1 Spread of Jihadist Actions from Mali to Burkina Faso

Among Sahelian countries, Burkina Faso is said to be the one where the security situation has deteriorated most rapidly (Antil 2019; The Africa Report 2022). From the first attacks that occurred in the country, one group, Ansarul Islam, quickly emerged as a major actor in the local jihadist landscape through an attack that killed twelve gendarmes in December 2016 in Nassoumbou, in the Sahel region of northern Burkina Faso (Le Cam 2017). It was through the claim of responsibility for this latest attack, posted on Facebook, that Ansarul Islam – the first jihadist group in the history of Burkina Faso, and its leader Malam Dicko – until then unknown, were discovered by the Burkinabe authorities (Le Cam 2017). It should be noted that this group, like the katiba Macina in central Mali, is also largely composed of Fulani fighters. The insurgency then spread along Burkina Faso’s border with Niger, and links were quickly identified between Malam Dicko and Amadou Kouffa’s katiba Macina. And even when Malam Dicko died in 2017, his brother and successor, Jafar Dicko, reportedly continued to travel frequently between the Djibo region of Burkina Faso and central Mali (The Africa Report 2022).

The growth of Burkinabe jihadist group, Ansarul Islam, was based on the same dynamics as those instrumentalised in central Mali by katiba Macina. The “egalitarian” discourse of Malam Dicko – “whose background is reminiscent of Amadou Kouffa’s” (ICG 2017) – has reportedly been very attractive to dominated social classes, such as the rimayɓe.Footnote 1 His rhetoric was very appealing, mainly because of his positioning as a “defender of the poor” and a “liberator” who had come to lighten the weight of traditions perceived as archaic and restrictive (ICG 2017); an approach almost identical to the one adopted by Amadou Kouffa in central Mali. Malam Dicko has therefore also relied heavily on “idle” Fulani youth to swell the ranks of his group. In all countries, the Fulani are subject to a social hierarchy similar to that described for Mali in the first part of this analysis, with upper and lower classes. However, notwithstanding this hierarchy, they share the same culture, the same language, and often have identical surnames (ICG 2017); however, the divide remains marked: “everyone knows his place”.

As previously demonstrated, the impressive growth of jihadist groups in Sahel, particularly in Mali and Burkina Faso, is largely due to local factors (ISS 2018; Haidara 2017, 2019; Benjaminsen and Ba 2019; Hardy 2019; Ilardo 2020; Boukhars 2023). They have succeeded effectively in exploiting pre-existing local vulnerabilities in land use, resource management, social exclusion, and long-standing inter-ethnic tensions in their favor. The katiba Macina in Mali and Ansarul Islam in Burkina Faso have gained prominence by preaching against the power abuses of elites against disadvantaged social groups, and have used the promise of security (against external abuses) and equitable resolution of local conflicts to legitimize their actions and foster their entrenchment within communities (Chauzal and Van Damme 2015; ICG 2017). The integration of jihadist groups into communities has then led to inter-communal conflicts, because of the amalgamation this may have created. The violence that has ensued has come from both some members of the armed forces – who present it as a “fight against terrorism” – and some self-defense militias, to protect their community (Blanchard 2022).

After taking root in the north, the “entry of the jihad into the countryside” (Faivre 2021), i.e., its extension to the southeast, considered the “granary” of Burkina Faso, will often be perceived as a desire of jihadist groups to reach the coastal countries bordering Burkina Faso (Tisseron 2019; ICG 2019, 2023; KAS 2021; Bruijne 2021). The same dynamic of instrumentalization of local factors observed in Mali also seems to be applied in eastern Burkina, which appears in some respects to be a “magnifying mirror” of the dynamics of regionalization of violence underway in the Sahel. In any case, Burkina Faso occupies a central position, linking the Sahel to coastal countries and sharing borders with four of them: Côte d’Ivoire (Ivory Coast), Ghana, Benin, and Togo. It also has privileged historical, human, economic and political relations with its southern neighbors. All this makes it an open door to the Gulf of Guinea.

