RSF paramilitary-led coalition forms parallel government in war-torn Sudan
The group, which calls itself the Leadership Council of the Sudan Founding Alliance (TASIS), said RSF leader Mohamed Hamdan 'Hemedti' Dagalo will chair the 15-member presidential council of the government, which includes regional governors.
Sudanese politician Mohammed Hassan Osman al-Ta'ishi will serve as prime minister, TASIS said.
'On the occasion of this historic achievement, the leadership council extends its greetings and congratulations to the Sudanese people who have endured the flames of devastating wars for decades,' the coalition said in a statement.
'It also renews TASIS's commitment to building an inclusive homeland, and a new secular, democratic, decentralized, and voluntarily unified Sudan, founded on the principles of freedom, justice and equality.'
The new self-proclaimed government could deepen divisions and lead to competing institutions as the war rages on between the RSF and the Sudanese Armed Forces (SAF).
In May, the Sudanese army said it had completely driven the RSF out of the capital, Khartoum.
The fighting since April 2023 has killed tens of thousands and displaced nearly 13 million people, according to United Nations estimates, resulting in one of the worst humanitarian crises in the world.
In recent months, the violence has been intensifying in the western region of Darfur, where the RSF has been besieging the city of el-Fasher, compounding hunger in the area.
Rights groups have accused both the RSF and SAF of rights abuses. Earlier this year, Amnesty International said RSF fighters were inflicting 'widespread sexual violence' on women and girls to 'assert control and displace communities across the country'.
Earlier this year, the US imposed sanctions on Hemedti, accusing the RSF of committing 'serious human rights abuses' under his leadership, including executing civilians and blocking humanitarian aid.
Sudan has seen growing instability since longtime President Omar al-Bashir was removed from power in 2019 after months of antigovernment protests.
In October 2021, the Sudanese military staged a coup against the civilian government of Prime Minister Abdalla Hamdok, leading to his resignation in early 2022.
Sudan's army chief, Abdel Fattah al-Burhan and Hemedti had shared power after the coup, but then began fighting for control of the state and its resources in April 2023.
Although the rivalry between al-Burhan and Hemedti does not appear to be ideological, numerous attempts to reach a peaceful resolution to the crisis have failed.
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Al Jazeera
15 hours ago
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Why Sudan's RSF chose this parallel government ahead of peace talks
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Regardless, the RSF has long been wary of being dismissed as a mere 'armed group' in ceasefire negotiations and left out of the circles of power and influence in a post-war Sudan due to a lack of international legitimacy. By forming its own government, the Tasis Alliance aims to garner recognition from some friendly states and boost its bargaining position in future negotiations, said Kholood Khair, an expert on Sudan and the founder of the Confluence Advisory think-tank. 'What's interesting is that there has been so little disclosed about these new talks, yet it has started a fury across Sudan and catalysed the formation of these two governments,' Khair told Al Jazeera. She added that the army adopted a similar ploy in May when it appointed Kamel Idris as prime minister in Port Sudan, a strategic city on the Red Sea Coast. Idris recently appointed five new ministers to round out his new government, just a day after Tasis announced its parallel administration. 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'Yet [this government] makes de facto partition all the more likely, even if that is not the strategic intent.' Khair added that the creation of a second government further incentivises armed groups to accumulate power in hopes of scoring a post in one of the two administrations. 'This [new government] really catalyses the proliferation of different armed groups,' she said. 'More armed groups will mobilise … to win a position [in one of the two governments] during wartime.' 'This is a reality that really entrenches war dynamics.'
