The Mali Situation

In July 2012, Islamic militants hijacked a Tuareg separatist rebellion in northern Mali that was spurred by the political power vacuum created when the Malian military staged a coup in Mali’s capital, Bamako, in March 2012.  Since July, the Islamic militants have exercised control over the northern half of Mali, enforcing strict Islamic fundamentalist law and preaching a jihad, or “holy war,” against the Malian government.  The entire country of Mali was declared off limits to Americans by the US State Department after the coup and the northern section of Burkina Faso that borders Mali, or “Sahel” region, was declared a no-travel zone.

Confused yet?  So was I when I first began acquainting myself with the conflict of Burkina’s neighbor to the North.  Civil conflicts in sub-Saharan Africa are rarely a simple affair, often involving antagonistic ethnic and religious groups, a military that, in practice, cannot be controlled by elected officials, and outside actors with a variety of economic and strategic interests providing money and weapons to both sides of the conflict.  Such is the case with Mali.

 The Malian military staged a coup in March 2012, sending the country into political chaos.  The northern region of Mali has always been beyond the reach of true political control, with multiple ethnic/religious groups that resent the government in Bamako.  The coup provided a perfect opportunity for one of these ethnic groups, the Tuaregs, to begin a separatist rebellion.  To their surprise, it was extremely easy to defeat poorly trained Malian army troops with questionable allegiances to the first non-existent, then new, government in Bamako.

 They pushed further south, taking control of the economic and culturally significant city, Timbuktu.  However the Tuaregs soon found that the rebellion was growing larger than they could handle, as Islamic extremists among their ranks increasingly identified the rebellion as a jihad, recruiting thousands of fundamentalists to their cause.  After jumping on the rebellion bandwagon, the extremists found the goals of the Tuareg rebellion to be unsatisfactory and promptly “hijacked” the rebellion, running the Tuareg leaders out of their ranks.

As with most international organizations, the 15 country Economic Community of West African States (ECOWAS), of which Mali is a member, was slow to respond to the situation. In November 2012, they finally met and, judging the rebellion to be a threat to economic and political stability in the region, approved a military intervention operation with member states contributing soldiers to begin in November 2013.

 Soon afterwards, a rare moment of agreement between France, the US, Great Britain, Russia, and China in the UN Security council led to the approval of a military intervention force working within the same time table as ECOWAS, although it would primarily be focused on training the Malian army to handle the rebellion themselves.  In early January, both of these interventions were expedited as the Islamic militants surprised the international community by pushing even further south into Mali, coming within 50 km of Mopti.

So which developed nation intervened to fight the Islamic militants with ties to Al Qaeda?  Was it the nation that spearheaded the “War on Terror” and often fancies itself the sole protector of freedom and democracy in the world at large?  Nope.  It was France.  Who? What? Why?

As with most foreign policy decisions, it may be impossible to determine the exact factors that led to French intervention, but we can assert that France has numerous political and economic interests in the region: its former colonial kingdom.  Instability breeds instability, and the countries surrounding Mali are not exactly the most politically stable nations of the world.  The Islamic militants were also shown to have strong ties with Al Qaeda, an organization that has clearly posed a terrorist threat to the US and Europe for decades.  Finally, the decision was influenced by the fact that the Malian military has revealed itself to be extremely poorly trained.  In short, the Malian military is not capable of stopping the rebellion on its own.

French military intervention consisted of air strikes on rebel bases in northern Mali and around 3,000 ground troops.  They have been successful in pushing the Islamic militants back from Mopti and further north, but the sustainability of this strategy, as it has been led almost entirely by French forces, is obviously questionable.

The militants decided to test French resolve by assaulting a remote natural gas plant in the southern region of Algeria this past week.  They took 40-50 foreign nationals as hostages and demanded that the French remove their troops from Mali.  The French refused, and the Algerian military took back the gas plant several days later, but not without the deaths of around 35 foreign nationals.

So how does the Mali situation affect Burkina Faso?  As you can see from the map, Burkina Faso shares nearly its entire northern border with Mali.  Burkina is also contributing troops to the ECOWAS coalition force, which is scheduled to join the war effort in Mali soon.  It’s worth noting that the Islamic militants claimed to have terrorist “sleeper cells” in the capitals of all contributing ECOWAS nations.

However, Burkina Faso consistently ranks as one of the poorest and most underdeveloped countries in the world.  The country contains a minimal amount of valuable natural resources and therefore enjoys a comparatively small amount of foreign investment from Europe or the US.  Among Burkina’s chief exports are cotton and sugar, both products that are clearly not among the chief economic interests of the developed world.  Not to mention that Burkina Faso’s tourist industry is virtually non-existent.

Hmmm…. well what makes Burkina Faso a target for an invasion or terrorist attack by Islamic militants?  I’m glad you asked!  Virtually nothing.  Let’s explore five potential goals of the Malian militants.  

1.       If the goal of Malian militants is to take control of valuable economic assets, they would find infinitely more agriculture products than natural resources in Burkina.  

2.       If the goal of Malian militants is to stop French military by threatening their economic interests in the region, they would certainly look elsewhere. 

