Human Rights

IOM chief calls for ceasefire to allow aid groups to reach Sudanese civilians trapped in war-torn Darfur region.

The head of the United Nations’ migration agency has called for a ceasefire and a humanitarian corridor to help tens of thousands of civilians trapped in el-Fasher, the city in Sudan’s Darfur region that fell to the paramilitary Rapid Support Forces (RSF) last month.

Amy Pope, director-general of the International Organization for Migration (IOM), told Al Jazeera on Wednesday that “the primary concern is getting access” to residents who have been largely cut off from humanitarian aid and services in el-Fasher.

“When humanitarian actors are themselves at risk – when they’re killed, when they’re shot, when they’re detained – we can’t get the people what they need to survive,” Pope said.

“The primary issue is ensuring that there is a ceasefire, a humanitarian corridor, so that aid groups can bring in that aid to the civilians who are very much caught in the middle.”

Human rights groups have accused the RSF, which has been battling the Sudanese Armed Forces (SAF) for control of Sudan since April 2023, of committing widescale massacres in its capture of el-Fasher on October 26.

While thousands of residents remain stuck in el-Fasher, the capital of Sudan’s North Darfur state, nearly 90,000 others have fled since the RSF’s takeover, according to the latest IOM figures.

On Wednesday, Pope said displaced families have described dangerous journeys out of el-Fasher.

“They spoke about seeing dead bodies as they walked. They spoke about having to create makeshift trenches to avoid being shot at, or being harmed by the drones. They spoke of unspeakable, unbearable, sexual trauma [and] sexual abuse,” she said.

“The stories are really harrowing, and they’re happening now even as we speak.”

Her comments come a day after the IOM warned that humanitarian aid efforts in Sudan were “on the brink of collapse” due to continued insecurity and a lack of funding.

“Warehouses are nearly empty, aid convoys face significant insecurity, and access restrictions continue to prevent the delivery of sufficient aid,” the agency said in a statement, noting that violence is also spreading to other parts of the country.

Nearly 39,000 people have fled intense fighting in North Kordofan state, east of el-Fasher, between October 26 and November 9, the IOM said.

Meanwhile, Anna Mutavati, the regional director for East and Southern Africa at UN Women, told reporters this week that women and girls who fled el-Fasher now face serious threats of sexual violence in displacement camps around the city.

“What the women tell us is that … every step that they’ve taken – to fetch water, to collect firewood, or to stand in a food line – is carrying a high risk of sexual violence,” Mutavati said during a news conference in Geneva on Tuesday.

“There is mounting evidence that rape is being deliberately and systematically used as a weapon of war,” she added.

“Women’s bodies … have just become a crime scene in Sudan.”

Cape Town, South Africa – On an August evening in 1977, 30‑year‑old Steve Biko was on his way back from an aborted secret meeting with an anti-apartheid activist in Cape Town, taking the 12‑hour drive back home to King William’s Town. But it was a journey the resistance fighter would never finish, for he was arrested and, less than a month later, was dead.

Against the backdrop of increasingly harsh racist laws in South Africa, Biko, a bold and forthright youth leader, had emerged as one of the loudest voices calling for change and Black self-determination.

A famously charming and eloquent speaker, he was often touted as Nelson Mandela’s likely successor in the struggle for freedom after the core of the anti-apartheid leadership was jailed in the 1960s.

But his popularity also made him a prime target of the apartheid regime, which put him under banning orders that severely restricted his movement, political activities, and associations; imprisoned him for his political activism; and ultimately caused his death in detention – a case that continues to resonate decades later, largely because none of the perpetrators have ever been brought to justice.

On September 12 this year, 48 years after Biko died, South Africa’s Justice Minister Mmamoloko Kubayi ordered a new inquest into his death. The hearing resumed at the Eastern Cape High Court on Wednesday before being postponed to January 30.

There are “two persons of interest” implicated in Biko’s death who are still alive, according to the country’s National Prosecuting Authority (NPA), which aims to determine whether there is enough evidence that he was murdered, and therefore grounds to prosecute his killers.

While Biko’s family has welcomed the hearings, the long wait for justice has been frustrating, especially for his children.

“There is no such thing as joy in dealing with the case of murder,” Nkosinathi Biko, Biko’s eldest son, who was six at the time of his father’s death, told Al Jazeera. “Death is full and final, and no outcome will be restorative of the lost life.”

The Biko inquest is one of several probes into suspicious apartheid-era deaths that South Africa’s justice minister reopened this year. The inquiries are part of the government’s plan to address past atrocities and provide closure to families of the deceased, the NPA says.

But analysts note that the inquest comes amid growing public pressure on the government to bring about the justice it promised 30 years ago, as a new judicial inquiry is also probing allegations that South Africa’s democratic government intentionally blocked prosecutions of apartheid-era crimes.

Biko: ‘The spark that lit a fire’

Steve Biko was a medical student and national youth leader who, in the late 1960s, pioneered the philosophy of Black Consciousness, which encouraged Black people to reclaim their pride and unity by rejecting racial oppression and valuing their own identity and culture.

