Civil War and Failed Efforts for Peace in the Sudan

I. Introduction

Africa's longest drawn-out civil war in the Sudan has persisted through the country's transition from colonial dependency to national statehood. During the closing days of Anglo-Egyptian rule, societal anxieties and tensions, coupled with administrative overreaction and ineptness created a highly volatile situation in southern Sudan. Violence erupted in 1955 when the Torit garrison mutinied and was joined by civilians, police and prison guards. For about two weeks Equatoria Province became the killing fields for northerners, most of whom were civilians, including women and children. Government punishment was brutal, although many mutineers had fled into the bush or to neighbouring countries.

Memories of the massacre and the subsequent reprisals found a life of their own that continues to haunt the country even now. Before the government talked with the Sudan People's Liberation Movement (SPLM) and Sudan People's Liberation Army (SPLA)in 1990, a state-owned newspaper published an open letter to a peace activist, a half-page long litany of hate and vengeance based on the Torit events and signed by the Chief government negotiator. Still, that mutiny and the losses of lives, spiralling antagonisms, massive human displacement, and economic crises are symptoms, for the civil war itself, is the effect not the cause of the conflict. After independence, in 1956, hostilities escalated to a full-scale war that has outlived three parliamentary democracies and four military regimes. Fighting has thus spanned the opposite poles of political activity from a multi-party system, through the restrictions of one party rule, to the extreme of military dictatorship. The conflict has survived every form of rule in Sudan.

Although the 1972 Addis Ababa agreement brought fighting to a halt, it did not lead to peacebuilding. The May regime of General Nimeiri failed to take advantage of the momentum of reconciliation to address the roots of the conflict. This unfulfilled promise of a `new deal' inflated the frustration with the regime and its high-handed policies. Consequently, when the fighting resumed in 1983, it was much more violent than before. Since then, civil war, and the related famines and diseases have consumed about a million lives, displaced several millions more, and dispossessed the war zone of health, educational and other social services. Sudan has mastered its own self-destruction.

It is not our aim here to retrace the history of the conflict, or to provide a catalogue of its damage. Instead, this chapter attempts to understand the obstacles to and prospects for peace in the Sudan. This requires the search for answers to the basic questions, "Why does the war persist?" and "Why have all earlier attempts at a settlement failed?" Sadly, neither time nor the devastation of the fighting has forged a national consensus on these issues. Yet, a considerable measure of agreement on these questions exists among southern Sudanese, while in the north, views on the war have remained divided and confused. This latter situation, as we will show, is largely the product of the routine censorship and disinformation spread by successive regimes. Since the 1989 military coup, the deposed traditional rulers have displayed a remarkable shift in their outlook on the war by signing several agreements with the mainstream southern leadership, though legitimate doubts surround this recent conversion of traditional elite to the cause of peace.

II. The Dominant View of the Conflict from the North

Throughout the past forty years of independence, the dominant elite and their parties have never questioned the root causes of the war. Political statements on the war have simply rehashed earlier positions that reduce it to foreign intervention. Whether this is a manifestation of political ineptitude, social and cultural prejudices or due to a total lack of vision of the country's future is open to debate. Regardless, the ruling elite have never recognised the conflict in terms other than a regional mutiny and a local rebellion instigated by foreign powers, or merely a 'southern problem.' There is no official recognition that what Sudan faces is a civil war and therefore a full-blown national crisis, and as a result there is no sense of urgency. For to resolve a crisis one must first recognise that it exists.

The perception of the crisis by northern Sudanese traditional elite has rarely changed. Originally they viewed the 1955 mutiny as another opportunity to whip up popular emotions against colonial rule and pave the way for their ascent to power. The indigenous elite did not attempt to inform the masses about conditions in the south, or reflect on the underlying causes of the insurrection or its consequences. As G.N. Sanderson explained, " The most effective weapon in the 'national struggle' was not 'the masses in the streets' ...popular nationalism had no very satisfying part to play. If not quite a mere spectator, it was at most a kind of Greek chorus, reacting to events rather than initiating them." Nor did the elite seriously challenge the reaction of the British governor-general or his government. Instead, after a routine judicial inquiry of Torit's tragic events, they simply accused the British of complicity with the mutineers and pressed on with their manoeuvres to attain 'the political kingdom.'

Since independence, all regimes, whether civilian or military, have attributed the civil war exclusively to external forces. The ruling elite never even questioned why the fighting continues despite frequent changes in government and in foreign policy orientation. Accusing fingers have remained readily pointed at colonial policies, imperialist designs, Christian churches, communist plots, Zionist machinations, racist conspiracies or envious neighbouring states. Rather than abating, the tendency to accuse outsiders has further intensified. Recent statements of the Islamist military government insist that a crusade targeting Sudan's religious orientation has imposed war in the south. In this manner the regime conveniently reduces the conflict to "a plot to undermine the unity of the Islamic state" motivated by "the fears of the enemies of Islam."

Along with evoking the bogus of a foreign conspiracy the ruling elite have sought to misinform and confuse citizens about the conduct of the war. None of the post colonial regimes have ever revealed figures showing the lives lost, the casualties borne or the prisoners of war taken. Statistics for the massive destruction of agricultural or other civilian property, and of transportation, health and education facilities remain cloaked in secrecy. Excluding sparse and vague statements on the desirability of peace, government and party officials never discuss the real costs of war. State ownership, operation and control of the principal media organs have reduced news of the war to routine statements by the army High Command. Apart from reports of victories over the "mutineers," or tactical withdrawals in face of rebel advances supported by foreign enemies, no reference is made to the concomitant casualties, waste of national wealth and lost opportunities for development. All the post-colonial governments have assigned the execution of this policy to a Minister of Information & National Guidance who supervises radio, television and the Sudan News Agency. Since 1956, the only time a southern Sudanese, Bona Malwal, filled this cabinet post, was under the exceptional circumstances of the Addis Ababa peace agreement.

Withholding information on the war is not a simple issue of national security. It is an essential component of the state system's arsenal to maintain and reproduce the status quo. As will later become evident, this status quo allows the northern sectarian-military-bureaucratic establishment to exercise hegemony over the political, socio-economic, and cultural affairs of the whole country. Apparently then, this dominant power bloc perceives any challenge to the existing order as an immediate threat to its privileges, if not to its very existence. Under such conditions, national interest and national security have come to mean little more than preserving the structures and relations of dominance. It is within this broader context that we understand the determined efforts to conceal the horrendous cost of the civil war.

