Sudan

An air strike on a fuel market near Chad’s border with Sudan killed 12 and injured seven, according to officials.

An air strike near Chad’s border with Sudan has killed at least 12 people, with Chad accusing the Sudanese army of launching it.

Addressing Thursday’s strike, a Chadian security source said it “targeted a fuel market where the RSF [Rapid Support Forces] refuel. The strike killed 12 people and wounded seven”, AFP news agency reported about the attack on the paramilitary group.

Chad’s accusation comes against the backdrop of a civil war between Sudan’s army and the RSF which has lasted over three years and displaced millions of people.

Previously, Chad said that Sudan was responsible for an air strike that hit a military convoy in its territory last week. Chad’s army said the strikes took place more than 100km (62 miles) inside its territory in the eastern Ennedi region, and that there were no Chadian casualties.

In response to threats posed by drones, Chad had raised its alert level in the area to its highest point, according to a security source. The country deployed about 100 armoured vehicles and signal-jamming trucks near eastern Tine, close to the Sudanese border, a local source told Reuters news agency.

On Thursday, Sudan said it was surprised by the allegations against its army “before any professional and independent investigation into the circumstances of the incident”.

Sudan’s Foreign Ministry said its forces “are carrying out their constitutional duty to protect Sudan’s sovereignty, security and safety and to face any threats it faces, while respecting the sovereignty of its neighbours and without targeting their territory”.

The US embassy in Khartoum also accused the Sudanese army of launching the recent strikes on Chad, condemning them on Thursday.

The Sudanese army has previously accused Chad of being aligned with the RSF. Meanwhile, nearly one million displaced Sudanese people have fled to Chad, where they have been facing a water crisis.

Sudan’s army has had a good summer. Last month, the Sudanese Armed Forces (SAF) recaptured several towns along the strategic Export Road, known locally as Sadirat, which connects the central Nile valley to the country’s west, and pushed the paramilitary Rapid Support Forces (RSF) into a defensive crouch across much of the centre of the country.

On the back of these gains, SAF leaders are now speaking more confidently of defeating the RSF entirely, rather than merely containing it.

But look east, to Sudan’s Blue Nile state, and the picture inverts. In mid-August, the RSF and its ally, the Sudan People’s Liberation Movement-North (led by Abdulaziz al-Hilu), retook Kurmuk and seized Geisan within days, in attacks that Sudanese military sources said were launched from across the border in Ethiopia. Drone attacks on multiple army-controlled cities this month also showed that the RSF’s reach extends well beyond Darfur, its main territorial stronghold.

The lesson of the summer, then, is not that the SAF is on the verge of decisive victory. It is that military victory and political resolution are becoming two very different things. Even a full RSF defeat may not end Sudan’s war so much as fracture it into several smaller conflicts.

A look at the coalitions doing the fighting helps explain why. The anti-RSF coalition is coordinated and led by the SAF, but the army also relies on allied armed movements, including Darfuri factions that signed the 2020 Juba Peace Agreement (JPA). These include Finance Minister Gibril Ibrahim’s Justice and Equality Movement (JEM) and the Sudan Liberation Movement, led by Darfur Governor Minni Minnawi. The JPA required their forces to be integrated into Sudan’s military and security services, but they have been reluctant to give up the military autonomy that underpins their political leverage.

Yasser al-Atta, then assistant commander-in-chief and now army chief of staff, announced in March that the army would activate mechanisms to organise and integrate allied irregular groups into the formal military and security services, but little has happened since.

Al-Atta wasn’t even the first to promise to address the problems of the proliferation of weapons and armed groups. Two years earlier, deputy commander-in-chief Shams al-Din Kabbashi told a graduation ceremony for Minni Minnawi’s Sudan Liberation Movement fighters that the army had “begun enacting a law and structures to control the many popular resistance groups”, warning that the array of semi-autonomous militias, tribal coalitions and volunteers backing the SAF’s war efforts, the “popular resistance” as it is called, would “become the next danger if we continue this way”.

More than two years on from Kabbashi’s speech, the underlying problem remains largely unresolved.

Then there is the RSF’s own coalition, which is actively fragmenting. A string of senior figures, al-Nour al-Qubba, al-Savanna, and more recently, the RSF-appointed governor for the Kordofan region, Hamad Khalifa, have defected, amid reports of Saudi financial inducements as well as tribal grievances.

When al-Nour al-Qubba left, he took dozens of combat vehicles and a large contingent of fighters with him. Given that the RSF is a franchise more than a unified fighting force, these defections should worry the SAF as much as they comfort it: defectors often arrive as intact forces loyal to their commanders, not soldiers used to reporting to a chain of command. In a way, the SAF inherits the RSF’s structural weakness with each defection.

Another example is Abu Aqla Keikel, an SAF-trained officer who initially fought on the army’s side after the war erupted in 2023, before defecting to the RSF later that year and then back to the SAF in October 2024. His Sudan Shield Forces remain, in practice, more under his own command than the army’s, even as he appears alongside SAF leadership and Darfuri commanders at recent battlefield-victory photo ops.

Many commanders inside the anti-RSF camp maintain a fairly wide margin of operational independence and consequently their own political calculations. This will become far more apparent once the war ends and there is no longer a common enemy to paper over the differences.

Sudan’s Islamists, meanwhile, occupy a strange position. Brigades like al-Baraa ibn Malik, affiliated with Sudan’s Islamic Movement, which underpinned Omar al-Bashir’s former ruling National Congress Party (NCP), supplied thousands of fighters and were instrumental in retaking Khartoum from the RSF. The United States has sanctioned al-Baraa ibn Malik, while the European Union has sanctioned its leader, al-Misbah Abu Zaid. Amid this international pressure and SAF battlefield gains, some Islamist fighters and leaders have begun pulling back, in what one Sudan Tribune report described as a “tactical withdrawal”. Al-Misbah recently posted that “we have returned to our civilian lives”.

But retreating from the battlefield is not the same as retreating from politics. Ahmed Haroun, chairman of the former ruling NCP, told Reuters news agency last year that the Islamic Movement could support an extended period of army rule, with an eye towards returning to government through “the ballot box”, as Haroun put it.

Indeed, another potential flashpoint for the SAF is that the war has given fighters in Islamist brigades like al-Baraa ibn Malik years of battlefield experience. There is little reason to think fighters who helped recapture the capital will disarm and disband the moment the war is over, at least not without a political settlement that creates a path for demobilisation.

This is the context in which SAF chief and de facto president General Abdel Fattah al-Burhan’s recently announced national dialogue should be read, less as a comprehensive resolution to the country’s militia problem than as a political process that could convert the army’s wartime alliances into post-war influence.

Burhan has explicitly ruled out the return of RSF leaders to power, promising there would be no “incomplete peace” that allowed Hemedti or other RSF leaders back into government. Given the RSF’s abysmal human rights record during the war, the exclusion is defensible, but the broader armed-group problem remains unresolved: namely, how the RSF’s remaining forces would actually be dismantled or integrated, particularly in Darfur, and how the SAF’s own allied militias would be brought under a single chain of command once the shooting slows down.

Another structural problem that is older than this war reinforces why claims of total victory remain elusive. The Sudanese army has long struggled to project sustained power across the country’s peripheries. Under Omar al-Bashir, the government relied on Janjaweed militias to help the army fight the rebellion in Darfur. In 2013, many Janjaweed fighters were brought into the newly created RSF.

There is little reason to think a hollowed-out, cash-poor SAF, dependent on volunteer recruits, Islamist militias and Juba Peace Agreement signatory forces, can now succeed where the pre-war state repeatedly struggled: in Darfur, a region roughly the size of France, where the RSF continues to use cross-border supply routes.

