Blog Post, Conflict Sensitivity Facility, 30 July 2024
Sudan’s recent history has been marred by wars and military coups. Since the lowering of the British flag and the creation of independence in 1956, there have only been eleven years without war and thirteen without a military government. Nonetheless, the war between the Sudanese Armed Forces (SAF) and the Rapid Support Forces (RSF) that broke out on 15 April 2023 is different from the past. In contrast to previous wars, it started in Sudan’s centre Khartoum, not the periphery, and within the security sector, not between government and rebel forces. One might say that the ways in which successive Sudanese governments have fought wars in the periphery have reached the centre, with the RSF claiming to fight on behalf of the down-trodden against their exploitation by the elites of Sudan’s post-independence state and the RSF using similar methods of looting, raping and killing in the centre that have previously been largely reserved to the periphery.
While the war has deep roots in Sudan’s militarised history, it also reflects important shifts in Sudanese politics in recent years. These shifts mean that the previous transactional pattern of conflict management no longer works. Understanding these dynamics is crucial for aid actors to avoid feeding into the conflict.
Dominance of the security sector
In one sense, the war is the culmination of a highly militarised political settlement. Since colonial times, central governments in Sudan have exploited the peripheries for their resources. As some people from those marginalised peripheries joined armed groups, the government delegated counter-insurgency to militias and government-aligned armed groups outside the formal security sector (already in the late 1980s). The RSF emerged from Darfuri militias in 2013, and grew to become the strongest infantry in the country. The RSF leadership became rich by loaning their services not just to the government but to the Saudi-Emirati coalition in Yemen and by using their forces to protect their own business interests.
In the centre, governments remained highly vulnerable to coup plotters that were dissatisfied with the distribution of rents and power resulting from the exploitation of the periphery. Sudan has been the most coup-prone country in Africa. In 1964, 1985 and 2019, military coup-leaders sided with civilian uprisings to establish civilian governments. In 1958, 1969 and 1989, military coup leaders allied with a political party to interrupt democratic governance, using them as civilian façade.
Civilian politics has been warped by the authoritarian context. Mainstream political parties such as the National Umma Party and the Democratic Unionist Party at several points cooperated with the government of President Bashir. Given their experience with infiltration, betrayal and co-option, many civilian policymakers espouse a zero-sum mentality, which made trusted cooperation among the parties difficult.
In sum, the legacy of Sudan’s militarised political settlement meant that any civilian transition process was going to be fragile. Political parties would fight for their own visibility rather than focus on the establishment of institutions. It also meant that the threat of a renewed coup would be ever present, especially since the transitional government aimed to dismantle the dominance of the security sector in politics and in the economy.
Power shifts
In the past five years, there have been two major shifts in Sudan’s political order. Starting with the December 2018 revolution, Sudanese civil forces proved that they could sustain protests and grassroots opposition despite violent repression. As a result, both military and political elites faced obstacles to continuing exclusive deals. It is worth remembering that the military failed in its attempt to retain the monopoly of power after removing President Bashir. A few weeks after violently dispersing the sit-in in front of the military Headquarters in central Khartoum, protestors came out in droves in the “millions march”. When the military seized power yet again in October 2021, they tried to resort to old-style co-option tactics with an agreement between Abdel Fattah al-Burhan, the head of the military, and Abdalla Hamdok, the prime minister who was under house arrest at that time. Yet political parties ultimately rejected the agreement of 21 November 2021, faced with mass protests and strikes organised by resistance committees. The military’s efforts to create a civilian façade failed also in the following weeks.
The second shift has been the rise of the RSF as a parallel army, major economic network and political actor. With the ousting of Bashir, Hemedti became deputy chair of the transitional military council and retained that position in the Sovereign Council that was created with the formation of the civil-military transitional government in August 2019. During the transition process, the RSF grew significantly in size and influence to rival the SAF. Initially, Burhan was a willing accomplice in this as were mainstream political parties, both trying to use the rise of the RSF to guard against the resurgence of loyalists of the defunct National Congress Party (NCP), Bashir’s party. Hemedti became a major interlocutor for the armed groups that negotiated the Juba peace agreement with the new government. He also conducted his own foreign policy in the region, notably in Ethiopia, South Sudan and the UAE. At the same time, with its origin as a tribal militia-turned into paramilitary force, the RSF did not fit well with the political and security class from riverain Sudan that dominates Khartoum politics.