The dominant power bloc remains embroiled in a Catch 22 situation; for while it is incapable of agreeing to a settlement, it cannot bankroll the war indefinitely. This predicament leads to further complications. The governing elite realise that their rule cannot survive the popular indignation that would arise if the real human and economic costs of the war were made public. Consequently, data regarding these issues must remain classified to avoid the risk of a popular backlash and to thwart potential opposition. Confidentiality also placates the army top brass by allowing them unobstructed access to, and control over massive funds without scrutiny. War expenditures have always provided the generals of the High Command and civilian middlemen with private financial gains through local purchases and arms contracts in hard currency, all of which are difficult to audit.

Understandably then, official statements by the political and military leadership have remained harmonious in tone. The former group relegates the conflict to the status of an irrelevant and foreign propelled squabble in the far away bush, while the latter engage in mopping up operations against mutineers and bandits. Both groups promote the delusion that a military solution is not only possible but imminent. Whenever the war or other related crises intensify, the ruling elite invariably evokes the ever-present source of all evil, the machinations of foreign intervention. In December 1995, General Basher insisted that Uganda, Eritrea and the United States had prevented his troops from annihilating the SPLM. The two policy options of downplaying the war's impact and ascribing it to external conspiracies dovetail in complete harmony, for they breed apathy about the conflict outside the war mangled areas and so reduce threats of domestic backlash and upheaval.

During the early years of Sudan's independence, the dominant power bloc remained generally insensitive to popular opposition. Governments of the Umma Party (UP) and its sectarian twin, the National Unionist Party (NUP), later renamed Democratic Unionist Party (DUP), have revelled in the religious aristocracy's massive rural following, while military regimes were not as subtle for they have relied on brute force. The disdain of both types of government for public opinion was almost boundless. A case in point was the 1958 change in regimes. In that year, fatigued by inter-party rivalry, the elected Prime Minister simply asked the Commander-in-Chief of the army to take over power. Although this military regime survived several coup attempts, an antiwar rally of civilians in 1964 mushroomed into a national strike and a popular uprising that finally forced the officers back to the barracks. Similarly, in 1985 a repeat performance by the mass organisations ended 16 years of General Nimeiri's rule. On the two occasions, as again in 1988, the civil war stirred the popular movement to change governments and launch efforts for a peaceful settlement. After each uprising, however, the northern ruling elite managed to abort peace initiatives.

Taking their cue from the sudden collapse of military rule in 1964, the sectarian elite and their bureaucratic-military allies became incessantly sceptical of the popular thrust for peace. Concerns of this nature accelerated efforts to control the flow of information on the war. Accordingly, in the following year, a precedent was set by the Ministerial decree "to the effect that no reports concerning the security (in the south) should be published before approaching the competent authorities in this respect." From then onwards, "Sudanese journalists...were not permitted to publish their own findings without censor; they had to...depend on the government reports which were all shamelessly concocted." It is almost unbelievable that these measures were applied by a 'democratically' elected government taking office in the wake of a military regime.

Delinking the popular movement in the north from the conflict in the south became crucial for sustaining the status quo and for maintaining the continued hegemony of the dominant power bloc. Although the policy was not totally successful, it stunted the growth of a strong peace movement in the north and in so doing retarded the realisation of a settlement. The policies of downplaying the impact of the war produced even greater harm in terms of civilian casualties and economic ruin, as they propelled the SPLM to show its muscle and make its presence felt. In the years that followed the reignition of the civil war, the SPLA launched attacks against high profile targets such as the Chevron oil fields, the French consortium dredging the Jonglei canal, and the regional capitals of Juba and Malakal.

III. Southern Perceptions Of the Conflict

Protracted warfare with the government and the subsequent emergence of 'friendly forces' and tribal militias, the creations of Khartoum, have made the south a living death for its citizens. Particularly affected are the most vulnerable, the women and children, and the elderly who cannot run away. Except during times of military crisis, the dominant northern elite remained oblivious to the south. As Ahmed Sikainga remarks: "The south has always been viewed and treated by the sectarian politicians as an afterthought, an appendage, and a marginalized section of society." Rarely did the vision of this elite extend beyond their power base of the 'golden triangle' between the Blue and White Niles. Southern elite recognised that the destruction of life, society and environment is born of the high-handed behaviour of Khartoum's sectarian leaders and their resolve to retain their grip on the region. In reaction to this reality, the southern leaders adopted two quite different courses of action.

Most of the southern elite gravitated towards regional political parties, contested elections and became entangled in Khartoum's power struggles. Given their narrow base of support and meagre resources, these parties were too weak to influence Khartoum's policies towards the south or other national issues. For the most part, the southern parties failed to challenge the dominant power bloc and remained its hostages. The other faction of the southern elite perceived the roots of war along racial and religious divides and therefore championed the call for secession. As a leading proponent of this view explained to the 1965 Khartoum Round Table Conference, " The Sudan falls sharply into two distinct areas, both in geographical area, ethnic groups, and cultural systems...there is nothing in common between the various sections of the community; no body of shared belief, and above all, the Sudan has failed to compose a single community."

When it emerged in 1983, the SPLM/SPLA challenged these tactics of the southern elite. The Movement linked political marginalization, economic underdevelopment and cultural domination in the south to national processes. Therefore, it refused to operate from within these structures of the dominant bloc, expressing the commitment to "end the monopoly of power by a few in Khartoum." The dominant elite "say there is a southern problem;" but for the SPLM, "the problem in itself is in Khartoum." At the same time, the SPLA rejected secession on the premise that the war "is not a fight between northerners and southerners. It is not a fight between Christians and Muslims." In essence, the Movement saw its struggle to be against the established structures and relations in the Sudan. The ferocity of the conflict merely underscores Khartoum's tenacity to maintain the status quo against what it correctly sees as a threat to its privileged position.

By challenging the existing order and calling for a new Sudan, the SPLM takes the long view. The manipulation and abuse of liberal democracy by the dominant bloc have led the Movement to rule out the option of working from within the existing system. Similarly, secession did not seem to provide enough guarantees against future destabilisation by northern elite; the tactics of the southern elite could not ensure long term stability, peace and development. It followed then that the SPLM would have to secure these objectives through its struggle for a more just and democratic new Sudan. Such an endeavour called for: "...a radical restructuring of the power of the central government in a manner that will end once and for all the monopolisation of power by any self-appointed gang of thieves and criminals, whatever their backgrounds, whether they come in the form of political parties, family dynasties, religious sects, or army officers."

