Niger’s defense power play: the hidden fault lines behind the CFPD and the Domol Leydi

Behind Niger’s security apparatus lies a deeper struggle over personnel, resources and the levers of state control. The story of the CFPD and the Domol Leydi is not just about defense policy it is a window into how power is brokered, contested and consolidated at the highest levels of the Nigerien state.

The three men at the center of the storm

Three major figures sit at the heart of this entanglement: General Abdourahamane Tiani, General Salifou Mody and former Prime Minister Lamine Zeine. Their overlapping roles and diverging interests have turned what might have been a straightforward administrative matter into a high-stakes contest over who controls the tools of national defense.

A 2024 decree that shifted the ground

On May 9, 2024, Decree No. 2024-309/P/CNSP/MDN formally established the Commandement des Forces de Protection et de Développement (CFPD). This was no symbolic gesture. The force was designed to protect mining and petroleum sites, strategic infrastructure, corridors and several development projects. The Agence Nigérienne de Presse had described the CFPD as an instrument meant to secure extractive resources, the WAPCO pipeline, CNPC-NP, SORAZ and strategic corridors.

The decree also laid out a specific financial mechanism and that is where the file took on a far more sensitive dimension. A military force does not function on orders alone. It requires equipment, transport, food, logistics, maintenance and, above all, predictable funding. The text organized precisely this machinery.

The 12,000 FCFA per man per day that opens a 20 billion FCFA equation

Article 28 of the decree states that corporate contributions are collected on the basis of contracts signed with the state, and that a Prime Unique d’Astreinte is paid back to the CFPD according to actual troop numbers. The minimum indicated is 12,000 FCFA per man per day. The text also breaks down several components of this envelope: daily duty allowance, food, hygiene, operations and maintenance.

Using a hypothetical force of 5,000 men, the order of magnitude reaches roughly 60 million FCFA per day nearly 1.8 billion per month and about 21.9 billion over a year. But an essential caveat applies: this is a projection based on the theoretical troop count and the mechanism set out in the text, not proof that such sums were actually collected. That is precisely what makes the inquiry necessary.

The real question is not simply: how much could the system generate? It is far more precise: how much was actually committed? How much was paid? For how many men? For which missions? And to which beneficiaries?

The CFPD is real and that complicates the picture

It would be too simple to present the CFPD as an abandoned structure. In 2026, Defense Minister Salifou Mody publicly stated that personnel from the Force de Protection et de Développement were engaged in securing economic installations, notably at pipeline-related posts. The CFPD exists. It is officially integrated into the defense architecture. It carries out certain missions.

But another question remains: does its actual operation fully match the architecture, troop levels and financial mechanism originally planned? This is where administrative and financial documents become essential. Between planned and actually deployed troop numbers, between theoretically mobilizable and actually paid sums, there can be a considerable gap. And that gap must be documentable.

Who controls the financial chain?

Information reported in this case suggests that CFPD funding has been at the heart of tensions between different power centers. One particularly sensitive claim attributes to President Tiani an instruction aimed at not implementing certain financial provisions of the system. At this stage, no public document consulted allows this instruction to be formally established.

But if confirmed, the scope of the affair would go far beyond a simple administrative difficulty. It would raise a major institutional question: how can a system created by decree function when some of its financial provisions are allegedly deliberately blocked or delayed? The question is all the more important because the decree itself organizes the CFPD’s resources and their use.

The Finance Ministry at the heart of the problem

The supposed conflict then takes on a broader dimension. On one side, Defense seeks the means necessary for its missions. On the other, the ministry responsible for finance must control public resources and their use. Above both sits the political authority that arbitrates.

It is this articulation that must be examined. In a highly centralized defense system, controlling resources also means controlling operational capacity. Whoever controls the credits controls part of the means. Whoever controls troop numbers controls another part of the power. And whoever arbitrates between the two holds the ultimate lever.

Zeine loses Finance but keeps the Prime Ministership

In January 2026, Lamine Zeine lost the Economy and Finance portfolio while retaining the Prime Ministership. This change deserves scrutiny. It alters the distribution of levers without necessarily changing the overall political balance.

The question then becomes: why strip Zeine of direct control over finances while keeping him at the head of government? Information reported in this case suggests General Mody subsequently considered taking the head of government, with the possibility of combining that role with Defense. This information is not established by the public documents consulted. But if confirmed, it would reveal a much deeper issue: the concentration in the same hands of the two main levers of state power Defense and the Prime Ministership.

Domol Leydi enters the scene

Then comes a new stage. In late 2025, Niger adopted an ordinance establishing general mobilization. The authorities presented it as a mechanism designed to allow the transition from a state of peace to a state of war and to mobilize the human, material and financial resources needed for the defense of the homeland.

Within this framework, community self-defense organizations called “Domol Leydi” appeared. The Defense Minister himself explained in April 2026 that these organizations must work under the control and supervision of the Defense and Security Forces. The system therefore officially responds to a security logic. But its emergence raises a strategic question: why multiply mobilization and protection mechanisms when a specialized command like the CFPD already exists?

