Exclusive - Abdel Fattah al-Burhan: Dedicated General Facing Political Test in Sudan

Lieutenant General Abdel Fattah al-Burhan. (EPA)
Lieutenant General Abdel Fattah al-Burhan. (EPA)
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Exclusive - Abdel Fattah al-Burhan: Dedicated General Facing Political Test in Sudan

Lieutenant General Abdel Fattah al-Burhan. (EPA)
Lieutenant General Abdel Fattah al-Burhan. (EPA)

When the security forces of ousted Sudanese President Omar al-Bashir attempted to use force to disperse protesters outside the Defense Ministry in Khartoum, the name of Lieutenant General Abdel Fattah al-Burhan was being floated around as the people’s hope in the military. Soon after, Bashir was removed from office by the army and Burhan was later named head of a transitional military council.

Burhan succeeded Ahmed Awad Ibn Auf, Bashir’s deputy, whose appointment as head the council was widely opposed by the protesters.

Burhan was born in 1960 in a small village near the northern city of Shendi. He joined the Sudanese military academy in the early 1980s. He was raised in a family that adheres to the Sufi religious teachings of Mohammed Uthman al-Mirghani al-Khatim. Burhan is married and has five children.

He excelled at military school and rose up the ranks. After his graduation, he was deployed at several hot spots in Sudan that was witnessing a peak in hostilities in various conflicts. He was first deployed as a border guard and later joined battlefronts in the Upper Nile and Equatoria regions in what is now South Sudan. He then became commander of western ground forces in Zalingei city in Central Darfur. For years, he worked as a military attache in China, which enjoys special ties with Sudan.

Burhan enrolled in military training courses in several countries, including Syria and Jordan. He was the head of Sudan’s ground forces and then inspector general of the armed forces until Bashir’s ouster. He also oversaw Sudanese troops serving in the Saudi-led Arab coalition to restore legitimacy in Yemen. This experience brought him closer to General Mohamed Hamdan Dagalo, commonly known by his nickname Hemedti, who commands the Rapid Support Forces. Hemedti would later be appointed as Burhan’s deputy in the transitional military council.

Former chief of staff Uthman Bilia said that Burhan was one of the “most competent officers” in the military. He told Asharq Al-Awsat that no better figure could lead Sudan during its period of transition. He explained that Burhan was able to shift the military’s loyalties to the protesters, making him the most capable official to complete the transition to civilian rule.

Military sources revealed that in the tense moments in the aftermath of Bashir’s overthrow, Burhan carried out a series of contacts with military commanders. He was the one to inform Ahmed Awad Ibn Auf and his deputy, Kamal Abdulmaarouf, that their appointment to the military council was rejected by the people due to their close ties to Bashir and active role in using force to break up protests.

Burhan’s “timely intervention and charisma allowed him to regroup military ranks and unite them in supporting the revolution,” the sources told Asharq Al-Awsat.

Retired officer Ahmed Babiker al-Tijani told Asharq Al-Awsat that Burhan was at the top of his class in the military academy and he has the respect of his fellow officers. He added that he is not affiliated to the Muslim Brotherhood and rose up the ranks in the military due to his high professionalism.

Burhan was welcomed by the protesters after he replaced Ibn Auf as head of the transitional military council. He soon found himself at an impasse with the people after negotiations between them and the military failed to so far reach an agreement on the formation of a joint civilian-military body to oversee the period following Bashir’s overthrow.

One of Burhan’s relatives described him as “moderate” and a "good listener" with a few words. He was not known to have played a direct role in politics, despite being part of the military that has long had a role of being embroiled in Sudan’s governance.

“He does not have political leanings. He is only passionate about the military,” he added.



After the Ceasefire in Gaza, West Bank Palestinians Face More Israeli Barriers, Traffic and Misery

 Motorists line up at the Jaba checkpoint, near the West Bank city of Ramallah, Tuesday, Feb. 4, 2025. (AP)
Motorists line up at the Jaba checkpoint, near the West Bank city of Ramallah, Tuesday, Feb. 4, 2025. (AP)
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After the Ceasefire in Gaza, West Bank Palestinians Face More Israeli Barriers, Traffic and Misery

 Motorists line up at the Jaba checkpoint, near the West Bank city of Ramallah, Tuesday, Feb. 4, 2025. (AP)
Motorists line up at the Jaba checkpoint, near the West Bank city of Ramallah, Tuesday, Feb. 4, 2025. (AP)

Abdullah Fauzi, a banker from the northern West Bank city of Nablus, leaves home at 4 a.m. to reach his job by 8, and he's often late.

His commute used to take an hour — until Hamas’ attack on Israel on Oct. 7, 2023, after which Israel launched its offensive in the Gaza Strip.

The Israeli military also ramped up raids against Palestinian fighters in the northern West Bank, and diverted its residents through seven new checkpoints, doubling Fauzi's time on the road.

Now it's gotten worse.

Since the ceasefire in Gaza between Israel and Hamas took effect, Fauzi’s drive to the West Bank's business and administrative hub, Ramallah, has become a convoluted, at least four-hour wiggle through steep lanes and farm roads as Israel further tightens the noose around Palestinian cities in measures it considers essential to guard against militant attacks.

“You can fly to Paris while we're not reaching our homes," the 42-year-old said from the Atara checkpoint outside Ramallah last week, as Israeli soldiers searched scores of cars, one by one.

“Whatever this is, they've planned it well," he said. "It's well-designed to make our life hell.”