The philosophy inspired a generation of young activists to take up the struggle against apartheid, pushed forward by the belief that South Africa’s future lay in a socialist economy with a more equal distribution of wealth.

In his writings, Biko said he was inspired by the African independence struggles that emerged in the 1950s and suggested that South Africa had yet to offer its “great gift” to the world: “a more human face”.

By 1972, Biko’s student organisation had spawned a political wing to unify various Black Consciousness groups under one voice. A year later, he was officially banned by the government. Yet, he continued to covertly expand his philosophy and political organising among youth movements across the country.

In August 1977, despite the banning order still being in effect, Biko had travelled to Cape Town with a fellow activist to meet another anti-apartheid leader, though the meeting was aborted over safety concerns, and the duo left.

According to some reports, Biko heavily disguised himself for the road journey back east, but his attempts at going unnoticed were to no avail: When the car reached the outskirts of King William’s Town on August 18, police stopped them at a roadblock – and Biko was discovered.

The two were taken into custody separately, with Biko arrested under the Terrorism Act and first held at a local police station in Port Elizabeth before being transferred to a facility in the same city where members of the police’s “special branch” – notorious for enforcing apartheid through torture and extrajudicial killings – were based. For weeks in detention, he was stripped and manacled and, as was later discovered, tortured.

On September 12, the apartheid authorities announced that Biko had died in detention in Pretoria, some 1,200km (746 miles) away from where he was arrested and held. The minister of justice and police alleged he had died following a hunger strike, a claim immediately decried as false, as Biko had previously publicly stated that if that was ever cited as a cause of his death, it would be a lie.

Weeks later, an independent autopsy conducted at the request of the Biko family found he had died of severe brain damage due to injuries inflicted during his detention. Following these revelations, authorities launched an investigation. But the inquest cleared the police of any wrongdoing.

Saths Cooper, who was a student activist alongside Biko, remembers the moment he found out about his friend’s death. Cooper was in an isolation block on Robben Island – the prison that also held Mandela – where he spent more than five years with other political prisoners who had taken part in the 1976 student revolt.

“The news stilled us into silence,” the 75-year-old told Al Jazeera, recalling Biko’s provocatively “Socratic” style of engagement and echoing Mandela’s description of Biko as an inspiration. “Living, he was the spark that lit a veld fire across South Africa,” Mandela said in 2002. “His message to the youth and students was simple and clear: Black is Beautiful! Be proud of your Blackness! And with that, he inspired our youth to shed themselves of the sense of inferiority they were born into as a result of more than 300 years of white rule.”

After initial shock at the news of Biko’s death, “then the questions flowed of what had occurred,” Cooper recalled, “to which we had no answers.”

About 20,000 people, including Black and white anti-apartheid activists and Western diplomats, attended Biko’s funeral in King Williams Town on September 25. The day included a five-hour service, powerful speeches and freedom songs. Though police disrupted the service and arrested some mourners, it marked the first large political funeral in South Africa.

His death sparked international condemnation, including expression of “concern” from Pretoria’s allies, the US and the UK. It also led to a United Nations arms embargo against South Africa in November 1977.

Three years later, the British singer Peter Gabriel released a song in his honour, and in 1987, his life was depicted in the film Cry Freedom, in which Biko was played by Denzel Washington.

Nevertheless, Biko’s stature did nothing to hasten justice.

‘The unfinished business of the TRC’

Under the apartheid regime, any further investigation into Biko’s death was effectively put to rest for decades following the official 1977 inquest.

Then in 1996, two years after the end of apartheid, the Truth and Reconciliation Commission (TRC) was set up to investigate past rights violations, with apartheid-era perpetrators given the opportunity to disclose their crimes and apply for amnesty from prosecution.

Former security police officers Major Harold Snyman, Captain Daniel Siebert, Warrant Officer Ruben Marx, Warrant Officer Jacobus Beneke and Sergeant Gideon Nieuwoudt – the five men suspected of killing Biko – applied for amnesty.

At TRC hearings the following year, the men said that Biko had died days after what they called “a scuffle” with the police at the Sanlam Building in Port Elizabeth, while he was held in shackles and handcuffs. Up to that point, the commission heard, Biko had spent several days in a cell – naked, they claimed, in order to prevent him from taking his life.

In the decades since, it’s come to light that after being badly beaten at the Sanlam Building on September 6 and 7, Biko suffered a brain haemorrhage and was examined by apartheid government doctors, who said they found nothing wrong with him. Days later, on September 11, the police decided to transfer him to a prison hospital hours away in Pretoria. Still naked and shackled, Biko was put in the back of a van and moved. Although he was examined in Pretoria, it was too late, and Biko died on September 12 alone in his cell.

Despite admitting to beating Biko with a hose pipe and noticing his disoriented, slurred speech, the former officers claimed at the TRC that they had no indication of the severity of his injuries. Therefore, they saw nothing wrong with transporting him 1,200km away.

