A War Fueled by Hate Speech: Sudan’s Fall into Fragmentation

Since April 15, 2023, Sudan has been plunged into a devastating conflict that has claimed dozens of lives on an almost daily basis. What began as a power struggle between the Sudanese Armed Forces (SAF) and the Rapid Support Forces (RSF) has evolved into a humanitarian catastrophe, displacing millions within Sudan and across its borders and subjecting civilians to grave abuses—including acts that may constitute war crimes, genocide, and crimes against humanity.

Over the past thirty months, local, regional, and international efforts to halt the conflict—which has spread to more than thirteen of Sudan’s eighteen states—have failed. Although the causes of this failure are complex—rooted in entrenched positions on both sides and exacerbated by competing regional and international interventions—the proliferation of hate speech has been an even more insidious catalyst, fueling hostility and perpetuating atrocities against large segments of the Sudanese population.

Hate speech in Sudan has not merely reflected the violence unleashed by the war but has served as an active instrument in fueling and expanding it. Over time, it transformed what began as a political and military rivalry into an existential struggle between identity groups, eroding any prospects for reconciliation or a negotiated settlement. Furthermore, it produced a dangerous moral inversion, in which acts of killing and assault were reframed as defenses of “identity” or “collective dignity.” In doing so, it legitimized brutality and drove the level of violence to unprecedented extremes.

This article examines the phenomenon of hate speech in Sudan—its definition, historical roots, and the mechanisms developed to confront it. It explores the impact this rhetoric has—both directly and indirectly—on Sudan’s protracted war, as well as the potential catastrophic consequences it may pose for the country’s future unity. The paper also outlines strategies to combat and contain hate speech and proposes a comprehensive framework to guide future mitigation efforts.

Since gaining independence in 1956—after nearly six decades of British Egyptian rule—Sudan has endured a succession of devastating wars in its southern, western, and eastern regions. According to United Nations estimates, the civil war in South Sudan claimed around two million lives before the region’s secession in 2011. In western Sudan, the Darfur conflict left more than 300,000 people dead between 2003 and 2019. Even before the current war, recurring tribal and regional clashes had already exacted a heavy toll, killing over 250,000 people. Today’s conflict has only deepened this national tragedy. More than 150,000 people have been killed, 15 million displaced, and countless civilians subjected to grave abuses—including extrajudicial killings, arbitrary detentions, sexual violence, and widespread looting.

The war has also brought agricultural and industrial activity to a standstill, driven nearly 19 million children out of school, destroyed critical infrastructure, and caused the Sudanese currency to collapse to unprecedented levels.

This long and bloody history of self-destruction in Sudan stems from a complex set of interrelated causes: chronic political instability, the multiplicity of armed groups, recurrent military rule, and a fragile economy weakened not by a lack of resources, but by decades of mismanagement and systemic corruption. Yet perhaps the most decisive factor lies in the state’s persistent failure to govern its political, social, and religious diversity—an inability that has deeply fractured the country’s social fabric and undermined national cohesion. These structural weaknesses have further intensified the spread of hate speech in recent years, particularly since the outbreak of the current war between the Sudanese Armed Forces and the Rapid Support Forces.

It is crucial at this point to distinguish between hate speech as a tool of psychological and social incitement and polarization, and the hate crimes committed during wartime—such as killing, rape, and looting. Although hate speech may create the mental environment that justifies and paves the way for such crimes, it is not a material offense unless it explicitly calls for or directly justifies violence. This distinction is essential for understanding any framework of justice and accountability, as it clearly separates those who incite violence through rhetoric—who can be prosecuted under laws addressing hate speech and incitement—from those who commit acts of violence on the ground and therefore fall under the jurisdiction of international criminal law.

The United Nations defines hate speech as “any kind of communication in speech, writing, or behavior that attacks or uses pejorative or discriminatory language with reference to a person or group based on who they are—in other words, based on their religion, ethnicity, nationality, race, color, descent, gender, or other identity factors.” According to the UN, hate speech can take many forms, from words and images to gestures, symbols, cartoons, or online content such as memes and videos, and may be disseminated offline and online.

In the Sudanese context, this definition finds tangible expression in the country’s political and social discourse, where hate speech has long remained a powerful and pervasive force. It manifests daily in public rhetoric and everyday language, reinforcing perceptions of other groups as outsiders and promoting claims of ethnic purity, religious superiority, and cultural authenticity. Over time, this rhetoric - echoed by political leaders- has embedded prejudice within state and societal norms, leading to devastating tribal conflicts, most recently in the Blue Nile region in southeastern Sudan, where violent clashes between the Al-Anj and Hausa communities claimed thousands of lives.