Such sharp declarations by the SPLM served notice that no configuration of the dominant elite will have power in the new Sudan. In reaction to this explicit threat, most of the northern political and bureaucratic elite fiercely opposed contacts with the Movement. Of these groups, the sectarian elite found the Movement's vision of the future particularly alarming, for the SPLM notion of Sudanism maintains that:

"...the Sudan has been looking for its soul, for its true identity. Failing to find it...some take refuge in Arabism, and failing in this, they find refuge in Islam as a uniting factor. Others...take refuge in separation. In all of these there is a lot of mystification and distortion to suit the various sectarian interests...we need to throw away all these sectarianisms and look deep inside our country and the experience of others... we can form a unique Sudanese civilization that does not have to take refuge anywhere.

Sudanism then, is tantamount to issuing a death sentence to the sectarian elite, for whom Islam and the Arabic language are not only ideological weapons, but the foundation of their claim to legitimacy. Their importance is made abundantly clear by Sadiq el Mahdi, leader of the Umma Party and former Prime Minister, when he said: "The dominant feature of our nation is an Islamic one and its overpowering expression is Arab, and this nation will not have its entity identified and its prestige and pride perceived except under an Islamic revival." Of course, under the National Islamic Front military regime that came to power in 1989, these issues become even more intractable. Hassan al Turabi, the de facto ruler of the country (though he failed to win a seat in the last elections), asserts that without Islam, "Sudan has no identity, no direction."

IV. The Emergence of a Dominant Northern Elite

Sectarian politics, military intervention in the political process, armed struggles in the south and civil disobedience movements in the north, have all figured highly in the Sudan since independence. These facets of Sudanese politics interrelate and feed on each other in a variety of ways. Of interest here is the fact that these inter-connections predate national sovereignty. Colonial policy was thought to guarantee stability and was thus adopted as essential terms of reference -- an umbilical cord not to be severed.

In this regard, it is to be recalled that the 1898 conquest of Sudan was engineered in response to the threat posed by the Mahdist state and the potential to destabilise conditions in Egypt. This strategic imperative shaped the Anglo-Egyptian administration into a militarist and highly centralised mould. Several of these characteristics have survived the transition to independence and directly or indirectly influenced future developments. For example, the overdeveloped colonial state organs of violence contributed to the advent of military coups and to the mentality that views the conflict in the south merely as a mutiny. Likewise, the colonial economic policies of concentrating investments in the area between the two Niles continued and thereby aggravated the uneven development of the country.

One of Sudan's great misfortunes is that functionaries of this militarist-statist administration commanded the nationalist movement, and they remained locked in its outlook, mentality and practices. Imbued with the attitudes and dictates of the colonial regime but not its reasoning or mode of thought, the petty bureaucrats-cum-national leaders were not up to the challenges of building a democratic and just society. Independence, as discussed elsewhere, came in a very similar manner to the conquest, the result of regional strategic imperatives. The disagreement between Sudan's condominium powers over the country's future resulted in ". . .very heavy pressure upon the Foreign Office from the US State Department to buy Egyptian support for the American cold war strategy by recognising the claims of Egypt." Effectively this meant that independence came before a fully fledged nationalist movement could develop clear ideas about the future of the country. In effect, "The 'national struggle' within the Sudan had itself been conducted throughout as a diplomatic 'game'..."

The main local beneficiaries of this diplomatic game were leaders of the two largest religious sects along with the top operators of their populist political parties. Following immediately on the heels of the theocratic Mahdist rule, the colonial administration remained particularly sensitive to the role of religious leaders. Colonial policy nurtured a religious aristocracy that was given massive real estate, agricultural land and government contracts. At the head of this aristocracy were leaders of the two main sects in the country, whom the British knighted, and who later sponsored the country's largest political parties -- the Umma and the DUP. At the same time, a budding group of Sudanese bureaucrats, appointed to serve the administration of the colonial regime, realised they stood to gain from the expansion of private enterprise and accordingly sought closer ties with the religious sects. Out of this close association arose leaders of the Sudanese dominant political parties: "...the bureaucrats never entertained any idea of structural transformation or radical change in Sudanese society. Such notions were out of tune with the training they acquired while serving the colonial agencies of repression, e.g. police, army, local government, etc., and with their education."

The bureaucrats were the architects of these political parties. Reflecting the rigidities of bureaucratic training, the party organisations did not engender genuine democratic practices, popular participation or the active soliciting of broad based consensus. Instead of articulating national grievances and aspirations, the political leaders sought to protect the interests of sectarian families, a process that led to further divisions within the north as well as with the south. The religious aristocracy provided not only material backing but, most important, because of its spiritual status, guaranteed the unquestioning, blind and fanatical following of the larger proportion of the Sudanese people in the north. A close observer, G. N. Sanderson, explains that: "In the early 1940s secular nationalism had no resonance, and indeed no meaning, outside a comparatively small circle of white-collar intelligentsia. The nationalist leaders, seeking an ersatz popular following through a link with the Ansar or the Khatmiya, inevitably became bound to the sectarian chariot wheels."

The two main parties had no specific programs of any kind, nor did they collect fixed membership dues. For their financial needs, they relied on the benevolence of the religious aristocracy and their commercial or agricultural investment partners as well as periodic transfers from foreign sources. From their early formation, therefore, these parties were more like business enterprises than organs for national liberation. After independence, they remained more preoccupied with political intrigue than confronting the larger political, social and economic problems of the country. Never did these parties seem aware of any such urgent needs at all. In other words: " The two religious leaders were anything but revolutionaries. Nor,...were even the more militant secular politicians. All concerned aspired to take over the existing system in working order - a goal unlikely to be achieved by the politics of popular insurrection. Indeed, the secular nationalists, most of whom had been career officials, at times tended to identify independence rather narrowly with the Sudanization of the key administrative posts."

Sudanization, the process of replacing colonial administrators by nationals, became a bounty for the bureaucracy, and was used by the sectarian parties to reward their clients, to find new ones and to gain influence within the state apparatus. Planned to end by the early 1960s, the program of Sudanization was executed with record-breaking speed, unmatched in the history of the national government, for it was completed six years ahead of schedule. The program was an unmitigated disaster for two reasons. First, it amounted to a routine changing of the guard without the least effort to reorient the system from its colonial bearings. Second, but more important, it was national in name only, for in essence it was what Peter Nyot called, 'northernisation of the Sudanese Public Service.' Out of the 800 posts covered by the program and instead of the forty-odd places that Oliver Albino believes to have been promised to the south, southerners filled only six junior positions. Since then, a pattern evolved by which "...the northern bureaucratic elite entrenched and perpetuated itself in the state apparatus."

