The headlines coming out of Bamako are charmingly quaint. They paint a picture of "rogue elements" within the Malian armed forces, suggesting that if you just prune a few bad apples, the orchard heals. The investigation into soldiers accused of participating in coordinated insurgent attacks is being framed by mainstream outlets as a corruption scandal, a temporary malfunction of a state trying to find its footing.
This narrative is not just wrong. It is dangerous. It relies on the naive assumption that the Malian military exists as a monolith—a top-down, command-driven machine fighting against a clearly defined, external enemy. Expanding on this topic, you can also read: Why Iran Thinks the US Has No Good Moves Left.
The truth is uglier. In the Sahel, the military isn't fighting a war; it is competing for market share.
I have spent enough time in zones where the border is nothing more than a line drawn on a map by dead colonial administrators to know one thing: when the state stops paying you, you stop serving the state. You start serving the highest bidder. If you want to understand why a Malian soldier would turn his rifle on his own ranks to assist insurgents, stop looking for ideological betrayal. Stop looking for "insider threats." Start looking at the payroll. Observers at Al Jazeera have provided expertise on this matter.
The Myth of the Unified Command
The lazy consensus in the foreign press is that these soldiers went "rogue." This phrasing implies they deviated from a stable, functional norm. It assumes there is a center in Bamako that holds.
There isn't.
Imagine a scenario where you are a commander in a remote outpost in the north. You are under-supplied, your fuel rations are sold off by the chain of command above you, and your men haven't been paid for three months. You are surrounded by a local population that views you as an occupying force, not as protectors. Then, an insurgent group arrives. They offer you a deal: you provide intelligence on army movements, perhaps turn a blind eye to a convoy transit, and in exchange, you and your men get paid.
Is this treason? Or is it a rational decision in an irrational system?
When the state effectively abandons its own combatants, those combatants create their own internal economy. They become warlords. The "investigation" now underway is not an effort to purge the military of corruption; it is a public relations exercise designed to keep international donors and regional partners satisfied. It is a pantomime of statehood.
The Business of War
Western analysts love to talk about "security sector reform." They hold summits in Brussels and DC, drafting white papers on training, equipment, and professionalization. They focus on hardware and tactics. They ignore the reality of human survival.
In the current Malian context, the insurgency isn't just a threat; it is a competitor in the business of local influence. The insurgents provide local security, local justice, and local protection in areas where the government has been absent for years. Soldiers, sensing that the tide is turning, realize that joining the winning side is a safer bet for their own longevity than dying for a government that treats them as disposable assets.
We are seeing a transition from national defense to a franchise model of violence. Soldiers aren't betraying their country; they are hedging their bets in a failed venture.
The Western Blind Spot
The international community's insistence on holding the Malian government to "democratic standards" and "rule of law" is laughable when the state is physically incapable of exerting control outside the major hubs.
By forcing the government to perform these investigations, we are essentially demanding that they pretend to be a functioning 20th-century nation-state. This doesn't help. It just forces the corruption underground. The soldiers won't stop cooperating with insurgents because of an inquiry. They will just get better at hiding it.
The mistake is thinking that this is a problem that can be solved with better oversight. Oversight requires a state that can punish its agents. If you cannot pay your soldiers, you cannot punish them. They will simply desert, join the other side, or form a new militia. The moment you threaten them with court-martial, you accelerate the rate at which they move from "corrupt collaborator" to "active insurgent."
The Reality Check
The Malian military is not a failed army. It is a collection of survivalist syndicates.
Any analysis that doesn't start with the collapse of the state's economic ability to provide for its troops is wasting your time. When you strip away the high-minded rhetoric about national sovereignty and the fight against terror, you are left with a simple, transactional reality.
Men with guns will eat. If the government doesn't feed them, the insurgents will.
The investigations will lead to a few scapegoats being paraded for the cameras. A few low-ranking officers will be drummed out of service or detained to satisfy the requirements of international monitors. The "bad apples" narrative will be reinforced. The press will move on to the next crisis.
Meanwhile, on the ground, the math remains the same. The soldiers will continue to cut deals. The insurgents will continue to gain ground. And the state will continue to pretend that it is still in charge, right up until the moment it isn't.
Stop looking for traitors. Start looking for the bankruptcy of the state. That is the only story that matters.
