Has Sudan Fallen Off the American Radar?

The Face of Truth
Ibrahim Shglawi
Yesterday, I closely followed the speech of former U.S. President Donald Trump, who is visiting Saudi Arabia, at the Saudi-American Economic Forum. Given the transformations our region is undergoing, it was expected that he would address the Sudanese crisis, especially considering the ongoing war since April 15, 2023. Unfortunately, Sudan was absent from his remarks—neither mentioned directly nor alluded to. This omission is a clear indication of Sudan’s position on the new map Washington is drawing for the region. Either Khartoum is no longer part of the equation, or its file has been referred to undisclosed negotiating tables in other capitals where regional understandings are being forged.
Trump’s messages were clear, focusing on issues like Iran, Syria, Gaza, and relations with Turkey and Israel.
Meanwhile, Sudan—suffering a devastating war and deep division—was not even mentioned, reflecting a qualitative shift in the U.S. approach to the region. Washington no longer engages deeply in every issue but tends to delegate to its regional partners to manage matters in ways that serve its major security and economic interests without direct involvement.
The international response to the Sudanese crisis has been slow and confused. The Americans, for their part, have limited themselves to diplomatic statements expressing concern or calling for ceasefires without offering concrete initiatives. Even their role as mediators at the Jeddah platform alongside Saudi Arabia was lackluster and failed to pressure the Rapid Support Forces (RSF) and their backers into implementing the May 11, 2023 agreement.
Meanwhile, Abu Dhabi emerged as a regional power player in the Sudanese file—whether by supporting the RSF, according to the Sudanese government (which escalated to the point of severing relations and labeling the UAE an “aggressor state”) or by attempting to host secret negotiation tracks reportedly under quiet U.S. observation.
Within Sudan, the Biden administration’s stance on the war has been met with suspicion. Many believe the Democrats did not show serious commitment to addressing the crisis. Some analysts even argue that through its silence—or implicit complicity—Washington may have been involved, along with regional and international actors, in creating an environment conducive to the outbreak of war. This deep sense of political betrayal has led wide segments of Sudanese society to hope for a Republican return to power, especially under Trump, who once stated upon assuming office that he came “to end wars, not to start them.” There remains a belief that a future Trump administration may be less entangled and more open to dealing with Sudan as a state, not merely as a crisis.
This American retreat opens the door to broader shifts. Despite its internal crisis, Sudan still holds geostrategic assets that could make it a target for global competition rather than a marginal geography managed by proxy. Its strategic location along the Red Sea, near the Bab al-Mandeb Strait, grants it a key position in international maritime security. This explains renewed discussions around the agreement signed by Khartoum and Moscow in 2017 to establish a naval logistics base in Port Sudan. That agreement, frozen due to the absence of an elected government, resurfaced after the war broke out, amid reports of Russian attempts to revive it to secure a permanent foothold on the Red Sea, according to Asharq Al-Awsat.
Turkey, too, has not been absent from the scene. In 2017, Ankara signed an agreement with the Sudanese government to rehabilitate Suakin Island as part of a multi-dimensional project seen by observers as a cover for expanding Turkish military influence in the Red Sea. Although the project was frozen after the ousting of former President al-Bashir, current regional shifts could pave the way for its revival—especially amid growing Turkish-Gulf rapprochement and Ankara’s repositioning in regional politics.
If Russia and Turkey represent strategic military dimensions, then China stands as the economic powerhouse that cannot be overlooked. Beijing, Sudan’s largest trading partner, appears ready to invest heavily in infrastructure and energy within the framework of the Belt and Road Initiative. This partnership is not only an alternative to Washington but also a challenge to its hegemony—particularly in East Africa, where China is working to secure trade and supply routes through the Red Sea and the Horn of Africa.
Against this backdrop, Washington appears to be playing the role of a cautious observer. It recognizes that completely ignoring Sudan could give its strategic rivals room to expand in a critical region. Yet it is also reluctant to get directly involved in a complex crisis without assurances that its interests will be served. As such, one scenario is to keep Sudan in a state of “managed weakness” that would allow future U.S. intervention on terms more favorable to Washington, rather than in response to the aspirations of the Sudanese people.
This wait-and-see approach, as we observe in The Face of Truth, places Sudan at a crossroads. Either it remains a pawn moved at others’ discretion, or it rises as an active player capable of managing its own geopolitical position wisely—leveraging its strategic assets without falling into the traps of polarization or dependency. The solution begins at home: with the formation of a coherent political entity capable of engaging externally as a partner, not a victim. From there, it must extend outward by diversifying partnerships and building smart, balanced relationships that preserve national sovereignty and elevate Sudan’s position as a vital player in both regional and global equations.