Even if the RSF is somehow eventually broken, its weapons and its fighters will not simply disappear. They will pass to whichever political entrepreneur is best positioned to pick them up. Meanwhile, in Khartoum, the questions of the day after will pry open conflicts that the war has, for now, kept closed.

The views expressed in this article are the author’s own and do not necessarily reflect Al Jazeera’s editorial stance.

Sudan’s war is showing signs of a changing dynamic. Sudanese armed forces (SAF) have made a series of gains in North Kordofan state; the paramilitary group Rapid Support Forces (RSF) is facing a new wave of defections; and army chief General Abdel Fattah al-Burhan is opening a political track while insisting the military campaign will continue.

Army advances are putting pressure on RSF supply lines; defections are raising questions about the force’s cohesion; and al-Burhan, who also heads the Transitional Sovereignty Council, is seeking to shape a political process from a position strengthened by developments on the battlefield.

But the wider battlefield remains contested. Together, the military pressure, defections and political outreach point to a potentially important shift: battlefield developments may be starting to affect the political balance.

What has the army gained?

The clearest recent gains have come in North Kordofan, a state in central Sudan that links the capital, Khartoum, with the country’s western regions.

In late July, the army announced that it had retaken Bara, Jabra al-Sheikh and Umm Sayala, along with other positions in the state. Al Jazeera reported that the advances also secured the national Exports Road, a key route linking Khartoum, through Omdurman, with el-Obeid, the capital of North Kordofan.

The gains do not amount to control of the wider Kordofan region. But they have significance beyond the territory captured.

The army’s control of the Exports Road has strengthened its position in North Kordofan and added pressure on RSF supply lines. Al Jazeera reported on August 21 that the army was continuing efforts to cut those supply lines as fighting expanded across Kordofan, Darfur and the Blue Nile region.

What do the RSF defections mean?

The battlefield pressure has coincided with a marked increase in defections from the RSF.

On August 20, the army announced that about 318 people, including four officers, had joined its ranks, arriving in Northern state in about 50 combat vehicles before moving to Omdurman. Al Jazeera also reported separate groups from Kordofan and Khartoum, including 270 people, among them 21 field commanders, as well as 45 fighters and commanders from the Bara area who surrendered to the army.

The numbers alone do not tell the story. The timing does.

Al Jazeera’s August 21 analysis links the growing defections to several factors, including battlefield developments, internal problems within the RSF, social and tribal dynamics, and pressure created by the army’s advances and efforts to disrupt RSF supply lines. It also notes that the trend does not by itself mean the RSF is collapsing.

If the trend continues, it could become increasingly significant, particularly if more commanders and fighters conclude that the battlefield balance is shifting against the RSF.

For now, the more cautious conclusion is that battlefield pressure may be affecting the RSF’s cohesion without yet amounting to a broader breakdown of the organisation.

Why is al-Burhan opening a political track?

The SAF chief’s political initiative is unfolding alongside these military developments.

On August 15, he announced that the state would provide temporary immunity and legal, political and security guarantees to participants in a national dialogue managed by an independent national mechanism. Criminal proceedings against participants facing charges would be suspended during their involvement in the dialogue, without removing the rights of those who had filed complaints.

Al-Burhan said the initiative came from a group of Sudanese who had approached him with a proposal for dialogue. He said the group would independently manage the process and that the state would not determine its agenda or outcomes. He also said he had begun engaging with national forces that had supported the state and its institutions, with the aim of involving them in completing state institutions, including a legislative council.

But this is not a move away from the war.

Al-Burhan said he would not accept what he called a “peace without substance” that would bring RSF commander Mohamed Hamdan Dagalo, also known as Hemedti, and his supporters to power. He also said the path to peace begins with the RSF leaving cities and being gathered in designated areas.

On August 21, Al Jazeera reported that al-Burhan said the fighting would continue until what he described as the rebellion was ended, while the army was working to cut RSF supply lines. He also rejected a truce that would allow the RSF to reorganise, while saying he remained open to a just peace and national dialogue that excluded the RSF.

Al-Burhan is therefore not choosing between war and politics. He is pursuing both, maintaining military pressure while opening a political process he says should preserve the state and its institutions.

What does Malik Agar’s position reveal?

Malik Agar, deputy chairman of the Transitional Sovereignty Council, has made the government’s position even clearer.

In an interview with Al Jazeera on August 22, Agar said the current option was military resolution unless serious conditions for negotiations emerged. He said the RSF would have to withdraw from cities and residential areas before negotiations could begin, stressing that the government remained open to initiatives that preserve Sudan’s unity and state institutions.

In a separate Al Jazeera interview published on August 23, Agar said the army would win but that the war would ultimately end through negotiations.

He argued that Sudan’s crisis was rooted in deeper problems, including the weakness of the state and the failure of political elites to manage the country’s ethnic, cultural, religious and geographic diversity.

His position reflects the government’s broader calculation: maintain military pressure while leaving the door open to negotiations from a stronger position on the battlefield.

Can al-Burhan turn battlefield pressure into political leverage?

The army’s gains in North Kordofan have strengthened its position along a strategically important route. The growing defections from the RSF are raising questions about the force’s cohesion. At the same time, the RSF remains active on several fronts, and the wider battlefield remains contested.

That combination gives the recent developments significance beyond individual battles or defections. The changing military balance may now be beginning to shape the terms of Sudan’s next political phase.

For al-Burhan, the potential advantage is not simply territorial. If military pressure continues to produce defections and weaken RSF cohesion, it could give the SAF greater room to shape who participates in a political process and the conditions under which future negotiations take place.

For the RSF, the challenge is therefore not only to hold territory. It is to prevent battlefield pressure from becoming an internal crisis of cohesion.

That has not happened yet. Military setbacks do not automatically translate into political marginalisation.

The army’s recent gains are best understood not as evidence of a decisive victory, but as a shift in the conditions under which the next phase of the war may be fought, and eventually negotiated.

Can the RSF contain the defections and preserve its bargaining position, or will continued military pressure give al-Burhan greater leverage in Sudan’s next political phase?

Dean Herrington won his first game as football coach at St. Bernard last week, but the story you had to see to believe was the 6-foot-9 kid who came in to boot extra points.

Garang-Garang Macham is a basketball player from Sudan who joined the football team as a kicker. Soccer is the most popular sport in Sudan, so it’s no surprise he knows how to kick a ball with his big leg. He made two PATs in his first game.

“He wanted to kick last year but couldn’t,” Herrington said.

The question is, was there a uniform for a 6-9 football player?

“The extra large pants fit him,” Herrington said.

And what about trick plays using his height?

“I asked him, ‘You want us to throw the ball up at the goal line and you can outjump them?’ He told me he can’t catch.”

Basketball coach Bernard McCrumby was skeptical of his kicking ability. “Coach, I can kick,” he said.

Now McCrumby and his basketball teammates are out there cheering him on.

“I’m nervous every time he gets out there, but he loves it,” McCrumby said.

This is a daily look at the positive happenings in high school sports. To submit any news, please email eric.sondheimer@latimes.com.

Egypt’s response to Ethiopia’s new Nile dam plans is centred on diplomacy, international pressure and cooperation with Sudan, rather than trying to stop construction outright. However, the experience of the Grand Ethiopian Renaissance Dam (GERD) has exposed the limits of Cairo’s influence.

The revival of three proposed Blue Nile hydropower projects – Karadobi, Mandaya and Beko Abo – will test whether Egypt can turn more than a decade of opposition into practical leverage over how Ethiopia develops the river.

