Sudan's Relentless War: A 70-Year Cycle of Conflict


Army chief Abdel Fattah al-Burhan (left) and RSF leader Mohamed Hamdan Dagalo, known as Hemedti, pictured during their alliance to oust Omar al-Bashir in 2019 (AFP)
Army chief Abdel Fattah al-Burhan (left) and RSF leader Mohamed Hamdan Dagalo, known as Hemedti, pictured during their alliance to oust Omar al-Bashir in 2019 (AFP)
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Sudan's Relentless War: A 70-Year Cycle of Conflict


Army chief Abdel Fattah al-Burhan (left) and RSF leader Mohamed Hamdan Dagalo, known as Hemedti, pictured during their alliance to oust Omar al-Bashir in 2019 (AFP)
Army chief Abdel Fattah al-Burhan (left) and RSF leader Mohamed Hamdan Dagalo, known as Hemedti, pictured during their alliance to oust Omar al-Bashir in 2019 (AFP)

While world conflicts dominate headlines, Sudan’s deepening catastrophe is unfolding largely out of sight; a brutal war that has killed tens of thousands, displaced millions, and flattened entire cities and regions.

More than a year into the conflict, some observers question whether the international community has grown weary of Sudan’s seemingly endless cycles of violence. The country has endured nearly seven decades of civil war, and what is happening now is not an exception, but the latest chapter in a bloody history of rebellion and collapse.

The first of Sudan’s modern wars began even before the country gained independence from Britain. In 1955, army officer Joseph Lagu led the southern “Anyanya” rebellion, named after a venomous snake, launching a guerrilla war that would last until 1972.

A peace agreement brokered by the World Council of Churches and Ethiopia’s late Emperor Haile Selassie ended that conflict with the signing of the Addis Ababa Accord.

But peace proved short-lived. In 1983, then-president Jaafar Nimeiry reignited tensions by announcing the imposition of Islamic Sharia law, known as the “September Laws.” The move prompted the rise of the Sudan People’s Liberation Movement (SPLM), led by John Garang, and a renewed southern insurgency that raged for more than two decades, outliving Nimeiry’s regime.

Under Omar al-Bashir, who seized power in a 1989 military coup, the war took on an Islamist tone. His government declared “jihad” and mobilized civilians in support of the fight, but failed to secure a decisive victory.

The conflict eventually gave way to the 2005 Comprehensive Peace Agreement, better known as the Naivasha Agreement, which was brokered in Kenya and granted South Sudan the right to self-determination.

In 2011, more than 95% of South Sudanese voted to break away from Sudan, giving birth to the world’s newest country, the Republic of South Sudan. The secession marked the culmination of decades of war, which began with demands for a federal system and ended in full-scale conflict. The cost: over 2 million lives lost, and a once-unified nation split in two.

But even before South Sudan’s independence became reality, another brutal conflict had erupted in Sudan’s western Darfur region in 2003. Armed rebel groups from the region took up arms against the central government, accusing it of marginalization and neglect. What followed was a ferocious counterinsurgency campaign that drew global condemnation and triggered a major humanitarian crisis.

As violence escalated, the United Nations deployed one of its largest-ever peacekeeping missions, the African Union-United Nations Hybrid Operation in Darfur (UNAMID), in a bid to stem the bloodshed.

Despite multiple peace deals, including the Juba Agreement signed in October 2020 following the ousting of long-time Islamist ruler, Bashir, fighting never truly ceased.

The Darfur war alone left more than 300,000 people dead and millions displaced. The International Criminal Court charged Bashir and several top officials, including Ahmed Haroun and Abdel Raheem Muhammad Hussein, with war crimes and crimes against humanity.

Alongside the southern conflict, yet another war erupted in 2011, this time in the Nuba Mountains of South Kordofan and the Blue Nile region. The fighting was led by Abdelaziz al-Hilu, head of the Sudan People’s Liberation Movement–North (SPLM–N), a group composed largely of northern fighters who had sided with the South during the earlier civil war under John Garang.

The conflict broke out following contested elections marred by allegations of fraud, and Khartoum’s refusal to implement key provisions of the 2005 Naivasha Agreement, particularly those related to “popular consultations” in the two regions. More than a decade later, war still grips both areas, with no lasting resolution in sight.

