Post-War Sudan… Isn’t This the Way Forward?
By: El-Tigani Abdel-Gadir Hamid
(1) Now that the Sudanese have managed to cast off much of the burden of the rebel militia, they may begin to clearly realize that they were exposed over the past two years to an existential threat—one that almost annihilated them entirely as a state, a people, and a land. For the first time in their modern history, they found their state besieged, their people hunted, and their land and homes occupied. It was also the first time they woke up to find that their national army—entrusted with securing their national safety—had been completely surrounded by one of its own armed militias. It lost control over most of its sources of strength: command headquarters, ammunition factories, fuel depots, military camps, and communication networks, looking right and left without finding a friend or ally rushing to its aid (and to this day, we still do not fully understand how this catastrophe came about—was it betrayal, conspiracy, or a failure in military competence?). The situation was only salvaged when the wounded armed forces—under extremely rare circumstances—resorted to the depth of its popular support, calling upon the citizens to defend the homeland. In a moment of heroic sacrifice and immense impact, young people flocked to training camps and rushed swiftly into the battle of dignity, fighting shoulder to shoulder with the armed forces until victory was achieved.
(2) A Matter of Existence: The first lesson that must be drawn from this bitter experience—in which hundreds of martyrs and wounded fell—is that the issue of existence—the survival of the people, land, and heritage—must take precedence over all other concerns. Every path leading to a similar catastrophe must be shut. To preserve this existence, the Sudanese will inevitably face three fundamental challenges which they must address and reconcile: national security, economic development, and political legitimacy. Though debates around these issues will continue—sometimes contentiously—it is essential, if any lesson has been learned from this war, to align and unite along three primary paths:
(a) Strengthening state sovereignty, establishing a unified authority with strong military capacity capable of protecting lives, controlling territory, securing borders, and firmly holding the nation’s wealth—its gold, seas, and skies—especially since the existential battle is far from over. The aggressor and its allies continue their attacks, launching drones and inciting neighboring countries.
(b) Enhancing investment in social capital—mobilizing social and scientific energies toward a national project that aims to double the country’s productive capacities (defense, food, and medicine alike). This requires a dual plan: on one hand, modernizing and strengthening the defensive-security base to face a potential second wave of aggression; on the other hand, protecting the domestic production base from the upcoming shocks of global market fluctuations, inflation, and recession driven by international and regional forces. Such a dual strategy cannot succeed unless the mobilization continues and deepens: youth must return to the battlefields when needed, and the army—during peacetime—must contribute to construction, production, and manufacturing. The successful “defensive partnership” that led to victory in the battle of dignity should evolve into a successful “productive partnership” in the battle for economic development—agriculture, industry, transport, communication, innovation, and recycling. This could be a practical interpretation of the slogan “One Army, One People”—a slogan the masses sang throughout the war years—where the barriers dissolve between the military trench, the scientific lab, and the factories producing food, medicine, and ammunition, giving rise to a massive development project. No one should be surprised by such a vision. If they are, they should review examples of the giant national projects that built great nations, such as the Manhattan Project (1942), where American academics, military personnel, and industrial leaders united during wartime to achieve the scientific, technological, and military superiority the U.S. still enjoys. Similar civil-academic-military partnerships have propelled the rise of many other nations as well.
(c) Elevating grassroots and professional forces to decision-making positions. We must remember that these patient community-based forces and migrant professionals (expatriates) represent the true strength of Sudanese society. The current war served as a real test of their endurance and capacity in times of catastrophe—they were the ones who sheltered, fed, and treated thousands of families fleeing the horrors of war, and they also significantly supported the battle of dignity, backing the armed forces with money and manpower. We must also remember that the militias and their regional allies not only sought to destroy the state but also targeted the sources of strength within Sudanese civil society, aiming to dry up its lifelines: destroying water wells, power transformers, electrical lines, grinding mills, looting pharmacies, hospitals, dialysis centers, and targeting local elders just as they did doctors, pharmacists, and engineers.
