Drones turn Sudan’s ‘forgotten’ war into a relentless civilian killing field

OBEID, Sudan — The first drone arrived around 3 a.m.; its presence was announced by the sound of anti-aircraft fire drums rolling down the blackened boulevards. More drones followed, once again plunging the residents of this besieged city into a 21st century version of the Blitz.

This is the civil war in Sudan as the conflict enters its fourth year: a stunningly brutal conflict in which stagnant front lines have given way to intense drone attacks, many of which target rearguard cities after sunset. Five drones were shot down in Obeid this March night. On a typical night, more than a dozen will attack.

While much of the world’s attention in recent years has been focused on Gaza and Ukraine, Sudan’s civil war has killed more than 150,000 people, and more than a year has passed since that number. Some estimate the death toll to be more than three times that number. Official death toll in Gaza It is stated that there are more than 72,000, but this is also considered an undercount.

About 880 Sudanese civilians were killed in drone strikes between January and April, United Nations human rights chief Volker Turk said in April, making drones “by far the leading cause of civilian deaths.” This increase in lethality underscores the power of high-tech but cheaply produced drones.

A fuse was removed from a drone that was shot down in Obeid, Sudan. Some drones drop bombs, while others act as missiles and hit targets.

The war is a power struggle between the Sudanese army and its one-time ally, the Rapid Support Forces (RSF), a paramilitary force that maintains control of the country. Both sides are deploying aircraft-like unmanned aerial vehicles, or UAVs, as well as quadcopters.

Drones have disrupted the cycle of war: The rainy season, which runs from June to September, normally heralds a lull in conflict. Instead, Volker said, “the increased dependence on UAVs allows hostilities to continue unabated.”

The epicenter of the drone-supported conflict is the Kordofan region of central Sudan, which is divided into North, South and West Kordofan states.

In Obeid, the capital of North Kordofan, almost daily drone attacks add an insidious rhythm to the lives of residents; It makes every trip to the grocery store, school, health clinic or a relative’s house a gamble.

Obeid has become a major logistics hub for the Sudanese army, and incessant attacks from the air tracked by UAVs are driving soldiers to splash mud on vehicles to hide them from drone optics. Some drones drop bombs, some act as missiles, and some perform reconnaissance.

Although government troops broke the RSF blockade of Obeid last year, militias are still positioned in the north, south and east of the city. The highway to Khartoum, the city’s only supply route, is a frequent target. Every few miles you see charred vehicle carcasses that do not go unnoticed by the drone.

During peaceful times, Ramadan would normally see people hanging out at curbside restaurants and cafes after a day-long fast.

But in March, night attacks and the lack of street lighting (lights were dimmed to make targeting difficult) meant few people stayed past midnight. Sure enough, at 3 a.m. a drone attacked an oil depot on the edge of Obeid. Only after sunrise did people dare to leave their homes, and at that time a raging fire spread thick clouds of smoke over the city.

“We’ll be here until tomorrow to deal with this fire,” said Maj. Issa Hamdoun, the civil defense commander, as he watched his men touch the fire hose to the rubble of the building.

Next to him was Police Sergeant. Yahya Sharif Muhammad. His uniform and scalp were covered in shiny rivulets of oil, water, soot, and sweat.

“This is an industrial area and there are a lot of things around that could catch fire,” he said, dodging some oily drops of water.

It is unclear whether the attack targeted a nearby electrical substation, but residents accuse RSF of regularly targeting civilian infrastructure.

“This is just wanton destruction,” said Ashraf al-Ahmed, the caretaker of Kordofan University, pointing to where a drone grazed the top of a campus building, shattered a wall and crashed in front of the Environmental Studies lecture hall. Others shot the hall itself.

Circling around the crater, Al-Ahmad walked towards the blown-up remains of the hall; His feet crunched on a thicket of glass, wood splinters, and insulation. Sunlight filtered through three large holes in the roof and dozens of pinholes from shrapnel; Twisted strips of corrugated metal and scaffolding lay on the floor, thrown around the shattered tables like streamers at a party.

“They hit this building, and the day before they hit another one on campus,” Al-Ahmad said. “For what? Even the students aren’t here anymore.”

Components of the drones that hit Obeid, which has become an important logistics center for the Sudanese army.

Observers say the RSF has resorted to drone strikes to harass civilians far from the front lines, given its lack of progress in recent months.

“RSF can’t apply force any other way right now, so they’re launching drones like IEDs from the air,” said Nathaniel Raymond, managing director of the Humanitarian Research Laboratory at the Yale School of Public Health.

The Sudanese army also cracked down, killing hundreds of civilians in what the UN and human rights groups described as indiscriminate attacks. In April, the army sent a number of drones to the city of Nyala in South Darfur state, the seat of power of the RSF’s parallel government.

