Sudan War: The Millennium of Resilience and Accountability… and a Moment of Recognition
Dr. Osama Mohamed Abdelrahim
The war in Sudan has reached its thousandth day since it erupted on the morning of Saturday, April 15, 2023. In many cases, the passage of time in conflicts is not merely a numerical count recorded in the annals of war; it often transforms into a historical marker that reveals the true nature of what has happened—and what continues to unfold.
Wars that cross the threshold of a thousand days without resolution are rarely accidental or fleeting internal explosions. More often, they are conflicts engineered for attrition rather than decisiveness, managed through prolongation instead of resolution, and driven by fragmentation rather than direct confrontation. In political history, the thousandth day represents a moment of exposure: exposure of real objectives, of the limits of the state, and of the network of interests that have thrived on the continuation of war far more than on its end.
As Sudan’s war reaches this milestone, it becomes clear that what the country has endured is not merely a struggle for power, but a process of forced state reengineering—aimed at breaking its sovereign core, tearing apart its social fabric, and transforming it into an open testing ground for proxy warfare and war economies. The thousandth day should not be read as a military failure for one side or a success for another, but rather as a deliberate failure of the logic of solutions, and a temporary success for the logic of keeping Sudan suspended in a condition of neither decisive war nor sustainable peace.
Historically, nations do not cross the thousand-day mark in war and emerge unchanged. At this threshold, either a profound national reassessment begins—redefining the state and the meaning of sovereignty—or the country slides deeper into a slow erosion that consumes time, people, and place alike. From this perspective, Sudan’s thousandth day of war is not a moment for counting days, but a critical moment for national accountability—one that must answer fundamental questions: Who is managing this war? In whose interest has it continued for a thousand days? What must end now, and what must be done to prevent a thousand days from turning into two thousand?
With the war entering its thousandth day, it is no longer possible to overlook the reality of the systematic devastation inflicted by the militia on Sudan’s geography, people, and state. The destruction of cities and villages, infrastructure, and service institutions was not an incidental outcome of chaotic fighting, but the result of a deliberate combat strategy that turned civilian spaces into open battlefields, used civilians as human shields, and intentionally dismantled the foundations of life to subjugate society through terror rather than politics.
Throughout this conflict, the militia has committed grave and systematic violations amounting to war crimes and crimes against humanity under international humanitarian law. These violations include extrajudicial killings, rape and sexual violence, forced displacement, widespread looting, destruction of health and educational facilities, and the targeting of residential neighborhoods—clear breaches of the rules of engagement, the principles of distinction and proportionality, and the most basic norms of military conduct. These crimes are not subject to statutes of limitation, cannot be justified by any political or military context, and impose unequivocal individual criminal responsibility on militia leaders before both national and international justice mechanisms.
Responsibility does not stop with the direct perpetrators alone; it extends morally and legally to supporters, financiers, facilitators, and all those who provided weapons, political cover, media platforms, or sought to launder the militia’s image and recycle it as a legitimate actor. International law does not absolve those who participate in crimes through support, incitement, or facilitation, nor does history absolve those who gambled on the destruction of states through armed proxies.
Within this context, the failure of dialogue rounds, regional and international mediation efforts, and multiple negotiation platforms becomes understandable rather than surprising. Most of these tracks were built on a flawed assumption—that the militia still possessed political, social, or military legitimacy upon which a settlement could be based. The reality imposed by the thousandth day is that the militia has lost any standing among Sudanese people: no social acceptance, no political legitimacy, and no military weight upon which the future of the Sudanese state or society can be constructed. Ignoring this reality has trapped mediations in a vicious circle—negotiating a political shadow of an entity that has irreversibly collapsed morally and nationally.
Against this devastation, the resilience of the Sudanese state emerges in its most honest and elemental form. The resilience of the Sudanese Armed Forces, allied movements, mobilized volunteers, and fighters who took up the duty of defending the nation under extremely harsh conditions and at an enormous human and material cost. This resilience was not a display of power, but an act of survival—a determination to prevent state collapse and to protect what remains of the national fabric.
The victories achieved at several critical stages of the war marked turning points that shifted the balance, shattered the illusion of militia supremacy, dismantled the narrative of “rapid victory,” and restored confidence in the concept of a national army capable of recovery, adaptation, and regaining the initiative. These victories were not merely military, but psychological and moral—renewing societal confidence and affirming that the project of dismantling Sudan is not an inevitable fate.
If the thousandth day is a moment for accountability, it is also a moment for recognition. Recognition of every sacrifice, every act of endurance, everyone who remained in their homes, or was forcibly displaced, or lost a loved one, or endured hunger and fear without bargaining over their homeland. Salute to Sudan’s martyrs who gave their lives for the survival of the state, to the wounded who carry the scars of war in their bodies, and to all who supported this resilience through ideas, words, resources, or principled positions. Salute to honorable journalists, and to political and intellectual elites who stood with the citizen, the nation, and the army, refusing to occupy the gray zone between the state and militias of destruction.
Equally, amid this harsh reality, one cannot ignore Sudan’s other face—the face that war failed to break or brutalize, but instead rendered purer and more steadfast. Recognition is due to all who sheltered the displaced, opened their homes as safe havens for those fleeing death, shared scarce food with the hungry, organized communal meals in times of deprivation, or contributed however they could, quietly or publicly. Salute to those who transformed their homes, shops, schools, or mosques into shelters, field hospitals, and relief centers without expecting reward or acknowledgment. They were not merely part of the humanitarian response; they constituted the final moral line of defense for society, the fortress of dignity against disintegration, and living proof that Sudan—despite devastation—has not lost its soul or values. In times of war, the greatness of nations is not measured solely by the size of their armies, but by their ability to preserve their humanity when everything else collapses.
The thousandth day of the war in Sudan is not solely a station of mourning and sorrow; it is, without doubt, an opportunity to initiate a moment of historical awareness—an awareness that what occurred was not accidental, and what endured for a thousand days was not without intent. It is a decisive crossroads between two paths: either completing the struggle to restore the state on just national foundations, or leaving wounds open to reproduce violence in new forms. Nations and societies are not measured by the length of their wars, but by their ability to emerge from them more conscious and resilient. As Sudan passes through this heavy day, it does not need the world’s pity, but recognition of its right to a safe and stable state, of its people’s right to peace, and of the right of their sacrifices to culminate in a homeland not ruled by militias, not imposed upon by force, not managed by proxy, and not drained indefinitely.
