This is the home of the Dogon, an ethnic group indigenous to eastern Mali.
Steep cliffs dominate the landscape.
Villages were carved out of the rock here in the 15th century.
A decade ago, this area was the top tourist destination in Mali.
But ever since 2016... jihadists have wielded control in the region.
This area is now the most dangerous in the country.
Neither the Malian nor French military has a presence here.
Armed men at security check points like this are a rare sight.
This is for our protection because there’s no army here.
Our driver, Modibo, knows his way around the area.
He used to drive tourists here.
How’s your family?
All’s well... Thanks!
Thank God!
These civilians patrol the entrance to the Dogon territory.
We’ve passed several checkpoints along the way.
Jihadists are constantly trying to infiltrate the area,
so every vehicle is searched.
Only local residents are allowed to pass through.
We’re now in Songho. There’s a training camp for hunters here.
They’re training right now... here.
These men are dressed in the traditional uniform of the Dozo,
a secretive brotherhood of initiated hunters and warriors.
Armed with knives and old hunting rifles,
the men are highly respected in the area.
They wear amulets believed to have magical powers
that make them invisible and even bullet-proof.
Stand at attention! Now right.
The Dozo have formed a militia.
Attention! Now left.
Many in the village have joined the Dozo to fight the jihadists.
The Dozo are part of the most powerful militia in the region
— Dan Na Ambassagou, with about a thousand soldiers.
Their leader is Youssouf Toloba. He doesn’t often show his face.
Fearing assassination, he seeks safety in the rocky cliffs.
Commander Marteau takes us to him.
We’re headed to Kassa. You’ll see where we were attacked.
There are many jihadists there.
Have a good trip.
Thanks.
Marteau and his men regularly patrol the cliffs.
This is the last stronghold against the jihadists
and must be defended at all costs.
The jihadists burned down the villages. More than 12 were destroyed.
They stole money and killed many people. Then they burned down all the houses,
the storage facilities... They took all the animals.
Although their homes are just 20 kilometers away,
Marteau and his men only see their families three times a year.
We don’t stay in the city.
We can last a long time out here — three, four months.
We don’t even return to the village for a day.
Marteau is 25 years old.
Ten years ago, he dropped out of school to join the Dozo and fight.
Three-minute break!
These men are between 25 and 60 years old.
They used to lead peaceful lives, as farmers and herders.
Then the jihadists came.
We do this because it’s our only option. They’ve destroyed our country.
I’m a herder. The jihadists took all our animals. We have nothing left.
I was a student in Quran school.
They drove us out and burned all the Qurans.
There’s no mosque anymore. They took all the prayer rugs.
They even took our burial mats.
But we’re still here so they haven’t destroyed everything.
The state doesn’t understand what’s going on here! Is that normal?
Are we not a part of this nation? We, the land of the Dogon? Of course we are!
We’re at war. No matter what happens, we’re in this until the end.
We were granted special access to spend a few days with these men.
They’ll do everything they can to defend the land of the Dogon,
this small territory in the Sahel.
The Sahel region stretches across Africa, from the savanna to the desert.
Home to both farmers and nomadic herders.
The region spans eight countries, all plagued by terrorism.
Especially prevalent in Mali.
Under the banner of Al-Qaeda in the Islamic Maghreb,
a coalition of jihadist groups came together in 2017.
With its growing influence in the heart of Mali,
the group wants to impose Sharia law.
...And the Malian army is ill-equipped to stop them.
Known for its corruption and indiscipline,
the military is failing to halt the jihadists' advance...
despite the thousands of French soldiers
who have been providing support and training in the Sahel for a decade.
Repeated coups have weakened the Malian government
and left large parts of the country neglected.
The Dogon have formed self-defense groups,
but without the presence of state authorities,
old tensions between farmers and herders are resurfacing.
When animals are left to roam, disputes often erupt over grazing areas.
There’s constant conflict.
The jihadists exploit these tensions to attract new recruits.
We spoke with four people who regretted signing up.
Everything you do requires their approval.
You have to do things you don't want to do.
