On 26 June, Massad Boulos, US President Donald Trump’s Senior Adviser for Africa and the Middle East, addressed the United Nations Security Council on Sudan, outlining what he described as a roadmap towards peace and the establishment of a democratic civilian government.
Boulos’s proposal rests on several interlocking stages: a nationwide humanitarian ceasefire; an implementation, monitoring and oversight mechanism; renewed momentum for a civilian political process; the foundations of an inclusive democratic transition; measures to curb external support and the flow of weapons; and accountability mechanisms designed to raise the cost of obstructing peace. Although these elements appear sequential and mutually reinforcing, they are in fact distributed across three distinct tracks, each speaking a different language and perhaps pursuing a different objective altogether: a humanitarian track, a security track and a political track.
The proposal depends heavily on the willingness of the United States to sustain a long-term commitment to Sudan. It also requires Washington to assemble a broad regional and international coalition capable of agreeing on the plan’s ultimate objectives while committing substantial humanitarian funding over several years.
Yet the Trump administration has adopted a markedly different approach to foreign policy. Its November 2025 National Security Strategy declared that US engagement with Africa would prioritise trade over aid. “The United States should move from an aid-based relationship with Africa to one centred on trade and investment, prioritising partnerships with capable, reliable countries committed to opening their markets to American goods and services.” The strategy reflects an “America First” doctrine that places US interests at the centre of every negotiation, mediation effort and international intervention.
Against that backdrop, Boulos has repeatedly insisted that Washington’s only interest in Sudan is helping to end what he described as the world’s largest humanitarian crisis: no trade, no business, simply humanitarian concern.
With that premise, the adviser presented a proposal to both the Sudanese Armed Forces (SAF) and the Rapid Support Forces (RSF), widely described as a plan for a three-month humanitarian ceasefire. During that period, Boulos hopes, armed essentially with sanctions as his principal instrument, to persuade both parties to accept an unconditional humanitarian truce. That ceasefire would then be followed by the creation of an UN-backed mechanism to coordinate and supervise the immediate, unconditional delivery of humanitarian aid across borders and front lines, particularly to cities threatened with siege, such as Al-Obeid. Even if both sides were to accept the proposal without conditions, the adviser would still need donor governments to finance what could become the largest—and arguably the most logistically complex and expensive—humanitarian operation currently under way anywhere in the world.
Three months, the proposed duration of the ceasefire, would be nowhere near enough to deliver humanitarian assistance on a scale capable of making a meaningful difference.
His proposal envisages an international mechanism responsible for overseeing humanitarian operations. Such a body, however, would require a comprehensive mandate encompassing protection, access and freedom of movement. What follows after that remains unclear. Anyone familiar with Sudan’s transport infrastructure and the geography of the conflict knows that three months—the proposed duration of the ceasefire—would be nowhere near enough to deliver humanitarian assistance on a scale capable of making a meaningful difference.
The proposal appears designed to draw Sudan’s belligerents into a sequence that begins with a humanitarian truce, evolves into a ceasefire, progresses to a political process culminating in a democratic civilian government and ultimately restores peace and stability—another potential entry in Donald Trump’s record of ending wars.
In describing the initiative before the Security Council, Boulos stated: “There is now a clear path to peace, beginning with the nationwide humanitarian ceasefire that we have repeatedly presented to the parties. The ceasefire text guarantees sustained and unrestricted humanitarian access across conflict lines and borders, paving the way for negotiations, a permanent ceasefire and an environment conducive to genuine, inclusive dialogue. Yet it has been rejected repeatedly by the Sovereignty Council, including our latest proposal submitted this morning.”
Commenting on the speech—particularly Boulos’s reference to US sanctions against both sides, as well as sanctions imposed on Sudan over its alleged use of chemical weapons—Khalid Omer Yousif, deputy chairman of the Sudanese Congress Party, argued that Boulos was assigning primary responsibility for obstructing international peace efforts to the Sovereignty Council and the SAF. “This approach is serious and reflects growing impatience with the absence of any genuine will to end the war,” Yousif said.
Such a reading overlooks the risks inherent in impatient intervention in a conflict whose complexity demands precisely the opposite: patience, careful study and a deep understanding of Sudan’s political realities. It also reveals a tendency to subsume Sudan’s war within broader regional conflicts without fully appreciating how such framing introduces additional layers of complexity into an already extraordinarily complicated crisis.
More fundamentally, it overestimates the seriousness of US policy towards Sudan. Trump himself has admitted that Sudan barely registered on his agenda until Saudi Crown Prince Mohammed bin Salman drew his attention to it.
There is no disputing America’s enormous military and financial power. What it has lost, however, is one of the principal assets that once enabled it to play a decisive role in resolving conflicts: the ability to build durable regional and international coalitions. As that capacity has eroded, and as Washington has increasingly acted alone while placing American interests above all others, allies’ confidence has weakened and the outcomes of US interventions have often deteriorated accordingly.
