Issue No. 954

A foreign-backed president, a besieged capital city, and a jihadist movement affiliated with Al-Qaeda-- this time not Somalia, but Mali. Late last week, Jama'at Nusrat al-Islam wal-Muslimin (JNIM), the transnational Salafist-jihadist group in Mali, stormed across much of the country's north, as well as entering Bakamo and assassinating the defence minister. The coordinated offensive-- in conjunction with the Tuareg separatist movement, the Azawad Liberation Front (ALF)-- has left the military junta reeling, and forced the withdrawal of their Russian allies from a number of strategic towns. The similarities between Mali and Somalia are self-evident, but their differences are instructive as well, not least the dangers of outsourcing security. 

First, JNIM and Al-Shabaab share a number of parallels, including their-- at least nominal-- ties to Al-Qaeda proper, attaching themselves to the global brand of Osama bin Laden and Ayman al-Zawahiri. Such framing is apparent in their prolific propaganda, but in practical terms, it means little for Al-Shabaab, though some have argued that the title of Al-Qaeda serves as a unifying strand amid JNIM's decentralised, diverse nature. Indeed, there is a case to be made that Al-Shabaab is better-armed and better-funded than Al-Qaeda's central leadership today. More immediately, though, both JNIM and Al-Shabaab draw their influence from festering in the gaps and failures of the state, seeking to exploit the historic grievances of rural constituencies-- be it the Rahanweyne of southern Somalia or the Fulani pastoralists of West Africa. Legacies of predatory state behaviour have left communities with little cause to defend a distant regime, far from their impoverishment.

It is these gaps that JNIM and Al-Shabaab exploit, though their extremist ideology is imposed soon after-- regardless of community consent. Indeed, both Mali and Somalia have histories of more moderate strains of Islam, with the latter's sometimes referred to as the 'veil lightly worn.' But the inadequacies of the state in education and justice have allowed rival forms of authority to proliferate. Al-Shabaab's sharia courts are a useful case in point, with people travelling from Mogadishu to use them, with their dispute-resolution mechanisms considered less corrupt and more efficient than their government counterparts. JNIM, too, is increasingly wielding its social services as an alternative to the government, challenging not only the monopoly of violence that the state holds, but its capacity as well. 

Yet there are important differences in how each movement governs. Al-Shabaab has developed a comparatively centralised and bureaucratised system of rule, standardising taxation, justice, and administration across much of south-central Somalia. JNIM, by contrast, often governs through looser arrangements, embedding itself within local power structures and negotiating authority with community leaders, militias, and clerics. JNIM more often co-opts, at least initially, adapting its rule to local contexts, though Al-Shabaab, too, embeds itself within Somalia's clan structure, exploiting and preying on historic divisions-- as well as routinely negotiating and co-opting elders. 

This extends to political strategy as well, with JNIM at times demonstrating a pragmatic willingness to engage in dialogue, or at least signal openness to negotiation, particularly when it strengthens its local legitimacy or fragments its adversaries. This was again seen in recent days, with the jihadists allying themselves with the Tuareg rebels-- though the latter have made it clear that it is a strategic, not ideological difference. Al-Shabaab, on the other hand, has remained more rigidly absolutist, rejecting meaningful negotiation with the federal government and framing the conflict in existential terms. This divergence reflects differences in ideological posture and the different political terrains in which they operate.

But perhaps most evident of their similarities is the spreading of JNIM in Al-Shabaab's voracious propaganda outlets, organised through the Al-Kataib Media Wing. In the past days, Al-Shabaab has reposted and shared JNIM's victories widely, revelling in the successes of their Al-Qaeda-affiliated counterparts on the other side of the continent. Al-Shabaab's leadership may well seek to emulate JNIM's recent successes, having repeatedly evolved and borrowed from other insurgent and jihadist movements, including the growing ties with the Iranian-backed Houthis. But the wealth and sophistication of Al-Shabaab's financial networks dwarfs JNIM, with the Somali jihadists raking in upwards of USD 200 million-- a scale that necessitates laundering across both licit and illicit spheres in multiple countries. These differences are also reflected in how each group generates revenue, with Al-Shabaab operating an extensive, proto-state taxation system, whereas JNIM more often relies on negotiated, localised forms of extraction tied to its alliances.

