The successful December 2024 capture of Syria by Abu Mohammed al-Jolani (now Ahmed al-Sharaa) and Hayat Tahrir al-Sham (HTS) marked a pivotal moment for jihadist groups affiliated with al-Qaeda and the Islamic State around the world. It showed that with enough patience and the right buy-in from civil society, jihadist groups—or at least, one-time jihadist groups—can ultimately achieve their goals of taking over states. HTS had, in many senses, won.
Thus, in certain analytical circles, the assumption ran that other jihadist groups around the world might find inspiration in the success of HTS in Syria and seek to emulate its unique playbook, discussed in more detail below. Indeed, in the aftermath of the takeover, there has been no shortage of observers questioning its potential impact on African jihadist groups.1 One commentator noted that wins by both HTS and the Taliban might “serve as models for other jihadist groups.”2 Perhaps most notably, Wasim Nasr, arguably the best-connected journalist to the panoply of jihadist groups worldwide, started a conversation in the CTC Sentinel in December 2024. He suggested that the HTS model—especially the group’s breakaway from al-Qaeda—might be inspiring the Sahel-based Jama’at Nusrat ul-Islam wa al-Muslimin (JNIM) and argued that HTS “could be a blueprint for other jihadi groups, including in the Sahel.”3 Another commentator, writing in January 2025, noted that
HTS’s place in the jihadist matrix means that many extremist groups operating throughout the globe, and particularly in Africa, are looking to Syria for lessons to apply to their own theaters of operation. Should HTS embrace restraint, tolerating (or even extending equal citizenship to) religious minorities, this could act as a moderating catalyst for jihadists in regions like the Sahel.4
Indeed, as recently as July 2025, observers in the Sahel suggested there were “a series of signs of change” that were “carried by a persistent rumor” and suggested that JNIM has “the initiative to disaffiliate from the parent company al-Qaeda.”5
More than six months after the initial HTS takeover, this piece interrogates the reality, asking to what extent various branches and provinces of al-Qaeda and the Islamic State in Africa have been inspired by (and are reforming their activities to mimic) the HTS model of “success.” And to what extent, if any, does this inspiration vary along the lines of the Islamic State and al-Qaeda?
While I initially sought to compare the reactions of the Islamic State and al-Qaeda affiliates, an early discovery bears laying out up front: the Islamic State’s African affiliates under investigation, the Islamic State West Africa Province (ISWAP) and in the Greater Sahara (ISGS), did not publicly react to the HTS takeover at all. For two of the major Islamic State groups in Africa, the HTS victory was a non-starter as a path to emulate. There are no indications of any degree of inspiration from the organization across any of the subsequently discussed six dimensions. They did not congratulate the group in word, and none of their deeds have suggested reform efforts to more closely mimic its approaches. Because of the lack of evidence from Islamic State groups, this piece will instead focus on the pseudo-reaction from al-Qaeda groups.
Thus, this piece asks, To what extent have various branches and provinces of al-Qaeda in Africa taken inspiration and reformed their activities to mimic HTS “success” in capturing the Syrian state in December 2024? In the main, it shows that although HTS’s successes might be of interest to African jihadist groups, these groups have, to date, shown relatively little deep response to either congratulate HTS in word or to newly change their modus operandi to follow its playbook in deed. Overall, Africa’s al-Qaeda-linked groups—JNIM and al-Shabaab—have shown mild degrees of inspiration by the HTS takeover largely because HTS’s tactics often mirror their own. African Islamic State groups, namely ISWAP and ISGS, have shown no inspiration at all. To explain this somewhat surprising phenomenon, this piece suggests that the four main reasons the HTS model has not generated more enthusiasm among many African jihadist groups are that its model is not new, desirable, replicable, or ultimately necessary.
This piece proceeds in three main sections. First, it broadly outlines the six strategies that came to define the HTS playbook. Second, it examines the extent to which al-Qaeda groups in Africa have shown the HTS model inspires them, either in what they have said about HTS or how they have modeled their behavior after it in the aftermath of its takeover. The third section offers explanations for the somewhat antithetical finding that, despite ostensibly espousing similar aims to HTS, no African jihadist groups have shown they are copying its approach.