Eventually, the men were denied amnesty in 1999, partly for their lack of full disclosure of the events that caused Biko’s death. The suspected killers, some of whom have since died, were recommended for prosecution by the commission.

However, like most TRC cases, the prosecutions never materialised.

“The Biko case, along with others, must be viewed as the delayed activation of the unfinished business of the TRC – a matter that is a national imperative if we are to instigate a culture of accountability in South Africa,” Nkosinathi, now 54, said of the reopened inquest into his father’s death.

Though the scope of the Biko inquest has not been publicly stated, Gabriel Crouse, a political analyst and fellow with the South African Institute for Race Relations, worries that it will not examine new evidence, but that its goal will simply be to decisively determine whether Biko was murdered.

If this is the case, it would leave many questions unresolved, he says. For example, who pressured the initial forensic pathologist to declare a hunger strike as the cause of death; who ordered Biko’s killing; and what was the official chain of command?

‘The worms are among us’

Although the Biko inquest has renewed hope among his family that some of the perpetrators of his death will finally be brought to justice, analysts warn that the process may reveal uncomfortable truths about the nation’s past – including possible collusion between South Africa’s current government and the apartheid regime.

Nkosinathi now heads a foundation that promotes his father’s legacy. He points out that it is only pressure on the government that brought about this moment.

Months before the Biko inquest reopened, President Cyril Ramaphosa ordered the establishment of a commission of inquiry into whether previous governments led by his African National Congress (ANC) party intentionally suppressed investigations and prosecutions of apartheid-era crimes.

His move in April came after 25 survivors and relatives of victims of apartheid-era crimes launched a court case against his government in January, seeking damages.

The allegations of probes being blocked go back more than a decade. In 2015, former national prosecutions chief Vusi Pikoli caused a stir when he submitted an affidavit in a court case about the death of anti-apartheid fighter Nokuthula Simelane, in which he blamed the stalled cases on senior government officials interfering in the work of the NPA.

Former President Thabo Mbeki, who was head of state during Pikoli’s tenure, has denied that any such political interference took place. But the judicial inquiry, announced in April and now under way, lists former senior officials among those it considers interested parties.

The inquiry will look at why so few of the 300 cases that the TRC referred to the NPA for prosecution, including Biko’s, have been investigated in the last two decades.

“That it has become necessary to have to look into such an allegation tells much about how the huge sacrifice that was made for our democracy has been betrayed,” Nkosinathi told Al Jazeera.

Cooper believes the delayed prosecutions are a result of a compromise made by the apartheid regime and the ANC to conceal one another’s offences, including alleged cases of freedom fighters colluding with the white minority government.

“It’s justice clearly denied,” Cooper said, adding that he once questioned TRC commissioners about why they had concealed the names of rumoured apartheid-era collaborators who went on to work in the new democratic government. “The response was, ‘Broer, it’ll open a can of worms,’” Cooper told Al Jazeera.

“I see one of the commissioners died, the other is around, and when I see him, I say, ‘There’s no more can of worms, the worms are among us.’”

Like Cooper, political analyst Crouse also believes some kind of “backdoor deal” was struck following the transition from apartheid to democracy in 1994.

Many political actors failed to apply for amnesty, he says, despite prima facie evidence of their guilt. “And so it became very apparent that white Afrikaner supremacists and Black ANC liberationists, some from both camps, had gotten together and said, ‘Let’s both keep each other’s secrets and go forward into the new South Africa on that basis,’” he said.

Pikoli’s 2015 affidavit seems to echo such analysis. In his document, Pikoli recalls a meeting in 2006, where former ministers grilled him about the prosecution of suspects implicated in the attempted murder of Mbeki’s former chief of staff, Frank Chikane. Pikoli does not specify what the ministers objected to but says it became clear they did not want the suspects prosecuted “due to their fear of opening the door to prosecutions of ANC members, including government officials.”

A plea bargain was struck with the suspects while Pikoli was on leave in July 2007, as part of which the suspects refused to reveal the masterminds behind the compilation of a hit-list targeting activists. Pikoli believes a court trial would have forced them to disclose more details.

‘A stress test’ for democratic South Africa

Mariam Jooma Carikci, an independent researcher who has written extensively about the failure of justice in the democratic era, believes the official inquiry into the hundreds of unprosecuted TRC cases, including Biko’s, is “a stress test” of democratic South Africa’s honesty.

“For three decades we treated reconciliation as an end in itself – truth commissions instead of prosecutions, memorials instead of justice,” she said.

She sees Biko’s ideas continuing to flourish in today’s student movements, for example, in the #FeesMustFall campaign that called for free university tuition and the decolonisation of education in 2015.

“You see his echo in decolonisation debates and student movements, but the truest honour is policy – land, work, education, healthcare – designed around human worth, not investor or political comfort,” Jooma Carikci said.

While the country waits to hear the outcomes of the Biko inquest and the wider TRC inquiry, Nkosinathi Biko remains haunted by constant reminders of his father.

His younger brother Samora, who recently turned 50, looks exactly like Biko, he says, but being only two at the time of his death, “he was unfortunate not to have had memories of his father because of what happened.”

