Across the vast, red dust plains of the Sahel, amidst the remote battlegrounds unseen by many in Europe, Mali is now confronting a harsh truth: dismissing those who previously guarded the front lines against escalating chaos carries severe repercussions.

The recent wave of attacks devastating the nation is neither accidental nor a matter of fate. Instead, these incidents are the anticipated outcome of a political severance, proudly presented as an assertion of sovereignty. This proclaimed sovereignty, heavily amplified by anti-French rhetoric, has become a tool for internal legitimization.

Bamako desired the French departure, and Bamako achieved it.

The final French convoys departed from Gao, Tessalit, and Ménaka, met by jeers from a segment of the public, inflamed by years of accusatory narratives. At that time, operational realities held little sway. It seemed insignificant that in 2013, when jihadist columns threatened to advance southwards, it was French forces that halted the imminent collapse of the Malian state.

President Emmanuel Macron delivered a stark, almost dispassionate reminder: « Mali did not make the best decision by expelling the French army ». A simple, almost clinical statement, yet one that today resonates with undeniable strategic clarity.

The French head of state has never denied past French missteps. He acknowledges that Paris at times overestimated the effectiveness of military solutions, failing to push for essential local political reforms. However, on one crucial point, the President remains unwavering: without French intervention, Mali could have descended into ruin. He previously stated unequivocally: « Without France, Mali would no longer be a unified state ».

This fundamental truth now appears to be resurfacing with brutal force.

The ground reality, however, is impervious to slogans or posturing. Once French bases were vacated, the security vacuum became starkly apparent. Groups affiliated with Al-Qaeda and the Islamic State swiftly moved to exploit these vulnerabilities. Where Barkhane once contained, monitored, engaged, and gathered intelligence, Malian authorities now struggle to maintain lasting control over their territory.

Behind this unfolding sequence lies a memory that should not be forgotten.

Fifty-eight French soldiers perished in the Sahel.

Fifty-eight individuals lost their lives in a conflict that was neither abstract nor theoretical. They fell in Kidal, in the Adrar des Ifoghas, in In Delimane, on mined roads, during nocturnal operations, under scorching temperatures, and against an elusive, mobile enemy.

These soldiers were not occupiers. They were not colonial predators disguised in militant fiction. They were the instruments of a military commitment undertaken by the Republic to prevent the formation of a terrorist sanctuary at the heart of the Sahel.

They paid the ultimate price.

Their sacrifice demands at least one imperative: that their memory not be dissolved by ideological oversimplifications.

Yes, France made errors. But for years, it also bore, almost alone, a colossal military effort to preserve an already precarious regional balance.

Mali chose to break from this security architecture in the name of proclaimed independence. It must now face the consequences.

Emmanuel Macron, in stating that Bamako had not made « the best decision », was not expressing post-colonial resentment or sentimental regret. He was merely observing what reality now cruelly confirms: in certain parts of the world, declared sovereignty alone is insufficient to contain jihadist columns.

For France, the Sahel proved to be a theatre of diplomatic attrition.

But for the French soldiers, it remains something else entirely: a field of honor.

And that honor is not subject to the shifting winds of public opinion.