Chlorine in Sudan: An Accusation Without Evidence, and a Pressure Tool at a Critical Moment

By Dr. Abdel Nasser Salim Hamid

In May 2025, the U.S. State Department issued a direct accusation against the Sudanese army, claiming it used chlorine gas against the Rapid Support Forces (RSF). The accusation was heavy in implication, but empty of evidence. No medical report was presented, no samples were collected, not a single image was shown, and no investigation teams were dispatched. It was merely a statement, attributed to “security” sources, which was picked up by international media and presented as a confirmed fact. This is not unprecedented in international politics, but it remains dangerous in both timing and substance.

Chlorine gas is neither rare nor secretive; it is produced and used daily in the water and industrial sectors. However, its use as a chemical weapon is strictly prohibited under the Chemical Weapons Convention, which Sudan joined in 1999. When weaponized, chlorine causes unmistakable symptoms: choking cough, burns to mucous membranes, severe shortness of breath, and potentially fatal pulmonary edema. These effects appear within minutes, spread rapidly among victims, and cannot be hidden—not from doctors, not from residents, and not from cameras.

Despite all of this, not a single such case has emerged. There are no reports from field hospitals, no recordings from victims, no witnesses from affected areas, not even satellite images or footage from battlefronts. The complete absence of evidence in such a case, especially in a region under constant media coverage, is not just a random void—it is an indicator of how weak the narrative truly is.

Detecting chlorine technically does not require complex UN committees. Simple portable devices can detect its traces in soil or air within hours. Yet no lab analysis has been announced, and no independent party has acted—not the UN, not the Organization for the Prohibition of Chemical Weapons (OPCW), nor even major human rights organizations known for addressing such issues. In this context, silence is not neutrality—it’s a sign of exhausted justifications.

The accusation also collapses under military analysis. Using chlorine gas in an open environment like Darfur is a tactical failure. The gas evaporates quickly, is dispersed by wind, and is difficult to direct with precision—making it ineffective in exposed terrain. In fact, it could pose a greater threat to the forces deploying it than to the enemy. By contrast, chlorine was documented in Syria where it was used in enclosed urban environments or tunnels, where containment increased its lethality. The difference isn’t in the substance, but in the military environment and infrastructure. Sudan lacks both the context and the engineering capabilities for such tactics.

From a capabilities standpoint, the Sudanese army has no historical record of possessing weapons of mass destruction, and OPCW reports have never indicated any active chemical weapons program in the country. Sudan has undergone technical visits, and no violations have been recorded in this area. German chemical weapons expert Markus Reiner recently stated to DW: “There are no technical indicators proving chlorine use in Sudan. If there were, they would have been detected through simple environmental testing.”

What’s also notable is the timing of the accusation—it coincides with significant military and political shifts in Sudan. The army is advancing against the RSF on multiple fronts, and the government is working to restore its position in the international diplomatic arena after years of sanctions. Within this context, the accusation appears more like a distraction tactic—or a pressure signal—within a complex regional power struggle involving actors such as the UAE, Turkey, Russia, and Saudi Arabia.

Amid all this arises a crucial question: If the Sudanese army truly used chlorine gas, why has nothing been seen? Why is there not a single confirmed victim, or any on-the-ground evidence, or even a neutral analysis? Silence is not evidence—but in this case, it comes dangerously close to an admission of the claim’s collapse.

And here lies the point: the accusation is not treated as news—it is a political weapon in itself. Chlorine gas hasn’t been seen, analyzed, or medically reported. But the effect of the accusation remains: disruption of the narrative, hindrance to progress, and an open door to new sanctions. This is not a purely technical matter—it is a soft tool for reshaping players’ positions.

In contrast, the Sudanese government has not limited itself to a political rebuttal—it has announced the formation of an independent national committee to investigate the matter. The committee includes medical and military experts, operates under judicial oversight, and is open to international observers, including from the OPCW. Though this move came after a period of relative silence, it represents a responsible action that returns the discussion to the realm of facts, not perceptions.

The question now is: Who will bear responsibility for the accusation if it proves false? Will the international community address the damage caused by an unproven claim? Will the media continue promoting such narratives instead of investigating them? Or will Sudan—like many countries in the Global South—be judged once again on suspicion rather than evidence?

Justice is not built on intentions or statements. Accusations that affect state sovereignty and the reputation of its military cannot be handled through press releases—they must be scrutinized by science and substantiated by hard evidence. In today’s world, simply mentioning banned weapons is enough to trigger a global political response, even if nothing is proven on the ground. That is the ethical dilemma the world must confront: how do we hold the accused accountable… when no one holds proof?

Truth is not a feeling. Nor is it a press statement. It is something tangible—measurable, analyzable, and verifiable. And so far, there is no truth confirming chlorine was used in Sudan—not even anything close.

History does not record declarations. It records what is proven—with evidence and undeniable facts.