How Europe’s migration policy and arms empowered Sudan’s warlords | Opinions


Sudan was on the brink of crisis long before open war broke out in April 2023. Decades of authoritarian rule under Omar al-Bashir resulted in a fragile economy, fragmented security forces, and entrenched paramilitary structures.

Following the coup that ousted al-Bashir in 2019, a fragile civil-military transitional arrangement failed to unify competing factions. Political instability, local rebellion, and growing rivalry between the Sudanese Armed Forces (SAF) and the Rapid Support Forces (RSF) – successors to the Popular Defense Forces, a government-backed militia known as the Janjaweed that had committed war crimes in Darfur in the early 2000s – escalated into a full-blown conflict.

By mid-2023, Sudan was effectively divided into disputed territories, with major urban centers such as Khartoum and Omdurman transformed into battlefields, and millions of civilians internally displaced or forced across the borders as refugees.

Although geographically removed, the European Union played a consequential role in these developments. For almost a decade, it pursued a strategy of “externalizing” migration controls, directing aid, training and equipment to African states to reduce irregular migration towards Europe.

In Sudan, this approach produced unintended and disastrous consequences for which the EU has yet to be held accountable. Funding was initially justified under “migration management” and “capacity building”, coupled with opaque arms flows, Gulf intermediaries, and weak monitoring. European money and material, intended to stabilize the population and impose border forces to prevent Africans’ migratory ambitions, has indirectly only strengthened the actors committing war crimes in Sudan.

Between 2014 and 2018, the EU invested more than 200 million euros ($232m at current exchange rates) in Sudan through the EU Emergency Trust Fund for Africa (EUTF) and the Better Migration Management (BMM) initiative.

The formal purpose of these programs was to strengthen migration control, border security, and anti-trafficking enforcement. In fact, they strengthened cooperation between the EU and Sudan’s security structures, including units that effectively merged into the RSF.

In early 2017, the Enough Project, an advocacy group focused on conflict, corruption and human rights, published a report titled Border Control from Hell, which warned that “the most serious concern about the EU’s new partnership with Sudan is that the Rapid Support Forces (RSF), one of the most abusive paramilitary groups in the country, stands to benefit from EU funding” and “that the tools will identify migrants. and enables registration, it will also strengthen the surveillance capabilities of the Sudanese government which has violently repressed Sudanese citizens for the last 28 years”.

Two years later, the EU had to suspend several migration-control activities in Sudan because there was a risk that resources could be “diverted to repressive purposes”, according to an EU official document cited by German news outlet Deutsche Welle.

And yet, a factsheet titled What the EU really does in Sudan, published on the bloc’s website in 2018, claimed: “The EU does not provide any financial support to the Government of Sudan… The Sudanese Army Rapid Support Force does not benefit, directly or indirectly, from EU funding.”

All this raises an important question: if the EU was aware of the risks of divergence, why did it still invest hundreds of millions in a context where control over training, equipment and the end use of funds was clearly weak?

Worse, the EU’s role was not limited to supplying money that could be misused. It also provided weapons, albeit indirectly.

As the conflict deepened, investigators began to discover foreign-made weapons and ammunition circulating widely between the RSF and SAF. Verified imagery, open-source analysis and serial number tracing have revealed European-made systems on Sudan’s battlefields. In November 2024, Amnesty International released an investigation revealing that Nimr Ajban armored personnel carriers (APCs) were equipped with French-made Galix defensive systems. Amnesty analysts verified images and video from multiple Sudanese locations and concluded that, if deployed in Darfur, their use would violate a long-standing UN arms embargo on the region.

In April, an investigation by France24 and the Reuters news agency revealed 81 mm mortar shells found in Bulgaria were in an RSF convoy in North Darfur. The markings on this ammunition match mortar bombs manufactured by a Bulgarian firm and legally exported to the UAE in 2019. The Bulgarian government did not authorize the re-export of shells from the UAE to Sudan.

In October, The Guardian reported that British military equipment, including small arms target systems and engines for APCs, was used by the RSF in Sudan, and may have been supplied by the UAE.

Overall, these findings reflect a pattern: European-made weapons and weapons systems, which were legally exported to third countries, were subsequently diverted into the Sudanese conflict, despite sanctions and alleged safeguards.

Although the UAE denies that it plays any role in the conflict, its status as an intermediary hub for arms re-export has been repeatedly documented. Nevertheless, European suppliers bound by end-user agreements and export-control frameworks share the responsibility for ensuring compliance.

Under United Kingdom and European Union rules, governments must refuse or revoke licenses when there is a clear risk of them being granted to conflict zones or human rights abusers. Therefore, the use of European-made weapons and weapons systems in Sudan demands a rigorous reassessment of post-shipment monitoring and enforcement.

Despite this, European and British governments have continued to issue new export licenses to potential violators, including the United Arab Emirates. A recent report by Middle East Eye shows that Britain approved almost $227 million in military exports to the UAE between April and June this year, even after it was reported that equipment supplied by the Emirates had reached the RSF.

European countries are also no exception in failing to ensure that their weapons are not sent to war zones under the embargo.

My own country, South Africa, has also faced criticism for its lack of controls on arms shipments. In the mid-2010s, the National Conventional Arms Control Committee (NCACC) faced international and domestic scrutiny after Saudi and Emirati forces in Yemen allegedly used South African-made weapons and ammunition.

As a result, in 2019, the NCACC delayed or halted export clearances, particularly for the “most lethal” items, amid controversies over updated inspection clauses and human rights concerns. South African authorities demanded that they be granted access to facilities in importing countries to ensure compliance with end-user agreements – which the United Arab Emirates and Saudi Arabia, as well as several other countries, refused to provide. By 2022, the previously withheld consignments were finally cleared under renegotiated terms.

Today, evidence suggests that South African weapons may also have been diverted to Sudan. Investigators and open-source analysts claim to have identified weapons consistent with South African manufacture in Sudan.

The South African case demonstrates that even when there is political will to ensure compliance with end-user agreements for arms sales, enforcement can be challenging. And yet, it is a necessary and important part of peacebuilding efforts.

If democratic governments want to regain credibility, end-use monitoring must be implemented, not a bureaucratic concession. The NCACC in Pretoria and export control authorities in Brussels, Sofia, Paris and London should publish transparent audits of previous licenses, investigate credible diversion cases and suspend new approvals where the risks are not mitigated.

In parallel, the EU must ensure that migration management funds cannot be hijacked by armed actors.

Without such measures, Europe’s migration policy and South Africa’s defense trade risk a serious contradiction: appropriate initiatives in the name of security that perpetuate insecurity.

The views expressed in this article are those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the editorial policy of Al Jazeera.



<a href

Leave a Comment