In the second year of the latest horror in Darfur, tens of thousands are killed or wounded – an echo of the genocide

Sudan’s war in Darfur has been going on for two years, reminiscent of the horrors of 2003, with no solution in sight. Since tensions escalated into full-scale conflict in April, tens of thousands have been killed and wounded and more than nine million have been displaced as the region spirals into one of the world’s worst humanitarian crises.

What is most frightening, survivors say, is the calculated way in which the Arab-dominated militant forces – known for two decades as the Rapid Support Forces or Janjaweed – use inscrutable tactics to break the civilian population, especially members of the African Masalit tribe.

“First they broke into homes and verbally abused people, calling them dogs, insects and the equivalent of the N-word. In subsequent break-ins they stole more and more until there was nothing left that had not been stolen or destroyed and the Masalit had nowhere to return to,” Tom Prichard, executive director of the non-governmental organization Sudan Sunrise, told the New York Sun.

“Men over the age of nine were killed, often after extreme humiliation – such as being paraded in public on all fours like dogs. RSF fighters ordered one man to cry in front of his family, and then when he was executed, his family were told he was a coward.”

This was just the beginning of the suffering.

“When men were killed and families buried the bodies, the RSF came back and forced the survivors to dig them up, sometimes several times,” he continued. “Several people, including children, were burned alive and the survivors were forced to eat their flesh.”

Alaweia Bahareldein, now a refugee in Chad, remembers being beaten every day during the first months when the RSF took over her family’s estate.

“People were tortured and killed in front of me, and I had to bury the dead that were left in my compound,” she said. “The Janjaweed searched the city door to door, specifically looking for Masalit men to kill. They beat, tortured and raped the blacks, whom they called slaves.”

Several survivors and people from the region also spoke of systematic, gender-based violence.

“Other men had to watch their wives being raped and then killed to show others that they could not protect their wives,” Prichard said. “And beautiful women were sold as slaves in the market and sometimes traded for cars.”

For the Masalit, who are Muslims like their attackers, rape also brings with it deep-rooted familial shame, social stigma and the destruction of their honour. Some women have reported being raped at gunpoint by multiple men, with their Masalit affiliation being the deciding factor. Other local reports claim that the RSF attacks women by stabbing their genitals, causing irreversible injuries and even death.

Another Masalit woman told The Sun that the RSF “impregnates women”, despite knowing the stress and difficulties this brings. She stressed that even animals are not spared from the barbaric slaughter.

On Twitter, RSF fighters even boasted that they had the “right to rape, kill, steal and whatever” and called on anyone who “has a problem with that to confront them on the battlefield.”

Videos have also emerged in recent weeks showing the RSF whipping and interrogating civilians and forcing them to make animal noises in an attempt to dehumanize the population as much as possible. In addition, a UN report earlier this year found that the RSF had committed a campaign of rape, gang rape, looting and killing in Darfur, while condemning Sudanese forces for indiscriminate attacks in densely populated areas.

The roots of the conflict

There has already been a genocide in Darfur – a campaign against the ethnic Darfurian population that began in 2003 and left an estimated 250,000 people dead. They have been charged with crimes against humanity at the International Criminal Court. As evidence mounts, there are fears that such a genocide will be repeated.

In the early 2000s, Sudan’s President Omar al-Bashir launched a campaign against the non-Arab, predominantly black population of Darfur, which culminated in genocide between 2003 and 2005. Since then, Sudan has not experienced true peace. In April, a new conflict broke out between the Sudanese armed forces and the Rapid Support Forces.

Founded in 2015, the RSF is made up of fighters closely linked to the Janjaweed militias responsible for much of the genocide. In 2017, Sudan passed a law recognizing the RSF as an independent security group, and the government used the RSF for years to quell unrest in Darfur.

“The Arab militias that make up the RSF are mostly based in western Sudan in the Darfur region and surrounding areas. Over the past year, the violence in Darfur has been primarily directed against civilians and has not been part of a struggle for tactical advantage between the two military units,” explains Joseph Siegle, research director of the Africa Center for Strategic Studies at the National Defense University.

“The RSF (expelled) the SAF from their remaining military camps in Darfur late last year,” Siegle says. “This gave the RSF even more scope to attack civilians with impunity, which is one of the reasons we have seen a recent increase in violence.”