During the current conflict, hate speech has become increasingly dominant, reflected in the exchange of accusations and threats between rival tribes, communities, and even states. Deeply contemptuous expressions such as “Awlad al-Dhuyouf,” “Falanqiyat,” “Um Ka‘uk,” and “Awlad al-Fidadiya”¹ have become widespread—all highly localized terms used to belittle tribal, ethnic, and even regional groups.

In an interview with Sudanese journalist Maher Abu al-Joukh,² he deconstructs the phenomenon of hate speech and its impact. He explains that there is an organic relationship between hate rhetoric and wartime violations. Abu al-Joukh argues that hate speech acts as a catalyst for violence—sharpening resolve, mobilizing communities, and justifying atrocities. Its power becomes especially potent when intertwined with misinformation and fabricated narratives. False news and rumors often amplify or distort real events to inflame emotions, while at other times entirely fictitious stories are created and adapted to fit local contexts, ensuring that hate speech resonates with the fears and identities of those in conflict zones.

Abu al-Joukh further explains that since the outbreak of the Sudanese war in mid-April 2023, hate speech—along with the deliberate spread of misleading and false information—has been systematically employed as a tool of war mobilization and to demonize opponents. One of the most alarming consequences, he notes, has been the encouragement of civilians to arm themselves and participate in combat, often positioning themselves within residential areas. This dynamic has effectively shifted battlefronts into civilian spaces, blurring the line between combatants and non-combatants. As a result, civilians who have taken up arms have come to be perceived as legitimate military targets, leading to tragic cycles of retaliation and the spread of violence into previously safe zones. Abu al-Joukh considers this to be the most destructive outcome of hate-fueled mobilization.

Abu al-Joukh also emphasizes that once the Sudanese war eventually comes to an end, it will be crucial not to overlook the role of those who promoted hate speech. Accountability, he insists, must extend beyond those who carried out physical crimes to include the individuals and media outlets that incited them. Drawing a parallel with Rwanda, he recalls how the International Criminal Tribunal for Rwanda prosecuted media figures responsible for spreading hate propaganda—most notably in the case of Radio Télévision Libre des Mille Collines, whose broadcasts played a central role in fueling the genocide.

Experts analyzing the proliferation of hate speech in Sudan argue that it is neither a recent nor a spontaneous phenomenon; rather, it has deep historical roots shaped by decades of state failure to manage ethnic and cultural diversity and by the transformation of official institutions into instruments of discrimination and incitement. This institutionalization of bias has turned hate rhetoric from a marginal or media-driven occurrence into a structural feature of Sudan’s political and social order.

Thus, when the war eventually ends, the Sudanese state will have a moral and political duty to hold accountable those who spread hate speech and fueled the conflict. Justice for the victims cannot wait—it is the first step toward breaking the cycle of violence and rebuilding a unified, stable Sudan. Accountability must reach beyond those who committed physical crimes to include the voices that incited them: the individuals and media outlets whose words divided communities, normalized cruelty, and tore apart the country’s social fabric. Ignoring their role would only deepen impunity and invite new rounds of bloodshed. Yet this pursuit of justice should not be confused with revenge; it must instead lay the groundwork for a new national consciousness—one that values diversity and condemns incitement in all its forms.

Echoing Maher Abu al-Joukh’s perspective, political analyst Ahmed Babiker³ argues that hate speech extends beyond mere discrimination or contempt to something far more dangerous—active incitement to violence and the annihilation of the “other.” Such rhetoric, he notes, is a hallmark of civil wars, as exemplified by the genocidal campaign in Rwanda in 1994. In Sudan’s case, Babiker emphasizes that state authorities have played a central role in amplifying hate speech, particularly under the “Salvation” regime⁴ of former President Omar al-Bashir.

He notes that while hate speech has been a major force sustaining the war, it differs fundamentally from battlefield crimes in both nature and method. It creates the “psychological legitimacy” for killing and violence without directly carrying them out, which makes combating it far more complex, as it penetrates the collective consciousness through language, media, and culture. Therefore, no peace process in Sudan can genuinely succeed without addressing hate speech as the symbolic prelude to the atrocities committed on the ground.

During the era of the Salvation regime, hate speech was not confined to individuals or specific social groups—it was adopted as the authoritarian language of the state itself. Since seizing power in 1989, the regime became so deeply entrenched in continuous warfare that it was nearly impossible to find any discourse emanating from it that was not framed through the lens of conflict. Babiker explains this reality, saying: “In general, civil wars, by their nature, draw much of their endurance from their ability to feed on hate speech—rhetoric built on discrimination and the degradation of the other. We experienced this during the southern war, which, under the Salvation regime, relied on religious, cultural, and racial discrimination to sustain itself. The war was further inflamed under the pretext of jihad against unbelief and the infidels, along with claims that ‘these people do not resemble us.’ I still wonder why they should have had to resemble us at all, and whether their presence in their own homeland should depend on resembling others.”

