By Omaya Yousif Hassan Abu Fadya
The slogan “No to War” has long echoed across Sudan since the early days of conflict in April 2023, a phrase human in essence, yet lost its meaning and impact. Noble as it may sound, this slogan has neither saved a child nor spared a life since Sudan’s latest tragedy erupted. What renders it incomplete is its silence on the other half of the equation: the militia. War in Sudan is not merely a clash of armies, but a struggle between the project of a state and the project of chaos; between a national army and an unlawful militia; between sovereign institutions and regional interests seeking to dismantle Sudan and profit from its suffering.
Since 2013, the seeds of discord became visible with the rise of the Rapid Support Forces (RSF), a military formation born out of remnants of the Janjaweed, notorious for their record of atrocities in Darfur. Over time, this militia evolved into a political and economic power centre, armed and financed, operating beyond and at times against the state. In such a reality, how can the slogan “No to War” produce peace, when an armed faction continues to kill, terrorise, and plunder under the banner of authority or foreign patronage?
From the Roots of the Crisis to the Moment of Explosion
To understand Sudan’s current tragedy, one must look back to its historical and political roots. Since its independence in 1956, Sudan has suffered structural dysfunction and the absence of a unifying vision of justice and citizenship. Each military coup plunged the nation deeper into instability, until violence seemed like an accepted political instrument.
The most dangerous shift came with the birth of the RSF. Instead of maintaining a single, disciplined national army, a parallel force was created under the pretext of combating rebellion in Darfur. Gradually, the RSF expanded into an autonomous entity with its own finances and cross-institutional loyalties. From that point onward, the balance of power within Sudan began to fracture, and the state became threatened internally.
Since 2013, the militia’s behaviour has followed a consistent pattern: systematic violations of human rights, killings, looting, arbitrary detentions, and the imposition of control by force. With every abuse, the state retreated a step further, until the militia was formally legitimised as a political partner after the December 2019 revolution.
The 2019 Revolution: Between Hope and Betrayal
When Sudanese citizens took to the streets in December 2018, their dream was clear: freedom, peace, and justice. The revolution’s central slogan expressed a collective yearning for a modern civil state. Yet this dream was soon shattered. The turning point came in June 2019, when RSF forces brutally dispersed the peaceful sit-in at the General Command in Khartoum, leading to a massacre that shook the nation’s conscience. Hundreds were either killed or disappeared, as survivors and cameras documented scenes of unimaginable brutality.
From that moment, the chant, “The army to the barracks and the Janjaweed must be dissolved,” became not just a political demand but a foundational principle for rebuilding the state. Yet the civilian forces failed to enforce it. The country entered a fragile transition that ultimately collapsed into civil war in April 2023.
The War of April 2023: The Struggle Between the State and the Militia
When war broke out on April 15, 2023, it became clear that the RSF was not a national force in any sense. It transformed into a regional proxy, serving the agendas of external actors seeking leverage in Sudan. Rather than defending the homeland, the militia embarked on a campaign of destruction, targeting infrastructure, undermining central authority, and sowing division among communities.
When the Sudanese Armed Forces withdrew from regions such as West Darfur, Al-Jazirah, Sennar, and White Nile, it was an attempt, perhaps a reflection of the “No to War” principle, to spare civilians a devastating confrontation. But what followed was not peace; it was a humanitarian catastrophe. The militia unleashed systematic ethnic cleansing against defenseless civilians, killing, looting, raping, and displacing thousands in scenes reminiscent of Rwanda and Bosnia.
The atrocities committed in Darfur and El-Fasher surpassed imagination. International human-rights organisations condemned them as potential war crimes and crimes against humanity. Yet, some political voices at home and abroad still promote “peace talks” with the very perpetrators, pretending that the executioner can suddenly become a partner in peace.
“No to War and No to Militias”
Given these realities, the slogan “No to War” must be redefined. A mere ceasefire does not achieve true peace, but by restoring the state’s full sovereignty, disarming militias, and ensuring accountability for all who have committed crimes. Hence, the complete and honest slogan today must be: “No to War… and No to Militias.”