The sharing of parks between the border areas of these different countries would be one of the main factors for the spread of jihadism in Benin and Togo (Simoncelli 2022; ICG 2023). Jihadist groups are said to be already well established there. As described by the International Crisis Group (2023), Parc W is an important source of income for insurgents: they use the park’s extensive network of trails and rivers to smuggle food, fuel, weapons, and motorcycles across the three borders. They then take advantage of the park’s size to store livestock they have stolen or accumulated through zakat (the alms Islam requires from wealthy Muslims), sometimes selling them in nearby markets. Finally, they levy taxes on gold panners in the region and use intermediaries, some of whom may be based in Niamey, to negotiate the resale of gold. In addition, they use bases in the park to launch attacks in new directions, particularly to the south.

2 The Spread of Jihadism in Niger

The history of Sahelian jihadism – imported from Algeria – began in the same way in Niger and Mali. Indeed, the failure of armed Salafist movements in Algeria in their attempt to overthrow by violence the political order established in that country since 1962 will push several jihadist groups to withdraw to the South of the Sahara. This was the case, in particular, of the Groupe Salafiste pour la Prédication et le Combat (GSPC), which became Al Qaeda in the Islamic Maghreb (AQIM), which withdrew to the north of Mali and Niger to set up fighting cells (katibas) and try to mobilise local communities to its cause (Haidara 2015; Gaye 2017; Tessières 2018). Gazibo (2013) situates the deterioration of Niger’s security – a situation that was, in his view, foreseeable – at the end of the military campaigns of Operation Serval, which liberated northern Mali from the control of jihadist groups. Indeed, faced with the advance of Franco-Malian troops, the Movement for Unity and Jihad in West Africa (MUJAO) partly retreated to Niger (Campana 2015).

A number of factors suggested that the situation in Niger would rapidly worsen: “part of the Nigerien population was already contaminated by a fairly radical Salafism” (IRIS 2022). For example, Niger had been the only country in the Sahel to experience violent riots against churches and businesses run by Christians, resulting in five deaths, when Charlie Hebdo published cartoons of Mohammed in 2015. In addition, it presented itself as a threatened country on five of its seven borders, with the presence of four main groups: Jamā’at nuṣrat al-islām wal-muslimīn (JNIM), Islamic State in the Greater Sahara (ISGS, now called IS Sahel), Islamic State in West Africa Province (ISWAP) and Boko Haram (IRIS 2022).

2.1 Similarities with Mali

In the post-Gaddafi geopolitical context, Niger and Mali are both subject to the same risks from the start of the crisis. Moreover, historically, Tuareg rebellions in Mali and Niger have always had contagion effects from one to the other. But why has Niger not been the target of Tuareg armed groups, unlike Mali? Gazibo (2013) answers this question by stating that

if the armed groups ended up settling in Mali, it was because they were unable to do so in Niger, a country bordering Libya unlike Mali, but where the army managed to disarm or neutralize the columns that entered its territory.

Moreover, with the capture of northern Mali, the entire 821 km of the border separating the two countries came under the control of armed groups in a region where, moreover, the borders are very porous and uncontrolled. This is one of the reasons why the author says that the extension of the crisis to Niger was predictable. This fear was one of the reasons why Niger was one of the first countries to announce the sending of five hundred troops to Mali in support of Operation Serval. This position would have meant that Niger would have received direct threats from AQIM and MUJAO jihadists from the outset.

These threats were materialised only a few months later, on 23 May, 2013, by coordinated kamikaze jihadist attacks carried out by the MUJAO and the “Signataires par le sang” group – now disbanded since August 2013 – against the Agadez military camp and the Arlit uranium mine: ten jihadists blew themselves up or were shot dead, while 24 Nigerien soldiers were killed. From 2016, attacks from Mali intensified in the Tillabéri and Tahoua regions of western Niger, regularly resulting in military casualties. Jihadist activity, both by ISGS and JNIM, subsequently increased significantly in the southern regions of Tahoua, Dosso, and Tillabéri (Pellerin 2022a).

