Faisal Awad Hassan
2025 / 12 / 8
US President Donald Trump recently announced that he would coordinate with Saudi Arabia, the UAE, Egypt, and other unnamed actors to help end the war in Sudan, an initiative he said came at the request of the Saudi Crown Prince and other international leaders. Although the statement was brief and largely improvised, it generated a wave of optimism among many Sudanese observers, who interpreted it as a sign that the conflict might soon be resolved.
Such enthusiasm is understandable given the scale of devastation Sudan has endured. However, it also risks overlooking the long and troubled history of foreign involvement in Sudan, particularly by the United States and the three regional powers mentioned. Understanding this history is critical for setting realistic expectations and reaffirming the central role Sudanese actors must play in achieving lasting peace.
American policy toward Sudan has long been marked by a combination of confrontation and discreet cooperation. Relations soured after the 1989 Islamist coup and deteriorated further when Khartoum supported Iraq during its occupation of Kuwait and hosted Islamist movements. Washington responded with a series of punitive measures:
• placement on the US list of state sponsors of terrorism in 1993,
• sweeping economic sanctions in 1997,
• the destruction of the Al-Shifa pharmaceutical factory in 1998, and
• expanded isolation after 2001.
These measures severely damaged Sudan’s economy and public services transportation, agriculture, telecommunications, education, and integration into global financial systems while leaving ruling elites relatively untouched. The US-brokered Naivasha Agreement that facilitated South Sudan’s secession was shaped partly by the prospect of sanctions relief, as acknowledged by officials from both sides.
Despite public hostility, security cooperation between the US and Sudanese intelligence continued quietly. Statements by Sudanese officials including Salah Gosh and American diplomats confirmed ongoing collaboration in counterterrorism. Many leading Islamists acquired US citizenship´-or-residency, illustrating the gap between the rhetoric of confrontation and the reality of continued engagement. In practice, sanctions largely punished ordinary Sudanese while elites maintained channels of communication with Washington.
The three regional powers Trump referenced have also shaped Sudan’s trajectory, often according to their own priorities rather than Sudan’s stability.
Saudi Arabia cultivated close ties with the Bashir regime, securing access to fertile land and livestock resources at low cost. Its signing of the maritime border agreement with Egypt effectively legitimized Cairo’s claim over the Halayeb Triangle. Saudi financing of major dam projects displaced Sudanese communities, and Sudan’s costly involvement in the Yemen conflict served Saudi objectives while offering little benefit to Sudan. Against this backdrop, Riyadh’s sudden concern for Sudan warrants careful scrutiny.
The UAE pursued an assertive economic and political role, extending loans that deepened Sudan’s debt burden and acquiring strategic assets under opaque terms. Some agricultural investments introduced harmful practices, while allegations of Emirati support to various political and armed actors have raised questions about its impact on the current war. Abu Dhabi’s longstanding interest in Port Sudan and alternative ports reflects broader strategic ambitions, not simply concern for Sudan’s stability.
Egypt has consistently acted to secure its geopolitical interests. This includes asserting control over the Halayeb Triangle, expanding into northern Sudanese territory, and benefiting from agricultural and livestock resources at preferential rates. Egypt’s contemporary push to cultivate millions of acres of Sudanese land amid Sudan’s war is a reminder of how instability can facilitate deeper external influence.
Together, these patterns illustrate that foreign actors have often exacerbated Sudan’s vulnerabilities rather than mitigated them.
Relying on external powers especially those historically entangled in Sudan’s internal affairs poses significant risks. While diplomatic engagement is welcome, sustainable peace cannot be achieved through external pressure alone. Past attempts at externally driven settlements have struggled because they lacked genuine domestic ownership and often reinforced the influence of military´-or-political elites with-limit-ed legitimacy.
Peace efforts that depend excessively on external mediation risk sidelining Sudanese civil actors, weakening national sovereignty, and reproducing the very dynamics that fueled the conflict.
A Sudanese-Led Vision for Peace
A viable path forward requires rebuilding Sudanese political life on foundations that foreign actors cannot provide. Key priorities include:
• establishing an inclusive national political platform, independent of military factions and external sponsorship-;-
• cultivating new civic leadership capable of uniting diverse constituencies-;-
• implementing governance and institutional reforms that enhance transparency and accountability-;-
• developing a national reconstruction strategy centered on sovereignty, social cohesion, and equitable development.
External partners can offer support in mediation, humanitarian assistance, and technical expertise but cannot replace the need for domestic consensus and leadership.
President Trump’s remarks, while noteworthy, should not be mistaken for a decisive shift in Sudan’s fortunes. The historical record demonstrates that neither the United States nor its regional partners have placed Sudan’s long-term interests at the center of their policies. The country’s future will depend not on brief statements from abroad but on the capacity of Sudanese society to organize, reform, and articulate a sovereign path out of conflict.
Sudan’s peace cannot be imported-;- it must be built from within.
|
|
|
| Send Article
| Copy to WORD
| Copy
| Save
| Search
| Send your comment
| Add to Favorite |
|
||
| Print version |
Modern Discussion |
Email |
|
||