Sudan Between the Army of the State and the State of the Army

Ambassador Adel Ibrahim Mustafa reflects on reports from Sudanese newspapers regarding the return of gasoline queues to Khartoum and the accompanying complaints of regular security personnel bypassing these queues to obtain fuel without adhering to the regulations that bind other citizens. Such a scene might appear trivial, and some may see it as merely individual behavior not worth more than condemnation. However, small details sometimes encapsulate large crises and reveal a dysfunction deeper than what the surface behavior suggests. The problem is not that one person jumped a queue for a gallon of gasoline, but the motive behind this action. If the uniform they wear is what gives them the feeling that they can get ahead of others, the matter transcends individual violation and points to a distorted perception of the relationship between authority and the citizen. Here, a legitimate question arises: How can a man wearing the uniform of an institution whose hallmark is supposed to be discipline view this uniform as a privilege that allows him to bypass others? True military discipline is not limited to executing orders from above; it includes respecting the law, self-control, respecting the citizen, and not using authority, rank, or weapons for personal gain. Indeed, those who hold exceptional authority in the name of the state are expected to be more committed to the law, not less. If a citizen spends hours in a fuel queue under the sun, or spends their night in it, and then someone in uniform cuts ahead, the message received is not just about who got gas first, but about whether the law applies to everyone equally. This is where the story begins to transcend the gas queue, because the feeling among some in authority that their uniform or rank grants them privilege is not born in a vacuum. It is often a reflection of a wider culture formed over decades, where the concept of authority became conflated with the concept of privilege, and the presence of the military institution in the public sphere became so familiar that the lines between the state and its institutions, and between the military and political authority, became blurred at various stages. Therefore, we should look at Sudan's modern history. Since the 1958 coup by Ibrahim Abboud, followed by Gaafar Nimeiry in 1969, Omar al-Bashir in 1989, and up to the October 25, 2021, coup, the military's interference in politics is no longer a series of isolated incidents. With these repeated experiences, a dangerous idea has taken root in the Sudanese political consciousness: that the army can be an exit strategy whenever politics falters or civilian governments fail to manage the country's crises. This is one of the roots of the problem. Military interference in politics was not always the result of the military's own desire to rule, but also arose in a political and social environment that permitted it, sometimes encouraged it, or accepted it as a temporary solution to an intractable political crisis. When parties fail to reach a consensus, civilian governments struggle to address economic and security crises, state institutions weaken, and political differences turn into conflicts that threaten the country's stability, someone always emerges to see the military as the party capable of decisive action and restoring order. Thus, the army, instead of being outside the competition for power, becomes part of the political calculations themselves. Consequently, the responsibility does not fall solely on the military establishment; political and civilian forces also bear a share of the responsibility whenever they resort to the army to settle their conflicts, or treat its interference as legitimate when it serves their interests, only to reject it when the balance of power shifts. Democracy is not protected by the army alone, nor can the army withdraw from politics sustainably if political forces themselves continue to view it as a potential arbiter in their crises. Therefore, the problem is deeper than just asking: Why does the army stage coups? The more important question is: Why have coups become a recurring option in Sudan, and why has the political environment continued to permit their reproduction? The Sudanese experience has proven that resorting to the army was never a permanent solution. Coups did not build a stable state, did not end political crises, did not stop wars, and did not prevent divisions. Conversely, repeated military intervention contributed to weakening civilian institutions, disrupting the development of party life, and eroding trust in the peaceful transfer of power, while making the military institution itself a party to a struggle it should remain above. Thus, the cycle repeated: political crisis, then military intervention, then military rule, then popular resistance, then a return to civilian life, then a new crisis, then the ghost of military intervention returning. Each time, the state lost something of its institutions, society lost some of its trust, and civilian politics became increasingly fragile. This leads us to a big, and perhaps uncomfortable, question: In its long presence in the political sphere, has the Sudanese army begun to view itself not merely as an institution of the state, but as one of the parties that has the right to determine the path of the state? The question does not diminish the status of the armed forces, but rather highlights the necessity of distinguishing between the army's place within the state and its role in managing the state. The army is an essential national institution, but it is not a substitute for political institutions. Military rank is a responsibility, not a civilian privilege. Weapons are a tool to protect the state, not a means to participate in the competition for power. The military uniform is a symbol of service to the homeland, not a permit to break the law. In a democratic state, the soldier carries exceptional responsibility because the state has granted them exceptional powers. Therefore, standards of discipline, accountability, and respect for the law within the military should be stricter, not less. Sudan has paid a heavy price due to the unstable relationship between the military and politics. Democratic experiments that could have evolved over time were wasted, parties and civilian institutions were weakened, the idea