The Six Components of the HTS Model
Before examining the extent to which African jihadist groups are following the HTS model in the aftermath of its success, it is imperative to delineate just what the HTS model includes. This piece suggests it comprises at least six novel strategies:
- Disavowing violence against civilians
- Framing itself as a legitimate alternative authority
- Pursuing a strategy of localization
- Considering negotiations with governments
- Collaborating with a strong regional state
- Breaking away from transnational jihadist groups
1. Disavowing Violence Against Civilians
HTS actively sought to distance itself from the indiscriminate violence that characterized other extremist groups and the former Bashar al-Assad regime. To be sure, past actions by groups associated with HTS have indeed included human rights abuses (especially Jabhat al-Nusra6), and even the actions of HTS did earlier in its existence, as in 2019.7 However, by 2020, HTS had formed its General Security Service (GSS), one component of which was to protect civilians in the areas it had liberated.8 And, as Dino Krause notes, following its break from al-Qaeda, HTS became “more flexible in dealing with civilian resistance.”9
Notably, in the lead-up to and during the December 2024 offensive, HTS reportedly took steps to minimize civilian casualties; initial reports suggested an effort to maintain order in newly captured areas. For example, during the rapid advances in late 2024, reports indicated that HTS attempted to curb misconduct by security forces in areas like al-Bahluliyah, following civilian demonstrations against such actions. When protestors burned a Christmas tree in Suqaylabiyah, a Christian-majority town in central Syria, in December 2024—soon after HTS had taken over—an HTS member assured counter-protestors that the rights of Syria’s religious minorities would be respected. Reports state that he held up a cross as a form of solidarity and promised Christians that the tree would be repaired by the next morning.10
However, recent killings of Syrian minorities—including the massacre of some 1,500 Alawites by Sunni militias allied with the current Syrian government—speak to the fungibility of claims of civilian protection.11 Nevertheless, despite government actions after the HTS takeover, the point remains that a moderated stance on civilian violence was an important strategy to achieve the takeover.
2. Framing Itself as a Legitimate Alternative Authority
Since its founding in 2017, HTS actively worked to establish itself as a viable governing entity, both in opposition to the al-Assad regime and in contrast to more extreme armed groups in its operational environment. Through the establishment of the Syrian Salvation Government (SSG) in 2017, HTS sought to provide public services, administer justice, and maintain law and order, portraying itself as a functional alternative to the collapsed Assad state and the nihilistic ideology of ISIS. Dino Krause notes, for instance, that even before 2020,
[HTS] made further notable concessions to the local population. For example, they allowed Christians to hold church services and women to attend universities and drive cars—seemingly quite basic measures that are, however, remarkable given the group’s radical jihadist past. Additionally, HTS has integrated civilians into its governmental administration and adopted a technocratic style of governance, even in sensitive ideological areas such as education and religion, where the group initially sought to exclusively appoint its own personnel.12
Echoing this sentiment, when visiting Idlib in April and May 2023, journalist Wassim Nasr noted that the most surprising elements were the absence of military forces and HTS’s robust and organized civilian administration, including the running of checkpoints.13 As Krause noted in December 2024, “al-Shar’a and HTS have shown that they seek public legitimacy and are willing to respond to the demands of the population.”14
3. Pursuing a Strategy of Localization
HTS consistently pursued a strategy of “Syrianization,” shifting its focus from global jihadist aims to a more localized, Syrian-centric struggle.15 Doing so had a double goal: on one hand, it showed a commitment to the cause of the Syrian revolution, but secondly, it made HTS appear less antagonistic to international actors, taking itself out of their crosshairs to some extent. As Jacob Zenn noted in 2022,
In recent months, the northwestern Syria-based militant group Hayat Tahrir al-Sham (HTS), which operates under the leadership of Abu Muhammed al-Julani, has reasserted that its operational and geographical agenda is limited to only a local scope. The group, furthermore, has lived up to these claims by no longer publicly calling for or conducting any attacks outside of Syria. Likewise, HTS has made clear that its main enemies are Bashar al-Assad’s government (and his Russian backers) as well as the Islamic State.16
Simultaneously, as HTS worked to eschew international entanglements, it also sought to burnish its local credentials by absorbing various local opposition factions into its military and administrative structures.17 This step broadened its base of support and made it appear as a more unified Syrian force rather than as one directed by or composed of external forces. Indeed, one might consider HTS an analogue of another al-Qaeda affiliate, al-Shabaab, which, despite falling under al-Qaeda’s global purview to attack the “far enemy,” remained primarily concerned with its local and/or regional areas of operation.
4. Considering Negotiations
Prior to its final push in December 2024, HTS demonstrated a pragmatic willingness to engage in various forms of negotiations, whether with local actors, regional powers, or even, indirectly, with international bodies. This was a significant departure from the rigid “no negotiation” stance that HTS itself held as recently as 2018,18 and that of many other hardline jihadist groups, a trend more common to IS than al-Qaeda. For example, HTS had been part of various de-escalation agreements, even allowing Turkish troops to patrol North-West Syria as part of the Astana negotiations in 2017.19 More recently, even on the eve of the HTS takeover in December 2024, al-Sharaa emphasized to Wassim Nasr the importance of dialogue with Syria’s various sects: “In Syria, we spoke with all the communities, the Druze, who fought alongside us, the Christians, the Alawites, and the Kurds.”20 Even if purely tactical, such an openness to negotiations and engagements with non-Islamist actors has helped to project an image of a more rational actor capable of compromise, chipping away at its international isolation.