3.       If the goal of Malian militants is to orchestrate terrorist attacks that harm foreign nationals in Africa, they would find a low concentration of Americans and Europeans in their neighbor to the south.

4.        If the goal of the Malian militants is widen the scope of the rebellion and recruit more fundamentalists, they will not find many jihadists in Burkina Faso.   Although Burkina has a large Muslim population, Islamic fundamentalism is extremely rare

5.       If the goal of the Malian militants is to convince Burkina Faso and other ECOWAS nations to withdraw their troops from the war efforts, they would most certainly not…….actually this is a legitimate threat  to foreign nationals in Burkina 

As far as the United States is concerned, the Islamic militants are terrorists exhibiting similar behavior to the Taliban of Afghanistan.  However, considering how things turned out when the US “liberated” the people of Afghanistan from the Taliban, the administration is clearly hesitant to directly intervene, which would only increase anti-American sentiment among the extremists and threaten US interests in the region.  Therefore, without a direct attack on American interests within the region or outside the region, the US is unlikely to commit ground troops. Besides, France has already taken the lead on neutralizing the Islamic militants, likely with encouragement from the US and possible closed door concessions.

The terrorist attack on the remote gas plant in Algeria is certainly horrific and worrisome, but it highlights the fact that Burkina Faso possesses very few things of value that are close to the Malian border, and therefore is less likely to be the target of a terrorist attack.  The United States also has virtually no economic or human presence in Burkina Faso (besides embassy officials, USAID employees, and….well….Peace Corps Volunteers), making the country less likely to be a target of anti-American terrorism.

In my personal, hardly expert, getting-information-from-the-internet-and-short-wave-radio-once-a-week opinion, Peace Corps Volunteers are safe in Burkina Faso.  Hell, we might be even safer than those damn kids in the US with their cars and booze and rock’n’roll music.

*Please be aware that I have provided a brief explanation of a complex situation.  All of my statements regarding the motivations behind foreign policy and security decisions are conjecture based on the facts that I have available. If you’re interested in all of the details, there are a wide variety of articles on the subject that present the facts in a far more systematic manner than this blog post.

Just Another Day.....

The day began as any other, waking up around 7am, washing my face, and walking to a kiosk near the road to purchase breakfast  As I approached the kiosk, I was happy to see that I actually recognized most of the Burkinabe that I greeted there (it’s necessary to take pride in these types of small accomplishments in village).   I turned to the window to purchase my breakfast materials from a lady who always has an extremely hard time understanding my French and occasionally gives me different change for the same three things: eggs, café au lait, and a baguette.*

*To conclude that she’s bad at math wouldn’t be fair, because Burkina suffers from a severe lack of small change.  25CFA coins are so hard to come by that some restaurants/bars will purposely charge 675CFA for a beer that should only cost 650 because they know they won’t be able to give you change, hence making easy money off you.  It’s very likely that the kiosk lady has a running mental tab of my purchases and will give me more change every once in a while to make up for lost money.  Or maybe she never has the change because a baguette is 125CFA I only buy one per day.  At this point, we’re talking about 5 American cents so I don’t really care.

My morning took an interesting turn when a white person approached me and said “Hey, how’s it going?” in perfect English.  The only white people I’ve seen so far in village have been driving past Takaledougou in cars on the Banfora-Bobo highway, so I was intrigued.  After introductions, he told me he was Canadian, so I asked him where that was.  Apparently there’s this country called Canada to the north of the US.  He’s working at a development agency in the capital of Ghana and was traveling to Ouagadougou, the capital of Burkina, to visit a friend. During his exchange with the kiosk lady, I discovered that his French was as bad as mine, which I thought was odd after remembering that most Canadians speak French. He informed me that he’s from the “English speaking part of Canada.”  He noticed that I was greeting everyone who came up to the kiosk and asking about their health and family.  After complimenting me on how well integrated I was in the community, I informed him that I just arrived 5 days ago.  Our conversation continued for a while, after which I concluded that Canadians are weird. 

After eating breakfast, I walked the 1km to the CSPS, the community health clinic in Takaledougou. It was a slow day, which I’ve learned is the norm for the “winter months” in the southwest of Burkina due to the more temperate climate.   Less heat and less rain means less mosquitos, the pesky insects that transmit malaria.  Even in the “off season,” though, patients are diagnosed with malaria at the CSPS every day, which is a bit worrisome.  After the head nurse, Diallo, had seen all of the waiting patients, he challenged me to a game of “petit football” (foosball).  There’s a foosball table at the pump about 30 yards from the CSPS, although they aren’t very common in villages. It’s run by a group of young men, who are all extremely good at foosball.  Needless to say, Diallo and I played on a team and lost terribly.  For future reference, spinning is legal in Burkina.

