Between the Demon of Politics and the Conscience of the Army: How Popular Awareness Saved Sudan from Its Political Elite

Eng. Tarig Hamza Zain El AbdeinKuala Lumpur, MalaysiaJanuary 2026

Since the dawn of independence in 1956, Sudan has remained trapped in a vicious cycle of futile conflict between a ruler clinging to power and an opposition willing to ally with the devil to overthrow him—even if the price is the homeland itself.
Between the opposition’s infamous saying, “We will cooperate with the devil to bring down the regime,” and the ruling elite’s arrogant retort, “We will not deal with the opposition until they wash themselves seven times in the sea,” a whole school of mutual political hatred was formed. It set the country spinning for decades in the orbit of revenge rather than in the path of state-building.
From “Cooperating with the Devil” to “Washing Seven Times”
These two extreme slogans sum up the tragedy of Sudanese politics:
• An opposition that sees no issue in seeking help from any “devil”—be it foreign power, militia, or international intervention—so long as it topples its rival.
• A ruling class that sees its opponents not as partners in the nation but as political impurity that must be cleansed—“washed seven times in the sea.”
This language is not mere rhetorical exaggeration; it is the expression of a mindset that made hostility more important than country, and political warfare more urgent than social peace.
In such a climate, the Sudanese people found themselves lost between two extremes:
an opposition willing to burn the temple with everyone in it, and a regime that treated half of its citizens as enemies to be erased, not engaged. With every round of conflict, public trust in the political class eroded, until Sudanese today widely believe that the current war is the natural outcome of a long history of political mismanagement.

Coups d’État: Who Invited the Army to Power?

The army is often portrayed as the adventurer who leaves his barracks to seize power. But a closer reading of Sudan’s history reveals a painful truth: almost every coup was not born of a solitary military impulse, but rather in response to political invitation, provocation, or complicity.
• The 1958 coup by General Ibrahim Abboud did not emerge from a vacuum; power was practically handed to him through political understandings when the Prime Minister turned to the army to resolve a partisan deadlock he could not manage through civil means.
• The 1969 coup (May Revolution) took place amid fierce polarization between leftists, nationalists, and sectarian parties—with prominent civilian forces backing it as a tool to eliminate their rivals.
• The 1989 coup, in turn, was not a spontaneous military leap but the culmination of an intense political struggle, where an organized movement used the army as a means to seize power under the banner of “Salvation.”
The truth is that the army never woke up one morning and decided on its own to remove civilian rule. It was often the political class that opened the door, only to later lament the loss of democracy it had willingly surrendered. Thus, the cycle repeated: politicians failing to manage their disputes democratically, inviting the military in, and then blaming them entirely for the outcome.

Confessions of the Politicians: Democracy Without Guardians

The failure of Sudanese politics has never been a secret. Leading figures across generations have confessed as much:
• Al-Sharif Zain al-Abidin al-Hindi, in one of the starkest moments of parliamentary honesty, declared: “Those who defended democracy and paid dearly for it—if even a dog takes it now, no one will say ‘give it back’; it has become a carcass without people to guard it.” He wasn’t insulting democracy itself, but exposing a political class that weakened it until it became defenseless and abandoned.
• Omar Nur al-Da’im repeatedly observed that politics in Sudan is driven by emotions, not reason—a precise description of a reality where passion and narrow loyalties outweigh vision and policy.
• Dr. Hassan al-Turabi, the chief ideologue of the Islamists, eventually admitted that the movement which led the 1989 coup failed to develop a modern political jurisprudence worthy of its ambitions; much theorizing about “shura” and democracy but actual practice led to suppression of freedoms—and loss of legitimacy and effectiveness alike.
• Mohamed Ibrahim Nugud, from the left, warned that fixing parliamentary weakness does not come through new dictatorships but through expanding rights and building a civil democratic state. He said his party was “a small party the size of Sudan,” working within national limits—an implicit reproach to those who turned politics into a gateway to foreign dependency.
• Sadiq al-Mahdi, from the heart of the democratic experiment, wrote repeatedly that the problem was not in democracy itself but in the structure of political parties rooted in sectarianism and tribalism. He held the elite responsible for squandering democracy time and again under the pretext of security or tactical gain.
• Dr. John Garang, from another angle, blamed traditional forces for the state’s early derailment—especially their push for an “Islamic constitution” in a multi-religious, multiethnic country. He saw that as the breaking point for national unity and a gateway to the Islamist coup that followed.
Despite their different ideologies, these voices converge on one truth: the flaw was never in democracy as a concept, but in the elites who emptied it of substance and lacked the integrity to defend it.
When Sudan Lost Faith in Politics and Found Its Conscience in the Army
These cumulative failures led the Sudanese—especially the youth—to a decisive realization: that the country’s ruin and ongoing war are the natural consequences of a bankrupt political class. Consequently, popular sentiment began to shift toward the armed forces—not as an eternal alternative to politics, but as the only remaining guarantor of Sudan’s unity and survival.
The army, under its current leadership, has in a critical moment demonstrated professionalism, restraint, and patriotism—despite deliberate campaigns of vilification by certain politicians. Some who once shared power with it now attack it to rally their bases; others sought to divide the army from the Rapid Support Forces (RSF), or to weaken it through foreign patronage—culminating in the catastrophic war we witness today.
Yet the army has remained cohesive and disciplined, carrying the burden of defending the state while political elites busy themselves with statements and maneuvers. It is therefore no surprise that public sentiment has turned in favor of the Sudanese Armed Forces, in the belief that what politics has destroyed, only a disciplined national army can mend.