The missions are not identical. The CFPD is a military structure tasked notably with protecting strategic interests. Domol Leydi is more about territorial mobilization and community self-defense. But the two systems meet on common ground: men, security, resources and the chain of command.

The real problem: the blurred lines between the systems

From this point, one question becomes unavoidable: where does the CFPD’s role end and Domol Leydi’s begin? Who recruits? Who trains? Who equips? Who finances? Who gives orders? Who controls the men? And above all, who answers politically and legally when something goes wrong?

These questions are not secondary. The more a state multiplies structures intervening in the security domain, the more essential clarity in the chain of command becomes. Sovereignty is not measured only by the number of soldiers mobilized. It is also measured by the state’s ability to know who commands whom, with what means and under what control.

The mystery of troop numbers

This may be one of the keys to the case. The CFPD’s financial mechanism is calculated according to actual troop numbers. This means an apparently technical question becomes politically fundamental: how many men were actually deployed and how many actually generated expenses under the system?

The answer should be found in administrative documents: troop rosters, mission orders, attendance sheets, security contracts, expenditure commitments, payment orders, execution reports. Without these documents, the billions remain projections. With them, it becomes possible to reconstruct precisely the financial reality of the system.

Who controls the contracts?

The decree provides that corporate contributions rest on contracts established between these companies and the state. This provision opens another line of investigation. Which companies signed these contracts? What amounts were agreed? What security services were planned? How many personnel were to be assigned to each site? Were the services actually performed? Were the corresponding sums fully paid? And above all: which administration ensures control of this financial chain?

These answers would make it possible to determine whether the affair is a simple operational problem or a much more serious dysfunction.

When security also becomes a question of power

At this stage, the case ceases to be a simple matter of decree. It touches the very structure of power. The CFPD concentrates men and missions. Companies may contribute to its funding under the planned mechanism. The Defense Ministry supervises the operational dimension. Finance necessarily intervenes in the public resource chain. The Prime Ministership constitutes another coordination center. And the presidency retains supreme political authority.

In other words, several essential levers intersect around a single system. That is precisely what makes any opacity concerning.

High treason cannot be treated lightly

The term “high treason” is extremely heavy. It cannot simply be used to describe a political conflict or a bad administrative decision. Nigerien law has historically associated this notion with particularly grave attacks on the fundamental interests of the state. The 2010 Constitution, for example, referred notably to breach of oath, certain grave human rights violations, fraudulent cession of part of the territory or compromising national interests in the management of natural resources.

The current institutional situation must nonetheless be assessed in light of the Charter of Refoundation, which now constitutes the fundamental text governing public powers during this period. The journalistic issue is therefore not to declare that “high treason” is already established. The real question is more demanding: if public officials knowingly diverted, paralyzed or manipulated a strategic defense system for personal or factional interests, what legal and institutional consequences could follow? This question can only be settled by evidence.

The most sensitive scenario: instrumentalization of defense resources

Here lies the heart of the matter. A state facing a major security threat creates a system to protect its strategic resources. A financial mechanism is planned. Troops are to be mobilized. Companies are called upon to contribute. If, in parallel, personal or institutional rivalries were to determine who receives the means, who controls them or who can prevent their implementation, then the problem would no longer be merely administrative. It would directly touch the governance of national defense.

But this hypothesis must still be demonstrated. It requires documents, corroborating testimony and financial traceability.

Figures will speak louder than speeches

The government can talk about sovereignty. Military officials can talk about mobilization. Communiqués can talk about security. But documents will tell another story that of expenditures actually made.

It will therefore be necessary to compare: announced versus actual troop numbers; planned versus executed missions; theoretical amounts versus actual payments; signed contracts versus services actually provided; announced structures versus their actual operation. This confrontation will determine the real scale of the case.

The question that remains

The CFPD-Domol Leydi affair does not, on its own, establish an accusation of high treason. But it raises enough questions to justify a thorough examination of the chain of command, troop numbers, contracts and, above all, financial flows.

When a defense system is associated with potentially considerable resources, the issue cannot be solely about who commands the men. It must also be about: who controls the money; who controls the contracts; who verifies troop numbers; who controls services; who can block or unblock resources; and who is ultimately accountable for their use.

That is perhaps the true knot of the affair. And if documentary evidence were to show that particular interests had effectively taken precedence over national defense interests, the question would no longer be a simple tug-of-war between officials. It would become a question of state. For in matters of national defense, diverting resources, manipulating structures or deliberately neutralizing a strategic system would not be a mere power quarrel: it would potentially be a grave attack on the fundamental interests of the Nation.

For now, established facts, source claims and hypotheses must be carefully distinguished. But one thing is certain: the only way to lift the veil on this affair will be to follow the men, the orders, the contracts and above all the money.

By Jeanne Ntouba — Reporter

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