Meanwhile, for the country in general, Nkosinathi sees connections between Biko’s death and the 2012 Marikana massacre, during which police shot and killed 34 striking miners – the highest death toll from police aggression in democratic South Africa.

In his mind, the image of police opening fire on unarmed protesting workers echoes the country’s dark history – a sign that the state brutality that ended his father’s life has spilled over into democratic South Africa.

In a remote and silent region, thousands of innocent lives have been lost for the sake of a country’s interests. The silence of Sudan has become a global tragedy, with more than 60,000 people killed and more than 11 million displaced. Yet the world seems silent and mute, as if they are ‘invisible.’

Is empathy for a life that is not recognized by digital algorithms so low?

This question seems to haunt me every time I open social media. I see many people around me who do not even know what is happening in Sudan. Their social media timelines never show any news or posts about it, as if nothing is happening. In fact, thousands of lives are lost there every day. This shows that digital empathy is highly controlled by algorithms on social media, which determine what should be visible and what should be left to sink into silence.

During a class discussion a few days ago, I realized that to attract empathy from the digital community, conflicts and global issues are influenced by hashtags used by prominent figures on social media. When they raise the issue of Gaza, the whole world will talk about it, so that issues that are invisible to them, such as Sudan, will never be seen by algorithms and will have an impact on the digital empathy of the community.

In her study, Zeynep Tufekci (2017) states that social media algorithms create filter bubbles, where users are exposed to information that confirms their views, while alternative views are ignored. This further shows that digital empathy is highly controlled by algorithms on social media. Thus, when information does not align with the algorithms and their behavior on social media, it is ignored. In other words, the digital world creates inequality in the space of empathy, where certain issues, such as Sudan, which are not included in social media algorithms, will remain buried and forgotten because they do not meet the logic of virality.

This phenomenon not only reveals the weakness of digital empathy but also how it shapes the hierarchy of humanity in the digital space. Safiya Umoja Noble (2018), in The Algorithm of Oppression, argues that social media algorithms are not neutral but refer to the interests within them. Social media search engines prioritize certain issues and promote websites that lead to a set of biased algorithms, ignoring issues that should be of global concern. As a result, a hierarchy of global empathy towards certain issues is formed, whereby issues that do not align with economic or political interests, such as Sudan, will never gain traction in the global arena.

The impact of this algorithmic bias is very real. The conflict in Sudan is an extreme example of the existence of a ‘Digital Empathy Hierarchy’ where only issues that receive a lot of response are considered important, while issues that do not receive much response and global attention are easily ignored. Hashtags such as #AllEyesOnRafah managed to capture the world’s attention, while hashtags such as #Sudan and #Sudanese only received brief attention and then disappeared into silence. In fact, the suffering in Sudan is no less tragic than what is being widely discussed, but the public seems to turn a blind eye, creating injustice in the digital space and allowing empathy to be controlled by invisible algorithms.

The agenda-setting theory states that the media can shape public opinion by determining which issues receive the most attention. It has been widely studied and applied to various forms of media, which easily gain global attention and are considered important by the international community. However, when issues in Sudan are not reported, people consider them unimportant, and the media agenda for Sudan is low, resulting in a low public agenda for Sudanese issues.

Sociologist Zygmunt Bauman (1993) states that moral distance causes people to lack a sense of responsibility to care about the suffering of others who are geographically and symbolically distant from them. This moral distance creates digital inequality because algorithms are increasingly widening, making it easy to dismiss information that does not attract mass attention. This imbalance in empathy and morality reflects the worsening humanitarian reality in Sudan. According to the OCHA report (2025), Sudan is facing the worst crisis in its history, with 30.4 million people, more than half of Sudan’s population, in dire need of humanitarian aid. Of that number, 16 million are children who are Sudan’s future generation. However, despite the large number of victims, Sudan remains invisible and neglected by a world that seems to prefer to remain silent.

Data from DataReportal (2025) shows that Sudan had 3.68 million social media users in January 2025, equivalent to 7.2 percent of the total population. Digital access in Sudan is indeed open and increasing, but the volume of discussion about Sudan is very small and even inaudible. This further proves that there is a paradox in the digital world, where the more connected humans are, the more disconnected they become from real empathy. This humanitarian crisis requires a response and support from the global media, but as long as everything is determined by algorithmic biases that are considered uninteresting to gain global attention and international support, then hundreds of lives lost and the suffering of the Sudanese people will be lost in silence and invisibility.

If issues that are considered important are only viewed in terms of their magnitude and depend on digital hierarchy algorithms, then humanity’s morals are declining. International organizations controlled by countries with political interests are increasingly eager to create narratives that seem to say that an issue is considered unimportant because it does not benefit them. This pattern slows down the response of international organizations in addressing issues due to digital inequality that creates a hierarchy that will continue to exist, leaving those who are suffering further behind and forgotten.

Many Sudanese people are waiting for hope and support from the global community, but they seem indifferent and uncaring towards the suffering experienced by Sudan. Even in classroom learning, issues that are not widely discussed on social media are often not discussed, and this is very much at odds with the sense of humanity that should be fundamental to international relations students.

