Sudan’s War of Two Governments

The war that erupted in Sudan on April 15, 2023, has now entered its second year, with fighting continuing across multiple fronts. The most striking development, however, is no longer limited to the battlefields. The Ta’sis (Foundation) Alliance, whose main forces include the Sudan People’s Liberation Movement – North (SPLM-N) led by Abdelaziz al-Hilu and the Rapid Support Forces (RSF), has announced the formation of a parallel government based in Nyala, South Darfur.

This declaration, dismissed and downplayed by most political actors and stakeholders, represents a watershed moment in the trajectory of Sudan’s conflict. It shifts the confrontation from the battlefield into the very structure of the state. Not only does it entrench the military and political divide, but it also opens the door to a new political reality built on dual legitimacy and competing governments within one territory, reminiscent of the Libyan and Yemeni models.

Since independence in 1956, Sudan had never witnessed the phenomenon of two parallel governments. And despite the sharp social and political contradictions of the pre-independence era, where elites were split between those calling for unity with Egypt and those demanding full independence, and between northerners and southerners who disagreed over the nature of the new state, those contradictions were ultimately resolved within a single political framework.

It’s true that the process unfolded through fledgling institutions and rival parties, but most still recognized the primacy of a single state, despite the presence of small pockets of separatist groups. This produced fragile political arrangements, but they preserved territorial unity, even if they failed to prevent subsequent coups and armed conflicts.

The current situation, marked by the establishment of a parallel government in Nyala opposing the de facto authority in Port Sudan, reflects Sudan’s entry into a new stage of institutional fragmentation, raising doubts about the future of the state as a unified entity.

This experience of territories governed independently from the central authority is not new to Sudan. The SPLM had previously ruled areas it called “liberated zones,” and similar models continued with SPLM-North and the Sudan Liberation Movement under Abdel Wahid al-Nur. Yet these experiments, however important, were confined to limited geographies and were more military in character than fully institutionalized systems of governance. Crucially, and worth noting here, they never explicitly presented themselves as parallel governments.

What is new in the Sudanese landscape, however, is the shift from “local self-rule at the margins” to the “declaration of a parallel government.” which marks a dangerous turn toward entrenched dual legitimacy and the erosion of the very idea of one state.

In this regard, the Battle of Khartoum in April 2025, ending with the complete withdrawal of RSF forces from the capital’s three cities, was the first major turning point. The army had thrown its full weight into the fight, regained control of central Sudan, and firmly secured the north and east. The RSF and its allies, meanwhile, entrenched themselves in Darfur, South Kordofan, and parts of western Sudan, effectively rendering the division of the country a fait accompli.

Subsequent developments solidified visible frontlines, meaning the war had transformed from a shifting military contest into a form of territorial and political partition.

Naturally, these changes will not unfold without profound consequences. They extend far beyond the redrawing of battlefield maps to penetrate deeply into politics and society. With Mohamed Hamdan Dagalo (Hemedti) assuming the presidency of the declared government’s Presidential Council, Abdelaziz al-Hilu as his deputy, and Mohamed Hassan al-Ta’ayshi beginning to form his cabinet as prime minister, Sudan’s historically centralized model of governance will start to unravel. Authority and influence will increasingly disperse among de facto powers grounded primarily in territorial control.

Even more significant is how this shift will reshape the political map. Political forces will be compelled to reposition themselves and reconfigure their alliances, given the impossibility of relying on a single decision-making center or a universally recognized authority. The very essence of the Sudanese state, as it had existed for decades, is set to erode.

Social consequences will be among the most perilous. Entrenched frontlines are likely to generate continuous waves of displacement, forcing millions to move between zones of control. This will intensify the humanitarian crisis and deepen societal divides. As population shifts multiply, long-standing intercommunal bonds risk fracturing, replaced by fragile networks shaped by war, regionalism, and ethnicity.

Local communities will be redefined under the weight of violence and displacement, becoming more insular around narrow identities rather than embracing a shared national project. This is reinforced by discourse around “social incubators,” which has further polarized communities by depicting them either as supporters of a particular faction or as potential enemies.

The project of the Sudanese nation-state had already been faltering due to structural and institutional weaknesses, with the identity question among the most enduring crises since independence. The SPLM-North, now allied with the RSF, frames this question question as central to Sudan’s crisis. With two governments espousing divergent institutional visions and perhaps even ideological orientations, existing emotional and cultural divisions may deepen, extending beyond geography and political legitimacy to fundamentally different notions of what the Sudanese state should mean.

Thus, national belonging could weaken further in favor of regional or ethnic identities, cementing psychological, political, and social fragmentation. Rebuilding a unified state would then become far more complex than mere physical reconstruction.

The immediate impact of this war on political discourse and modes of thinking has been the emergence of separatist tendencies that were once concealed behind ambiguous concepts and historical distortions. The current context, however, has allowed them to surface openly, now advancing their projects with greater boldness, drawing on the deep wounds and rifts — both psychological and emotional — left by the conflict.

This multiplicity in the center of governance, which brings together groups with similar outlooks and inclinations, will accelerate the project of fragmentation. This transforms the simmering tensions into an active political force, after they had long remained a marginal and veiled discourse. Thus, what was once expressed in a language marked by ambiguity and evasion has, under today’s parallel government, become part of an explicit rhetoric aimed at redefining Sudan as a collection of fragmented entities.

Regionally and internationally, this state of dispersed authority will narrow the margin of maneuver for external partners, since each side will seek recognition for itself and the withdrawal of recognition from the other. It will likely produce local authorities willing to make greater concessions in their external relations, given their incomplete sovereignty and lack of control over all territory.

Above all, the situation is breeding institutional fluidity, which may open the door to further ruptures in the political landscape, making Sudan’s crisis even more intricate both domestically and externally.

This dual legitimacy in Sudan is not simply a reflection of ongoing war, but the culmination of a long trajectory of institutional erosion and social-political fragmentation. Whereas earlier crises ended with coups or temporary settlements within the framework of one state, today’s reality threatens to redefine the very meaning of the state itself: Who holds its legitimacy? Who speaks in its name? Who represents it internationally? These are no longer theoretical questions but lived realities in Khartoum, Darfur, Port Sudan, and beyond.

While Sudan has historically experienced armed conflicts and sharp identity divides, it now faces, for the first time, the prospect of these divisions materializing as parallel institutions striving for internal and external legitimacy. This is the gravest danger: that dual authority becomes the rule rather than the exception, threatening the unity of the Sudanese entity and the survival of the state itself.

Ultimately, the present moment can only be understood as a historical turning point. Either it opens the way for innovative political solutions that restore trust among Sudan’s components and revive the project of an inclusive state, or it entrenches division and drives the country toward deeper fragmentation. Sudan today stands at the edge of reconfiguration; the question is no longer whether the state will survive in its old form, but what shape it will take tomorrow, and who will have the power to define its medium - and long-term future.