There is no disagreement over the country’s need for a dialogue that lays the foundation for a new phase, addresses imbalances, and rebuilds institutions. But dialogue does not become national merely by calling it “Sudanese–Sudanese,” nor does it lose its importance or legitimacy because one party rejects it. Rather, it is measured by the integrity of its mechanisms, the independence of its decision-making, the breadth of its representation, the clarity of its objectives, and its ability to produce solutions that open the way to stability and state-building.
This is where SumoD’s dilemma begins. Its rejection of the current format of the dialogue can be understood as a legitimate concern that dialogue inside the country could be turned into a tool for reproducing the legitimacy of the military, a position that deserves discussion. But the dilemma begins when objection to the conditions of dialogue turns into determining who has the right to participate, or when acceptance of it becomes conditional on reshaping it according to the vision of one party.
If the dialogue is Sudanese, its ownership cannot be monopolized by SumoD, the authorities, or any other political bloc. Sudan is larger than a political alliance and broader than the forces opposing the army, just as it does not belong to the forces that supported it. There are parties and forces with historical and social weight that chose to stand alongside the state and the army during the war, and today they support dialogue inside the country and believe that addressing the crisis should be based on Sudanese will, away from regional and international agendas and pressures. The existence of these forces cannot be bypassed, just as the existence of other opposition forces cannot be erased.
This is an important distinction: inclusiveness in dialogue does not mean equating the political party with the gun, nor granting political legitimacy to weapons. The principle must apply to everyone: the National Congress Party, the Islamic Movement, the Communist Party, and other forces are components of the country’s political history, and excluding them does not create democracy. The criterion is legal responsibility, not political affiliation. Whoever is proven guilty must be held accountable, and whoever is not proven to have committed a crime must not be punished because of their affiliation. Here, transitional justice becomes a national necessity: accountability without vengeance, documentation without selectivity, and restoration of rights without settling political scores.
Notably, SumoD itself faces a dilemma that cannot be ignored. Some of its leaders have been subjected to political and criminal accusations of cooperating with the Rapid Support Forces or supporting the April 15 coup that led to the war. These are allegations denied by the parties concerned, and they cannot be turned into convictions before investigations and judicial proceedings are completed. Yet their mere existence places SumoD before the same question it raises regarding justice and accountability: if dialogue is the gateway to establishing the state after the war, it is not consistent to demand accountability for opponents while insisting on political immunity for itself.
Here, the paradox related to the outside emerges. SumoD speaks of Sudanese ownership of the decision, while at the same time adhering to the Quartet roadmap as a framework for the political process. This alone is not sufficient to say that it represents the project of a particular state, nor is it appropriate to turn it into a conclusive judgment about its intentions. But it places it before a political question that should not be ignored: if the decision is purely Sudanese, what are the limits of external reference? And where does international support end and Sudanese decision-making begin?
The question becomes more sensitive because the UAE is one of the Quartet countries, amid Sudanese accusations that it supports the Rapid Support Forces, accusations that Abu Dhabi denies and which are supported by regional and international organizations. Therefore, any Sudanese force adopting an external reference must do so transparently and in a manner understandable to the people. States can help facilitate dialogue, but they should not choose Sudan’s future for Sudanese people.
From here, the expected possibilities can be understood. First, the dialogue may proceed with those who attend, and its outcomes may then become the basis for arrangements for the next phase, relying on political forces with historical and social weight that supported the state and the army during the war. At that point, SumoD may find itself outside a political process taking shape inside the country, transforming from a potential partner into an opposition abroad.
Second, the dialogue may begin with those who attend while keeping the door open to others. This is the most rational possibility. If the first phase demonstrates the independence of the mechanism, the integrity of procedures, equal participation, and guarantees, and if the objective is to rebuild the state rather than reproduce a new authority, the justifications for boycotting the dialogue will recede, making participation less costly than remaining outside it.
Third, and most dangerously, SumoD may move from rejecting the dialogue to attempting to undermine it through regional or international forces. At that point, the dispute would move beyond the conditions of dialogue to the question of national independence, particularly amid discussion of the Emirati role. Here, it would face a genuine test: proving the independence of its decision, or confronting a public mood that rejects any solution imposed from abroad, potentially returning Sudan to the logic of zero-sum conflict that paved the way for the war, where no party prevails except by excluding the other.
Fourth, this relates to the development of the dialogue and the internal reviews it may impose within SumoD itself. As participation expands and serious guarantees emerge, some of its components may respond to the dialogue, since continuing the boycott means relinquishing influence over the political process, particularly if the dialogue proves capable of producing practical understandings. At that point, the boycott may shift from a unified position to a situational response, and maintaining a cohesive stance may become more difficult as the dialogue takes deeper root.
According to #TheFaceOfTruth, SumoD’s dilemma is not in rejecting dialogue, as that is a political right, but in proving that its rejection is of its conditions, not of the principle of dialogue itself. At the same time, the authorities must not turn dialogue into a platform for exclusion. Sudan needs a dialogue that neither equates the state with rebellion nor excludes those who differ, but rather establishes a process in which politics is decided through elections, crimes through justice, and decisions through the will of the Sudanese people.
Dialogue does not need consensus to begin, but it needs national will to continue. Those who reject dialogue inside Sudan will see the country move forward without them, while those who enter it responsibly will be partners in the solution. And the golden rule is: “Weapons belong to the state, politics belongs to elections, and the decision belongs to the people.”
Wishing you continued health and well-being.
Tuesday, August 25, 2026
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