5. Collaborating with a Strong Regional State
One of HTS’s more advantageous strategies was to ally with regional power Turkey. While the exact nature of their relationship remains unclear, analysts like Lucas Winter consider that HTS operated under “de facto Turkish protection” in Idlib and, more generally, existed under Turkey’s broad if informal security umbrella from roughly late 2017 to the present.21 Indeed, analysis suggesting that Turkey had a broader role in the HTS takeover advance in November and December 2024 is also rife.22
6. Breaking Away from Transnational Jihadist Groups
Perhaps one of HTS’s most significant long-term strategies was its sustained effort to officially and practically distance itself from its former al-Qaeda affiliation. After originating as Jabhat al-Nusra, al-Qaeda’s official Syrian branch, the group severed ties with al-Qaeda in 2016, rebranding as Jabhat Fatah al-Sham and then forming HTS in 2017. By formally distancing itself from the two major jihadist groups, al-Qaeda and the Islamic State, HTS was able to portray itself as (more or less) another political actor. And, as Jerome Drevon and Patrick Haenni have assessed,
The first step in HTS’s transformation was to sever its transnationalism. . . . While HTS had not engaged in foreign attacks prior to 2017, when it was still Jabhat al-Nusra, it had an allegiance to two transnational groups, IS [the Islamic State] and then al-Qaeda, making it a target of international scrutiny. Renouncing global jihad was crucial in gaining broader acceptance and reducing external pressure, as many other armed groups were hesitant to unite with HTS due to this transnational connection to al-Qaeda and IS.23
While space necessarily limits these discussions, they outline the broad contours of HTS’s unique “playbook,” which has arguably helped propel the group to success.
Al-Qaeda Affiliates’ Reactions to HTS Success
This outline of the HTS playbook in Syria provides instances of behavior, strategies of sorts, that African jihadist groups might support. As mentioned, though this piece originally sought to investigate this question by comparing al-Qaeda and Islamic State affiliates, we found neither of the Islamic State affiliates—ISWAP or ISGS—showed any inspiration at all. As such, instead, this piece investigates the responses of the two al-Qaeda affiliates, JNIM and al-Shabaab, to HTS’s success.
JNIM
At its core, JNIM is the African jihadist group that has, in theory, drawn the most inspiration from the HTS takeover. As an al-Qaeda affiliate, it takes a more pragmatic view of governance than Islamic State counterparts like HTS. But as an umbrella movement of various jihadist group members, ethnicities, nationalities, and even ideologies, JNIM is also necessarily a “big tent” coalition. However, overall, its response is still quite muted, and the extent to which it is drawing inspiration has numerous caveats.
Of note, JNIM does not appear to have explicitly referenced the HTS takeover in any of its propaganda. Indeed, as an al-Qaeda affiliate—which intuitively retains allegiance to al-Qaeda—it would be difficult to publicly vaunt HTS, an al-Qaeda defector. Nevertheless, as shown below, JNIM has indeed been pursuing some HTS-like behavior, yet it was doing so prior to the HTS takeover; thus the group did not necessarily inspire its actions.
Non-civilian targeting. As an al-Qaeda affiliate, JNIM has historically worked to limit civilian casualties, at least theoretically. Indeed, a significant differentiator between al-Qaeda and Islamic State approaches to violence is the admissibility of civilian targeting; al-Qaeda takes a much more limited view, and the Islamic State takes a much more expansive one. These instructions in former leader Ayman al-Zawahiri’s 2013 General Guidelines for Jihad rulebook inform al-Qaeda’s ethos on limiting civilian targeting:
- Generally, avoid fighting or targeting those who have not raised arms against us or aided in any such hostile act and maintain focus primarily on the Crusader Alliance and then upon their local surrogates.
- Refrain from killing and fighting against non-combatant women and children, and even if they are families of those who are fighting against us, refrain from targeting them as much as possible.
- Refrain from harming Muslims by explosions, killing, kidnapping, or destroying their wealth or property.
