In September 2013, students and youths flooded the streets to protest soaring living costs and the removal of fuel subsidies, only to be met by a hail of bullets and unprecedented brutality from former President Omar al-Bashir’s administration. Bodies fell on the pavement, and young children witnessed a state devoid of mercy. Many of those survivors grew up to become the spark of the December uprising, repeatedly rising again as peaceful chants eventually ending in the explosive war of April 15, 2023 that altered everything.
Today, as the scale of destruction widens, the alliances formed between Sudanese Armed Forces (SAF) supporters and anti-war factions have deepened divides and weakened the revolutionary project. Could the revolutionary forces have united in opposing the war, capitalizing on the military’s failure to govern, to forge a coherent civilian project? Or was the conflict, simmering beneath the surface all along, simply too powerful to sidestep?
Alongside Islamist-affiliated armed groups, and later Darfur-based armed movements such as the Justice and Equality Movement and the Sudan Liberation Movement, a significant number of December revolutionaries have been drawn into combat alongside the SAF ever since the early days of the call to arms.
Major General Abdel Fattah al-Burhan issued that call in July 2023, urging “all the youth of the country and everyone capable of defense not to hesitate or delay in taking on this national duty.” The mobilized ranks included individuals with a range of political and intellectual perspectives, emerging both from within the military camps and the battlefields. Among the fighters were Islamists and non-Islamists alike. In March 2024, Major General Shams al-Din Kabashi insisted that popular resistance camps “should not be exploited” and that politics must be kept outside the military. Meanwhile, Major General Yasser al-Atta countered, “Negative remarks about the popular resistance are worthless, mistakes in any undertaking are rectified in the process.”
Politics and Arms
Amin Saad, once an active member of the Haishd al-Wahdawi party, a political force before and in the December uprising, was known among his peers for marching in protests that eventually toppled Bashir’s regime in April 2019. For Amin, taking up arms was not a moment of hesitation or second-guessing. The decision had been brewing within him ever since the SAF declared the necessity of armed resistance. It wasn’t a matter of questioning identity or political allegiance but rather asking a single, urgent question: Can a true revolutionary stand by as his nation is torn apart?
Long identified as a leader in the civil opposition, Amin emerged in full military uniform with his weapon in hand, fighting alongside revolutionary militias against the Rapid Support Forces (RSF), the same enemy that had relentlessly crushed the December protests, stolen its dreams, and displaced its supporters into detention or exile. His sudden transformation sparked major questions. Some accused him of a hidden return to Islamist roots, while others saw his actions as a reluctant yet inevitable stance forced by the raw exigencies of war.
“When it comes to defending one’s homeland, there is no room for hesitation. A true revolutionary cannot remain neutral while his nation burns,” Amin told Atar.
He paid little heed to the accusations or his party’s critique, focusing instead on the fate of a country for which he had waged political battles and now fought with arms.
Advancing on the battlefield, Amin shows neither regret nor doubt. This may not be his first war, but it is undoubtedly his most transparent and uncompromising.
When Arms Become Inevitable
“It wasn’t my first choice to take up arms. I resisted for a long time,” reflects Sakhr Mohammed al-Zain, a member of the Angry Without Borders group ”Ghadibun”, summarizing his journey from protest marches to the trenches.
His decision was not born of a spontaneous impulse but was the product of years of accumulating violence and abuses.
“I had to choose: either live with the disgrace of silence or confront this harsh reality, even if my modest efforts eventually added up to make a difference,” he told Atar.
This wasn’t a choice. It was a fate imposed upon us
Mazen al-Tayeb, a student at Nilein University and a member of the Special Action Militia under the command of Sudanese Army Lieutenant Colonel Hamed Othman, once believed that revolutions were waged by voices rather than weapons. Today, however, he fights alongside comrades who, just a few years ago, chanted for freedom beneath Khartoum’s sky.
“This wasn’t a choice. It was a fate imposed upon us,” Mazen said to Atar, recalling that the massacre during the sit-in uprising in June 2019 was a pivotal moment, though not enough on its own to compel him to take up arms.
“When the daily horrors unleashed by the RSF in April became a living nightmare, neutrality ceased to be a moral option,” he added.
For Mohammed Bashir, a member of the “Ghadibun” group, the revolution now faces an existential test: whether to cling to an impossible nonviolence or to engage in a war that is tearing the country apart.
“We are the children of a revolution that once resonated with hope even against gunfire. Yet we found ourselves caught between two bitter choices: fight in a war we did not ignite, or stand idly by as our nation disintegrates,” he told Atar.
Muhannad al-Hussein, an employee at Sudan Bank, contends that the conflict has surpassed a mere struggle for power and has become an existential threat to the state.
“Institutions are collapsing, cities are falling, and militias are expanding. This is not a political contest but a fight for the survival of Sudan itself,” Muhannad asserted.
Bikri Abdel Qayoum, a student at the University of Khartoum fighting with the Isnad Battalions (Back up), argued that taking up arms became a matter of survival.
“In some neighbourhoods, we faced the constant threat of looting and assault, leaving us no choice but to defend ourselves,” he said.
Yet the alliance with the SAF remains a subject of fierce debate. Mazen described it as “necessary pragmatism.”
He added that the collapse of security and the economy has driven many revolutionaries and citizens alike to join resistance units, whether seeking protection or merely a means of survival in a nation crumbling before their eyes.
For Mosab al-Jak, a merchant at the Omdurman phone market who found himself compelled to take up arms, the decision was inevitable once he observed the regional backing afforded to the RSF.
“When we realized that our national unity was in jeopardy, we had to choose between fighting and perishing,” he stated.
Yet the alliance with the SAF remains a subject of fierce debate. Mazen described it as “necessary pragmatism.”
