Fighting Rages in Sudan, and Wad Madani Returns to SAF
No observer of the latest round of civil war in Sudan expected a quiet festive period. Millions of Sudanese civilians knew perfectly well that they would spend New Year's Eve on the run, in makeshift displacement camps or overcrowded homes away from the front lines. The comparatively lucky members of the Sudanese elite, able to take refuge in Nairobi, Cairo, one of the Gulf countries or further afield, saw 2024 change to 2025 in the knowledge of having lost family, friends, homes and much else back home in Sudan. In turn, what was anticipated duly happened. And then some-- fighting intensified on a number of fronts, fuelled by the dry season making roads accessible and by international sponsors continuing to flood the country with ever more sophisticated weaponry.
Boosted by the defection of Rapid Support Forces (RSF) commander Abu Aqla Keikel in October 2024, the Sudanese army advanced through Gezira, culminating in the seizure of the state capital of Wad Madani on 11 January after the paramilitaries withdrew. The RSF had controlled the strategic city for just over a year, having routed poorly-trained army conscripts in December 2023. Since then, Gezira-- the breadbasket of Sudan and home to Africa's largest irrigation project-- has been the scene of some of the grimmest atrocities of the war to date. Mass displacement and plunder have driven the collapse of agricultural production in the state, helping to plunge Sudan into spiralling famine.
With Wad Madani falling back to the Sudanese Armed Forces (SAF) alongside a series of other strategic gains in central Sudan, the RSF will now struggle to advance deeper into the country's eastern and southern territories, as had been speculated a year ago. Military attention is likely to turn towards the capital of Khartoum, where the paramilitaries have also ceded ground in Omdurman as well as Khartoum Bahri. Controlling the capital remains high on the agenda of both the RSF and the SAF as they seek to cast themselves as the sole legitimate government, and as the former begins establishing a rival administration. Following the loss of Wad Madani, a recording of Mohamed Hamdan Dagalo 'Hemedti' was released on the paramilitaries' Telegram account, where the former Janjaweed commander called on his forces to "reorganise their ranks" and reiterated that they would be prepared to fight for years to come.
Wad Madani, much like Sinjah in Sennar state in November 2024, fell without significant resistance from the paramilitaries, but the weeks prior saw relentless SAF bombardments of RSF-held areas across Gezira. Over several months, human rights violations by both principal belligerents have been reported by civilians in central Sudan, including the persecution and killing of individuals accused of collaboration. In the days since Wad Madani fell, videos and reports of SAF soldiers targeting civilians in El Hasaheisa and Um El Gura to the city's east have emerged. Keikel's defection last year, in particular, precipitated a wave of abuse, including weaponised sexual violence, by the RSF directed at his ethnic group to deter further desertions and resistance. In considerable part due to the lack of pressure and attention on the belligerents, targeting civilians remains a key military strategy from both the RSF and SAF.
Elsewhere, military developments have not been as dynamic, with the major battlegrounds of El Fasher and Khartoum seeing relatively static front lines. Nonetheless, there has been significant ground fighting and aerial bombardments in both, with El Fasher and its suburbs particularly affected. For months, the North Darfur capital has experienced a significant RSF presence gradually encroaching on the enclaves held by SAF and its allies, driving a mass exodus of civilians from the city that once served as a displacement hub. Even the nearby Zamzam IDP camp, where famine was first officially declared in August 2024 by the Integrated Food Security Phase Classification initiative, has faced repeated shelling. Elsewhere in Darfur, the army's sustained aerial bombardments in Nyala, particularly against the city's airport used by the UAE and others to supply the RSF with weapons, continue to displace civilians.
Currently, Zaghawa and Masalit fighters under the auspices of Minni Minawi and others, former enemies of the military regime in Khartoum, have massed their forces on the Chadian border with Sudan. The immediate military objective is clear-- to continue to attack the RSF from North Darfur on behalf of the SAF and thus relieve pressure on the garrisons in El Fasher. The secondary purpose, for now, aligned with the civil war objective-- pursue the long-held ambition to reduce the so-called 'Arab,' especially Rizeigat, influence from parts of North Darfur.
Once again, the months of renewed fighting would not have been possible without the external military and material support of foreign powers. The weapons deliveries to the RSF and SAF are well-documented from a host of Gulf and Middle Eastern states, as well as Russia, but none so far have been publicly willing to pressure their allies over the mass and numerous human rights violations.
What is equally, perhaps even more alarming from a mid- and long-term perspective, is the continuing fragmenting of the conflict. Both the RSF and SAF are essentially coalitions of armed groups without standardised command-and-control, containing forces that often pursue competing goals. The SAF draws many of its numbers from conscripts arranged under the Islamist factions led by former Foreign Minister Ali Karti and others, as well as militias from eastern Sudan trained by Eritrea. In Darfur, meanwhile, centuries of layered grievances and complex relationships between tribes such as the Zahgawa and Masalit continue to play out against the transnational Sahelian tribes, such as the Rizeigat, that comprise the RSF.