They forcefully indoctrinate you.
The only country in the Sahel to successfully hold back the jihadists...
...is Mauritania.
The nation’s military is hunting jihadists down
both on the ground and in the air...
with the help of counterinsurgency aircraft.
Don’t let the fourth one escape!
Don’t worry, I won’t!
Mauritania is using traditional methods as well:
Soldiers on camels, gathering intel in the desert.
Hello. We don’t want your sheep — we need information.
A journey through the Sahel, which has become home to international jihadists.
In Mali, 60% of jihadist attacks
are carried out in the center of the country.
Jihadists have surrounded the Dogon territory,
but the cliffs form a natural barrier.
They prevent the jihadists from reaching the plateau and the big cities.
In the cliffs, the Dan Na Ambassagou is the only militia mounting a resistance.
Commander Marteau and his men are fighting in a hostile environment.
Temperatures can reach 45 degrees Celsius in the shade.
The vegetation is sparse... as is the food supply.
It's not yet ripe. In wintertime, we don't have anything else to eat.
The Dozo rely on support from villagers who climb the steep cliffs
to deliver supplies. Bashir is one of them.
Glory... Respect. Glory to you.
They touch their hands to the ground in greeting, a sign of utmost respect.
Bashir brings the hunters food.
He returned to his home region a year ago to support the fighters.
We need water.
Give them water.
Here’s the water, chief.
We haven’t eaten anything since yesterday.
We haven’t found anything since dinner yesterday. We’re hungry.
We’re going to change that.
Yes.
We’ll feed you.
I’m counting on you.
But before they sit down to eat...
A guard there.
...Commander Marteau stations guards around the camp.
Come over here... Yes. There are many jihadists there.
Some 30 jihadist units operate on the plains below.
The closest one is only a kilometer away.
From this vantage point, we’re able to see when they climb up
— even without binoculars. That's why we're here. We’ll clean the rifles.
Are these army rifles?
No, we found them with the jihadists. We shot at them.
They died and we took their weapons.
The Dozo receive no aid from the Malian government or from international troops.
Yes, operational commander! What’s your location?
Whenever he reaches a crest in the mountain, Marteau calls Toloba,
the leader of the militia, for further instruction.
Yes, the first camp, yes... OK! Thank you very much.
OK, let’s eat now.
Here, mealtime is holy.
The men eat their food in silence... without putting down their weapons.
Thank you very much.
Let’s go.
About 50 units like this one patrol the cliffs. One of them is Toloba’s.
This war leader stays constantly on the move
because he’s the jihadists’ main target. He avoids media attention,
but with the urging of an intermediary, he finally agreed to talk to us.
Tell him that you’re the only reason I came this morning.
I had no intention of coming.
I don’t even meet up with people from my village — you can ask them.
They see me when I pass by, but that's it.
Toloba left the Malian army twenty-five years ago
to fight the Tuareg Rebellion in northern Mali.
When the jihadists started gaining ground,
he returned to the Dogon territory in 2016
and founded the Dan Na Ambassagou militia.
All the hunters you see here are Malians. There aren’t any foreigners.
The government doesn’t give us weapons. We’re in our caves.
And when jihadists come by, we kill them and take their weapons.
The army doesn’t help us, France doesn’t help us, no one helps us.
But the locals are on our side.
To this day, Toloba and his hunters have managed to maintain control
of the cliffs.
But the jihadists have carried out several devastating raids
over the years.
Since 2016, twelve villages have been pillaged in the commune, Kassa.
They burned down everything.
The moment they got here, they gathered all they could and burned it. See?
What did they burn?
Kitchen utensils... and motorcycles over there. They took the animals.
The jihadists gave the villagers a cruel ultimatum.
Either comply and pay the Islamic tax or watch their homes be pillaged.
That was all destroyed and then rebuilt. There was millet...
Everything was decimated.
Moussa Tolo is the deputy mayor of Kassa. He’s helping residents rebuild.
There was millet and onion planted here... everything was destroyed.
They stole everything they could and burned the rest.
