Let’s Preserve 400 Languages from Fighting Each Other
Yousif Abdullah
Sudan is one of the most culturally rich countries in the world. It was truly a continent within one country, spanning a geographical area of one million square miles. This was before it split into two nations with the creation of South Sudan. Though South Sudan became independent in 2011, its influence remains significant.
Sudan was full of diverse life experiences, enriched by its vast human, material, and agricultural resources. Above all, the country distinguished itself from others with its tribal, ethnic, cultural, and religious diversity, a treasure of immeasurable value.
This country was a melting pot of races. Since ancient times, it has been a magnet for numerous human groups. Statistics and research indicate that Sudan’s population comprises more than 60 broad ethnic groups, branching into 597 sub-ethnicities, speaking over 400 living and active languages.
Despite this extraordinary diversity, Sudan maintained a level of social and cultural cohesion, living largely in peaceful coexistence. This harmony was supported by life experiences capable of containing and resolving conflicts among its people.
However, for political and overlapping reasons, this rich diversity was exploited and manipulated, which brought devastating consequences to the country. This mismanagement has culminated in the ongoing civil war that erupted in April of last year when conflict over power broke out between the army and the Rapid Support Forces militia. The war has escalated to horrific levels, fueled by an unchecked rise in hate speech.
This rhetoric has turned the so-called “senseless war,” as it was labeled in its early days, into a brutal reality, pushing Sudan and its communities to the brink of collapse and disintegration. It is a terrifying prospect that seems endless.
A prevailing political analysis has often described conflicts in modern Sudan as struggles between two cultures: pastoralist and agricultural. Analysts have pointed, for example, to events that previously unfolded in the Darfur states. Over time, however, flawed political strategies generalized this conflict and transformed it into something more complex. Political discourse began assigning specific roles to tribes, creating stereotypes for each tribe and region. This shift became one of the primary drivers fueling and escalating the wars we now witness in Sudan.
In many ways, Sudan’s situation is not unique among developing countries, where tribal structures—though not tribalism—serve as sources of strength. What makes Sudan’s case particularly unique is what occurred during the “Salvation” regime (1989–2019).
During this era, tribal identity was absorbed into political action, either drawing tribes close to the regime and its economy or marginalizing them. This process invoked what sociologist Ibn Khaldun referred to as asabiyya (group solidarity), which overshadowed any sense of national identity within the modern state. It intensified tribal tendencies, fostering violent conflicts and escalating armed struggles. What was once localized tribal conflict evolved into a broader existential and power struggle at its highest level.
In truth, the Salvation regime was neither willing nor prepared to resolve emerging or potential conflicts. Instead, it exploited and fueled these problems to the maximum extent to secure its grip on power.
Perhaps the lack of development, or its scarcity, was one of the main justifications for political voices demanding their rights—a legitimate political claim. However, when this discourse became entangled with the regime’s desire for greater control, it exacerbated tensions and inflamed disputes. Political rhetoric devolved into unrestricted exchanges of collective insults, especially during the ongoing war, which now risks becoming a state of “all against all” with no end in sight.
