Looting, roadblocks: paramilitaries are a scary neighbor in Sudan’s capital
In the 12 days since the outbreak of war in Sudan, residents of Khartoum’s capital have learned to survive by living side by side with armed fighters.
Civilians negotiate with a feared paramilitary faction at roadblocks for safe passage, reluctantly share food and water with them, and sometimes receive warnings of impending battle – giving residents time to flee or run back inside and open their doors. lock to do.
The fighters have moved into homes and taken over stores and hospitals, terrifying and courting civilians. In one neighborhood, a resident said, they handed out milk. In another, they invited community members to share in the spoils of their looting. In another, they became vigilantes and punished petty criminals.
Many residents try to avoid the faction as much as possible.
“Apparently they don’t have anyone to give them orders, so they just do their thing,” says Dania Atabani, who lives in Khartoum. “Very dangerous and chaotic.”
The paramilitary group, the Rapid Support Forces, was part of a military-led government as recently as this month but is now battling the regular army for power in Sudan, a northeastern African country of 45 million people surrounded by seven countries.
a a weak three-day ceasefire which has partly slowed down fighting in parts of Khartoum was extended for another 72 hours by both sides on Thursday evening, after heavy pressure from neighboring countries, the United States, the UK and the United Nations.
On Thursday afternoon, White House Press Secretary Karine Jean-Pierre had urged American citizens to leave within the next 48 hours “because the situation could worsen at any moment.” It is believed that there are about 16,000 Americans in Sudan, many of whom hold dual citizenship.
Residents across the capital said by phone and text message that RSF forces appeared to control much of the city center and surrounding districts, along with parts of Khartoum’s sister city, Omdurman, penetrating deep into residential areas. The regular army is positioned further away, where it controls entry and exit, and can still use its fighters to launch attacks against RSF targets.
“The RSF remains hyper-focused on winning Khartoum,” said Alan Boswell, Horn of Africa project director at the International Crisis Group. “This is the ultimate confrontation.”
In the first few days of the conflict, the RSF engaged in heavy fighting in Khartoum neighborhoods such as Al Amarat and Khartoum 2, close to the city’s international airport, and occupied streets where there are many embassies and wealthy residents. They also set up checkpoints in posh neighborhoods like al-Riyadh, placing anti-aircraft guns in front of houses to attack the circling army jets.
The RSF fighters are usually in groups of five to 20 at checkpoints, residents said, though more than 50 gathered at one point in the Kafouri district north of the capital. They usually carry bazookas, Kalashnikov rifles and machine guns and arrive in Toyota pickups. Some residents said they even had anti-aircraft guns at times.
“Since day one, they have been spreading through the neighborhoods, taking the people as shields,” said Gasim Amin Oshi, an engineer turned activist and community organizer.
The RSF quickly moved into the Baitalmaal neighborhood of Mr. Oshi in Omdurman, set up checkpoints on the bridge and headed for police headquarters, where it was captured after a brief firefight. Then they went for the national radio and television station, then the hospital, a technical school and several buildings. They ransacked the supermarket and ransacked bakeries. As people were evacuated, the fighters began occupying nearby houses.
“I can’t move freely, I can’t get my stuff free. We have a small window to move around in,” Mr. Oshi said. In the afternoon, when the fighting slows down, he risks going out in search of food and medical supplies, but tries not to attract attention because community members said they were robbed by some fighters.
Mr. Oshi belongs to one of the “resistance committees” that form a grassroots movement, pro-democracy who protested against military rule before the current fighting. They have become a lifeline for some Khartoum residents, distributing food, medicine and phone credit. To do this, they had to learn to play both sides, especially the RSF
When a source within the RSF warns of an impending attack, or warns someone within the military or secret service that escalating fighting can be expected, the commission issues a warning on social media, Mr Oshi said.
In a largely residential area of Khartoum, RSF fighters moved into four apartment buildings in one area, turning the streets into a war zone, said a member of the area’s resistance committee, who declined to be named out of concerns for her safety.
She said the committee had to negotiate with RSF fighters to allow some families to leave, begging their way through checkpoints, where fighters have asked not for money, but for water or food. Most residents oblige and try to survive, the member said.
Others simply hide, living in fear of a force with a terrifying past.
The RSF grew out of the infamous Janjaweed militia, which helped former dictator Omar Hassan al-Bashir brutally put down an insurgency in the western region of Darfur in the early 2000s. Analysts and Western officials estimate that the unit numbers 70,000 to 100,000 fighters and that they are better trained and equipped than the military.
The leader of the RSF, Lieutenant General Mohamed Hamdan, was a commander in the Janjaweed who rose through the ranks to become one of Mr. to become al-Bashir before turning against him. After Mr. al-Bashir was deposed in 2019, General Hamdan grew in power and status, becoming second rank behind the army commander, General Abdel Fattah al-Burhan, now his enemy.
Jihad Mashamoun, a Sudanese researcher and political analyst, said the RSF had used “hit-and-run tactics” in the capital to attack and seize Sudanese forces’ positions.
The military, he said, has responded by using its key assets, including helicopters, tanks and heavy machinery, to recapture some of those positions.
In some areas south of Khartoum, the army has the upper hand. The suburb of Abu Adam is close to a military base. Musab Abdullah, 24, a resident there, said he usually saw soldiers in uniform or in armored vehicles. However, when he ventures outside his vicinity, RSF checkpoints await.
They are usually looking for weapons or interrogating people to find out if they have ties to the military, Mr Abdullah said. Despite the relative safety of living near a barracks, the paramilitary’s reputation terrifies him.
“They can break into my house at any time, kill me or use me as a human shield for them,” he said via text message.
Members of the medical community in Khartoum felt particularly vulnerable. It is rumored that the RSF is kidnapping doctors and nurses and forcing them at gunpoint to treat their wounded combatants. So some doctors have been treating people at home, but the fear of the RSF has driven many of them out of Khartoum.
“As a doctor, it’s heartbreaking to feel useless,” says Walaa Mirghani F. Almoula, a doctor who lives in central Khartoum. “We can’t help people.”
After hiding in her house for a week, Dr Almoula said, she fled with her brother, who is also a doctor. They hid their professional identities through each of the four nerve-racking RSF checkpoints they passed through on their journey to Wad Madani, a refuge southeast of Khartoum.
Even as the fighters attack the army in the capital, the paramilitary unit has become synonymous with one activity: looting. In interviews, residents of the capital said they saw RSF soldiers breaking into markets, hospitals, college campuses, electronics stores, and in one case even inviting members of the neighborhood to help themselves at a grocery store. The few bystanders refused to follow them to the store, one resident said.
The Sudan Animal Rescue, a non-profit organization that provides sanctuary to dozens of animals, including lions, said last week that a member of the paramilitary force had stolen one of his vehicles.
“It was shocking,” said Mutaz Kamal, a volunteer at the center who said he viewed footage of the attack. “He broke the windows and just drove off. Just like that.”
Declan Walsh contributed reporting from Nairobi, Kenya, and Chris Cameron from Washington.