Between the “Sick Lion” and the “Impatient One”: A Satirical Reading of the American Initiative to End Sudan’s War

By Al-Sadiq Al-Badiri

In a scene reminiscent of a political fantasy series, Washington has launched yet another initiative to end the war in Sudan, while the United Arab Emirates waves the banner of “humanitarian legitimacy.”

The more pressing question, however, is whether this time will be any different, or whether the world is witnessing another version of the “sick lion” game that has repeatedly failed in Libya and Yemen, producing “temporary” agreements that collapse before the ink on newspaper headlines has even dried.

International mediators have described the latest American proposal to halt the war in Sudan as the “last opportunity,” while Sudanese observers have mockingly dubbed it “the chance for a slow death,” recalling George Orwell’s famous dictum: “In a time of deceit, telling the truth is a revolutionary act.” Yet Washington, true to form in its handling of Middle Eastern affairs, continues to offer quick fixes to problems decades in the making.

Diplomatic sources revealed that the American proposal calls for a 60-day ceasefire, the formation of a technocratic government, and the establishment of a mechanism to monitor and halt the flow of weapons.

The problem, however, is that the weapons reaching both sides of the conflict are hardly a secret. They are reportedly transported through internationally recognized airports, as though the world had suddenly discovered that Sudan possesses “the largest arms depot on Earth.”

The UAE, a key regional actor, appears to be skillfully playing the role of the counterweight. While Abu Dhabi publicly supports humanitarian efforts, United Nations reports continue to document the movement of weapons through airports linked to the Emirates and onward to the warring factions. It is almost as if the UAE subscribes to a “time-bomb doctrine” in its foreign policy: erecting red traffic lights while simultaneously sounding the whistle to begin the race.

Analysts compare the current American proposal with the 2023 Jeddah Agreement, which was once hailed as a historic breakthrough but ultimately became little more than a piece of paper—one unworthy even of wrapping sweets.

They also recall Libya’s 2020 redeployment agreement, which included plans for the withdrawal of mercenaries but has since emerged from oblivion only to demonstrate that “profiting from peace” has become a global profession.

In the same context, Reuters reports suggest that the new American initiative revives the concept of “safe zones,” an idea that failed in both Yemen and Afghanistan. It is as though Washington continues to experiment on countries burdened with intractable crises. As one Sudanese activist sarcastically remarked, “We do not want a safe zone; we want a safe solution to our problem.”

While the UAE insists that it is “part of the solution,” observers note that only months ago Abu Dhabi rejected attempts to assign responsibility for prolonging the conflict, arguing instead that the solution must be “Sudanese-led.” The obvious question, however, remains: how can the solution be Sudanese when the weapons are Emirati?

Past international experiences suggest that peace initiatives proposed by major powers often resemble outdated medical prescriptions, recycled with only minor changes to the packaging.

In Sudan, the American initiative appears to reproduce the mistakes made in Libya and Yemen: an insistence on forming a consensus government without addressing the roots of the conflict, coupled with reliance on a fragile ceasefire likely to collapse at the first serious violation.

Recent statements by U.S. envoy Tom Perriello, quoted by the Associated Press, further reflect Washington’s determination that “the time has come to end the war,” as though Sudanese citizens had not been waiting for such an obvious revelation. A Sudanese activist responded with biting irony: “We have been fighting for two years, and suddenly they discovered that we are suffering.”

In the arena of international politics, Sudan remains a showcase of diplomatic failure, where major powers compete to introduce peace initiatives that falter before they are even born.

The fundamental question therefore persists: is this time truly different, or are we about to watch yet another installment in the long-running series of Middle Eastern agreements—productions that begin with grand promises and end in scenes of devastation?