The Minions of Its Ill Omen

Sikka: Mamoun Eljack

This war has birthed its own “minions of ill omen,” manifested in its specific symbolic terminology. In one of his essays, novelist and short-story writer Mansour El Souwaim examines one such term: “The ’56 State.” He reads it not as the partisans of either side do—by trading arguments and refutations to validate their own positions—but rather by pointing to two specific incidents: the killing of the artist Shaden, and the passing of Fawzi Al-Mardi. Both are cultural icons—artistic and athletic—of the city of Omdurman, or of Western and Southern Sudan, and undoubtedly of Sudan as a whole. This reading achieves its purpose by shattering the claimed monopoly over the symbol.

El Souwaim positions these two incidents within a symbolic context, tied to the presumed symbolic belonging of each to the discourse of the two warring parties:

"If you stand in the corner of 'killing the ’56 State,' then your war has killed one of the icons of this state, in one of its historical and socio-cultural forms. And if you stand on that very platform (the ’56 State), your war has also assassinated one of your historical icons. But to which platform does the icon, Fawzi the Lion, actually belong?"

El Souwaim adds:

"Fawzi Al-Mardi Al-Assad (the Lion) undoubtedly belongs to the 'Old Sudan'—the Sudan of ’56—reflecting one of its indicative images, even if only on a formal or procedural level. The man was a son of the Northern elite and a son of the historical-symbolic city of this elite. For fifty years, he remained a fixture in the media, on the fields, and in administration, whether in banks or sports clubs. More precisely and succinctly, the man was one of the faces of the authority of the ’56 State. But can it be said that what Fawzi 'the Lion' represented or provided was negative or encroaching upon the rights of others on the opposite side of the equation? As a person and a great sporting icon, certainly not. Rather, we can say that he—and others—represents a fine and beautiful face of this state that is now gasping its last breath, regardless of him being an—unintentional—manifestation of the rise and ascent that accompanied the genesis of this state..."

On the other side shines the beautiful image of Shaden, with her melodious voice, her refined culture, and her grand artistic project. Shaden, coming from the Sudanese peripheries (the margins), proud of her culture and environment, was unique in her singing style—a style entirely distinct from the lyrical form consecrated in the official media channels of the ’56 State since the country’s independence until the moment her pure soul departed her body. She fell in a war that claims, in one of its facets, to call for what she struggled for throughout her short artistic life—regardless of the true motives of those carrying slogans identical to her visions, and whether they are sincere in their claims or if the violent jostling for power is what drove them to ride this "high hump" of rhetoric.

In several of his articles, Dr. Abdullahi Ali Ibrahim refutes the narrative adopted by the Rapid Support Forces (RSF) to legitimize their current war. He states:

"You may hear from some of the RSF’s 'eloquent spokesmen' that they went out in this war to put an end to the '1956 Sudan.' By this, they mean the state that inherited rule after Sudan’s independence in that year—the state accused by the forces of the 'margin' of remaining the exclusive domain of the Arab-Muslim group of the Middle Nile, monopolizing power and wealth. The question then arises: Are those in the margin entirely innocent of the 1956 State? Did they emerge from it 'like a hair from dough,' as we say in Sudan? Did they not have roles in its governments and policies? Was their only role that of the victim? In other words: Were they without 'agency' during its years that stretched for two-thirds of a century?"

This "agency," in its conceptual sense, implies that the oppressed might be a partner in the injustice visited upon them in one way or another. History refutes the credibility of this discourse by looking back at incidents and periods of governance where the alleged "margin" had a share of power and wealth.

"The margin was not shackled in its contribution to the 1956 State. Elements of it entered into contracts with its center in Khartoum and into satisfied, willing alliances. The margins of Sudan held the electoral weight, surpassing the Middle Nile region, in the three democratic periods that lasted for ten intermittent years. In those elections, they cast their votes for the traditional religious parties they belonged to—the very same parties that held the banner of rule in the ’56 State whenever it was based on parliamentarianism."

Abdullahi Ali Ibrahim attributes this discourse and its flaws to an ideological, selective kidnapping of history. He argues that the political and social reality of Sudan is far more complex, rich, and problematic than this rhetoric suggests. He challenges this discourse by taking specific examples from its historical references, such as the 1924 White Flag League Revolution against British colonial rule, and its appropriation for the benefit of this narrative—a blatant projection that ignores numerous details regarding its origin and nature.

While this historical narrative—which divides Sudan’s political geography into “Center and Margin”—formed the basis for most armed struggle movements in Sudan’s peripheries, it remains a discourse that fails to encompass the full political and historical details of this geographic expanse. Furthermore, its adoption by the Rapid Support Forces is nothing short of a bitter irony; for they "were not created to challenge the Center that was presided over by the 'Ingaz' (Salvation) government; rather, it was the Center itself that created them to serve it."