2.2 Impacts of Jihadism on Inter-Community Relations

With the development of jihadist groups, the same dynamic noted elsewhere in the Sahel has occurred in Niger, namely the multiplication of community-based armed groups. According to the Armed Conflict Location and Event Data Project (ACLED), populations (particularly in the Djerma, Tuareg and Arab communities) that were subjected to mass killings attempted to resist the jihadists by creating self-defense militias in 16 different communes. This gave rise to numerous settlements of scores between communities (Pellerin 2019); particularly targeting the Fulani. In this regard, the Fulani community in Niger has organized and led a public campaign to denounce the alleged killings of hundreds of Fulani civilians in 2017 and 2018 (Pellerin 2019).

As in Mali and Burkina Faso, several other communities in Niger seem to be firmly convinced that “the Fulani constitute the core of the jihadist troops operating in the interior delta of the Niger in the tri-border area” (Roger and Diallo 2020). Almost all jihadist groups operating in Niger are known to be composed of a majority of Fulani fighters, be it the katiba Macina, the katiba Serma,Footnote 2 Ansarul Islam, or even the ISGS. Moreover, Benjamin Roger recalls this little phrase that is not uncommon to hear in Bamako, Niamey, and Ouagadougou: “Not all Fulani are jihadists, but all jihadists are Fulani.” What is ultimately notable for Niger is that despite being “caught in the middle of jihadist groups on its borders from the outset” (Grégoire 2015), it accounts for only 10% of all violence in the region (ACSS 2022). In the light of the above, we can see that in all the countries studied, jihadist groups seem to have adopted the same approach in each case. The question then arises as to whether these groups are pursuing an elaborate strategy of territorial expansion, or whether they are simply exploiting existing disorders.

3 Elaborate Strategies by Jihadist Groups or Simple Exploitation of Existing Disorder?

Considering what happened in northern Mali during the 2012 jihadist occupation, it appears that Sahelian jihadist groups, particularly those linked to al-Qaeda, currently appear to be unfolding a strategy designed since that time. Indeed, in a document dated July 20, 2012 – signed by the leader of AQIM, found on February 16, 2013 by Nicolas Champeaux and Jean-Louis Le Touzet, special envoys for Radio France Internationale (RFI) and Libération in Timbuktu – appears what seems to be the jihadist strategy designed for Mali and the Sahel (RFI 2013). To achieve the creation of an Islamic state, Abdelmalek Droukdel suggests that his lieutenants mislead the local population, and give the armed Tuareg independence movements (with whom they have temporarily allied themselves) the illusion that they will have power, and not arouse the attention of the international community.

A key element of the strategy was to do everything possible to gain the support of the local population, to “win their hearts and minds” through concession and flexibility; this was more out of pragmatism than pure ideology. Droukdel advocated moderation in all his group’s actions, denouncing, for example, the destruction of mausoleums in Timbuktu and the punishments inflicted by the jihadists on certain people. He clearly condemned, and launched a violent diatribe against the perpetrators of these acts: “You have made a serious mistake. The population can turn against us, and you cannot fight a whole peopleFootnote 3 […]”. This strategy could therefore explain the approach of integrating jihadist groups, particularly those linked to JNIM, into local communities. Here, it is a main element that has contributed to the development of jihadist groups.

3.1 Governance of Territories and Strategies of Jihadist Groups in the Sahel

All jihadist groups have the use of violence at the heart of their governance. But the exercise of violence varies profoundly from group to group in that it can be selective (with JNIM) or indiscriminate (with ISGS).

3.1.1 Methods Applied by the Affiliated Groups of JNIM

The JNIM would be more like a decentralized network of katibas (battalions) (Rupesinghe and Bøås 2019; Baldaro and Diall 2020). For example, the katiba Macina adopts a decentralized governance system in which Kouffa delegates authority to military and political leaders known as “markaz chiefs”, who are responsible for overseeing the training camps (markaz). They also have broader governance responsibilities: collecting zakat, administering justice with the support of qadis (Islamic judges), organizing attacks, and managing finances (Baldaro and Diall 2020).

