When former UN official Kamil Idris was sworn in as Sudan’s new prime minister this spring, he became the first person to hold the position in a permanent capacity since Abdalla Hamdok resigned in January 2022 amid ongoing political turmoil.
His appointment by Sudanese army chief Abdel Fattah al-Burhan elicited a polarised response.
Proponents viewed it as a potential turning point in Sudan’s democratic transition, citing Idris’s political independence, technocratic expertise, and established ties with international organisations. They argued that his non-partisan background would help in navigating Sudan’s complex transitional landscape.
Sceptics, meanwhile, questioned the legitimacy of an unelected leader, arguing that his appointment – as opposed to a popular mandate – could constrain his autonomy. Critics have also pointed to the persistence of military influence, suggesting that Idris might function as a civilian proxy, with his authority circumscribed.
This perspective underscores broader apprehensions about the deep involvement of the Sudanese Armed Forces (SAF) in politics – a role that contradicts the principle of a military remaining neutral in governance.
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While not all observers may recognise this dynamic, analysts, and those closely following Sudanese politics, note SAF’s entrenched influence in political life. Furthermore, during the ongoing conflict in Sudan this politicisation of the army has led to suggestions about the close connections with the Islamist-led regime which had been overthrown by the revolution of 2018/2019.
There is heightened skepticism about whether Sudan’s current transition will produce a genuinely inclusive civilian government, or if military-backed structures will continue to shape power behind the scenes, and therefore the risks of a facade of civilian rule without substantive democratisation.
Idris faces multiple challenges, chief among them the ongoing war between the Sudanese Armed Forces and the Rapid Support Forces (RSF), which has raged since April 2023, severely destabilising Sudan’s economy and social cohesion.
Forming a new government was his first hurdle. Last month, Idris unveiled plans for a non-partisan, technocratic “government of hope” – a move that swiftly drew criticism from key political factions, who accused him of sidelining major civilian coalitions that had been instrumental in resisting military rule.
Escalating tensions
Although Idris has vowed to convene an inclusive dialogue with Sudan’s political and social stakeholders, this initiative faces significant challenges, as some parties contest the legitimacy of his appointment and decry his government as unrepresentative of their interests.
Notably, the Sudanese Congress Party, the Socialist Arab Ba’ath Party, and Somood, the Civil Democratic Alliance (CDA) led by the former Prime Minister Abdalla Hamdok. The latter was a product of the fragmentation of Taqadum, a civilian coalition formed in early 2024 of specific political actors from the Forces of Freedom and Change (FFC).
Eventually, Tadadum split with two movements emerging; some FFC members joined Somood under Hamdok’s leadership while others joined the Sudan Founding Alliance (Ta’sis), championed by RSF leader Mohamed Hamdan Dagalo (Hemeti). By forming an alliance with the latter, these civilian political actors rejected the authority of the Idris-led government.
For its part, Somood has opted instead to engage directly with warring factions, circumventing the government based in Port Sudan.
Tensions had been escalating since Idris dissolved the previous caretaker government in early June. Signatories of the Juba Peace Agreement protested the move, viewing it as an erosion of their negotiated gains. The dispute revolves around an article in the Juba agreement that had guaranteed signatories a 25-percent share of executive authority throughout the transitional period established by the Constitutional agreement of August 2019.
Critics argue that the Juba deal has failed to address broader societal demands or to resolve persistent on-the-ground grievances, intensifying calls for its revision or scrapping. But ignoring its safeguards would erode trust in political settlements, destabilise the transition, and undermine national unity.
Idris’s technocratic experiment thus raises existential questions: is this a genuine democratic step, or another military facade?
Mohamed Sid Ahmed al-Jakumi, head of the Northern Track, a signatory to the Juba deal, has demanded adherence to the “quarter of power” principle, under threat of legal action. He has called for key ministries to be led by independent experts, rejecting the “monopolisation” of power by any party.
Amid this dispute, Idris advanced his cabinet formation late last month, issuing decisions to appoint Lieutenant General Hassan Daoud Kabron Kayan as defence minister and Lieutenant General Babiker Samra Mustafa Ali as interior minister. In early July, three technocratic appointments followed, with several Sudanese professors placed in charge of the agriculture, higher education and health ministries.
Among the figures were Muiz Omer Bakhit, minister of health, Ismat Gurashi Abdullah Mohamed, minister of Agriculture and Irrigation, Ahmed Mudawi Musa Mohamed, minister of Higher Education and Scientific Research. These three ministries were said to be pro-revolution.
Idris emphasised merit-based selection, but the nominations have ignited a backlash, with critics scrutinising the appointees’ allegiances and warning of militarised governance.
Significant setback
Since then, Idris has appointed another 10 ministers to his “government of hope”, filling the rural development, justice, finance, trade, and religious affairs ministries on 7 July; and the fisheries, culture, minerals, social welfare, and transport portfolios a week later.
Idris described the appointments as the result of a thorough review of national competencies and expertise. The remaining seven ministerial appointments remain pending.
But already, the ministerial appointments represent a significant setback for the transitional process. Many of the appointees were involved in the previous government.
For example, just to cite a few names, Mahassen Ali Yacoub who was the acting minister of trade and industry in the previous government that took over after the coup of 2021, is holding the same post in Idris-led government.
Also, Abdall Mohamed Daraf, who is appointed as minister of Justice, is publicly known for his political support for the previous government, raising questions about the extent of his neutrality in this sensitive position.
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This could undermine trust in the state’s commitment to meaningful reforms, while sending a deeply concerning signal to both the international community and the US-hosted process aimed at resolving the Sudanese crisis.
Rather than advancing progress, these appointments reflect is only a repetition of past mistakes and failed modalities of governance despite different forms of organisation.
Finally, Tasis finalised its charter and managed to establish a parallel “peace and unity government” on 26 July with Hemeti as the leader of the presidential council.
It has espoused a compromise pertaining to the commitment of its ally Al Hilu, the leader of one of the fragments of the Sudan People’s Liberation Movement/Army (SPLM/A-North) and a stanuch advocate of a secular Sudanese state.
Overall, Idris’s efforts have unveiled deepening fractures between civilian and military actors, among Juba signatories, and within the realm of public opinion. Sudan’s political landscape remains paralysed by entrenched polarisation, with the war economy and societal fragmentation aggravating divisions.
This deadlock, compounded by grievances and institutional distrust, risks precipitating state fragmentation unless a consensus-driven dialogue emerges among military, political and civilian forces. The enduring contest for dominance has left Sudan trapped in a cycle of instability for nearly seven decades, as political and military elites have consistently failed to resolve their protracted power struggles.
Idris’s technocratic experiment thus raises existential questions: is this a genuine democratic step, or another military facade? As fragmentation looms, Sudanese people demand action, not just hope.
The views expressed in this article belong to the author and do not necessarily reflect the editorial policy of Middle East Eye.