Al Jazeera
19 hours ago
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While generally acknowledging the constitutional right of protest, it has sought to paint the largely peaceful and sustained Generation Z demonstrations and agitation of the past 16 months, which have questioned its rule and policies, as a threat to public order and safety and to delegitimise the street as an avenue for addressing public issues. 'What is going on in these streets, people think is fashionable,' Ruto declared a month ago. 'They take selfies and post on social media. But I want to tell you, if we continue this way, … we will not have a country.' The killing and abductions of protesters as well as the move to charge them with 'terrorism' offences, borrowing a leaf from Western governments that have similarly criminalised pro-Palestinian and antigenocide sentiments, are clear examples of the state's preferred response. At the same time, there have been repeated calls for the protesters to enter into talks with the regime and, more recently, for an 'intergenerational national conclave' to address their concerns. But framing protests as a dangerous response to political dissatisfaction is flawed. Demonstrations are an expression of democracy, not the result of its failures. The Generation Z movement has shown that transparency, mutual aid and political consciousness can thrive outside formal institutions. Activists have made the streets and online forums sites of grievance, rigorous debate, civic education, and policy engagement. They have raised funds, provided medical and legal aid, and supported bereaved families, all without help from the state or international donors. In doing so, they have reminded the country that citizenship is not just about casting ballots every five years. It is about showing up – together, creatively and courageously – to shape the future. The Generation Z movement is in many respects a reincarnation of the reform movement of the 1990s when Kenyans waged a decadelong street-based struggle against the brutal dictatorship of President Daniel arap Moi. Today's defiant chants of 'Ruto must go' and 'Wantam' – the demand that Ruto be denied a second term in the 2027 election – echo the rallying cries from 30 years ago: 'Moi must go' and 'Yote yawezekana bila Moi (All is possible without Moi).' Centring the struggle on Moi was a potent political strategy. It united a broad coalition, drew international attention and forced critical concessions – from the reintroduction of multiparty politics and term limits to the expansion of civil liberties and, crucially, the rights of assembly and expression. By the time Moi left office at the end of 2002, Kenya was arguably at its freest, its spirit immortalised in the Gidi Gidi Maji Maji hit I Am Unbwogable! (I Am Unshakable and Indomitable!)' But that moment of triumph also masked a deeper danger: the illusion that removing a leader was the same as transforming the system. Moi's successor, Mwai Kibaki, hailed then as a reformist and gentleman of Kenyan politics, quickly set about reversing hard-won gains. His government blocked (then tried to subvert) constitutional reform, raided newsrooms and eventually presided over a stolen election that brought Kenya to the brink of civil war. One of his closest ministers, the late John Michuki, had in 2003 revealed the true mindset of the political class: Constitutional change to devolve the power of the presidency, he claimed, was necessary only so 'one of our own could share power with Moi'. Once Moi was gone, he averred, there was no longer need for it. Due to the obstruction from the political class, it took Kenyans close to a decade after Moi's departure to finally promulgate a new constitution. Generation Z must avoid the trap of the transition of the 2000s. Power, in the Kenyan political imagination, has often been the prize, not the problem. But real change requires more than a reshuffling of names atop the state. It demands a refusal to treat state power as the destination and a commitment to reshaping the terrain on which that power operates. And this is where the youth should beware the machinations of a political class that is more interested in power than in change. Today's calls for national talks and intergenerational conclaves emanating from this class should be treated with suspicion. Kenyans have seen this play out before. From the 1997 Inter-Parties Parliamentary Group talks and the negotiations brokered by former UN Secretary-General Kofi Annan after the 2007-2008 postelection violence to the infamous 'handshake' between President Uhuru Kenyatta and his rival Raila Odinga and the failed Building Bridges Initiative, each of these elite pacts was presented as a way to translate popular anger into meaningful reform. 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Al Jazeera
21 hours ago
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The Nile cannot be governed by colonial-era treaties
