Six Months into War, Sudanese Seek Refuge outside Chaotic Capital

Smoke rises over Khartoum, Sudan, on June 8, 2023, as fighting between the Sudanese army and paramilitary Rapid Support Forces continues. (AP)
Smoke rises over Khartoum, Sudan, on June 8, 2023, as fighting between the Sudanese army and paramilitary Rapid Support Forces continues. (AP)
TT

Six Months into War, Sudanese Seek Refuge outside Chaotic Capital

Smoke rises over Khartoum, Sudan, on June 8, 2023, as fighting between the Sudanese army and paramilitary Rapid Support Forces continues. (AP)
Smoke rises over Khartoum, Sudan, on June 8, 2023, as fighting between the Sudanese army and paramilitary Rapid Support Forces continues. (AP)

Six months after tensions between rival Sudanese generals ignited a devastating war, thousands lie dead, millions are displaced, and the once-thriving capital, Khartoum, is a shadow of its past glory.

When the first bombs fell on April 15, the capital's residents looked on in terror as entire neighborhoods were razed and essential services were paralyzed, exacerbating their misery.

Those who could escape the bloodshed and destruction rushed to the Red Sea coast about 1,000 kilometers (621 miles) to the east.

Port Sudan, now home to Sudan's only functioning airport, became a sanctuary for fleeing civilians and a transit hub for foreigners leaving the northeast African country.

Its rows of white colonial buildings were quickly filled with those who left Khartoum, including United Nations staff and government officials setting up makeshift offices.

In late August, they were joined by army chief Abdel Fattah al-Burhan, whose fighters are pitted against those of his former deputy Mohamed Hamdan Daglo, commander of the paramilitary Rapid Support Forces (RSF) in the conflict.

Burhan, the de facto leader of Sudan since leading a 2021 coup, had spent over four months stuck inside the army headquarters in Khartoum, besieged by Daglo's men.

But even though he has left Khartoum, there has been no let-up in fighting for the capital, as well as the western region of Darfur, where allegations of ethnically motivated attacks have led to an international war crimes investigation.

The United Nations' Human Rights Council voted Wednesday to set up an independent fact-finding mission to probe the accusations.

'Life doesn't stop'

Despite the exodus, millions of people have had little choice but to stay in Khartoum, where their bullet-scarred homes are shaken by daily blasts.

A constant plume of smoke now defines the capital's skyline, while businesses and warehouses lie abandoned, ransacked, and charred.

Before the war, the capital's three districts -- Khartoum, Omdurman and Khartoum North -- were the center of power, infrastructure and industry in the country of 48 million people.

"The war has shown just how much Khartoum had monopolized everything, (and) that's why the banks, the companies and all government stopped working," said urban planner Tarek Ahmed.

But economic analyst Omaima Khaled said that did not mean life had come to a halt.

With no end to the war in sight, "there had to be somewhere else where people's affairs could be managed," she said, and the obvious choice was Port Sudan -- a safe and well-connected city.

"It's first of all geographically far from the war," said Khaled, with fighting mainly taking place in the capital and the western region of Darfur.

It also has a long history of being "Sudan's second largest commercial center," she said, which could "very well make it an economic capital".

But Port Sudan has one crucial flaw: "it's 3,000 kilometers from the country's western border and 2,500 kilometers from its south, in a country that severely lacks an efficient transport network," said the economist.

Sudan's dilapidated road network is as highly centralized as the economy. Avoiding the war-torn capital requires massive circuitous routes around a country three times the size of France.

But the problems do not stop there, according to Port Sudan resident Hend Saleh.

"There's a shortage of drinking water and electricity," she told AFP, with the coastal town's already fragile infrastructure now catering to tens of thousands more.

Port Sudan -- founded in 1905 by British rulers to replace the historic port of Suakin, 60 kilometers away -- "is newer than other Sudanese cities and has a better urban plan and a better service network," according to engineer Fathi Yassin.

But it is burdened by the same shortfalls as the rest of Sudan, where decades of dilapidated infrastructure are adding to the immense impact of war.

Sudan's rainy season, which begins in June, has wreaked havoc on vast swathes of the country, with hundreds dying of cholera and dengue fever while 70 percent of hospitals remain out of service, the United Nations has said.

War spreading south

Unlike other Sudanese cities that draw water from the Nile, Port Sudan relies almost entirely on increasingly unpredictable rainfall.

Its residents have long demanded a connection to the river, which would require 500 kilometers of pipes -- an expense Sudan, already one of the poorest countries in the world before the war, has never been able to afford.