As an international relations student, I understand that in this world, everything is determined by interests, power, and algorithms that appear in digital media. Conflicts that are ‘uninteresting’ in the digital space become irrelevant to those with political interests. However, we have a responsibility to eliminate this inequality and moral decline. If social media cannot create algorithms to raise these issues, then we must be the ones to take the lead in continuing to voice these issues in public until the world realizes that there are important issues that must be raised.

Because in truth, Sudan is not invisible, but we are the ones who choose not to see it.

Polls find large majorities of people in the US oppose military action against Venezuela, where Trump has ramped up military pressure.

Republicans in the United States Senate have voted down legislation that would have required US President Donald Trump to obtain congressional approval for any military attacks on Venezuela.

Two Republicans had crossed the political aisle and joined Democrats to vote in favour of the legislation on Thursday, but their support was not enough to secure passage, and the bill failed to pass by 51 to 49 votes.

“We should not be going to war without a vote of Congress,” Democratic Senator Tim Kaine said during a speech.

The vote comes amid a US military build-up off South America and a series of military strikes targeting vessels in international waters off Venezuela and Colombia that have killed at least 65 people.

The US has alleged, without presenting evidence, that the boats it bombed were transporting drugs, but Latin American leaders, some members of Congress, international law experts and family members of the deceased have described the US attacks as extrajudicial killings, claiming most of those killed were fishermen.

Fears are now growing that Trump will use the military deployment in the region – which includes thousands of US troops, a nuclear submarine and a group of warships accompanying the USS Gerald R Ford, the US Navy’s most sophisticated aircraft carrier – to launch an attack on Venezuela in a bid to oust President Nicolas Maduro.

Washington has accused Maduro of drug trafficking, and Trump has hinted at carrying out attacks on Venezuelan soil.

Senator Adam Schiff, a California Democrat, referencing Trump’s military posturing towards Venezuela, said on Thursday: “It’s really an open secret that this is much more about potential regime change.”

“If that’s where the administration is headed, if that’s what we’re risking – involvement in a war – then Congress needs to be heard on this,” he said.

Earlier on Thursday, a pair of US B-52 bombers flew over the Caribbean Sea along the coast of Venezuela, flight tracking data showed.

Data from tracking website Flightradar24 showed the two bombers flying parallel to the Venezuelan coast, then circling northeast of Caracas before heading back along the coast and turning north and flying further out to sea.

The presence of the US bombers off Venezuela was at least the fourth time that US military aircraft have flown near the country’s borders since mid-October, with B-52s having done so on one previous occasion, and B-1B bombers on two other occasions.

Little public support in US for attack on Venezuela

A recent poll found that only 18 percent of people in the US support even limited use of military force to overthrow Maduro’s government.

Research by YouGov also found that 74 percent of people in the US believe that the president should not be able to carry out military strikes abroad without congressional approval, in line with the requirements of the US Constitution.

Republican lawmakers, however, have embraced the recent strikes on vessels in the Caribbean and Pacific, adopting the Trump administration’s framing of its efforts to cut off the flow of narcotics to the US.

Questions of the legality of such attacks, either under US or international law, do not appear to be of great concern to many Republicans.

“President Trump has taken decisive action to protect thousands of Americans from lethal narcotics,” Senator Jim Risch, the Republican chair of the Senate Foreign Relations Committee, said in remarks declaring his support for the strikes.

While only two Republicans – Senators Rand Paul and Lisa Murkowski – defected to join Democrats in supporting the legislation to limit Trump’s ability to wage war unilaterally on Thursday, some conservatives have expressed frustration with a possible war on Venezuela.

Trump had campaigned for president on the promise of withdrawing the US from foreign military entanglements.

In recent years, Congress has made occasional efforts to reassert itself and impose restraints on foreign military engagements through the War Powers Resolution of 1973, which reaffirmed that Congress alone has the power to declare war.

After months of blockade and starvation in Gaza, Israel allowed a new United States venture – the Gaza Humanitarian Foundation (GHF) – to distribute food. Branded as a lifeline, its sites quickly became known by Palestinians and dozens of human rights groups as “death traps”.

Fault Lines investigates how civilians seeking aid were funnelled through militarised zones, where thousands were killed or injured under fire.

Through the testimonies of grieving families, a former contractor, and human rights experts, the film exposes how GHF’s operations replaced UNRWA’s proven aid system with a scheme critics say was designed for displacement, not relief. At the heart of this investigation is a haunting question: was GHF delivering humanitarian aid – or helping turn breadlines into killing fields?

A months-long siege on the Malian capital, Bamako, by the armed al-Qaeda affiliate group, Jama’at Nusrat al-Islam wal-Muslimin (JNIM), has brought the city to breaking point, causing desperation among residents and, according to analysts, placing increasing pressure on the military government to negotiate with the group – something it has refused to do before now.

