When a Ugandan church leader warned Ugandan nationals living and working in South Sudan and urged them to consider leaving the country before December 2026, some reportedly dismissed his warning as a “false prophecy” from a “false prophet.”
Whether that warning ultimately proves right or wrong is not the central issue. The more important question is whether South Sudan’s current political and security environment justifies concern as the country approaches December 2026.
Regardless of its source, such a warning should not simply be ridiculed. It should instead encourage serious reflection on the country’s political reality and on the circumstances that have made such fears possible.
The shadow of December 2013
December carries a painful political and security memory in South Sudan.
In December 2013, political disagreements within the Sudan People’s Liberation Movement (SPLM) escalated into an armed confrontation, plunging the country into one of the most devastating periods in its history.
The crisis was not simply a military confrontation. It was the result of deep political tensions and disagreements over leadership, political power, the future of the SPLM, and the direction of the country.
The consequences were catastrophic: deaths, displacement, destruction of property, social fragmentation and the flight of large numbers of South Sudanese into neighboring countries.
Since then, December has carried a meaning in the collective memory of many South Sudanese that goes beyond being simply another month of the year.
It is a month associated with war, division, displacement and fear.
This raises a legitimate question:
Why was December 2026 selected as the month for national elections when the authorities responsible for the electoral process are fully aware of what December 2013 represents in South Sudan’s history?
There may be constitutional, legal, and administrative reasons for selecting the date. But in a country emerging from prolonged conflict, the timing of elections should not be considered from an administrative perspective alone.
The political and security implications of the timing also matter.
Are there warning signs that deserve attention?
The existence of current concerns does not mean that war will inevitably break out in December 2026.
But political wisdom requires leaders not to wait until a crisis erupts before addressing its causes.
South Sudan continues to face deep political divisions, and disagreements among different SPLM factions and their political and military constituencies remain unresolved to varying degrees.
The unification of the country’s security and military forces has also not been completed in a manner that provides sufficient reassurance to the population.
Some political and military figures remain detained, others are outside the country, while others remain distant from formal state institutions or operate from areas beyond the government’s full control.
In such an environment, preparations for elections become particularly sensitive.
In a stable country, elections may simply constitute normal political competition. But in a country carrying the legacy of armed conflict and political fragmentation, elections can either become an opportunity to consolidate peace or a new point of political confrontation.
When political disagreements become war
One of the most dangerous lessons of December 2013 is that political disagreement, when politicians fail to manage it peacefully, can become military conflict.
Political disagreement is not a crime.
Competition for political power is not a crime.
Disagreement within a political party is not a crime.
The danger arises when such disagreements are transformed into confrontation based on armed force.
That is when a political crisis can become a national catastrophe.
This brings us to a fundamental principle that all political leaders should remember:
If wars are politically created, then peace and stability must also be politically created.
If political decisions can push a country toward war, courageous political decisions can also bring it back toward peace.
Peace, therefore, is not the responsibility of the military alone.
It is not the responsibility of the United Nations alone.
Nor is it the responsibility of churches or civil society alone.
Peace is fundamentally a political responsibility.
The deeper problem: The struggle for power and wealth
South Sudan’s conflicts are often explained primarily through ethnic and tribal divisions.
There is no doubt that ethnic divisions have played a role in the country’s conflicts. But focusing exclusively on ethnicity can obscure deeper political and economic causes.
In many cases, the struggle has been about who governs, who controls political decision-making, who controls state institutions, and who controls national resources and wealth.
This is one of the central problems facing the SPLM.
The struggle within the movement has never remained merely an internal party matter because the SPLM has historically been the dominant political force controlling the state and its institutions.
Consequently, internal political struggles have had national consequences.
South Sudan’s problem is therefore not simply that communities or tribes fight one another.
It is also that the political system has not yet developed sufficiently strong institutions capable of managing political competition peacefully.
What do political leaders really want?
A difficult question must be asked openly:
Is the political struggle in South Sudan really about serving citizens, or is it about controlling political power and national wealth?
If the objective is to serve the people, political competition should focus on programmes, policies, development, and good governance.
But when politics becomes a means of controlling the state and its resources, it becomes a source of conflict.
Addressing the crisis therefore requires confronting difficult questions:
Who controls political power?
How is political power transferred?
How are oil revenues and national resources managed?
How is national wealth distributed?
How can the independence of state institutions be guaranteed?
How can opposition political forces operate without fear?
And how can a political leader lose power without losing his freedom—or his life?
These are not military questions.
They are political questions.
And therefore, the solution must be political.
A return to the spirit of Arusha
For years, I have called for the revival of the spirit of the 2015 SPLM Arusha Agreement, which sought to reunify the SPLM.
The Arusha process was an important attempt to address divisions within the movement through political dialogue and reconciliation rather than through armed confrontation.
Today, the need for such an approach appears even more urgent.
But reviving Arusha should not mean simply redistributing government positions among political elites.
What is needed is a genuine political dialogue that addresses the roots of the crisis.
Such a process should address internal democracy within the SPLM, reconciliation among competing leaders, mechanisms for leadership and political transition, transparent management of national wealth, security-sector reform and unification, independence of state institutions, political participation, and peaceful mechanisms for resolving political disputes.
South Sudan cannot continue managing political disagreements according to the logic that “the winner takes all.”
The country needs political coexistence, not political domination.
Fear may come before war
Perhaps the most dangerous feature of the current situation is not necessarily the outbreak of war, but the spread of fear that war may return.
When citizens lose confidence in the future, they begin taking precautionary measures.
Some foreigners may leave the country.
Ugandan workers and traders may return to Uganda.
Families may send their children and women to neighboring countries.
Traders may begin moving their goods and money.
Communities may begin relocating livestock and property to areas they consider safer.
In this way, displacement can begin before the war itself begins.
Fear creates movement.
Movement creates economic disruption.
Economic disruption creates more fear.
The country can then enter a dangerous cycle that becomes increasingly difficult to break.
South Sudan cannot afford another wave of displacement and refugee flows.
The writer, William Sunday D. Tor, is a South Sudanese political analyst, researcher, and columnist specializing in governance, public policy, democracy, migration, and anti-corruption. He has written extensively on state-building, constitutionalism, public administration, and socio-economic development in South Sudan. His commentaries advocate accountable governance, equal citizenship, the rule of law, and inclusive democratic institutions.
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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