Sudan​ ​and​ ​South​ ​Sudan​ ​Inch​ ​Toward​ ​War
Sudan​ ​and​ ​South​ ​Sudan​ ​Inch​ ​Toward​ ​War
Sudan’s Imperilled Transition: Policy Recommendations for the U.S.
Sudan’s Imperilled Transition: Policy Recommendations for the U.S.
Op-Ed / Africa

Sudan​ ​and​ ​South​ ​Sudan​ ​Inch​ ​Toward​ ​War

From dawn until dusk, they walked the red-earth path between territory controlled by the government of Sudan to that held by the rebels -- small groups of men in jalabiyas, women in colorful clothes, and children on donkeys or their fathers’ shoulders or in baskets on their mothers’ backs. They carried jerricans that were filled with water at the start but were now dry, goats too young to walk, utensils, and weapons -- from nineteenth-century swords to rocket-propelled grenade launchers, sometimes both on one shoulder. Among the civilians walked rebel soldiers who were there to protect against depredation by government militias. The travelers' villages in the Ingessana Hills were four days back down the road and surrounded by government forces. Occasionally, a rebel car would come to pick up stragglers and drive them to the next resting spot. But the very weakest -- the oldest, the blind, those too sick to recover -- were left behind. The survivors pressed on toward El Fuj, a crossing point at the border between their war-torn homeland, the Blue Nile state in Sudan, and the new nation of South Sudan. It was one or two days farther on. 

Sudan’s civil war has often been called Africa’s longest conflict. Its first stage, between 1963 and 1972, pitted rebels from the southern part of Sudan against the central government, which was dominated by a northern Arabized elite. The North granted the South a degree of autonomy in 1972, but it was not enough to paper over years of resentment. The conflict resumed in 1983, with the creation of the Sudan People's Liberation Movement/Army (SPLM/A). Although the movement had “liberation” in its title, its leader, John Garang, a charismatic southerner, advocated “diversity in unity” rather than the South’s separation. Less appealing in the deeper south, this relatively modest agenda was popular within border regions on the northern side of the eventual Sudan–South Sudan border, including Blue Nile state and the Nuba Mountains of South Kordofan.

In 2005, after 20 years of a brutal war, Khartoum and the rebels signed a peace agreement that granted the South (but not Blue Nile or South Kordofan) the right to self-determination. By 2011, most southerners had lost faith in unity and voted for independence. North of the new 1,250-mile border between North and South Sudan, some of the South Kordofan and Blue Nile rebels, now calling themselves the Sudan People’s Liberation Movement-North (SPLM-N), vowed to fight on. In June 2011, just after losing local elections and with one month to go before South Sudan’s independence, they once again picked up their guns and war resumed, first in South Kordofan then in Blue Nile. Since then, nearly 200,000 Sudanese civilians have made their way across the border to refugee camps in South Sudan.

For many of them, the idea that they are even crossing a border is a foreign notion. The placement of the new border was supposed to be based on provincial boundaries that existed in 1956, the year of Sudan’s independence. But those boundaries had never stopped moving before or since -- sometimes for good reason, such as facilitating the movements of nomads or access to a watercourse. Suddenly transformed into a solid border, though, the 1956 line looks rather arbitrary. Traveling along it, one mostly meets minorities afraid of being more marginalized than ever in what remains of Sudan and nomads scared of losing their grazing rights in South Sudan. As a result, African Union mediators have insisted that the new line become a “soft border,” one that gives rights to people on both sides of the fence: freedom of movement, trade, residence, farming and grazing, or even the right to vote and of dual citizenship. That idea is appealing, but making it work will require much more from both Khartoum and Juba than the current chronic low-grade warfare.

The day before, government planes had dropped four bombs, damaging an empty hospital. Tree limbs were still smoking on the blackened soil around the nearby mosque.


One afternoon in the dry season, I visited Chali, the main village of the Uduk tribe in Blue Nile. By an accident of history, the region was home to some of Sudan’s Christians, converted by American missionaries expelled from Ethiopia by Benito Mussolini in the late 1930s. By the time I got there, the village was largely deserted. The day before, government planes had dropped four bombs, damaging an empty hospital. Tree limbs were still smoking on the blackened soil around the nearby mosque. Built in 1983 with Saudi funding, the beautiful, castlelike brick construction had prompted many Uduk to join the southern, largely Christian, rebellion against Khartoum that was just getting started.

