The Manufacturing of Political Illusion and Ritualisation of Violence : The Parallel Government of the ‘Tasis’ Alliance in Sudan

By Amgad Fareid Eltayeb

On July 26, 2025, the Rapid Support Forces (RSF) and its allied factions within the so-called “Founding (Ta’asis) Sudan Alliance” declared the formation of a parallel government under the name “Government of Peace.” Led by RSF commander Mohamed Hamdan Dagalo (Hemedti), with Abdulaziz al-Hilu as his notional deputy and a cast of symbolic figures appointed to various positions, the announcement has been widely dismissed in Sudanese political circles as an artificial construct. But behind this fiction lies a carefully timed and deeply political maneuver with far-reaching consequences for the narrative battle over legitimacy, governance, and international engagement in Sudan’s catastrophic war.
A Tactical Invention, Not a Strategic Vision
The first and most immediate question is: Why now? The answer lies in the calendar, not in the battlefield. The announcement was clearly timed to precede the July 30th meeting of the so-called “Quad”—comprising the United States, Saudi Arabia, Egypt, and the UAE—intended to reassess diplomatic approaches to the Sudanese conflict. By rushing to announce a government structure, despite internal rifts and lack of actual governance capacity, the RSF is attempting to force itself back into international discussions not as a militia to be disarmed, but as a political stakeholder with parallel governing authority.
This is not a new war tactic. Non-state armed actors have historically used state-like symbols to reframe the nature of their struggle. What is novel here is the context: the RSF is not waging an ethno-secessionist war or resisting marginalization. Its state mimicry is not about liberation but about laundering violence. This parallel government is not the culmination of political evolution; it is an extension of military impunity.
A Government in Form, Not in Function
Far from heralding a shift in governance, the RSF’s pseudo-government serves as a smokescreen for its continued predatory control over parts of Sudan. In areas under its sway—Khartoum, Gezira, and large areas of Darfur—the RSF has not established order, justice, or public services. Instead, it has unleashed a reign of terror characterized by systematic sexual violence, massacres, looting, and infrastructural devastation. The occupation of Khartoum led not only to mass civilian displacement but to the symbolic and literal destruction of Sudan’s national memory—the looting of the National Museum and the obliteration of its millennia-old artifacts.
Similarly, the humanitarian toll in Gezira and Darfur defies description: entire villages like Wad al-Noura and al-Sireha reduced to charred rubble, women gang-raped as instruments of war, and over 15,000 people killed in El Geneina and Ardamta alone during the 2023 massacres of the Masalit people. These are not the actions of a political force ready to govern—they are the signatures of a criminal regime masquerading as a state.
The RSF’s claim to governance, then, is not grounded in practice or legitimacy but in theater. The announcement of a “cabinet,” a “legislative council,” and symbolic governors for regions it does not control reveals a government that exists on paper and in press releases—not in lived reality. Its purpose is not administration but persuasion: to persuade skeptical diplomats, embarrassed patrons, and war-weary Sudanese that the RSF is more than a death machine.
Geopolitical Camouflage and the Ethics of Recognition
To understand the deeper logic of the RSF’s move, one must look beyond Sudan’s borders. This parallel government announcement is a strategic instrument designed to provide camouflage for international enablers—especially the UAE. The mounting evidence of Emirati involvement in arming and financing the RSF has placed Abu Dhabi in an increasingly uncomfortable position, as international scrutiny intensifies over its role in sustaining a group designated by the United States as responsible for ethnic cleansing and genocide.
By reframing the RSF as a “government” or a political authority pursuing peace, the UAE and other supporters hope to neutralize criticism and justify their continued engagement under the pretense of supporting a peace process, rather than fueling a war. The RSF’s structural mimicry thus becomes an ethical laundering mechanism—an attempt to reclassify warlordism as governance, and atrocity as state-building.
This strategy echoes the logic of other hybrid conflicts, where international actors exploit the ambiguity between state and non-state entities to advance geopolitical interests without the burden of accountability. But it also raises profound questions about the politics of recognition: If the international community grants even symbolic legitimacy to this formation, it risks collapsing the distinction between legitimacy and violence, between governance and predation.
The Political Architecture of Fiction
The internal structure of the RSF’s government is not merely a façade; it is a statement of intent. The inclusion of figures like former Sovereign Council member Mohamed al-Ta’ayshi and retired General Fadlallah Barma, both previously associated with civilian and party politics, is not a sign of inclusiveness but of opportunism. Many of these figures have little political capital or popular base today. Their appointments are meant to project pluralism, co-opt disillusioned elites, and fracture the civilian front by absorbing symbols of legitimacy.
More importantly, this “architecture” attempts to recast the conflict from one between a state and a rogue militia into a symmetrical contest between two rival governments. This reframing is central to the RSF’s long-term objective: to extract political parity and diplomatic recognition by force. If successful, it would transform a genocidal militia into a de facto negotiating partner, not on the basis of any popular mandate, but on the brute fact of territorial control and international complicity.
This is not just dangerous for Sudan. It sets a precedent where violence becomes the currency of negotiation, and where external powers can manufacture political actors by arming them into relevance. The cost is borne not by generals or envoys, but by the women raped in Nyala, the children killed in Wad al-Noura, and the communities starved in Elfasher.
The Quad’s Dilemma: Diplomacy or Complicity?
The July 30 meeting of the Quad comes at a pivotal moment. The RSF’s announcement is a provocation, a test of the international community’s resolve. Will the Quad treat this so-called “Government of Peace” as a party to be accommodated, or as a cynical ploy to sanitize atrocity?

So far, the Quad’s track record has been mixed. While the U.S. has sanctioned RSF leaders and labeled their crimes for what they are, it has failed to confront the external enablers -particularly UAE- with equal clarity. Saudi Arabia remains largely disengaged. Egypt continues to back the Government of Sudan while keeping diplomatic lines open with both sides. And the UAE—the elephant in the room—has not been publicly held accountable for its role in prolonging and intensifying the war.
The success of the Quad meeting will depend not on its procedural outcomes, but on its moral clarity. If it fails to draw a line against the weaponization of governance and the normalization of militia rule, it will only embolden the RSF and other violent actors to pursue political aims through mass atrocity. Conversely, if it recognizes the RSF’s maneuver for what it is—a performative fiction designed to whitewash horror— and addressed the mounting risks of the continued UAE support to the RSF, the Quad may begin to reassert the primacy of realistic solutions to end the war in Sudan.
Conclusion: A Shadow State, a Shattered Nation
The RSF’s announcement of a parallel government is not a moment of political breakthrough but a deepening of the country’s fragmentation. It is a simulacrum of governance—a shadow state born from a shattered nation. Its formation is not a signal of progress, but of peril: the peril of recognizing violence as legitimacy, of mistaking form for substance, and of allowing international interests to override ethical imperatives.
What Sudan needs is not two governments, but one legitimate authority capable of ending the war, restoring civil order, and rebuilding a social contract. Until then, the so-called “Government of Peace” remains what it is: a masquerade of power, built atop the graves of the innocent.