Then came April 15, 2023. A fresh war exploded, this time in the heart of the capital, Khartoum, pitting the Sudanese Armed Forces against the powerful paramilitary Rapid Support Forces (RSF). Now entering its third year, the conflict shows no signs of abating.

According to international reports, the war has killed more than 150,000 people and displaced around 13 million, the largest internal displacement crisis on the planet. Over 3 million Sudanese have fled to neighboring countries.

Large swathes of the capital lie in ruins, and entire states have been devastated. With Khartoum no longer viable as a seat of power, the government and military leadership have relocated to the Red Sea city of Port Sudan.

Unlike previous wars, Sudan’s current conflict has no real audience. Global pressure on the warring factions has been minimal. Media coverage is sparse. And despite warnings from the United Nations describing the crisis as “the world’s worst humanitarian catastrophe,” Sudan's descent into chaos remains largely ignored by the international community.



'Too Dangerous to Go to Hospital': A Glimpse into Iran's Protest Crackdown

In this frame grab from video taken by an individual not employed by The Associated Press and obtained by the AP outside Iran shows people blocking an intersection during a protest in Tehran, Iran, Thursday Jan. 8, 2026. (UGC via AP)
In this frame grab from video taken by an individual not employed by The Associated Press and obtained by the AP outside Iran shows people blocking an intersection during a protest in Tehran, Iran, Thursday Jan. 8, 2026. (UGC via AP)
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'Too Dangerous to Go to Hospital': A Glimpse into Iran's Protest Crackdown

In this frame grab from video taken by an individual not employed by The Associated Press and obtained by the AP outside Iran shows people blocking an intersection during a protest in Tehran, Iran, Thursday Jan. 8, 2026. (UGC via AP)
In this frame grab from video taken by an individual not employed by The Associated Press and obtained by the AP outside Iran shows people blocking an intersection during a protest in Tehran, Iran, Thursday Jan. 8, 2026. (UGC via AP)

Young protesters shot in the back, shotgun pellets fired in a doctor's face, wounded people afraid to go to hospital: "Every family has been affected" by the deadly crackdown on Iran's recent wave of demonstrations, said one protester.

Speaking to AFP in Istanbul, this 45-year-old engineer who asked to be identified as Farhad -- not his real name -- was caught up in the mass protests that swept his home city of one million people just outside Tehran.

With Iran still largely under an internet blackout after weeks of unrest, eyewitness testimony is key for understanding how the events unfolded.

Angry demonstrations over economic hardship began late last year and exploded into the biggest anti-government protests since the 1979 Iranian revolution.

"On the first day, there were so many people in the streets that the security forces just kept their distance," he told AFP.

"But on the second day, they understood that without shooting, the people were not going to disperse."

As the protests grew, the security forces began a major crackdown under the cover of a communications blackout that began on January 8.

Sitting inside a church on the European side of Istanbul, this quietly-spoken oil industry worker said he was in his car with his sister on the night when the shooting began.

"We saw about 20 military people jumping from cars and start shooting at young people about 100 meters away. I saw people running but they were shooting at their backs" with rifles and shotguns, he told AFP.

"In front of my eyes, I saw a friend of ours, a doctor, being hit in the face by shotgun pellets," Farhad said. He does not know what happened to him.

Both Amnesty International and Human Rights Watch have accused the security forces of firing rifles and shotguns loaded with metal pellets directly at protesters' heads and torsos.

"I saw two people being carried, they were very badly injured, maybe dead," Farhad said.

A lot of people also died "in their cars because the bullets were coming out of nowhere".

'Afraid to go to hospital'

The scale of the crackdown is only slowly emerging.

Despite great difficulty accessing information, the Norway-based NGO Iran Human Rights says it has verified the deaths of 3,428 protesters killed by the security forces, but warned the true figure could be much higher, citing estimates of "between 5,000 and 20,000".

Those who were injured were often too afraid to go to hospital, Farhad said.

"People can't go to the hospital because the authorities and the police are there. Anyone with injuries from bullets or shotgun (pellets) they detain and interrogate," he said.

"Doctors have been going to people's houses to give them medical assistance."

He himself was beaten with a baton by two people on a motorbike and thought his arm was broken, but did not go to hospital because it was "too dangerous".

Many "opened their homes to let the demonstrators inside and give them first aid", including his sister and her friend who took in "around 50 boys, and gave them tea and cake".

