Mali Takes Algeria to International Court of Justice Over Drone Incident: What’s at Stake?

In a bold and unprecedented move, Mali has filed a case against Algeria at the International Court of Justice (ICJ) following the destruction of a Malian military drone near the border town of Tinzaouaten. The incident, which occurred in early September 2025, has escalated into a full-blown international legal dispute, raising fundamental questions about sovereignty, jurisdiction, and the enforcement of international law in an increasingly volatile region.

A Charge of Aggression

Malian authorities have accused Algeria of an act of aggression that violates both Mali’s territorial sovereignty and key principles of the United Nations Charter. Central to Bamako’s argument is Article 2(4) of the UN Charter, which explicitly prohibits the threat or use of force against the territorial integrity or political independence of any state. Additionally, Mali has invoked the 1974 UN General Assembly Resolution 3314, which provides a legal definition of aggression—a clear signal that Bamako intends to frame the incident within established international legal norms.

But will these arguments hold up in court? And more importantly, does the ICJ even have the authority to hear this case?

The Question of Jurisdiction

Invoking the UN Charter is one thing; establishing the ICJ’s jurisdiction is another. Under Article 24 of the Charter, the primary responsibility for maintaining international peace and security lies with the UN Security Council. The ICJ, by contrast, is a judicial body with a strictly legal mandate. It can only hear cases where states have accepted its jurisdiction, whether through optional clause declarations, specific treaties, or ad hoc agreements.

Herein lies the first major hurdle: Algeria has not recognized the compulsory jurisdiction of the ICJ. Without a preexisting treaty or special agreement between the two nations, Algeria could easily raise a preliminary objection to the Court’s competence, effectively halting the proceedings before they even begin.

Why the ICJ and Not the Security Council?

Mali’s decision to turn to the ICJ appears strategic. This isn’t the first time Bamako has sought international redress. Back in 2022, Mali appealed to the UN Security Council over alleged acts of aggression by France, including repeated violations of its airspace and even accusations of support for jihadist groups. That complaint went nowhere, underscoring the highly politicized nature of the Security Council and the veto power wielded by its permanent members.

By shifting the battleground from New York to The Hague, Mali is attempting to judicialize the conflict—forcing Algeria to engage in a legal rather than a purely political dispute. It’s a clever play, but one fraught with procedural and practical challenges.

The Road Ahead: Procedure and Possibilities

If the ICJ agrees to hear the case, the process will unfold in several stages. Mali will submit a written memorial outlining its arguments, to which Algeria will have the opportunity to respond—likely with strong objections to the Court’s jurisdiction. Public hearings may follow, allowing both sides to present their cases before the judges.

In the interim, the Court could order provisional measures to prevent further escalation. These might include calls for both countries to refrain from any action that could worsen tensions. A final judgment, however, could take years—and even then, the ICJ has no enforcement mechanism of its own. Compliance depends entirely on the willingness of the states involved.

Learning from Precedents

History offers mixed lessons. In the 1984 case of Nicaragua v. United States, the ICJ ruled in Nicaragua’s favor, but the U.S. simply ignored the judgment. More recently, Ukraine successfully brought cases against Russia before the ICJ by invoking specific international conventions both countries had ratified.

Closer to home, African states have also used the Court to resolve disputes. In 1986, Burkina Faso and Mali jointly submitted a border conflict to the ICJ, leading to a peaceful resolution. More recently, the Court settled a maritime dispute between Somalia and Kenya in 2021, and The Gambia filed a case against Myanmar in 2019 for alleged genocide under the Genocide Convention.

These examples show that the ICJ can be an effective forum—but only when the jurisdictional foundations are solid.

Possible Avenues for Mali

So what can Bamako do to improve its chances? First, it must identify a clear legal instrument that grants the ICJ jurisdiction. This could be a multilateral treaty ratified by both countries that includes a jurisdictional clause, or a special agreement between the parties—though the current political climate makes the latter unlikely.

Second, Mali may choose to pursue more realistic interim goals, such as provisional measures aimed at de-escalation, rather than banking on a full condemnation of Algeria at this stage.

Third, and perhaps most importantly, Mali must present compelling and irrefutable evidence: drone registration details, flight trajectory data, and precise geographic coordinates of the incident. Without concrete proof, the case could quickly unravel.

Finally, diplomatic support will be crucial. Mali will need to rally backing from regional bodies like the African Union and ECOWAS, as well as from international partners, to lend weight to its legal strategy.

Symbolism vs. Substance

Even if the case never makes it to the merits stage, Mali’s decision to go to the ICJ is significant. It signals Bamako’s desire to internationalize its dispute with Algeria and test the limits of global judicial mechanisms in resolving African conflicts.

In a region where military confrontations and political tensions often dominate headlines, the turn to law—however uncertain—represents a notable shift in strategy. Whether this leads to a legal victory or merely a symbolic statement, one thing is clear: Mali is playing a long game, and the world is watching.