“Hemedti” to Burhan: You Refused It Seasoned—Now You Eat It Plain

By Abdullahi Ali Ibrahim

For Mohamed Hamdan Dagalo, widely known as Hemedti, the idea of integration into the Sudanese Armed Forces was nothing short of heresy. Not only did he never reconcile himself to the notion of merging the Rapid Support Forces (RSF) into the army, he openly and consistently rejected it.

Summary
In his recent speech in Uganda, Hemedti’s reference to building a “new Sudanese army” suggested not merely an attempt to tally his gains from the war, but also to highlight the losses of his rival, General Abdel Fattah al-Burhan. Yet Hemedti’s long-standing refusal to accept the integration of the RSF into the armed forces has largely been overlooked in the dominant narratives surrounding the war—particularly in attempts to identify who viewed war as simply another continuation of politics.

During that speech before a gathering of supporters in Uganda, Hemedti made a remark that passed almost unnoticed despite its significance in identifying the origins of the war and the interests of those who ignited it. He said that discussions surrounding agreements such as the Framework Agreement (January 2023), which sought military and security reform after the military’s October 2021 coup against the transitional government, had once centered on integrating the RSF and armed movements into the national army.

“But today,” he said, “we are talking about building a completely new army.”

He added that the outcome had vindicated General Abdel Fattah al-Burhan, commander-in-chief of the Sudanese Armed Forces and head of the Sovereign Council. Burhan had rejected the Framework Agreement that would have merged the RSF into the army. Now, however, war had come, and the process of integration would extend even to Burhan’s own army—within a new, national, professional force. Hemedti explained that this new army would be built on proportional representation, meaning fair representation for Sudan’s various communities in line with their population size.

He added with a touch of sardonic humor that Darfur would likely dominate the new army because of its population growth, joking that its people tend to marry multiple wives, unlike communities in central Sudan and along the Nile who often settle for one.

The RSF as a Second Army

Integration into the armed forces had always been anathema to Hemedti. The depth of this stance was documented by former World Bank legal expert Salman Mohammed Salman in his book Rapid Support Forces: Origins, Expansion, and the Road to the April 2023 War (June 2023). The study traces the legal status of the RSF since the passage of its founding law in 2017.

According to Salman, Hemedti was careful to ensure that his forces functioned as a second army in Sudan, operating parallel to the national armed forces. The RSF law included provisions subordinating the force to the army in only two circumstances: during states of emergency within operational war zones, and if the president decided—under constitutional authority—to merge it into the army.

Hemedti strongly objected to the latter clause. Salman recounts that he spent nearly a month negotiating with the government over the wording before reluctantly accepting it so that the presidential decree could be issued.

Even then, Hemedti remained deeply opposed to the provision until political conditions shifted after the December 2018 revolution. During the transitional period that followed, the army relied on the RSF to suppress protests and maintain control. In return, the ruling military council removed the presidential integration clause through a constitutional decree in July 2019—effectively securing the RSF’s status as an autonomous parallel force.

“We Are Already an Army”

Hemedti’s rejection of integration was not hidden. He repeated it openly on several occasions.

In a 2018 interview with journalist Al-Tahir Hassan al-Tom on the program Until the Picture Is Complete, the exchange unfolded as follows:

Al-Tahir: What will happen to the RSF after its mission ends? Will it become part of the army?
Hemedti: Its status will remain Rapid Support Forces. It will continue training and developing. It is a force now.
Al-Tahir: So it will remain in existence?
Hemedti: What do you mean—once the mission ends, they just throw it away?
Al-Tahir: It joins the army.
Hemedti: It already is an army.
Al-Tahir: Integrated into the army.
Hemedti: It is not a militia to be integrated. It is already a force.

A similar sentiment appears in the book Janjaweed of the Empire by Dr. Ashari Ahmed Mahmoud, who recounts remarks Hemedti made during a memorial speech for a Sudanese army officer on June 4, 2021. At a time when protests in Khartoum were calling not merely for the integration but the dissolution of the RSF, Hemedti dismissed such demands as ignorance of the force’s origins and role.