A Clear Message to the Army and Its Leadership

This popular support for the military is a great blessing, but also a heavy historical responsibility. The Sudanese people have distanced themselves from the political class and placed their trust in the army because they see it as the last national conscience—not because they want to replace partisan rule with permanent military rule.
The message to the army today is therefore clear:

1. Learn from history’s lessons. What destroyed the politicians wasn’t just mismanagement but their lust for power, which blinded them to the nation’s welfare.
2. Turn battlefield victory into a greater triumph: the victory of the people over chaos and disintegration, and the restoration of a strong, united Sudan—not a spoil for any faction or platform for indefinite rule.
3. Commit publicly to democratic transition. Help the Sudanese people regain their civilian governance through free, fair elections—protected, not dominated, by the military.
   The Sudanese will continue supporting their army until the battle is won—until militias are defeated and the foreign-engineered project to dismantle Sudan is crushed. But this support is not a blank check; it is a conditional trust based on a clear purpose: defend the homeland today, and return power tomorrow to the people’s free will.

Toward a New Transitional Phase: Led by the Army,

Overseen by the People
Once the war is ended, security restored, and refugees and displaced citizens return home, the greater mission begins: rebuilding a wise, inclusive transitional state—one that neither repeats the mistakes of the past nor allows the old political games to resume.
Its outlines could include:
• Establishing governance institutions with clear social legitimacy, beginning at the local level and building upward.
• Forming transitional legislative councils that reflect Sudan’s real diversity, with a defined timeline leading to general elections.
• Creating a full-fledged Constitutional Court to protect the new charter and prevent manipulation of the political system.
• Forming an executive cabinet based on competence and experience—not narrow party quotas.
• Establishing independent commissions for elections, party registration, and a comprehensive census—to lay the foundation for free and transparent elections.
During this transitional period—lasting several years as nationally agreed upon—the Sudanese Armed Forces will shoulder the responsibility of guiding the country to safety: protecting borders, ensuring internal security, preventing the spread of weapons, and safeguarding the political process from being hijacked.
No one should dispute them in this duty, but equally, the people must remain the ultimate overseers, for their trust is the army’s true source of legitimacy.

Toward a New Equation Between the Army and Politics

The goal is not for the army to rule forever, nor for the old political class to regain its corrupt habits. Rather, a new equation must emerge—one that declares:
• The army is the guardian of the nation, not a player in the marketplace of power-sharing.
• Political parties are institutions of public service, not family dynasties or facades for foreign agendas.
• The people are the original source of authority, exercising it through genuine elections—not secret bargains.
Only when this balance is achieved can the army peacefully resume its constitutional role—protecting the borders and the constitution, not managing daily governance—and only then can politics reclaim its honor as a service to the public good, not a theater of betrayal or personal ambition.
History will record this moment in bold letters:
That when the Sudanese people lost faith in their political elite, they rediscovered their conscience in their army.
And if the army now rises above the lure of power and leads the nation to true elections, it will have achieved its greatest victory—not merely for itself, but for Sudan, its dignity, and its people.