The jihadists want to destroy everything that’s at odds
with their fundamentalist interpretation of Islam.
In 2012, they destroyed mausoleums and tombstones
of Muslim saints in Timbuktu — World Heritage sites.
They also smashed tribal art, including these statuettes.
There are countless such treasures in Mali.
Many here believe that natural objects have souls.
The cliff is the last line of defense against the jihadists.
There are only a few routes that lead to the plateau.
Marteau and his men risk their lives defending it.
You see this?
Packaging of the ammunition. And they were eating cookies...
Jihadists tried to enter this way five months ago.
They ate here. And they attacked us.
You were up there?
Yes, we were up there, and they were below.
How many?
About one hundred. We had about 24 men.
At dusk, the Dozo climb to the summit to watch for jihadists
who might try to enter through this access point.
This is where Marteau’s unit was stationed.
The attack stretched on for six hours.
Our team was here, yes. They ran and came with a rocket launcher
and many other weapons and ammunition. They have more resources than we do.
Anyone from your side injured?
There were casualties.
There were?
Yes, injuries and deaths.
Really?
Yes.
Marteau lost seven men during the attack.
But we will never surrender. Even if we have to sacrifice our lives,
we’ll do it together.
Because this is our home, our territory, the land of the Dogon.
If we had to leave our land, where would we go? The military isn’t coming.
What else can we do? There’s no other choice.
We’re exhausted, but we’re not backing down.
I’ve never backed down since the day I was born.
That's why they call me Marteau. That means hammer.
The little hammer hits the big stone.
The Dozo set up camp.
They have to be especially careful at night to avoid being seen.
The villager, Bashir, is back with dinner.
The stove needs to go here so you can't see the fire, from any distance.
Light is forbidden at night. If we want to smoke, we have to hide, like this.
I’ve got to hurry.
You see that? That’s how they sleep.
Right on top of the boulders...
Always.
...weapon in hand.
We arrive in Kassa.
The main town here continues to be a target for jihadist raids.
As is customary, the Dozo must remove their hunting clothes
and magical amulets before entering.
For more than a year, children in Kassa haven’t been able to attend school.
Teachers fled after the last attack.
The classrooms are used as temporary housing for the hunters.
Marteau is meeting with Moussa Tolo, the deputy mayor.
Hi!
Hello!
How are you?
How’s everyone? All good, no issues?
Everyone’s fine.
God bless you. You are our sole protectors.
You are the guardians of the fatherland.
The jihadists have tried to attack Kassa six times.
Thanks to Marteau and the Dozo, they’ve haven’t been successful.
Does the government not listen to you? Don’t they know what’s happening?
The government knows what’s happening.
But they’re afraid to come here because the area is overrun with jihadists.
They’re scared. Even the mayor’s not here. He stays in Koro.
Moussa Tolo is the only government official here
who has not deserted his post. When his superiors fled,
he turned to the traditional spiritual leader, Hogon...
...to discuss the community’s economic and security problems.
They took all the grazing livestock.
What do they do with the animals they steal?
I have no clue what they do.
They probably eat them after they’ve stolen them... or sell them.
As farmers, our fortune lies in our oxen, goats, and sheep.
We have nothing more.
An ox costs six times the monthly wage of the average Malian.
With 68 million cattle, Mali supplies most of the beef in the region,
exporting to Senegal, Ivory Coast, and Burkina Faso.
But the conflict has destabilized this important economic pillar.
And it’s made it harder to source nutritious food.
The 25,000 people who live in Dogon’s largest town, Bandiagara,
have been especially devastated by the scarcity of meat.
Butchers at the market don’t have much to do.
The meat shortage has driven up prices... 25% in three years.
That's three thousand CFA francs.
Three thousand francs.
A kilo of red meat costs three thousand CFA now.
That's the equivalent of four euros sixty cents per kilogram.
Two days’ pay here.
With all the hardships facing locals, butchers are barely making a profit.
We used to make a lot of money. Now we don't earn anything.
We don't want to stop working. That’s the way it is right now.
Half of the butcher shops in the market have shut down.