The projects have been discussed for years. A 2024 academic study drawing on Nile Basin Initiative-sponsored work listed all three among proposed Blue Nile projects and noted that Karadobi and Beko Abo were considered alternatives in one potential three-dam configuration.

What is new is Ethiopia’s reported move to advance them. In March, the country’s Water and Energy Ministry announced plans for the projects, according to subsequent reporting. Their combined generating potential has been reported at about 5,700 megawatts, although the figures and specifications could change because the projects remain at the planning stage.

The announcement came months after Ethiopia inaugurated the GERD in September 2025, despite years of objections from Egypt.

Why does Ethiopia want more dams?

For Ethiopia, developing the Blue Nile is closely tied to electricity generation, economic growth and energy security. Addis Ababa argues that expanding hydropower is essential for a country where millions of people have historically lacked reliable access to electricity.

The three projects fit into that wider strategy. However, their eventual impact on Egypt and Sudan will depend on what Ethiopia builds and how the facilities are operated.

Ezekiel Gebissa, an Ethiopian professor at Kettering University in the United States, told Al Jazeera that the consequences would depend on the scale and purpose of the projects. “Smaller dams could generate electricity for local communities without significantly reducing the volume of water reaching downstream countries,” he said, while projects linked to large-scale irrigation could have greater implications for Egypt and Sudan.

The impact will depend on various factors, including reservoir size, filling schedules, water releases and operating rules. A dam designed mainly for electricity generation would have different consequences from one linked to large-scale irrigation.

For now, the projects represent a potential new source of tension rather than proof that they will reduce the water reaching Egypt.

Why is Egypt concerned?

For Egypt, the Nile is the country’s main source of freshwater. Any major change upstream is viewed through the lens of national security.

Cairo’s concern is not Ethiopia generating electricity. It is what happens when water is stored and managed upstream, particularly during periods of drought. Egypt has therefore pushed for rules covering dam operations, drought management, water releases and information sharing.

Last September, Egypt again raised the issue at the United Nations Security Council, arguing that Ethiopia’s inauguration and operation of the GERD violated its international obligations and called for a binding agreement. Those were Egypt’s stated legal and political positions, not findings by the council.

The dispute reflects two different priorities. Ethiopia views the Blue Nile as a resource for development, while Egypt seeks guarantees over the water flows on which it depends.

What did the GERD change?

The GERD demonstrated both the reach and the limits of Egypt’s diplomatic strategy.

Ethiopia inaugurated the dam on September 9, 2025, after years of negotiations with Egypt and Sudan failed to produce the binding agreement Cairo wanted. The nearly $5bn project, funded largely by Ethiopia itself, has an installed generating capacity of about 5,150 megawatts and is now a major part of Ethiopia’s electricity system.

For Egypt, the lesson was clear: diplomatic pressure could raise international attention but could not prevent Ethiopia from completing the project.

The focus has therefore shifted. Instead of trying to stop a single dam, Cairo is now seeking a role in how existing and future projects are designed, filled and operated.

Sudan’s role

Sudan remains central to Egypt’s approach because it lies between Ethiopia and Egypt and is directly affected by developments on the Blue Nile.

However, Khartoum is not simply aligned with Cairo.

Sudan could benefit from more predictable river flows and Ethiopian electricity, while also seeking greater transparency, information sharing and safeguards around upstream projects.

Mekki Elmograbi, a Sudanese governance expert, said transparency from Ethiopia was the starting point for cooperation. “Ethiopia must share more information with Sudan and Egypt; transparency is the first step toward cooperation,” he told Al Jazeera. “Who knows whether the new projects are good or bad for Sudan if there is not enough information?”

Elmograbi said Sudan should seek cooperation with both Ethiopia and Egypt to ensure major projects do not harm its interests. But Sudan’s ability to play a larger diplomatic role is constrained by its ongoing war.

While Sudan shares some concerns with Egypt, it also has its own relationship with Ethiopia and its own priorities, including access to electricity and effective management of the river.

What leverage does Egypt have?

Egypt’s strategy has centred on diplomacy, international pressure and cooperation with Sudan, aimed at pushing Ethiopia towards greater transparency and negotiated rules.

The experience of the GERD shows that Cairo’s strongest tools are political and diplomatic rather than coercive. Egypt can raise international attention, seek support from regional partners and push for agreements on issues such as data sharing, drought management and dam operations.

The challenge is that these tools are unlikely to give Egypt the ability to stop Ethiopia from pursuing new hydropower projects or to control decisions made in Addis Ababa.

Horn of Africa analyst, Abdiwahab Sheikh, told Al Jazeera that Egypt has “meaningful but limited leverage” over Ethiopia. He said Cairo’s strongest tools are diplomacy, alliances, international law and coordination with Sudan, while economic pressure is weaker and military coercion carries significant risks.

The three Blue Nile projects will test whether Egypt can convert diplomatic pressure into practical influence. For Sheikh, the path forward lies in negotiated rules rather than confrontation.

“A practical arrangement is possible if Ethiopia, Egypt and Sudan accept transparent information exchange, advance notification, adaptive dam-management rules and mechanisms for addressing droughts and downstream impacts.”

The Red Sea does not recognise political borders as maps draw them. Instead, it binds every country on its shores to a shared fate with its neighbours across the water. When the western shore of this sea is shaken, the eastern shore does not remain untouched. This is a hard geopolitical reality that Saudi Arabia has understood well through decades of dealing with crises in the Horn of Africa and Yemen as a direct extension of its own domestic security.

It is through this deep understanding of geography as a shared destiny that the agreement establishing the Saudi-Sudanese Coordination Council, signed in Riyadh on August 17, 2026, should be read. It is the institutional expression of a firmly held Saudi conviction: that the stability of a unified Sudan is indispensable to the stability of the kingdom itself, and that Sudan’s collapse or fragmentation would inevitably become a Saudi national security crisis.

Historical ties and cultural common ground

Long before strategic considerations and geopolitical crises came to the fore, Saudis viewed Sudanese people with great respect and as among those to whom they felt closest. Since the earliest times, Hijazis have shared cultural and linguistic traits with people on the other side of the Red Sea, particularly Sudanese people.

Throughout modern history, relations between the two countries have not been marked by serious crises. Indeed, they have been distinguished by a unique historical fact: the relationship has never witnessed a political crisis between the two states or their peoples, and there has always been mutual appreciation between them. This exceptional relationship, rooted in religious, cultural and social ties, has made the two countries a rare model of intra-Arab relations that has withstood all regional storms.

Saudi Arabia has stood by Sudanese people through every ordeal, including Nile floods and natural disasters, as well as the country’s crises and civil wars. This has created a fabric of human ties that goes beyond narrow political interests. It was this unique historical legacy that made Saudi mediation welcome to both sides when the war broke out, with the Jeddah platform working to ease the conflict and address the humanitarian crisis.

Saudi Arabia’s current position towards Sudan, then, is not merely the product of cold strategic or political calculations. It is the natural extension of a relationship that lived in people’s hearts before it was translated into institutions and agreements.

A framework for strategic partnership

This relationship culminated in the Saudi-Sudanese Coordination Council, whose founding agreement was signed in Riyadh on August 17, 2026, by the two countries’ foreign ministers, Prince Faisal bin Farhan Al Saud and Mohieddin Salem. Sources say it is not merely a conventional diplomatic framework, but a comprehensive institutional platform intended to oversee 10 major strategic areas. These reflect the depth of the partnership between the two countries and their desire to move from political and humanitarian support towards a long-term strategic, economic and investment partnership.

The 10 areas covered by the council include Sudan’s reconstruction; agriculture and food security; livestock; gold and mining; the Red Sea and ports; energy and electricity; finance and banking; industry and food processing; communications and digital transformation; and tourism, real estate and services.