There were a lot of very young people on the streets and "a lot of girls and women", he told AFP, saying he had seen children of "six or seven" shouting slogans against Iran's supreme leader Ali Khamenei.

The security forces were also staging spot checks for anyone with protest-related injuries or footage on their phones, he said.

"It's so dangerous because they randomly check phones. If they see anything related to this revolution, you are finished. They are also making people lift their shirts to look for signs of bullet or shotgun injuries.

"If they see that, they are taken for interrogation."

Speaking just before he flew back to Iran -- "because I have a job to go to" -- he insisted he was "absolutely not afraid".

Despite everything, people were still ready to protest "because they are so angry", he explained.

He is convinced US President Donald Trump will soon make good on his pledge to intervene, pointing to recent reports of US warships arriving in the region.

"The system cannot survive -- in Iran everybody is just overwhelmed with this dictatorship. We have had enough of them."


A US Shift Marked Kurdish-Led Forces’ Fall from Power in Syria

 Syrian government forces patrol inside the al-Hol camp as smoke rises from an arms depot explosion in northeastern Syria's Hasakeh province, Syria, Wednesday, Jan. 21, 2026, after the withdrawal of the Syrian Democratic Forces (SDF). (AP)
Syrian government forces patrol inside the al-Hol camp as smoke rises from an arms depot explosion in northeastern Syria's Hasakeh province, Syria, Wednesday, Jan. 21, 2026, after the withdrawal of the Syrian Democratic Forces (SDF). (AP)
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A US Shift Marked Kurdish-Led Forces’ Fall from Power in Syria

 Syrian government forces patrol inside the al-Hol camp as smoke rises from an arms depot explosion in northeastern Syria's Hasakeh province, Syria, Wednesday, Jan. 21, 2026, after the withdrawal of the Syrian Democratic Forces (SDF). (AP)
Syrian government forces patrol inside the al-Hol camp as smoke rises from an arms depot explosion in northeastern Syria's Hasakeh province, Syria, Wednesday, Jan. 21, 2026, after the withdrawal of the Syrian Democratic Forces (SDF). (AP)

Two tumultuous weeks saw the fall from power in Syria of the Kurdish-led force that was once the main US partner there, as Washington shifts its backing to the country's nascent government.

Analysts say the Syrian Democratic Forces miscalculated, taking a hard stance in negotiations with the new leaders in Damascus on the assumption that if a military conflict erupted between them, Washington would support the SDF as it had for years when they battled the ISIS group.

Instead, the Kurdish-led force lost most of its territory in northeast Syria to a government offensive after intense clashes erupted in the northern city of Aleppo on Jan. 6. Washington did not intervene militarily and focused on mediating a ceasefire.

By Wednesday, the latest ceasefire was holding, and the SDF had signed onto a deal that would effectively dissolve it.

Elham Ahmad, a senior official with the de facto autonomous administration in the Kurdish-led northeast, expressed surprise to journalists Tuesday that its calls for intervention by the US-led coalition against ISIS “have gone unanswered.”

Experts had seen it coming. "It’s been very clear for months that the US views Damascus as a potential strategic partner," said Noah Bonsey, senior advisor on Syria with the International Crisis Group, according The Associated Press.

US President Donald Trump has strongly backed the government of interim President Ahmed al-Sharaa, a former opposition leader, since his forces ousted former President Bashar al-Assad in December 2024 following years of civil war. Under al-Sharaa, Syria has joined the global coalition against ISIS.

US envoy to Syria Tom Barrack in a blunt statement Tuesday said the SDF’s role as Syria's primary anti-ISIS force “has largely expired" since the new government is "both willing and positioned to take over security responsibilities.” The US is not interested in "prolonging a separate SDF role,” he said.

Stalled negotiations led to gunfire

As al-Sharaa sought to pull the country together after 14 years of civil war, he and SDF leader Mazloum Abdi in March 2025 agreed that the SDF's tens of thousands of fighters would be integrated into the new army. The government would take over key institutions in northeast Syria, including border crossings, oil fields and detention centers housing thousands of suspected IS members.

But for months, US-mediated negotiations to implement the deal stalled.

Syrian government officials who spoke to The AP blamed fractured SDF leadership and their maximalist demands.

Syria’s ambassador to the United Nations, Ibrahim Olabi, said Abdi on several occasions agreed to proposals that the group’s more hardline leaders then rejected.

