El-Fasher: The War of the Region and the Boundaries of National Consciousness

By Ibrahim Shaqlawi

The battle of El-Fasher appears to mark a defining moment in the trajectory of the Sudanese war — an event that has exposed the true face of the conflict and redefined the nature and scope of the war itself. This time, the confrontation was not merely between an army and a militia, but between a nation defending its sovereignty and a regional system seeking to reshape the political geography of the region in accordance with its own interests and agendas.

The manner in which the battle was conducted — through the neutralization of communication systems and the precise severing of links between the army’s field units and its command centers — clearly indicates that what took place in El-Fasher was the result of intelligence planning supported by advanced technology from a third party possessing electronic warfare capabilities and detailed knowledge of Sudan’s military infrastructure.

This development places the Sudanese conflict in an entirely new context. It is no longer an internal struggle triggered by the militia’s coup on April 15, 2023, but rather an open regional confrontation — a testing ground for the ambitions and power plays of various states.

The same forces that waged wars in Libya and Yemen — with their financial, media, and military arms — have now returned to Sudan, reproducing the same formula: a state weakened from within, while external actors redraw its borders and balances of power to secure their interests and establish a foothold in the heart of Africa, along the Red Sea, and across the Horn of Africa.

Yet Sudan differs from those experiences in one crucial respect: it has not lost the cohesion of its national institutions. The army remains present, anchored in popular support and professional discipline, distinguishing it from the Libyan model, where the state collapsed, or the Yemeni model, where national decision-making was eroded.

However, this cohesion will remain at risk unless the current transformations are understood through political and diplomatic lenses — not merely military ones — and unless national awareness is translated into a solid, creative strategy capable of anticipating threats and managing the scene with composure rather than impulse.

Today’s war extends beyond rifles and artillery into the realms of control, information, and decision-making. The battle of El-Fasher — which saw over 270 consecutive assaults on the city — became a real test of the Sudanese army’s resilience in the face of unconventional warfare: from media manipulation to cyber infiltration, and from diplomatic isolation to economic blockade.

These are the same tools that regional actors have used in previous conflicts to re-engineer power dynamics in Libya, Syria, and Yemen — financing militias and exploiting humanitarian rhetoric as cover for vast geopolitical projects that robbed those nations of their security and stability.

What the United Arab Emirates is doing in Sudan today follows a familiar pattern. Just as it funded armed proxies in Libya under the banner of “counterterrorism,” and supported factions in Yemen to divide spheres of influence under the pretext of “fighting the Houthis,” it now backs and finances the Rapid Support Forces in Sudan — seeking to impose a new reality that secures control over gold, oil, livestock, and water resources, while guaranteeing strategic access to the Red Sea.

It is thus evident that the war in Sudan is no longer between an army and a militia, but between competing regional projects: one aiming to keep Sudan fragile and open to political and security manipulation, and another striving to restore a free, sovereign state capable of independent decision-making.

The danger lies in the fact that these projects are being pursued under a veil of international silence, with a global system that should deter such violations now complicit through the entanglement of interests and the geopolitics of ports and maritime corridors.

The so-called “mediation” and “humanitarian” initiatives are, in reality, a replication of the Libyan model — this time on a broader, more complex geography that is far more resilient and experienced in resistance. Confronting this challenge requires Sudan to make carefully calculated choices.

The recent visit of a high-level Egyptian military delegation to Port Sudan, headed by Chief of Staff Lt. Gen. Ahmed Fathi, coinciding with the fall of El-Fasher, cannot be separated from the framework of joint defensive coordination between the two countries.

Cairo, fully aware that its national security begins at Sudan’s southern borders, views Sudan’s potential collapse into militia chaos as a direct threat to its strategic depth. Hence, the activation of the joint defense agreement between the two nations is now a serious geopolitical necessity for safeguarding their shared national security.

At the same time, Turkey presents another strategic option for Khartoum — a partner with experience in supporting legitimate governments without infringing on their sovereignty, as seen in Libya, where Ankara helped restore field balance without imposing political guardianship.

Moreover, Turkey’s historic ties and accumulated trust with Sudan make cooperation in defense and technology an effective path toward strengthening national capabilities without dependency.

Nevertheless, the core vision should not be one of alignment but of equilibrium. Sudan must craft its own equation — one that reconciles Egypt’s school of regional diplomacy and security with Turkey’s approach to technological advancement and constructive defense cooperation.

Only through such balance can Sudan regain its strategic posture, prepare for the worst contingencies, and protect its sovereignty in a region contested by new forms of imperial ambition driven solely by the logic of interests.

According to experts, the battle of El-Fasher has redefined the nature of war in Sudan and revealed that national consciousness itself is the first line of defense before any weapon. Wars are not won solely on the battlefield, but in the collective memory — in a nation’s ability to discern friends from opportunists.

The same world that remained silent over the atrocities in Darfur is the one that failed the peoples of Libya, Yemen, and Palestine. Once again, it is being tested in El-Fasher, where humanity and morality stand on trial, exposing the emptiness of international rhetoric that moves only in step with interests, not principles.

Sudan today is fighting a battle that transcends geography — a struggle for existence itself, waged through awareness as much as through arms, and measured by the people’s ability to turn tragedy into a moment of renewed national consciousness. When El-Fasher becomes a mirror to human conscience, blood turns into testimony, and catastrophe into a compass revealing who truly stands with Sudan and who stands against it.

Sudan’s real opportunity to emerge from this crisis does not lie in an externally imposed settlement, but in reinforcing national sovereignty and creating a new regional balance built on mutual respect, not subservience.

History has shown that nations which reclaimed their sovereignty — as Ethiopia did after the Tigray war, or Chad after successive coups — managed to reposition themselves regionally despite their military weakness.

What Sudan needs, therefore, alongside pragmatic and productive alliances, is a national political project that redefines the country as an actor rather than a theater of influence — transforming the loss at El-Fasher into the starting point for a new national narrative that balances resistance with state-building.

These are the boundaries of national consciousness that war now tests. Out of chaos, awareness is born; and through will and wise stewardship, nations rise again. As history attests, Sudan will not be defeated so long as its consciousness remains alive, its memory open, its decisions sovereign, and its people aware of the gravity of this moment and the challenges it holds.