In view of the previously discussed orientation of the political parties, their patrons and their leaders, the Sudanization debacle should not come as a surprise. It merely underlines a typical pattern that continues to the present. The Khartoum elite’s perception of national issues and of the country, remains more often than not, reactive, biased, self-interested, fragmented, and therefore limited. Their indifference towards southern protests over Sudanization further fuelled suspicion and contributed to the aforementioned Torit mutiny. The persistence of the northern elite’s misperception, the string of their dishonoured promises and the series of tragic actions and reactions on both sides have intensified the civil war. An important component of this misperception is the tendency of the northern elite to blame the crises of confidence, if not the entire conflict, on the British colonial 'Southern Policy'. This policy, adopted in the 1930s and 1940s, rendered the south a 'Closed District' and barred the travel of northerners into the region without government permits. Had the northern elite been so acutely aware of and concerned about the divisive role of colonialism why did they not introduce confidence building measures, during Sudanization, for example.

Although this 'Southern Policy' was introduced to 'protect' the region from the exploitation of northern merchants, it did not lead to greater economic activity or self-reliance. Apart from offering traditional tribal leaders some powers and applying certain ridiculous measures to keep out northern influence, ". . . the south was left in a state of 'care and maintenance'. Education remained almost entirely in the hands of foreign missionaries, economic development was virtually non-existent." However, it is often ignored that, as late as 1946, closed districts were also applied in the north to block merchant activities. While these areas were quickly reintegrated into the dominant economy by the end of colonial rule, the absence of northern investments in the south reduced interest in the region. The weak economic links between north and south together with the cultural arrogance of the northern elite resulted in the habitual denial of the real grievances in the south. Accordingly, the crisis is seen as a mutiny to be out-gunned and defeated. An important dimension of the colonial economic policies of 'benign neglect' in the south was the failure to accelerate economic activity and encourage the development of its productive forces. As a consequence, elite formation in the south was much slower to develop than in the north; their ranks were dominated by traditional chiefs and a small number of missionary-educated southerners. In short, the 'separate development' of the south was not only economic but political as well.

V. Build Up of Popular, Military and External Pressures: The Round Table Conference, the Addis Ababa Agreement and the Kokadam Declaration.

The growing operations of the colonial government in the north created the need for not only an indigenous professional cadre but also labourers. Increased exports led to the expansion in irrigation systems, mechanised farming, ginneries, and transport networks to the production areas and the seaport. By the mid-1940s, railway workers, numbering about 20,000, initiated the drive for trade union organisation which within a decade, had spread to most urban areas as well as agricultural projects. The workers were supported by the small but influential Sudanese Communist Party(SCP), which also allied itself with unions of farmers, tenants as well as students. Initially, the sectarian parties offered token financial support to the unions. However, once these parties inherited political power, their relations with the unions deteriorated dramatically. From the early days of the self-rule government the unions and SCP formed a broad front to support worker demands as well as public concerns of civil liberties, democracy and national economic development.

With political independence in 1956, this loose alliance became more militant in its challenge to the dominant bloc. Encompassing workers, farmers, students, women, professional organisations and the clandestine SCP, this grouping sought to provide an alternative to the sectarian parties and their unending petty divisions. However, before these various groups could coalesce and spread outside the urban areas, the ruling elite passed on state power to the military. After publicly blessing the army take-over, the two sectarian patrons allowed members of the deposed cabinet to join in the new Council of Ministers. In contrast, the regime detained leading members of the unions and banned their organisations. Through its use of repression, the junta ensured that the opposition of the popular organisations remained uncoordinated and weak.

Essentially the army regime continued the southern policies of Arabicization and Islamization put in place by the previous sectarian government while seeking a military solution. The only difference was that the junta pursued these policies much more aggressively, particularly the civil war which was escalated to unprecedented levels. Still, the new popular forces of unions and associations continued to intensify their mass action campaigns against the policies of the regime in the north as well as in the south. Finally, in 1964, following violent demonstrations opposing the war, the unions called for a general strike that paralysed the country and forced the regime out of office. It was the unions rather than the parties that brought the military regime down. As historian M.W. Daly noted, " The old political parties had played a much less significant role in these developments than had the trade unions and professional organisations, and the transitional government established in the wake of the generals was dominated by these 'new forces', whose strength was significantly independent of sectarian support."

Freed from sectarian control, the Unions and Professional Front (UPF) adopted several unprecedented measures that constituted the "... first serious attempt at a political settlement of the conflict." The premiership of the new government went to a northern educationalist who had served for a decade in the south. Unlike in earlier times, cabinet membership was not dictated by the sectarian patriarchs, but was determined by the respective constituencies. Politicians from the south selected their representatives to the council of ministers, which included for the first time workers and farmers. Instead of the traditional marginal positions reserved for southern politicians, the UPF government assigned them to the important posts of Interior, Labour and Transport and Communications. These seemingly simple and uncontroversial steps, as Deng Ruay commented, "...attempted a radical departure from the past: a departure from the narrow, chauvinistic and fanatical conception of nationhood to a more flexible and progressive perspective of national unity and national consciousness."

Following these confidence building measures the UPF government proceeded with its plans to resolve the national conflict in the south. These efforts culminated in the Khartoum Round Table Conference of 1965 which was attended by exiled southern leaders as well as those from within the country along with representatives of northern political parties and observers from African countries. The Conference represented a bold step taken in haste and overburdened with great expectations but without adequate political groundwork. The opening sessions were consumed by inflammatory accusations and acrimony that could have been avoided through earlier low-level discussions. In the words of Deng Ruay, "The moods and the morale of the Conferees were far from refined and the confidence between them seemed to be wanting." This situation was further complicated by the absence of a coherent leadership within the political elite on both sides, north and south.

Moreover, political parties from both parts of the country shared similar impediments. First, they were riddled with internal divisions and in conflict with each other. Second, politicians on both sides seemed worried about accusations of a sell out by their men in the field, the Sudanese army and the Anya-Nya, respectively. After dragging on for a week, "...it became glaringly evident that no effort could save the Conference from failing in all of its objectives, and it was allowed to collapse." A face-saving resolution was adopted to speed up the resettlement of refugees, the 'southernization' of administrative positions, and for social and economic development. In his comments on the Round Table, Dunstan Wai argued that ". . .mutual mistrust, suspicion and lack of statesmanship from both sides" were the prime factors in its failure.

