Osman Fadlalla – the author of this article - is a veteran Sudanese journalist renowned for his credible reporting, neutrality, and in-depth analysis of Sudanese affairs for nearly three decades. He served as the editor-in-chief of one of Khartoum’s most widely read daily newspapers until the eve of the current war. Today, he leads Al-Ofoq Al-Jaded ("The New Horizon"), a respected online daily publication known for its insightful coverage of Sudan’s unfolding political landscape.
05- July – 2025
The appointment of Dr. Kamal Idris as Prime Minister, along with three other ministers, plus the Ministers of Interior and Defense, may have seemed to some as a sign of openness or the beginning of a reordering of Sudan's collapsed internal affairs. However, this appointment, in its essence, timing, and composition, along with the statement made by Dr. Amin Hassan Omar – a prominent leader in the NCP, ex-minister, also occupied several high profile positions under al- Bashier rule, to Al Jazeera Mubasher on June 30th about the "King-maker" (video attached), reveals an attempt to reproduce one of the oldest political distraction scenarios in Sudan’s modern history: the “You go to the palace as President, and I’ll go to prison as a detainee” scenario.
This is a new attempt to replicate what happened in 1989, when Omar al-Bashir appeared to be the head of the regime, while Hassan al-Turabi ruled from the shadows. Today, with Kamil Idris as the civilian face, and with no serious proposal to address the tragedy of war or meet the people's aspirations, the deception is unfolding once again.
There is nothing objectionable in Dr. Kamil Idris’s biography. He is a seasoned diplomat with a prestigious legal background. But the question is not about him as a person; it is about the context of his appointment and the motives of those who chose him. Was his selection in response to the aspirations of the Sudanese people, or was it part of a regional and international deal aiming to polish the image of a military-Islamist alliance seeking to convince the world that “the Islamists are not here”?
This government was not built on a program to rebuild what the war destroyed or to secure the basic needs of the Sudanese people. Instead, it was built on cold diplomatic calculations: regaining Sudan’s seat in the African Union, opening negotiation channels with the international community, and meeting the conditions required to receive support from some regional powers.
What is striking in the appointment speech and the surrounding media coverage is the absence of any clear commitment to key issues such as ending the war, addressing the humanitarian crisis, initiating a transitional justice process, or even restoring collapsed services.
At its core, what happened is the formation of a government whose job is media projection, not internal reconstruction.
A government born to sit in Sudan’s seat at the African Union, not to sit on the ground with the displaced of Khartoum, El Fasher, and Kadugli.
Therefore, all talk about the competence or incompetence of the appointed ministers is just “empty sophistry,” because the issue is not about individual competence, but about the total absence of a national project.
Since his departure from the army headquarters, General al-Burhan has repeatedly said his famous line:
“They say we’re Islamists… Show me the Islamists.”
That statement is not as innocent as it may seem. It is the cornerstone of the denial strategy adopted by both Islamists and the military since the war began.
Denying the presence of Islamists within the Port-Sudan alliance and presenting a civilian government on paper is the same method used by Turabi when he "disappeared" from the first government of the 1989 coup, leaving al-Bashir to deceive both domestic and international audiences.
And now they’re repeating the scenario: a civilian on the frontstage, Islamists in backrooms, war on the ground, and a government on paper.
The real crisis with this government is not in its names, but in its utter disconnect from the concerns of the people. There is no relief program, no vision for reconstruction, no viable political roadmap.
The Sudanese people, whose cities were destroyed, whose sons were killed, and whose livelihoods have collapsed, are not part of this government’s calculations.
This is a government formed to meet the needs of donors, not to build a nation.
A government meant to convince foreign capitals, not to earn the trust of Sudan’s streets.
A government that wants to tell the world: “We’re not Islamists” but tells the people absolutely nothing.
We’ve witnessed this scenario before. In 1989, a government was presented that appeared civilian in form, Islamist in content, and controlled by a security leadership from behind the curtain.
National figures were crushed, the state was used as a tool for ideological recruitment, and Sudan became a playground for extremist adventures.
Today, nothing stands in the way of repeating that disaster except the awareness of the Sudanese people, and their deep understanding that the battle is not with individuals, but with a system that keeps reproducing itself in a new disguise each time.
Between the palace and the prison, Sudan is being lost once again.
If the old game was based on distributing roles between a "military president of the people" and a "detained sheikh – al- Turabi -," the new game is based on distributing illusions: a technocrat as the face, Islamists in the shadows, and no one on the real battlefield, where people are dying, and the state is collapsing.
A government like this cannot save Sudan, because it was simply not made for Sudan.
It was created for what can be said in the name of Sudan at international forums.
And when a government is subject to the conditions of outsiders and blind to the suffering of its own people, the real question is not: Who is the Prime Minister?
But rather:
Who holds the power? And who wrote the script and directed this scene?
The answer is in the Amin Hassan Omar video below, "The Kingmaker."
