Introduction: a narrative of reclaimed destiny
Since Captain Ibrahim Traoré assumed power, an official narrative has taken hold: that Burkina Faso has regained control of its destiny, diminished its external dependence, and opted to self-finance its war against armed groups.
This message is politically effective. Rearmament is presented as the tangible expression of sovereignty. Military acquisitions are highlighted, the Patriotic Support Fund is portrayed as a national effort, and calls for citizen contributions serve to demonstrate that the country relies primarily on its own resources.
Yet a far less ideological question persists: what is the real cost of this sovereignty, and who bears the burden?
The surge in defence spending
Budgetary figures already reveal a change of scale. Defence and security spending, which stood at around 95 billion CFA francs in 2016, has climbed to several hundred billion CFA francs, exceeding 800 billion in 2024 according to the budgetary perimeters used.
This evolution is considerable. It reflects a clear political priority: in a country facing a major security crisis, the state now devotes a much larger share of its resources to the army, security forces, equipment, and the war effort.
But such a dramatic increase cannot be viewed solely through a military lens. Every additional billion allocated to security is also a billion that must be found elsewhere.
And it is precisely at this level that the discourse on sovereignty merits scrutiny against financial mechanisms.
The Patriotic Fund does not cover everything
The Patriotic Support Fund is one of the main symbols of this strategy. Contributions have reached significant amounts since its creation: nearly 99 billion CFA francs in its first year, approximately 175 billion in 2024, and more than 200 billion according to figures reported for 2025.
It would therefore be unfair to deny the scale of the national mobilisation. But another illusion must be avoided: the Patriotic Fund alone does not represent the entirety of war financing.
The state budget remains the primary funding structure for public policies. Military expenditure is therefore also supported by tax revenues, ordinary state resources, and, when revenues fall short, by recourse to borrowing.
In other words, voluntarily contributing to the war effort does not mean the war is financed without debt.
Debt takes on a new face
This is where the debate becomes more interesting. Burkina Faso’s public debt has risen sharply since 2021. It now exceeds 8,000 billion CFA francs according to available data and projections for recent years.
A significant portion of this debt is now raised on the WAEMU regional market, notably through the issuance of public securities. This allows Burkina Faso to diversify its funding sources and reduce certain dependencies on external creditors.
But debt contracted on the regional market remains debt. Whether held by a bank, an institutional investor, or another financial actor in the region does not change its economic nature: the state borrows today and must repay tomorrow, with interest.
This is where the communication on sovereignty reaches its limits. One can perfectly defend the choice to prioritise domestic financing. One can also consider that borrowing from the regional market is preferable to certain forms of external dependence. But presenting this mechanism as the disappearance of financial dependence would be misleading.
The real question: where does public money go?
The issue is not whether Burkina Faso has the right to rearm. Obviously it does. The issue is determining the cost of this rearmament for public finances as a whole.
When a growing share of resources is directed towards security, the government must arbitrate between several priorities: defence, education, health, infrastructure, agriculture, social protection, and debt repayment. These trade-offs are rarely visible in political discourse. Yet they constitute the true test of economic sovereignty.
A state can buy more weapons while remaining financially vulnerable. It can reduce certain foreign military cooperations while increasing its reliance on borrowing. It can mobilise patriotic contributions while devoting a growing share of future revenues to debt repayment.
Diplomatic rupture therefore does not automatically mean financial rupture.
The mechanical effect of debt
There is also a less spectacular but far more lasting risk: that of debt servicing. Every loan contracted today creates an obligation for years to come. When interest rates are high and investment needs remain significant, the government must allocate more resources to meeting repayments.
It is a simple mechanism: the more the state borrows, the more it must set aside tomorrow a portion of its revenues to pay its creditors. The problem is not necessarily indebtedness itself. All modern states borrow.
The question is rather whether spending financed by debt generates sufficient economic and social benefits to enable the country to bear the future burden. For military spending, the equation is even more delicate: military equipment may be indispensable for national security, but it does not necessarily generate revenues to repay the loan that financed it.
Military sovereignty, economic dependence?
This is the contradiction that the Burkinabè model reveals. The authorities claim strategic autonomy: new partners, diversified alliances, national mobilisation, and reduced traditional cooperations.
But simultaneously, the economy continues to function with the classic instruments of public financing: taxation, domestic debt, the regional market, multilateral creditors, and economic cooperation.
This is not an exceptional contradiction. It is the normal functioning of a state facing limited resources and considerable security needs. The difficulty begins when political communication transforms this financial reality into a narrative of absolute self-sufficiency.
Beware of spectacular figures
It is also necessary to set the record straight on certain claims circulating on social media. Speaking of military debt of “hundreds of billions of dollars” is incompatible with the order of magnitude of Burkina Faso’s economy.
The country’s GDP is in the range of a few tens of billions of dollars, not hundreds of billions. A military debt of several hundred billion dollars would far exceed the country’s economic capacity.
Reality is already significant enough that it need not be exaggerated. It is hundreds of billions of CFA francs that are at stake, not hundreds of billions of dollars. This distinction is essential for serious analysis.
The true paradox of “sovereignty on credit”
Burkina Faso can therefore perfectly claim political and military sovereignty while remaining an indebted state. But this reality forces a more demanding question: how far can war financing go without weakening the other functions of the state?
Sovereignty is not measured solely by the number of armoured vehicles, drones, or weapons acquired. It is also measured by the ability to pay civil servants, invest in education and health, finance infrastructure, support the productive economy, and above all repay loans contracted in the name of the community.
The real issue is therefore not to deny the efforts made by the Burkinabè authorities. It is to look behind the narrative. Who pays? How much? With what resources? And for how long?
If a significant part of the rearmament relies on public revenues, national contributions, and debt, then the proclaimed sovereignty is not a sovereignty without cost. It is a sovereignty financed by taxpayers, savers, financial markets, and future generations.
And it is precisely for this reason that the expression “sovereignty on credit” deserves to be posed as a question, rather than a slogan. For political independence can be proclaimed in a few speeches. Financial independence, however, is verified in the accounts.