Taken together, these areas constitute an integrated roadmap for turning bilateral relations into a genuine development partnership, drawing on Saudi Arabia’s investment and technological capabilities and Sudan’s enormous natural and human resources.

According to the Sudanese foreign minister, the council’s priorities centre on security, defence and the economy, with the Red Sea added as an area of strategic cooperation because of its importance to both countries. This is why Sudan joined the maritime defence alliance established by Saudi Arabia on July 30, 2026. This reflects a shared understanding that security and stability are the essential preconditions for any economic development, and that Red Sea security is a shared responsibility that cannot be separated from the stability of the states along its shores.

Sudan and the wider Arab project

For more than a decade and a half, the Arab region has witnessed a wave of systematic projects of fragmentation targeting pivotal states such as Iraq, Syria, Libya, Yemen and Somalia. Countries that once played an active role in the regional order have been turned into open arenas of conflict managed by regional and international actors through local proxies. With its enormous resources and vital location connecting the Arab world with the African interior, Sudan has always been an ideal target for such a project of division.

When Saudi Arabia acts to support a path that preserves the unity of the Sudanese state and its national institutions, it objectively contributes to thwarting one link in this scheme targeting the Arab world as a whole. Every Arab state protected from fragmentation represents another defeat for this project, while every state that succumbs to it represents a victory that encourages its repetition. From this perspective, Sudanese stability is a collective Arab battle, and Saudi Arabia finds itself in the position of a state capable of leading that battle in defence of a collective Arab project that cannot afford to lose another link.

Sudan in the regional equation

Sudan occupies a unique position that makes it one of the region’s most important strategic keys: it is an Arab state that borders both the Red Sea and the Nile, connects the Horn of Africa with the Sahara, the Sahel and the Arab hinterland, and borders seven African and Arab countries.

This location makes Sudan a natural bridge between the Arab world and Africa, a vital maritime gateway on the Red Sea and a strategic water nexus on the Nile.

If a state in such a position fragments, it opens a geopolitical rupture whose effects extend from the Nile Basin to the Bab al-Mandeb Strait, and from the African Sahel to the Arabian Peninsula. The recent experience of Yemen has clearly demonstrated how the collapse of a state on the Red Sea can transform a vital maritime chokepoint such as Bab al-Mandeb from a safe commercial passage into an arena of direct threats to global shipping.

Saudi Arabia, which has paid a heavy price in both security and economic terms as a result of the war in Yemen, has realised that the security of waterways cannot be safeguarded merely by guarding the passages themselves, but by ensuring the stability of the states whose coastlines surround them.

Security beyond borders

In classical and contemporary strategic thought, the security of any major state is measured not only at its immediate borders, but also through its “strategic depth”: the wider geographical sphere that absorbs shocks before they reach the core. This idea, whose roots can be traced to strategic thinkers such as Nicholas Spykman and Walter Lippmann, holds that a state exists within a geopolitical environment that either acts as a buffer and absorbs crises, or transmits and amplifies them.

Given Saudi Arabia’s position as a pivotal regional power, it cannot content itself with securing its immediate borders while crises rage throughout its strategic surroundings. From this perspective, Sudan is not merely a neighbour across the sea, but one of the most important components of Saudi strategic depth. Its stability means stability along the kingdom’s western maritime frontier, control over flows of irregular migration and smuggling, and keeping at bay the spectre of a security vacuum that could be exploited by armed groups and extremist organisations.

When Riyadh invests in Sudan’s reconstruction and development through permanent institutional frameworks such as the Coordination Council, it is building a wall of stability around its strategic depth. It has understood that genuine security cannot be bought with walls alone, but is built through the prosperity of its neighbours.

A new Saudi approach to Red Sea security

The security of major waterways is not simply the product of military protection of the passage itself, but of the strength and stability of the states along its shores. A Red Sea bordered or surrounded by fragile or collapsed states, or states penetrated by irregular forces, is an insecure Red Sea regardless of the military capabilities of the major powers along its shores.

From this lesson, a more mature Saudi vision has emerged: it is not enough for the kingdom to be strong on the eastern shore. The states along the western shore and the Red Sea’s southern approaches, including Sudan, Eritrea, Djibouti and Somalia, must also be strong, cohesive and capable of exercising full sovereignty over their coastlines. By placing the “Red Sea” alongside security and defence among its areas of focus, the Saudi-Sudanese Coordination Council puts this philosophy into practice: strengthening Sudan’s ability to control its coastline is a direct Saudi investment in the security of the Red Sea as a whole.

The responsibility of regional power

The Saudi-Sudanese Coordination Council is an expression of a broader political philosophy embraced by Riyadh: genuine regional power does not grow stronger by isolating itself behind borders, but by assuming responsibility for the stability of its surroundings. At a time when projects of fragmentation are proliferating, supporting Sudan’s unity, strengthening Saudi strategic depth and safeguarding Red Sea security are three sides of the same coin.

When Saudi Arabia safeguards the unity of its neighbour, it safeguards the integrity of its own strategic project. When it protects the stability of the Sudanese coast, it protects the stability of its own. This is the dialectic of shared geography: neither neighbour can be secure without the other, and neither shore can be stable without the one opposite it.

The views expressed in this article are the author’s own and do not necessarily reflect Al Jazeera’s editorial stance.

Sudan’s prolonged war is creating risks that extend well beyond its borders. The growing role of Islamist armed groups, including the Al-Baraa Bin Malik Brigade, could further complicate the country’s political and security landscape while creating new challenges for China’s economic and strategic interests in the Red Sea, East Africa and the Horn of Africa.

The Al-Baraa Bin Malik Brigade, an Islamist militia associated with the Sudanese Islamic Movement, has been one of the armed formations supporting the Sudanese Armed Forces (SAF) during the conflict. In September 2025, the U.S. Treasury Department sanctioned the brigade over its involvement in Sudan’s civil war and alleged connections to Iran. In March 2026, Washington designated the Sudanese Muslim Brotherhood, also known as the Sudanese Islamic Movement, as a terrorist organization and updated the brigade’s designation accordingly.

These measures have increased the international pressure on Sudanese Islamist networks and could complicate their future role within the country’s political and security institutions. For China, however, the issue is less about the ideological orientation of these groups than about the possibility that their growing influence could contribute to a broader fragmentation of Sudan’s security environment.

A security vacuum with regional consequences

The continuing conflict has already weakened Sudanese state institutions and created space for armed groups to expand their influence. The danger for Beijing is that prolonged fragmentation could transform Sudan into an environment in which local, regional and external actors compete through armed proxies.

Such a development would have consequences beyond Sudan itself. The country occupies a strategically important position on the Red Sea, while its internal conflict is increasingly interconnected with developments in neighboring states and wider regional security dynamics.

China has consistently called for a ceasefire, protection of civilians and a political settlement in Sudan. Following attacks on Port Sudan in May 2025, Beijing called for the protection of civilian facilities and civilians and urged all parties to work toward an early ceasefire and the restoration of peace and stability.

This approach reflects a broader Chinese preference for protecting its economic and diplomatic interests without becoming directly involved in Sudan’s internal conflict.

For Beijing, therefore, the emergence of increasingly autonomous armed formations represents a potential strategic problem. The greater the fragmentation of Sudan’s security institutions, the more difficult it becomes to protect infrastructure, commercial interests and Chinese nationals while maintaining a policy of non-interference.

Why the Red Sea matters to Beijing

Sudan’s Red Sea coastline gives the conflict a significance that extends far beyond the country itself.