In essence, Babiker poses a central question: What are the normative qualities that define the “model” to which others are expected to conform? And which social group represents that model?

The hate speech that sustained Sudan’s successive wars has left a devastating legacy. It contributed to the deaths of more than two million citizens, the destruction and burning of entire villages, and widespread crimes against humanity. It also played a decisive role in the secession of South Sudan and later served as a powerful tool of mobilization during the war in Darfur. Over time, this rhetoric generated a reactionary and racially charged counter-identity discourse—one rooted in hostility toward the so-called “North” and the Nile Valley communities, and it ultimately resulted in unspeakable atrocities.

These dynamics became even more pronounced—and more brutal—after the outbreak of the April 15 war. Both warring parties employed extreme forms of hate speech and discriminatory rhetoric as tools of mobilization, using them to justify continued fighting and to incite massacres that amount to war crimes and crimes against humanity.

Babiker notes the emergence of exclusionary expressions such as “Arabs in the diaspora” and Awlad al-Deif (the sons of guests)—rhetoric that effectively strips certain groups of their Sudanese identity. He also refers to the so-called “Law of Strange Faces,” a social custom—rather than a legal statute—that has come to supersede formal law in some areas.

Conversely, a counter-discourse has emerged targeting northerners and the so-called Nile Valley communities. The result, as Babiker observes, is that the atrocities now witnessed in Sudan’s war—killings based on identity, the execution of prisoners, and even beheadings—are the direct product of hate speech that draws on non-political sources of mobilization, such as ethnicity and culture. The true catastrophe, he warns, is that this rhetoric has carved a deep wound into the collective social consciousness. Healing this psychological and moral fracture, he argues, must become one of the foremost priorities once this devastating war finally ends.

From a legal standpoint, expert Younis Hamad Mohamed Saleh⁵ argues that hate speech acts as a catalyst for intercommunal conflict in Sudan. He traces this logic to the “theory of tension,” once employed by Britain and later adapted by Israel, which used hatred, racism, and contempt as instruments of control and division. Saleh maintains that it is impossible to separate the dynamics of war from hate speech, as the latter often acts as the psychological trigger behind civil strife across Sudan’s western, eastern, and southern regions. He contends that it was hate speech that rendered the secession of South Sudan almost inevitable even before the 2011 referendum. Although the Sudan People’s Liberation Movement (SPLM) had not originally advocated separation, persistent hate rhetoric fueled resentment and convinced many southerners that unity was unattainable. Saleh ultimately holds the policies of the defunct regime responsible for institutionalizing this discourse, arguing that they entrenched a deep conviction among Sudanese citizens that the state itself had become the primary agent of fragmentation and the destruction of the social fabric.

Saleh also emphasizes that social media has played a pivotal role in amplifying hate speech, as individuals increasingly broadcast live content reinforced by powerful visual and emotional imagery. These digital platforms have eroded traditional social bonds and fueled mistrust within communities. He warns that the principle of national loyalty—once revered—has been cynically exploited by proponents of hate, who portray their targets as disloyal, or unpatriotic. In doing so, questioning the loyalty of others has become one of the most effective tools of incitement.

The legal expert further explains that engaging in or promoting hate speech constitutes a criminal offense. In the United States, for example, authorities have long recognized the destructive consequences of such rhetoric and have enacted specific legislation to criminalize hate-based acts and incitement. By contrast, most Arab and Islamic constitutions lack comparable provisions, leaving a dangerous legal vacuum that allows individuals to disseminate hate speech with little fear of accountability.

Saleh notes that legal scholars and policymakers who understand the dangers of hate speech have proposed a set of guiding principles to mitigate its impact. These include:

1. Raising public awareness about the social and moral dangers of hate speech.
2. Resisting hate speech through peaceful means while ensuring that its advocates are held accountable regardless of their positions or social standings.
3. Monitoring and prosecuting inciters, ensuring that those who promote hate speech are not shielded from legal responsibility.
4. Enacting comprehensive legislation that criminalizes hate speech in all its forms.
5. Prohibiting propaganda activities that promote hate speech.
6. Promoting respect for ethnic, cultural, and religious diversity.

From a social perspective, expert Asma Mohamed Jumaa⁶ emphasizes that hate speech is an acquired behavior shaped by a combination of psychological, social, cultural, political, and religious factors. She notes that the prevalence or decline of such rhetoric is closely linked to the state’s role in cultivating a just, informed, and developed society. Jumaa warns that when governments engage in misinformation or systemic indoctrination, they erode public awareness and perpetuate cycles of injustice and poverty.

