This piece constitutes reflections for the SPLM and the future of South Sudan.
History has taught us that once the guns of liberation movements go silent, they often face a more insidious enemy than foreign aggressors: themselves. At first, liberation movements are celebrated as champions of freedom, but when they achieve their liberation goals, they usually undergo a rapid change, becoming prisoners of power. Premised on the above syndrome of liberation movements, the Sudan People’s Liberation Movement (SPLM) now finds itself at a critical stage, straddling the line between its revolutionary past and a present marked by moral confusion.
It is known that the SPLM was strongly committed to the war of liberation and emerged victorious from this legitimate struggle for dignity, identity, and independence. However, it has quickly deviated from this enormous feat, not realizing that revolutionary legitimacy is not everlasting. The notion carried around by some figures in the SPLM that past sacrifices confer a permanent right to power is but a symptom suggestive of potential oppression. We have already witnessed this as a typical example of the promotion of a perilous political culture in which leadership becomes a matter of inheritance rather than service.
We have seen military ranks inherited; we have also seen political seats being given based on family lineage upon the retirement of parents. The SPLM senior cadres, some of whom are now being sent home, are not cognizant of the fact that past struggles do not justify future impunity; whatever power or leadership they want to pass on to their descendants must be earned through performance, humility, and ethical leadership.
The unsuspecting citizens who sacrificed their lives, gave their support, manpower, food, and bulls to the SPLM to achieve the liberation cause have now realized that what began as a creed of liberation has progressively devolved into a bureaucratic stronghold of stagnation, shamelessly insulating those in power from accountability.
Nobody can deny the integral values of the SPLM because this same SPLM once united people across South Sudan with a cohesive national vision. Today, it communicates in a disjointed manner, completely engulfed by the narratives of ethnic alliances, patronage networks, and revenge politics. Its actions alone attest to the truth that it has lost its moral compass. The very youth it took to the bush as the Red Army (Jesh-Amer), whom it professed to mentor—those who ascended through the ranks with discipline and a revolutionary spirit—now find themselves marginalized. There are many cases of this kind; however, the marginalization of Dr. Akol Paul Kordit is the most noticeable. He once rose meteorically but fell drastically due to the fact that he exhibited extreme competency in multiple spheres.
What was the purpose of nurturing a younger generation in the SPLM if they are now being sidelined and replaced with individuals who lack sufficient political grounding, devoid of knowledge of the movement’s doctrine—anchored in clear ideology, vision, mission, internal democracy, national unity, adherence to the rule of law and constitutionality, people-centered policies, women’s empowerment, ethical, accountable, and transparent leadership, or historical memory? The youth, who were molded by these principles and who advanced through the ranks with sacrifice rather than favoritism, have been pushed to the margins. In their place are those chosen not for their ideology or competence but for convenience, proximity, or submission. This betrayal surpasses personal betrayal; it is profoundly institutional.
Even with the Arusha reunification agreement intended to heal and rebuild the party, the SPLM fractured even further. The movement that once inspired unity now consists of competing factions such as the SPLM-DC, SPLM-IO, SPLM-FDs, Real-SPLM, NAS, SSUF-P, NDM, NDM-PF, and SSUF/A, along with numerous other political offshoots, each pulling in a different direction and each carrying a piece of a shattered dream. In such moments, one cannot help but wonder: Do the revolutionaries still remember their origins? Do they reflect on the blood that was spilled, the hunger that was endured, and the brothers and sisters laid to rest in shallow graves for the sake of their dream?
Was this the South Sudan they had envisioned?
Does the current state of the Republic of South Sudan, established on the foundation built with the blood of martyrs but utterly immersed in corruption, hindered by mistrust, and fractured by ethnic divisions, truly honor the memory of the martyrs who sacrificed their lives for liberation? Or has it devolved into a distortion of the SPLM’s newfound ideals?
The disappointment caused by this generative projection has not remained confined to internal discussions. The named factions and others did not arise from ideological innovation; they emerged from discontent, exclusion, and unresolved power struggles.
Instead of one or two robust parties that could anchor the country in a state of development, we are now left with fragmented groups vying for influence and dragging South Sudan in various conflicting directions. This situation reflects not political maturity but a form of national disintegration.
We are aware of the fact that most liberation movements tend to enter survival mode once they attain power. They grow fearful of change while losing sight of their original purpose as agents of change. They view critics as enemies and delay necessary reforms until it is too late. In the case of the SPLM, this fear of internal correction has transformed comrades into conspirators who view reform as betrayal instead of perceiving it as a vital requirement for maintaining revolutionary relevance.
Blinded by newfound access to power and resources, elites enrich themselves while advocating austerity for the poor. This act has now made citizens view the SPLM not as a vehicle of change that once stood firm in the face of adversity; it now resembles a corporation, managed by a few to achieve the goal of self-enrichment for its major shareholders.
It has become obvious that access to resources has supplanted access to justice, good education, health services, and even simple livelihoods. Contracts and financial gains are prioritized over comradeship, and the economic struggles of the citizens have become a muted backdrop to the luxury enjoyed by a select few. The liberators must take note of my point, or take it with keen interest, that our liberation cause can never be deemed complete if it has resulted in the economic and political colonization of our own people, as we are now witnessing.
Even after running down the country, several liberation cadres refuse to let go. They have no plans to curb corruption. They desire to punish those who speak about it or against it. They imprison those perceived or suspected of wanting to create change and celebrate the corrupt. Some liberation leaders mistake continuity for clinging. What they do not know is that when they neglect to nurture new leadership or silence emerging voices, they cultivate decay. The SPLM has experienced this scenario repeatedly; it suppresses its strong cadres and elevates the deadwood, not because their strong cadres have done anything wrong, but because they are either young or different.
They think that their legacy will be insulted by the good deeds of those coming after them; they do not look at it positively—that whatever the newcomers do right is attributable to them. I have seen decay taking multiple forms, and I can now tell the SPLM leaders that any revolution that fails to regenerate will inevitably degenerate.
If the SPLM is to redeem itself, it must prioritize moral clarity over mere party reorganization. Change is not about removing H.E. James Wani Igga, Hon. Daniel Awet Akot, or Gen. Kuol Manyang and replacing them with those who would obviously be weaker versions of their true selves. Embracing generational transition without fear is essential, but it should have been grounded in merit. It is clear now that the party will fail to restore its ideological discipline since nobody would place it above ethnic or friendship loyalty. Many were expecting that it would recenter its focus on service delivery rather than access to power.
We have seen the SPLM leadership on many occasions threatening the citizens and its loyal members, forgetting that political parties are fueled to success by their convinced memberships.
On the path of redemption, the SPLM must openly acknowledge its failures, not just in private discussions, but in a loud, courageous, and public manner, because the people deserve honesty, not mere chants of invisible performance.
The SPLM’s new leadership, if not changed by President Salva Kiir Mayardit (because some elements there have already shown incompetence), should take note that South Sudanese youth today are enlightened; they seek more than just slogans—they require genuine sincerity from their leaders. They need guidance from those who focus less on “where we came from” and more on “where we must go.”
They deserve a party that embraces the future rather than clings to the past. The revolution must evolve, or it will inexorably fade away.
Till then, yours truly, Mr. Teetotaler!
The writer, Dr. Sunday de John, holds MBA and Bachelor of Medicine and Bachelor of Surgery (MBChB) from the University of Nairobi, Faculty of Business and Management Sciences and Faculty of Medicine respectively. He is the current Chairman of the South Sudan United Front-Progressive and can be reached via drsundayalong4@gmail.com
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