The Red Sea is a critical maritime corridor linking Europe, the Middle East, Africa and Asia. Any deterioration in security along Sudan’s coast could add to the risks already affecting commercial navigation in the wider Red Sea and Bab el-Mandeb area.

For China, the issue is particularly important because the country is heavily dependent on secure maritime trade routes. Instability along the Red Sea can increase shipping costs, disrupt supply chains and complicate the movement of Chinese goods between Asia, Europe and Africa.

The risks are therefore not limited to projects formally identified with the Belt and Road Initiative. They extend to China’s wider commercial, energy and logistical interests across the region.

Sudan’s instability could also affect Chinese companies operating in infrastructure, energy, mining and other sectors. The safety of Chinese workers and businesses becomes increasingly difficult to guarantee when state authority is fragmented and armed groups operate with greater autonomy.

The South Sudan connection

One of the most important dimensions of Sudan’s instability for China is its potential impact on South Sudan.

South Sudan’s economy remains heavily dependent on oil exports, while much of the country’s oil reaches international markets through infrastructure crossing Sudan. Any prolonged disruption to Sudanese territory, oil infrastructure or export facilities could therefore have consequences for South Sudan’s production and revenues.

This matters to China because Beijing has significant economic and diplomatic interests in South Sudan. China and South Sudan established a strategic partnership in 2024, and China remains one of South Sudan’s major trading partners, with crude oil constituting a major component of bilateral trade.

Consequently, instability in Sudan could create an indirect risk to China’s interests in South Sudan even without any direct Chinese involvement in the Sudanese conflict.

The relationship between the two countries also demonstrates why Beijing is unlikely to view Sudan solely through the lens of the Sudanese civil war. Developments in Sudan can affect neighboring states, energy flows, infrastructure networks and regional trade routes in which China has invested for decades.

China’s limited but expanding security footprint

China has sought to protect its interests in the region while avoiding direct military involvement in Sudan’s war.

Its military presence in Djibouti provides Beijing with an established logistical and security position around the western Indian Ocean and the Red Sea. At the same time, China’s broader commercial presence in Djibouti has continued to expand, reinforcing the country’s importance as a regional trade and logistics hub.

This does not mean that China is preparing to intervene militarily in Sudan. Rather, the existence of a Chinese military and commercial presence in the wider region gives Beijing additional capabilities for protecting its nationals, supporting maritime security and responding to emergencies if regional instability intensifies.

China’s activities in South Sudan also demonstrate a gradual expansion from purely economic engagement toward broader cooperation in areas such as security and public-sector capacity. In June 2026, for example, China handed over a Chinese-aided digital forensic laboratory to South Sudanese authorities, describing improved public-security management as important to national stability.

Beijing is therefore building relationships and capabilities that can help it protect its interests without becoming a direct party to regional conflicts.

The Islamist factor

The future role of Sudanese Islamist organizations remains an important variable.

The international designation of the Sudanese Muslim Brotherhood and the Al-Baraa Bin Malik Brigade could make it more difficult for these networks to operate openly through political or institutional channels. At the same time, pressure on an armed or ideological movement does not necessarily eliminate its influence. It can instead encourage the movement to adapt, fragment or seek alternative forms of political and social organization.

For China, this creates an additional layer of uncertainty.

Beijing has little incentive to become involved in Sudan’s ideological disputes. Its primary concern is whether political fragmentation and the proliferation of armed groups will threaten the stability required for trade, investment, energy flows and the safety of Chinese citizens.

The more Sudan’s conflict develops into a competition involving multiple armed and externally supported actors, the more difficult it becomes for China to maintain its preferred strategy of pragmatic engagement with all sides.

What China is likely to do

China’s response is likely to remain cautious and pragmatic.

Beijing is unlikely to seek a direct military role in Sudan unless its citizens, facilities or broader maritime interests face a severe and immediate threat. Instead, China is likely to continue supporting diplomatic efforts, calling for dialogue and a political settlement while maintaining relations with Sudanese institutions and neighboring countries.

China’s recent diplomatic position toward Sudan and South Sudan reinforces this approach. At the United Nations, Beijing has continued to emphasize political solutions and stability in the region, while maintaining engagement with both Sudan and South Sudan. In May 2026, China’s permanent representative to the UN warned that the continuing conflict in Sudan and instability in South Sudan were delaying the Abyei political process and called for greater attention to the security situation.

This suggests that Beijing sees the Sudanese conflict increasingly as part of a wider regional security problem rather than an isolated domestic crisis.

The central challenge for China is therefore not simply the rise of one Islamist militia. It is the possibility that Sudan’s institutional fragmentation will produce a durable security vacuum connecting the country’s internal conflict with instability in South Sudan, threats to Red Sea navigation and competition among regional and international powers.

If that happens, Sudan could become a much more serious strategic problem for Beijing.

China’s interests in the region depend on stability without requiring China itself to become responsible for providing it. The longer Sudan’s war continues, the harder that balance becomes to maintain.

The rulings allow the Trump administration to end Temporary Protected Status for nationals of the two countries.

Two federal judges have cleared the way for President Donald Trump’s administration to end temporary protections from deportation for people who have come to the United States from South Sudan and Myanmar.

Judges in Boston, Massachusetts and Chicago, Illinois on Friday rejected last-ditch efforts by immigrant-rights advocates to maintain the Temporary Protected Status (TPS) designations for the two countries after the US Supreme Court in June allowed the administration to end similar protections for thousands of people from Haiti and Syria.

TPS shields people from deportation and grants work authorisation when their home countries are affected by armed conflict, natural disasters or other extraordinary conditions. The terminations would end protections for about 232 South Sudanese nationals and roughly 4,000 people from Myanmar, according to the Reuters news agency.

The Supreme Court decision had limited lower courts’ ability to block the Department of Homeland Security’s (DHS) efforts to end TPS for people from roughly a dozen countries, arguing the executive branch maintained broad authority to make decisions on the programme.

After the Supreme Court’s ruling, immigrant-rights lawyers made a new challenge, arguing that DHS lacked the authority to terminate TPS.

But US District Judge Patti Saris in Boston rejected the argument, saying it would not only call into question DHS authority to end TPS but also its longstanding authority to extend the protections.

Judge Matthew Kennelly in Chicago made a similar conclusion in the Myanmar case hours later.

Advocates have warned the rulings leave TPS recipients, who had been given an “administrative stay” amid the ongoing legal battle that allowed them to continue to work and live in the US, exposed to possible deportation to countries still gripped by conflict and instability.

DHS had moved in November 2025 to end TPS for South Sudan, which has held the designation since 2011 amid ongoing conflict, and Myanmar, in political turmoil since a 2021 military coup.

James Percival, General Counsel of DHS, said the new rulings leave only TPS terminations for Ethiopian and Somalian nationals, which are still blocked by courts.

“Every day these ‘administrative stays’ are in effect is a day the American people are denied what they voted for,” he wrote on X.

Women displaced by Sudan’s war are speaking publicly about surviving rape by Rapid Support Forces fighters. UN investigators verified 546 incidents affecting at least 838 victims, warning the documented cases represent only the tip of the iceberg.

Egypt has moved from rhetorical backing of Sudan’s army to active enabler of its war effort, with a covert drone hub on Egyptian soil symbolising how Cairo has tied its regional strategy to the survival of the Sudanese Armed Forces (SAF) against the Rapid Support Forces (RSF).

Since fighting erupted between the SAF and RSF in April 2023, Egypt has framed its stance as defence of Sudan’s “unity, sovereignty and territorial integrity” and of its “national institutions, particularly the Sudanese Armed Forces.” Officially, President Abdel Fattah al‑Sisi repeats pledges of “non‑interference,” presenting Egypt’s role as limited to mediation, humanitarian aid and hosting Sudanese refugees.

