NIAMEY – What do you get when you mix abandoned colonial ties, Russian mercenaries in fatigues, and a government run by generals? In Niger’s case, a dramatic pivot from West to East, sealed by the expulsion of French troops and the embrace of Moscow’s military handshake. The latest twist: Niger’s ruling junta has signed a defense agreement with Russia, deepening a relationship that has become the most striking symbol of the region’s geopolitical realignment.
Just over a year ago, Niger was still considered France’s last military foothold in the Sahel. Now, Russian advisers are replacing French ones, the Wagner Group’s successors are drilling soldiers, and anti-Western slogans echo through the streets of Niamey. It’s not just a change of partners—it’s a change of narrative. And like all good stories in geopolitics, this one has layers.
The July 2023 coup that deposed President Mohamed Bazoum was condemned internationally, but it struck a populist chord at home. Protesters cheered the military, denounced France, and waved Russian flags. What started as a military takeover quickly became a cultural realignment, with symbols of Russian influence—from T-shirts to Telegram channels—spreading like wildfire. The junta, under General Abdourahamane Tiani, capitalized on this sentiment, casting itself as a liberator from neo-colonial shackles.
By March 2024, France had pulled out its last soldiers. The airbase in Niamey, once a hub for counterterrorism operations, now hosts Russian military instructors. In their public messaging, the junta insists this is about sovereignty and security. French troops, they argue, failed to protect Niger from jihadist violence. Russia, on the other hand, is offering unconditional military support—and no lectures about human rights or democratic norms.
Moscow, ever eager to expand its influence in Africa, found a willing client in Niamey. For the Kremlin, Niger represents a strategic prize: a uranium-rich country at the crossroads of the Sahel, bordering Mali, Burkina Faso, and Nigeria. With Mali and Burkina Faso also under military rule and aligned with Moscow, Russia now has a de facto “junta corridor” stretching across West Africa. It’s not quite a new Warsaw Pact—but it’s certainly a new axis of illiberal convenience.
The defense deal signed this week formalizes that alignment. Details remain opaque, but sources indicate that it includes training, equipment supply, and intelligence-sharing. Analysts say it’s modeled after similar deals in Mali and the Central African Republic, where Russian forces provide personal protection to military leaders in exchange for access to mining rights and strategic facilities. In short, it’s business, bullets, and loyalty—no questions asked.
Critics of the junta, both inside and outside Niger, warn that the price of this partnership may be steep. Human rights groups say Russian-backed forces in Mali and CAR have been linked to massacres and abuses. Niger’s fragile civil society, already under pressure from the military regime, fears an erosion of freedoms and a tightening of authoritarian control. And while Russia’s military support may be unconditional, it’s rarely free—gold, uranium, and other concessions are often the hidden costs.
The West, meanwhile, is scrambling to adapt. The United States, which also maintained a drone base in Agadez, has faced increased scrutiny from the junta. In April 2024, Niger’s military government ordered the withdrawal of American troops, following what it called “a failed partnership.” This marked the end of a decade of Western military cooperation in the Sahel, with Niger once viewed as the model ally. No more. The model is broken.
In the vacuum left by the West, Russia—and to a lesser extent China and Turkey—are stepping in. It’s a shift with global implications. The Sahel, long seen through the lens of counterterrorism, is now becoming a theater of great-power competition. While jihadi groups like ISGS and JNIM still wreak havoc, the political discourse is less about ideology and more about sovereignty, dignity, and geopolitical real estate.
There is also an element of realpolitik at play. Niger’s junta is under sanctions from ECOWAS and faces international isolation. Cozying up to Moscow provides both protection and legitimacy in a club of like-minded regimes. The military rulers in Bamako and Ouagadougou have already walked this path. For General Tiani, joining them seems less like a gamble and more like insurance.
But whether this new alliance brings stability remains uncertain. Attacks by jihadist groups have not decreased significantly. Economic hardships continue. And despite promises of sovereignty and dignity, Niger’s political roadmap remains vague. No elections are scheduled, no transition timeline announced, and civic space is shrinking.
As the tricolor flags come down and Cyrillic syllables rise, Niger finds itself in uncharted waters. It has traded one foreign partner for another, one set of narratives for a newer, glossier one. Whether this brings peace or simply a different kind of dependency will define not just Niger’s future, but the fate of post-coup politics across the Sahel.
Russia has boots on the ground, the junta has a new best friend, and France has packed its bags. For now, everyone’s playing their part. But the final act in this geopolitical drama is far from over—and in Niger, the curtain rarely falls without a surprise.
