Sudan as a Strategic Target: Why the “Civil War” Label Misleads—and Conceals an Organized Invasion

Dr. Abdelaziz Al-Zubair Basha

It is easy—and perhaps politically convenient—to describe what is unfolding in Sudan as an internal conflict or a power struggle between two rival generals. Yet this widely used framing neither reflects reality nor explains the scale of destruction, the nature of the tools employed, or the strategic objectives that are becoming clearer by the day.

The truth is that what is happening in Sudan is not a contest for power, but a systematic process of state dismantlement—managed through limited local proxies, fueled by regional actors, and met with an international silence that borders on complicity.

If this were merely a feud between generals, cities would not be targeted in this manner, the country’s social and economic fabric would not be deliberately destroyed, and vast swathes of territory would not have been turned into open arenas for mercenaries, arms traffickers, and contract killing. What is taking place goes far beyond a struggle over authority; it amounts to the reengineering of the state itself. The army is being drained, society is being torn apart, and the resulting vacuum is filled by forces with no connection to Sudan—or to its future.

Modern invasion no longer requires armies to cross borders openly. Today, it is enough to finance militias, arm them, and provide political and media cover that recasts aggression as an internal conflict. When planning is external and objectives are strategic, the number of local tools becomes a secondary concern.

Sudan today is part of a broader regional map being redrawn in plain sight. The push to recognize so-called “Somaliland” is not an isolated development, but a calculated test case for dismantling states by legitimizing fragile entities. Discussions about relocating Palestinians from Gaza are not mere media noise; they reflect a political mindset that treats Arab geography as a space open to redistribution according to the interests of distant powers. In this context, fragmenting large states into smaller, weaker units becomes an effective means of control, plunder, and the perpetuation of dependency.

With its vast resources, immense territory, and strategic location, Sudan represents a major prize in this scheme. Gold, agricultural land, ports, and an open arena for exporting chaos and mercenaries make the Sudanese state an attractive target. No one wages this kind of war in the name of democracy or human rights; the real drivers are resources, influence, and the reshaping of power balances.

To Sudan’s friends: standing with Sudan today is not about backing one side in an internal dispute. It is a principled stance in defense of the very idea of the state. Supporting Sudan at this moment is an investment in the stability of the entire region, because Sudan’s collapse will not remain a domestic matter—it will export chaos across borders.

As for those betting on Sudan’s fragmentation, they should recognize that this is a short-sighted wager. Chaos cannot be contained, mercenaries know no loyalty, and what is being sown in Sudan today will be reaped elsewhere tomorrow—perhaps closer than some might imagine.

The conclusion is clear:

What is unfolding in Sudan is neither a civil war, nor a clash between generals, nor a case of state failure. It is a disguised invasion aimed at dismantling the state, looting its resources, and redrawing the region to serve a small minority at the expense of entire peoples. History has repeatedly shown that those who remain silent as a state is dismantled today will find themselves tomorrow explaining how the fire reached their own doorstep.

Sudan is not asking for sympathy, nor is it seeking emotive headlines. Sudan asserts a single reality:

Either what is happening is understood for what it truly is—or the world will be left to face the consequences of its silence.