
Hemedti: How Did He Utter Everything That Undermines Him All at Once?
By Dr. Ismail Al-Hakim
In his recent speech, Hemedti did not need opponents to debunk his propositions; he took it upon himself to dismantle them, establishing the case against his own project from within before others could do so. The speech was burdened with admissions that transcend the boundaries of a mere political slip, reaching the level of moral and national condemnation. It appeared as an obituary for a project that was born troubled and lived in contradiction.
Hemedti admitted to bringing in mercenaries to operate drones—an admission that should not be read solely in a military context, but rather as an undermining of national sovereignty and a violation of Sudanese decision-making. Relying on mercenaries is not an isolated tactical choice; it is an implicit declaration of self-incapacity and a loss of both popular and military support. When added to the talk of destroying aid convoys, we are faced with a discourse that strips the speaker of his claim to defend the people and places him in direct confrontation with the suffering of civilians.
Furthermore, his admission of receiving support and funding from the United Arab Emirates and the Kingdom of Saudi Arabia opens a wide door for questioning the independence of decision-making and the nature of a project managed outside the national will. Any political or military movement that derives its survival from abroad more than from within establishes isolation rather than victory, and mortgage rather than sovereignty.
The matter did not stop there; the speech went on to mourn the so-called “Foundation Government” and its affiliates, admitting its inability to provide services to its citizens. This is an acknowledgement of a major administrative and political failure that cannot be sugarcoated with slogans or justified by the circumstances of war. Governments are measured by their ability to manage resources and secure a minimum level of living stability, not by the abundance of statements or the loudness of tone.
Among the greatest blunders in his speech was the stark contradiction between his claim of being “the most religious of people” and his subsequent declaration of belief in secularism after the war. Religiosity is not a banner to be raised in times of need, nor is secularism a position to be adopted as a tactical exit. The contradiction here is not merely intellectual but moral, as it reveals an excessive pragmatism that swaps convictions as positions change.
However, the most dangerous element in the speech, in my view, was his explicit admission of a lack of acceptance among the Sudanese people. In political science, this is sufficient to blow up any legitimacy. Political projects are not built on weapons alone, but on public consent and the masses’ sense that they are represented in the vision and the path. When a leader admits to this lack of acceptance, he signs—with his own hand—the death certificate of his project.
On another front, the speech revealed a clear ignorance of economic matters when he spoke of suspending the “Bankak” service and refusing to deal with the current currency, as if the economy is managed by impulsive decisions rather than complex equations. Attempting to tamper with the banking system is not a political pressure card, but a gamble with the fate and savings of your citizens, and a blow to what remains of trust in your state’s institutions.
In conclusion, the speech intended to be a manifesto of strength turned into a document of weakness; what was presented as a vision was revealed as confusion; and what was offered as a justification transformed into a confession. Thus, the question is no longer: What did he say? but rather: How did he say everything that undermines him all at once?
The value of political discourse is measured by its consistency, its ability to persuade, and the clarity of the project it carries. But when it is dominated by contradiction, weighed down by admissions, and exposed by figures and facts, it becomes—no matter how high its tone—of no significant impact and of no weight in the scales of history.



