From the Platform Yasser Al-Fadni He Who Arms the Beast Has No Right to Weep for Its Prey

Every time the suffering of the Sudanese people intensifies, certain Western voices emerge with statements of concern, warnings, and hollow promises, as though they have only just discovered the magnitude of the tragedy unfolding in Sudan. Yet the truth, now evident to all, is that many of these positions amount to little more than political hypocrisy—saying one thing publicly while practicing the exact opposite behind closed doors.
The recent remarks made by American expert Michelle Gavin regarding the city of El Obeid cannot be viewed in isolation from the broader context of the American position on the war in Sudan. The U.S. administration and its affiliated centers of influence know very well who is killing Sudanese civilians in cold blood. They know who is supplying the machinery of war with money, weapons, political cover, and media support. Yet they continue to avoid calling things by their proper names, preferring instead a gray diplomatic language that stops no bullet, saves no child, and prevents no massacre.
Warnings about a repeat of the El Fasher tragedy in El Obeid may appear humanitarian on the surface, but at their core they raise a legitimate question: Where were these voices when Sudanese cities were being destroyed, villages burned, and innocent people killed and displaced? Why does the discussion always focus on the catastrophic consequences while avoiding a firm stance against those who create and sustain these disasters?
What is even more astonishing is that the United States possesses political and economic tools powerful enough to halt many of the support networks that sustain the militia. Yet it chooses to settle for expressions of concern and diplomatic discomfort, as though Sudanese people are expected to believe that the world’s most powerful nation is incapable of exerting influence. The reality is that the problem is not a lack of capacity—it is a lack of political will.
It has become increasingly clear that some international powers view Sudan through the lens of interests rather than principles, and through geopolitical calculations rather than humanitarian values. Consequently, the repeated rhetoric about human rights and civilian protection loses all meaning when confronted with the realities on the ground, where the war continues, support for the militia persists, and the international community turns its back on the suffering of millions.
The Sudanese people no longer need statements of condemnation and concern; they need genuine actions capable of stopping the bloodshed. Those who raise the banner of humanity during the day while ignoring the sponsors of violence at night are not acting as impartial mediators. In one way or another, they are contributing to the continuation and perpetuation of the tragedy.
Experience has shown that American policy toward Sudan often speaks one language and acts in another. It is therefore unsurprising that trust in such statements has steadily eroded, especially when they arrive only after blood has been spilled, homes destroyed, and dreams reduced to ashes.
From my platform, I say this:
The lesson Sudanese people have learned over decades is that nations are not protected by statements issued from abroad. Whoever places their hopes solely in the conscience of major powers is chasing a mirage. History teaches us that interests govern international politics, while lofty slogans often serve merely as a curtain concealing other calculations.
Those who believe that American foreign policy is driven by kindness or compassion are mistaken. It moves where interests exist and stops where those interests collide with the principles proclaimed in official speeches. Amid all this, Sudan must continue to rely on the will of its people and their unity in confronting the schemes and challenges that threaten the nation’s security, stability, and future.