“We don’t see the SAF as a strategic partner but as a temporary instrument to counter an imminent threat. We recognize it as part of the system we once resisted, but our central conflict now is with the RSF. After this war, the battle for a civilian government will begin,” he explained.
Muhannad agreed, adding, “Defeating the RSF must come before any other dispute. While the SAF, despite its shortcomings, remains a reformable national institution, the RSF answers only to their own interests.”
Domestic and International: No Conventional Solutions
Neither the SAF nor the RSF is the choice of the Sudanese people, and the civilian sector has yet to propose a clear plan for governance
Could this fate have been avoided?
Sudanese thinker Abd al-Rahman Hassan “Bob” dismisses any military solution.
“Neither the SAF nor the RSF is the choice of the Sudanese people, and the civilian sector has yet to propose a clear plan for governance. An obsession with political and military battles distracts from the fundamental task: building an independent system of government, free from military or militia control.”
Boub, who spent four months in Khartoum before RSF seized his home, maintains that Sudan’s crisis cannot be solved through traditional military or political means. “The reality forces individuals to take measures to protect themselves, measures that transcend political or ideological choices. It’s simply about survival,” he told Atar.
Mohammed Ubaid, a psychiatrist and political analyst, told Atar that the revolution was never merely a rejection of Islamist rule.
“It was a response to a comprehensive collapse: a shattered economy, crumbling services, and a generation deprived of a future. In such dire circumstances, silence was no longer an option,” Dr Ubaid said.
Before the uprising, despite political tension, revolution had not ignited immediately.
“There was a baseline of acceptable living conditions. But when the means of survival collapsed, people had nothing left to lose,” Ubaid added.
With the outbreak of war, the revolution confronted an even more complex reality.
“Initially, the revolutionaries were unwilling to align with any faction, but it soon became clear that this conflict was not merely a struggle for power. It was a new project of plunder, pillage, and settlement,” Ubaid explained.
On the international stage, the picture is less clear. A fatigued global community contented itself with condemnatory statements and largely ineffective sanctions while regional actors intervened to support one faction or another in pursuit of their own interests.
“Sudan can no longer wait for solutions from abroad. The true hope lies within; civic forces, from labour unions to neighbourhood committees, must unite to advance a vision that transcends the traditional frameworks of the nation-state and military rule,” Ubaid said.
After the Storm: Where Does the Revolution Go?
The lingering question remains: Can the revolution, now transformed into a battle for survival, reclaim its original spirit?
Dr Ubaid answers with a resounding no, arguing that what followed the uprising was no less brutal. Without a unified leadership to steer the movement, various factions filled the void, many of which lack the trust of the people.
According to Ubaid, the emergence of the RSF as a dominant force was inherently unpopular from the start, as protesters viewed them as a militia outside the bounds of the state.
“It was clear that having irregular forces operating in this manner posed a grave threat. Yet even the military establishment seemed complicit, or at least reluctant, to confront this menace,” he added.
Then came the violent dispersal of the sit-in, a moment Ubaid describes as pivotal.
“Everyone was in a state of agitation. What occurred was not merely repression but a clear announcement that those in power would stop at nothing to maintain their hold on governance,” he said.
What started as a revolution against injustice has culminated in a struggle against annihilation
With the onset of the current war, revolutionaries now face an even bleaker reality. Initially, they lacked a clear stance, viewing the SAF as a force that had lost public trust and RSF as an unacceptable enemy. But within just a week, it became apparent that the unfolding events amounted to a systematic targeting of civilians.
In this context, Ubaid sees no separation between the revolution and the war.
“If the revolution began as a quest to reclaim the state, the current conflict has revealed that the state itself has vanished, along with the basic rights of its citizens. Consequently, many have been forced to take up arms, not for ideological reasons but simply for the sake of survival,” Ubaid told Atar.
He notes that political actors are attempting to divide the revolution from the war, yet in his view, both are inextricably linked.
“What started as a revolution against injustice has culminated in a struggle against annihilation,” he said.
Medicine and War
Youssef Adel, a combat physician on the frontlines, asserts that revolutions are forged through daily sacrifice rather than rhetoric alone.
“When the war broke out, the choices were anything but simple. I could have left, sought safety in another country, but I knew that nations aren’t built by fleeing. I chose to stay and place my hand where the blood flows, standing firm as everything crumbles, trying to save what can be saved,” he told Atar.
Dr Youssef began his journey during the conflict at Al-Naw Hospital in Omdurman, working in an emergency room under relentless shelling.
“I saw the city groan under the weight of bombardment, witnessed scores of the wounded arriving, some bearing the bodies of loved ones, others waiting on the knife-edge between life and death. I had to learn quickly, act decisively, and be more than a doctor, a healing hand, a resilient heart, and an unwavering eye amid the destruction,” Youssef told Atar.
Eventually, he left the hospital’s confines to become the lone field medic along a coastal corridor, moving with the SAF from the Halfaya Bridge to the General Command. “There was no time to hesitate. I pressed on with my bare hands, trying to staunch life-threatening bleeding, hearing the anguished cries of the injured and seeing their eyes fix on me as if I were their last hope. I was the sole doctor among a thousand fighters, compelled to be a thousand hands to save them,” Youssef says.
It was not merely a profession but another battle within the larger war, a struggle marked by witnessing comrades fall, carrying their bodies, and hearing their voices fade beneath the relentless roar of artillery.
“The locations may change, but the principle remains: I will stay where my country needs me, when wounds are exposed and demand urgent care, when life teeters on a fragile thread and must be rescued from the brink,” he said. “That’s what the December Revolution taught me, a true revolutionary never abandons the battlefield, even when the entire nation becomes one.”
