Sudanese-Egyptian Relations: The Post-War Era Tales from the Past… and Questions about the Future
By: Al-Tijani Abdul Qadir Hamid
I was in London in the mid-1980s preparing my doctoral dissertation. During his occasional visits to the city, Dr. Al-Turabi—may he rest in peace—would meet with us individually and in groups, sharing updates about Sudan and the Islamic movement while we briefed him about the situation of Muslims in Western countries. Naturally, he had many friendships and connections, and he would sometimes—out of goodwill and transparency—invite us to accompany him to private meetings with people we didn’t know.
One cold winter evening, we went with him to a small town on the outskirts of London (I regretfully cannot recall its name). He had been invited to dinner by an experienced British figure who had witnessed the final days of British rule in Sudan and subsequent periods of national governance after independence. This man also had a long-standing advisory relationship with Sayyid Abdul Rahman Al-Mahdi, which later extended to his grandson, the young (at the time) Sayyid Al-Sadiq Al-Siddiq, before eventually including Dr. Al-Turabi, who was connected to Al-Sadiq by friendship and marriage.
We traveled to the dinner in a private car provided by our close friend, Captain Al-Nur Zorouq (may he rest in peace), with another dear friend, Abdul Hafiz Ibrahim (later Sudan’s ambassador), driving along narrow, winding, and dark roads. Occasionally, in his eagerness to make it on time, he would speed up, prompting Dr. Al-Turabi, seated beside him, to gently caution, “Slow down a bit; your car is long, and the road is narrow.”
We arrived precisely on time and were warmly received by the host and his wife, both elderly, though she was more energetic and welcoming. Before we could even sit, she enthusiastically announced, “I’ve prepared a special Spanish meal for you all; I hope you enjoy it.” We thanked her, and I allowed myself to imagine sumptuous delicacies, thinking—wrongly—that her words translated, in Sudanese terms, to some form of lamb or grilled meats, akin to what we serve on special occasions.
Our host, however, appeared indifferent to his wife’s talk of the Spanish meal, as if it were of no concern to him. Likewise, he seemed uninterested in the two guests accompanying Dr. Al-Turabi. He was a heavyset man with limited movement, firmly seated in a large chair, yet quite talkative, showing a particular interest in Sudan and, specifically, in Dr. Al-Turabi. He spoke about his upcoming book on Sudan, interspersed with questions and comments, before addressing Dr. Al-Turabi directly with what seemed like news: “Your friend Al-Sadiq visited me,” referring, of course, to Sayyid Al-Sadiq Al-Mahdi. “He sat in the same chair you’re sitting in now.”
At that moment, he paused as his wife, thankfully, interrupted to announce dinner in a loud voice, seemingly indifferent to her husband’s storytelling, perhaps thinking it was his usual rambling about Sudan.
The “special Spanish meal” turned out to be a medium-sized ancient-looking clay pot surrounded by bowls of similar design. Our gracious hostess stood with a large ladle, opened the pot, releasing steam, and began scooping portions for each of us. Looking at what was served, I found a mixture of herbs, vegetables, and variously shaped and sized seafood. It was impossible to distinguish heads from tails, or legs, nor determine if they had bones or not—let alone whether they were suitable to eat or drink. We began to eat—or rather sip—exchanging glances, while the hostess stood over us, eagerly asking if we liked the dish. “Isn’t it fantastic? Do you enjoy it?” she asked. I replied, “Yes, yes, it’s delicious” (God forgive me). Despite my inner reservations, the lady was undeniably generous, attempting to express her appreciation for us, perhaps unaware of the cultural gap in culinary traditions.
Resuming his interrupted story, our host told Dr. Al-Turabi: “I said to him (referring to Sayyid Al-Sadiq), ‘Look here, the passing of President Sadat (this was shortly after Sadat’s assassination at the infamous military parade) marks the end of a generation of Egyptian leadership historically antagonistic toward Sudan. It also signals the rise of a new generation, unmarked by those adversities, providing an opportunity to reset the relationship. I advised him to send a congratulatory letter to the new Egyptian president, Hosni Mubarak, encouraging him to move past the past and start anew.’”
The host continued, “It seemed Al-Sadiq appreciated the idea and promised to act on it. Yet, shortly after, one of my Egyptian friends angrily showed me the content of the supposed ‘congratulatory letter,’ which, rather than congratulating, dredged up the negative history between Al-Umma Party and the Egyptian governments.”
He paused briefly before adding, “I was astonished by what happened but blamed myself. If I had drafted that idea concisely and asked Al-Sadiq to approve it, the matter would have been handled much better.” Then he cast a deep look at Dr. Al-Turabi, who remained silent, perhaps still grappling with his share of the “Spanish dish.”
Key Observations
The host that evening was Mr. Graham Thomas (1921–2000), a figure familiar to many Sudanese politicians, both from the north and south. They visited him at his home to discuss Sudanese matters, confiding in him and providing significant information. In turn, he conveyed or received messages, possibly acting as a backdoor diplomat between his government and others, especially Egyptian, Kenyan, and Ethiopian governments.
Regarding his story about Al-Sadiq, it’s neither confirmed nor denied. However, it aligns with the well-known friction between Al-Sadiq’s government and Egypt.
Contemporary Reflections on Sudanese-Egyptian Relations
In light of the ongoing war in Sudan, the potential for closer Sudanese-Egyptian relations emerges, driven by three key factors:
The departure of leaders whose historical hostilities hindered cooperation, paving the way for new, untainted leadership.
Shared security threats necessitating joint defense strategies.
The influx of over four million Sudanese refugees into Egypt, fostering grassroots goodwill and opportunities for constructive collaboration.
Looking ahead, the combined population of Egypt and Sudan—approximately 150 million people—forms a formidable demographic and geographic bloc capable of self-sufficiency and strength, provided it focuses inwardly, harnessing its latent energies and fostering strategic partnerships.