Orbits: On Independence Day, What Do We Need

By: Muawad Mustafa Rashid

On January 1, 1956, Sudan raised its flag of independence, marking the end of the colonial era and the beginning of a new era supposedly based on national sovereignty and the rule of the popular will.

The scene was awe-inspiring, not only for its symbolism but also for the historical promise it represented of a modern state that respects its people, manages its differences wisely, and places the public interest above all else.

Sudan is a nation shaped over centuries of cultural and political interaction, from the kingdoms of Kush, Napata, and Meroe, to the national states and sultanates, culminating in the modern state. This accumulation was not merely history, but a symbolic and human capital that could have formed the foundation for a stable state. However, what transpired after independence revealed a profound flaw in the administration of the state, not in the nation’s capabilities.

Sudan’s failure was not due to a lack of resources or human capital, but rather because power remained a source of conflict, not a constructive project. Since independence, successive political and military elites treated the state not as a public trust, but as a temporary prize. The faces changed, but the approach remained the same: monopolizing decision-making, marginalizing society, and prioritizing clinging to power over the national interest.

The circle of power expanded, while the circle of the nation shrank. With every political division, state institutions weakened, and with every short-sighted settlement, the crisis was postponed, not resolved. Disputes were managed with a mentality of dominance, not partnership, resulting in a fragile state, a fractured authority, and a society paying the price for mistakes in which it had no part.

The Sudanese citizen was not absent from this scene; on the contrary, he was its perpetual victim. He was burdened beyond his capacity, endured the unbearable, and sacrificed his security, livelihood, and the future of his children. He was asked to be patriotic when patriotism was being used as a cover for failure, and to remain silent when silence was only exacerbating the crises. Thus, society was drained, not out of necessity, but through mismanagement and a lack of accountability.

Today, as the country reaches one of its most perilous moments, it is no longer possible to escape into the language of symbols alone. The nation is being torn apart by open political conflict, the state is losing its essential functions, and the citizen is bleeding in a war that neither represents his interests nor protects his future. Yet, official discourse remains incapable of acknowledging the roots of the crisis, contenting itself with exchanging accusations or reproducing the same crises.

The independence we celebrate today poses a direct political question: Do we truly possess an independent state, or merely a flag devoid of institutional substance? A state that is incapable of protecting its citizens, controlling weapons, and enforcing the rule of law is a state with diminished independence, regardless of the slogans it raises.

True independence is only complete with a mature, civil state where power is accountable, resources are managed transparently, and human dignity is protected without discrimination. It is an independence that redefines politics as a public service, not an arena for settling scores, and puts an end to the cycle of conflict that has drained the nation for decades.

On Independence Day, Sudan needs not symbolic celebrations as much as it needs political courage to acknowledge mistakes and close the door on tampering with the country’s destiny. Either independence will be the gateway to building a state that respects its people, or it will remain an annual commemoration while the nation bleeds silently, beneath a flag that flies alone.

This flag will remain high and fluttering, pulsating with the meaning of homeland, a testament to the pride of a people, the dignity of a nation, and a will that neither wounds nor hardships can break. A flag that embodies the Sudan we love and dream of, a homeland that embraces all its children, respects their diversity, and grants them their full right to dignity, security, and hope. A state based on justice, inclusive of all, and excluding no one.