Mali’s Blocked Transition: Five Years of Deepening Authoritarianism

• Opinion by Inés M. Pousadela (montevideo, uruguay)
• Friday, October 03, 2025
• Inter Press Service

MONTEVIDEO, Uruguay, October 3 (IPS) – When Mali’s former Prime Minister Moussa Mara stood trial in Bamako’s cybercrime court on 29 September, charged with undermining state authority for expressing solidarity^[1] with political prisoners on social media, his prosecution represented far more than one person’s fate. It epitomised how thoroughly the military junta has dismantled Mali’s democratic foundations, five years after seizing power with promises of swift reform.

Just a week before Mara’s trial, Mali joined fellow military-run states Burkina Faso and Niger in announcing immediate withdrawal^[2] from the International Criminal Court (ICC). Although the withdrawal won’t take effect for a year and the ICC retains jurisdiction over past crimes, the message was unmistakable: Mali’s military rulers intend to operate beyond international legal constraints.

This follows a pattern of escalating repression, including arrests of senior generals and civilians^[3] over alleged conspiracy in August, coming months after sweeping decrees outlawed political parties^[4] and dissolved all organised opposition. Rather than preparing for the democratic handover initially promised for 2022 and repeatedly postponed, the junta is methodically shutting down what remains of Mali’s civic space.

A transition derailed

When General Assimi Goïta first seized power in August 2020 following mass protests over corruption and insecurity, he pledged to oversee a quick return to civilian rule. But less than a year later, he staged a second coup^[5] to sideline transitional civilian leaders. In 2023, the junta organised a constitutional referendum^[6], claiming it would pave the way to democracy. The new constitution, supposedly approved by 97 per cent of voters, provided for significantly strengthened presidential powers while conveniently granting amnesty to coup participants. Deadlines for elections kept slipping, and they’re now effectively off the table until at least 2030.

A national consultation held in April, boycotted^[7] by virtually all major political parties, recommended^[8] appointing Goïta as president for a renewable five-year term until 2030, obviously contradicting^[9] any pledges to restore multi-party democracy.

An all-out assault on political parties ensued. Presidential decrees^[10] in May suspended^[11] all parties, revoked^[12] the 2005 Charter of Political Parties^[13] that provided the legal framework for political competition and dissolved^[14] close to 300 parties^[15], forbidding all meetings or activities under threat of prosecution. Courts predictably rejected^[16] appeals, having become beholden to the executive under the 2023 constitutional changes that gave Goïta absolute control^[17] over Supreme Court appointments. The regime announced^[18] a new law on political parties to sharply restrict their number and impose stricter formation requirements, making clear it wants a tightly managed political landscape stripped of genuine pluralism.

Crushing civic freedoms

The assault on civic space extends beyond political parties. The junta has suspended^[19] civil society groups receiving foreign funding, imposed stringent regulatory controls and introduced draft legislation aimed at taxing^[20] civil society organisations. Independent media face systematic silencing through licence suspensions^[21] and revocations^[22], astronomic increases^[23] in licence fees and weaponised cybercrime laws targeting journalists with vague charges such as undermining state credibility and spreading false information. Religious figures, opposition leaders and civil society activists have faced arrests, enforced disappearances^[24] and show trials.

The crackdown sparked the first major public resistance^[25] to military rule since 2020, with thousands protesting^[26] in Bamako in early May against the party ban and extension of Goïta’s mandate, only to be dispersed^[27] with teargas. Planned follow-up protests were cancelled after organisers received warnings of violent retaliation. The regime has made clear it won’t tolerate peaceful dissent.

What lies ahead

Five years after seizing power, Mali keeps taking the opposite path to democracy. The initial coup enjoyed some popular support, fuelled by anger at corruption and the civilian government’s failure to address jihadist insurgencies. But no improvements have come. Jihadist groups are still killing thousands every year, while the Malian army and its new Russian mercenary allies, following the departure of French and allied forces, routinely commit atrocities against civilians. Meanwhile the freedoms that would allow people to voice grievances and demand accountability have been systematically stripped away.

Mali’s trajectory matters beyond its borders. It was the first in a series of Central and West African countries^[28] to fall under military rule in recent years and is now spearheading a regional pushback against global democracy and human rights standards. The international community has responded with condemnations^[29] from UN human rights experts and documentation from civil society groups, but these statements carry little weight. Economic Community of West African States sanctions lost their leverage when Burkina Faso, Mali and Niger withdrew to form the rival Alliance of Sahel States, creating a bloc of authoritarian military regimes that coordinate to suppress dissent across borders, backed by stronger ties to Russia.

What began as a supposed corrective to civilian misrule has hardened into outright authoritarianism dressed in the language of national security and public order. The junta has eliminated any domestic institution that might constrain its power and is now casting aside even international accountability mechanisms.

In this bleak context, Malian civil society activists, journalists and opposition figures continue speaking out at tremendous personal risk. Their courage demands more than statements of condemnation. It calls for tangible support in the form of emergency funding, secure communication channels, legal assistance, temporary refuge and sustained diplomatic pressure. The international community’s commitment to human rights and democratic values, in Mali and across Central and West Africa, must translate into meaningful solidarity with those risking everything to defend them.

Inés M. Pousadela is CIVICUS Head of Research and Analysis, co-director and writer for CIVICUS Lens^[30] and co-author of the State of Civil Society Report^[31].

For interviews or more information, please contact [email protected]^[32]

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