The Deep Dwellers in the Militia’s Courtyard: From the Ant’s Mandible Gate

By Yusuf Amara Abusin

At the University of Khartoum (before its downfall), I had a friend who used to socialize with a very intellectual girl, deeply interested in feminist thought, with a wide horizon and an open mind. We had many discussions about the roots of the concept of liberation and the “revolution” she was living through. She leaned toward me more than my friend, but I – sadly – targeted only her intellect, and nothing more. As a result, she grew bored of our conversations. As for my friend, he continued to maintain his relationship with her, despite her unfounded hostility toward the conservative society to which both he and I belonged.

I met her after a while and approached her. I found that she had distanced herself from my friend and was now hanging out with a different person each day, always arriving in a different car. All her relationships were chaotic and lacked commitment. One evening, I ran into her at a café with a suspicious “sugar daddy,” so I asked her a direct question: “Are you an intellectual and liberated woman, or…?” She replied, indifferently: “The road to ## begins with the mind…”

This girl closely resembles two individuals, Khalid Noor and Abdul Hafeez Meryod. Both were former members of the Islamic movement and marginalized. Khalid was an active member in the student sector of the Islamic Movement, but the organization sidelined him. He is a superficial individual with limited abilities and weak analytical and justifying skills. Meryod, on the other hand, was a distinguished intellectual, writer, and screenwriter, whose personality combines Sufism, Shiism, philosophy, and existentialism. His writing reflects a deep engagement with the concepts of margin and center.

Both individuals differ in their abilities and capacities, but both were so consumed by hardship that they couldn’t afford to stay in a hotel or buy a flight ticket for a national or international event outside Sudan. What binds Noor and Meryod together is the path they both ended up on.

The ant’s mandible is the best path an intellectual activist can take to fully embrace the state of a militia fighter. As the feminist thinker mentioned earlier, the path to becoming a “janjaweed” starts with the mind. The intellectual consumed by hardship lives out the theory of Darwinian evolution. He starts as weak and doubtful, then becomes disillusioned, then subtly accuses others, then calls for peace and neutrality, only to eventually morph into a complete janjaweed, speaking in janjaweed language that aligns with the rhetoric of Goni and his associates.

This process is not followed by ordinary opportunists. A person like Salah Sandala, Ahmed Kassala, or Muneem Al-Rabeea wouldn’t put much effort into changing their position. They may change their stance twice in one day without anyone being shocked or objecting to their actions, because these people have conditioned their followers to accept the truth—that they are professional opportunists. They are not ashamed or embarrassed, and there is no piece of flesh on their faces they are afraid to lose.

The dilemma, however, is that Meryod, for example, presented himself as an intellectual and thinker aligned with many positive and religious values. He also has experience and a history with the Islamic Movement. He recounts stories and cites examples in his articles like this: “Once, we were with Sheikh Ali Osman, along with the late so-and-so and the late so-and-so, and my humble self.” He was closer than many to Ali Osman, Nafi, Karti, and Osama Abdullah, many of whom are now fighting against the janjaweed. These are the very same people Meryod and his new group claim are the Karti and Osama Abdullah militias.

I don’t know Khalid Noor well, but I used to respect Meryod a lot and trusted his opinion. However, he has become shameless. The more things a person feels ashamed of, the closer they are to perfection. Belonging to the janjaweed is something to be ashamed of and should be renounced. But as the saying goes, “the one who’s struck down never hears the cry.”