From Darfur’s Gold to Congo’s Cobalt: Washington’s New Front in Africa’s Resource Wars

Dr. Abdelnasser Solum Hamed  

 

 

 

The air inside the field hospital on the outskirts of El Fasher is heavy and suffocating — a mix of diesel fumes from a faltering generator, the sharp bite of antiseptic, and the metallic tang of blood. Dr. Adam bends over a young man whose breathing comes in shallow gasps, a jagged shard of shrapnel lodged dangerously close to his lung.

 

 

“We have enough antibiotics for two more days,” he says quietly, eyes fixed on the wound.

 

Outside, the air vibrates with the low hum of drones and the distant, irregular thud of artillery. Water tanks stand nearly empty; the electricity has been gone for hours. Each operation here is not just a test of medical skill — it is a gamble against time, siege, and the slow strangulation of the city’s will to endure.

 

 

 

Thousands of kilometers away, in North Kivu’s cobalt belt, Marianne tends a small patch of maize, her eyes fixed on the rusting gates of the cobalt mine where she once worked. Now, fighters from the March 23 Movement (M23) guard the entrance, their rifles slung casually as heavy machinery rumbles inside.

 

 

“The mine is still working,” she says, “but for us, it’s closed forever.”

 

Jobs have vanished; entry requires “fees” so steep they have reduced her to subsistence farming. She knows the cobalt dug from those pits will power electric cars and smartphones worldwide — but none of that wealth will reach her.

 

 

 

Two lives, two war economies, and in Washington, one legislative debate that binds their fates together. In the U.S.

 

 

Capitol, lawmakers are pushing an amendment to the 2026 National Defense Authorization Act (NDAA) that would compel the State Department to determine whether Sudan’s Rapid Support Forces (RSF) and Congo’s M23 meet the criteria for designation as Foreign Terrorist Organizations (FTOs) under Section 219 of the Immigration and Nationality Act. This would not immediately brand them as terrorists, but would start a legal countdown toward a formal decision, requiring an assessment of their conduct, financing networks, and the geopolitical consequences of designation. If criteria are met, the designation would criminalize all support, freeze assets, block U.S.-linked transactions worldwide, and allow the prosecution of violators even outside U.S. territory.

 

 

 

The RSF’s origins trace back to the Janjaweed militias responsible for atrocities in Darfur during the early 2000s.

 

 

Officially formed in 2013, the RSF fused military strength with economic control, capturing gold mines and smuggling routes. By late 2024, Sudan’s gold exports — much of them under RSF influence — totaled roughly $1.5 billion, with UN estimates indicating that over two-thirds moved through illicit channels. According to Global Witness, as much as 32% of Sudan’s gold may ultimately pass through networks linked to the RSF before reaching global markets.

 

 

 

M23, born from the collapse of a 2012 peace deal, has transformed from a rebellion with political grievances into a disciplined force controlling and taxing cobalt-rich territories. The DRC supplies over 70% of the world’s cobalt, and research by the International Peace Information Service suggests that armed groups in the region siphon off as much as 15% of total production through “informal taxes” and protection rackets.

 

 

 

The legal precedent is clear but complex. U.S. law requires that a designated FTO be foreign, engage in terrorism, and threaten U.S. nationals or U.S. national security interests. Past African cases — Al-Shabaab in 2008 and Boko Haram in 2013 — show that designation can restrict financing and movement, but determined groups adapt through illicit trade and local taxation. RSF and M23 differ in one critical way: their funding is intertwined with global commodity markets, making them both more exposed to economic pressure and more likely to attract resistance from powerful actors with a stake in these supply chains.

 

 

Gold and cobalt are not just valuable — they are strategic. Gold is a hedge in unstable markets; cobalt is indispensable for lithium-ion batteries powering electric vehicles, smartphones, and renewable grids. This places Darfur and North Kivu on the same geopolitical map. China has entrenched itself in Congolese cobalt supply chains through long-term deals, while Russia, often via Wagner-linked networks, seeks to secure Sudanese gold to strengthen its reserves and bypass sanctions. For Washington, curbing RSF and M23 control is about safeguarding supply chains as much as it is about addressing human rights abuses.

 

 

 

In Congress, Republicans push for swift designation as a show of resolve, while Democrats caution against alienating partners like the UAE, tied to Sudan’s gold trade, and Rwanda, accused of backing M23. With the 2026 midterms approaching, political control will likely dictate whether Washington moves decisively or opts for gradual escalation through targeted sanctions and diplomatic pressure.

 

 

 

For people like Adam and Marianne, the debate is not theoretical. In El Fasher, war is measured in the hours of generator fuel left, in the remaining IV fluids, and in the minutes between shell strikes. In North Kivu, it is measured in harvests lost, wages withheld, and the knowledge that the world’s demand for cobalt keeps their oppressors in power.

 

 

Beyond the Label: Can Washington Really Break the Resource Grip?
The move to assess RSF and M23 for terrorist designation is where counterterrorism meets the mineral economy.

 

 

 

These groups destabilize their regions while embedding themselves in the very supply chains that sustain the modern world. Washington’s choice — bold action or cautious calculation — will reverberate far beyond Capitol Hill, into the operating rooms of El Fasher, the gates of North Kivu’s mines, and the boardrooms deciding where to source the minerals that shape the future.

 

 

 

This is not just a question for policymakers. The gold in wedding rings, the cobalt in electric vehicle batteries, and the metals inside smartphones all risk being touched by the violence of these conflicts. Breaking the grip of RSF and M23 would mean not only shifting the balance of war but also redefining the ethics of global consumption. The verdict will be measured not in press releases, but in whether people like Adam and Marianne see their lives restored — proof that the global market can no longer turn a blind eye to the cost of its own supply chains.

 

 

 

 

Researcher in Crisis Management & Counterterrorism