But Amadou Traoré keeps going.
His father, Kamia, is the president of the butchers' guild.
It’s a family business, passed down from father to son since 1942.
But they’ve never experienced a crisis like this.
Before the war, Amadou bought about twenty cattle a week.
He’s been looking to buy cattle for five days now...
And he’s finally found one for sale.
How much for that one there?
390,000.
Could you go down a bit?
385,000 is the minimum.
A bit lower...
I’ll do it for three hundred ten thousand...
315,000... 325, OK?
380,000!
The trader isn’t budging.
He already took on a considerable risk by buying the cattle.
He can’t afford to sell the animals for a low price.
It was also very expensive out where we bought them.
If you don't buy them, someone else will.
The journey is difficult and risky.
Risky?
It’s extremely risky. There are many dangers along the way.
But we go out searching for cattle anyway.
There aren’t many animals left, they’re impossible to find.
We only find single cattle now.
The other day I drove over 26 kilometers and only found these here.
The conflict has to end.
That’s the only way?
It’s the only way!
We just want peace. Everyone must come to the table and negotiate peacefully.
Then things could go back to the way they were.
If Amadou Traoré can no longer afford to purchase cattle,
he might have to close up shop.
He’s part of the Fulani ethnic group, traditionally nomadic herders,
they’re facing increasing harassment by farmers, jihadists, and the military.
Most Fulani are semi-nomadic.
In the dry season, they migrate with their herds to southern pastures.
But ever since the war broke out,
the state stopped managing the traditional migration routes.
As a result, the cattle are wiping out crops...
igniting conflict between farmers and herders.
When animals are left to roam, disputes often erupt over the grazing areas.
There’s constant conflict. For some time now,
the administration has been putting the Fulani under a great deal of pressure.
They take you away and lock you up. Herders hate being confined.
A herder would pay a million to avoid it.
Malian judges are often corrupt and order herders to pay astronomical fines.
As resentments started to build,
a Fulani man saw an opportunity to recruit his people as jihadists.
His name: Amadou Kouffa.
He called his group Katibat Macina. Referring to the golden age
in the 19th century when the Fulani and the Massina empire ruled central Mali.
I’d like to thank God for allowing me to live to see the day
when thousands of Fulani join the jihadists
to fight on this divine path to martyrdom.
Amadou Kouffa started out as a preacher in the 1990s.
At the time, audio tapes of his sermons were popular among the Fulani.
A fresh stream of recruits allowed Amadou Kouffa's group
to expand its influence in central Mali.
The town of Mopti lies at the junction of the Niger and Bani rivers.
It’s a strategic place of trade between northern and southern Mali.
Since 2019, the river separates Mopti from jihadist-controlled areas.
Trade between the two sides continues,
although Sharia law is in full force on the other side.
Now, when women cross the river, they must wear a black hijab.
They face beatings. The punishment for stealing is losing a hand or a foot.
Four former jihadists who used to live across the river agreed to meet with us.
All four are Fulani and say they joined the jihadists
because they were persecuted.
This former herder says his village was invaded
by the Malian army and attacked by Dozo hunters.
They say that all Fulani are jihadists, but that’s not true.
They attack our villages, killing women, small children, 2 or 3-year-olds
who can't defend themselves, and even old women who can't use a gun.
Were any of your relatives killed?
Yes.
Those who sign up to fight must acquire their own weapon and motorcycle.
Some spend up to 1,800 euros on gear.
They force you to hold your hands like this while praying.
Were you asked to convert to salafism?
Yes... I myself am Maliki.
They wanted me to convert, but I refused. So I left the group.
Malikism has been practiced here for centuries.
Unlike Salafism, it advocates a tolerant reading of the Quran.
Salafism was brought to Mali in the 1980s
by preachers from the Gulf nations.
These four men were disappointed the jihadist life
wasn’t what they’d envisioned,
so they returned home to live alongside their former neighbors,
of various ethnicities.
When I returned home, the Dogon were initially scared of me.
But after some time, my neighbors were no longer afraid.