By the end of the Conference, the sectarian parties had lost patience with the UPF government and were able to force parliamentary elections. Blessed with the blind support of the religious sects' followers, the sectarian parties were brought back to power. Again, national politics was dragged back into the pre-1958 quagmire of petty rivalries, endless rifts, frivolous manoeuvres and total disregard for the real issues of peace and development. The sectarian elite were more concerned with issues such as allowing northern merchants to represent the south in the new Assembly, the banning of the SCP, and whether the constitution should be Islamic or secular, and the government parliamentary or presidential. At the same time, the earlier policies of Arabicization and Islamization were intensified and the war was allowed to escalate.

Reprisals by government forces against civilians in the south became more vindictive and bloody. With the spread of the war, the sectarian elite's need for financial and military support increased. According to Prime Minister Mahjoub, "the UAR, Algeria, Saudi Arabia and Kuwait, helped us with arms, ammunition and funds." Open support by Arab countries encouraged contacts between the southern armed movement of Anya-Nya and the Israelis, who provided training and equipment. Following Idi Amin's coup in Uganda, the Israelis established an even deeper involvement in the Sudanese conflict. Consequently, by 1970 the Anya-Nya had developed a military organisation capable of challenging Khartoum's forces. Success in the field and frustration with the divisions within the southern parties allowed the movement, renamed the Southern Sudan Liberation Movement (SSLM), under Joseph Lagu to emerge as the major political and military force in the south.

Popular frustration with the sectarian parties and their self-seeking policies had prepared the ground for the 1969 coup d'état by Brigadier Nimeiri and several young army officers. At first, the junta espoused radical socialist objectives, allied themselves with left wing forces and battered the traditional sectarian oligarchy. Nimeiri's Revolutionary Command Council (RCC) sought to further restructure the dominant power bloc by purging the army, bureaucracy and even the private sector. However, when pressure mounted for substantial changes in the country's political economy, Nimeiri balked. Radical elements within the RCC staged a coup in 1971, and detained Nimeiri. Within days, he was reinstated by a counter coup supported by Libya and Egypt. Before the end of that year Nimeiri had executed the leaders of the Communist Party, dissolved the RCC, shifted ideological gears, and advocated wedding western technology and Arab petrodollars to Sudanese resources. In a further attempt to break his domestic isolation, Nimeiri formed the Sudanese Socialist Union (SSU) and declared it the sole legitimate party in the country. Instead of mobilising popular participation, the SSU turned into a government department and a vehicle for corruption. Having alienated both the right and left wing forces, without any strong base of support at home and cut off from his principal foreign ally, the Soviet Union, Nimeiri found himself isolated and vulnerable.

Ultimately, the search for allies drove Nimeiri to turn towards the south and seek a peaceful settlement of the civil war through the good offices of the World Council of Churches and Emperor Haile Selassie. The Anya-Nya too were confronted with an emerging new situation, one that threatened to undermine their position of strength. Faced with the reality of a military stalemate and the likelihood of a decline in their future capacity to carry on the war, both Nimeiri and the southern Sudanese were prepared to give negotiations a higher priority than they had in the past. By signing the Addis Ababa Agreement in 1972 Nimeiri became the peacemaker and won wide support in the south. However, the peace agreement contained the seeds of its own demise, in that it allowed the south to have an elected Regional Assembly. In other words, the south emerged as an island of democracy within the autocratic Sudanese state. Granting the south a degree of autonomy and democracy, non-existent elsewhere in the country, disturbed the internal stability of the regime. Also, regional autonomy denied Khartoum immediate control over or easy access to the mineral and oil wealth in the south. The regime's need for these resources increased as the national economic crisis deepened. Perhaps the greatest weakness of the Addis Ababa agreement was that it lacked a broad consensus in the north, for Nimeiri alone had signed it.

By the mid 1970s Nimeiri seemed invincible as his security apparatus succeeded in thwarting all coup attempts. However, in 1975 and 1976 his early warning systems failed, and on both occasions he was forced to go into hiding leaving his lieutenants to save the regime. The latter coup was particularly serious for the Libyan trained United Front Force (UFF) of the sectarian parties and the Muslim Brothers (later known as the National Islamic Front) stormed Khartoum and took over government installations. During 1977 Nimeiri reconciled with the UFF, and many of its leaders joined his regime. Eventually, the sectarian patriarchs were alienated by Nimeiri's despotism and began to withdraw their support. The Muslim Brothers party of religious fanatics, however, intensified its collaboration with the regime and was rewarded with several leading posts. More important, this close association allowed them to infiltrate the state apparatus as well as secure extraordinary concessions for their empire of Islamic banks. At the same time that Nimeiri turned towards the Muslim Brothers for local support, he fashioned close ties with Egypt and the United States abroad. Preoccupied with the military threats to Sudan's security posed by Libya and Ethiopia and, behind them, the Soviet Union, Cairo and Washington extended to Khartoum extensive military aid and economic support; whether they liked it or not, they became identified with Nimeiri and his personal security.

Nimeiri's overconfidence and the regime's intensifying economic difficulties led him to seek direct control over the newly discovered oil resources in the south. Hence, in 1980, he announced plans to redraw the borders between southern and northern provinces. When this proposal was blocked by the regional government, he conveniently created a new province and removed the oil fields altogether from southern administrative jurisdiction. Nimeiri's greed for power remained unrestrained. In a flagrant breach of the Addis Ababa Agreement, the southern region was re-divided into three new regions, and the central government began sponsoring, organising and arming tribal militias in the south. The justification for this policy was that the state was crippled by economic crisis and was unable to execute its peacekeeping duties. The irony was that these measures were all carried out under the pretext of maintaining unity in the region and consolidating national sovereignty.

The final nail was driven in the coffin of the Addis Ababa agreement in 1983, when Nimeiri imposed his version of the Islamic Laws-the notorious September Laws. The injection of religion into a long list of government policies abhorred by the majority of the southern population, intensified the south's feelings of alienation and estrangement and fanned the flames of the civil war, which was launched again by the SPLM in 1983. Nimeiri's decision surprised only those who believed that the 1972 Agreement was motivated by his commitment to peace and national unity. Mansour Khalid, an architect of the agreement, was not puzzled for, as he pointed out, "Nimeiri had never been genuinely committed to the principles of the Addis Ababa Agreement." He recalled Nimeiri's own words when asked about procedures for amending the agreement: "The Addis Ababa agreement is myself and Joseph Lagu and we want it that way...I am 300 per cent the constitution. I do not know of any plebiscite because I am mandated by the people as President."

