For GIRIFNA's opinion blog: garfaneen
Following the sad events of March 11, at the University of Khartoum, GIRIFNA did what it usually does. It issued a brief statement based on eyewitness accounts of its members about the death of student Ali Abbaker Musa. And the violent treatment and arrest of the Darfuri students who organized and attended a political debate and a peaceful march inside the campus, in order to highlight the latest deterioration of the humanitarian and security situation in Darfur.
What followed was a vibrant debate resulting from messages of concern that poured in from within the movement questioning why the title of the press statement was, “Darfuri Student Killed at University of Khartoum” and not simply, “Student Killed at University of Khartoum”.
Many felt strongly that singling out the ethnicity of the killed student served the regime’s tactics of dividing us as “Sudanese” into ethnicities rather than what many of us dream of being–Sudanese citizens of one nation before and on top of our ethnic and/or tribal affiliations. Others insisted that the suffering is generalized and we should focus on issues and not tribes/regions. It is important to note that the Darfurians and members from the East within the movement had an opposing opinion, and argued for the importance of pointing out Musa’s geographic origin.
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| Darfuri student Ali Abbaker Musa who was murdered by Sudanese riot police on the campus of the University of Khartoum on March 11, 2014 |
I would like to argue that in this particular context it is important to stress that a Darfuri student was murdered by the regime. The event inside the campus was organized by the Darfur Student Union who wanted to raise the awareness of the rest of the student body about the worsening humanitarian crisis and ongoing conflict in their region. A conflict that gets little attention in the Center of Sudan (outside the activist and intellectual circles), where all access to information is controlled by the regime and the majority of the citizens are disconnected from the marginalized peripheries. A conflict that has entered its first decade and has evolved to the point of no return, to the extent that the regime itself has lost control of the situation. A conflict that has seen very limited sustained solidarity from normal/apolitical citizens of the Center, who are relatively living in safer and more privileged conditions.
What the Darfurian Student Union was trying to do on March 11, was to share their narrative that is often submerged. And they did it peacefully and through a well established university culture of “arkan” or political debates. And the response they got was the usual treatment of unjustified use of force that has become a pattern.
Darfurian students in particular have paid a high penalty every time they stood for their rights. When they asked for the right to free university education they were slaughtered and thrown in ditches at Gezira University–at the end of 2012. In the last couple of years, they have also suffered targeted assassinations, rape and harassment in campuses around Sudan. Testimonials by released student detainees collected by GIRIFNA in the last two years show that Darfuri students once detained are treated very differently from their counterparts.
In late 2011, when the student movement around Sudan coalesced in solidarity with the then ongoing Manaseer protest that demanded compensation linked to the construction of the Merowe dam; Mohamed Idris Mohamed Jiddo, who was heading the Darfur Student Union at Khartoum University was also a member of the pro-Manaseer, Students’ Protest Committee. He was arrested and detained for 67 days without charges, because of his solidarity and speeches in support of the Manaseer’s demands. He was detained while taking public transportation by 11 men, one of them carrying a Kalashnikov. Once in Kobar prison he was the only prisoner and student put in shackles. He told GIRIFNA:
What struck me was that my feet were chained with shackles. I asked them, “Why am I being chained? What I know is criminal offenders are the ones who get shackled… so why me? All my other colleagues are not shackled… is it because I am from Darfur?” They replied saying: “A high-ranking official requested it.” I was nicknamed “Shackles” by the prison guards. I was the only one in Kober prison who was chained with shackles.
The real triumph of Sudan’s regime, the National Congress Party (and the tragedy of Sudan) has been that it has disconnected citizens by making their stories invisible to each other, and hence their suffering is also diminished; and with that our collective humanity. We therefore need a national exercise in regaining our humanity and recognizing the other. And this cannot be done without giving marginalized groups, and especially those enduring state-sponsored wars, the space to tell their narratives in the way they choose to.
This aspect of the Sudanese people’s struggle for freedom and democracy is where we part ways with the recent revolutions in the Arab region. Although there are similarities, such as authoritarianism and corruption; chronic and large-scale warfare characterized by an ethnic/racial divide is unique to Sudan. This is significant to the context of this debate, because of Northern Sudan’s cultural dependency on the Arab rhetoric of revolution, with Egypt being the main influencer. Although Sudan has been through a steady stream of resistance and opposition, the Arab Spring was the catalyst that sparked the chain reaction of mass citizen mobilization in the Northern urban centers. The slogans, digital activism techniques, mobilization tactics, and many other aspects of Sudan’s non-violent struggle within the past couple of years have been heavily influenced by Egypt and the Arab Spring. Even though this influence helped the movement in Sudan, it also limited it, because so far the pro-democracy movement(s) failed to address racism and/or the suppression of diverse cultural identities.
Sudan has a rich history of resistance that succeeded at toppling authoritarian regimes in the past. That spirit of resistance has been handed down to a generation of youth who are facing a much more complex reality. For the traditional political parties of the Center, issues of cultural and racial suppression are seen as byproducts, and have always taken a back seat to the politics of personality, economic reform and the rule of law. Perhaps this has created fertile ground for continuing to bypass these issues. Hence, the biggest challenge facing today’s generation of changemakers is how to create an inclusive pro-democracy movement that addresses the grievances of all Sudanese rather than falling hostage to rigid ideological and sometimes utopian thinking.
In abstract terms we are often told by academics, politicians, the civil society and the international community that our only hope, as a nation, is a sustainable and inclusive “national dialogue”. In more practical layman language, a “national dialogue” is nothing but breaking the walls between us–normal citizens–through sharing our stories. Creating human bonds and based on finding solutions that are ours, and not imposed by foreigners via bilateral negotiations and agreements (with those who hold the guns) that have constantly failed.
As George Orwell would have said: today we are not all Sudanese, because some Sudanese are more equal than others. National reconciliation in Sudan means that before we reach the utopia that “we are all Sudanese”, we will have to heal from massive trauma; know and relate to each other, and above all trust each other in order to finally realize that our destiny is one.
This cannot be done by diluting each others narratives to quickly reach a collective national identity. There are no short cuts here. We have to acknowledge all violations, and hear all grievances. And this means that right now we need to fight for fundamental freedoms that would enable us to do that; all of which have disappeared under the NCP. Without being able to speak, assemble and organize freely in our universities, public squares and the courtyards of our homes; there is no way toward a national dialogue that is created and led by the people–a grassroots and indigenous national dialogue.
