The question of Sudan now follows me. People ask not only out of concern for a nation in flames but from a profound bewilderment: how did a country unravel with such ferocious speed? The conflict, now in its third year, defies easy comprehension. For those watching from afar, war can seem a distant political event. For those living it, it is a daily, grinding reality—a bewildering collapse that was never anyone’s destiny.
To understand this war, one must look at two timelines. The long view reveals a nation where power and wealth have perpetually been concentrated in the hands of a select few. Regions like Darfur have endured decades of systemic marginalization, resource competition, and ethnic strife. In the early 2000s, state-backed Arab militias unleashed a campaign of violence against non-Arab communities there. While Sudan never fully fractured, these localized conflicts festered, allowing paramilitary forces to grow in strength and influence. The most potent legacy of this era is the Rapid Support Forces (RSF), a formalized militia born from those armed groups.
The shorter history begins with the 2019 popular revolution that toppled longtime ruler Omar al-Bashir. The uprising had twin aims: removing the dictator and ending the military’s entrenched grip on power. In the fragile aftermath, it became clear the RSF—once Bashir’s instrument of repression in Darfur—had accumulated formidable might. A promised transitional power-sharing arrangement between the RSF, the regular Sudanese Armed Forces (SAF), and civilian leaders proved ephemeral. The two armed entities soon turned on the civilians, and then on each other. The central truth emerged: Sudan was not large enough for two rival armies.
Beyond Simple Labels
This conflict is frequently termed a “civil war,” yet civilians are its primary victims, not its instigators. Their shattered lives are the currency in a struggle between two armed factions. It is also called a “forgotten war,” a description that obscures a more uncomfortable truth: the war is not forgotten but often deliberately overlooked. International humanitarian responses remain critically underfunded, and global diplomatic engagement has been tepid.
The framing of a “proxy war” suggests balanced foreign meddling. The dominant external influence, however, is clear. The United Arab Emirates has funneled substantial funds and weaponry to the RSF, despite official denials. For the UAE, gaining a foothold in Sudan—a strategically positioned nation rich in gold and agricultural land—represents a significant expansion of its regional clout.
At its core, this is an existential clash. On one side stands the old guard: the national army and the entrenched political and economic interests it represents. On the other is a powerful militia that built its strength outside the state’s formal structures and now seeks to seize control of them.
The Unfathomable Human Toll
Statistics fail to capture the scale of the loss. Millions are displaced, hundreds of thousands are feared dead, and famine looms. The violence is both brutally personal and systematically horrific. Homes are not just looted but gutted, their very infrastructure ripped from the walls. A generation of elderly now faces its final years in destitute exile.
In Darfur, the RSF is accused of carrying out systematic massacres against African communities, reopening the wounds of past atrocities. The recent fall of El Fasher, the SAF’s last major stronghold in the region, after a prolonged siege, has cemented the RSF’s control over western Sudan. The nation is now effectively split in two, with reports of summary executions painting a grim picture of the new reality. A bloody stalemate appears likely, with neither side possessing the strength for a decisive victory and foreign powers showing little will to enforce a peace.
War distorts time, making it hard to envision a future different from the traumatic present. There is a lingering, irrational hope for a reversal, a moment when the pieces can be gathered and the country mended. The rational mind knows this is a fantasy. For now, the only hope is that such suffering cannot be infinite, and that growing global awareness will transform Sudan’s tragedy from a passing headline into a crisis that demands an urgent and resolute response.