“Then he stopped agreeing to things and started saying, ‘I have to go back’ (to consult with other officials), which obviously didn’t work with us and the Americans," Olabi said. “We wanted to spend a week in one room and get everything done.”

A senior Syrian government official who spoke on condition of anonymity because he was not authorized to comment publicly said Barrack slammed his hand on the table during one negotiating session and demanded that Abdi clarify whether he wanted to continue with the agreement. Barrack declined to comment via a spokesperson.

Ahmad with the Kurdish-led administration accused Damascus officials of dodging meetings and said those that occurred "were only possible because of the Americans pushing Damascus to come and join.”

Talks were always likely to be thorny. The SDF's Kurdish base was wary of the new government, particularly after outbreaks of sectarian violence targeting other minority groups in Syria.

There was “a major disagreement over a huge substantive set of questions around the future of Syrian governance, how decentralized or centralized it should be,” Bonsey said.

Meghan Bodette, director of research at the pro-SDF Kurdish Peace Institute think tank, said the impasse came down to an “astronomical” gulf in political outlook.

Damascus sought to create a centralized state, while the (Kurdish-led authorities) wanted to keep maximum local autonomy through decentralization and institutionalizing minority rights, she said.

Integrating forces was especially tricky

Much debate focused on how the SDF forces would be integrated into the new army.

The senior Syrian official said SDF leaders at one point proposed integrating Syrian government military groups into their forces instead.

He said the government rejected that but agreed to keep the SDF unified in three battalions in northeastern Syria along with a border brigade, a women’s brigade and a special forces brigade.

In return, the government demanded that non-SDF military forces have freedom of movement in the northeast and that SDF divisions would report to the Ministry of Defense and not move without orders. The senior official said Abdi asked to be named deputy minister of defense, and the government agreed.

At the last negotiation session in early January, however, SDF commander Sipan Hamo — seen by Damascus as part of the hardline faction — demanded that the northeast brigades and battalions report to a person chosen by the SDF and that other forces could only enter the region in small patrols and with SDF permission, the senior official said. The government rejected that.

SDF officials did not respond to request for comment on details of negotiations.

Aleppo was a turning point

Days after that session, clashes erupted in Aleppo.

Olabi, the ambassador, said the Syrian military's success in limiting civilian casualties in Aleppo was another key to the diplomatic breakthrough with the SDF.

Syria's military leadership appeared to have learned lessons from confrontations elsewhere in which government-affiliated fighters carried out sectarian revenge attacks on civilians.

In Aleppo, the military opened “humanitarian corridors” so civilians could flee.

“If Aleppo had gone wrong, I think we would be in a very different place,” Olabi said.

After Syrian forces captured the Arab-majority oil-rich provinces of Raqqa and Deir Ezzor from the SDF, the two sides announced a deal. SDF would retain a presence only in Hasakeh province, the country's Kurdish heartland. And SDF fighters would be integrated into the army as individuals.

Bonsey said the SDF had been warned during negotiations that their effort to maintain their dominant role in the northeast conflicted with geopolitical shifts.

They ended up accepting a deal that is “much worse” than what was on offer just two weeks ago, he said.


Israeli Settler Outpost Becomes a Settlement within a Month

Israeli finance minister Bezalel Smotrich, center, strides through the newly-legalized Jewish settlement of Yatziv, adjacent to the Palestinian town of Beit Sahour, in the West Bank, Jan. 19, 2026. (AP)
Israeli finance minister Bezalel Smotrich, center, strides through the newly-legalized Jewish settlement of Yatziv, adjacent to the Palestinian town of Beit Sahour, in the West Bank, Jan. 19, 2026. (AP)
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Israeli Settler Outpost Becomes a Settlement within a Month

Israeli finance minister Bezalel Smotrich, center, strides through the newly-legalized Jewish settlement of Yatziv, adjacent to the Palestinian town of Beit Sahour, in the West Bank, Jan. 19, 2026. (AP)
Israeli finance minister Bezalel Smotrich, center, strides through the newly-legalized Jewish settlement of Yatziv, adjacent to the Palestinian town of Beit Sahour, in the West Bank, Jan. 19, 2026. (AP)

Celebratory music blasting from loudspeakers mixed with the sounds of construction, almost drowning out calls to prayer from a mosque in the Palestinian town across this West Bank valley.

Orthodox Jewish women wearing colorful head coverings and with babies on their hips, shared platters of fresh vegetables as soldiers encircled the hilltop, keeping guard.

