Dear Editor,
Before Sudanese military officials were politely asked to leave Chad in 2005 (the Chadian government having accused their Sudanese counterparts of supporting rebels in the Chad’s restive east); their favourite hang-out spot was the Sudanese Club in Abeche, a town close to Chad’s eastern border with Darfur. I was invited to the club once by a Chadian military official back in 2006. It was the place where Sudanese in Abeche (both military and civilian) hung out, traded war stories and sat around drinking juices. What was shocking was that the Sudanese and AU (African Union) soldiers sat together on a large furash (rug) and bought each other rounds of mango and banana juice. It seemed absurd that the perpetrators and the protectors could sit side by side here in Eastern Chad. “No, no, you have it all wrong we are here in Chad not as observers, but because we are part of the mission in Darfur… we know the land and the people so we are also a part of the force,” a Sudanese officer explained when I asked about the role of the Sudanese in Chad.
The “mission in Darfur,” as he called it, was the AU’s AMIS (African Union Mission in Sudan). A force of about 7000 soldiers drawn from several African nations charged with monitoring, and documenting human rights and cease-fire violations in Darfur, as well as protecting civilians from the Khartoum’s proxy militia, the Janjaweed. From the beginning the mission has been hampered by, as one AMIS officer put it “technical difficulties.” These glitches have resulted in continued Janjaweed activity and have highlighted the problems a cash-strapped continent and its regional grouping face when trying to match their rhetoric with appropriate action. Finally the mission was merged with UN blue helmets to become the UN-AU hybrid known as UN-AU Mission in Darfur (UNAMID).
“You should be very careful, in the wilderness here things are never quite what they seem, you never know what is a mirage and what is real. How can you tell who is Arab with a gun (emphasised by the waving of his Kalashnikov assault rifle in my face) and who is a Janjaweed, you tell me!” The words of the Chadian Arab sheikh in Darfur ring true for most things in the region.
Initially, the AMIS and later UNAMID were seen by Western funders (who footed the yearly $200 million plus annual bill) as an ‘African solution for an African problem.’ The AU nations saw it as a baptism by fire for their peace-keeping programme. To the Sudan it was a blessing, it was the smokescreen they needed to continue their campaign of genocide/gross human rights violations/state sponsored ethnic cleansing… it was… a mirage.
More than 15 yeas after Somali, western nations (especially the United States) still have a bitter taste in their mouths when the phrase ‘African intervention’ is brought up. As a result they rallied around the call for an African solution to Darfur; this in spite of the fact that the situation on the ground bore more resemblance to Rwanda and Kosovo than Somalia. Thus, western nations were willing to offer AMIS and now UNAMID assistance, but were relieved when Khartoum ruled out allowing UN or other “western agents” into Darfur. The US, NATO and the EU have therefore footed the bill for the AMIS. They have also provided extensive training for would-be African peacekeepers, even provided them with uniforms, but not with the force multipliers like APV (armoured personnel carriers) and helicopters they desperately need. Things however weren’t quite what they seemed. The AMIS-UNAMID deployment to Darfur, allowed the western diplomats to circumvent the UN’s Security Council, where many feared a Russian or Chinese veto if sanctions against the Sudan were tabled. More importantly it meant the US and the UK (Sudan’s former colonial ruler) did not have to bully, threaten, or invade another Muslim nation.
Things seemed to be going well − or at least from a distance, a very far distance, the mirage appeared stable.
The fact of the matter was the force was in no way ready for deployment in a real conflict situation. The plan (which called for peacekeeping brigades to be stationed in west, east, central, south and north African sub-regions), was little more than a vision… a mirage if you will. “You know dis plan we were only about one year, or less into de implementation of it, it was not ready to be tested like dis,” one Nigerian officer confessed to me.
In spite of Rwandan calls for a stronger mandate the AMIS-UNAMID has allowed itself to become a tool of Khartoum. Its deployment allowed the regime of Omar Bashir to quiet western criticism of the Sudanese complicity in Darfur, as well as just say, ‘hey move along, the situation is under control, nothing to see or intervene in here.’ AMIS troops frequently complain that when they leave their bases to investigate cease-fire violations or government attacks, their Sudanese counterparts call ahead to warn military and militia commanders of the approaching mirage − I mean protection force.
Daily reports of cease-fire violations by the Janjaweed, Sudanese army and the rebels stand as a testament to the AMIS-UNAMID failure to be anything more than a… a mirage. What is needed now is for the international and African communities to wake up to what is going on in the Sudan. What is needed now is a UN force with a clear mandate and strong presence, along the lines of the Kosovo intervention force if need be. What is not needed is more AMIS-UNAMID battalions, more Sudanese officers, more funding or more denials. What is needed is for the UN to wake up and step in with a real international and real protection force. But no one in the corridors of power wants to hear this kind of talk, no western government wants to sacrifice their electoral votes or soldiers in a place they can’t find on a map, none of them wants to sour the possibility, no matter how distant, that Sudanese oil contracts may some day be awarded to their nationals. In short none of them wants to get too close to Darfur and the AMIS-UNAMID, lest they see it for what it really is… a big fat… mirage.
So in refugee camps in Darfur and Eastern Chad the suffering continues. And even though the Sudanese military officials are no longer welcome in Chad, I am sure somewhere in Darfur tonight, they will get together over a glass of mango and banana juice and stare with awe at what they have created − a beautifully horrific but oh so stable mirage.
Yours faithfully,
Kwesi Sansculotte-Greenidge