- Refrain from targeting enemies in mosques, markets, and gatherings where they mix with Muslims or with those who do not fight us.24
However, in a December 2024 interview with Wassim Nasr, JNIM deputy commander Amadou Koufa underscored the extent to which al-Qaeda intended this to reflect official policy when he claimed that JNIM tries to avoid hitting civilian targets. (In practice, as discussed below, this policy is highly mutable and often goes unfollowed). Nevertheless, for instance, Koufa noted that “the brother of the Ansaroul Islam leader encouraged civilians in Djibo to move away from military sites and leave the city in general for their own safety after the recent attack on May 13.”25 Indeed, as Daniele Garofolo has written,
JNIM attacks are mainly directed against military infrastructure, convoys of local armies and civilian targets in major Malian and Burkinabé cities, and against MINUSMA and Wagner. The latter has increased the consensus and recruitment of the JNIM in the area due to its excessive violence. Violence against civilians increased after the arrival of the Russian mercenary group. Wagner’s attacks have targeted Fulani civilian communities mainly because of his alleged links to the armed jihadist group Jama’at Nusrat al-Islam wal-Muslimin (JNIM).26
Moreover, as James Barnett has pointed out, JNIM propaganda often centers the civilian casualties that the Russian Wagner Group, regional Sahelian militaries, and even the Islamic State in the Sahel Province cause. In this way, JNIM portrays itself as more humanitarian than its enemies.27
Nevertheless, while it may take inspiration from HTS, JNIM is far from protective of civilians. As Koufa admitted in the interview with Nasr, JNIM has worked to discourage citizens from cooperating with the government, but it does not hesitate to punish those who refuse.28 Moreover, Koufa agreed that JNIM had indeed targeted uncooperative villagers, seemingly acknowledging the doublespeak involved in its castigation of Russian and Islamic State Sahel’s violence against civilians.29
Alternatives to brutal governments and other jihadist groups. Again, in the same vein as HTS, JNIM has worked for several years to portray itself as a viable alternative to Sahelian governments in Mali, Burkina Faso, and Niger, their Eurasian counterterror partners (recently Russia but previously France and the United States), and competing Islamic State affiliates, the latter of whom AQIM (al-Qaeda in the Islamic Maghreb) leader Abu Obeida Youssef al-Aanabi, called “deviants” in a 2023 interview.30 Moreover, in the December 2024 interview with Nasr, Koufa articulated that part of the rationale for JNIM fighting ISGS was the latter’s “‘indiscriminate violence against civilians’ in areas where the population is loyal to JNIM and beyond.”31
Yet long before the HTS takeover, JNIM was already working to establish itself as a trusted, legitimate alternative to local and national governments and other jihadist groups. Observers have long noted that JNIM installs itself in local communities, creates local businesses, and gets involved in community dispute resolution and other forms of governance.32 Indeed, as Caleb Weiss wrote in 2022, JNIM’s integration into local communities and the winning of citizens’ hearts and minds in Mali and the broader Sahel were part and parcel of “AQIM’s playbook” for expansion in the Sahel.33 As Daniel Garofalo writes in 2025,
The expansion of the JNIM in northern Mali and the Sahelian area is linked to social, political, and economic factors rather than ideological factors. Jihadist groups have managed to create an alternative and more efficient welfare system than that of the central government, through the distribution of necessities and care services, employment, education (always linked to radicalism), the administration of justice, and the defence of communities and minorities.34
In other words, even though observers may view JNIM as undertaking some degree of legitimacy-seeking governance, its proclivity to do so in no way began in December 2024.
Localization. Another way in which JNIM has been mirroring HTS is its tendency to rhetorically prioritize its localization and thus to avoid drawing the ire of international coalitions, despite its historically more layered local, regional, and international disposition.35 But yet again, JNIM was already on the path to asserting its localization efforts well before the HTS takeover. Notably, in March 2024, AQIM’s leader bemoaned the fact that the West did not realize al-Qaeda’s enemies in the Sahel were local and that it had no desire to take external (Western) targets outside its areas of operation.36 Apart from simply not taunting or attacking international targets, JNIM has also moved to appear more legitimate on the international stage. Again, these efforts predate December 2024. For instance, in May 2023, JNIM militants released an Australian hostage, Ken Elliot, with no ransom paid.37 As analysts like Jacob Zenn have assessed, JNIM likely released 88-year-old Elliot, who may have otherwise died in captivity, as a “demonstration of its intent to win goodwill on the international stage.”38
Suggestions to negotiate. The fourth metric for assessing JNIM in the vein of the HTS model is its willingness to negotiate. In his December 2024 interview with Koufa, Nasr relayed that Koufa “stated that JNIM were still open to negotiations with the government and what he referred to as ‘conflict resolution.’” On September 20, 2024, Koufa stated the same in an audiotape released by the group about the need for conflict resolution.39 However, others like Zacharias Pieri and Ahmad Partaw have shown that JNIM has faced challenges in its attempts to negotiate due to “contextual churn,” or difficulty finding a negotiating partner due to the ever-changing cast of would-be players in Mali.40
Collaborating with a strong regional state. Unlike HTS, JNIM has no hope whatsoever of receiving any genre of assistance from a regional state. Its operations extend across at least Sahelian states—Mali, Burkina Faso, Niger, Togo, and Benin—and all other regional states fear its entrance into their borders. On this front, JNIM finds no inspiration in HTS tactics.
