Alliances

Bamako, Mali – The ambush that killed at least 50 Malian soldiers and struck a joint convoy of the Malian Armed Forces (FAMa) and Russia’s Africa Corps near the northern town of Anefis on July 18 was more than another battlefield setback.

It underscored how Mali’s armed groups are becoming increasingly coordinated, exposing the limits of the military government’s security strategy, despite growing Russian military support.

The Malian military confirmed the assault and said it had launched counter-operations, while Africa Corps later released footage it said showed drone strikes targeting fighters involved in the ambush.

The attack is the latest in a series of coordinated operations across northern Mali since April, raising questions about why armed groups are increasingly cooperating, whether Bamako’s security strategy is working, whether Russia’s military role has – and has not – changed, and what the conflict could mean for the wider Sahel.

Why are separatist and Islamic armed groups fighting together?

The July 18 ambush was jointly claimed by the Azawad Liberation Front (FLA), a coalition of predominantly Tuareg separatist groups, and Jama’at Nusrat al-Islam wal-Muslimin (JNIM), an al-Qaeda affiliate in the Sahel.

Until recently, such cooperation would have seemed unlikely as they have different longterm political aims. The FLA seeks greater autonomy or independence for northern Mali, while JNIM aims to establish governance based on its interpretation of Islamic law across the region.

For Héni Nsaibia, a senior West Africa analyst at the Armed Conflict Location & Event Data (ACLED) monitor, the answer lies in a shared battlefield enemy rather than a shared ideology.

“The Tuareg-led separatists and JNIM are currently fighting together because they share a common enemy in the Malian armed forces and their Russian partners from the Africa Corps,” Nsaibia told Al Jazeera.

“In doing so, they act as force multipliers for one another, allowing them to pool resources and mutualise their efforts to confront their adversaries more effectively. These groups also share kinship ties despite their ideological differences and regard one another as sons of the land, defending their ancestral territory against invading forces.”

For Mali’s military, that cooperation makes attacks harder to anticipate and more difficult to repel, allowing armed groups to combine local knowledge, manpower and operational experience while pursuing separate objectives.

The military government’s decision to abandon the 2015 Algiers Peace Agreement, request the withdrawal of the United Nations Multidimensional Integrated Stabilization Mission in Mali (MINUSMA), and deepen military cooperation with Russia reshaped the conflict. The collapse of the peace framework removed one of the few mechanisms managing relations between Bamako and northern armed groups, while the military’s increasingly confrontational approach encouraged former rivals to coordinate against a common adversary.

The shift became increasingly visible during coordinated attacks launched across several parts of the country in April, stretching Malian and Russian forces across multiple fronts. More recently, fighting around Anefis has shown that the alliance is capable not only of launching simultaneous operations but also of sustaining pressure on strategically important military positions.

With negotiations abandoned and military confrontation becoming the dominant strategy, armed groups that once competed with one another have found greater incentives to cooperate on the battlefield.

Has Russia changed the course of Mali’s war?

Since replacing the Wagner Group as Moscow’s principal military presence in Mali, Africa Corps has become an increasingly important partner for the Malian army.

Its personnel have provided combat support alongside Malian forces, while Russian drones and aircraft have expanded the military’s surveillance and strike capabilities. Those capabilities have strengthened the army’s ability to respond to attacks and defend key positions.

“Russia has helped strengthen Mali’s military, which was at risk of being overrun, and has given it more support on the battlefield,” Nimi Princewill, a regional analyst specialising in West Africa and the Sahel, told Al Jazeera.

“But this attack, as well as the earlier seizure of Kidal, suggests the Kremlin’s military support has not changed the overall picture. The conflict remains deeply rooted, with geographical and ideological dimensions that are proving difficult for the junta to tackle.” The army seized Kidal, a key town in the country’s north that the Tuareg rebels held for nearly a decade, in November 2023, but Tuareg and allied fighters retook the town in April this year.

Rather than transforming the conflict, Moscow’s military backing appears to have strengthened the army’s battlefield capabilities without addressing the political, governance and security conditions that continue to fuel the violence.

Recent operations reinforce that assessment. Convoys travelling through northern Mali continue to face frequent ambushes, particularly along routes linking Gao, Anefis and other military positions, exposing the continued vulnerability of military supply lines despite increased Russian support.

The shift away from Western security partners also changed the type of assistance available. While Africa Corps has strengthened Mali’s combat capabilities, the withdrawal of the United Nations Multidimensional Integrated Stabilization Mission in Mali (MINUSMA) ended an international presence that provided logistics, monitoring and intelligence support across much of northern Mali.

The result is a military that has become more effective in direct combat but continues to struggle to secure vast, remote territory against increasingly adaptable armed groups.