From coup to war risk
As a consequence, the division in the security sector was the greatest threat to the transition since its start, as I show in my recent study on power relations since the fall of Bashir. Many observers had expected a military coup when it happened in October 2021, but the security forces did not sufficiently prepare for the changed political environment. With no credible civilian partner willing to join them, RSF and SAF had to manage ruling the country on their own. Their mutual suspicions and mistrust only increased though when both reached out to different sections of the civilian sector. The SAF brought back loyalists of the NCP into public service, while Hemedti tried to present himself as an ally of the democracy movement and began openly saying that the coup had failed. Both prepared for an armed confrontation.
When the conflict escalated on 15 April 2023, either side failed to quickly seize power. The RSF had brought in massive troops in the weeks leading up to the war, but the SAF had the advantage of an air force, more heavy weapons, and heavily fortified garrisons (the RSF still have not managed to take the military HQ in Khartoum). The RSF dispersed, looting and occupying civilian residences as war booty and to protect themselves against air strikes. The highly mobile and adaptive RSF forces were able to capture significant parts of Sudan’s territory, as SAF remained focused on defending fixed positions and withdrew when they felt they could no longer hold their position.
Three implications for the aid response
Aid actors need to navigate the shifting power relations in Sudan carefully. The integrity and stability of the Sudanese state is severely challenged. As things stand, it is unlikely that the country will soon see a return of any of the power-sharing models among the SAF and the RSF or between civilians (technocrats or political parties) and the security forces of the past five years. Plausible scenarios include a formally civilian government with strong interference from the security forces and NCP loyalists in the background or a de facto split of the governance of the country according to the effective control of the warring parties with different configurations in each territory.
More specifically, aid actors should draw three broad lessons from the shift in power relations. One, they need to consider the sustained civilian mobilisation, including by further pursuing the localisation of aid and working more with community efforts such as emergency response rooms and communal kitchens, where they are available. In mid-July, the emergency room in Khartoum’s South Belt announced the closure of 25 community kitchens because of lack of funds, for example. Supporting these community-led service providers not only helps mitigate the famine but can also strengthen social cohesion and gender equality. At the same time, outside actors should avoid creating too high expectations for these local civilian actors. In particular, they should look out for the most vulnerable sections of society which may fall through the cracks if engagement happens more within smaller circles of well-established groups.
Two, aid organisations and humanitarian policy-makers should explore more ways for cross-border and cross-line deliveries in RSF-held and non-aligned territories (such as Jebel Marra and the Nuba mountains). The authorities in Port Sudan currently hold sway over visa, travel permits and access procedures even in areas that they do not control; which is all the more problematic as many of the greatest humanitarian needs are in RSF-held territories, including most of the hotspots identified as at risk of famine.While there is no unfettered right for humanitarian access across borders, conflict parties violate International Humanitarian Law when their refusal “results in starvation of civilians”. Member states can support aid organisations in more robust negotiations with the SAF-controlled authorities and by making clear that those authorities lack legitimacy to represent Sudan. In some cases, cash programming may enable private sector actors to scale up activities in areas that are hard for international actors to reach.
Third, aid actors should prepare for further shifts in Sudan’s power relations. The longer the war goes on, the more the main conflict parties will fragment and the more people are likely to join armed factions to protect themselves and to ensure an income for their families. Already, three quarters of the fighting force on the army side are volunteers, according to Burhan. Relations between the popular resistance forces (quickly mobilised and trained volunteer forces responding to Burhan‘s June 2023 call to arms), Islamist brigades, formal military and associated armed groups such as the Sudan Liberation Army-Minni Minnawi could weaken. In practical terms, the relative efficiency of top-down decisions in SAF-controlled territories that aid organisations have experienced so far may come to resemble more the fractious relations between different armed units already known in RSF-controlled areas. As a result, more access expertise for local-level negotiations may become necessary.
In the end, all outside actors, humanitarian, peace and diplomatic ones alike, should avoid undue deference to the priorities of military actors. Instead, they should hold themselves accountable to the Sudanese civilian population as much as possible.
Dr. Gerrit Kurtz 