Distancing itself from al-Qaeda. Yet it is in the sixth, most extreme dimension—the likelihood of rupture from al-Qaeda—that JNIM arguably does not show as much replication as HTS. In short, though there has indeed been discussion about the potential rupture of JNIM from al-Qaeda, this is perhaps not as likely as some have suggested. One of the core tidbits of knowledge about JNIM’s inner logic regarding an al-Qaeda break came from the December 2024 CTC Sentinel interview with Nasr:
The three questions [Koufa] did not answer related to Hamas and the situation in Gaza, the Taliban, and al-Qa`ida Central. He did not want to speak about al-Qa`ida at all. He did not answer any of the questions regarding al-Qa`ida. I followed up with some local sources with knowledge of the deliberations of the group on this and they conveyed to me that his silence on al-Qa`ida had a purpose. In my assessment, Koufa’s refusal to speak about al-Qa`ida was significant. I think it’s very possible that JNIM is at least seriously discussing and maybe preparing to break from al-Qa`ida.
Since the last third of December [2024], JNIM has stopped referring to AQIM and stopped directing followers to the AQIM media outlet Al-Izza. Furthermore, very interestingly, on January 20, 2025, AQIM issued a communiqué regarding the Gaza war, which for the first time did not come in the form of a joint communique with JNIM. And looking back at the audio answers of Koufa, I noticed that the compilation did not start as usual with a graphic of AQ media branches nor with the regular audio of OBL, but rather only with the al-Zallaqa logo. Even the nasheed used in the compilation was not an al-Qa`ida nasheed. It looks like they might be preparing the landscape for a split with al-Qa`ida in the same way that Jabhat al-Nusra—the predecessor group of Hayat Tahrir al Sham (HTS), the group now in power in Syria—split with al-Qa`ida.41
Certainly, on the surface, this collection of circumstantial evidence, combined with the success of HTS in Syria around the time the piece was published, might reasonably suggest that JNIM could be anticipating a break. But would this be likely?
Unknowable at present, a full rupture—the most extreme plank of the HTS model—would be unlikely in the case of JNIM for four reasons. First, JNIM has already had historical opportunities to disavow its relations with Al-Qaeda and has never shown any real intention to do so. Second, at least at the current moment, there are no clear offensive benefits to renouncing affiliation with al-Qaeda: JNIM is not necessarily on the precipice of state capture. With aspirations as a terrorist insurgency, not a global legitimacy-seeking new government, it need not take such a drastic step. Third, there are also no clear defensive rationales: given the current disarray of the Sahelian geopolitical landscape, it remains unlikely that JNIM would gain much protection by renouncing al-Qaeda. Western forces are already not keen to fight JNIM in a serious way, thus as long as it avoids implicating itself in a Western-based attack, JNIM would gain little by shedding its al-Qaeda label.42 Fourth and finally, as will be discussed further, the success of the Taliban, which did not renounce its global jihadist ethos, arguably serves as a better model for a would-be JNIM rise to power.
Al-Shabaab
After JNIM, al-Shabaab appears to be the African group most likely to draw inspiration from the HTS model and seek to emulate it. Indeed, as an al-Qaeda affiliate, al-Shabaab comes from a more accommodationist stance than Islamic State groups, has already engaged in wide-scale governance, has publicly disavowed the targeting of civilians, and has long sought legitimacy. As one commentator has noted, “The Al-Shabaab group in Somalia is the branch of al-Qaeda perhaps most likely to follow the HTS model.”43 But have any changes in word or deed been evident since the HTS takeover?
For its part, al-Shabaab offered tempered congratulations. As Stig Hansen described, in early December 2024, al-Shabaab began by commending the “Sunni forces” of Syria—not HTS directly—for their efforts against the Assad regime and praised their technical achievements in drone warfare anti-tank capabilities and the Sednaya prison liberation. However, as Hansen notes, “HTS is not praised directly, and there are no direct congratulations to HTS. There are simply no direct celebrations of HTS, only of the general victories over the Assad regime.” As December wore on, even the nods to HTS’s technical achievements waned.44 But Hansen points out that
al-Shabaab never condemned HTS. In the words of an al-Shabaab propaganda leader, they were uncertain about the organization’s intentions and its interactions with other powers in the Middle East. Al-Shabaab was confused, but hopeful, and remains so today [January 2025]. The change in the profile of HTS and its more local focus might also have been seen as dangerous to al-Shabaab, inspiring leaders to distance the group from the al-Qaida network, and even to seek cooperation with more secular organizations.45
While these early commendations serve as the clearest evidence of inspiration in word, in deed, al-Shabaab’s behavior has not changed in any way to suggest it is seeking to be more like HTS. Indeed, like JNIM, it had already been undertaking some platforms of the HTS model even before HTS itself.