In practice, that line has steadily eroded. Years of joint drills, intelligence sharing and arms ties since 2019 created deep interoperability between the two militaries, well before the civil war began. Egyptian troops captured by the RSF at Merowe airbase in April 2023 were explained away as being on pre‑scheduled exercises, a narrative few regional observers accepted.

The New York Times investigation into East Oweinat in Egypt’s Western Desert crystallises this shift from backstage support to direct operational involvement. Satellite imagery, flight records and videos show a once‑civil agricultural airstrip expanded since 2018 with a second runway, new hangars and satellite links, and by 2025 hosting Turkish Akinci combat drones.

According to U.S. and European officials cited in that reporting, those drones have for at least six months flown strike missions into Sudan, hitting RSF targets up to hundreds of miles inside the country, including convoys on supply routes from Libya and Chad. The drones and their munitions match Turkish systems, but are based on Egyptian territory and shield Sudan’s military assets from RSF retaliation, blurring whether Cairo is merely hosting or also directing the campaign.

For Cairo, East Oweinat offers plausible deniability: operations are embedded in a desert reclamation project far from public scrutiny, yet close enough to Sudan’s border to project sustained air power. For Sudan’s army, it is a lifeline in a war where the RSF has excelled at capturing bases and shooting down drones; at least several Akinci units have reportedly been lost to RSF fire in recent months.

RSF statements and battlefield evidence further illuminate the depth of Egyptian support. In January 2026 the RSF published what it called “irrefutable” proof of Egypt’s direct role, citing captured Egyptian‑made ammunition, armoured vehicles and testimonies from detained SAF‑aligned commanders who described arms, training and medical support routed from Egypt.

Egypt’s wager on the SAF is rooted in hard security and regime‑survival logic. Egyptian strategists see Sudan’s collapse as an existential threat, evoking fears of refugee flows and arms smuggling on a porous southern frontier. Control of the Nile is still more fundamental: since the 2019 fall of Omar al‑Bashir, Cairo has tightened security and military coordination with Khartoum to present a united front against Ethiopia’s GERD and protect its historic water share.

There is also an ideological affinity. General Abdel Fattah al‑Burhan is a career officer with long‑standing ties to Egyptian commanders, and his military rule mirrors Sisi’s own path from barracks to presidency. Backing the SAF fits a long‑standing Egyptian instinct to side with Sudan’s regular army “whoever is in charge of it,” and more broadly to prefer strong central militaries over unruly civilian transitions in the Arab world. The SAF’s reliance upon Muslim Brotherhood–aligned militias and ideologues, including the glorification of early militant figures such as Bara Bin Malik, against the backdrop of Washington’s formal designation of key Muslim Brotherhood chapters as terrorist organisations, should be unsettling to Cairo.

Yet by 2026, Egypt’s bet looks increasingly brittle. The war has killed tens of thousands, displaced more than 14 million and pushed parts of Sudan close to famine, while neither side has secured decisive control. Burhan’s legitimacy is deeply disputed: he led the 2021 coup that derailed a fragile civilian‑military transition, and many of the forces that drove the 2018–19 uprising see him as the continuation of military dominance, not a route to elections.

Cairo’s categorical rejection of “parallel entities” and alternative governments in exile is presented as a defence of Sudanese unity, but in effect delegitimises broad civilian coalitions trying to organise outside the SAF–RSF binary. By equating Sudan’s “national institutions” with the current military leadership, Egypt narrows the field of acceptable interlocutors to a junta whose territorial control and popular backing are both eroding.

At the same time, Egypt seeks recognition as a mediator, through formats like the Quad and by hosting conferences of Sudanese civil and political actors in Cairo. That posture sits uneasily with explicit promises not to be “lax or late in supporting the legitimate Sudanese government” under Burhan, and with mounting evidence of Egyptian‑based air operations in the conflict. The covert base in the desert, and the drones that rise from its runways toward Sudanese skies, have become emblematic of a policy that claims non‑interference while in practice helping to lock Sudan into a devastating, externalised war.

Charity warns that shrinking humanitarian support could threaten efforts to support communities trying to rebuild lives after 1,200 days of conflict.

The International Federation of Red Cross and Red Crescent Societies (IFRC) has called for greater international support for Sudan, saying humanitarian needs are escalating while funding falls far short.

“Sudan is one of the world’s largest humanitarian crises, yet it is also one of its most overlooked” IFRC Special Envoy for Sudan, Derk Segaar, told reporters in Geneva after returning from the Sudan.

Sudan plunged into all-out war in April 2023 between the paramilitary Rapid Support Forces (RSF) and the Sudanese military, leading to the deaths of at least 59,000 people, according to Armed Conflict Location and Event Data, a conflict monitoring group.

Aid groups say the figure is an undercount and the true number could be many times higher.

Segaar said while some aid is trickling into Kordofan and Darfur regions, the whole of Sudan has been devastated by the war, including Khartoum, where millions lack reliable electricity, clean water and healthcare, as cholera, malnutrition and floods pose additional risks.

He said 35 million people require humanitarian assistance, more than 9 million are internally displaced, and fighting has driven 4.5 million people out of Sudan.

Fighting

Speaking before a gathering of soldiers, Sudanese Army Lieutenant-General Yasser al-Atta on Monday said the military is advancing on all fronts with the aim of eliminating the RSF before the end of the year.

The location of the gathering was not specified.

“We are implementing the theory of advancing in all directions, with all fronts moving simultaneously, as happened during the recapture of Khartoum state,” al-Atta said.

“Before the end of this year, there will not be a single Janjaweed fighter,” he said, using a term to refer to the RSF, “or a foreign fighter, and we are determined to achieve that”.

Al-Atta’s remarks came days after the army and allied forces carried out a rapid operation in which they seized Bara, Jabra al-Sheikh, Um Sayala and other positions along a key road connecting Omdurman with el-Obeid in North Kordofan.

Sudan’s three Kordofan states – North, West and South – have witnessed continued fighting between the army and the RSF since October 2025.

Diplomacy

Meanwhile, the United Nations is ramping up efforts to get the stalled political process on track.

The UN says representatives from five international organisations, including the African Union, the Intergovernmental Authority on Development (IGAD), the European Union and the League of Arab States held talks with Sudanese political parties on Monday.

“Building on exploratory consultations held in Addis Ababa in June, the Quintet engaged Sudanese civilian political leaders in recent days. Discussions continued on proposals and perspectives for advancing the political process, including through the establishment of confidence-building measures,” said UN deputy spokesman Farhan Haq.

The UN Secretary-General’s Personal Envoy for Sudan, Pekka Haavisto, is also talking with RSF leader General Mohamed Hamdan Dagalo to discuss reducing escalation.

Tens of thousands have been killed since April 2023 in the war between RSF commander Mohamed Hamdan Dagalo and his former ally, army chief Abdel Fattah al-Burhan.

At least 35 people were killed, and several others wounded, when Sudanese army drones struck a traditional court in western Darfur, a rights group has said.

The Emergency Lawyers group, which has documented abuses by both sides of the three-year civil war in Sudan, said the strike on Sunday hit a court in the village of Garra al-Zawaya in North Darfur state at about 1pm local time (11:00 GMT).

It said civilians had “gathered to attend hearings on local cases and disputes” when the attack took place.

The village is under the control of the paramilitary Rapid Support Forces (RSF).

Tens of thousands of people have been killed since the war began in April 2023 between supporters of RSF commander Mohamed Hamdan Dagalo and his former ally, Sudanese army chief Abdel Fattah al-Burhan.