The fact that both sides can field drones underscores the international dimension of the conflict in Africa’s third largest country; Many players deny that the conflict in Sudan has been described as a forgotten war.

The Sudanese army received UAV and military support from Iran, Türkiye, Russia and Egypt; the latter conducts drone operations from a base near the Sudanese border. Saudi Arabia is giving billions of dollars’ worth of UAVs and air defense systems it bought from Pakistan, and even fifth-generation Chinese warplanes, to Sudan.

How RSF has an inexhaustible supply of drones has been the subject of speculation, but observers say RSF has a wealthy patron in the Persian Gulf in the United Arab Emirates.

The Emirate has consistently denied these allegations and insisted it does not support any side in the war. But Sudanese officials, UN investigators and open source experts say the UAE has created what they describe as a transcontinental logistics pipeline using airports, ports and transit highways in Chad, South Sudan, Libya, Somalia, Ethiopia and the Central African Republic to deliver drones and the mercenaries operating them to the RSF.

Serial numbers and other markings that can be used to identify a drone’s origin are filed away.

This logistics network has proven to be “dynamic and flexible,” Raymond said. Investigators say earlier this year Somalia, whose ports, airports and military bases are used for Emirati material transfers, broke bilateral agreements with the UAE. Saudi Arabia and Egypt rejected UAE’s flight permits.

But shipments continued through increasingly circuitous routes, using other countries as launching pads for RSF attacks. In April, the Sudanese military said it had “conclusive evidence” that the UAE-supplied drones that hit Khartoum airport were launched from Ethiopia, calling it “a direct attack against Sudan and will not be met with silence.”

The UAE and Ethiopia have vociferously rejected the accusations as “fabricated” and “baseless”.

Determining the origin of drones is deliberately made difficult.

In a trench near the military outpost on the outskirts of Obeid, an army engineer was walking through the cemetery containing RSF drones that had been shot down in recent days. He carefully stepped over the broken wing of what appeared to be a Chinese-made CH-95 drone, then retrieved parts of the electronic innards of a smaller drone and showed them to a visiting journalist: All identifying serial numbers had been meticulously etched.

Weapons researchers showed images and video of the smaller drone’s components; They say its body has been copied by dozens of Chinese companies and now sell similar models on AliExpress, China’s equivalent of Amazon. The engine is described as an engine frequently used by model aircraft enthusiasts. Most of the components are off-the-shelf and difficult to keep track of.

Although the origins of drones are open to debate, there is no doubt about their impact in accelerating displacement in the conflict that has already displaced more than 14 million people from their homes.

The result can be seen in the Al-Mina camp, a tent city adjacent to the northern entrance to Obeid, which is now home to at least 49,000 people, with more arriving by the day, said Munir Ibrahim, a social researcher in the government.

“We have people who have been here for two years, and there are people who came just a few days ago,” Ibrahim said, pointing to the warehouse that serves as a temporary reception center for hundreds of new arrivals.

“There is not enough food and medicine for everyone. People are still waiting for tents.”

Fatima Mustafa, 39, fled the town of Bara, 62 kilometers north of Obeid, six months ago. The first sign of trouble was when an RSF drone crashed near his home, injuring his 15-year-old son, Mohammad Hamdan. He pointed out scars left by shrapnel and stitches all over his skull.

However, this was only the beginning of the RSF attack on the town.

“The three of them broke into our house and forced us to give them all the money we had. They did this when I told them I had nothing,” he said, raising his left hand and showing where his thumb was.

In a nearby tent was Zuhoor Musa Abdul Rahman, a 30-year-old housewife who described with unnatural calm the horrors that had spurred her to flee El Fasher, a city about 300 miles east of Obeid.

RSF invaded El Fasher in October; He committed such massacre and plunder that piles of corpses could be seen on satellite images, their blood darkening the sand around them. The scene recalled horrific attacks by Janjaweed militias, forerunners of the RSF, who terrorized Sudan’s Darfur region a generation ago.

When the army withdrew from the city, Abdul Rahman decided to flee with her eight children, her husband, two brothers and sister, and other relatives.

The men wore women’s clothing to escape the RSF militia, but were spotted. Abdul Rahman said one of his brothers, Hussam, was taken to a pickup truck, where one of the fighters stabbed him in the back. Both of his sisters’ husbands were killed. His 19-year-old brother Azzam is still missing.

It took 20 days to reach Obeid, mostly on foot but also occasionally riding a donkey cart or livestock truck. When they arrived in the city, only 12 family members were with Abdul Rahman. He said the rest were either dead or missing.

“I lost over 100 members of my family alone,” he said, his voice rising in anger for a moment before falling back into his normally spoken monotone.

“I know all their names and they are all gone.”

Her face remained impassive even as tears began to form and flow down her cheeks. He cried silently, his shoulders moving slightly with the sobs. No one moved to comfort him.