To establish its authority, the JNIM appears to have opted for both persuasion and coercion. It also seeks compromise with the inhabitants of the areas it controls, maintaining traditional power structures and allowing local officials to manage day-to-day affairs, under conditions imposed by the insurgents (ICG 2019, 2021). Jihadists also often resort to collective or individual punishment of the most insubordinate. To impose their will, they have besieged and blockaded recalcitrant villages for several months – in Mali and Burkina Faso – preventing the movement of people and goods and prohibiting access to fields.

“In the absence of state administration, populations have turned to other ‘authorities’ to access basic social services, and thus to a new governance offer” (Tobie and Chauzal 2018; Tobie and Sangaré 2019; Rupesinghe et al. 2021). In some of the areas they control, JNIM insurgents often attempt to provide services to the local population, such as justice through Islamic courts, protection from crime, or price regulation and quality control of products in rural markets. In addition, they have taken steps to protect natural resources and have sometimes prevented villagers from cutting down trees (ICG 2021). They also allowed humanitarian NGOs to provide medical and veterinary services, clean water and food. At the same time, they have closed hundreds of public schools, which they consider to be in violation of sharia law, especially because of the mixed classes and the lack of Islamic education. At the same time, they have encouraged people to enroll their children in Quranic schools. JNIM insurgents also collect zakat, and use some of this money to fund their activities and, in some cases, redistribute some of it to the needy. While zakat is a financial burden for those who are taxed, based on their income, the redistribution of wealth is an aspect of jihadist governance that the poorest particularly appreciate.

Analysis of the governance of jihadist groups has fundamentally challenged the idea that governance is the sole prerogative of “government” (Hassan 2022). Yet more attention is often paid to episodes of violence committed by armed groups than to their ability to develop alternative forms of local governance in rural areas. Indeed, the way they govern varies, both between and within groups, even if they are affiliated with the same Salafist-jihadist ideology. They do not follow strict ideological models for imposing their authority, for managing the territories they control, and do not rely solely on the use of violence. For example, the same group may exercise violence in one country, and exercise restraint in another to avoid alienating local communities (Ibrahim 2019). Thus, they continually adapt their mode of governance based on internal factional dynamics and pressure from state and other non-state actors (Rupesinghe et al. 2021).

3.1.2 Methods Applied by Boko Haram and Affiliates: ISWAP and ISGS

Recall here that ISGS – now called IS Sahel – is a splinter of ISWAP, and ISWAP itself was born out of a split from Boko Haram. With regard to Boko Haram and the ISWAP, “five under-researched independent variables” shape “rebel” governance in northeast Nigeria and Niger: 1) illegitimate state practices, 2) community resilience and cohesion, 3) external counterinsurgency, 4) “big men”, and 5) ideology (Hassan 2022).

  1. 1.

    Contrary to what the literature suggests, Boko Haram and ISWAP, rather than operating in ungoverned spaces, exercise and compete for governance in these areas alongside the Nigerian and Nigerien states (Raleigh and Dowd 2013; Hassan 2022). Their rise to power is thought to be the result of a crisis of governance in Nigeria and Niger (Yusuf 2013; Ladbury et al. 2016).

  2. 2.

    The social infrastructure built by the group for the benefit of communities would have facilitated the fast recruitment of members, who were mostly poor Nigerians or citizens of neighboring countries who had been poorly served by their official governments (Chothia 2013; Hassan 2022; Ladbury et al. 2016; Ojo 2020).

  3. 3.

    ISWAP has reportedly succeeded in subverting counterinsurgency strategies in Nigeria and Niger (Rupesinghe et al. 2021); and in positioning itself as the loyal defender of the territory against the invader (Berlingozzi and Stoddard 2020; Hassan 2022).

  4. 4.

    The fourth “big man”Footnote 4 factor emphasizes the importance of leadership in the success of Boko Haram (Mahmood and Ani 2018; Zenn 2019, 2020).

  5. 5.

