Questioning the Assumptions of Conflict Resolution between Khartoum, Damascus, and Gaza
By Abdel Wahab El-Affendi
The outbreak of the war waged by the Rapid Support Forces (RSF) militia—and its local and foreign supporters—against the Sudanese army has sparked sharp polarization among observers and regional and international organizations about how to end the conflict. Eventually, this debate evolved into a dispute between two perspectives. The first is the traditional view of conflict resolution, which involves working within the prevailing balance of power and luring the parties into a compromise that tempts them to accept a ceasefire, leading gradually to a peace deal in which each side gains some of its objectives.
On the other hand, a different view emerged: that Sudan’s war was not a confrontation between two military parties, but a war primarily waged against Sudanese civilians by a heavily armed militia—RSF—while the Sudanese army was a third party defending itself and the civilians. From this standpoint, any ceasefire or deal between the army and the militia would come at the expense of civilians.
The Sudanese army’s success—along with waves of civilian volunteers supporting it—in restoring security paved the way for swiftly resolving the humanitarian crisis.
This second position was supported by the voices of civilians in Khartoum, who repeatedly cried out during each declared humanitarian truce, saying such ceasefires only enabled the militia to raid homes and commit extortion, looting, and murder, leading to negative humanitarian outcomes. The author found himself engaged early in this debate, through his writings in Al-Araby Al-Jadeed, and through discussions with African, international, and European diplomats in informal meetings that started in the war’s early days. These were led by a former African president and held under an African mandate.
The attendees included European envoys to Sudan or the region, senior U.S. diplomats, and Sudanese figures—some from the ousted transitional government. The author took a stance supporting the second view, arguing that the proposed humanitarian ceasefire (at international request) could not truly be humanitarian unless it ensured an end to home invasions, and the militia’s blockade of aid and civilian movement, including those fleeing attacks. He insisted that any ceasefire must include protection of homes, hospitals, and public infrastructure, and secure the roads.
Only a handful of Sudanese participants supported the author’s proposal. However, the meeting’s chair adopted the position and tasked a group of experts with drafting what became known as the “Humanitarian Affairs Protocol.” This protocol found its way to the mediators of the Jeddah process (Saudi Arabia) shortly before that summit, becoming the foundation of the “Jeddah Agreement” signed on May 11, 2023, by the two Sudanese negotiating delegations.
Yet none of its provisions were implemented. The militia stalled and imposed conditions while continuing to commit atrocities and violations, escalating its inhumanity even as the international parties, paradoxically, kept raising the banner of “humanitarianism” to justify more incentives for the militia’s behavior—without restraint or accountability.
Meanwhile, in Gaza, the logic of brute force has obliterated any semblance of humanity in dealing with an utterly barbaric situation.
Our expectations have plummeted so far that in our meetings with international envoys and diplomats, we now simply ask that pressure be placed on the militia to stop its violations—without even calling for accountability. The author repeatedly urged European and American envoys to send a clear message: the RSF will never gain political legitimacy unless it halts its abuses. These are internationally banned acts—during war or peace—and should not be up for negotiation, let alone reward.
The author was shocked by the evasive and weak responses. In a discussion with a UN diplomat from an African country who was assigned a significant role, the diplomat asked: “Isn’t the situation the same in army-controlled areas?” The author nearly ended the conversation but calmly explained that army-controlled areas are where millions fled for safety from militia-held zones—and that the diplomat had a duty to investigate such matters before assuming his post.
In another meeting with an envoy from a major European country, the envoy cited an Arab country’s role in the crisis and said they could not pressure it because the U.S. and Israel need its support in the Gaza war. The author was stunned. What the envoy essentially admitted was a kind of reciprocity in supporting violations: “You support our crimes in Gaza, and we’ll support yours in Sudan.”
Looking at the entire issue now, the author sees it from another angle—not just because of the questionable roles of so-called peacemakers, but also because the changing realities on the ground have demonstrated the effectiveness of a “direct solution” to crises like this—by imposing the rule of law on a rogue armed force that cannot be reasoned with. While international and regional powers failed or refused to apply pressure, the victims had—and still have—the right and duty to defend themselves.
In a conversation with Western diplomats, the author once joked—though he was dead serious—that the best humanitarian aid for Sudanese at that moment was supplying the army with more drones. There was no use in sending external aid through militia-controlled areas where food was being stolen from the homes of the poor. Deterring the militia from stealing food already in-country would be far more cost-effective than shipping tons of aid and relief workers. Khartoum’s markets were full of food of all kinds—it was insecurity that separated people from their meals, with many dying on their way to buy bread or vegetables.
What truly matters is that the success of the Sudanese resistance—represented by the army and the volunteers—has restored security to most parts of eastern, central, and mid-western Sudan, including the capital. This paved the way to solving the humanitarian crisis swiftly. Stability now supports agricultural production and market recovery, while helping the affected will cost far less. It also facilitates relief for millions at a fraction of the cost of cross-border operations. Most importantly, using local capacities (with modest support from friendly, non-exploitative countries) sets an important regional precedent for people’s protection and strengthening state authority with popular backing.
Had the RSF criminals accepted the Jeddah initiative or others, they might have preserved most of their forces, weapons, and territory.
When we add to this stunningly swift and total victory in Sudan the recent collapse in Syria of a deeply entrenched, externally supported regime—within days—compared to the utter failure of even humanitarian appeals in Gaza, it is time to reconsider the prevailing “conflict resolution” doctrine. This doctrine often assumes that power trumps justice and that peace must mean the weak yielding to the strong—with a superficial polish to an ugly reality.
Instead, we must rethink the true strength and potential of people—not as slogans but as actual forces that can impose their will amid darkness and false “middle-ground” solutions. In both Sudan and Syria, the forces of oppression inadvertently paved the way for their own downfall. Had Assad accepted the Astana or Geneva proposals, or the Arab initiative, he might have remained in power. Had the RSF accepted the Jeddah initiative, they could have preserved their military and political presence—backed by local and foreign supporters.
But God willed otherwise, lifting the suffering from peoples who might have endured far worse. In contrast, in Gaza, the logic of brute force has obliterated all traces of humanity in dealing with a savage situation. Perhaps this is a lesson for peacemaking efforts and their champions: that making peace doesn’t mean submitting the weak to the strong—or being trapped by limited options and unimaginative, routine solutions that refuse to think outside the box.