Basically, this combination of arrogance, despotism and unpredictability coupled with the spread of corruption opened the regime up to opposition in the north from both ends of the political spectrum. The repeated rejections of Nimeiri's plans by the Regional Assembly may also have increased his frustration and isolation. In face of this rising opposition, Nimeiri coveted the heavenly legitimacy bestowed by Islam on an Imam, and the blind loyalty of all Muslim subjects that came with the title. These were the ambitions of a despot who could observe his powers shrinking. The introduction of the laws was a desperate act. But it was the desperate act of a politician, not a holy man. These laws rendered political opponents ungodly individuals inspired by the devil. In a further attempt to consolidate his grip on power, Nimeiri declared martial law "...to protect the faith and the fatherland from schemes of schemers and the mischief of Satan."

The manner with which Nimeiri changed directions points out the danger of believing that military rule can enforce the consensus that eludes elected representatives. The decisiveness attributed to men in uniform comes with a high price. Dictators impose their will; they coerce and intimidate. Whatever consensus exists under such regimes is artificial and therefore transient. In 1972, several western countries, church organisations and African leaders facilitated the successful conclusion of the Addis Ababa Agreement but they could not prevent its abrogation. The one lesson that should not be lost from the Addis Ababa agreement is best captured by Elias N. Wakson: "...that lasting peace, establishing the basis of political stability and good government, cannot be achieved by illegitimate military dictators but only as the outcome of a broad-based dialogue of all the popular political forces in the country.

By early 1985, fighting in the south had escalated to previously unknown levels of death and destruction. Khartoum, as indeed several other urban areas, overflowed with citizens displaced by the conflict in the south and the encroaching famine, all searching for security, shelter and food. Modern Sudan had not experienced such conditions before, and the state system lacked the material resources necessary for any effective response since expenditure on the war devoured more than double the allocations for education and health. Meanwhile, the military junta continued to terrorise and humiliate citizens by using the September laws to detain individuals indefinitely, to carry out public floggings, to amputate hands and to crucify those charged with heresy. Challenged by these conditions, major trade unions, professional associations, and student bodies formed the Trade Union Alliance (TUA) to co-ordinate their opposition to the regime.

Within a period of a few months, the unions established an extensive clandestine network of banned political parties, women and youth associations as well as cells within the army and police. In April 1985, massive demonstrations preceded a TUA general strike that paralysed the entire country and forced the downfall of Nimeiri. On the eve of the regime's collapse, the TUA and political parties formed a broad front, the National Alliance for National Salvation (NANS), that agreed on an interim program. Entitled 'Charter of April Uprising,' the program listed the popular goals of democracy, peace, secular laws, human rights, rule of law and a national egalitarian economic policy. Responsibility for implementing these demands rested with the interim cabinet which was formed by NANS in 1985 and entrusted to hold national elections before the end of its one year term. However, just as in 1964, the sectarian parties questioned the Transitional Government's (TG) mandate to implement the Charter and called for early elections. The UP won a majority of the seats and Sadiq el-Mahdi became Prime Minister in May 1986.

In an attempt to break the vicious circle of recurrent conflict that had plagued Sudan for almost two decades, the TUA became directly involved in the search for a durable settlement. After about six months of continuous contacts, NANS and the SPLM held meetings in Ethiopia that culminated in the Kokadam Declaration of 1986. The statement affirmed "... a democratic consensus by the secular forces of the whole of Sudan on settling the war through a National Constitutional Conference." While all of the unions and associations of the TUA showed a deep commitment to the peace dialogue, the behaviour of the two main sectarian parties remained at best uncertain. Although the patron of the DUP personally supported the initial contact, a few months before Kokadam, he issued a public denunciation of TUA for not informing him of the initiative. Likewise, the UP representative signed the Kokadam declaration with the personal approval of his leader, the Prime Minister, who later claimed in public he was never consulted.

The Kokadam Declaration was a political landmark in the country's modern history. It proved that there is a national potential and a force for peace in the Sudan. For the first time in the history of the civil war, popular organisations in the north established direct links with the southern armed movement and agreed on a joint peace program. The leader of the SPLM perceived that it had "...laid a solid foundation for the peace process. Kokadam is a purely Sudanese experience which will go down in history as a magnificent achievement of great significance, for it proved to the whole world that the Sudanese alone can discuss their problems freely and arrive at concrete proposals regarding their resolution." The declaration targeted the uneven political, economic and constitutional relations that reproduced the conflict. In so doing, Kokadam challenged the structures that propped up the political elite. By calling for change and linking it to an end in the conflict, peace represented a threat to the established order and to those who benefited from it. Little wonder then that the dominant power bloc could not support the Kokadam program or its vision of peace and that it intensified its war efforts in the south.

Towards the end of 1988, Prime Minister el Mahdi, leader of the Umma party, with about one third of the seats in parliament, formed his fourth coalition within two years, in which the extremist National Islamic Front (NIF) became a main partner. This development, explained by el Mahdi in terms of strengthening the internal front (as opposed to the externally supported SPLM), led instead to further divisions. On the one hand, the NIF, the only political organisation left out of NANS, had not only broken ranks with the opposition forces in the late 70s, but also staunchly supported Nimeiri's infamous September laws. On the other hand, el Mahdi, a founding member of NANS, had repeatedly promised to 'sweep September Laws to the dustbin of history' and 'eradicate all remnants of the May regime.'

Indignation against the Prime Minister intensified mainly because he reneged on earlier pledges and because of his active rehabilitation of the NIF, whose leader secured the same cabinet portfolio of Justice that he had held under Nimeiri. The government crisis was further complicated by the political jolt it received from the DUP which was a partner in the ruling coalition. In an embarrassing move for the Prime Minister, the DUP signed a peace program with the SPLM. The November 1988 Sudanese Peace Initiative (SPI) was basically an endorsement of the Kokadam Declaration to which the DUP had not been a party. Tension within the government mounted following the angry reaction of the NIF against the SPI: "...we regret the capitulation agreement because it is an unequivocable recognition of the rebellion...We will not allow anyone with the military establishment to have loyalty to anyone but God and country."

Such setbacks coupled with the Prime Minister's indecision about peace and his muddled economic policies deepened the schism between the sectarian parties and the TUA. Before the end of 1988, an even sharper polarisation emerged between the two groups over increases in the prices of food, and the stonewalling of the SPI. These developments reinforced TUA links with organisations of women, students and marginal communities. They launched a campaign involving the writing of memorandums, and the mounting of protest rallies, demonstrations and strikes to pressure the Prime Minister into honouring his commitment to NANS, its April 1985 Charter, the Kokadam Peace Declaration, the SPI, and the National Economic Program. Although the massive protests of December 1988, accelerated the peace process, it also drove the NIF into, what one of their foreign consultants described as, a "now or never" condition.