Has Bamako’s strategy paid off?

The limitations of Bamako’s security strategy raise broader questions about whether it is translating battlefield gains into lasting security.

Since seizing power in 2020, Mali’s military government has centred its strategy on military force, ending longstanding cooperation with Western partners while strengthening defence ties with Russia.

But the repeated ambushes around Anefis and along northern supply routes suggest the measurable gains of this approach on the battlefield have yet to translate into lasting strategic control.

More fundamentally, the growing cooperation between armed groups with different objectives suggests that Bamako’s strategy has not prevented them from adapting and reshaping the conflict.

What could this mean for the wider Sahel?

The implications of the Anefis ambush extend well beyond Mali.

JNIM, the al-Qaeda affiliate, already operates across Mali, Burkina Faso and Niger, while fighting continues to spread across the central Sahel.

The evolving battlefield also presents a challenge for the Alliance of Sahel States (AES), whose members all face persistent armed violence despite expanding military cooperation. The alliance was created to strengthen collective security, but increasingly coordinated attacks suggest that cooperation among governments is being matched by equally adaptable cooperation among armed groups.

At the same time, Mali’s withdrawal from the Economic Community of West African States (ECOWAS) has reduced opportunities for regional coordination with neighbouring countries confronting many of the same security threats.

If the FLA-JNIM partnership proves durable, it could encourage similar tactical cooperation elsewhere in the Sahel, further complicating efforts to contain armed groups whose operations already span national borders.

“The AES was supposed to mean that our security was finally our own business. But when Mali bleeds, Niger bleeds with it, because the armed groups attacking those convoys do not recognise the Alliance of Sahel States any more than they recognised ECOWAS. We traded one set of partners we did not trust for another, and the war is still coming south,” a Niger-based security expert, who requested anonymity because he feared potential repercussions, told Al Jazeera.

Whether the tactical partnership between the FLA and JNIM proves durable remains uncertain. But the Anefis ambush suggests that as Mali’s security strategy shifts, armed groups are adapting in response, with consequences that could extend far beyond Mali’s borders.

In 1973, Tom Bradley became L.A.’s. first Black mayor by assembling Black, Jewish, white and Latino liberals into a coalition that ended decades of conservative white rule at City Hall.

Bradley’s election transformed Los Angeles politics and began what has been, for the most part, a 50-year reign of moderate Democrats. Year after year, the election map has changed, but liberal centrists have usually remained on top.

But as Mayor Karen Bass seeks reelection, she is struggling to unite her traditional base as she faces attacks from Democratic Socialists of America Councilwoman Nithya Raman on the left and Republican reality TV star Spencer Pratt on the right.

Some political experts in L.A. say mainstream Democrats are floundering as they try to patch together their coalitions in an era when poll after poll shows the city’s residents frustrated with the status quo.

“Overwhelmingly, Angelenos feel Los Angeles doesn’t work,” said Fernando Guerra, founding director of the Center for the Study of Los Angeles at Loyola Marymount University. “You have this liberal regime that has dominated from ‘73 to ‘26 and it’s stagnant.”

Traditional voting patterns, political experts agree, are unraveling as L.A.’s mounting housing costs create new political fault lines in this city of 3.9 million. The devastating 2025 wildfires, along with enduring problems of homelessness, declining city infrastructure and traffic, have exacerbated discontent.

It’s still possible Bass can pull off reelection in the nonpartisan mayoral race and some coalition of centrist Democrats can survive. But the fact that she is unlikely to avoid a runoff when U.S. incumbents typically win at a 90% rate, Guerra said, shows that L.A.’s mainstream Democratic institutions are hollowing out.

“The problem is not Bass,” Guerra said, adding: “Any regime that lasts for that long begins to fall upon itself. … It stagnates and stops being innovative, and just becomes protective of the ingrained interests that have nurtured that coalition.”

Former L.A. Mayors Antonio Villaraigosa, Eric Garcetti and Richard Riordan.

(Los Angeles Times)

Republicans hope that Pratt’s social-media-fueled critique of L.A. leaders’ failures in emergency preparation and response after the fires and high spending on homeless programs can lead a new generation of conservative Angelenos to the polls.

Most political observers in L.A., however, are confident that the city’s future is not conservative.

The DSA, a decentralized anti-capitalist group, has made inroads in L.A. as it advocates for rental protections, defunding the police and a Green New Deal. Over the last six years, Angelenos have elected four DSA-backed City Council members and a DSA-recommended city controller.

“L.A. is clearly a city that is steadily moving to the left,” said Jim Newton, executive director of UCLA Blueprint magazine and a veteran political journalist who worked for the L.A. Times for 25 years.