“The mosque is the cause of our problems,” Polis Macha, a local rebel, told me. “We understood they wanted to change our children to Muslims.” He was sitting with his gun in the church -- intact, but abandoned -- next door to the mosque. Martin Luin, the only one of seven priests who did not leave for refugee camps in South Sudan, was by his side. The Uduk fear that they have no place in a northern Sudan, whose ruling elite, Macha and Luin explained, is increasingly bent on asserting its Muslim and Arab identity. Before South Sudan’s secession, Sudan’s president, Omar al-Bashir, had warned that, should the South obtain independence, there would be “no time to speak of cultural and ethnic diversity.” In the North, he said, “Sharia and Islam will be the main source for the constitution, Islam the official religion, and Arabic the official language.”

The reason for the warning was obvious: After losing a third of its territory (and three quarters of its oil resources), Khartoum would not be ready for further accommodation. Bashir’s threats sparked considerable anxiety not only among Sudan’s few remaining Christians but also millions of non-Arab Muslims, many of whom live in war-torn regions along the border. 


One main reason for the deadlock over disputed parts of the border regions is that the governments in Khartoum and Juba are both fragile and wary of turning border people into rebels. An important site in their game is the so-called Mile 14, a territory that was the subject of thorny negotiations in 2012.

In the dry season, Mile 14, which spans 14 miles from north to south and 125 miles east to west, is a mostly empty plain inhabited by sedentary Dinka cattle herders but also grazed by Arab nomads from the North. I drove across the yellow grass until I reached the river the Arabs call Bahr al-Arab, the “river of the Arabs,” and that the Dinka call Kiir. The snaking waterway, edged with lush greenery, is the northernmost permanent watercourse west of the Nile. The steel hulk of a bridge linking both banks still served as a crossing point for northern traders and nomads in spite of the three southern tanks pointing their guns northward. The tanks are an artifact of South Sudan’s late 2010 strategy of arming that disputed part of the border.

When the Rizeigat Arabs, who live in the North, asked Khartoum to respond to what they saw as an invasion of their homeland by southern tanks, they were told to send their camels and armed herdsmen. The command might sound dismissive, but its message was clear: Get ready to “make a war,” as one Arab leader told me. Since then, tensions have intensified, with Rizeigat militias sometimes fighting against forces from South Sudan. The multiplication of cross-border incidents prompted another round of peacemaking between Juba and Khartoum, which, in September 2012, agreed to demilitarize the borderlands, including the whole of Mile 14. After months of dragging its feet, the southern army began to evacuate the disputed zone in March 2013. According to the United Nations, the troops soon came back.

Both sides know that the area will never be demilitarized. Repeated commitments by Juba to stop harboring northern rebels are unlikely to satisfy Khartoum or end rebellions in Sudan. With South Sudanese authorities not fully willing or able to prevent SPLM-N and allied Darfur factions from going back and forth across the new border, Sudanese rebels are at home in the borderlands. They claim to control 40 percent of the invisible line.

Another reason both Khartoum and Juba hesitate to make too many concessions on the border is that both are rightly worried about turning disgruntled people from the borderlands into rebels. As much as the Dinka from the border areas were the vanguard of the SPLM/A during the civil war, Arab tribes such as the Rizeigat formed the bulk of the paramilitary forces used by Khartoum to fight the rebels in South Sudan and later in Darfur. Increasingly feeling they were both manipulated and not adequately rewarded, Arab fighters joined the SPLM/A (several hundred are reportedly still in South Sudanese ranks). Some have now turned up among the northern rebel groups as well.


It is easy to find anti-Khartoum rebels in the ill-named South Sudanese state of Unity, which borders South Kordofan. The oil-rich province was supposed to symbolize the coexistence of the North and South, but that was a pipe dream. One day, after landing on a plain blackened by bushfires and dotted with oil installations, I drove north toward Unity State’s Jaw area in a vehicle bearing southern license plates but full of northern fighters. They had been caught unprepared by the South’s separation. They had not been into the North for years. At this point, none of them were sure whether they were now southern soldiers or northern rebels.