An extremely unstable and volatile situation emerged which induced the army to issue an ultimatum and thus press the Prime Minister into assembling a broad-based government of national unity. All previous attempts at peace-making by non-Sudanese third parties, whether states, organisations or individuals had failed to bring Prime Minister el Mahdi to the bargaining table. In the end, it was the actions of his Defence Minister and the Chief of Staff of the armed forces that constituted the turning point in the peace process. Formed in March 1989, the United National Front Government included the political parties of NANS and the TUA, but was boycotted by NIF, which subsequently walked out of parliament. Almost immediately the new government remodelled its economic policies, and set about implementing the SPI to induce a cease-fire in the south and pave the way for a settlement. A newly formed Peace Ministerial Committee proposed to replace Nimeiri's Islamist Code with a new set of laws that were drafted by a panel of eminent Sudanese jurists and approved by the Government's Attorney General and his assistants. On the day of the emergency meeting called for the Cabinet to approve these alternative laws, officers loyal to the NIF backed by its militias mobilised units of the army and took over political power.

VI. Talking Without Negotiating: The NIF Regime

In one of his first announcements Brigadier Omar Hassan al-Basher scrapped the Sudan Peace Initiative as the basis for negotiations, and in the weeks and years to follow his government intensified military operations in the south with the clear aim of defeating the SPLA. Khartoum was aided in this process by the fall of the Mengistu regime in Addis Ababa and the subsequent expulsion of the SPLA from Ethiopia. Divisions within the ranks of the SPLM further weakened the south to the point that Government forces, now reinforced by arms from Iran, Iraq and China, were able to recapture many of the territories previously held by the SPLA.

At the same time that he waged all-out war against the south, Basher stated that his new government's "primary goal is peace," declaring a one-month cease-fire, offering a general amnesty and arranging for an early meeting in Ethiopia with the SPLA. Indeed, over the past six years, the Sudanese regime has actively solicited and engaged more third party mediation than at any other time in the history of the conflict. Yet all these initiatives have come to naught as the government in Khartoum has remained more interested in talking about peace than negotiating it. Of course, the reasons for this tactic are not difficult to understand, given the regime's need to undermine the international community's boycott of the Sudan, and to divert attention from its escalation of the war. The regime will continue to capitalise on the popular yearning and international sentiment for peace talks, as long as they remain "talks." Once discussions move to substantive issues, and negotiations are about to begin, the process will come to a halt. This is the lesson of all past "talks." After all, there are no costs involved in exploiting international goodwill and interest in peace. On the contrary, it provides good press and buys more time. The meetings sponsored by the OAU in Abuja were dragged out over two years, whereas the subsequent Inter-govermental Authority on Draught and Development (IGADD) initiative has entered its fourth year. Both "talks" reached a deadlock. Evidently then, Bona Malwal was not completely sarcastic when he warned against the 'Abujanization of IGADD.'

In March 1995, the American Under-Secretary of State for African Affairs informed the US Congress that IGADD was 'stalemated' as a result of the regime's intransigence. Not coincidentally, the Sudan Government shifted the focus of its attention from the IGADD initiative to the good auspices of President Carter, who arranged a misguided cease fire. Simultaneously, Khartoum has made public overtures for Dutch and Scandinavian mediation. Of course, it would be cynical to suggest that the regime is not interested in peace. The present regime, like earlier ones, wants an end to the conflict, but on its own terms and without the political compromise that peace demands. Members of Basher’s junta have publicly acknowledged that their 1989 coup was timed to prevent the Government decision to implement the SPI. Lacking a political will to negotiate a genuine settlement, the present regime in Khartoum uses negotiations for public relations purposes. Its uncompromising stance in the peace talks owes more to its doctrinaire commitment than to any power shift on the battlefield.

The NIF regime has transformed the conflict into a religious struggle and a holy war to establish a theocratic state, even to the extent of exporting its own version of Islam to neighbouring states. This is not a new development. Since its inception in 1985 and throughout the parliamentary period that ended in 1989, the NIF has refused to negotiate a compromise, opposed every peace initiative and continued to beat the drums of war. But the influence of the party on the Sudanese state and civil society dates back before even 1985. Nimeiri's national reconciliation policy of 1977 offered the Islamist extremists a major breakthrough to exercise systematic influence on Sudanese society. One consequence of such influence, as explained by an American Psychologist retained by the NIF for four years in Sudan, was that "A culture is created that compels people to adopt to the conflict as an almost permanent feature of life." In that culture "The southerner is reduced to a challenge, an obstacle to be overcome." This perception is explained by a leading NIF Politburo member and a former Minister of Interior in Nimeiri's cabinet: "Most of its (the south) inhabitants are heathens who worship stones, trees, crocodiles, the sun, etc...All this presents a civilised challenge to all of us as Arabs, because there were heathens and Jews at the time of the Prophet, and we know how the Muslims treated Christians and Jews. Southerners are not credited with a sense of historic development or progressive engagement with the world." As the NIF consultant noted, “Not even the language through which the conflict is talked about can be negotiated, let alone the terms of a solution, because the Islamist owes No Allegiance to Anyone But God”. The failure to understand this outlook and its irreconcilability with the alternative vision of the SPLM and the forces of democracy in the north can only perpetuate the pattern of stalemated and deadlocked peace meetings. Those concerned with ending the war in Sudan are advised to seek new approaches to accelerate the process of peace, for as long as the NIF remains in power it will never amount to anything other than 'talks without negotiations.'

VII. Conclusion

Over the past two decades the focus of the conflict has shifted from a 'regional protest' against political marginalization, economic neglect and cultural domination, to a clash of visions and competing definitions not just of the south but of the whole country. Failing to understand this phenomenal change, the northern ruling elite have remained incapable of recognising the necessary elements of any negotiations that are likely to succeed. During 1985-89, in meetings between the SPLM and the ruling Umma Party, the latter invariably posed questions about the number of ministerial portfolios that the Movement would want instead of examining modalities of restructuring the Sudanese state system. These offers persisted despite the SPLM's rejection of the idea. While such an approach might have helped to resolve the conflict in 1972, by 1985 it fell short of the minimal requirements.

Consequently, any negotiations in future will have to be qualitatively different from those conducted at any time in the past. Neither the Round Table nor the Addis Ababa framework can be repeated; that is to say, a context of negotiations in which administrative concessions are handed out is no longer applicable. The starting point of any such discussions must begin with the recognition of self-determination and the acceptance of a secular state. Since all northern opposition forces have recognised these rights, any retreat from these positions will destroy whatever confidence is left.