After being embarrassed in foosball, I returned to my house and prepared to go to the marche (market) that occurs every five days in the town adjacent to my village, Beregadougou.*

*I learned recently that “dougou” means village or city in Jula, the regionally dominant language of southwestern Burkina, but also spoken in Mali, Senegal, and parts of other West African countries.  This piece of information makes a lot of sense, considering the fact that “dougou” is the suffix of  my village, Takaledougou, and most of the villages surrounding it, such as Beregadougou and Serefadougou.  It also makes the name of Burkina’s capital, Ouagadougou, sound more normal.  In colloquial French and Jula, most villages with the suffix “dougou” are just shortened like this: Ouaga, Takale, Serefa, and Berega.

  There are a variety of routes to get to Berega, most of which involve traversing a ravine.  The only route that doesn’t cross the ravine adds about 3km to the journey and uses decent roads.  I know what you’re thinking…where’s the fun in that?  Women from my village cross the ravine every day with bowls of fruit weighing 30-40 lbs on their heads, which they take to the peage (toll booth) and sell to passing cars, bush taxis, and buses.

 Using the time honored philosophy “If they can do it, I can do it,” I started biking towards the ravine armed with vague instructions from the married Peace Corps volunteer couple before me.  Although I was supposed to take a fork right at some point, I saw women walking up from a path at the edge of the ravine. Clearly this was the path across.   As I started down the path, I quickly realized that it was much steeper and rockier than I initially anticipated, forcing me to walk my bike down several times.  I crossed the stream at the bottom, weaving my way between the women from my village that do family laundry there.  I began biking up the other side until the path ended at a steep rock face about 20 feet high.  I briefly searched for an alternate route, but it quickly became obvious that there was none.  I thought to myself “ça va aller”* and climbed the 20 ft to the top of the ravine carrying my mountain bike.

*Literally translates from French to English as “It’s going to go.”  In practice, it means “it’s going to happen” (and we will deal with the consequences if/when they come).  Used in reference to life, work, or the bush taxi you’re on that barely seems to work.

Luckily no one was hurt in the process, but I couldn’t help thinking to myself “That probably is not the best way to get to Beregadougou by bike.” Call it blind intuition, but I was determined to find a better way home.  After the journey, I decided to change my travel strategy and actually ask for directions to the marche.  The Berega marche is a decidedly small one, but after experiencing several “Grand Marches,” it was a huge relief,  Less people yelling at you, easier to find things, and easier to negotiate. 

A high quality second-hand shirt immediately caught my eye and I negotiated the price down to $1.60.  I moved on to buy four tomatoes, eight onions, and a kilogram of black eyed peas for a collective cost of $3.40.  I saw a sketchy cell phone vendor and remembered that I needed an extra cell phone battery so I could leave a battery at one of the various solar charging businesses in village and still have a working phone.  After pondering for a bit, I realized that every cell phone business in Burkina looks questionable, so I showed him my battery and got another one for $2.40.  I glanced at the package and noticed a sticker that claimed “guaranteed for 12 months.”  After a brief panic attack, I realized that 12 months is pretty damn good for an electronic device purchased in Burkina.  I moved on to buy six square meters of a 70’s era fabric for $4, to be dropped off at the village tailor for a pants/shirt combo referred to as a “complé.”  They end up looking like formal pajama suits.

Feeling awesome about the success at the marche, I began to search for the better route back to Takaledougou.  I knew the ravine got less steep as one moves north, so I headed north for a bit and found a relatively easy stream crossing.  Then I headed in an easterly direction on a path that looked relatively well traveled, figuring it would hit the main highway at some point.  Well I was right, but when I hit the main highway, it was 30 feet above me and I was under a bridge. It was actually a beautiful work of architecture, with a distinct European style and the date 1932 engraved on it.  From this information, I assumed it had been built in 1932, which further impressed me.  Any structure that has been standing in Burkina for more than 80 years is an architectural marvel. 

"32"  Bridge

After admiring the bridge for a good half hour, I looked at my watch and decided to figure out how to get up to the main road.  Although a path appeared to follow the road in a southerly direction, I lost the path in about 10 minutes and a brief attempt to cross a rocky field with the sun beating down on me was a complete failure.  I was lost in the African bush, running out of water and daylight.

To be continued…….

Alright fine, it wasn’t that bad.  There were still two hours of daylight and a stream nearby that I could drink from if necessary.  I was also 80% sure the main highway was on top of that bridge I was just under.  BUT STILL, I was technically lost in the bush.   I usually enjoy knowing where I am or at least being in the vicinity of people who do.  I doubled back to the bridge and towards Berega, eventually taking a fork that I hadn’t seen before that appeared to weave in a southerly direction.  When I crossed the stream again, it occurred to me that this was the same stream that the bridge was built over and the same stream that passes through the ravine behind my village.  It runs east to west about 3km north of my village, but turns to the south as it cuts through the ravine. 

After hitting a couple dirt roads and making some educated guesses, I found a man who spoke enough French to understand that I was looking for the main highway.  I asked him what village  I had ended up in and he said Takale.  In other words, I had found my way back on my own (kind of).  When I got back to the main highway, I biked the 1.5km back to my house and called it a day, satisfied with my marche purchases and the fact that I had identified two routes not to take when biking to Berega.  And that bridge was pretty cool.

Huge expanse of sugar fields across the road  from Takale