Non-civilian targeting. Al-Shabaab may have theoretically been inspired by HTS’s non-civilian targeting, but it was arguably espousing a civilian protection rhetoric long before HTS even existed. As detailed above, al-Shabaab, as an al-Qaeda affiliate, has historically had to adhere to its parent’s broader ethos of avoiding civilian casualties as laid out in Zawahiri’s General Guidelines for Jihad. For instance, a main finding of a 2018 report on al-Shabaab’s suicide bombers was precisely that the group aims to target symbols of the Somali state; at that time, it was working assiduously to avoid civilian casualties.46 Notably, for instance, when it killed over 500 civilians in an October 2017 truck explosion that authorities deemed an accident, al-Shabaab never claimed the attack although it was one of the deadliest incidents of terrorism in the twenty-first century. This was presumably because of its unintentional major harm to civilians.47 But, like its al-Qaeda analogue JNIM, al-Shabaab still harms civilians, and there has been no indication that it has worked to mitigate or minimize that harm in any real way since the HTS takeover, nor has it made any known proclamations suggesting a change in outlook. If al-Shabaab has taken inspiration from HTS on this front, it is apparent in neither word nor deed.
Framing as a legitimate alternative authority. On this front, al-Shabaab was following the HTS model even before HTS was undertaking such steps. Since its inception, al-Shabaab has sought to show itself as a viable alternative to the Somali state, undertaking governance, legal rulings, and taxation—all functions of the state—for far longer than HTS.48 As Tricia Bacon and I articulated in 2021,
Part insurgent group, part terrorist organization, part shadow government, and part mafia, al-Shabaab effectively combines provisionary and punitive governance to regularly outperform the Somali government. On the provisional side, it provides harsh but relatively predictable order in the areas it controls and justice through its shadow governance in areas it does not directly control. In contrast, the government is at best absent and at worst unpredictable and predatory. Even people residing outside of al-Shabaab’s territory choose to use its judicial system and its roads. Its courts have a reputation for being more efficient, effective, and fair than the government’s. At its checkpoints, the group charges set tolls and provides receipts, while government checkpoints charge arbitrary amounts at multiple points on the same road. On the punitive front, its extortion racket is coercive and widely resented, but it extracts funds from all sectors of the economy, giving the group reach throughout southern Somalia and a budgetary surplus.49
As one analyst stated forthrightly in June 2025, “al-Shabaab’s resurgence has less to do with its military capacity than with its ability to govern and control populations.”50
In addition to asserting itself as superior to the Somali state, al-Shabaab has worked to outperform its closest jihadi rival, the Islamic State in Somalia, a goal that it has easily accomplished.51 For al-Shabaab, the HTS model is not new but one it has been pursuing for years. In some sense, then, al-Shabaab more likely informed HTS’s trajectory than the other way around.
Pursuing a strategy of localization. On this front, HTS’s “localization” strategy is not likely to resonate with al-Shabaab. Indeed, one aspect of al-Shabaab’s historical uniqueness is the fact that it has remained hyperlocal, national, regional, and internationally oriented all at once. Certain analysts underscore the importance of this “transnational, globalist aspect to its organizational identity.”52 While it ebbs and flows in its commitment to pursuing certain agendas over others, the likelihood that it would fully seek to localize to get into the good graces of the international community is virtually nonexistent.
Indeed, since the HTS takeover, al-Shabaab has been expanding its collaboration with international threat actors, namely in the reported—though highly debated—emergence of its new drone-sharing practices with the Houthis in Yemen.53 While this action does not necessarily indicate a globalist agenda by any stretch, it does not indicate an increasingly localized outlook.
Considering negotiations. For its part, al-Shabaab has shown some degree of openness to negotiations. Notably, some analysts have argued—though often without much evidence—that al-Shabaab has sought to negotiate with the United States. As one analyst has written,
Al-Shabaab has been seeking for some time to talk to the United States, similar to Washington’s past consultations with the Taliban in Doha that resulted in the complete withdrawal of the US army from Afghanistan and the group’s subsequent assumption of power. . . . al-Shabaab views the Taliban experience as one it can emulate to consolidate its power in Somalia. It also envisions an effective Qatari mediation role.”54
Certain analysts, however, debate this claim. Moreover, in June 2025, another analyst underscored al-Shabaab’s reversions to the “familiar tactic of negotiating local power-sharing agreements,” in this instance, with pro-government Macawiisley fighters.55 Indeed, for al-Shabaab, unlike Islamic State adherents, negotiations are on the table, though not because of any clear inspiration from HTS.
Collaborating with a strong regional state. Like JNIM, al-Shabaab has no hopes of allying itself with a strong regional state, as was the strategy of HTS in its relationship with Turkey. al-Shabaab’s closest analogue is its enduring—if arguably superficial—relations with the Houthis in Yemen, one of the disputed sovereigns of the state. Nevertheless, that relationship would scarcely afford al-Shabaab the benefits that HTS accrued from Turkey.
