Khartoum’s war: The case for ‘talks to talk’

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OPINION

By Edgar Tabaaro

Khartoum, once the political heart of Sudan, now stands as a haunting symbol of a state in violent unravelling.

What began as a confrontation between rival generals has steadily evolved into something more profound: the possible fragmentation of a nation whose political foundations were never fully reconciled with its diversity.

To understand Sudan’s crisis, one must resist the temptation of simplistic explanations. Many international commentaries still interpret African conflicts through narrow templates of tribe, religion or race. These categories are not entirely irrelevant, but they are insufficient to explain the scale and persistence of Sudan’s turmoil.

Sudan’s tragedy lies at the intersection of three powerful forces: identity contestation, entrenched militarism and the absence of durable constitutional rule.

Sudan is a civilisation of remarkable diversity. Its recorded history stretches back thousands of years along the Nile Valley, where Nubian and Kushite kingdoms once flourished. Over the centuries, Arabs, Nilotic communities, Afro-Asiatic peoples and numerous other groups became part of the Sudanese mosaic.

Ironically, the very word Sudan derives from the Arabic phrase Bilad al-Sudan — “the land of the black peoples.” Yet political power in modern Sudan came to be concentrated largely among Arab elites clustered along the Nile around Khartoum.

For communities in Darfur, Kordofan and other peripheral regions, this imbalance produced deep resentment and a sense of marginalisation that would later fuel rebellion.

But identity alone does not explain Sudan’s crisis. The deeper problem lies in how power has been exercised.

Since its independence in 1956, Sudan has been governed predominantly by military regimes. Civilian governments appeared briefly, only to be displaced by coups. Over time, the army and security apparatus became the ultimate arbiters of political authority.

Generals replaced institutions. This militarisation of politics created a system in which armed power, rather than constitutional legitimacy, determined who governed. Militias were cultivated, rival factions tolerated, and political disputes increasingly settled through force.

The current war between the Sudanese Armed Forces and the Rapid Support Forces merely exposes what had long existed beneath the surface: Sudan never truly possessed a unified national army.

Instead, it maintained competing military structures embedded in patronage networks and regional loyalties.

When negotiations over political transition collapsed in April 2023, these rival forces turned their weapons on each other in the streets of Khartoum.

The consequences have been devastating. The capital has been reduced to ruins, millions have been displaced, and the authority of the central government has been severely weakened.

Sudan now confronts the spectre of fragmentation.

When the centre of power collapses, centrifugal forces begin to accelerate. Regions with long-standing grievances may drift towards autonomous control under local armed actors, while external powers seek influence through proxies.

Efforts at peace talks have repeatedly faltered. On more than one occasion, the parties have failed even to appear at designated mediation venues. Such developments expose the limitations of conventional diplomacy conducted under the glare of international attention.

A paradigm shift is, therefore, imperative.

Before formal negotiations can succeed, the parties must first engage in what might be described as “talks to talk.”

This preliminary stage requires a respected and credible leader to undertake quiet shuttle diplomacy — away from cameras, press statements and the pressures of public posturing. Only in such discreet settings can adversaries begin to explore compromise without appearing weak before their core constituencies.

History demonstrates that durable settlements are rarely forged on conference podiums. They are painstakingly constructed in private rooms where trust, however fragile, can begin to emerge.

Sudan’s recovery, therefore, requires more than ceasefires or temporary political bargains between armed leaders.

What is needed is the reconstruction of a constitutional order capable of commanding national legitimacy.

An entrenched Bill of Rights guaranteeing equality before the law, freedom from inhuman treatment and the right to fair trial would provide a legal foundation upon which political reconciliation could gradually emerge.

Rights cannot depend on the goodwill of rulers. They must be enforceable against them.

Ultimately, Sudan’s war is not merely a struggle between generals. It is a contest over the very idea of the Sudanese state.

If militarism continues to dominate political life, Sudan risks further fragmentation. But if constitutionalism, citizenship and the rule of law eventually prevail, the country’s extraordinary civilisational heritage may yet provide the basis for renewal.

Khartoum today stands at a crossroads — between disintegration and rebirth.

The writer is a lawyer