While the conflict has many causes, observers have recognized the value of the resource-rich Darfur region: it is rich in gold and has modest amounts of chromite, crude oil and petroleum products.

Abdelillah Douda, a Darfur-based academic and education consultant, claims that the Sudanese army did not defend the Janjaweed during the first two months of the invasion and was completely absent, “leaving innocent victims at the mercy of the Janjaweed.”

“The Janjaweed besieged the entire city from all directions for months, preventing people and food from entering and leaving,” he said. “Then they searched the entire city from house to house for blacks, especially Masalit, killing men and raping and sexually abusing women for two months.”

In Ms. Bahareldein’s view, the strategies used today are no different from those used two decades ago. She says the RSF is pursuing “the same goals with different methods. They want to drive the indigenous people off their land and occupy it,” she explains. “2003 was the first phase of the operation – the expulsion of people from the villages to the cities. This is the second phase, in which these people are being expelled from the big cities and from the countryside.”

But Mr Prichard stresses that what is also missing from the narrative is that it is a “purely racist war”. He says that people are being “driven off their land because they are black, and the Arabs want to steal their land. And they have worked hard to make the land so associated with atrocities that people will never go back there.”

The nightmare of staying or fleeing

Mr. Douda pointed out that since June 15, 2023, all cities in West Darfur State have been under Janjaweed control and that 85 percent of the population of these cities have been evacuated due to the atrocities experienced there.

“The state today has no government, no security and lacks the basic necessities of life. Everything in the state is in the hands of the Janjaweed. They are heavily armed and have military bases everywhere,” he claimed. “They impose high taxes and fees on everything and if you refuse to pay, they beat you to death. RSF tries to control every aid shipment to these areas.”

Mr Douda points out that the Arab militias have rounded up the ethnic Darfuris as “slaves.” Those who remain in Darfur have no medical assistance. Sudan is fluctuating a collapse of the health system; more than 80 percent of medical facilities were no longer functional.

A well-known MSF hospital in the Darfur town of El Fasher was forced to close completely on June 8 after an attack by RSF fighters. The attackers stormed the premises, fired weapons and looted essential medical supplies, including an ambulance.

Aid delivery routes have been disrupted and food prices have doubled in some parts of the region as commercial traders are unable to trade. Refugee camps remain underfunded and suffer devastating food crises. In the sprawling Zamzam camp, at least one child dies every two hours.

The millions of people who managed to flee towards the border with Chad – often after walking up to 300 kilometres in 50-degree heat – are hardly better off.

“On the way from Sudan to Chad, the victims were beaten, tortured, killed and raped,” recalls Ms. Bahareldein. “And when they arrived in Chad, they have not yet received sufficient humanitarian aid to feed themselves and their families.”

Mr Prichard agrees that when people finally fled towards the border with Chad, they were constantly at risk of death. “Many were shot or drowned, and they had to pay what money they had left to cross the border,” says Prichard. “They were told that if they returned, they would be killed.”

Even in the neighbouring country, the threat of impending doom remains. According to Mr Prichard, around 500 leaders from the Darfur town of El Geneina are on the RSF’s wanted list, and many cannot stay in one place for more than a day. Others are trying to take their families north, insisting that death trying to cross the desert is better than waiting to die in the camps.

“There is not enough shelter, not enough food and no medical care,” said Mr Douda. “Children and the elderly die every day from simple diseases. Children have no education and no future.”

The American position

Meanwhile, the US State Department has accused both the Sudanese armed forces and the RSF and its allied militias of war crimes. Secretary of State Antony Blinken accused RSF members of “crimes against humanity and ethnic cleansing.”

It remains to be seen whether Washington will take further action to prevent another genocide. The talks in Jeddah, which are being supported by the US and are intended to bring the two sides to the negotiating table for peace talks, have been stalled for months after an initial failure to reach agreement on a ceasefire.

For those who have been at the center of the fighting for decades, such discussions seem hollow and distant. Bahr al-Din Abdallah, a 46-year-old secondary school teacher who fled to Chad, remembers those she knew and loved being buried alive. She herself has lost 16 members of her family. Her brother remains missing. “We don’t know where he is,” she adds slowly, clinging to a spark of hope. “Not yet.”