In a couple of weeks, the Grand Ethiopian Renaissance Dam (GERD), the biggest hydroelectric dam on the African continent, will be inaugurated. The construction of this dam has taken more than a decade and has cost nearly $5bn. The government and people of Ethiopia mobilised the funds for this national project from their meagre internal resources. No international financing was made available for this project. While the construction of the dam has received some international media attention, the media coverage has not made clear the Ethiopian perspective. This is a modest attempt to rectify that problem. The GERD is constructed on the Blue Nile, which Ethiopians call Abay. Abay means 'big' or 'major' in several Ethiopian languages. Abay is one of the main tributaries of the Nile River. Although many associate the Nile almost exclusively with Egypt, the river traverses 10 other African countries. Among these countries, Ethiopia holds a unique position because 86 percent of the Nile water that reaches Egypt originates from the Ethiopian highlands. Abay is the biggest river in Ethiopia with a huge potential to boost overall socioeconomic transformation and development. It has been a long-held aspiration of Ethiopians to utilise this resource. The GERD is a national development project that fulfils this dream. Despite its huge labour force and economic potential, Ethiopia has yet to make headway in its endeavour to industrialise. One critical factor that has held back this effort has been Ethiopia's lack of energy. According to the latest figures, barely 55 percent of Ethiopians have access to electricity. There is a huge demand and need for electricity in Ethiopia. Hence, the GERD is seen as our national ticket out of darkness and poverty. Necessity dictates that Ethiopia use this major resource as an instrument to spur growth and prosperity for the benefit of its 130-million-strong population, which is expected to reach 200 million by 2050. The GERD is expected to generate about 5,150 megawatts of electricity and produce an annual energy output of 15,760 gigawatt hours. This will double Ethiopia's energy output, which will not only light our homes but also power industries and cities and transform our economy. The GERD would also make it possible to increase our energy exports to neighbouring countries, thereby strengthening regional integration and interconnectedness. The lower riparian states of the Nile would also derive immense benefit from the GERD because it would prevent flooding, sedimentation and water loss through evaporation. The very purpose of the GERD, which is generating electricity, requires that the water flows to lower riparian countries after hitting the enormous turbines that generate the electricity. The dam does not block or stop the river from flowing. Doing so would make electricity generation impossible and defeat the very purpose for which the dam was built. So, you might ask, why are some lower riparian countries complaining about the construction of the dam? The reason for their objections emanates not from rational fear or legitimate concern. The objections are the result of an attitude shaped by a colonial-era water-sharing agreement concluded between Britain and Egypt in 1929 and its derivative agreement sealed in 1959 between Egypt and Sudan. Ethiopia was not a party to any of these treaties. However, some Egyptians contend that the water-sharing formula enshrined in the colonial-era agreement, which excludes the remaining nine African nations from having any share of the Nile, is still valid and should be adhered to by all Nile riparian countries. From an Ethiopian point of view, this anachronistic argument, often presented as 'historic rights over the Nile' is unacceptable. While Britain is entitled to enter into any agreements regarding the River Thames, it does not have the right to dispose of the waters of the Nile or the Abay River. As we all recall, the late Egyptian President Gamal Abdel Nasser rejected Britain's claims over the Suez Canal. For much stronger reasons, Ethiopian leaders have consistently rejected arguments based on colonial arrangements in which Ethiopia did not have a say. The Ethiopian view is that the Nile is a shared natural resource. It should be used in a cooperative framework that would be beneficial for all riparian countries. The developmental aspirations and dreams of all nations are equally legitimate. The needs of some should not be prioritised over the needs of others. A fair, just and inclusive arrangement that takes into account the realities of the 21st century is needed. Such an arrangement is already in place in the form of the Nile Basin Cooperative Framework Agreement, which is a contemporary, African-initiated treaty designed to promote sustainable management and equitable use of the Nile. This treaty has already been signed and ratified by Ethiopia, Burundi, Rwanda, Tanzania, Uganda and South Sudan. Egypt should stop yearning for a bygone colonial era and join these Nile riparian countries in their joint effort to promote fair and equitable use of the Nile in a sustainable manner. The views expressed in this article are the author's own and do not necessarily reflect Al Jazeera's editorial stance.