In the same context, lawyer Noon Ibrahim Kashkoush⁷ notes that Sudan currently lacks an explicit legal framework prohibiting hate speech. There is no clear statute that directly criminalizes incitement or discrimination, making it extremely difficult for authorities to take effective legal action against perpetrators.

Kashkoush stressed the need to establish specialized prosecution offices and courts dedicated to handling cases of hate speech. Such bodies, she argues, would enhance the quality of investigation and accountability while ensuring that legal action remains consistent with constitutional principles and human rights standards. These specialized institutions should guarantee equality before the law and explicitly prohibit discrimination based on race, religion, or custom.

Moaz Ezz El-Din,⁸ an activist dedicated to combating hate speech, explains that genocide is never a sudden event but the culmination of a gradual process. It often begins with the spread of negative stereotypes targeting a particular group, followed by systematic dehumanization through political rhetoric and media narratives. As this discourse gains traction, it legitimizes exclusion and marginalization, gradually normalizing hostility toward the targeted community. When such messages are repeated in a charged environment, they evolve into open calls for violence—creating the conditions in which mass atrocities, even extermination, become conceivable and ultimately justifiable.

Conclusion:

The ongoing war has devastated every aspect of life in Sudan, leaving behind a humanitarian and health crisis of immense proportions. To prevent a complete national collapse, Sudan must restore the cohesion and institutional balance it once possessed—before fragmentation and division took root. The weakening of state and civil institutions has allowed hate speech to flourish unchecked, while the absence of accountability and legal deterrence has emboldened its promoters. Likewise, the decline of political parties and unions—once responsible for cultivating civic engagement and democratic awareness—has eroded the frameworks that unite society. The lack of equitable development has further deepened resentment among marginalized groups, fueling feelings of exclusion and hatred that now threaten the very fabric of social peace and national unity.

Confronting hate speech requires the activation and empowerment of state institutions—particularly the judiciary and the education system—alongside the strengthening of political parties and unions, the regulation of communication channels, and the fostering of a culture of balanced and reconciliatory discourse.

These efforts must be supported by genuine political will and close cooperation among state institutions, the media, and civil society. A responsible media environment that conveys truth without incitement must be cultivated, and dialogue must be established as the primary alternative to hostility. Above all, peace must be embraced not merely as a slogan but as a lived culture.

Addressing hate speech in Sudan requires a comprehensive vision that goes beyond security or legislative measures to confront the deeper social and political roots that sustain it. Hatred does not emerge in a vacuum—it is born of chronic marginalization, unresolved identity conflicts, and decades of mismanaged diversity. Therefore, the remedy must begin with strengthening the values of equal citizenship and recognizing cultural and ethnic diversity as a source of strength rather than a threat.

The media, therefore, has a critical role to play by upholding professional standards, reporting responsibly, and avoiding narratives that deepen division or incite hostility. Equally vital are the efforts of civil society, which must foster a culture of dialogue and tolerance while monitoring social media platforms that have become powerful vehicles for spreading hatred.

For these efforts to succeed, the state must reinforce long-term educational and media policies that cultivate respect and elevate the value of diversity. The struggle against hate speech is not merely a battle of words—it is a battle of awareness and nation-building.

There must be responsible coverage of sensitive debates, active monitoring of content that incites hatred or perpetuates division, and the enactment of clear legislation criminalizing ethnic and regional incitement. Public platforms must be held accountable for the material they disseminate, while long-term investment in education is essential to embed the values of peace and citizenship within society. Educational curricula should promote diversity, challenge stereotypes, and dismantle the prejudices that sustain hate speech across communities.

Comprehensive national reconciliation remains the most essential framework for any lasting solution. It is the only path capable of restoring trust between Sudan’s social and political constituencies and of renewing citizens’ sense of shared belonging to a single homeland—one that is not defined by regionalism or factional loyalties.

Fighting hate speech, therefore, is not merely a moral duty but a national necessity for Sudan’s unity and security. The same words that ignite wars can also sow the seeds of peace, and the media that once amplified division can, through responsibility and integrity, become a force for healing and reconciliation.

Accordingly, addressing this challenge cannot be confined to legal reform or media oversight alone; it requires a comprehensive cultural transformation that redefines the notion of the “other” within the Sudanese consciousness. Hatred is not only a discourse, but an intellectual construct born of exclusion and marginalization. It will persist until a new social contract is forged—one grounded in citizenship, equality, and the recognition of every human being’s intrinsic value, above and beyond any tribal, ethnic, or regional affiliation.