They now look at me as if I did nothing wrong. They’ve gotten used to me.
The Fulani and the Dogon will always need each other.
To cultivate the fields, to build houses, to dig wells:
That's what the Dogon do best.
Livestock farming is the Fulani’s expertise.
Hundreds of thousands of Fulani have left central Mali due to persecution,
especially by Malian soldiers.
Some have found refuge in neighboring countries...
...including in Mauritania, the most stable state in the Sahel.
Some 67,000 people live in the Mbera refugee camp.
Most of them are Tuareg who fled jihadists in northern Mali in 2012.
The newest arrivals, however, are all Fulani... like chief, Birgui Sow.
A year ago, he fled his village after being threatened by a Malian soldier.
The soldier said to me: I swear to you and I will not say it twice.
I heard the Fulani are killing us, jihadists are killing us.
So we’re going to kill all the Fulani.
I called someone at the judicial district.
He told us to stay home and no one would hurt us.
But no officials to his calls for help seriously.
The military returned to the village the next Friday.
First, they surrounded us. That was between 1 and 2 pm.
Then they invaded the village. They attacked everyone there.
They went into the rooms and dragged sick people out of their homes.
They killed seven people.
The Fulani were terrified.
Birgui helped send one thousand families to Mauritania.
People live in peace here. I thank God for that.
Right now, I wouldn't even go back if they chartered a plane.
We’ll never forget what they did to us. They murdered people.
Birgui and his fellow villagers will not go back to Mali
without a guarantee of safety.
In Mauritania, refugees receive food from the United Nations.
They can lead some semblance of a normal life:
They’re allowed to farm land, raise their animals.
...and even go to school.
Caring for the population in order to win them over
is part of the Mauritanian government's strategy.
After a dozen jihadist attacks,
Mauritania massively restructured its military.
It’s now considered the most professional in the region.
One of Mauritania's main air bases is in Atar,
at the edge of the Sahara Desert.
The planes parked on the tarmac seem to be from another age,
like this antique from the 1950s... or these Brazilian-produced fighter planes.
They may look rudimentary, but they’re perfectly suited for the war here.
Colonel Taleb leads this squadron.
This is the Super Tucano. This aircraft doubles our range and is powerful.
We’re also able to attach different types of weapons to it.
We have two built-in twelve point sevens,
as well as electric machine guns and rocket launchers...
We can use seventy-millimeter rockets.
That’s for vehicles?
Yes, that’s for vehicles. What weapon we choose often depends on the target.
One advantage to these fighter planes is they’re agile
and able to land on uneven runways in the middle of the desert.
But first, the Air Force has to pinpoint the enemy’s location.
That’s where this reconnaissance aircraft comes in.
This Cessna Caravan is constantly monitoring
the two thousand-kilometer border Mauritania shares with Mali.
...A total of 450,000 kilometers of desert.
Lieutenant Youssouf operates the sensors.
He controls the high-resolution cameras with a range of up to 20 kilometers.
The Malian border is lined with terrorists — Al-Qaeda.
There are smugglers of every kind...
for drugs, weapons, gold. All kinds of things.
In their eyes, jihadists and black-market traders are closely linked.
The country, among the poorest in the world, has spared no expense here.
Each surveillance system costs one million US dollars
and makes it possible to search the ground in all conditions.
It’s foggy on the ground. We use infrared in situations like this.
That’s based on temperature, not visibility.
With the help of the heat sensors,
Lieutenant Youssouf can see the imprint of the vehicles in the sand
— even several hours after they’ve traveled a given route.
Check that out — those are tracks from cars.
That’s impossible to see with the naked eye.
That shows there’s activity — look.
The desert is not as empty as it seems. Nomads pitch their tents here.
And gold panners mine gold, which is abundant in the region.
This is one of the trucks that’s used for transporting supplies.
When he spots weapons, Lieutenant Youssouf alerts the command.
High-ranking officers order the raids.
Over the past three years, Colonel Taleb and the pilots at the Atar base
have intercepted 25 pick-up trucks from smugglers or jihadists.