The court building, which serves as a traditional institution for resolving local and tribal feuds, was also damaged in the strike, Emergency Lawyers said.

“The court session was being held under a tree with the participation of local community leaders,” a witness from the area told the AFP news agency on condition of anonymity for safety reasons.

Among those killed were “four tribal leaders and two RSF commanders”, the witness added.

Garra al-Zawaya lies near the town of Kabkabiya, about 150km (93 miles) west of el-Fasher, the army’s last stronghold in Darfur, which the RSF captured after a bloody offensive in October last year.

United Nations investigators have said violence linked to the RSF siege and capture of el-Fasher bore “the hallmarks of genocide”.

Following its takeover of the city, the RSF – which emerged from the government-backed militia known as the Janjaweed, accused of atrocities in Darfur in the early 2000s – consolidated control over much of the region.

Since that campaign, both sides have increasingly relied on drone warfare. According to the UN, more than 1,000 civilians were killed in drone strikes during the first five months of this year.

The conflict has also displaced millions and created what the UN describes as the world’s largest humanitarian crisis.

This episode examines how mass violence in Darfur has been constructed over time and why many activists, governments and courts have labelled it genocide, even as that term remains politically contested. It traces how environmental stress, neglect of the peripheries and competition over land fed grievances between communities. It shows how Khartoum armed and mobilised militias, how racialised language framed “Arabs” and “Africans” as enemies and how aerial bombing, burning of villages and mass displacement became tools of policy. Through survivors’ testimony and legal analysis, the film follows the path from counterinsurgency to crimes against humanity and alleged genocide and asks what justice has – and has not – been delivered for Darfur.

Built in 1875 and modelled on the Chapelle Saint-Marc in Lyon, the church was originally intended to be the chapel for St Joseph University, which was opened by French Jesuits as part of France’s colonial-era “civilising mission”.

Its pale stone facade rises above a busy Beirut street. Today, it remains under Jesuit stewardship, with Father Michael Petro leading the parish.

“It’s an interesting space, because it is on the edge of Ashrafieh, a predominantly Christian, francophone area, which has plenty of wealthy Lebanese people living in it. But it also has their domestic workers. From the start of the first waves of migrants in the 70s, this place became known as a place for them,” he tells Al Jazeera.

Every Sunday, during peacetime, the gravel car park is transformed into a cricket ground. Indian and Pakistani migrant workers play softball cricket while families sit on the sidelines sharing home-cooked food, catching up with friends and enjoying one of their few days away from work.

Today, the atmosphere is very different.

Instead of the crack of a plastic bat and Bollywood music spilling across the church grounds, rows of mattresses line the floors, and laundry hangs from railings. Men slouch on plastic chairs littered around the church, scrolling through their phones. Women carry blankets and washed clothes in plastic tubs. Only the children seem able to break the subdued mood, darting between adults and filling the space with bursts of laughter.

“When the war escalated, we immediately had large groups of Sudanese and South Sudanese come here,” Father Michael says. “They showed up because they would ask community leaders what to do, and were told to come here, as it is the first place they trusted.

“On one hand, that’s very beautiful, because people thought they would be welcome here, and they were.”

However, the strain of being a first port of call for so many displaced migrants is beginning to show.

Supplies are low, and tensions occasionally flare among those sheltering at the church. Father Michael says the church reached its capacity of 250 people on just the second day of the war.

“We’ve turned away more than 100 people in the last few days,” he says. “It’s a disaster.”

Mohammad says daily life has become increasingly difficult, particularly since the arrival of their son.

“We do not have enough clothes, especially now that the baby is growing. Also, my wife’s nutrition is not great. Sometimes she gets constipated, and then the baby becomes ill. We need more protein and vegetables. The diet is a huge concern.”

Living in crowded conditions, surrounded by uncertainty, has taken a toll on people’s mental wellbeing, Rufaida says.

“Because of the atmosphere and mental health problems, small problems become big ones. I said good morning to someone, and they didn’t like it. There are no big fights, but there is an underlying tension.”

Both say they understand why tempers sometimes fray. Many of those sheltering at the church have fled war, lost homes and spent months or years living with uncertainty.

Small problems become big ones.

by RUFAIDA, DISPLACED SUDANESE MOTHER

Their gratitude is rooted partly in what happened when Rufaida sought maternity care.

At Karatina Hospital, they say they were repeatedly overlooked by doctors in favour of Lebanese patients. “We were there to get papers so she could give birth in that hospital, but we were ignored, and Lebanese people were allowed into consultations first,” Mohammad says.

After waiting for three hours, a worker from the Jesuit Refugee Service (JRS), who had accompanied them to the hospital, intervened and helped ensure they were seen.

Through support coordinated by JRS and partner organisations, the entire cost of Rufaida’s pregnancy was covered, including prenatal care, the cesarean delivery and Ahmad’s vaccinations.

“It gave me comfort and peace that I was able to deliver in a safe environment,” Rufaida says.

Their experience is increasingly common among Sudanese migrants in Lebanon, many of whom have found themselves uprooted more than once — first by war in Sudan and then by conflict in Lebanon.

Rufaida’s story is far from unique. According to figures published by the International Organization for Migration (IOM) in August 2025, there are 164,097 migrants living in Lebanon, of which 14,854 are Sudanese nationals.

That number represents only a small fraction of the 4.4 million Sudanese who have fled their country since the outbreak of civil war in April 2023.

Some, like Rufaida, arrived on tourist visas. Others found jobs as concierges or domestic workers, under Lebanon’s kafala sponsorship system, which ties a migrant worker’s legal residency to their employer.

Human Rights Watch has described the system as, at its worst, a form of modern slavery.

About 3,800 Sudanese have also found asylum in Lebanon as registered refugees with the UN Refugee Agency.

For refugees in Lebanon, a UNHCR registration card can mean far more than a piece of paper. It offers a measure of protection from detention or deportation, can unlock access to aid and education where services exist, and, for many, represents their best hope of one day being resettled in another country.

Among them is 30-year-old Roudaina Mustafa.

The order prevents thousands from El Salvador, Sudan and Ukraine from losing work authorisation while lawsuit proceeds.

A United States federal judge has temporarily blocked the administration of US President Donald Trump from revoking work permits for tens of thousands of asylum seekers and immigrants with Temporary Protected Status (TPS), preventing a policy that was set to take effect as early as Wednesday.

On Tuesday, US District Judge Nathaniel Gorton sided with immigrant rights groups and labour unions challenging a series of new US Citizenship and Immigration Services (USCIS) policies that implement immigration restrictions passed by Congress last year.

In the five-page order, he wrote, “The consequences faced by plaintiffs are potentially severe.” The order will stay in place while he considers whether to issue a longer-term injunction, with a decision expected by August 5.

The lawsuit, filed earlier this month by a coalition of organisations represented by the legal group Democracy Forward, challenged a number of recent USCIS policy changes. Those include a new policy allowing the agency to reject pending asylum applications and revoke work permits if applicants don’t pay a newly created annual asylum fee, as well as its decision to scrap a decades-old rule requiring initial asylum work permit applications to be processed within 30 days. The lawsuit argued USCIS made the changes without public input, as required by law.

It also challenged the retroactive application of the new rules to people from El Salvador, Sudan and Ukraine, who are still protected by TPS, which allows people from countries affected by war, natural disasters or other major crises to live and work legally in the US until it is considered safe for them to return home.

“This decision protects thousands of asylum seekers and TPS holders from immediate and irreparable harm while this case moves forward,” said Democracy Forward president, Skye Perryman, in a statement. “Without this relief, families who have followed the law and relied on longstanding humanitarian protections faced the sudden loss of their employment authorisation and ability to support themselves through no fault of their own.”