We reached a checkpoint along the border between Sudan and South Sudan. My guide, a northern rebel, was afraid that the southern soldiers manning the post would climb aboard for the sake of a free lift. “I don’t like them,” he said. “They’re undisciplined. They’re the guys who looted Heglig, for their own profit.” Some 30 miles away, Heglig, an oilfield in Sudan that is still claimed by South Sudan, had been raided by a coalition of the South’s army and northern rebels in April 2012. The same had happened in Jaw in February. Since then, southern and northern combatants were living in nearby camps and bathing together in Lake Jaw. My guide was more at ease at a second checkpoint, a few hundred feet on and intended to mark the northern side of the border, although it was not guarded by Sudanese soldiers but by rebels. My guide hugged them -- he was now at home.

For rebels in North Sudan, discussing the border is often painful. People from all sides and all tribes in Sudan resent the separation of the south, seeing it as representing a collective failure to accommodate southerners and “make unity attractive” -- a major promise of the 2005 peace agreement. The government in Khartoum and many in the opposition are not ready to lose any other part of their territory. A rebel from the Misseriya Arab tribe told me that he had no doubt that Heglig, his tribal homeland, was part of the north. But he also said disputed areas such as Heglig or nearby Abyei -- a flashpoint between North and South Sudan -- are supposed to be common to Dinka and Arabs, “who should live there in harmony.”

Our talk was interrupted by a northern Antonov plane, which circled us before dropping eight bombs not far from the road (and supply line) linking South Sudan and the rebel stronghold in the Nuba Mountains nearby, on the northern side of the border. But both the bombs and the Arab rebel suggested the same message: For the border to be peaceful it would need to be soft, as the African Union has insisted. Further talks on how to make it so would have to involve the governments in Khartoum and Juba, northern rebels, and the local people. Why couldn't a Dinka be a Sudanese citizen and an Arab a South Sudanese? The border might have to be weak in order to survive at all.


Even at the height of the conflict that led to the division of Sudan, peaceful exchanges between border communities never ceased. Throughout the war, Arab nomads such as the Misseriya secretly traded with the rebels in both the south and the north. Some of those suq-al-salam (“peace markets”) still survive today -- but barely. 

One northern trader, Yahya Mohammed, explained: “We Arabs want to establish good relations to bring our livestock to rebel areas and to South Sudan. So both sides meet in green areas at the border, and their livestock graze together without any problem. We also trade with each other. We used to call the markets suq al-salam, but we prefer suq sambuk.” A sambuk is a small boat migrants use to cross the Red Sea. “Going to these markets is just like navigating a sambuk: You don’t know whether you’ll come back or not. Two months ago, I brought fuel to the market, but government soldiers shot at me and left me for dead. The rebels rescued me.” In April 2012, Sudanese Vice President Ali Osman Taha declared the whole border area “an emergency zone.” He gave orders to the armed forces to shoot anyone smuggling across the border or the frontline with SPLM-N rebels. Yahya told me that when he heard the  “shoot to kill” order, he decided not to go back to the government-controlled area.

It is impossible to build a durable peace between Sudan and South Sudan, and within both countries, through separate piecemeal fixes. By their own acknowledgement, international players, in particular African Union mediators, have focused on the relations between Sudan and South Sudan. After having tried everything possible to prevent or solve new conflicts between the two countries, they increasingly realize that peace will remain fragile as long as both governments remain undermined by internal divisions and conflicts with rebels. Both states should work to re-establish trust with their citizens, in particular in the borderlands. Border communities are aware that they matter; their lands are among the most populated, and their livestock, water, oil, and cross-border trade make them some of the wealthiest people in either country. Nevertheless, they feel abandoned by their governments. In Sudan in particular, an inclusive national dialogue could lead to their empowerment. Recent unrest in Khartoum itself makes this solution more and more popular among Sudanese from all sides and among international players.

Back in war-torn Blue Nile, at the triple border of Sudan, South Sudan, and Ethiopia, a local tribal chief, Uweisa Madi Zima, told me, “We’re not educated people and don’t understand much about politics. But the government that will treat us well will be our father, be it South or North Sudan.”

Sudan’s Imperilled Transition: Policy Recommendations for the U.S.

In a 1 February 2022 hearing before the U.S. Senate Committee on Foreign Relations, Crisis Group’s President & CEO Dr. Comfort Ero testified on the escalating situation in Sudan and outlined four main recommendations for the U.S. to help restore the civilian-led transition to democracy.