The proposed humanitarian ceasefire appears to be the keystone upon which the rest of Boulos’s broader vision depends.
The humanitarian catastrophe caused by the war has provided local, regional and international actors with the principal justification for supporting rapid American engagement in Sudan. There is little doubt that the crisis has become the world’s largest humanitarian emergency. At the same time, influential regional powers remain deeply invested in both the conduct of the war and the shape of any post-war settlement. The United Arab Emirates, Saudi Arabia and, to a lesser extent, Egypt all enjoy considerable influence within the Trump administration. Washington’s relationships with these countries extend far beyond Sudan and encompass interests—including commercial interests—that are arguably far more significant. Unsurprisingly, the United States has sought to avoid alienating any of them over Sudan. From the earliest days of the conflict, Washington worked alongside Saudi Arabia through the Jeddah platform, which subsequently evolved into a succession of initiatives involving IGAD, the African Union, the Quad, the Quint and, most recently, the G7 statement issued on 19 July.Now, however, the United States has once again returned to acting independently, advancing its own proposal while retaining its seat at every multilateral table.
The proposed humanitarian ceasefire appears to be the keystone upon which the rest of Boulos’s broader vision depends. Yet that vision exists not as a single comprehensive document but as a collection of interviews, press statements and official remarks scattered across different forums. Far from being the simple breakthrough it is often portrayed to be, an unconditional humanitarian truce merely initiates a chain of responsibilities that would fall to institutions that do not yet exist—chief among them the proposed mechanism responsible for supervising and coordinating humanitarian relief.
Boulos is still attempting to persuade international and regional actors—including some directly involved in the conflict—to coordinate efforts to protect civilians, particularly in cities facing a possible siege, such as Al-Obeid, which many fear could suffer the same fate as Al-Fashir. Although the RSF and the Sudan Founding Government (Ta’sis) have both reiterated their support for the proposed ceasefire, that support is hedged by explicit and implicit conditions. These include international recognition of the parallel government and a formal role in administering humanitarian assistance and controlling safe humanitarian corridors.
Under such circumstances, the humanitarian truce risks becoming little more than an opportunity for both sides to regroup militarily and consolidate realities on the ground. Both parties understand how difficult it is to move from a ceasefire to the next stage of any peace process. The RSF no longer presents itself merely as an insurgent force fighting the state. It increasingly portrays itself as a state in its own right, with a government, institutions, an army and a population under its authority, whether willingly or otherwise. This positioning enables the RSF to claim a central role across each of the three tracks endorsed by the Berlin Conference in April 2026, adopted by the Quint and incorporated into Boulos’s proposal. Politically, it seeks recognition as an established actor through Ta’sis. Humanitarianly, it presents itself as a de facto government with institutions prepared to receive and distribute international assistance. Militarily, it insists that any permanent security settlement must recognise it as a principal armed force capable of forming the nucleus of a new national army.
What emerges are three parallel yet interconnected tracks: a humanitarian process, a security process and a political process.
The RSF does not appear to possess a coherent political programme, even though its public discourse centres on combating—and perhaps eliminating—Islamists from Sudanese political life. In pursuing that objective, it has drawn little distinction between civilians and combatants, or between allies and enemies. Nor has it succeeded—perhaps it has not even attempted—to establish stability in the cities it fully controls. The movement views the SAF as little more than an Islamist militia and regards General Abdel Fattah al-Burhan as a figurehead manipulated by Islamist forces. From this perspective, the RSF sees little future in conventional security arrangements centred on disarmament, demobilisation and reintegration. Instead, as Mohamed Hamdan Dagalo declared last year, and as Nasredeen Abdulbari reiterated at a press conference in Addis Ababa in June alongside a delegation from the Ta’sis alliance, its objective is “to build a new army”.
Ultimately, Massad Boulos has not presented a comprehensive plan for Sudan. What he has proposed is an unconditional humanitarian ceasefire to be accepted by both the SAF and the RSF. Alongside that proposal, he supports a political process mediated by the Quint—the United Nations, African Union, IGAD, Arab League and European Union—with the aim of opening dialogue among Sudan’s civilian political actors. The Quint has already convened several meetings of political blocs, most recently inviting participants on 26 July to attend consultations on 31 July. The Sudanese Declaration of Principles Forces—a coalition comprising the Civil Democratic Alliance of Revolutionary Forces (Sumoud), the Sudan Liberation Movement (Abdel Wahid al-Nur faction) and the Arab Socialist Ba’ath Party—argues that the Quint initiative merely perpetuates an approach that sidesteps the fundamental issues that must be resolved before any political process can begin. In its view, the war must first be brought to an end before agreement can be reached on either the foundations of a political transition or the parties entitled to participate in it. What emerges, then, are three parallel yet interconnected tracks: a humanitarian process built around a ceasefire, a security process whose principles remain undefined and a political process on whose most basic premises there is still no consensus.