Breaking with al-Qaeda. While a rupture from al-Qaeda may have been beneficial for HTS and might be somewhat feasible for JNIM, the likelihood that al-Shabaab will break off relations with its parent group remains extremely low. Al-Shabaab has long been al-Qaeda’s most powerful affiliate and a fiercely loyal one;56 analysts underscore the hard-won and enduring nature of their relationship.57 Notably, when the Islamic State emerged in 2014 and worked to convince al-Shabaab to renounce al-Qaeda and join it, al-Shabaab responded angrily and began to assassinate individuals in its ranks who expressed pro-Islamic State sympathies.58 For al-Shabaab, there exists little tangible benefit in abandoning its al-Qaeda affiliation, at least when its capacity to fully overtake the reins of the state remains as unlikely as it currently is.
Thus, in sum, while both JNIM and al-Shabaab seemingly found what HTS had accomplished an overall positive sign for both of their organizations, it scarcely served as a game-changing development. Both groups were already undertaking similar behavior to HTS (even before HTS in some cases), and neither envisioned any of the same incentives of breaking ties with al-Qaeda that HTS gained. Instead they were able to see HTS’s success in Syria as a proof of concept, but one that simultaneously mimicked their existing approaches and presented particularities that they could not replicate or did not want to. These are discussed below.
Why No Relevance for the Islamic State?
Having shown the differences between the ways that al-Qaeda’s African branches approached the HTS question, it bears reverting to the non-evidence for the HTS’s impact on African Islamic State branches. Why would al-Qaeda affiliates find at least some relevance, whereas Islamic State provinces would find none?
On the one hand, the al-Qaeda groups are more ideologically sympathetic to the HTS model because of their historical moderation in violence against civilians, their proclivity for the implementation of governance, and their willingness to work with non-jihadi actors. Conversely, Islamic State groups, who take a more draconian, maximalist view of jihad, reject the HTS model as overly accommodating in working with apostate governments and have been notable for their often-unrestrained use of violence. Thus, in many respects, al-Qaeda’s more “moderate” (if such a term can be used) approach to jihad in Africa better aligns with HTS’s more state-like approach than the more “hardline” and unrestrained pursuit of jihad by the Islamic State.
Second, at least in Africa, al-Qaeda groups also have different strategic imperatives to find value in the HTS model: JNIM and al-Shabaab are far more powerful than any other Islamic State group on the continent and so could theoretically envision the capture of a national government, thus making the HTS model attractive. No Islamic State group exerts similar strength. Islamic State groups also tend to be limited to remote enclaves from far national capitals, such as the mountains of Puntland in the case of the Islamic State in Somalia, the eastern Democratic Republic of the Congo in the case of the Islamic State’s Central Africa Province (ISCAP), northern Mozambique (Islamic State in Mozambique), and the intersection of four countries in the Lake Chad Basin—none of which it could likely overtake—in the case of the Islamic State West Africa Province (ISWAP). The HTS model is thus of scarce interest to most African Islamic State groups.
Conclusion: Explaining the Underwhelming Response
The previous section showed that none of the most prominent African jihadist groups have been particularly taken with the HTS model, either in word or in deed. Why, despite observers’ predictions of such inspiration, has it not materialized to the degree that might have been expected? Below, this piece argues that at least four rationales undergird the lack of enthusiasm.
HTS’s Playbook Was Not New
First, and most broadly, the playbook that HTS arguably offered is nothing new, especially for African groups aligned with al-Qaeda. As shown above, both JNIM and al-Shabaab have been undertaking civilian-centric, legitimacy-garnering activities for years. Indeed, one might even think of HTS and JNIM/al-Shabaab as all having co-influenced one another over time, and the Taliban (discussed in more detail below) as having influenced all of them. Thus, while HTS may have had the most visible example of “success,” it was not novel in its approach to building civil society’s trust through moderation. In many senses, then, African al-Qaeda groups were undertaking “HTS-like” behavior even before HTS. Importantly, observers should not be too eager to attribute any visible “HTS-like behavior” among African jihadist groups to HTS success.
HTS’s Playbook Was Not Desirable
Second, especially for Islamic State–aligned groups, HTS’s model does not necessarily represent a desirable outcome. On the one hand, for African jihadist groups, the ways that HTS “won” may appear to have come at too high a cost; they may be overly accommodating. Did HTS abandon too much of the essence of the transnational jihad to get what it wanted? Was breaking with al-Qaeda, integrating itself into the global system of states, accepting broad tolerance of religious minorities, and building relations with Israel59 really considered a win for jihadists? Whatever the answer, few analysts suggest there is a high likelihood that even more moderate al-Qaeda branches are as open to accommodation as they would need to be to pursue an HTS model. As Caleb Weiss has usefully articulated,
One must assume a lot to believe that the leadership of either JNIM or AS [al-Shabaab] . . . want to reject and ultimately abandon AQ; adopt and integrate into the international system; and also seek a desire for some form of democratic or inclusive society if they truly want to go the HTS route. . . . Neither JNIM nor AS has indicated that either is willing to do so. In fact, both have been quite adamant over the years that they reject the international system and democracy is a kuffar ideology. Yes, because they are AQ [al-Qaeda], they can work with non-jihadi, nationalist, or even sometimes non-Islamic entities to advance their agendas, but . . . this is not the same as ultimately wanting a government system in the way that HTS is moving in Syria.60
Second, more than merely not wanting to accommodate as much as HTS has, groups may not want to govern to the extent that HTS’s takeover now forces it to; managing an entire conflict-ridden state is not necessarily a win. While on paper jihadist groups seek, at their core, to control the states in which they exist, and some think that whether or not they actually would—or, could—as Wassim Nassr points out,61 is a different story. A scenario exists wherein jihadist capture of a national capital is akin to the dog finally catching the car: they would not know what to do when they achieved their goal. In the same way that Islamic State experiences in Iraq, Syria, and Libya showed the downsides of jihadist governance between 2014 and 2016, it is hard to imagine any of the aforementioned groups successfully capturing and governing Mali, Burkina Faso, or Somalia.