JNIM’s members have created an effective economic and fuel blockade by sealing off major highways used by tankers to transport fuel from neighbouring Senegal and the Ivory Coast to the landlocked Sahel country since September.

While JNIM has long laid siege to towns in other parts of the country, this is the first time it has used the tactic on the capital city.

The scale of the blockade, and the immense effect it has had on the city, is a sign of JNIM’s growing hold over Mali and a step towards the group’s stated aim of government change in Mali, Beverly Ochieng, Sahel analyst with intelligence firm Control Risks, told Al Jazeera.

For weeks, most of Bamako’s residents have been unable to buy any fuel for cars or motorcycles as supplies have dried up, bringing the normally bustling capital to a standstill. Many have had to wait in long fuel queues. Last week, the United States and the United Kingdom both advised their citizens to leave Mali and evacuated non-essential diplomatic staff.

Other Western nations have also advised their citizens to leave the country. Schools across Mali have closed and will remain shut until November 9 as staff struggle to commute. Power cuts have intensified.

Here’s what we know about the armed group responsible and why it appears to have Mali in a chokehold:

What is JNIM?

JNIM is the Sahel affiliate of al-Qaeda and the most active armed group in the region, according to conflict monitor ACLED. The group was formed in 2017 as a merger between groups that were formerly active against French and Malian forces that were first deployed during an armed rebellion in northern Mali in 2012. They include Algeria-based al-Qaeda in the Maghreb (AQIM) and three Malian armed groups – Ansar Dine, Al-Murabitun and Katiba Macina.

JNIM’s main aim is to capture and control territory and to expel Western influences in its region of control. Some analysts suggest that JNIM may be seeking to control major capitals and, ultimately, to govern the country as a whole.

It is unclear how many fighters the group has. The Washington Post has reported estimates of about 6,000, citing regional and western officials.

However, Ulf Laessing, Sahel analyst at the German think tank, Konrad Adenauer Stiftung (KAS), said JNIM most likely does not yet have the military capacity to capture large, urban territories that are well protected by soldiers. He also said the group would struggle to appeal to urban populations who may not hold the same grievances against the government as some rural communities.

While JNIM’s primary base is Mali, KAS revealed in a report that the group has Algerian roots via its members of the Algeria-based al-Qaeda in the Maghreb (AQIM).

The group is led by Iyad Ag-Ghali, a Malian and ethnic Tuareg from Mali’s northern Kidal region who founded Ansar Dine in 2012. That group’s stated aim was to impose its interpretation of Islamic law across Mali.

Ghali had previously led Tuareg uprisings against the Malian government, which is traditionally dominated by the majority Bambara ethnic group, in the early 1990s, demanding the creation of a sovereign country called Azawad.

However, he reformed his image by acting as a negotiator between the government and the rebels. In 2008, he was posted as a Malian diplomat to Saudi Arabia under the government of Malian President Amadou Toumani Toure. When another rebellion began in 2012, however, Ghali sought a leadership role with the rebels but was rebuffed, leading him to create Ansar Dine.

According to the US Department of National Intelligence (DNI), Ghali has stated that JNIM’s strategy is to expand its presence across West Africa and to put down government forces and rival armed groups, such as the Mali-based Islamic State Sahel, through guerrilla-style attacks and the use of improvised explosive devices (IEDs).

Simultaneously, it attempts to engage with local communities by providing them with material resources. Strict dress codes and bans on music are common in JNIM-controlled areas.

JNIM also destroys infrastructure, such as schools, communication towers and bridges, to weaken the government off the battlefield.

An overall death toll is unclear, but the group has killed thousands of people since 2017. Human rights groups accuse it of attacking civilians, especially people perceived to be assisting government forces. JNIM activity in Mali caused 207 deaths between January and April this year, according to ACLED data.

How has JNIM laid siege to Bamako?

JNIM began blocking oil tankers carrying fuel to Bamako in September.

That came after the military government in Bamako banned small-scale fuel sales in all rural areas – except at official service stations – from July 1. Usually, in these areas, traders can buy fuel in jerry cans, which they often resell later.

The move to ban this was aimed at crippling JNIM’s operations in its areas of control by limiting its supply lines and, thus, its ability to move around.

At the few places where fuel is still available in Bamako, prices soared last week by more than 400 percent, from $25 to $130 per litre ($6.25-$32.50 per gallon). Prices of transportation, food and other commodities have risen due to the crisis, and power cuts have been frequent.

Some car owners have simply abandoned their vehicles in front of petrol stations, with the military government threatening on Wednesday to impound them to ease traffic and reduce security risks.

A convoy of 300 fuel tankers reached Bamako on October 7, and another one with “dozens” of vehicles arrived on October 30, according to a government statement. Other attempts to truck in more fuel have met obstacles, however, as JNIM members ambush military-escorted convoys on highways and shoot at or kidnap soldiers and civilians.

Even as supplies in Bamako dry up, there are reports of JNIM setting fire to about 200 fuel tankers in southern and western Mali. Videos circulating on Malian social media channels show rows of oil tankers burning on a highway.

What is JNIM trying to achieve with this blockade?

