Sudan War Explained: RSF’s Ceasefire Deal and the Geopolitics Behind a Divided Nation
Sudan’s paramilitary group, the Rapid Support Forces, announced on Thursday, November 6, that it agreed to a United States and Arab-backed proposal for a humanitarian ceasefire and expressed readiness to begin talks aimed at ending the war. The RSF’s announcement came shortly after its fighters captured the famine-stricken city of El Fasher, tightening their control over much of western Darfur. The Sudanese Armed Forces have yet to issue an official response.
In a formal statement, the RSF said it was awaiting the immediate start of negotiations on the implementation of the truce and the basic principles of a political process. Earlier in the week, Sudan’s Military and Defense Council discussed the proposal but gave no final reply. Several influential generals reportedly expressed dissatisfaction with the plan. The United States, Saudi Arabia, the United Arab Emirates, and Egypt had jointly proposed a three-month humanitarian ceasefire in September, with the goal of reaching a permanent peace deal.
However, witnesses from El Fasher described grim scenes as RSF fighters allegedly killed and abducted civilians during and after their offensive, sparking international condemnation. RSF leadership has since pledged to protect civilians and investigate reported abuses. Yet, the fall of El Fasher marks a turning point in the war — effectively dividing Sudan into two zones of control: the east and north under the army, and the west under the RSF.
The RSF’s latest move, while framed as a humanitarian gesture, underscores a broader truth: Sudan’s war is no longer only a domestic power struggle. It has evolved into a regional contest of influence, resources, and ideology — one that threatens to reshape the political map of northeast Africa.
For the first half of the twentieth century, Sudan existed as the Anglo Egyptian Condominium, a joint protectorate ruled by Egypt and the United Kingdom. When both powers relinquished control in 1956, the Republic of Sudan emerged, but independence carried the seeds of internal conflict. The Arab Muslim north, relatively prosperous and urbanized, stood in contrast to the African Christian and animist south, which was poor and marginalized. This divide fueled two prolonged civil wars. The second, lasting from 1983 to 2005, claimed over two million lives and ended with the secession of South Sudan in 2011, leaving the north weakened and divided.
Omar al Bashir’s rise to power in 1989 reshaped the country’s trajectory. A military officer with Islamist leanings, Bashir built an authoritarian state anchored in ideology and force. Under his rule, dissent was crushed, minorities were persecuted, and the Darfur conflict erupted in 2003. To quell the rebellion, Bashir armed Arab militias known as the Janjaweed, who committed mass atrocities. The International Criminal Court later charged Bashir with genocide and crimes against humanity, but he remained in power for three decades through repression and manipulation.
In 2013, Bashir reorganized the Janjaweed into a formal paramilitary group — the Rapid Support Forces — led by Mohamed Hamdan Dagalo, known as Hemedti. Once a loyal enforcer, Hemedti grew wealthy by controlling gold mines and sending his fighters as mercenaries to Yemen on behalf of the Saudi-led coalition. Ironically, the force created to defend Bashir eventually turned against him.
By 2019, decades of economic collapse, corruption, and dictatorship had exhausted the people. Millions took to the streets demanding change. The army, under General Abdel Fattah al Burhan, and the RSF joined hands to depose Bashir. A transitional council combining military and civilian leaders was formed, with economist Abdalla Hamdok as prime minister. But power soon became a contest between the generals. In October 2021, Burhan and Hemedti staged another coup, sidelining civilians and dissolving the government. Hamdok’s brief reinstatement in 2022 failed, and Sudan once again descended into military rule.
The roots of the 2023 war lie in the failure of this transition. The Juba Framework Agreement required the RSF to merge with the national army. Burhan insisted on a two-year timeline; Hemedti wanted ten. The disagreement turned violent in April 2023, igniting a war that has since killed tens of thousands and displaced millions. Decades of structural inequality, ethnic rivalry, and foreign meddling made such an outcome inevitable.
Sudan’s geography has only intensified its turmoil. The country sits astride the River Nile, whose waters sustain eleven nations and nearly 280 million people. For Egypt, the Nile is existential — providing 90 percent of its water. Sudan’s control over key tributaries and dams gives it enormous leverage. As Ethiopia builds its Grand Renaissance Dam, tensions over the river’s flow have turned Sudan into a strategic pawn in a wider regional game.
Beneath Sudan’s soil lies another reason for its enduring instability: immense natural wealth. The country produces about ninety tonnes of gold annually, much of it smuggled through RSF networks to the Gulf, generating billions of dollars. It also controls vital oil pipelines linking South Sudan’s crude to Port Sudan, and its two hundred million acres of arable land make it a potential breadbasket for the Arab world. Iron ore, copper, manganese, and uranium deposits remain largely untapped. Whoever controls Sudan controls access to this vast wealth.
Foreign involvement has added layers of complexity to Sudan’s conflict, making a swift resolution unlikely. Regional and extra regional actors are believed to be pursuing their respective strategic and economic interests through indirect alignments. Observers note that Egypt appears to favor the Sudanese Armed Forces due to concerns over Nile security and its southern border, while the United Arab Emirates is often cited in connection with economic interests, particularly gold and maritime trade routes in the Red Sea. Saudi Arabia, meanwhile, continues to emphasize stability in the region to protect trade and investment initiatives. Reports also suggest that Iran has renewed its engagement with Sudan, reportedly supplying military equipment, while Russia’s longstanding interest in a Red Sea naval facility remains under discussion.
The human cost is staggering. More than twelve million people have fled their homes, while over twenty-four million depend on humanitarian aid. Cities like Khartoum, Omdurman, and Bahri lie in ruins. In Darfur, atrocities by the RSF and allied militias against the Masalit and other non-Arab groups have revived memories of past genocides. The United Nations calls it one of the worst humanitarian crises of this century, yet the world remains distracted.
Sudan’s war is no longer about who governs Khartoum; it is about who controls the future of Africa’s most strategic corridor — from the Nile Basin to the Red Sea and the mineral-rich Sahel. The fall of El Fasher and the RSF’s declared openness to negotiation may signal a new chapter, but whether it brings peace or merely another fragile truce remains uncertain.
For now, Sudan is a nation divided not only by geography but by vision. One side seeks survival through control, the other through dominance. Between them stand millions of ordinary Sudanese trapped in famine, displacement, and despair. The tragedy of Sudan is not only a failure of leadership but of the global conscience — a reminder that in the struggle for power and profit, humanity is the first casualty.
Disclaimer: The views and opinions expressed in this article are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the editorial stance, policies, or official position of The Spine Times.
The author is the founder of The Spine Times. His areas of interest include terrorism, erstwhile FATA, China, and global politics.
