Everything about the trip of Rapid Support Forces Commander Mohamed Hamdan Dagalo (Hemedti) to Kampala at the end of last week appeared carefully staged and meticulously choreographed, both the form and content. From the flashy outfits to his meeting with Ugandan President Yoweri Museveni, to his emphasis on his African identity and the need for Sudan’s crisis to be resolved by an African solution, his messaging was geared toward promoting the idea of an African platform that bolsters his position amid mounting military and diplomatic pressure.
He seeks to signal that since most of the Arab world is closer to General Abdel Fattah al-Burhan, he is courting Africa for support. “Africaness” was everywhere in his discourse and gestures in Uganda, including his declaration of his secular conversion. In other words, Hemedti announced an “Africanist” turn and a symbolic break with Arab-Islamic affiliations.
His decision to enact this rupture also explains his sudden discontent with the Jeddah platform. His attack on Saudi mediation and the Jeddah talks was baseless, and its timing raises questions about his motives. Under the auspices of Saudi Arabia and the United States, this mediation framework, with the declared aim of establishing a humanitarian truce and protecting civilians, began years ago. If the Jeddah Platform were, as he claims, merely a “tactic” to save an encircled Burhan, what does this say about his role in protecting civilians? Mediation is not a third army, and blaming the Jeddah Platform for the failure of the negotiators is a convenient simplification, but it does not negate the reality on the ground. His claim that he and the RSF respected their agreements is untrue. In fact, they exploited the negotiations to launch attacks and expand into Gezira State and central Sudan, an assault that was rife with human rights violations.
With this new “Africanist” orientation, Hemedti’s goal is not limited to distancing himself from the Jeddah Platform; he also appears to be distancing himself from the efforts of the international Quartet. He seems to be betting that the African arena could offer allies who are more inclined to engage with him. Overlapping political calculations and economic interests give him reason to believe that neighboring African countries will support him, especially as several have already become corridors for military supplies coming from abroad and destined for the Rapid Support Forces.
Within this broader context, Hemedti is seeking a new position in the map that is taking shape in the regional conflict stretching from Bab al-Mandab and the Horn of Africa to the Nile Valley and the Red Sea. Sudan is undoubtedly a geopolitical knot that cannot be isolated from developments and schemes in the region. The man is not only looking for African cover and African solutions; he is also seeking legitimacy.
His insinuation about “arrangements to take over Sudan’s embassy” in Uganda shifts the conflict into the arena of diplomatic recognition. Embassies are not spoils of war; they are extensions of an internationally recognized state’s sovereignty. Any attempt to create parallel legitimacy by seizing an embassy would place the host state before a legal test; however, it ultimately does not confer international recognition.
Hemedti himself acknowledged that he lacks legitimacy and popular support: “Sudanese people hate us because of “shafshafa” (looting of state and civilian property).”
The truth is that hostility to the RSF cannot be reduced to this “shafshafa;” his claim downplays the gravity of the wound. The tragedy they have precipitated goes beyond plunder: systematic, well-documented human rights violations, genocide and ethnic cleansing, violations of honor and sanctity, humiliation and terrorization, forcing citizens to flee their homes, and the destruction of state institutions, hospitals, schools, and even mosques.
When Hemedti says that he does not want power and that his goal is “purely” to push out the Islamists and dismantle the “army of the Kizan,” he is attempting to redefine the war- mind you, he had himself risen to prominence under former president Omar al-Bashir, and his movement includes leading Islamist figures.
Moreover, his assertion that he will not allow the partition of Sudan carries an implicit admission that the project of partition remains on peoples’ minds. When an armed force is funded, supported by foreign networks, and seeks territorial control, the risk of entrenching de facto partition is tangible, not merely rhetorical. Denying intent is not enough; what matters is the reality of the conflict on the ground.
In sum, changing his rhetoric will not change the realities of the conflict. Claiming to oppose partition does not mean one is not laying the groundwork for it, nor does attacking mediation efforts and pursuing an alternative framework. Sudan does not need discursive shifts, but to see the structures that made war possible in the first place dismantled. State control must be consolidated; the war economy and cross-border alliances must be dismantled. Anyone who commands hundreds of thousands of fighters and introduces foreign combatants cannot be taken seriously as a man of peace. Words do not suffice: what matters is a commitment to disarmament, integration (under a sensible framework) into the national armed forces, and acceptance of accountability. Without these steps, talk of peace will remain empty rhetoric to mask the reality of plots being woven against Sudan with the backing of foreign actors.
