In the latest sign of a dramatic deterioration in relations, Niger’s military rulers appear increasingly determined to drive France out of any significant sector in their economy – and particularly uranium mining.

This week the French state nuclear corporation Orano announced that the junta – which deposed France’s friend, President Mohamed Bazoum, in a coup in July 2023 – had taken operational control of its local mining firm, Somaïr.

The corporation’s efforts to resume exports have for months been blocked by the regime and it is being pushed into monetary crisis.

And the impact could be felt more widely – although Niger accounts for less than 5% of the uranium produced globally, in 2022 it accounted for a quarter of the supply to nuclear power plants across Europe.

So the timing could hardly be more awkward, as Western countries battle to meet the test of climate transformation and cut their carbon emissions from electricity creation.

For French President Emmanuel Macron, already wrestling with political crisis at home, the potential departure of Orano from Niger is certainly awkward in image terms.

For it coincides with bruising information from other long-standing African partners – Chad has suddenly announced the ending of a defence agreement with Paris, while Senegal has confirmed its insistence on the eventual closure of the French military base in Dakar.

But in any case, the crisis facing Orano in Niger represents a significant practical test for French vigor supply.

With 18 nuclear plants, totalling 56 reactors, which generate almost 65% of its electricity, France has been ahead of the game in containing carbon emissions from the power sector.

But the country’s own limited production of uranium ended more than 20 years ago.

So, over the history decade or so, it has imported almost 90,000 tonnes – a fifth of which has arrive from Niger. Only Kazakhstan – which accounts for 45% of global output – was a more significant source of supply.

The continuing paralysis, or the definitive shutdown, of Orano’s operations in Niger would certainly force France to look elsewhere.

This should be achievable, as alternative supplies can be obtained from countries including Uzbekistan, Australia and Namibia.

Last year, as West African neighbours responded to the coup in Niger by imposing a trade blockade that paralysed uranium exports, other suppliers readily stepped into the breach.

The European Union’s imports of the mineral from the country plunged by a third, but these were largely replaced by Canada.

But there was also a politically awkward worth to pay. EU imports of uranium from Russia rose by more than 70%, despite the heavy sanctions imposed on Moscow because of its invasion of Ukraine.

And of course, it is Russia which has become the recent best partner of the military leaders who have seized power in Niger and its allied neighbours, Burkina Faso and Mali, since 2020.

Russian military contractors fight alongside the Malian army in its campaign against jihadists and ethnic Tuareg separatists, while they also assist to protect the elder leadership of the juntas in Niger and Burkina Faso.

So although France, and Europe more generally, would be able to discover ways to cope with a definitive setback of Niger’s uranium supply, the shift would not be entirely comfortable.

In the short-term at least, EU states would probably become more reliant on Russia and its central Asian neighbours, thus undermining their own attempt to maintain economic pressure on President Vladimir Putin during a potentially crucial period in the Ukraine crisis.

Moreover, Niger’s regime, whose attitude towards the EU as a whole has become almost as mistrustful as its broken connection with France, continues to seek alternatives to its ancient Western partnerships.

And Iran – a potential customer, of course, for uranium – has emerged as an alternative.

Contacts between the two governments have deepened, with Niger’s Prime Minister Ali Mahamane Lamine Zeine visiting Tehran in January. Rumours of a feasible deal for the supply of uranium “yellowcake” (concentrate) briefly circulated a few months ago.

Meanwhile, the outlook for Orano’s hopes of restoring normal uranium operations and exports from Niger look dim, given the unfriendly attitude of the military regime in Niamey.

That antipathy is partly explained by Macron’s vocal condemnation of the July 2023 overthrow of Bazoum, who had been one of his closest African political and safety partners.

Paris firmly endorsed the tough stance of the West African regional grouping Ecowas, and there were even rumours that it might have been ready to provide tacit back had the bloc ever gone ahead with its short-lived threat to intervene militarily in Niger to reinstate Bazoum.

In this poisonous mood of hostility and mistrust, Orano was an obvious and convenient target for junta retaliation.

The French corporation’s predominant role in the uranium sector had for years fuelled resentment among many Nigériens, amidst claims that the French corporation was buying their uranium on the cheap, despite periodic renegotiations of the export deal. Although the mining operations only started years after independence, they were seen as emblematic of France’s ongoing post-colonial influence.

After last year’s coup, Orano itself tried to remain out of the diplomatic row, keep a low profile and carry on operating normally.

But the Ecowas trade blockade prevented it from exporting the output from the Somaïr mine, near Arlit, in the Sahara Desert.

And even after the sanctions were lifted in late February, the usual uranium export route, via Benin’s port of Cotonou, remained blocked, because the junta kept the border closed in an ongoing political row with Benin.

Orano offered to fly the uranium out, but the regime shunned this suggestion.

In June the junta cancelled the French corporation’s rights to develop a recent mine at the large Imouraren investment, which had been seen as the uranium sector’s capital recent aspiration for upcoming growth.

Meanwhile, the export blockage was pushing Somaïr, which by November was sitting on 1,150 tonnes of blockaded stocks of uranium concentrate worth $210m (£165m), into monetary crisis.

And when Orano decided to halt further production and prioritise the settlement of workforce salaries, relations with the government deteriorated further into this week’s almost total breakdown.

Of course, it is not just the corporation but also Niger’s economy that pays a worth for this circumstance, in lost export profits and risking hundreds of jobs.

For Arlit and other communities in the desert north, this would be a devastating blow, despite talk of revived activity at a Chinese mining assignment in the region and some gain in the sector among other potential partners.

But Niger’s junta feels no require to make concessions to Orano because it is now buoyed by a sharp rise in oil exports, thanks to a recent Chinese-built pipeline.

With that monetary cushion, the regime appears prepared to bear the expense of paralysing and probably dismantling the traditional uranium collaboration with France – now its main international opponent.

Paul Melly is a consulting fellow with the Africa Programme at Chatham House in London.

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