Closer to the Nile, the city of Wad Madani -- 200 kilometers south of Khartoum -- has also emerged as a potential capital.

Wad Madani, the capital Al Jazira state in the fertile heartland south of Khartoum, was the first destination for fleeing Khartoum families in the early weeks of the war.

The state now hosts more than 366,000 displaced people, in a thin string of villages between Khartoum and Wad Madani, as well as the state capital itself.

Interim governor Ismail Awadallah said the city also looked set to absorb more of the economy, with "17 large companies discussing their relocation and even expansion in Wad Madani".

But Wad Madani's economic potential might remain unfulfilled, as the fighting in Khartoum encroaches south.

Authorities on Wednesday announced paramilitaries had taken control of large areas of the Gezira agricultural scheme, only around 35 kilometers northwest of Wad Madani.



Israel Strikes Near Lebanon Border Choke off Syria Lifeline

People fleeing Israeli bombings in Lebanon wait to cross the border with Syria through the Masnaa crossing is eastern Lebanon - AFP
People fleeing Israeli bombings in Lebanon wait to cross the border with Syria through the Masnaa crossing is eastern Lebanon - AFP
TT

Israel Strikes Near Lebanon Border Choke off Syria Lifeline

People fleeing Israeli bombings in Lebanon wait to cross the border with Syria through the Masnaa crossing is eastern Lebanon - AFP
People fleeing Israeli bombings in Lebanon wait to cross the border with Syria through the Masnaa crossing is eastern Lebanon - AFP

When Israel bombed the Lebanese-Syrian border, it cut off a key route for many in Syria who rely on it as a vital link to the outside world.

For years, Lebanon's main border crossing with Syria has served as a key access point for international travel, healthcare and purchasing imported goods.

Today, those who wish to use the crossing known as Masnaa must climb down into and walk across a massive crater in the road, which is 10 meters (32 feet) deep and 30 meters (nearly 100 feet) wide.

Israel hit near the crossing on October 4, accusing Lebanese Hezbollah of using it to transport military equipment from its main backer Iran, through its ally Syria, and into Lebanon.

But the strike has made it harder for thousands of people trying to flee war in Lebanon to Syria.

The Israel-Hezbollah war erupted late last month after nearly a year of exchanges of fire over the war in Gaza.

Earlier this month, after undergoing surgery in the Syrian capital, Reem al-Ajami, a 67-year-old Syrian woman, hired a car to drive to the crossing to try to reach Beirut for a flight to visit her daughter in Greece.

- Vital for trade -

Athens, like many other international destinations, has not been serviced by Syria's airports since the start of the country's civil war in 2011.

"When we reached the crater, Red Crescent volunteers helped me cross it in a wheelchair," Ajami told AFP, saying she saw hundreds of people travelling in the opposite way to escape the war in Lebanon.

Her luggage was carried by hired help across the ditch that was so ragged that she said she almost fell off her wheelchair as she was pushed through.

Another driver was waiting on the other side to transport Ajami to Beirut's airport.

The land journey cost Ajami $400 dollars -- more than the $320 plane ticket she purchased from Beirut to Athens, she said.

The crossing is located on the main international road linking Beirut and Damascus.

In Lebanon, Israeli warplanes have pounded the area around the road as part of their campaign against Hezbollah.

Despite the strikes, Lebanon says more than 460,000 people have crossed into Syria since September 23, most of them Syrian nationals.

"Before, the trip cost between $100 and $150. Today, it is between $400 and $500," Ali al-Mawla, a 31-year-old taxi driver, told AFP.

- Black market -

"You have to change cars, cross the crater and face the dangers on the road," Mawla said, explaining why no driver would accept less than triple the journey's initial cost.

Business, however, has not slowed because the road is vital "for both countries", Mawla said, as it acts as the key artery for Lebanon's exports.

With their country under sanctions, Syrians have relied on the crossing to travel to Lebanon, where they can submit a visa application in embassies that have deserted Damascus, or stock up on medicines and consumer products they can't find back home.

"Our cars heading to Damascus were always loaded with foreign medicines, unavailable technical equipment and fuel tanks," Mawla said.

The strike has also impacted the Syrian economy, with fuel shortages boosting a black market that has long relied on smuggling routes from Lebanon to beef up supply.

Since the strike on Masnaa, the price of one liter of fuel has climbed from 20,000 Syrian pounds (around $1.50) to 30,000, an increase that has also caused a spike in transport costs.