Good morning/afternoon, Chairman Menendez, Ranking Member Risch and distinguished members of the Committee. My name is Dr. Comfort Ero, and I am the President and CEO of the International Crisis Group. Previously I served as the organization’s Africa program director and I have spent my professional and academic career focusing on peace and security issues in Africa. The International Crisis Group is a global organisation committed to the prevention, mitigation and resolution of deadly conflict. We cover over 50 conflict situations around the world and our presence in Sudan dates back more than two decades.[fn]Crisis Group Africa Report N°281, Safeguarding Sudan’s Revolution, 21 October 2019; Jonas Horner, “After the Coup, Restoring Sudan’s Transition”, Crisis Group Commentary, 5 November 2021; Crisis Group Africa Briefing N°168, The Rebels Come to Khartoum: How to Implement Sudan’s New Peace Agreement, 23 February 2021.Hide Footnote

I very much appreciate the opportunity to speak to you about the deteriorating situation in Sudan today. The country is at a dangerous crossroads. Not for the first time in its history, the military has turned its back on the demands of the Sudanese people for more just and representative rule by violently seizing power. The coup on October 25 brought a sudden halt to a civilian-military coalition that since 2019 has been charged with steering Sudan toward elections and full civilian rule.[fn]Crisis Group Report, Safeguarding Sudan’s Revolution, op. cit.; Horner, “After the Coup, Restoring Sudan’s Transition”, op.cit. It was a major reversal in a transition that had brought hope to so many in the Horn of Africa and beyond. I will share with you my analysis of the current situation in Sudan and recommendations for steps the United States might take to help guide it back on the path toward greater democracy and stability.


By way of background, the transition that was interrupted on October 25 followed 30 years of rule by the notorious strongman Omar al-Bashir.

  • After coming to office in a coup in June 1989, Bashir maintained his hold on power by repressing political opposition, fighting costly counter-insurgencies in the country’s peripheries and underwriting his factious security sector with patronage-driven expenditure that ate up, by some estimates, 70 per cent of the national budget.[fn]Shortly after taking office, Prime Minister Abdalla Hamdok, who was mandated to lead the civilian-military transition in August 2019, listed as an ambition driving down military expenditure to 20 per cent of the national budget. He said in some years, that budget line had stood at 80 per cent. “Sudan PM seeks to end the country’s pariah status”, AP, 25 August 2019.Hide Footnote
  • The patronage system that Bashir built eventually bankrupted the country and contributed to the strongman’s ouster. A small cabal of favoured cronies including Bashir’s Islamist allies from the National Congress Party, senior military officers (many of them drawn from the tiny riverine elite that has dominated Sudan’s military and politics for decades) and newly minted allies such as the paramilitary Rapid Support Forces (RSF), which was blamed for some of the worst violence in the western region of Darfur, benefited substantially from Sudan’s rigged, lopsided economy.[fn]“Who are Sudan’s RSF and their Commander Hemeti?”, Al Jazeera, 6 June 2019.Hide Footnote These same actors continue to try to preserve their privileges atop Sudan’s political, economic and security establishment.
  • Popular frustration over political repression, rising prices and a sclerotic economy that could not absorb Sudan’s ranks of unemployed youths helped trigger the protests that eventually drove Bashir from power. The uprising began in the south-eastern towns of Damazin and Sennar, where crowds took to the streets on 13 December 2018 in response to a tripling of bread prices. By the time the protests reached Atbara, the historic bastion of unionism in Sudan, demonstrators were demanding regime change. Against long odds and despite heavy repression, the protesters eventually overwhelmed the security forces, who staged a palace coup against Bashir on 11 April 2019.  
  • The military tried to maintain the upper hand but was forced under pressure both from the protest movement and external actors to compromise and accept to share power with civilians. International revulsion over a 3 June 2019 massacre of protesters encamped outside the military headquarters was particularly important in forcing the generals to cede to the will of the Sudanese people.[fn]“Sudan commemorates the June 3 Massacre”, Dabanga Sudan, 3 June 2021.Hide Footnote Under the terms of a 17 August Constitutional Declaration, the country would be governed by a hybrid civilian-military coalition for 39 months leading up to elections.
  • The task before that coalition was enormous. The new cabinet headed by the technocrat and diplomat Abdalla Hamdok was charged with breathing new life into Sudan’s anaemic economy, reforming political institutions to lay the ground for elections and delivering justice to the many Sudanese victims of atrocities during Bashir’s rule – and in the weeks following his fall. Despite the formidable obstacles the authorities faced, that coalition represented the country’s best hope for emerging into a stable, prosperous and democratic future and was a source of hope for those supporting democratic renewal in other countries in the region.
  • Always reluctant participants in the alliance, the generals barely disguised their opposition to the Hamdok administration’s reforms and were particularly opposed to efforts to deliver justice and to reshape the country’s economy. In defiance of the United States government and others who warned them against doing so, they seized power and ousted the civilians.

