Sudan

NEW YORK CITY: The UN secretary-general’s personal envoy for Sudan, Pekka Haavisto, joined fellow “Quintet” mediators in Khartoum on Tuesday for a round of talks aimed at reviving an inclusive political process that can end the conflict in Sudan, the UN said.

The Quintet group — comprising the African Union, the Intergovernmental Authority on Development, the League of Arab States, the EU and the UN — held what Stephane Dujarric, spokesperson for UN Secretary-General Antonio Guterres, described as a “good offices mission” to hear an assessment by Sudanese stakeholders of the political and security situation in the country, and to share reflections on efforts to advance peace.

The envoys met at the Sudanese Foreign Ministry before engaging with representatives of UN agencies, Dujarric told reporters in New York. Next, they will meet Sudanese political and civilian representatives, followed by further engagements, he said.

Sudan has been locked in a civil war between the Sudanese Armed Forces and rival paramilitary faction the Rapid Support Forces since April 2023.

Haavisto arrived in Khartoum on Friday and held a series of meetings with the chairman of Sudan’s Transitional Sovereignty Council, the prime minister, the foreign minister and senior government officials, as well as other political leaders and representatives of civil society, Dujarric said.

Haavisto’s talks over the weekend focused on “practical measures to advance deescalation and the protection of civilians,” Dujarric added. He also raised the issue of the release and exchange of detainees, and stressed the importance of a single national examination process for all Sudanese schoolchildren.

Haavisto called for an inclusive political process alongside concrete steps to reduce violence in the country, insisting that a negotiated settlement remained “the only viable path” toward a comprehensive ceasefire agreement and a sustainable end to the conflict.

The envoy is expected to remain in Sudan until the end of this week.

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.