For a month now, Mountaga Tall, a prominent lawyer, former minister, and staunch advocate for democracy, has been held incommunicado by Mali’s State Security, his detention completely outside any legal framework. His son, along with other pro-democracy activists, military personnel, and religious figures, has suffered the same fate. These abductions intensified following the widespread attacks on April 25, orchestrated by jihadists from Jnim and separatists from the FLA. Mamadou Ismaïla Konaté, himself a lawyer and former Malian Minister of Justice, stands as a vocal opponent of the military authorities who have governed for six years without elections. He recently shared his insights on Mountaga Tall’s plight, the alleged misuse of the anti-terrorist campaign, and the perceived subservience of the Malian judicial system. Konaté reiterated his firm opposition to jihadist terrorism, underscored the transitional regime’s accountability, and clarified his reasons for not aligning with the Coalition des forces pour la République (CFR), the opposition coalition led by Imam Dicko.
It has been a full month since Mountaga Tall’s abduction and his undisclosed detention by State Security. His family, legal counsel, and the International Conference of Bar Associations have repeatedly called for his release or presentation before a judge, demanding respect for due process, but their pleas have fallen on deaf ears. I questioned Mamadou Ismaïla Konaté on whether Mali’s transitional authorities heed these appeals.
Konaté expressed his personal skepticism, emphasizing that these authorities “must listen to reason and law.” He asserted that “no one should be deprived of their liberty outside the legal framework.” Even in the current context, which he described as lacking a true rule of law, Konaté insisted on reminding the authorities that “the rule of law is measured, in particular, by how it treats its opponents, its critics, and its lawyers.” He found it “unacceptable that a citizen, a political figure but a lawyer by profession, has never been visited, neither by doctors, nor by lawyers, let alone by the President of the Bar Association.” He noted that after a strongly worded statement from the Bar President, the Malian military authorities responded by abducting the President’s own son, an “unbearable escalation.”
Indeed, following Mountaga Tall, his son and other political opponents, as well as military and religious leaders, have faced similar fates. While military justice is reportedly investigating suspicions of complicity with armed groups in the April 25 attacks, no official link has been made between this probe and the abductions. However, the implicit strategy of the authorities, amplified by their supporters, is to justify these practices as part of the fight against terrorism. This approach, Konaté observed, appears to resonate with a segment of the Malian population.
Konaté stressed the need to clarify to these Malians that “the fight against terrorism cannot justify legal insecurity.” He firmly stated that “a military camp is not a jurisdiction.” While lawful detention must be proven, “arbitrariness conceals itself, and we are in a context of total arbitrariness.” He warned, “Today, it is Mountaga Tall, but tomorrow, it will be many other people, and that is precisely why, even in a context of combating terrorism, it is important that the legal framework be preserved, that justice be at the beginning and at the end.”
Beyond these specific cases, a broader pattern of Malian justice has emerged. Former Prime Minister Moussa Mara received a one-year prison sentence for a tweet expressing hope that “day” would succeed “night,” while supporters of the transition openly call for lynching pro-democracy activists or burning businesses owned by Mauritanians. I asked Konaté whether Malian justice has become subservient to the transitional authorities.
Konaté unequivocally stated that this justice, which is supposed to uphold public order and security, “gives the impression of bowing down and being rather submissive today.” He urged the judiciary to recognize that “it is not at the service of a regime, even a military one. It is at the service of the State, the nation, the people.” He emphasized that “judges must not lose sight of this principle.”
But do judges have a choice? Are they not also living in fear? Konaté acknowledged that “the law gives judges the possibility to recuse themselves.” He argued that “beyond everything, under the guise of fear, judges today are letting themselves go, playing a role that is detrimental to them, detrimental to the very idea of justice.” From his perspective, they must simply realize that “today is today, but tomorrow justice will be.”
Following the April 25 attacks, the death of Minister Sadio Camara, and the capture of Kidal, some believed the military rulers in Mali were weakened. Yet, the power doesn’t seem to be faltering significantly. Konaté disagreed, asserting, “It is faltering!” He reiterated that “terrorism has no place in society; it constitutes the very negation of the social pact, of law, and of civil peace.” However, he found it increasingly difficult “to ignore the responsibility of a power that itself originates from force and maintains itself through force and terror.” He concluded that “the country’s exposure, and that of its citizens, to increasing dangers cannot be dissociated from the decisions made by those who have governed for six years.”
As an acknowledged opponent of Mali’s transitional authorities, Konaté has notably not joined the CFR (Coalition des forces pour la République), Imam Dicko’s coalition. He explained his stance.
“For the simple reason that today, we are caught between the ‘kepi’ and the ‘chechia,'” Konaté articulated, using metaphors for military rule and religious influence. “The ‘kepi’ represents the seizure of power by force, the authoritarian exercise of that power.” Facing this, he continued, “we have the ‘chechias,’ and we must remind them, 2012 happened. 2012, after all, involved hands and feet being cut off in the northern regions of Mali…”
He clarified that this occurred “during the period of occupation by jihadist groups.” Konaté emphasized that “these amputations are still fresh in people’s minds.” While he understands the call for national unity and dialogue, he believes there are “absolute prerequisites.” He asserted, “We cannot emerge from a battlefield, armed with weapons and ammunition, to then sit around a table and wipe the slate clean of everything that has happened.” He drew a parallel: “In the same way that I vigorously combat this military regime, which violates all rights and freedoms, in that same way, I cannot truly support acts of terror and terrorists.” He insisted on an “absolute prerequisite: we must discuss 2012. We must discuss this malevolent junction between the FLA and Jnim. There must be prerequisites for adherence to absolute principles and values that, for me, form the foundation of the Republic, democracy, and justice.”
The regimes of the Alliance of Sahel States (AES) – Mali, Niger, and Burkina Faso – consistently claim that opposing them is tantamount to opposing the sovereignty of these nations, aligning with national enemies, terrorists, external interference, and media warfare. As a Malian, Konaté offered his response.
“No one can today strip me of the label of Malian, on the one hand, patriot, on the other, and engaged citizen,” Konaté declared. He argued that “what bothers these regimes in power, which themselves are born of illegality and fraud, is that they cannot bear to be reminded of what law is. They cannot bear to be reminded of their own statements, their commitments.” He concluded with a sharp critique: “But the true anti-patriots are those who starve citizens and who today corrupt liberties and annihilate law.”
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