The October 25 Coup and Its Aftermath

Today, unfortunately, the picture looks grim. The military violently applied the brakes on the transition in the early hours of October 25 when they placed Hamdok under house arrest, rounded up numerous other civilian officials in the administration, declared a state of emergency and dissolved key institutions including the cabinet. Since then, Sudan’s military chief General Abdel Fattah al-Burhan has taken a series of steps to reverse the reforms the civilian-led administration had rolled out, including by disbanding a committee charged with reclaiming public assets, by packing the Sovereign Council, which serves as the country’s executive, with his allies and by appointing Bashir-era figures into key posts including in the judiciary and security forces.[fn]Crisis Group EU Watch List 2022, 27 January 2022.Hide Footnote The military attempted some window dressing when it reinstated Hamdok on 21 November, a move Sudanese protesters rightly dismissed as an effort to legitimise their power grab. Some efforts to stimulate talks among Sudanese actors to find a way out of the crisis continue although the prospects of a resolution appear dim.

[Sudan] has been on a downhill trajectory since the coup.

Overall, the country has been on a downhill trajectory since the coup. On 2 January, Hamdok resigned in frustration after failing to persuade the generals to stick to their commitments under the August 2019 constitutional charter, and in particular to give him a free hand to appoint a new cabinet. In the meantime, the public’s frustration has been growing. For the past few weeks, Sudanese people across the country have taken to the streets to signal their revulsion at the military’s power grab. The general’s response to the protests has come right out of the Bashir playbook. The security forces have repeatedly fired into crowds, killing dozens, according to human rights groups and the UN.[fn]“Bachelet condemns killings of peaceful protesters in Sudan”, UN, 18 November 2021.Hide Footnote A late December decree by military chief Abdel-Fattah al-Burhan gave the police effective immunity for their actions. Still, the Sudanese people continue to risk their lives by staging protests, work boycotts and other strike actions.

While it is not yet clear who will come out on top in this contest between the security forces and the street, there is evidence to suggest that the generals have gravely miscalculated the strength of their hand. This is a different Sudan from the one in which the army captured control of the state at least five times in the past, including in 1989 when Bashir took office.[fn]"A history of Sudan coups”, Statista, 25 October 2021.Hide Footnote Sudan has one of the youngest populations in the world.[fn]“After the Uprising: Including Sudanese Youth”, Chr. Michelsen Institute, 2020.Hide Footnote Six in ten Sudanese are aged between fifteen and 30 – and the current generation rejects the notion that the country should go back to being governed by an unaccountable, out-of-touch elite.[fn]Sudan’s Political Impasse”, The Horn (Crisis Group podcast), 26 January 2022.Hide Footnote This mobilised, youthful population showed its power at the end of 2018 when it rose up in protest at Bashir’s repressive, kleptocratic rule. The protest movement captured the imagination of pro-democracy campaigners well beyond Sudan with its diversity, with the prominent role that women played – sometimes outnumbering men in demonstrations – with its tenacity, and ultimately with its success. Against what many viewed as tall odds, it brought a halt to Bashir’s rule. Since the coup, this movement has again shown its strength by mobilising millions of Sudanese to take to the streets and send a clear signal to the generals that they will not, as past generations of officers did, get away with imposing their will on the Sudanese people.[fn]“Deaths Reported in Sudan as ‘March of Millions’ Demands Restoration of Civilian Rule”, Voice of America, 30 October 2021.Hide Footnote

Getting the transition back on track would serve both the people of Sudan’s democratic aspirations and the interests of the United States.