of peaceful transition of power receded, and armed force was used at various stages of political history as a tool to resolve power struggles. Furthermore, decades of political and military conflict, alongside historical and economic factors, contributed to weakening the state and tearing the national fabric, leading to long wars and conflicts in different parts of the country, most notably Darfur, South Kordofan, and Blue Nile, as well as the long war that ended in the secession of South Sudan. Hence, reforming the relationship between the army and politics should not be understood as a stance against the armed forces, but as an attempt to protect the institution itself from the burdens imposed by its involvement in political conflict. Whenever the military becomes a party to power struggles, it necessarily suffers losses in its professional image and its relationship with society. The further it stays from political conflict, the clearer and more respected its ability to perform its primary mission becomes. Therefore, it is not enough to say we want a professional army and then settle for sending it back to the barracks. What is required is deeper: rebuilding the relationship between the army, the state, and society on a clear basis that defines the function of the military and the limits of its role, restores politics to civilian institutions, and simultaneously ensures that the armed forces are strong and capable of performing their duty to protect the homeland. This requires, above all, developing a clear concept of military doctrine. The military doctrine needed by post-October 25, 2021, Sudan and the war it caused should make the protection of the constitution, the rule of law, national integrity, respect for the citizen, commitment to an elected civilian government, and non-interference in political competition an integral part of the armed forces' mission. It must be clear to the soldier that the elected civilian government is not an opponent of the army, that parliament is not its opponent, that the press is not its enemy, and that the citizen who opposes the government is not an enemy of the state. The army is not measured only by its ability to confront an external enemy, but also by its ability to regulate the use of force within the state, and to distinguish between protecting the homeland and protecting political authority. The army's mission is to protect the state, its institutions, and its people, not to protect governments from their people. Furthermore, reforming the military establishment does not begin with laws and doctrines alone, but with daily behavior. It begins with respecting the citizen, respecting queues, not exploiting the uniform or rank to obtain special treatment, and adhering to the law even when no one is watching. This might seem like a small detail, but in reality, it is part of building trust between the military and society. Citizens do not test the state's relationship with them through constitutions and texts alone, but also through the details of their daily lives. When a citizen sees that someone in uniform can jump a queue simply because they wear that uniform, the image of the law in their mind is affected, even if the matter seems simple. Thus, respecting the citizen is not a protocol issue, but part of military professionalism itself. The true strength of the army is not measured by the number of tanks, planes, and weapons alone, but by the extent of the institution's professionalism and discipline, its ability to use force within the framework of the law, and the society's trust in it. We want an army strong enough to protect the country's borders and sovereignty, professional enough to stay away from political competition, disciplined enough to respect the citizen, and patriotic enough to realize that the state is greater than any institution, the constitution is higher than any individual, and that Sudan is a homeland for all its children. Conversely, political and civilian forces also need to shoulder their responsibilities. Building a civilian state does not mean demanding change from the army alone; it also means that parties must evolve, increase their ability to reach consensus, respect the rules of democratic competition, and abandon the idea of seeking military help whenever the political process stalls. Democracy does not stabilize simply by keeping the army away from politics; it requires civilian politics capable of managing conflict, parties capable of practicing democracy internally, state institutions that enjoy respect, and a society that believes that changing governments happens through elections and institutions, not through force. Hence, reforming the army and the security apparatus should be seen as part of a broader project to rebuild the Sudanese state, not as a demand directed against the armed forces. Rescuing the military establishment from political polarization is, in essence, protecting it from the professional and moral erosion that can afflict any institution when it becomes a party to the struggle for power. Returning the soldier to their natural position in service to the state and the citizen is not a diminishment of their status, but a restoration of the honor of the military profession. Sudan has paid a high price due to the intermingling of weapons and politics. Perhaps one of the most important lessons we should learn after all these decades is that a civilian state does not mean a state without an army, just as a national army does not mean a state ruled by the army. Quite the opposite. The more professional, disciplined, and removed from political competition the army becomes, the stronger the state becomes, the more secure democracy becomes, and the more confident the citizen becomes that the law protects them, not that authority can bypass them. Therefore, the fuel queue, no matter how fleeting it seems, poses a question far greater than gasoline: Do we want an army in Sudan that rules the citizen, or an army that protects the citizen? The answer should not be a choice between the army and the state, but a choice for a state where the army is a respected part of its institutions, not a substitute for them; strong in protecting the homeland, professional in performing its mission, disciplined before the law, and far from the struggle for power. That is the army Sudan needs, and that is the state the Sudanese people deserve.