Sudan's Islamists Return to the Sanctions List
Once on the US-designated terrorist sanctions list, it is unsurprisingly rather difficult to come off it. And with the US designating the 'Sudanese Muslim Brotherhood' as terrorists, elements of Khartoum's military government may now have the dubious honour of being on it twice. First time out in 1993, Khartoum was deemed a US State Sponsor of Terror in the wake of a raft of jihadist plots linked to the Islamist authorities in Sudan. Nearly three decades later, and only after Sudan's partial ascension to the Abraham Accords, the title and punishing sanctions were lifted for the civilian-military transitional government. Today, though the warring Sudan is no longer home to an Osama bin Laden or Carlos the Jackal, a US labelling of 'terrorist' has returned to Khartoum.
On Monday, a press statement from US Secretary of State Marco Rubio announced the sanctions against the 'Sudanese Muslim Brotherhood', labelling it a "specifically designated global terrorist" that shall be designated a "foreign terrorist organisation." In Washington's latest haphazard salvo against the transnational and myriad representations of the Muslim Brotherhood, Rubio alleged that its Sudanese variant "uses unrestrained violence against civilians, its fighters, many receiving training and other support from Iran's Islamic Revolutionary Guard Corps, have conducted mass executions of civilians." Now, if those in the US do seek to support the SIM or the sanctioned Islamist paramilitaries, they could now be federally prosecuted. But these movements have a wealth of resources stored in Sudan and across the Middle East, and the label is unlikely to make a substantial dent in their capacities.
Though no group in Sudan goes by the name 'Sudanese Muslim Brotherhood,' the State Department asserted in an accompanying document that the group is "composed of the Sudanese Islamic Movement (SIM) and its armed wing, the al-Baraa Bin Malik Brigade." This is a complex characterisation, however, and the broader ties and nature of Sudanese Islamism and its relationship to both the militarised state and army are fraught. Just within that one line, experts continue to debate the nature of the ties between SIM-- led by former infamous Foreign Minister Ali Karti-- and the various army-affiliated Islamist auxiliaries, with the al-Baraa Brigade one prominent force among many. But accusations of "mass executions" are well-founded, with these paramilitary forces having established a brutal reputation since the calamitous war erupted in April 2023. Yet coming amidst the conflagration in the Middle East, the reference to Tehran--which has played a broadly marginal role in Sudan's internationalised civil war-- likely speaks to persistent Emirati and Israeli lobbying in Washington.
For many, those within SIM and its affiliated Islamist groupings have long represented Sudan's deep state, such is their-- as well as the military's-- control over key economic organs and institutions. There is similarly no doubt that the Muslim Brotherhood has deep roots in Sudan, dating back to the 1940s, when its ideology was first disseminated at select universities. But any history of Sudanese political Islamism today must be centred on Hassan al-Turabi, the engineer of the 1989 coup alongside Omar al-Bashir, who pioneered the concept of 'African Islamism.' In the 1990s, Al-Turabi, who had vacillated between detention and power over the preceding decades, sought to 'capture' the state, with descendants and members of the ruling National Islamic Front —later to become the now-banned National Congress Party (NCP)—remaining highly influential within the militarised organs of the Sudanese state.
At the same time, another critical dynamic was established through the development of parallel security structures, most prominently the Popular Defence Forces (PDF), as a means to 'coup-proof' the regime, whilst deployed to grimly repress insurgencies in western and southern Sudan. But following the removal of al-Turabi from the regime in 1999 and the partial abandonment of Islamist social policy, several rifts emerged within Sudan's Islamist forces — divisions that persist today. Among others, al-Turabi's Muslim Brotherhood-aligned Popular Congress Party sought to challenge al-Bashir's NCP, which subsequently pivoted towards an oil-based illiberal military regime. Darfuri Islamist movements, too, that subscribed to al-Turabi's broad-reaching Islamist vision, similarly split with the government. But others, like Ali Osman Taha, remained within the regime, accruing vast wealth and influence, with their Islamist-weighted clientelist networks still deeply embedded within the Sudanese state. As such, the US designation of SIM and discussions of the Sudanese Muslim Brotherhood arguably raise more questions than they answer.
Though unpopular amongst the Sudanese population-- best evidenced by the slogans of the 2018-2019 revolution, Islamist forces in Sudan have steadily returned to the fore since the coup of 2021. Whilst some Islamist leaders either fled or were imprisoned in the wake of the popular uprising, many faded into the shadows, with their strategic investments enduring. And in 2021, when Sudanese Armed Forces (SAF) Commander Abdel Fattah al-Burhan, then allied with Mohamed Dagalo 'Hemedi', cast out the civilian elements of the government, the Islamists have enjoyed a resurgence of power and influence. Even those once imprisoned at Kober Prison have returned to play senior behind-the-scenes roles for the embattled army.