Laessing of KAS said the group is probably hoping to leverage discontent with the government in the already troubled West African nation to put pressure on the military government to negotiate a power-sharing deal of sorts.

“They want to basically make people as angry as possible,” he said. “They could [be trying] to provoke protests which could bring down the current government and bring in a new one that’s more favourable towards them.”

Ochieng of Control Risks noted that, in its recent statements, JNIM has explicitly called for government change. While the previous civilian government of President Ibrahim Boubacar Keita (2013-2020) had negotiated with JNIM, the present government of Colonel Assimi Goita will likely keep up its military response, Ochieng said.

Frustration at the situation is growing in Bamako, with residents calling for the government to act.

Speaking to Al Jazeera, driver Omar Sidibe said the military leaders ought to find out the reasons for the shortage and act on them. “It’s up to the government to play a full role and take action [and] uncover the real reason for this shortage.”

Which parts of Mali is the JNIM active in?

In Mali, the group operates in rural areas of northern, central and western Mali, where there is a reduced government presence and high discontent with the authorities among local communities.

In the areas it controls, JNIM presents itself as an alternative to the government, which it calls “puppets of the West”, in order to recruit fighters from several ethnic minorities which have long held grievances over their perceived marginalisation by the government, including the Tuareg, Arab, Fulani, and Songhai groups. Researchers note the group also has some members from the majority Bambara group.

In central Mali, the group seized Lere town last November and captured the town of Farabougou in August this year. Both are small towns, but Farabougou is close to Wagadou Forest, a known hiding place of JNIM.

JNIM’s hold on major towns is weaker because of the stronger government presence in larger areas. It therefore more commonly blockades major towns or cities by destroying roads and bridges leading to them. Currently, the western cities of Nioro and gold-rich Kayes are cut off. The group is also besieging the major cities of Timbuktu and Gao, as well as Menaka and Boni towns, located in the north and northeast.

How is JNIM funded?

For revenue, the group oversees artisanal gold mines, forcefully taxes community members, smuggles weapons and kidnaps foreigners for ransom, according to the US DNI. Kayes region, whose capital, Kayes, is under siege, is a major gold hub, accounting for 80 percent of Mali’s gold production, according to conflict monitoring group Critical Threats.

The Global Initiative Against Transnational Organised Crime (Gi-Toc) also reports cattle rustling schemes, estimating that JNIM made 91,400 euros ($104,000) in livestock sales of cattle between 2017 and 2019. Cattle looted in Mali are sold cheaply in communities on the border with Ghana and the Ivory Coast, through a complex chain of intermediaries.

In which other countries is JNIM active?

JNIM expanded into Burkina Faso in 2017 by linking up with Burkina-Faso-based armed group Ansarul-Islam, which pledged allegiance to the Malian group. Ansarul-Islam was formed in 2016 by Ibrahim Dicko, who had close ties with Amadou Koufa, JNIM’s deputy head since 2017.

In Burkina Faso, JNIM uses similar tactics of recruiting from marginalised ethnic groups. The country has rapidly become a JNIM hotspot, with the group operating – or holding territory – in 11 of 13 Burkina Faso regions outside of capital Ouagadougou. There were 512 reported casualties as a result of JNIM violence in the country between January and April this year. It is not known how many have died as a result of violence by the armed group in total.

Since 2022, JNIM has laid siege to the major northern Burkinabe city of Djibo, with authorities forced to airlift in supplies. In a notable attack in May 2025, JNIM fighters overran a military base in the town, killing approximately 200 soldiers. It killed a further 60 in Solle, about 48km (30 miles) west of Djibo.

In October 2025, the group temporarily took control of Sabce town, also located in the north of Burkina Faso, killing 11 police officers in the process, according to the International Crisis Group.

In a September report, Human Rights Watch said JNIM and a second armed group – Islamic State Sahel, which is linked to ISIL (ISIS) – massacred civilians in Burkina Faso between May and September, including a civilian convoy trying to transport humanitarian aid into the besieged northern town of Gorom Gorom.

Meanwhile, JNIM is also moving southwards, towards other West African nations with access to the sea. It launched an offensive on Kafolo town, in northern Ivory Coast, in 2020.

JNIM members embedded in national parks on the border regions with Burkina Faso have been launching sporadic attacks in northern Togo and the Benin Republic since 2022.

In October this year, it recorded its first attack on the Benin-Nigeria border, where one Nigerian policeman was killed. The area is not well-policed because the two countries have no established military cooperation, analyst Ochieng said.

“This area is also quite a commercially viable region; there are mining and other developments taking place there … it is likely to be one that [JNIM] will try to establish a foothold,” she added.

Why are countries struggling to fend off JNIM?

When Mali leader General Assimi Goita led soldiers to seize power in a 2020 coup, military leaders promised to defeat the armed group, as well as a host of others that had been on the rise in the country. Military leaders subsequently seizing power from civilian governments in Burkina Faso (2022) and in Niger (2023) have made the same promises.