Getting the transition back on track would serve both the people of Sudan’s democratic aspirations and the interests of the United States and other regional and international actors in the strategically important Horn of Africa – where Sudan sits between major regional powers Ethiopia and Egypt and shares a border with seven countries, several in the throes of conflict themselves. Support for Sudan’s transition would comport with the U.S. government’s stated commitment to champion democratic values and to “demonstrate that democracies can deliver by improving the lives of their own people”[fn]“President Biden to Convene Leaders’ Summit for Democracy”, White House, 11 August 2021.Hide Footnote . It would also be the surest pathway to medium- and long-term stability in the country.


The United States is one of Sudan’s most important external partners. It provides about half a billion dollars in assistance annually and was a champion of efforts to reconnect Sudan’s economy with international financial institutions. Given these ties and the United States government’s relations with all the main regional actors, the U.S. is well positioned to support efforts to reverse the military’s power grab and set Sudan back on a path toward elections and representative government. Specifically, it could:

  • Press the generals to immediately halt violence against protesters and coordinate targeted sanctions to hold them to account: As outlined, Sudan’s security forces have responded to peaceful protests by indiscriminately shooting into crowds and sometimes reportedly even pursuing fleeing and wounded demonstrators into hospitals.[fn]“Sudanese security forces ‘hunt down’ injured protesters in hospital”, France 24, 25 January 2022.Hide Footnote This pattern of behaviour, on top of its grave human cost, threatens to poison relations between the parties and render a resolution even further beyond reach. In coordination with partners including the African Union (AU) and the European Union, the United States should make clear that the generals will face consequences including asset freezes and travel bans if they continue to kill unarmed demonstrators. The White House should simultaneously convene an interagency process to design a targeted sanctions programs aimed at key figures in the military and outline that it is willing to deploy these against individuals that continue to sanction the killing of protesters or obstruct progress toward elections more broadly.
  • Support Sudanese-led efforts to rerail the transition: The United States has already signalled its backing for efforts to stimulate negotiations among the generals and civilian groups including the Forces for Freedom and Change (FFC), the coalition that spearheaded the protest movement and neighbourhood resistance committees, which play an integral role in the day-to-day organisation of protests and have proved a particularly effective channel of resistance to the military coup. The United States should warn the generals against taking precipitous measures that could derail these potential talks, including refraining from unilaterally appointing a new prime minister. It should further insist that these talks are maximally inclusive and in particular that they should take on board the views of the resistance committees. The 2019 power-sharing agreement should be the blueprint for a compromise that could restore civilian-military governance and lead to elections.
  • Withhold financial assistance until the military reverses its coup: In the immediate aftermath of the military takeover, the United states suspended $700 million in assistance to Sudan. This was the right step given the generals’ brazen decision to terminate the power-sharing agreement. The United States should make clear to the generals that this support will not resume unless they accept to return to the path toward elections laid out in the 2019 power-sharing agreement. In the meantime, the United States should advance with efforts to repurpose some of its support to civil society groups and also to work with partners including the UN to offer direct assistance to Sudan’s long-suffering people.
  • Urge all regional actors to back a return to a civilian-led dispensation: Many on the Sudanese street perceive some external actors, namely Egypt, the United Arab Emirates and Saudi Arabia, as tacitly backing military rule.[fn]Sudan’s Political Impasse”, op. cit.Hide Footnote Such perceptions will ultimately be damaging to those countries’ standing in Sudan if it is able to reinvigorate its transitional process. But it is still possible for these key regional actors to play an important role in helping Sudan return to a civilian-led transitional process, thereby protecting their relations with the Sudanese people. Given his strong background in regional diplomacy, Special Envoy Satterfield should be well positioned to engage these actors and urge them to use their privileged relations with Sudan’s generals to convey to them that the power-sharing agreement they torpedoed remains Sudan’s best and perhaps only chance for stability, a goal they all profess to share. With the welcome appointment of a new ambassador to Khartoum, the United States could play a key role in marshalling a coalition of actors within and outside Sudan that can help steer the country back toward the path to elections.

Sudan is at a historic hinge-point. The military’s power grab has derailed a transition that was an inspiration well beyond Sudan, and still could be, if the generals step back and allow Sudan’s civilians to steer the country to elections. With a piling set of challenges – not least an economy in deep distress, resurging violence in Darfur and elsewhere, and a tottering peace deal with armed groups – the generals can hardly afford to stonewall the Sudanese people’s demands for change. The world – and the United States – should stand with Sudan’s people in their quest for a more democratic and accountable government, an outcome that represents the country’s best hope for achieving long-run political, social and economic stability.

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