The war has also accelerated the quiet remobilisation of the vast patronage networks constructed under al-Bashir, as former National Congress Party cadres, businessmen, and security officials have reactivated dormant financial and logistical channels to sustain the army's war effort, and their return to power. But the army and its auxiliaries remain a fractious coalition of Islamist groupings, Darfuri movements such as the Justice and Equality Movement, Riverain nationalists, and Eritrean-rallied eastern Sudanese forces. Al-Burhan is not a beloved figure, either, within elements of the Islamist movements, related to his positive signalling towards Israel as well as perceived diminishing of Islamist paramilitaries 'wins.' Though divided, there are a number of shared objectives among these Islamist factions: opposing a political settlement with the RSF, restoring authoritarian power, and preventing the formal partition of Sudan.
Alongside the SIM, one Islamist auxiliary force has been singled out in particular by Washington-- the best-known, the al-Baraa Bin Malik Brigade. Part of the broader 'Shadow Brigades', themselves a legacy of the former regime's PDF, these forces have helped spearhead the army's retaking of swathes of central Sudan and Khartoum in the past two years. In the early months of the war, the much-depreciated Sudanese army heavily relied on these paramilitary groups, with the Islamists paramount in rallying and arming thousands of young men in Kassala and Gedarif. Moreover, the international connections of figures such as Ali Karti to Doha and Ankara have proven central in facilitating arms flows that have helped reverse the Rapid Support Forces' (RSF) early advances.
There is little doubt, though, that the Al-Baraa Brigade-- which boasts an estimated 20,000+ fighters-- operates brutally, and likely deserves its terrorist designation. Routinely referring to its men as 'mujahideen' across its widely disseminated social media, the brigade has been implicated in a number of massacres and instances of summary executions of civilians in Khartoum, Wad Maddani, and other locations. Moreover, the brigade has been charged with the desecration of religious sites such as the Sheikh Qarib Allah Mosque in Omdurman, as it has continued to expand its operational capacities across commerce and education. On 7 March, Yasser al-Atta, SAF assistant commander-in-chief and another well-known Islamist, again asserted the military's intention to integrate various paramilitaries into the formal army. This is posturing, however, with the Sudanese army having a dubious history of integrating forces successfully — the current war being a case in point — as well as a long-running Islamist penetration problem. The Islamists have no doubt returned to the 'deep state' of Sudan, if they ever truly left.
However, Cairo and Riyadh — the army's primary foreign patrons— have made their displeasure at the resurgent Islamist influence known. In fact, the brigade commander, Al-Misbah Abuzaid, has been detained in both Saudi Arabia and Egypt, both of which designate the Brotherhood domestically as a terrorist organisation. Their support for the SAF speaks to the region's profoundly selective relationship with political Islamism.
Meanwhile, the reaction to the American designation has been mixed in Sudan, with regime supporters alleging that it is the latest in a series of Emirati-weighted decisions by Washington against the army's interests. Others have queried whether such a designation could complicate humanitarian aid delivery if the label is extended to government or military institutions, with it currently unclear what might be deemed an 'asset' of the Sudanese Muslim Brotherhood.
Unsurprisingly, the RSF has crowed over the designation, with the paramilitary commander Mohamed Dagalo Hemedti describing it as "a victory for the will of the Sudanese people." The paramilitaries have long sought to cast themselves as a secular body vying with Islamist extremists in the army with the intention of restoring democracy to Sudan. But Hemedti's vindication is dubious, with his own democratic credentials remaining highly questionable. The Sudanese government, too, is now lobbying Washington to apply a similar label of terrorism to the RSF, citing its massacres of tens of thousands of Darfuri civilians. Finally, Sudan's beleaguered preeminent civilian opposition welcomed the designation, with former Prime Minister Abdalla Hamdok's Sumoud alliance suggesting it would sever external funding and weapons fuelling the war.
Above all, though, the US sanctions and terrorism delegations are another example of the continued ad hoc nature of American foreign policy towards the Sudanese civil war. It is hard to look on the Sudanese Islamists or their paramilitaries with any sympathy — but the designation, at least for some, appears rather short-termist. With the war engulfing the Middle East, America's allies in Doha, Riyadh, and Abu Dhabi are now openly questioning how closely to attach themselves to Washington. In the end, Washington may have succeeded in labelling one faction of Sudan's fractured war, but it has done little to clarify the conflict that grows more entangled and complex by the day.
The Horn Edition Team
