Opinion| The imitation of the old Sudan: How SPLM reproduced the system it once fought

The tragedy of post-independence South Sudan is not merely the persistence of conflict or economic collapse; it is the deeper irony that the ruling Sudan People’s Liberation Movement-In Government (SPLM-IG) has gradually reproduced the very political system against which the liberation struggle was waged. What was once a revolutionary movement dedicated to dismantling marginalization, authoritarianism and ethnic domination has, in the eyes of many observers, evolved into a governing structure that mirrors the practices of the old Khartoum regimes, particularly those associated with the National Islamic Front (NIF) and its successor, the National Congress Party (NCP).

From 1983 to 2011, the SPLM/A struggle under the intellectual leadership of Dr. John Garang was not merely a war for territorial independence. It was an ideological campaign for what Garang famously called the “New Sudan.” The movement envisioned a secular, democratic and inclusive state in which citizenship — not ethnicity, religion or region — would define political belonging. Its foundational documents emphasized equality, accountability and unity among Sudan’s diverse peoples. The liberation struggle thus represented a moral rejection of the Khartoum model of governance, which had long relied on centralized authoritarianism, patronage networks and ethnic manipulation.

Yet the period following South Sudan’s independence in 2011 has revealed a disturbing reversal of these principles. Instead of transforming the revolutionary movement into a democratic political institution, the SPLM-IG gradually reproduced the same authoritarian political economy that once marginalized the South. Power has become centralized around a narrow political elite, political dissent is frequently suppressed, and state institutions increasingly serve the interests of regime survival rather than public welfare.

One of the most striking parallels with the old Sudanese regime lies in the normalization of authoritarian governance. Under the NIF/NCP system in Khartoum, power was concentrated within a small ruling circle, while political freedoms were severely restricted. A similar pattern has emerged in South Sudan. Critics argue that the SPLM-IG governs largely through decrees, constricts political space and employs the security apparatus to silence critics or marginalize opponents. The liberation movement that once condemned oppression has thus adopted mechanisms of control reminiscent of those it once resisted.

Equally troubling is the rise of systemic corruption and predatory governance. The Khartoum regimes used patronage and corruption as instruments for maintaining loyalty within the ruling coalition. In contemporary South Sudan, the political economy has evolved into what many analysts describe as a kleptocratic system, in which state resources — particularly oil revenues and foreign currency — are captured by political and military elites. Rather than serving as a vehicle for national development, the state has become an arena for competition among elites seeking access to rents and patronage.

The consequences of this system have been devastating. Despite vast oil wealth, South Sudan remains characterized by severe economic instability, chronic salary arrears and widespread dependence on humanitarian assistance. Infrastructure, education and healthcare systems remain severely underdeveloped. These failures closely resemble the neglect that Southern Sudan endured under Khartoum’s rule, ironically reproducing the very grievances that fueled the liberation war.

Another profound resemblance lies in the instrumentalization of ethnic divisions. Historically, Khartoum employed a deliberate “divide-and-rule” strategy, arming rival militias and exploiting ethnic tensions to weaken the southern resistance. In contemporary South Sudan, political power has similarly become entangled with ethnic patronage networks. Instead of building a national political identity grounded in citizenship, the governing system has often relied on ethnic loyalty and factional alliances to maintain authority.

This dynamic has contributed significantly to the violent fragmentation of the country since 2013. The civil wars of 2013 and 2016, together with ongoing conflict, have been responsible for hundreds of thousands of deaths and massive displacement. They demonstrate how ethnicized politics can transform political competition into existential conflict. The liberation movement’s promise of unity across ethnic lines has therefore been replaced by a system in which ethnicity functions as both political currency and a mechanism of control.

Equally revealing is the militarization of politics. The SPLA, now the South Sudan People’s Defense Forces (SSPDF), was once a revolutionary army expected to evolve into a professional national defense force within a democratic state. Instead, the security sector remains fragmented, politicized and deeply embedded in patronage structures. Military power continues to play a decisive role in political competition, echoing the security-dominated governance model long practiced by Khartoum.

In addition to institutional continuity, there is also a striking symbolic continuity. The old Sudan was governed largely by a narrow elite drawn from a few dominant northern tribes. Today, critics argue that South Sudan’s political system reflects a comparable concentration of power around a dominant ethnic elite. Although the ideological basis differs — Arab-Islamic identity in the old Sudan versus ethnic patronage in the new state — the structural logic remains similar: political authority is sustained through exclusivity rather than inclusive citizenship.

Perhaps the most profound transformation, however, lies in the moral betrayal of the liberation legacy. The SPLM/A once mobilized millions around a vision of justice and equality. Veterans of the liberation war sacrificed decades of struggle in pursuit of that ideal. Yet many of these veterans now express frustration that the revolution has been effectively “hijacked” by a new political class, sometimes described as the “SPLM cocktail,” whose priorities revolve around power retention rather than national transformation.

The post-independence political landscape has also witnessed the rise of a new elite, including individuals who previously aligned with the Khartoum-based political establishment or defected from rival factions. Their rapid integration into positions of influence, often at the expense of historical liberation figures, has deepened perceptions that the revolutionary ethos has been replaced by opportunistic patronage politics.

These developments suggest that South Sudan’s crisis is not merely a product of weak institutions or economic mismanagement. It reflects a deeper continuity of political culture inherited from the very system the liberation movement sought to dismantle. Instead of constructing a fundamentally new political order, the ruling elite reproduced familiar patterns of governance — centralization, patronage, coercion and division.

The ultimate consequence is that South Sudan risks becoming a mirror image of the old Sudan it once fought against. Independence changed the geography of power, but it did not fundamentally transform the logic of governance.

The unfinished task of the liberation struggle therefore remains before the nation. The question confronting South Sudan today is not simply whether peace agreements will hold or elections will be conducted. The deeper challenge is whether the country can rediscover the revolutionary principles of equality, accountability and democratic citizenship that originally inspired the struggle for freedom.

Until those ideals are restored, the painful paradox will persist: a nation liberated from the old Sudan, yet still governed by its shadow.

The writer, Juol Nhomngek Daniel, is a lawyer, politician, lecturer and member of SPLM-IO. He can be reached via email: nhomngekjuol@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.