The Opposition That Builds the State… and the Opposition That Destroys It

 

 

Muhannad Awad Mahmoud

One of the strangest afflictions of Sudanese politics is that some forces see themselves as having a place only in the seat of government or on the back of the state. When they enter government, its institutions become a national necessity; when they leave it, weakening those institutions becomes a political project. As though Sudan were a joint-stock company: if you have not secured a seat on its board, you are entitled to burn down the factory!

This reflects a crisis in our understanding of the state and in distinguishing between the right to compete for power and the duty to preserve the nation. Governments change, officials are dismissed and policies are reviewed, but the state is everyone’s home. Whoever destroys it in order to bring down an opponent may defeat that opponent, but will lose the country they sought to govern.

Serious opposition is essential, particularly in a country exhausted by wars and with weak mechanisms of oversight and accountability. We need people who question the use of public funds, expose corruption, scrutinise economic policies, and demand protection for civilians, rights and freedoms. We need people who can tell an official: You were wrong here; these are the facts; and this is the alternative.

But anyone seeking the public’s confidence must offer more than a list of accusations. They must explain how they would address the problems they criticise and what their alternative would cost. Anger alone cannot run an economy, slogans cannot rebuild a hospital, and political rivalry cannot serve as a governing programme.

In Britain, the opposition has an official status, and its leader heads a Shadow Cabinet that scrutinises the work of government departments and develops alternative policies. It prepares for government by showing it can understand and address the country’s problems, giving voters something to compare against the government’s performance.

The opposition is even entitled to disagree over military decisions. On 29 August 2013, the House of Commons rejected the government’s motion on Syria by 285 votes to 272, and Prime Minister David Cameron announced that, as a result, Britain would not participate in military action. A highly sensitive dispute was resolved within the institutions, and the government accepted the outcome.

In Germany, Parliament cannot remove the Chancellor simply by passing a vote of no confidence. Under Article 67 of the Basic Law, it must elect a successor at the same time. This mechanism brought Helmut Kohl to office after Helmut Schmidt in 1982. You may bring down a government, but you must provide an alternative; political success must not turn into a vacuum for which society pays the price.

These democracies are not free from opportunism or polarisation, but their mechanisms link competition for government with responsibility for maintaining institutions. The law remains above everyone: government, opposition and institutions alike. Preserving the state does not grant an official immunity from accountability, just as the right to oppose does not exempt the opposition from responsibility for its methods and demands.

In Sudan, when proposals are made for an arms embargo on both the army and militias, or for restrictions on aviation, we should ask what the consequences would be: Would such measures prevent supplies from reaching the militia? Who would protect cities and civilians? And what arrangements would preserve the state’s ability to defend its territory?

It is as though, if a neighbourhood came under armed attack, the height of neutrality would be to prevent both the police and the attackers from carrying weapons, and then wish the residents a pleasant night!

The Armed Forces are a national institution subject to the law and accountability. Their professionalism and discipline should be strengthened, and anyone proven responsible for violations should be held accountable. But holding the Armed Forces to account does not require erasing the distinction between them and a rebel militia challenging the state’s authority. What is required is a unified, professional national army that protects the people. That cannot be achieved by weakening the defence institution while leaving the sources of threats to civilians intact.

The same problem appears in discussions of ceasefires, when people celebrate the word before examining its conditions. Who will monitor compliance? How will humanitarian aid reach those who need it? Will mobilisation and rearmament be prevented? How will cities and civilian objects be protected? And what will the consequences be for violations?

Anyone who supports a ceasefire should explain its guarantees; anyone who rejects it should provide their reasons and propose an alternative that would alleviate people’s suffering. But treating acceptance of any proposal as a moral certificate, while portraying every question about its risks as evidence of a desire for war, is coercion that shuts down debate.

The possibility that a militia could use a ceasefire to reposition itself requires verifiable guarantees. A ceasefire is not a poem whose beauty we judge by its wording; it is a security arrangement whose value is measured by the lives it protects and the attacks it prevents. Citizens need safeguards against tomorrow’s attacks more than they need a statement congratulating them on today’s temporary relief.

In the economy, the same distortion appears when debate over an official’s remuneration overwhelms assessment of the institution’s performance. We have seen media coverage of the salary of the Governor of the Central Bank of Sudan and the rent on the house allocated to her, while monetary policy and its impact on production, prices and trade financing deserve deeper and more sustained discussion.

Holding an official to account over their salary, benefits and housing costs is a legitimate right. But reducing the assessment of a central bank to these items turns a major economic issue into a payslip and a rent bill—as though cutting the rent would somehow restore the Sudanese pound to its former health!

Accountability includes examining how public money is spent and how monetary policy is managed. Anyone who objects to the Governor’s performance should explain where her decisions have failed, how they have affected inflation, the exchange rate and production financing, and what the alternative would be. A salary does not provide immunity from criticism, nor does controversy over it substitute for an assessment of results.

Amid all this noise, one initiative caught my attention: the National Forces Coordination’s initiative and the visit by its delegation, headed by Mohamed Sid Ahmed Al-Jakoumi, to Bujumbura, where the delegation met Burundi’s President and the current Chairperson of the African Union, Évariste Ndayishimiye, according to published reports.

I read the Coordination’s memorandum dated 25 September 2026, which calls for support for lifting the suspension of Sudan’s participation in African Union activities. This initiative pursued a specific demand, mobilising support for it and presenting its case to an influential figure in continental decision-making.

The memorandum recalls that Sudan is a founding member of the Organisation of African Unity and that the suspension of its participation does not mean that it has ceased to be a member. It sets out the Coordination’s assessment of developments since the suspension decision: the consequences of the war, the formation of a civilian-led government, the restoration of institutional activity from Khartoum, the resumption of UN activity, political consultations and efforts to facilitate participation in dialogue.

The memorandum draws on these developments to call for a review of the suspension and discusses the cost of continued isolation in terms of communication, recovery and civilian protection. It also acknowledges that challenges remain and that the requirements for a political transition and peace have not yet been fully met.

Defending Sudan requires this degree of candour: setting out what has been achieved, identifying what remains to be done, and explaining how greater African engagement can help overcome the crisis.

The Coordination’s initiative deserves recognition for the service it provides to a national cause that goes beyond calculations of political power. Sudan’s seat in the African Union belongs to an entire people, and restoring its presence benefits the country, not a party or an official.

This is what we want from political forces: to mobilise support for national causes and defend the country’s institutions while retaining their right to criticise and hold the government to account. They can disagree with a minister while helping to advance a national cause for which that minister is responsible. They can compete with the government without wishing the country to fail.

Defending the legitimacy of institutions entails a responsibility to reform them and broaden participation in them; it does not postpone Sudanese citizens’ rights to civilian government and political representation. A strong state is built through capable, accountable institutions and citizens who can hold those institutions to account without fear.

The predicament of politics begins when its vocabulary is reduced to two things: ministerial office and the gun—either a share of power or a means of forcing others to grant you one. Caught between the two, the space for serious civic work disappears: organising society, developing programmes, monitoring performance and serving people.

Sudan needs an opposition that fears for the citizen more than it hates its opponent; one that welcomes any success that serves the people, even if it is achieved by a government with which it disagrees, and exposes wrongdoing even when committed by an ally. An opposition that understands that losing a position of power does not justify losing the country.

Oppose the government with every argument at your disposal. Demand its replacement when it fails, and hold officials to account when they make mistakes. But leave Sudan as a state; the power you seek is meaningless if no country remains for you to govern.

Shortlink: https://sudanhorizon.com/?p=18590