Introduction
The collaboration between Equatorian politicians and intellectuals with the highly centralised regime in Juba is driven by more than just financial gain or moral weaknesses; it is a deliberate survival strategy for a substantial segment of the Equatorian political class. This approach is firmly rooted in the enduring psychological and political scars imposed by the 1983 regional redivision, known as Kokora. The political landscape is decisively influenced by a complex interplay of fear, historical trauma, and a strong sense of obligation to align with the centre. Many individuals rightfully assert that this alignment is essential for their personal and political survival in the face of past adversities.
To fully understand this complex dynamic, it is crucial to recognise how the ruling elite exploits the enduring legacy of the 1980s to undermine Equatorian political agency systematically. The ruling class has effectively weaponised the historical trauma of Kokora, instilling a manufactured sense of guilt among Equatorians while fostering an atmosphere of genuine fear surrounding political dissent. This manipulative tactic paralyses collective action and reinforces a narrative that unequivocally inhibits Equatorians from asserting their rights and interests within the broader national context.
It’s time for Equatorians to reclaim their political agency and challenge this oppressive status quo. To fully grasp the current political behaviours and alliances in South Sudan, especially in Equatoria, it is therefore necessary to re-examine the motivations behind these collaborations through the lens of their historical roots.
The historical ghost of 1983
In the early 1980s, Equatorian politicians, frustrated by what they perceived as Dinka dominance in the regional government in Juba, successfully lobbied Sudanese President Gaafar Nimeiry to decentralize the South into three regions. The implementation of this policy (Kokora) resulted in the mass expulsion of non-Equatorians (primarily Dinka civil servants and citizens; a lesson they have not forgotten) from Equatoria back to Bahr El Ghazal and Upper Nile. When the SPLA/M was formed shortly after, its foundational ideology explicitly condemned Kokora as a betrayal of Southern unity. Consequently, the SPLA/M cultivated a deep, institutionalized resentment toward Equatoria’s political class, framing their historical push for decentralization as an act of ethnic cleansing.
The current Juba regime actively uses the memory of Kokora as a political bludgeon against Equatorian intellectuals. Whenever Equatorian leaders advocate for constitutional devolution, federalism, or local governance, the regime’s political machinery immediately labels it as Kokora 2.0. In the current Juba regime, Equatorian politicians are subjected to a perpetual loyalty test. To avoid being branded as secessionists or tribalists intent on repeating the expulsions of 1983, many Equatorian intellectuals feel compelled to overcompensate. They collaborate with the centralized system to publicly prove their commitment to a unified national identity, effectively sacrificing their regional political demands to avoid the stigma of their predecessors.
The psychology of atonement
For some Equatorian intellectuals, particularly the older generation who lived through the 1980s, there is an internalized guilt regarding the social fractures caused by Kokora. The ruling elites exploit this by positioning submission to the centralized SPLM as the only acceptable form of atonement. By participating in the regime, even in marginal, ceremonial roles, these politicians convince themselves they are maintaining the fragile fabric of the nation, choosing quiet complicity over the risk of triggering another historic ethnic rupture.
Beyond psychological guilt, collaboration is driven by acute physical fear. The military asymmetry established after 2005 means that Equatoria is heavily occupied by state security forces. Equatorian politicians in Juba operate in a highly militarized environment where dissent is met with arbitrary arrest, disappearance, or death. The Politicians are acutely aware that if they forcefully challenge the regime, the retaliation will not just fall on them individually, but on their communities. The ongoing land grabbing, displacement, and violence by state-backed cattle herders in Equatoria serve as a constant, visible warning. Many politicians collaborate because they believe that having a seat at the table, no matter how powerless, is the only way to shield their home counties from total military annihilation or demographic replacement.
The pragmatism of defeat
In light of the ongoing and significant failures of regional mediation efforts, along with the international community’s complicity in maintaining the prevailing status quo, several intellectuals have reached a troubling conclusion: the current structural imbalance in power and resources appears to be insurmountable. These individuals, motivated by a deep-seated fear of geopolitical isolation, have come to believe that armed resistance by Equatorians stands little chance of overcoming the state’s entrenched military-economic complex.
Faced with this daunting reality, they opt for a collaborative strategy that can be seen as a form of pragmatic defeatism. This choice allows them to navigate their circumstances in a way that prioritises personal survival and the acquisition of limited state patronage. Despite their outward acceptance of this system, they are acutely aware that it operates in a fundamentally extractive and unjust manner, often prioritising the interests of a powerful elite over broader societal needs. Consequently, they must reconcile their personal ambitions with their critiques of a system that they know is fundamentally flawed.
The final resolve and the effects of decades-long punishment
For far too long, the political landscape of Equatoria has remained shackled by the aftereffects of 1983. The older generation, burdened by the trauma of Kokora and paralysed by the fear of military and demographic retaliation, chose to collaborate with the centralised Juba regime as a misguided survival tactic. This compliance was often mischaracterised as political pragmatism, yet it was nothing more than a destructive form of atonement. It served as a constant, silent apology to a ruling elite that actively weaponised the past to maintain its extractive dominance. By accepting subordinate roles and suppressing their own demands for federalism, the older generation mistakenly believed they could secure peace and safeguard their communities. Instead, this strategy led to their own subjugation. It perpetuated the inequities of the 2005 transition, deepened the marginalisation of their people, and ultimately failed to protect the region from significant displacement and land appropriation.
Atonement demands a debt, but the youth of Equatoria owes none.
The new generation must rise from the ashes of systemic failure to showcase a remarkable resilience, astute political insight, and an unapologetic stance regarding a history they did not create. They must recognise that the weaponisation of the Kokora stigma is merely a calculated political tactic, intended to keep Equatoria fractured and submissive.
The older generation’s shortcomings must not define the youth of Equatoria. Yes, because despite all odds, the younger generation has forged its own strength and refuses to carry the paralysing fears of their predecessors or be shackled by a 40-year-old narrative. The era of apologising for Equatoria’s political existence is unequivocally over. The stigma has lost its influence. It’s time to shatter the chains of destructive atonement, step boldly out of the shadows of 1983, and assertively reclaim a powerful, unapologetic voice to dismantle the current regime and forge a new, federal South Sudan.
Dr Ayine Nigo is an author and lecturer at the University of Westminster, London, United Kingdom. He can be reached via nigoayine@gmail.com.
The views expressed in ‘opinion’ articles published by Radio Tamazuj are solely those of the writer. The veracity of any claims made is the responsibility of the author, not Radio Tamazuj.
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