Snapshot

Mali’s insurgency has entered a dangerous new phase as Jama’at Nusrat al-Islam wal-Muslimin (JNIM), al-Qaeda’s Sahelian affiliate, is no longer content with sporadic raids or roadside ambushes. Its campaign has shifted toward economic warfare, a systematic assault on the arteries that keep the state and its capital alive. By torching fuel tanker convoys and enforcing blockades, the group is tightening a noose around Bamako, forcing the junta to confront not just a battlefield adversary but an existential economic threat.

In early September, JNIM moved decisively to enforce a blockade along the Kayes–Nioro corridor, a key artery linking Senegal and Mali. Fuel tankers that attempted to break the siege were destroyed, with entire convoys attacked even under military escort. The blockade later expanded southward toward the Ivorian border in the Sikasso region, where dozens of vehicles were stranded, unable to move without the promise of protection. These actions are calculated strikes at the Dakar–Bamako corridor, which carries most of Mali’s imports, while simultaneously exposing the Kayes region, home to the bulk of the country’s gold production. The immediate effects are already being felt in Bamako; Argon Economic Monitoring noted fuel prices have spiked, and inflation on staple goods threatens to soar if alternative routes cannot be secured. By severing the capital’s lifelines, JNIM is effectively working to encircle Bamako without firing a shot inside it.  

The attacks are not isolated incidents but part of a broader strategy. In mid-September, militants set ablaze more than 80 tankers along the Kayes–Nioro corridor, Mali’s main western artery for fuel imports from Senegal. Days later, in Bougouni, closer to the Ivorian border and just 160 kilometres from Bamako, several tankers were destroyed on another vital supply route. These highways are not simply trade channels, they are the veins that keep the capital alive. Their disruption is a deliberate attempt to strangle Bamako’s access to essential supplies and create the sense that the capital is under siege from all directions.

Fuel lies at the heart of the capital’s vulnerability. It powers transport networks and underpins small businesses; Argon’s Open-Source Monitoring has already recorded localised power outages across Bamako districts and long queues at filling stations. By targeting convoys before they reach the city, JNIM is making Bamako feel the war without ever breaching its perimeter. What appears as highway sabotage is in reality a deliberate strategy of encirclement, choking the capital’s arteries until the political pressure on the junta becomes unsustainable. 

At the same time, JNIM is positioning itself as more than an armed group. Argon Open-Source Monitoring noted that foreign companies in contested areas are pressured to pay taxes, while in September, transport unions have allegedly negotiated agreements to secure safe passage. These practices cast JNIM as a parallel authority, one that regulates commerce, levies revenue, and provides protection where the state is absent. By fusing insurgency with governance, JNIM undermines Bamako’s legitimacy and makes stabilisation far more difficult, portraying itself as both destroyer and provider. 

The implications of JNIM’s latest tactics extend well beyond Mali’s borders. Senegal’s trade flows are directly threatened by the siege of the Dakar–Bamako corridor, while Côte d’Ivoire faces stalled commerce, with dozens of vehicles immobilised at its frontier. By weaponizing key economic arteries, JNIM is signalling that its operational reach is not confined to Mali, neighbouring states remain equally vulnerable to similar forms of economic coercion.

JNIM’s strategy of economic warfare appears to be proving effective. As of October, militants continue to sustain the blockade, frequently ambushing army convoys and disrupting fuel supplies, resulting in persistent shortages and long queues in Bamako. This tactic presents a dangerous precedent that could be replicated in other parts of Africa where jihadist groups operate. Al-Qaeda affiliates in Somalia, for instance, could easily adopt this approach, turning JNIM’s campaign into a transnational playbook for insurgent economic sabotage.

In the months ahead, a key indicator to watch will be whether JNIM escalates its chokehold on Mali’s economy, tightening control around Bamako while probing trade corridors into Guinea, Côte d’Ivoire, and Senegal. If the junta fails to restore secure access to the capital, fuel shortages could deepen, public frustration could rise, and the perception of state weakness would likely harden. For regional partners, the challenge will be whether they can safeguard their own trade routes from similar disruption.

Facing the risk of a complete fuel collapse, the junta’s strategy of protecting fuel tankers with military convoys has proven unsustainable, often exposing troops to repeated ambushes. Strengthening negotiation channels with JNIM may offer a more viable path. Engagement should involve influential political and local figures, particularly Tuareg leaders with ties to both the junta and JNIM, who could serve as intermediaries to facilitate dialogue and de-escalation.

Taken together, these developments underscore that JNIM’s campaign can no longer be dismissed as a localised insurgency. The group’s fusion of battlefield capability, economic sabotage, and proto-governance is reshaping the security and economic landscape of the Sahel. JNIM is rewriting the rules of asymmetric warfare, transforming trade routes into battlegrounds and supply chains into instruments of coercion. Unless effectively countered, the group risks consolidating itself as both a military power and an economic gatekeeper, capable of encircling capitals, destabilising governments, and redefining the balance of power across West Africa.