There are those who have been warning about a 'Somalisation' of the conflict in Sudan for some time, a splintering of the warring sides into warlord fiefdoms throughout the country. Signs of this-- with the collapse of limited formal administrations in large swathes of the country-- are clearly visible. And already, the humanitarian costs to the civilian population have been beyond immense, with Sudan hosting the world's largest humanitarian and displacement crises. But the further fragmentation of the destructive conflict, as well as the fluid frontlines, are exposing civilians to fresh atrocities and looting at every iteration. The total collapse of the Sudanese state and the 'Somalisation' of the country would have near-unimaginable consequences, not only for Sudanese but for the region at large.
By the Horn Edition Team
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Apathy pervades the Djiboutian population. A week tomorrow, on April 10, the country will head to the polls, with President Ismaïl Omar Guelleh seeking a 6th— essentially uncontested — term in office. With his coronation inevitable, his family's dynastic rule over this rentier city-state will be extended once more. But in a region wracked by armed conflict and geopolitical contestation, the ageing Guelleh's capacity to manage the familial, ethnic, and regional fractures within and without grows ever more complicated. And Djibouti's apparent stability is no product of institutional strength, but rather an increasingly fractious balance of external rents and coercive control-- underpinned by geopolitical relevance.
In early 1987, the commander of the Sudanese People's Liberation Army/Movement (SPLA/M), John Garang, is reported to have issued a radio order, instructing his field officers to gather children to be dispatched to Ethiopia for military training. Garang's command conveyed the rebels' institutionalisation of a well-established practice of child soldiering; a dynamic that has been reproduced by virtually every major armed actor in Sudan-- and later South Sudan-- since independence. Today, as war has continued to ravage and metastasise across Sudan, few communities and children have been left untouched by the ruinous violence.
The history of the contemporary Horn of Africa is littered with abandoned and abrogated peace agreements-- as well as a handful of successes. A petri dish (or Pandora's box) of issues related to sovereignty, inter- and intra-state conflict, and the nature of the state itself, the region has also been a laboratory for numerous forms of peacemaking and dealmaking. Yet in such a fractured regional order, 'peace' and 'conflict' should not be considered binaries, but rather as part of a sliding scale, where civilians may be targeted during the active fighting in South Sudan or suffer as part of a 'negative peace' in Tigray. Today, with predatory peace in South Sudan, Sudan, and perhaps now Tigray, having given way to renewed violence on a broad scale, what is the nature and future of peacemaking in the Horn of Africa?
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.
At the end of February, Ethiopian PM Abiy Ahmed departed on a rather unusual visit to Baku, Azerbaijan. Slated as a meeting between two emerging powers, a focus on trade and investment frameworks was particularly emphasised by Foreign Minister Gedion Timotheos. More importantly, of course, was the signing of a comprehensive defence agreement by the two countries on 27 February. Spanning drone technology, armoured vehicles, artillery shell production, and air defence, the new agreement builds upon a framework from November 2025, which also included reference to refurbishing T-72 tanks, electronic warfare, and military-industrial manufacturing. Though war has not yet returned to Tigray as many feared, Abiy's vision of a militarised domestic —and regional —posture no doubt requires more hardware.
Earlier this month, dozens of heads of state and government gathered in Addis Ababa, Ethiopia, for the 39th Ordinary Session of the Assembly of the African Union (AU). The theme of this summit prioritised water security and sanitation, discussing various ways to address these issues amid the unrelenting climate crisis. A worthy subject, no doubt, but the geopolitical backdrop of the summit remains unremittingly grim. Taking place in Addis —amid war looking ever more likely in Tigray —the gathering of leaders again served to uncomfortably emphasise the decline of the AU.
The Rapid Support Forces (RSF) in Sudan, the Puntland Maritime Police Force in Somalia, or the Liyu Police in Ethiopia are far from isolated curiosities or aberrations of the modern security state in the Horn of Africa. Quite the opposite; each example of these 'paramilitary groups' are part of a longer tale, a reflection of the persistent outsourcing and politicisation of violence in the region. With no state historically able to exercise a monopoly of force, paramilitaries and parallel security structures have routinely sprung from the elite to mediate their authority, 'coup-proof' their regimes, and to deliberately fragment coercive power. But historical variation within and between the litany of paramilitary forces in the Horn is vast, spanning a wide breadth of political aims and ambitions, territories, armaments, and compositions. And yet, the results are often decidedly mixed, as perhaps best evidenced by the destruction of Sudan's ongoing war.
One merely has to drive a few miles down the sweltering tarmac road past the town of Isiolo to encounter the Kenyan army. Small Kenyan Defence Forces (KDF) checkpoints and outposts litter these roads and others, playing several roles in Kenya's arid and semi-arid lands (ASALs) regions. Principal among them is, of course, interdicting the drips and drabs of Al-Shabaab militants infiltrating in small numbers from Somalia. But another prevalent role of past years – particularly since the 2020-2023 drought and ensuing intercommunal violence—has been the army's role in subduing the occurrence of pastoralist-based climate-accentuated conflict.
Dead men do not just walk in Juba — they can now be appointed to election task forces. In one of the most bizarre stories in recent memory, Salva Kiir's government selected Steward Sorobo Budia last week for a new task force comprised of signatories to South Sudan's long-collapsed 2018 peace agreement. Three days later, the president's office was forced to admit that Hon. Sorobo—a former politician from a negligible party —had died 6 years prior, making him unable to serve on the farcical "Leadership Body of the Parties Signatory to the R-ARCSS for Dialogue on Election-Related Matters."