The scene Monday reflected the culmination of Israeli settlers’ long campaign to turn this site overlooking the Palestinian town of Beit Sahour into a settlement. Over the years they fended off plans to build a hospital for Palestinian children on the land, always holding to the hope it would one day become theirs.

That moment is now, they say.

Smotrich goes on settlement spree

After two decades of efforts, it took just a month for their new settlement, called “Yatziv,” to go from an unauthorized outpost of a few mobile homes to a fully recognized settlement. Fittingly, the new settlement's name means “stable” in Hebrew.

“We are standing stable here in Israel,” Finance Minister and settler leader Bezalel Smotrich told The Associated Press at Monday’s inauguration ceremony. “We’re going to be here forever. We will never establish a Palestinian state here.”

With leaders like Smotrich holding key positions in Israel’s government and establishing close ties with the Trump administration, settlers are feeling the wind at their backs.

Smotrich, who has been in charge of Israeli settlement policy for the past three years, has overseen an aggressive construction and expansion binge aimed at dismantling any remaining hopes of establishing a Palestinian state in the occupied West Bank.

While most of the world considers the settlements illegal, their impact on the ground is clear, with Palestinians saying the ever-expanding construction hems them in and makes it nearly impossible to establish a viable independent state. The Palestinians seek the West Bank, captured by Israel in 1967, as part of a future state.

Emboldened

Settlers had long set their sights on the hilltop, thanks to its position in a line of settlements surrounding Jerusalem and because they said it was significant to Jewish history. But they put up the boxy prefab homes in November because days earlier, Palestinian attackers had stabbed an Israeli to death at a nearby junction.

The attack created an impetus to justify the settlement, settlement council chair, Yaron Rosenthal, told the AP. With the election of Israel’s far-right government in late 2022, Trump’s return to office last year and the November attack, conditions were ripe for settlers to make their move, Rosenthal said.

“We understood that there was an opportunity,” he said. “But we didn’t know it would happen so quickly.”

“Now there is the right political constellation for this to happen."

Smotrich announced approval of the outpost, along with 18 others, on Dec. 21. That capped 20 years of effort, said Nadia Matar, a settler activist.

“Shdema was nearly lost to us,” said Matar, using the name of an Israeli military base at the site. “What prevented that outcome was perseverance.”

Back in 2006, settlers were infuriated upon hearing that Israel's government was in talks with the US to build a Palestinian children's hospital on the land, said Hagit Ofran, a director at Peace Now, an anti-settlement watchdog group, especially as the US Agency for International Development was funding a “peace park” at the base of the hill.

The mayor of Beit Sahour urged the US Consulate to pressure Israel to begin hospital construction, while settlers began demonstrations at the site calling on Israel to quash the project, according to consulate files obtained through WikiLeaks.

It was “interesting” that settlers had “no religious, legal, or ... security claim to that land,” wrote consulate staffer Matt Fuller at the time, in an email he shared with the AP. "They just don’t want the Palestinians to have it — and for a hospital no less — a hospital that would mean fewer permits for entry to Jerusalem for treatment.”

The hospital was never built. The site was converted into a military base after the Netanyahu government came to power in 2009. From there, settlers quickly established a foothold by creating a makeshift cultural center at the site, putting on lectures, readings and exhibits.

Speaking to the AP, Ehud Olmert, the Israeli prime minister at the time the hospital was under discussion, said that was the tipping point.

“Once it is military installation, it is easier than to change its status into a new outpost, a new settlement and so on,” he said.

Olmert said Netanyahu — who has served as prime minister nearly uninterrupted since then — was “committed to entirely different political directions from the ones that I had,” he said. “They didn’t think about cooperation with the Palestinians.”

Palestinians say the land is theirs

The continued legalization of settlements and spiking settler violence — which rose by 27% in 2025, according to Israel’s military — have cemented a fearful status quo for West Bank Palestinians.

The land now home to Yatziv was originally owned by Palestinians from Beit Sahour, said the town’s mayor, Elias Isseid.

“These lands have been owned by families from Beit Sahour since ancient times,” he said.

Isseid worries more land loss is to come. Yatziv is the latest in a line of Israeli settlements to pop up around Beit Sahour, all of which are connected by a main highway that runs to Jerusalem without entering Palestinian villages. The new settlement “poses a great danger to our children, our families," he said.