The war that broke out in Sudan in 2023 was not merely a military clash that destroyed cities and displaced millions. It was also a social and political earthquake that brought radical and profound shifts in the Sudanese citizen's thinking and his view of life and of the political scene, going entirely beyond the frameworks and concepts that prevailed during the transitional period following the 2018 revolution.
Under the weight of suffering, the priorities of broad sections of citizens have changed, and so has their view of the state, politics, security, and their future. Hence a fundamental question: do these shifts offer an opportunity to rebuild national consensus on new foundations?
During the transitional period, the slogans of freedom, peace, and justice, alongside questions of democratic transformation and power-sharing, dominated public debate. Today the war has imposed more pressing priorities: security, food and medicine, the protection of property, returning home, and preserving the state from total collapse and partition.
This does not mean Sudanese have abandoned their aspirations to freedom and democracy. Rather, the harsh experience has reordered priorities, and made the realization of those aspirations dependent on the existence of a state capable of protecting its citizens and providing the minimum requirements of life. Despite the sharp criticism citizens direct at the record of Sudanese governments, the experience of this war in particular has bred a conviction that the state- in whatever form- is the safety valve against total chaos.
The war has weakened some sections of the public's trust in the elites who led the scene after the revolution. Political conflicts and sharp polarization deepened divisions and contributed, directly or indirectly, to the climate that finally led to the outbreak of this devastating war.
At the same time, the war has reshaped broad sections' view of the military institution. For many, preserving the army has become bound up with the survival and unity of the state in the face of an existential threat, regardless of earlier disagreements over its political role. A wide rift has also grown between citizens and the Rapid Support Forces, because of the killing, violations, looting, and assaults on civilians and their property that it committed, and its destruction of infrastructure and of state facilities and service, educational, historical, and cultural institutions. This has been accompanied by public rejection of any alternatives to state institutions and of any attempt to create parallel entities and civil administrations, out of fear of partition scenarios.
The war's effects were not confined to politics. They reached the social fabric, as hate speech and tribal and regional polarization rose and trust among society's components was harshly tested. The politicization of the native administration and the exploitation of social constituencies in the conflict also inflamed tribalism and regionalism and frayed the social fabric.
Yet the war also revealed local communities' capacity for initiative, solidarity, and self-reliance. Emergency response rooms, communal kitchens, and youth initiatives played essential roles in providing food and care and helping those affected, in the absence of services and with state institutions paralyzed. This reflects a shift from waiting for solutions from the elites and the authorities to relying on community initiative, without relieving the state of its responsibilities. In the same vein, broad sections joined the "popular resistance" to defend their areas or to support the army.
These shifts set before us a basic fact: the political process cannot be resumed from the point at which it stopped before April 2023, as though the war had not happened. Priorities have changed, the balances of trust have shifted, the circle of those affected has widened, and the questions of security, the unity of the state, the return of the displaced and refugees, redress, and peaceful coexistence now stand at the head of any national project.
The opportunity for a comprehensive Sudanese-Sudanese dialogue, owned and led by Sudanese, therefore requires recognizing that the periods before and after the war differ in their circumstances and challenges, and that the old quota arrangements and the visions that governed the transitional period are not necessarily a sufficient basis for the future.
What is required is not excluding the political forces, but widening participation to include affected civilians, the young and women, the displaced, refugees, and Sudanese abroad, local communities, and all other social and political forces, with agreement on clear criteria for participation and responsibility.
Nor should the dialogue turn into bargaining among elites over power. Ending the war, protecting civilians, withdrawing forces from civilian objects, restoring state institutions, guaranteeing a safe and dignified return for those affected, and rejecting hate speech are questions that cannot be bypassed.
The war has cost Sudanese a heavy price, but it has also exposed the limits of the political approaches that could not prevent the collapse. The opportunity today is not to return to the pre-war scene, but to build a new consensus that absorbs the war's lessons and responds to the shifts in society. A Sudanese-Sudanese dialogue does not succeed merely by gathering the parties around one table, but by its capacity to restore citizens' trust, to tie politics to their actual needs, and to lay the foundations of a state that protects everyone without discrimination. That is the task Sudanese should take up together, before the cost of delay exceeds what remains of the country's capacity to endure.