    The early use of the media by Nigerian Salafi-jihadis, to convey their ideology and sermons highly critical of the Nigerian government (Campbell 2017; Hassan 2022). Boko Haram is said to have been flourishing this dynamic of rejecting the state, and establishing a “community of the Ummah” (Pieri and Zenn 2016; Campbell 2017; Oriola and Akinola 2017; Omenma et al. 2020).

3.2 Local Responses and Community Perception of Jihadist Groups

Two main attitudes seem to guide the relationship of local populations vis-à-vis armed jihadist groups: 1) submission and allegiance in exchange for supposed protection from them; or 2) opposition to their penetration, which is accompanied by violence against resisting civilian populations. In several Sahelian territories under their control, the jihadists have indeed succeeded in gaining the loyalty/submission of local populations. This has resulted in less violence in areas that are fully under their control, and more violence in areas that attempt to resist their penetration and/or settlement. This is consistent with their rule of protection against allegiance. This same dynamic seems to be observed in all areas of jihadist insurgency in the Sahel (Pellerin 2022b).

As a result, some communities have chosen to resist through the creation of armed self-defense groups. Such a dynamic can be seen in many countries facing jihadism, notably with the “Volunteers for the Defense of the Homeland” in Burkina Faso, the Dana Ambassagou militia of Dozo hunters in Mali and the Civilian Joint Task Force (CJTF) in Nigeria. Only the Nigerien state is said to have prevented the formation of self-defense groups, resisting the strong temptation of Fulani and Mahamid Arabs in the Diffa region to form self-defense groups against ISGS (Pellerin 2022b).

We also note that in some circumstances, notably in Mali, the submission of besieged populations is initially coerced, but in some cases they come to find qualities in their oppressors, particularly in the delivery of justice. Several testimonies we have collected in previous (as yet unpublished) research refer to jihadists delivering justice more fairly and quickly than the state’s judicial administration. Some of our interlocutors have already explained to us that since the desertion of judges from the state administration and the takeover of justice by the jihadists, there have been far fewer disputes related to, for example, access to natural resources (e.g., the management of bourgoutièresFootnote 5), which was often an important factor in inter-communal conflicts.

3.3 Local Perceptions of Counterterrorism Operations

Since the beginning of the crisis in Mali and its spread to other Sahelian countries, a plethora of military arrangements – consisting of counterterrorism and peacekeeping forces – have been put in place in various Sahelian countries: Serval, Barkhane, G5 Sahel, MINUSMA, Sabre, Takuba, etc. The results of these military initiatives have been very limited in terms of their impact on resolving the crisis. The majority of Sahelian opinions are negative, based on the fact that the Sahel is no more secure or stable today than it was when these various military instruments were deployed. Since the beginning of the crisis in Mali, France has taken the lead in counterterrorism operations. These operations have been characterized primarily by the “neutralization” of jihadist leaders. These losses, while significant, have had little impact on jihadist groups because of their ability to regenerate quickly. Civilian casualties due to jihadism and inter-communal conflict have continued to rise and the area of operation of armed groups has expanded considerably over the years. The prevailing view in the Sahel countries (Mali, Burkina Faso, Niger) seems to be that international interventions, with all the human and material resources at their disposal, are ineffective. Many also accuse the international forces of playing a double game, and of being themselves often the cause of the worsening crisis; a way for them to legitimize their presence. This is evidenced by the regular waves of protest against MINUSMA in Mali, and against the French military presence in Niger, Burkina Faso and Mali.

This dynamic has led to the premature end of Operation Barkhane in Mali (which began in 2014 and included 5100 soldiers) and Task Force Takuba (which began in 2020 and included 900 soldiers). Recently, in January 2023, under popular pressure, the transitional government of Burkina Faso also formally asked France to withdraw its troops deployed in Operation Sabre. All of this explains why some Sahelian populations, particularly Malians and Burkinabe, are firmly convinced that Russia will do better than France and are putting strong pressure on their leaders to enter into agreements with Russian private military companies. We have seen this dynamic set in place first in Mali with Wagner, and perhaps soon in Burkina Faso, which also seems seduced by the Russian security offer (Haidara 2022).