dialogue, ethnic tensions, particularly in the north, may escalate, as many have warned. But the junta’s focus on pragmatic governance could yield results that civilian leaders could not, offering Mali a chance at stability, even if at the cost of democratic ideals, regime supporters say.
Mali’s experiment with military rule remains a high-stakes gamble, one that could either pave the way for stability or plunge the country deeper into conflict.
