When Sudanese strongman Omar al-Bashir was removed from power in 2019 after a 30-year reign, a ray of hope emerged for the millions of people on the streets who spent months risking their lives for a new political order. While very few thought democratic governance would flourish in Sudan quickly or easily, the feeling on the ground was one of possibility \u2014 after three decades of economic mismanagement, U.S. sanctions and diplomatic isolation from the West, Africa\u2019s third-largest country was on the cusp of a new era.<\/p>\n
At times, one got the sense that U.S. officials were even more optimistic about Sudan\u2019s future than the Sudanese themselves. The establishment of a 39-month transitional government in 2019, in which the military shared power with a civilian prime minister, was supposed to pave the way for free and fair elections. Washington and foreign capitals applauded the arrangement at the time as a crucial step away from al-Bashir\u2019s dictatorial rule. Hope was high; even when Sudan\u2019s two top military men, army chief Gen. Abdel-Fattah Burhan and Gen. Mohammed Hamdan Dagalo (as known as Hemedti), took power for themselves in 2021, the U.S., African Union and Persian Gulf states thought the democratic transition could be put back on track. In December, the military signed another agreement with civilians to create yet another two-year transitional period on the road to full elections.<\/p>\n
Inherent in each deal was the assumption that the generals would conclude that returning to the barracks was in their best interest. Unfortunately, this assumption proved to be wildly misplaced. What Burhan and Hemedti wanted most wasn\u2019t democracy, a prosperous economy or even stability for Sudan, but full power for themselves. If the weekslong outbreak of violence between the Sudanese army and Hemedti\u2019s Rapid Support Forces (RSF) is shocking to the foreign countries now evacuating their citizens from Sudan, it\u2019s partly because those same countries genuinely believed the hard men in military uniforms would willingly give up the perks, privileges and power they accumulated over decades.<\/p>\n
How could Sudan have degenerated so rapidly into civil war? And do foreign powers bear some responsibility for the conflict now tearing the country apart?<\/p>\n
To many, the answer is an unequivocal \u201cyes.\u201d The postmortems are rolling in. Jeffrey Feltman, a career U.S. diplomat who served as President Joe Biden\u2019s special envoy to the Horn of Africa, wrote in The Washington Post that the U.S. placed too much confidence in Burhan and Hemedti to actually follow through on what they agreed to. The power-sharing deals between the military and civilians were meant to ease both men into embracing, or at least respecting, the democratic framework. Instead, they saw this framework as a direct threat to their ambitions. Even when Sudanese Prime Minister Abdalla Hamdok was kicked out of power by the army last year, the U.S. continued to work with the generals, hoping to salvage whatever hope was left for a democratic outcome. \u201cWe considered ourselves pragmatic,\u201d Feltman wrote. \u201cHindsight suggests wishful thinking to be a more accurate description.\u201d<\/p>\n
Justin Lynch, a longtime Sudan analyst and co-author of the book \u201cSudan\u2019s Unfinished Democracy,\u201d has a similar assessment. \u201cIf there was a moment when hope for democracy was lost in Sudan, it was when the transitional constitution was agreed to,\u201d Lynch writes in an April 20 Foreign Policy article. The so-called civilian-led transition wasn\u2019t steered by civilians at all. The military called the shots, held most of the power and determined when \u2014 or even whether \u2014 democracy would be established. Clearly, the men with guns didn\u2019t have any intention of allowing such a transition to occur.<\/p>\n
Of course, hindsight is 20\/20. It\u2019s easy to scold U.S. officials who didn\u2019t get it right. But you don\u2019t have to be an expert on the Horn of Africa to recognize that the road to democracy in Sudan was a steep one \u2014 not because the Sudanese themselves didn\u2019t want it but because the powers that be didn\u2019t have an incentive to comply with such a scheme. If anything, Burhan and Hemedti, two war criminals who were directly involved in squashing the rebellion in Darfur nearly 20 years ago, may have believed that any political order short of a military dictatorship would have exposed them to a war crimes tribunal.<\/p>\n
We are now a long way from a transition of any kind. Whereas Sudan\u2019s previous rebellions and insurgencies included the center of political and military power waging war against the periphery, today\u2019s fighting can be characterized as the center fighting against itself.<\/p>\n
The violence is likely to get worse. More than 500 people have been killed in the clashes so far, a conservative estimate. Hemedti\u2019s RSF, up to 100,000 strong, is raiding homes, taking over hospitals, and establishing defensive positions in highly populated urban areas. Burhan\u2019s air force is launching strikes against those same positions to snuff out what he refers to as a treasonous act. While American, European, African and Saudi diplomats are trying to broker negotiations, neither man is thus far willing to talk directly. (Although the United Nations has said representatives have been dispatched, possibly to Saudi Arabia, to discuss cease-fire mechanisms.) Hemedti told the BBC last weekend that talks aren\u2019t possible as long as Burhan continues bombing the RSF. Burhan, meanwhile, seems to believe the RSF can be subdued through force.<\/p>\n
There\u2019s plenty we don\u2019t know in such a dynamic environment, including whether the U.N.\u2019s latest try at diplomacy will save Sudan from what could be a yearslong civil war. Yet there is one thing we do know: Having been burned not once but twice, the U.S. and its partners should leave the naivete at home.<\/p>\n
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ABOUT THE WRITER<\/p>\n
Daniel DePetris is a fellow at Defense Priorities and a foreign affairs columnist for the Chicago Tribune.<\/p>\n
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