A ceasefire begets violence

As the truce between Israel and Hamas took hold on Jan. 19, radical Israeli settlers — incensed over an apparent end to the war and the release of Palestinian prisoners in exchange for Israeli hostages — rampaged through West Bank towns, torching cars and homes.

Two days later, Israeli forces with drones and attack helicopters descended on the northern West Bank city of Jenin, long a center of militant activity.

More checkpoints started going up between Palestinian cities, slicing up the occupied West Bank and creating choke points the Israeli army can shut off on a whim. Crossings that had been open 24/7 started closing during morning and evening rush hours, upturning the lives of hundreds of thousands of people.

New barriers — earthen mounds, iron gates — multiplied, pushing Palestinian cars off well-paved roads and onto rutted paths through open fields. What was once a soldier’s glance and head tilt became international border-like inspections.

Israel says the measures are to prevent Hamas from opening a new front in the West Bank. But many experts suspect the crackdown has more to do with assuaging settler leaders like Bezalel Smotrich, the finance minister and an important ally of Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu, who has threatened to topple the government if Israel does not restart the war in Gaza.

“Israel now has a free hand to pursue what it has wanted to in the West Bank for a long time: settlement expansion, annexation,” said Tahani Mustafa, a senior analyst at the International Crisis Group. “It was considered a potential trade-off.”

Asked why Israel launched the crackdown during the ceasefire, the Israeli military said politicians gave the order in part over concerns that the release of Palestinian prisoners — in swaps for Israeli hostages held by Hamas — could raise tensions in the West Bank.

The checkpoints all over the West Bank, it said, were “to ensure safe movement and expand inspections."

“Checkpoints are a tool we use in the fight against terror, enabling civilian movement while providing a layer of screening to prevent terrorists from escaping,” said Lt. Col. Nadav Shoshani, an Israeli military spokesman.

Life disrupted

To spend rush hour at an Israeli checkpoint is to hear of the problems it has brought — Palestinian families divided, money lost, trade disrupted, sick people kept from doctors.

Ahmed Jibril said not even his position as manager of emergency services for the Palestinian Red Crescent protects him.

“We’re treated like any other private car,” he said, describing dozens of cases in which Israeli soldiers forced ambulances to wait for inspection when they were responding to emergency calls.

In one case, on Jan. 21, the Palestinian Health Ministry reported that a 46-year-old woman who had suffered a heart attack in the southern city of Hebron died while waiting to cross a checkpoint.

The Israeli military said it was not aware of that specific incident. But citing Hamas' use of civilian infrastructure like hospitals to conceal fighters, the army acknowledged subjecting medical teams to security checks “while trying to reduce the delay as much as possible in order to mitigate harm.”

The UN humanitarian agency, or OCHA, reported that, as of last Nov. 28, Israel had 793 checkpoints and roadblocks in the West Bank, 228 more than before the war in Gaza.

The agency hasn’t updated the tally since the ceasefire, but its latest report noted a surge in “suffocating restrictions” that are “tearing communities apart and largely paralyzing daily life.”

A bubble bursts

With its upscale restaurants and yoga studios, Ramallah gained a reputation in past conflicts for being something of a well-to-do bubble where cafe-hopping residents can feel immune to the harsh realities of the occupation.

Now its residents, struck in numbingly long lines to run simple errands, feel under siege.

“All we want to do is go home,” said Mary Elia, 70, stalled with her husband for nearly two hours at the Ein Senia checkpoint north of Ramallah last week, as they made their way home to east Jerusalem from their daughter's house. “Are we meant to never see our grandchildren?”

A national obsession

Roll down the window at a bottlenecked checkpoint and the same soothing female voice can be heard emanating from countless car radios, reeling off every Israeli checkpoint, followed by “salik” — Arabic for open — or “mughlaq,” closed, based on the conditions of the moment.

These reports recently beat out weather broadcasts for top slot on the West Bank radio lineup.

Almost every Palestinian driver seems able to expound on the latest checkpoint operating hours, the minutiae of soldiers' mood changes and fiercely defended opinions about the most efficient detours.

“I didn’t ask for a Ph.D. in this,” said Yasin Fityani, 30, an engineer stuck in line to leave Ramallah for work, scrolling through new checkpoint-dedicated WhatsApp groups filled with footage of soldiers installing cement barriers and fistfights erupting over someone cutting the line.

Lost time, lost money

It was the second time in as many weeks that his boss at the Jerusalem bus company called off his morning shift because he was late.

Worse still for Nidal Al-Maghribi, 34, it was too dangerous to back out of the queue of frustrated motorists waiting to pass Jaba checkpoint, which severs his east Jerusalem neighborhood from the rest of the city. Another full day's work wasted in his car.

“What am I supposed to tell my wife?” he asked, pausing to keep his composure. “This job is how I feed my kids.”

Palestinian trucks, packed with perishable food and construction materials, are not spared the scrutiny. Soldiers often ask truckers to pull over and unload their cargo for inspection. Fruit rots. Textiles and electronics get damaged.

The delays raise prices, further choking a Palestinian economy that shrank 28% last year as a result of punitive Israeli policies imposed after Hamas' attack, said Palestinian Economy Minister Mohammad Alamour. Israel's ban on most Palestinian workers has left 30% of the West Bank's workforce jobless.

“These barriers do everything except their stated purpose of providing security,” Alamour said.

“They pressure the Palestinian people and the Palestinian economy. They make people want to leave their country.”