From Paralysis to Pluralism: Repoliticising Mediation in Sudan

Sudan’s ongoing war is not simply a humanitarian catastrophe or a mediation failure. It is a case study in the collapse of political imagination and a lack of innovative design in international peacemaking. While diplomats convene conferences and mediators shuttle between regional capitals, the fundamental problem remains: mediation has become a technocratic exercise detached from the raw political realities that drive conflict. If mediation is to move forward, it must re-engage with politics not through a grand design, but by developing and maintaining multiple spaces for a pluralist multimediation process.

The Failures of Mediation

The recent cancellation of a meeting of the so-called ‘Quad’ (consisting of the United States, Saudi Arabia, the United Arab Emirates, and Egypt) has just demonstrated the severe limits of track one formats in the current context. The announcement of a counter-government, the so-called ‘Tasis’ coalition, by the Rapid Support Forces and its allies, in turn, shows the persistent polarisation between the conflict parties.

In such a context, instead of pursuing a single, harmonised process, a multimediation approach needs to recognise the reality of fragmentation and support parallel, semi-autonomous initiatives that reflect Sudan’s diverse political and territorial landscape. The mediation arena is crowded but directionless: a mix of bilateral and multilateral efforts — from the African Union and IGAD to the Jeddah talks, high-level summit exercises in Paris and London, and Egyptian-sponsored dialogues — have failed to gain meaningful traction. The core problem is that these predominantly function as diplomatic manoeuvres driven by the competing interests of external powers, not by the political imperatives of Sudanese actors.

Saudi Arabia’s role in the Jeddah process and the recent Quad initiative, for instance, had little to do with Sudan and everything to do with its rivalry with the UAE and its efforts to curry favour in Washington. The UAE, meanwhile, as the UN Panel of Experts report confirms, is concretely supporting the RSF, while Egypt’s cautious involvement appears to reflect its interest in avoiding any democratic precedent near its borders. The African Union is nominally in the lead but, in reality, is hamstrung by fragmentation, regional mistrust, and its own limited leverage.

The traditional liberal peacebuilding paradigm relied on harmonisation and implementation: identify root causes, design a roadmap, and guide parties toward a negotiated transition. But such blueprints assume a shared political project. In Sudan, there is none. Each actor prefers tactical advantage over a collective settlement. Political negotiation is absent. What remains is a hollow choreography of process without politics.

The Inclusion Illusion

This absence of politics is most visible in the treatment of civil society. Inclusion has become a buzzword, invoked to legitimise processes that lack substantive political direction. In practice, civil society groups are invited to dialogues with no real influence, operating in a vacuum where political alignment matters far more than technical participation. Civil society, once a critical force in Sudan’s transitional politics, has been largely sidelined and suppressed in the current war: many former resistance committees are now aligned with one faction or another, while others have faded into political irrelevance. International donors continue to fund youth dialogues and women’s platforms in Kampala or Nairobi, but these forums are structurally detached from the dynamics shaping power on the ground. They substitute symbolism for strategy.

In fragmented environments, inclusion tends to become a procedural placeholder rather than a meaningful redistributive act. It reflects liberal peacebuilding’s residual faith in participation over power, a faith that rings hollow when war is being prosecuted with drones and regional proxy forces. Without political relevance, inclusion is just another empty ritual. Sudan’s warring parties – the Sudanese Armed Forces (SAF) and the Rapid Support Forces (RSF) – have little interest in mediation beyond what it can offer in terms of legitimacy. The RSF has mastered this game, projecting diplomatic normalcy through official visits to the IGAD region and the Gulf. The SAF has likewise shored up support from actors like Egypt or Turkey.

Mediation serves as a theatre for competing bids for recognition. These are not negotiations aimed at resolving political differences; they are efforts to gain international standing while waiting for the balance of power on the battlefield to shift. A short-term humanitarian arrangement, despite ill-fated attempts by the United Nations to reach one, might still be possible, but a negotiated settlement between SAF and RSF appears far beyond reach.

Bringing Politics Back In

This context demands a reorientation. Mediation should not chase process for its own sake. It should be re-politicised: grounded in a clear-eyed analysis of power, interests, and the real configuration of actors. There is a need for peace mediation to abandon the illusion that technocratic design can substitute for political will and to acknowledge what mediation cannot currently do. It cannot produce a harmonised, comprehensive agreement between SAF and RSF. Nor can it revive liberal peacebuilding models based on inclusive transitions and neatly sequenced roadmaps. These are no longer viable. Instead, the task is to rebuild a political arena – however fragmented – in which negotiation could again become meaningful.

This means investing in the slow work of enabling a third bloc: a political platform that combines non-aligned armed factions with democratic civilian actors and the existing political parties, capable of breaking the binary stalemate. For a moment, a coalition including non-aligned military actors such as the SLM Abdul Wahid and the SPLM-North al-Hilu seemed plausible. The latter’s recent alignment with the RSF-led Tasis alliance now has rendered this hard to achieve. Still, the project remains essential. Without such a third pillar, negotiations will remain a closed loop between two military actors with only very limited incentives to compromise. And without an alternative political vision, mediation will continue to serve only as a diplomatic smokescreen.

Sudan’s case demonstrates that peace cannot be engineered. It cannot be imposed through process, mapped through implementation plans, or forced through harmonisation. In fragmented settings, peace is political improvisation: emergent, contingent, and conflictual. Rather than aiming for final settlements, mediators should focus on preparing for critical junctures: moments when political alignments shift or military fatigue creates space for partial openings. Such moments cannot be scheduled, but they can be anticipated. This means mediation should move from implementation to facilitation: enabling political agency where it exists, providing open political platforms, and resisting the temptation to paper over fragmentation with hollow gestures of inclusivity.

Sudan’s war is likely not going to end with a grand bargain brokered by foreign envoys. It even may not end soon. But mediation need not be irrelevant. It can still matter, if it reclaims its political purpose. That means abandoning liberal peacebuilding’s obsession with process and returning to the harder task of confronting power, enabling alternatives, and shaping political trajectories. In Sudan, bringing politics back in means enabling fragmentation to be negotiated, not erased – and preparing for a peace that reflects the country’s plural political realities.

Jan Pospisil is Associate Professor (Research) at the Centre for Trust, Peace and Social Relations at Coventry University.

Explore all PeaceRep Sudan research.