“People are unhappy, but they’re not unhappy enough to vote for a Republican,” Guerra agreed. “They have been looking at the other alternatives: the Democratic Socialist party that is the challenge to the establishment.”

Some caution, however, that it is too early to map out Los Angeles’ political future.

Raphael Sonenshein, executive director of the Haynes Foundation and author of “Politics in Black and White: Race and Power in Los Angeles,” said sweeping generational changes are happening in L.A. politics.

“I think everything is up for grabs,” Sonenshein said, noting that he expected more competition for Latino and Asian voters, young voters and even older Democrats. “Certainly, younger voters are completely up for grabs. It’s just hard to know where they’re going to end up. … Small shifts in the primary can make a very big difference.”

L.A. rose as the Republican stronghold of California.

As a massive influx of white Midwesterners descended on L.A. after the 1885 opening of the Santa Fe railroad, conservative white civic leaders — including the owners of the L.A. Times — touted the city as the GOP counterpart to progressive, union-friendly San Francisco. Liberal Black and white Angelenos were shut out of citywide power.

The purpose of the Bradley coalition, Sonenshein said, was to “break open the stranglehold of a city establishment that was … unresponsive to the diversity of the community.”

Bradley, an even-keeled attorney and former police officer, was well positioned to bridge L.A.’s racial divides. As a police community relations officer, he had cultivated relationships with Jewish business owners. He was an early supporter of L.A.’s first Latino City Council member, Edward Roybal, and had already united Black and Jewish Angelenos in the 10th District as the city’s first Black City Council member.

L.A. City Councilman Tom Bradley and Mayor Sam Yorty in a TV studio just before the start of a debate during their 1973 campaign for mayor.

(Los Angeles Times)

After his 1973 win, as waves of new immigrants moved to L.A., Bradley brought more Latinos and Asian Americans into the fold. A conscious alliance of minority communities reelected Bradley, helping him become the longest-serving mayor in L.A. history.

But by the 1990s, frustration had swelled over L.A.’s crime, pollution and poverty. Bradley’s popularity plummeted after Black motorist Rodney King was brutally beaten by LAPD officers in 1991 and riots erupted across the city the next year when a largely white jury acquitted the officers. More than 60 people were killed.

As Bradley prepared to step down, Democrats struggled to find a successor who could unite liberal Black, white, Latino and Asian Angelenos.

Still, some were skeptical that Richard Riordan, a Republican venture capitalist, would win. Riordan was a moderate, easygoing philanthropist, Newton said, and Republicans at the time made up 30% of L.A.’s registered voters, double their number now. Even so, he noted, “there were people who thought this is just not what this city is, the city doesn’t need a multimillionaire white guy Republican.”

Voters thought differently. After securing the support of San Fernando Valley Republicans and Democratic centrists and making small inroads among Latinos, Riordan became the first Republican L.A. mayor elected in 36 years.

The Bradley coalition was “a spent force,” Sonenshein said. “But new players were emerging in prominent roles, working to forge new types of alliances and, at times, temporary coalitions.”

When California voters in 1994 passed the anti-immigrant Proposition 187, which barred undocumented immigrants from receiving many public services, Latino participation in L.A. politics surged. Asian Americans also began to rise.

But after Bradley, there was no single Democratic coalition in the city.

When Antonio Villaraigosa challenged James Hahn in 2001 and 2005, Sonenshein said, Hahn drew support from the Black community and the Valley, Villaraigosa from Latinos and liberals. When Eric Garcetti defeated Wendy Greuel in 2013, Greuel had strong support in Black South L.A., but Garcetti managed to win with the white and Latino vote.

“People have to piece it together, because the Democrats have such a larger edge in L.A. than they did in Bradley’s age,” he said. “It’s almost a kind of entrepreneurial thing: You’ve got to go out and build a majority each time, and those alliances shift.”

There were still challenges from the right. But in 2022, when billionaire real estate developer Rick Caruso ran against Bass on a centrist law-and-order platform, he switched his party affiliation from Republican to Democratic. Some saw that as a recognition that a Republican could not win in L.A.

Bass defeated Caruso by nearly 10 percentage points.

Like Bradley, Bass is a pragmatic politician with a long record of forging relationships behind the scenes.

In the 1990s, she founded the grassroots Community Coalition to combat the public health crises that plagued South L.A. amid the crack-cocaine epidemic.

But as Bass presides over a City Hall that is almost entirely dominated by Democrats, discontent is spreading. Polls show a substantial portion of the electorate views her unfavorably because of her handling of the Palisades fire.

Guerra said the lack of affordable housing had created a unique moment: Even after the King riots, the Northridge earthquake and the O.J. Simpson trial, he said, Angelenos were still invested in living in the city.