He argued that the RSF had been created to reassure the former National Salvation regime (1989–2019), which feared that armed movements from Darfur might advance on Khartoum. According to Hemedti, the government had once even contemplated demolishing the bridge linking Kosti to the capital in order to block a potential attack from the west. The RSF’s presence, he said, removed the need for such drastic measures.

To dissolve the force after such service, he argued, would be a form of ingratitude—“they eat the meat and throw away the bones.”

A War of Political Dead Ends

In that same speech, Hemedti argued that calls for integration were meaningless because the RSF had been established by legislation passed by an elected parliament. It was not simply a battalion or company that could be absorbed at will.

He even warned that such discussions might lead to the country’s fragmentation. In his view, he and Burhan stood on equal footing: Burhan had been appointed after graduating from the military academy, while Hemedti had been elevated by presidential decree despite never attending it. Sudanese colloquial language distinguishes between a “college general” and a “field general,” but Hemedti insisted that both ranks ultimately came from the same authority.

Against this backdrop, Hemedti’s talk in Uganda about building a new army seemed less like a simple statement of policy and more like a declaration of political victory over Burhan. His refusal to accept integration—long ignored in discussions of the war—raises a crucial question: who had reached a political dead end from which war appeared to be the only exit?

The “New Army” Proposal

Hemedti had already promoted the concept of a new national army in a document issued by the RSF titled “Rapid Support Vision”, which called for: “Acknowledging the necessity of establishing a new Sudanese army from the existing multiple forces in order to build a single professional national military institution that reflects Sudan’s diversity in leadership and ranks according to demographic weight.”

This idea also began circulating among some Sudanese political groups, particularly within the “No to War” camp, where calls to dissolve the current army have gained traction amid criticism of its long record in governance and conflict.

For Hemedti, the war’s first tangible reward came in January 2024, when he signed a political declaration in Addis Ababa with the civilian coalition Taqaddum (Coordination of Civil Democratic Forces). The security reform provisions in that document closely mirrored the RSF’s earlier vision: both called for the creation of a new national professional army representing Sudan’s population proportionally, effectively dissolving the multiplicity of armed forces.

In both texts—the RSF vision and the Addis Ababa declaration—all armed groups were treated as equal components of a fragmented security landscape that would eventually dissolve into a single national army.

The Framework Agreement and the Road to War

Given Hemedti’s long-standing resistance to integration, a question arises: was the Framework Agreement of December 2022—championed by the Forces of Freedom and Change (FFC)—a strategic miscalculation?

The agreement called explicitly for the integration of the RSF into the armed forces, something Hemedti had resisted since the force’s creation in 2017. Yet the revolutionary movement had already gone further, demanding not just integration but the dissolution of the RSF entirely under the slogan:

“The army to the barracks, the Janjaweed dissolved—no militias rule a state.”

Hemedti once remarked that he would not sit idle while revolutionaries “sharpened their knives” to slaughter him.

Ironically, the FFC later claimed that the Framework Agreement would have created a single professional army had it not been sabotaged by Islamists who allegedly ignited the war to return to power. But had they fully grasped Hemedti’s deep resistance to integration, they might have realized that the agreement itself could trigger confrontation.

The document also barred military forces from engaging in commercial investment—a provision that carried its own implications.

“The Porridge Burned Me”

In Sudanese folklore, when someone stirs up conflict among children, they sometimes throw dust in the air and cry, “The porridge burned me!” One child then throws dust at another, and the fight begins.

In that sense, the Framework Agreement may have acted as the spark.

Hemedti’s message to Burhan now seems clear: by stubbornly rejecting the Framework Agreement—which would have integrated the RSF into the army—Burhan ultimately found himself in a worse position.

In Sudanese vernacular, the situation can be summed up by a proverb:
“You refused it seasoned, and now you must eat it plain.”

In Hemedti’s telling, the war has already moved beyond the question of integrating the RSF into the existing army. Instead, the war itself may dissolve the entire military structure into a new army altogether.