Sudan Defense Force

By Wathiq Kameir

I would like to revisit a short article I published in November 2022, six months before the outbreak of the current war, under the title “When Lines Blur: A Retired Military Movement.”

What brought that old article back to mind was hearing political leader Mohamed Sayed Ahmed “Jakoumi” announce the formation of an armed organization numbering tens of thousands, which he named the Sudan Defense Force, in coordination with the Sudan Shield group led by Abu Aqla Kikil. Ironically, Jakoumi stated that he deliberately chose the historic name once associated with the founding of the Sudanese Armed Forces.

Neither the government, the Sovereignty Council, nor the military has issued any statement on this matter—as if the declaration of new militias has become so commonplace it raises neither concern nor alarm. At the very least, however, retired Brigadier Al-Sawarmi Khalid was arrested (even if only for a week) just hours after announcing, on November 13, 2022, the formation of an armed force made up of army retirees.

Politicians seeking power by aligning themselves with the army under the pretext of “supporting the armed forces,” or through political alliances with the Rapid Support Forces, only deepen the crisis of war and threaten the cohesion of state institutions.

It seems that lines are blurring even further, and chaos is spreading unchecked.

When Lines Blur: A Retired Military Movement

Since the signing of the Juba Peace Agreement in October 2020, and despite its wide support locally, regionally, and internationally, the deal failed to gain acceptance among some Sudanese political and social forces. Once the armed movements that signed it were accused of backing the coup that dissolved the civilian-military partnership on October 25, 2021, opposition to the agreement intensified, with calls for its cancellation or revision growing louder.

For critics, the agreement was nothing more than a reward for anyone who took up arms—a grant from those who did not own to those who did not deserve. Their objections rested on two arguments: first, that the signatory armed groups lacked genuine grassroots representation in Darfur; and second, that the East, North, and Central regions of Sudan were sidelined, included only as token gestures to absorb civilians aligned with those movements, particularly through the invention of the “Northern” and “Central” tracks.

Feeling excluded and marginalized, leaders of those two tracks—Altoum Hajo (Central) and Mohamed Sayed Ahmed “Jakoumi” (Northern)—became increasingly active on media and online platforms. They advanced two key defenses: first, although they had not taken up arms, both had been among the founders of the Sudan Revolutionary Front when it was established in 2012; and second, their leadership of the two tracks was not about power-sharing but about securing developmental and economic gains for their regions. Most importantly, they argued they never claimed a monopoly over representing the North and Central Sudan—only that they had initiated the process to win recognition of their people’s rights to equality and fair treatment alongside other regions.

Almost simultaneously—and seemingly in reaction to this heated debate—a group of retired army officers announced the creation of a politico-military organization called “Wataniyyah Forces” (Homeland Bloc Forces), demanding the cancellation of the Juba Agreement. In a statement issued on November 14, the group declared its aim was to “balance the Darfuri dominance,” noting that the number of armed movements there had become impossible to count. The statement also claimed that the new bloc represented the “silent majority” in North, Central, and Eastern Sudan.

The Homeland Bloc soon unveiled its own special force, the “Central Protection Force,” intended to provide military leverage for those three regions. According to Brigadier (ret.) Al-Sawarmi Khalid Saad, this was a way for communities in the North, Central, and East—long without armed factions of their own—to secure political power and senior state positions, just as Darfuri movements had. In effect, his message to the leaders of the Northern and Central tracks was: “Unlike you, we have troops to win our people’s share of power and wealth—something you failed to achieve through the Juba Peace Agreement, simply because you had no weapons or fighters.”

In a bizarre twist of Sudanese politics, we suddenly witnessed a press conference by a “military movement led by retired officers.” Was this an orchestrated plan with support from elements within the army, potentially carrying serious implications for Sudan’s future? (Especially since the Homeland Bloc leaders claimed to have troops stationed across the country.) Or was it merely another hybrid political-military project—a “retirees’ movement”—angling for a slice of power alongside the demands of the Northern and Central track leaders?

In either case, the President of the Sovereignty Council and all relevant state institutions remain responsible for clarifying the true nature of this troubling bloc through a direct address to the Sudanese people. Otherwise, perhaps the lines really have blurred beyond recognition.