JNIM and Al-Shabaab, too, share a number of similarities in their military tactics, with the former having laid siege to several major Malian cities in recent months, including Bamako. This week, JNIM again announced a siege on the capital, with ongoing reports of clashes and jihadist activity in the suburbs. Their penetration of the capital-- witnessed in the shocking twin killings of the Malian chief of the general staff and defence minister-- is highly evocative of Al-Shabaab's attacks in Mogadishu, which have assassinated a series of senior politicians over the years, including coming close to the president in March 2025. Then, Al-Shabaab had swept across much of the Shabelles, advancing within a few dozen miles of Mogadishu, encircling the capital and raising genuine alarm that the jihadist movement might seek to retake the capital after 15 years. Of course, Al-Shabaab did not capture Mogadishu, and in the succeeding months, Ugandan and federal forces with Turkish aerial support have clawed back some territory near the capital. But the jihadists remain ensconced across the roads of south-central Somalia, extorting at whim and choking the government presence to a handful of satellite and garrison towns. Here, too, is a divergence, with Al-Shabaab demonstrating sustained capacity for infiltration and intimidation in Mogadishu, whereas JNIM's operations in Bamako are still episodic-- if effective-- with their strategy still weighted toward rural and peri-urban communities.

Nor are JNIM or Al-Shabaab the only jihadist groups operating in their country or region, with Islamic State branches similarly challenging the central state and wrestling for supremacy against their Salafist-jihadist adversaries. Having been substantially degraded by Puntland's Operation Hilaac across 2025, the Islamic State-Somalia (ISS) branch-- known for hosting the influential Al-Karrar Office-- is gradually reconstituting in the rugged Cal-Miskaad Mountain range, aspiring to return to extorting businesses in nearby Bosaaso. Its counterpart in the Sahel, the Islamic State Sahel Province (ISSP), controls a broader swathe of territory and operates transnationally, but similarly clashes with its own rival Al-Qaeda affiliates-- even as they swim in a similar milieu of grievances. Theological differences over purifying jihad and takfīr mean little in practice. Yet even here, the trajectories differ-- Al-Shabaab represents a more mature and consolidated insurgent system with over two decades of continuous governance experience, whereas JNIM remains in a more fluid, expansionary phase, still consolidating its control model.

But moving beyond JNIM and Al-Shabaab, one of the lessons from Mali-- though Somalia has three decades of endemic instability to draw on already-- is the fragility of outsourcing one's security to external patrons. After the besieged junta, the principal loser of the past week has been Moscow, with Russian forces forced to withdraw from a host of towns in northern Mali, including Kidal-- which it had seized after the French and UN pulled out in 2022. Though Russia's stock had already waned since much of the Wagner Group was gutted, it is toe-curling evidence that the remaining forces can do little more than 'coup-proof' a regime. Only Turkish and Russian drone strikes have allowed the government forces and their Africa Corps allies to maintain a hold over bases in Gao, Kati, Bamako, and Sévaré. Like Somalia, Ankara has supplied Mali with a number of homegrown military technologies, including Bayraktar TB2 drones, whose deployment has helped disrupt JNIM control in parts of the country. But their concentration-- and Turkish geostrategic stakes-- are far more limited than in Somalia, and drones can aid a war, but are unable to win it.

Mogadishu's equivalent security life support is far greater, spanning over 10,000 regional troops deployed under the banner of the African Union Support and Stabilisation Mission in Somalia (AUSSOM). But the mission is stumbling along, with debts being racked up by the troop contributing countries. But these forces —and the concentration of aerial support for Mogadishu — have kept Al-Shabaab at bay, with the jihadists struggling to make headway in parts of south-central Somalia, though the Somali National Army (SNA) remains as hapless as ever. Massing the forces necessary to seize and hold major towns has become trickier for the jihadists, now at graver risk of being targeted from the skies. 

For Mali and Somalia, the outsourcing of security —be it Moscow, Ankara, or the African Union peacekeeping mission —has severe limits, because inevitably these conflicts are political, not just military. Mali offers a stark illustration of how quickly external support can unravel, exposing the fragility of a state hollowed out from within. Somalia, by contrast, demonstrates the opposite, revealing how prolonged dependence on external forces sustains a precarious equilibrium without resolving the underlying contest for legitimacy and authority. In both cases, foreign backing may shape the battlefield, but it cannot substitute for a political settlement—nor rebuild the relationship between state and society that jihadist movements so effectively exploit.