To uphold this principle is to reject the logic of force, the militarisation of politics, and the rewarding of criminals with positions of power. Sudan has tried that path repeatedly, from the Naivasha Agreement of 2005 to Abuja in 2008, to Juba in 2020, and every time it has produced the same result: legitimising rebellion and eroding citizenship.
A peace built on fragile bargains with warlords is a false peace, for it plants the seeds of the next conflict. How can a victim who has lost family, or whose daughter was raped, or whose village was burned, trust a state that pardons the killer and grants him a seat in government? Justice is not a luxury. It is the very condition of enduring peace.
Regional and International Dimensions
Sudan’s crisis cannot be separated from the volatile regional context of the Horn of Africa, a space exploited by states that wish Sudan and its people no good. For decades, this region has been a theatre of competition among regional and global powers, each pursuing its interests through local proxies. Tragically, the RSF has become one such instrument, backed with money and weapons by actors who view a weakened Sudan as an opportunity to extend influence.
Turning Sudan into an arena for proxy wars serves only the enemies of regional stability. A country of Sudan’s size, strategic location, and natural wealth must not remain a pawn in others’ games. Restoring national sovereignty and building a unified, professional army representing all Sudanese is therefore imperative.
The international community also bears responsibility. Its hesitant posture and failure to act decisively against the RSF’s crimes have emboldened the militia. Instead of imposing meaningful sanctions on its leaders and foreign sponsors, the world has settled for diplomatic statements, thereby prolonging the war and deepening civilian suffering.
Humanitarian and Social Consequences of the War
The conflict that erupted in April 2023 has produced an unprecedented humanitarian disaster in modern Sudanese history. According to United Nations estimates, more than 14.5 million people have been displaced internally or forced to flee across borders, a staggering figure that reflects the scale of devastation. Cities once vibrant with life now lie in ruins; fertile fields that fed the nation have turned into battlegrounds.
Beyond the physical destruction, the war has torn apart the social fabric. It has reignited ethnic and regional divisions, as identity was weaponised for mobilisation and hate propaganda. In Darfur especially, the militia revived the rhetoric of ethnic cleansing, targeting specific communities in a grim replay of the atrocities of the early 2000s.
Yet amidst the devastation, Sudanese society has displayed remarkable resilience. Grassroots resistance committees, volunteer networks, and youth groups have become the frontline of humanitarian response, filling the void left by a collapsing state and an indifferent international system. This collective solidarity offers a glimmer of hope that Sudan can, once again, rebuild itself from the ashes.
The Road to Lasting Peace and a Democratic State
Any credible project for peace in Sudan must begin with a clear principle: there is no place for militias in the future of the country. A modern state cannot function with multiple centres of armed power or competing loyalties. The national army must be rebuilt on professional, inclusive, and constitutional foundations, and all armed formations must be either integrated or dissolved under the law governing the regular forces without compromising justice.
Peace must also be comprehensive, not a power-sharing deal among elites. It begins with acknowledging victims’ suffering, compensating them, and holding perpetrators accountable. Transitional justice is not a slogan; it is the cornerstone of genuine national reconciliation.
Politically, Sudan must return to the democratic path—through free elections once security is restored, and through a permanent constitution that enshrines the separation of powers and prevents political interference in the military institution.
Conclusion
Sudan’s experience has proven that slogans alone cannot bring change. “No to War” without “No to Militias” is a half-truth, for war is merely the symptom of unchecked militias. Peace is not achieved by wishful thinking, but by political will, justice, accountability, and the restoration of the state’s monopoly on legitimate force.
To proclaim today, “No to War and No to Militias,” is to affirm faith in Sudan’s only viable path: the democratic state of law and institutions, not a state of individuals and allegiances. It is a call to end the bleeding, not through resignation to reality, but through confronting its roots.
The peace we seek is not the silence of fear, but the peace of justice; not the calm of submission, but the serenity of dignity and freedom—a peace in which no criminal is rewarded, and no victim is forgotten.
That is the only path toward a homeland worthy of our renewed hope.
Mr Omaya Yousif Hassan Abu Fadya is a Researcher and Strategic Expert on Horn of Africa Affairs. The views expressed in this article are solely attributable to the author, and Informant Chronicles is not answerable to anyone.