We obtained exclusive footage from a mission in January 2019.
Found them.
OK. Aim for the last one, before they can see you.
Zero in on the last one and strike.
On this day, the Mauritanian army destroy four jihadist trucks.
Hold on, I’ll shoot the fourth one.
Don’t let it escape!
Don’t worry, I won’t!
Mauritania's ground troops have also been restructured.
In 2009, the state formed a Special Intervention Group
— units specializing in counterterrorism.
Eight units of 200 men each, guard the border with Mali.
Attention!
Are you ready to fight? To your posts!
This platoon of 80 soldiers sets out on a three-day patrol.
Their trucks are fitted with heavy machine guns.
They cover 18,000 square kilometers.
The off-road vehicles cover as much ground as possible,
stopping every 500 meters.
Every bush could be a potential hiding place for the enemy.
Move, move, move... give your comrade the signal to follow you.
Tell him to weave between the trees and move fast!
To fight the jihadists, the army also relies on human intelligence.
Hey, come here.
The herders are constantly crossing the savanna...
A valuable source of information.
Seen anyone new?
No one.
All well with you?
Yes, thank God.
Thank God. OK, you’re free to go.
Jihadists would not go unnoticed by the nomads.
To gain their trust, the military brings them medicine every month.
When the military comes to a village, this is how they’re greeted.
They’re given a warm welcome of brotherhood, friendship and love.
Over the past 12 years, the special intervention groups’ presence
has radically changed life for many residents, including this cattle owner.
Ever since the army arrived, the animal thefts have stopped.
Nothing more has been stolen, not even a rooster!
And we can sleep at night now. Look, our cows can roam as they please.
No more theft.
The Mauritanian government doesn’t just focus on security.
They also want to avoid what’s happened in Mali,
where many residents feel left behind...
That’s why the government in Mauritania started a citizen police force
in the most remote parts of the country...
...where men travel by camel.
25 soldiers are preparing for an expedition spanning several days.
They’re under the command of Colonel el-Khalil.
Last sip before you go?
Yes, some water before leaving. We have to recharge.
This will keep me going the whole day, until midday.
Three sips?
Of course. A real camel driver can last the whole day on that.
With just three sips?
I can guarantee that with two liters of water
— at the most — I can make it 24 hours. Not to mention the camels!
With two canteens full of water,
they can manage up to 10 days in the middle of the desert.
Although camels can cover 65 kilometers in a day and carry 400 kilograms,
they’re stubborn animals and can be difficult to maneuver.
To be part of the camel cavalry,
it’s required to be a nomad and have a thorough knowledge of the region,
its people, and dialects.
You’ve been doing this long?
Yes.
How many years?
I used to do it... yes.
The men’s most important job is to form relationships
with the locals and listen to their problems.
How are you, where are you coming from?
I’m getting water.
From where? The drilling well?
The biggest concern here is the water supply.
Isn't Hsey el-Ghabra closer?
I’ve come from there.
There’s no water?
No.
Darn, the water’s out.
A water shortage can quickly lead to conflict among farmers.
The colonel passes on the information.
Let’s keep moving... forward... let’s go.
This is all part of their mission, just like their intelligence operations.
Hello. We don’t want your sheep, we need information.
The men ask the same questions at every encounter.
Is the well working, and has there been any suspicious activity?
He says everything is normal, nothing out of the ordinary.
All right, you can go. There’s no water.
No water?
There’s a well up ahead.
Further ahead?
There’s a well in front there. That’s where we’ll set up camp.
The camel riding unit is responsible for maintaining the wells.
In recent years, the Mauritanian government and the European Union
have financed the drilling of hundreds of new wells.
A policy that’s proven effective.
Have you ever reported the presence of jihadists?
Yes, of course. There have been several cases we informed the authorities about.
Some turned out to be ordinary citizens,
but in other cases they were really terrorists. Anything can happen.
When you see suspicious activity, you report it straight away.
Another benefits of these wells: Locals can stay in these desert areas,
which might otherwise become a haven for jihadists from Mali.