HTS’s Playbook Was Not Replicable
Third, this piece has shown that at least one part of HTS’s playbook was simply not replicable for African jihadist groups: its reliance, to some degree, on a nearby regional state. As described above, one of HTS’s primary strategies involved a degree of reliance on Turkey. No African jihadist group could imagine a similar regional state sponsor or ally that would mimic the nature of the protection that HTS received from Turkey. Unsurprisingly, the inability to replicate that important plan inherently dampened would-be enthusiasm.
HTS’s Playbook Was Not Necessary
Fourth, to the extent that any of the four African jihadist groups might find resonance in any external “model,” their real model would come from the Taliban’s takeover of Afghanistan in 2021, not from HTS’s takeover of Syria in 2024. At the core, the Taliban serves as a better model than HTS, not least because it has captured the state far more fully than HTS and has done so in a way that has thus far been more comprehensive,62 not mentioning the fact that al-Qaeda affiliates have had a long-standing alliance with the Taliban. For instance, Daniele Garofolo, a noted monitor of jihadist propaganda, has pointed to the distinct differences and lack of enthusiasm that African jihadist groups showed to HTS as opposed to the Taliban.63 And Idris Lalalli offers a similar assessment, centering the importance of the Taliban, not HTS, in African jihadists’ strategic calculations. To that end, he notes that “groups like JNIM are visibly experimenting with ‘Taliban-style’ local engagement: co-opting traditional authorities, regulating justice, and positioning themselves as arbiters between state and community in areas of contested governance.”64 Others have noted al-Shabaab’s desire to pursue negotiations as aligning closer to the Taliban’s more hardline, non-accommodationist playbook, not HTS’s.65
Moreover, one must interrogate the very idea that African jihadists need or want an outside model to follow at all. Here, Christopher Anzalone makes an important intervention: While HTS and the Taliban have achieved gains, it remains reductive—even to African terrorist groups—to claim that certain African groups need to follow some external model. Indeed, AQIM/JNIM and al-Shabaab have long been pursuing their approaches to jihad, arguably serving as models to HTS, and thus the extent to which they need exemplars is questionable.66
Finally, perhaps the clearest plank underscoring that HTS’s playbook was not needed was the group’s decision to break from al-Qaeda. But one might ask, even if none of the African jihadists seem poised to break with al-Qaeda or the Islamic State today, is such a break even imperative to replicate HTS’s success? The answer is seemingly no. On the one hand, HTS’s struggle to gain legitimacy in Syria even after a full break with al-Qaeda underscores that even such abandonment is perhaps insufficient to achieve international legitimacy. On the other hand, the Taliban’s experience highlights a different model. Indeed, a group that was once on the UN Monitoring Team’s sanctions list is now off of it because it is a national government, even though it has not fully renounced its jihadist principles. The Taliban’s “success” did not require abandoning its ethos but doubling down on it. What would prevent JNIM from doing the same? Moreover, at the current moment, when both al-Shabaab and JNIM are more powerful than whatever the al-Qaeda “core” currently is, their parent group does not constrain them, and they would likely prefer not to see their brand damaged as a result of their departure.
And thus this final point bears reiterating: though JNIM and al-Shabaab are following or continuing the HTS model, they are unlikely to undertake its most significant action: a full break from al-Qaeda. Indeed, they would logically hedge their bets, retaining the global affiliation with al-Qaeda but working toward a takeover with a Taliban-like global acceptance.
In sum, the degree of enthusiasm among African jihadist groups regarding the HTS takeover in Syria has been paltry at best. None of the four major groups has made any public announcements congratulating HTS, nor has any group appreciably changed its behavior to show actions that look more like HTS’s. Indeed, many African groups, especially those aligned with al-Qaeda, were already undertaking HTS-like actions even before HTS itself, leading observers to ask, At the end of the day, who inspired whom?
Editor’s note: This piece solely reflects the views of the author and in no way expresses the opinions of the U.S. Government, Department of War or any associated entities.