The ideological divide is not, therefore, along north-south lines, but between those who aspire to a new Sudan and those who want minimal changes to the status quo. It is this line that places the NIF on one side and the SPLM and 'new' popular forces on the other side. The sectarian and traditional parties indicate at present their solidarity with the new Sudan but objectively they are a product of the old structures and relations. Their past record certainly does not inspire confidence. After the overthrow of military regimes in 1964 and 1985, the sectarian parties reneged on their prior commitment to peaceful settlement. Not surprisingly, then, the popular forces are suspicious of the depth of the sectarian parties’ commitment to a new Sudan. If the NIF were to make the “necessary” amends, an accommodation similar to the one fashioned by the Nimeiri regime could be reached.

Over the past thirty years, following the downfall of Sudan’s first military dictatorship, certain institutions of civil society such as the trade unions, women, student and professional associations have played an increasingly dynamic role in national politics. This development coupled with the rise of the SPLM has precipitated several realignments within political and popular forces, which in turn, has led to a gradual transformation in national perceptions of the civil war. In effect, the Kokadam Declaration denoted the changing views of the ‘new forces’ and their commitment to the socio-political and economic restructuring of the country. At the same time, as noted above, the sectarian parties continued to blame external forces and their agents for the war in the south. In this sense, the civil war connotes more than the conflict of identities that Francis Deng examined in his War of Visions. Ignoring the existence of these competing views in the north between the popular forces and the sectarian traditional camp can not be conducive to the search for a lasting peace.

If the conflict is to be resolved, there must be a genuine change in the perception of the roots of the conflict. Primarily, this requires a shift in the traditional elite's emphasis on external forces to a focus on the internal factors that we have discussed. The roots of Sudan's civil war are not located in the regional or international environment, but rather within Sudan. External factors have played a role in Sudan's civil war, but their influence has tended to be felt during the latter stages of the conflict. Once the fighting began, external involvement all too often strengthened the resolve of one or both parties to pursue a military option rather than seek a negotiated settlement. On occasion, notably in 1972, external factors facilitated the reaching of an accord, although since 1985, all efforts on the part of third parties to resolve the conflict have ended in failure. Finally, the international community might have exerted more pressure on Khartoum than it did to honour the letter and spirit of the Addis Ababa accord, and thus build an enduring peace once the war had ended.

In the meantime, there is a real and present danger that the Sudan may share a fate similar to what has befallen Somalia and Liberia. This danger of collapse does not arise from the civil war alone or its prolongation, although these are crucial factors in accelerating the process of disintegration. The situation is further accentuated by the cumulative tensions and pressures engendered by the security, economic and other measures introduced by successive regimes, all of which operate in a rapidly degrading physical and social environment.

For some years prior to the outbreak of the civil war in Doe's Liberia and in Somalia under Siad Barre the arming of militias became government policy. The same policy was introduced to southern Sudan by Prime Minister Mahjoub in 1965, and was later institutionalised by General Nimeiri who embraced the 'Friendly Forces' of Anya-Nya II. However, it was the elected UP government of Sadiq el Mahdi that extended the arming of 'al-Maraheel' tribal militias to Western provinces. As this policy coincided with an intensification of the civil war in Chad and an overflow of arms into the Sudan, it led to a virtual disintegration of legitimate authority in Darfur Province. The present NIF military regime has rendered the situation even worse by declaring its objective of arming one million Sudanese before the end of 1996. In fact, the militarization of Sudanese society is well underway with the establishment of various militia organisations such as the Popular Defence Forces and Popular Police along with well-armed NIF cadres that participated in the 1989 coup. The recent “peace” agreement between the NIF and Riek Machar’s Southern Sudan Independence Movement (SSIM) is a further example of Khartoum’s strategy of intensifying armed conflict among southerners.

Clearly these developments bode ill for the country; more so, when Sudan's rural economy which engages about eighty percent of the population, is facing the disastrous conditions created by government policies as well as the physical degradation of the soil, the encroachment of the desert, and shifting patterns of rainfall. These factors have reduced Sudanese exports by seventy-five percent, while "Inflation has reached four digits, the national currency has been devalued by 6000%,...80% of the factories have closed." Moreover, as a consequence of the Sudanese state's financial crisis, all basic social, health and educational services have faded away and the only non-governmental organisations allowed to operate are those affiliated with the NIF. Evidently, the bureaucratic, constitutional and administrative framework of the Sudanese state can not meet the needs of its citizens. For many years this fact has been tragically confirmed by the civil war in the south.

The once vibrant Sudanese trade unions, professional associations, women, youth and regional organisations as well as all non-NIF associations were banned. By such action the regime had hoped to subdue the popular forces and undermine their political and social prowess that was instrumental in the downfall of army rule in 1964 and 1985. Understandably, the NIF purges and reign of terror have reduced the power of these forces and curtailed the autonomy of civil society. It has become increasingly difficult to distinguish between private and public space under the current government. In view of these conditions, the possibilities for reform appear negligible. Yet popular challenges to the government persist with new forms of activities and new organisational methods emerging. In September of 1995 the NIF almost lost control over the capital for several days to rioting students and youth groups. Obviously, the organs of civil society are reconstructing themselves and forging common ground and discovering new civic demands as well as new tactics.

From the NIF perspective, most menacing of these development is the creation in 1995 of the Sudan Alliance Forces (SAF). This military and political movement includes many of the activists from the army, trade unions, professional associations, police, women's and students' groups involved in the 1985 Uprising against General Nimeiri and against the war in the south. SAF expresses a view of the country that appears closer to the SPLM than to other parties in the north, by declaring that: "Our commitment is to end the civil war in the south and for the resolution of all other conflicts in our country. ...We can not reach these objectives without addressing the social, economic, racial and cultural injustices and inequalities that are the root causes of these conflicts. SAF is dedicated to a Sudan that is confident of its identity, proud of its diversity and can uphold, promote and protect the human dignity of all Sudanese. Our Sudan is one that is at peace with itself, its neighbours and the rest of the world." In a move that markes a transition in the civil war, SAF has recently opened up a military front along the borders with Eritrea and Ethiopia.

Building an enduring peace is largely dependent on the capacity of these and other forces, in both the south and the north, to converge. The challenge is not only the military defeat of the NIF and ending its tyranny but the articulation of the national aspiration of peace, democracy, justice and development. Attaining these objectives entails also liberation from racial and religious prejudices, mutual fear and suspicion and the forging of a national identity embracing all ethnic and cultural groups in the country. Ultimately, it is with the popular masses in both the south and the north that the resolution of the conflict and the future of Sudan lie.
 
 

Endnotes

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