(3) Constraints of Reality: The call to unite around these proposed paths does not stem from fantasy, but from the harsh realities on the ground. Sudan now faces, especially after the devastation of the recent war, dire humanitarian and social conditions and a deeply deteriorated economy. This is exacerbated by a frightening leadership vacuum. The political elite (those before the December 2018 uprising and those who rose after it) are mired in internal conflicts and rivalries that prevent them from focusing on the existential threats facing Sudan or the calamities befalling society—collapsed institutions, lost wealth, and a shattered youth future. These divisions also hinder them from seizing the opportunities Sudan holds with its natural resources, vast agricultural lands, precious minerals, and strategic location. Meanwhile, major external powers (like the U.S. and Europe) are currently preoccupied with their own internal crises and fierce trade wars; they are not expected to open their coffers to support Sudan or others.
Therefore, it is unwise to tie Sudan’s future to its political parties or place too much hope in the current political elite. These elites often do more harm than good; some suffer from foundational flaws, others from aging and irrelevance. They possess neither grand visions to inspire the public nor capable leaders to generate ideas and mobilize energies. It would be better to leave these parties to sort out their internal issues, mend their relations, and re-evaluate their programs and goals, while allowing new blocs and social actors—composed of researchers, experts, local communities, farmers, businesspeople, industrialists, and ambitious youth with a genuine stake in development—to take the lead in rebuilding Sudan during this critical period. The political parties may catch up with the national momentum later—once they recover.
If we accept this premise, then we must reconsider our current economic and political approaches.
First: The Economic Model We must admit that we suffer from terrifying levels of unemployment, rising living costs, a sharp decline in local production, deteriorating infrastructure, and worsening conditions in both healthcare and education. But we must also stop deceiving ourselves with dreams of foreign aid or donor promises. We need to rethink our economic mindset and replace it with one built on the assumption that recovery from this massive disaster must begin with a strong and just state—one that secures safety, mobilizes energy, and focuses the nation’s efforts on a strategic goal: restarting and increasing production, then using the returns to meet basic citizen needs (security, healthcare, and education). We must look to successful emerging societies (like China) that built roads and bridges with the labor of their own people, inspired by the legacy of their ancestors who moved mountains and created miracles—not with foreign aid or imported tools.
One insightful thinker illustrated the difference between material and social capital with an example: If a massive earthquake destroyed New York City, the U.S.—even with all its material wealth—could not purchase another New York. But it could, through its social capital, rebuild hundreds of cities like it. Social capital, not material capital, determines the fate of nations. Similarly, 3 to 5 million well-trained, determined Sudanese youth could rebuild Sudan—if given the chance—just as they helped build other countries that were once insignificant.
Second: The Political Model We Sudanese must change our political thinking. We must, for now, stop chasing foreign conferences, workshops, constitutional drafts, and charters—we’ve tried that before and reaped only disappointment. We must also stop chasing an ideal political model for which we currently lack the logistical, security, and economic prerequisites. Instead, we should begin this phase of survival and restoration with a minimum democratic program (justice and rule of law, geographic representation, expert consultation), and then gradually work toward a fuller democracy. Insisting on immediately achieving a competitive, party-based democracy like that of stable, prosperous Western nations is unrealistic. Even these Western democracies did not reach their current (flawed) systems overnight. Many neighboring African societies are still progressing—step by step—from autocracy, to hybrid systems, to more mature and functional governance.
Third: What Can We Expect? If the proposed developmental economic model succeeds, it won’t just stop aggression, maintain security, and raise living standards. It may also narrow the gap between the military, academics, and entrepreneurs; reduce dependence on foreign aid; and ease the political temperature between rival political groups. It might also rebalance the relationship between neglected rural areas and dominant urban centers. Persisting in injustice and resentment only breeds social and psychological hostility to democracy—and openness to dictatorship—as seen in some neighboring societies after the Arab Spring uprisings.
And there is no power except with God.