“You could still buy a home. You could still see yourself nurturing L.A., but also L.A. nurturing you,” Guerra said.

For Guerra, centrist Democrats have been so successful at inclusion they have struggled to identify priorities.

“There are too many members of the coalition and there are too many of the members who have veto power, which then leads to paralysis,” Guerra said. “The paralysis is what’s led to the lack of innovation, the failure to pursue policies that make sense for the greater good.”

The dysfunction, he said, is particularly clear on housing.

“Every NIMBY in every neighborhood, in every council district, is like, ‘We want housing, but not here,’” Guerra said. “That, replicated everywhere, leads to paralysis and no housing.”

It has also led to renters becoming a rising political constituency — a big shift from the Bradley era, when homeowners were the city’s dominant voters.

But that doesn’t mean working-class Angelenos have a bigger voice now in L.A. politics. Instead, the middle class is splintering along generational lines.

“Middle-class young folks graduating from college, who have extraordinary amounts of debt, cannot buy homes,” said Sara Sadhwani, a politics professor at Pomona College. “The city still has issues with food insecurity and low-wage worker protections, but those are not the issues dominating anymore.”

While L.A. Democrats have long focused on assembling coalitions of Black, Latino, Asian American and other minority activists, Sadhwani said, what was often not spoken about was the role of the city’s “nonprofit industrial complex.”

“Nonprofits have a huge role,” she said, noting that Bass came of that world. “Their politics are shifting.” Before 2020, she said, progressives focused on racial justice, immigration reform, and creating an economy that respects the work of immigrants; now, the focus is largely on homelessness and policing.

“What it means to be a progressive today,” Sadhwani said, “is actually quite different from what it was to be a progressive even just five years ago.”

Even as L.A. is clearly still a Democratic stronghold, Republicans say there are signs that some Angelenos are not in lockstep with liberal activists.

Donald Trump’s share of the vote in L.A. in the last three presidential elections, they note, climbed from 16% in 2016 to 21% in 2020 and 27% in 2024. And there is evidence that voters, at least at the county level, are questioning some criminal justice reforms.

In 2024, L.A. County voters ousted progressive incumbent Dist. Atty. George Gascón, who eliminated cash bail for misdemeanors and nonviolent felonies and championed rehabilitation over punitive sentencing. A majority of county voters also backed Proposition 36, allowing stiffer penalties for crimes of repeat theft and possession of hard drugs.

Los Angeles Mayor Antonio Villaraigosa, pictured here on the cover of Newsweek, helped reshape the city’s Democratic coalition

(David McNew / Getty Images)

With Republicans making up about 15% of L.A.’s registered voters, Rob Stutzman, a GOP strategist, said Pratt might win enough independent voters and disaffected Democrats to make it past the primary. But he would then struggle to get more than 50% in the runoff.

“The math just isn’t there, but in addition to that it’s the stink of Trump,” Stutzman said. “The tribal politics of today make a Republican victory in L.A. very difficult.”

Raman stunned L.A.’s political establishment in 2020 when she was elected L.A.’s first DSA-backed City Council member.

As she runs for mayor, the Los Angeles chapter of the DSA hopes to expand its power as it endorses a new slate of 2026 candidates for City Council, city attorney and L.A. school board.

Richard Riordan, the last elected Republican mayor of Los Angeles.

(Los Angeles Times)

Raman is clearly betting that a big, viable part of the electorate is to Bass’ left, Newton said.

The DSA, Newton said, had done a good job in recent years of identifying renters’ interests and advancing them to usher in a “newer, younger, probably more progressive edge to the city’s politics.”

But so far, Raman, who has aligned herself with the DSA on issues such as renter protections but deviated on police spending, is struggling to unite the organization.

The Harvard and MIT graduate caught the DSA and her fellow City Council members off guard when she entered the mayoral race just before the filing deadline.

In March, the L.A. chapter of the DSA announced it would recommend Raman for mayor, but not formally endorse her. This month, a trio of her fellow DSA-backed City Council members endorsed Bass.

After building momentum, the DSA’s failure to rally around a 2026 mayoral candidate could hurt the movement for several election cycles, Guerra said.

“This dissension is setting them back,“ Guerra said. “They really do have an opportunity to elect a DSA mayor.”

Bass has seized on Raman’s lack of support in City Hall to critique her coalition-building skills.

“If you want to be the mayor and you can’t get along with people who are your colleagues on council,” Bass said recently, “I don’t know how you’re supposed to govern at all.”

In the end, the outcome of L.A.’s mayoral race may not depend so much on Bass’ ability to inspire her traditional Democratic coalition. The question is whether a new generation can find a way to represent a mass of Angelenos with bold new visions and coalitions of their own.