From War Crime to Murder: A Legal Reading of the Rapid Support Forces’ Attacks on Civilians

Dr. Abdelnasir Salim Hamid

Since the outbreak of war between the Sudanese army and the Rapid Support Forces (RSF) in April 2023, a clear pattern has emerged of targeting civilians and civilian infrastructure. However, the beginning of 2025 marked a more dangerous turning point, with the RSF escalating its use of drones to carry out precise strikes on targets completely devoid of any military character. The war is no longer confined to the frontlines; it has extended into emergency rooms, power stations, and mosques. Civilians have become direct targets of a weapon supposedly “smart” but now being used outside any legal or ethical framework.

On January 24, a drone strike targeted the Saudi Maternity Hospital in the city of El Fasher, killing more than 70 people—mostly women and children. It was a direct hit on the emergency ward, carried out in broad daylight, without any military engagement or activity in the area. One surviving doctor described the scene: “The operating room turned into a crater. We never imagined a maternity hospital could be a military target.” This attack was not an exception. Less than two weeks later, drones struck the Merowe power station, followed by another attack on the Shoukh station, leaving three states without electricity and water. The most symbolically charged escalation occurred on March 23, when Al-Ridwan Mosque in the Kuku neighborhood of Khartoum was bombed during evening prayers, killing 11 worshippers. There were no military forces present, no gunfire—only civilians in prayer.

These attacks show that the RSF is not merely using drones as a combat tool, but as a weapon of collective punishment and political messaging. After losing many areas, the RSF turned to drones to strike regions from which it had withdrawn—a form of retaliation and an attempt to destabilize army-controlled zones. The aim is as political as it is military: to prove that no area is safe and that the RSF’s reach extends even to a nursery or maternity ward.

International law leaves no ambiguity in classifying these acts. Article 52 of Additional Protocol I to the Geneva Conventions affirms the protection of civilian objects unless they are used for direct participation in hostilities. Article 54 prohibits targeting essential resources for civilian survival. Article 8 of the Rome Statute classifies the deliberate targeting of hospitals and places of worship as war crimes. Article 28 of the same statute holds commanders criminally responsible if they fail to prevent or punish such crimes committed by their subordinates.

These violations are not just “war crimes” in a technical sense; they are also deliberate acts of murder, given the nature of the targets, the timing of the strikes, and the clearly civilian identity of the victims. International criminal law does not differentiate between conventional weapons and drones. It considers intent, outcome, and context. When a drone is launched at a hospital, mosque, or service station without any military necessity, the criminal intent becomes evident. According to the principle of mens rea (general and specific criminal intent), the repeated nature of these acts across different times and places confirms that what is happening is not isolated misconduct, but a systematic killing policy. These are mass killings committed knowingly, qualifying for individual prosecution under both international and national jurisdictions, including universal jurisdiction.

What’s ironic is that these crimes are too blatant to deny, yet accountability remains entirely absent. No international court has acted, no fact-finding missions have been initiated, and no organized international pressure has materialized. Reports are written, the international community expresses “concern,” while drones continue to fly and strike. This silence is no longer read as neutrality—it is clearly understood as a green light for continued crimes.

What makes this pattern even more dangerous is that it threatens not only Sudan. The normalization of drone attacks on civilians could become a repeatable model in future conflicts. From Libya to Yemen, from Ukraine to Gaza, what is being committed today in El Fasher could be replicated tomorrow over a school or a crowded market. When perpetrators escape punishment, killing becomes repeatable.

What is happening in Sudan is not only a humanitarian tragedy but a decisive test for international humanitarian law and the credibility of the global system as a whole. What is needed today is not more statements of condemnation, but real and effective action. The United Nations, led by the Security Council, must shoulder its legal and humanitarian responsibilities by launching an immediate, independent international mechanism to investigate these crimes, hold those responsible accountable, and provide protection to civilians and civilian infrastructure now being directly targeted.

Silence is no longer acceptable. Delay means more blood. The continuation of these crimes without a firm response deepens the victims’ sense that the law is applied selectively and gives perpetrators a sense of total impunity. All available tools must be used—from referral to the International Criminal Court, to individual sanctions, to the deployment of monitoring and documentation missions—to halt this disgraceful erosion of the rules of conflict.

The drone that bombs a hospital today may strike a nursery tomorrow. Unless the United Nations draws a clear red line now, the distinction between war and genocide, between politics and crime, will be erased.

Will the United Nations act before these crimes become just another precedent added to the record of impunity?