However, Mali and its neighbours have struggled to hold JNIM at bay, with ACLED data noting the number of JNIM attacks increasing notably since 2020.

In 2022, Mali’s military government ended cooperation with 4,000-strong French forces deployed in 2013 to battle armed groups which had emerged at the time, as well as separatist Tuaregs in the north. The last group of French forces exited the country in August 2022.

Mali also terminated contracts with a 10,000-man UN peacekeeping force stationed in the country in 2023.

Bamako is now working with Russian fighters – initially 1,500 from the Wagner Mercenary Group, but since June, from the Kremlin-controlled Africa Corps – estimated to be about 1,000 in number.

Russian officials are, to a lesser extent, also present in Burkina Faso and Niger, which have formed the Alliance of Sahel States (AES) with Mali.

Results in Mali have been mixed. Wagner supported the Malian military in seizing swaths of land in the northern Kidal region from Tuareg rebels.

But the Russians also suffered ambushes. In July 2024, a contingent of Wagner and Malian troops was ambushed by rebels in Tinzaouaten, close to the Algerian border. Between 20 and 80 Russians and 25 to 40 Malians were killed, according to varying reports. Researchers noted it was Wagner’s worst defeat since it had deployed to West Africa.

In all, Wagner did not record much success in targeting armed groups like JNIM, analyst Laessing told Al Jazeera.

Alongside Malian forces, the Russians have also been accused by rights groups of committing gross human rights violations against rural communities in northern Mali perceived to be supportive of armed groups.

Could the Russian Africa Corps fighters end the siege on Bamako?

Laessing said the fuel crisis is pressuring Mali to divert military resources and personnel to protect fuel tankers, keeping them from consolidating territory won back from armed groups and further endangering the country.

He added that the crisis will be a test for Russian Africa Corp fighters, who have not proven as ready as Wagner fighters to take battle risks. A video circulating on Russian social media purports to show Africa Corps members providing air support to fuel tanker convoys. It has not been verified by Al Jazeera.

“If they can come in and allow the fuel to flow into Bamako, then the Russians will be seen as heroes,” Laessing said – at least by locals.

Laessing added that the governments of Mali and Burkina Faso, in the medium to long term, might eventually have to negotiate with JNIM to find a way to end the crisis.

While Goita’s government has not attempted to hold talks with the group in the past, in early October, it greenlit talks led by local leaders, according to conflict monitoring group Critical Threats – although it is unclear exactly how the government gave its approval.

Agreements between the group and local leaders have reportedly already been signed in several towns across Segou, Mopti and Timbuktu regions, in which the group agrees to end its siege in return for the communities agreeing to JNIM rules, taxes, and noncooperation with the military.

Authors: Christopher Jackson and Aaron Spitler*

Digital technologies, particularly AI, are accelerating democratic backsliding and revitalizing authoritarian governments. AI-focused companies have been forming close partnerships with government actors, often in ways that undermine democratic norms. Around the world, private firms are supplying or co-designing technologies that enhance mass surveillance, predictive policing, propaganda campaigns, and online censorship. In places like China, Russia, and Egypt, a blurring of boundaries between the state and the technology industry has led to serious consequences. This collusion has undercut privacy rights, stifled civil society, and diminished public accountability.

This dynamic is now playing out in the United States. Companies like Palantir and Paragon Solutions are providing government entities with powerful AI tools and analytics platforms, often under opaque contracts. In September, U.S. President Donald Trump approved the sale of TikTok to U.S. private entities friendly with the administration. Unchecked public-private integration within the technology industry poses serious risks for democratic societies, namely that it offers increased power to unaccountable actors. The focus of this article is to examine case studies on how these emerging alliances are enabling authoritarian practices, as well as what they might mean for the future of democratic societies.

Russia: Manipulating Digital Tools

In Russia, democratic norms under Vladimir Putin have eroded while Russian tech companies continue to work hand in glove with state authorities. Sberbank, the country’s largest financial institution, and their development of Kandinsky 2.1, an AI-powered, text-to-image tool owned by the firm, illustrate this long-running trend.

Despite the quality of its outputs compared to rivals like DALL-E, the solution came under fire in 2023 from veteran lawmaker Sergey Mironov, who argued that it generated images that tarnished Russia’s image. He would go on to charge that Kandinsky 2.1 was designed by “unfriendly states waging an informational and mental war” against the country.

Not long after, some in the tech space noticed that Kandinsky 2.1’s outputs changed. For instance, while the tool previously churned out images of zombies when prompted with “Z Patriot,” users noted that it now repeatedly produced pictures of hyper-masculine figures. Critics claim that this alteration not only represented an overt manipulation of the technology itself but also an attempt to curry favor with those in the government.

This episode shows how AI-powered tools are being specifically tailored to serve the needs of authorities. The modifications made to the model transformed it into an invaluable resource the government could use to amplify its messaging. As a result, users are no longer likely to see Kandinsky 2.1 as a tool for creativity, particularly if its outputs remain blatantly skewed. Developers in countries like Russia may look to this case for inspiration on how to succeed in restrictive political contexts.