Darfur again

South Sudan (photo:IANS)


The capture of el-Fasher by the Rapid Support Forces (RSF) marks the darkest moment yet in Sudan’s unravelling civil war. After 18 months under siege, the last army-held city in Darfur has fallen, completing the paramilitary group’s control of the vast western region. What began in April 2023 as a contest for power between two generals has now metastasized into one of the worst humanitarian disasters of this century, and the world, once again, has watched in silence.

For the Sudanese army, the withdrawal from el-Fasher was justified as an act to “save civilian lives.” But for the hundreds of thousands trapped in the city, there was no salvation. Satellite evidence and eyewitness accounts speak of mass killings and bodies left near defensive walls and roadsides, chilling echoes of the genocidal violence that scarred Darfur 20 years ago. Entire families have vanished; communication lines are severed; hospitals have been attacked. The remaining civilians, mostly from non-Arab ethnic groups, now live in fear of retribution from the victors. The RSF’s advance is not simply a tactical win. It has effectively divided Sudan into two – with the army confined to the north and east, and the RSF ruling the west and parts of the centre.

The collapse of state authority has allowed warlords and militias to carve up territories, leaving a country that once symbolised the crossroads of Africa drifting toward permanent fragmentation. What was once a battle for Khartoum has become a struggle for survival across a dismembered land. The city’s fall also underscores the quiet death of diplomacy. Endless peace talks without enforcement have only emboldened those who kill faster than the world negotiates. The numbers tell their own story: tens of thousands dead, 12 million displaced, entire towns reduced to rubble. Food supplies rot in fields that cannot be harvested, and famine stalks millions.

Yet the response from the world has been a familiar chorus of condemnation without consequence. Regional bodies issue statements, global powers express concern, and the United Nations repeats its appeals for restraint while Sudan’s civilians bleed in silence. This abdication of responsibility has moral weight. The phrase “never again,” invoked after the atrocities in Darfur two decades ago, now rings hollow. The same militia, reconstituted and rebranded, has returned to commit the same crimes, only this time with greater impunity and fewer witnesses. If the international community cannot summon the will to halt the slaughter or open humanitarian corridors, it will bear complicity in the destruction of an entire people.

El-Fasher’s fall is not just a defeat for Sudan’s army; it is a collapse of international conscience. The tragedy unfolding in Darfur is no longer a warning, it is a reckoning. Unless decisive action replaces diplomatic caution, Sudan will not merely be a failed state; it will become the graveyard of global promises.