The ruling means thousands of TPS holders from El Salvador, Sudan and Ukraine will be able to keep working while the legal challenge moves forward.

While the judge didn’t block the collection of the asylum fee on Tuesday, he did temporarily block the consequences of not paying it, including having an individual’s application rejected or work permit terminated.

The controversial provisions were introduced as part of Trump’s signature tax and spending law, the so-called One Big Beautiful Bill Act, passed by the Republican-controlled Congress in July 2025.

The Trump administration has made ending TPS protections a central part of its immigration agenda, moving to take the status away from people from more than a dozen countries. Last month, the US Supreme Court allowed the administration to end protections for thousands of Haitian and Syrian immigrants.

USCIS did not immediately respond to a request for comment from the Reuters news agency.

Khartoum, Sudan – A senior Sudanese minister says more than three years of a devastating war in the country have “profoundly reshaped” its demographic makeup.

Minister of Human Resources and Social Development Mutasim Ahmed Saleh told Al Jazeera Arabic that his ministry was working with several partners to strengthen population policies and link them to social protection programmes.

Sudan has been embroiled in a brutal civil war between its army and the Rapid Support Forces (RSF) paramilitary since April 2023. The war is estimated to have killed about 200,000 people and displaced more than 11 million, creating what the United Nations calls the world’s largest humanitarian crisis.

The war has also affected Sudan’s demographics.

Before the war, the North African country’s population was expected to exceed 64 million by 2035, according to official data. In 2020, the population stood at about 44.4 million, with forecasts of a growth rate of about 2.39 percent – one of the highest rates globally.

The war has not only displaced millions of people internally in South Darfur, North Darfur and Central Darfur states, it has also forced tens of thousands of others to seek asylum in neighbouring countries, including Egypt, South Sudan and Chad.

Saleh said the most significant demographic changes caused by the war included a general increase in poverty levels, a large segment of citizens losing their income, the deterioration of basic services in a number of areas, and a decline in the labour market and human capital.

To mark World Population Day on July 11, the minister said his government would work for the people – “the focus and ultimate aim of the state’s attention” – and strengthen social protection programmes.

Saleh said his ministry, through the National Population Council and with other state partners, would strengthen Sudan’s population policies and link them to social protection, the voluntary return of refugees, the reintegration of displaced people, and human resource development to contribute to rebuilding the country’s human capital as the “cornerstone of national recovery and sustainable development”.

He said that investing in people was “the real investment in Sudan’s future”.

“The more we succeed in restoring population stability and empowering citizens economically and socially, the closer we come to building a more stable, just and prosperous homeland,” Saleh said.

Population imbalance

Experts say Sudan is distinct in its demographic structure – it has a large youth population, with about 70 percent of the population under the age of 30, according to data from the last census conducted in 2008.

They say that its large youth population gives Sudan a demographic dividend that could drive economic development. But Saleh’s ministry said young people have faced challenges such as limited access to education, scarce job opportunities and widespread poverty, even before the conflict turned them into one of the worst-affected groups.

Khalid Saad, director of the Sudanese Center for Development Communication, told Al Jazeera that Sudan’s population crisis did not begin with the war.

Despite the country’s vast territory and abundant natural resources, it has suffered for decades from a clear imbalance in population distribution, he said.

“The war came to deepen this imbalance, redraw the demographic map through displacement and asylum, empty some areas of their populations, burden other cities with numbers beyond their capacity to absorb, while large numbers of people have returned to areas retaken by government forces,” he said.

Saad said the likely return of people does not mean the end of the demographic crisis, because returnees often go back to areas that have lost a large part of their economic infrastructure.

“The challenge therefore remains in rebuilding an environment that ensures their stability and prevents renewed displacement,” he said.

The war, Saad added, raises questions that still require precise answers: the actual scale of human losses; how the war has affected mortality rates; how it has changed patterns of marriage and childbearing; the impact of displacement and migration on birth rates and age structure; and how the emigration of skilled professionals will affect the size of the workforce in coming years.

Answers to these questions form the basis for any economic or social planning in the post-war phase, he said.

Data released by the National Population Council also points to a demographic imbalance.

Sudan’s urban population rose to about 17.9 million in 2020, with Khartoum alone accounting for about 42 percent of the country’s urban population, indicating a pattern of internal migration driven by uneven development.

The International Organization for Migration said that about 4.1 million people have returned to their areas of origin across Sudan. The vast majority — more than 80 percent — returned from within Sudan to nine states, led by Khartoum, Gezira and Sennar.

According to the organisation, the number of internally displaced people has fallen by 23 percent compared with the highest level recorded in January 2025, when the number of people displaced within Sudan stood at nearly 12 million.

Sudan has entered its fourth year of conflict amid a complex political and military landscape, with little hope of a resolution. Infrastructure has collapsed, and essential services remain disrupted.

Meanwhile, local and international warnings are mounting over a worsening humanitarian crisis, driven by shortages of food and medicines, and the difficulty of delivering aid to affected or besieged areas.

Renewed conflict and tensions in the Strait of Hormuz have slowed fertiliser shipments, worsening hunger in Sudan.

Sudan risks facing a deepening hunger crisis due to ongoing conflict, aid ⁠funding cuts, and rising agricultural costs driven by the global disruption caused by the Iran war, a senior World Food Programme (WFP) official has said.

“It’s a massive crisis, both in terms of numbers, but also due to the gravity,” Carl Skau, the WFP’s acting executive director, told Reuters on Tuesday.

Skau said that more than 100,000 people were still facing famine-like conditions, placing them in the highest level of the United Nations-backed Integrated Food Security Phase Classification (IPC). “With these kinds of numbers in IPC 5 starvation, it is extremely, extremely serious,” he said.

Sudan remains the world’s largest humanitarian crisis, with around five million people facing emergency or catastrophic levels of hunger, even after an intensive ‌aid response helped reduce the number of people in famine-like conditions, Skau said.

Nearly 19.5 million people across Sudan face high levels of acute food insecurity, according to the ⁠IPC. Skau said that recent fighting around el-Obeid in North Kordofan had raised fears the ⁠city could suffer a fate similar to el-Fasher in Darfur, where conflict and siege conditions trapped civilians and hindered aid deliveries, and where the paramilitary Rapid Support Forces (RSF) carried out mass killings and gang rapes after they took control of the city in the course of their three-year conflict with the Sudanese Armed Forces (SAF).

In recent days, however, violence has eased somewhat around el-Obeid, raising hopes that aid deliveries can be expanded from 100,000 to 250,000 in the area.

The WFP is ⁠also increasingly concerned about renewed fighting over the past week in Darfur, which has forced the closure of the Tine border crossing, a route from Chad ⁠into Darfur. This renewal of conflict threatens to reverse gains made after famine took hold in parts of the country, it said.

Throughout the country, the WFP has reduced the number of people ⁠it assists from five million a year ago to about 3.5 million, and reduced rations in many areas, including in Tawila in Darfur, as it faces a $646m funding gap after cuts from major donors, including the United States, European countries and Britain.

“We’re not heading in the ‌right direction here,” Skau said. “If anything, we are falling backwards.”

Skau also warned that soaring diesel prices and fertiliser shortages linked to conflict in the Gulf and the closure of the Strait of Hormuz could further undermine ‌Sudan’s food security during the current planting season.

Sudan relies heavily on fertiliser imports from Gulf countries, while much of its agriculture depends on irrigation pumps, which may be too expensive for farmers to run.

The ⁠war between SAF and the RSF, now entering its fourth year, has displaced millions and devastated much of the country. Aid agencies have repeatedly warned of worsening food insecurity and limited humanitarian access.