Why Sudan’s SAF suddenly embraced the Trump–Saudi ceasefire plan

SAF chief Abdel Fattah al-Burhan and his Islamist allies have thrown their weight behind a Trump–Mohammed bin Salman initiative to halt Sudan’s war, in what officials and analysts say is less a late conversion to peace than a calculated response to three converging crises.

On 19 November, at the U.S.–Saudi Investment Forum in Washington, U.S. President Donald Trump told an audience that included Saudi Crown Prince Mohammed bin Salman in the front row that his administration would now move to directly try to end the war in Sudan. He called the conflict a “tremendous humanitarian crisis” and openly admitted it “was not on my charts” until the crown prince personally pressed him to act.

Behind Port Sudan’s sudden about-face, Sudanese and regional political sources point to three simultaneous “earthquakes” that have upended the military junta’s calculations: a battlefield collapse in Darfur, a geopolitical shock from Trump’s return to the White House with a deal-making and score-settling agenda, and a near-total fiscal breakdown that has left Saudi support as almost the only financial lifeline.

Taken together, these shifts have pushed the Sudanese Armed Forces (SAF) and their Islamist backers to embrace a U.S.–Saudi plan they once treated with suspicion, while hoping to bend it to their survival.

Sudan as an “attached item” in a bigger U.S.–Saudi deal

Diplomats say Sudan’s sudden prominence in Washington cannot be understood from Port Sudan or Darfur alone. It is a by-product of a broader effort to rewrite the U.S.–Saudi strategic partnership.

Mohammed bin Salman’s November visit to Washington capped months of bargaining over a package that includes:

  • Saudi investment commitments in the United States reportedly reaching up to $1 trillion, focused on artificial intelligence, data centres, industrial projects and capital markets.
  • Major defence contracts, including F-35 fighter jets and other advanced systems.
  • Civil nuclear cooperation and high-end technology and AI partnerships meant to anchor Saudi Arabia as a regional technology hub.

Within that larger framework, the crown prince put Sudan squarely on the agenda. For Riyadh, officials say, Sudan is a hard security file, not a humanitarian charity case: long stretches of Sudanese Red Sea coastline face flagship Saudi projects such as NEOM and the kingdom’s Red Sea tourism corridor. A failed state or entrenched militias on the opposite shore are seen as unacceptable.

Saudi investment on this scale gives Riyadh significant leverage over White House choices, diplomats say. A new U.S.–Saudi security architecture for the Red Sea and Gulf would also depend on a reasonably stable Sudanese coastline, while deepening nuclear and tech cooperation raises Saudi Arabia’s profile as a manager or broker of nearby crises – including Sudan.

Trump’s “big deal” mindset and Sudan’s upgrade in Washington

Trump has long prized high-visibility “peace deals” that can be marketed as personal achievements, even talking in the past about Nobel Prize aspirations. Sudan, in this reading, fits his template: a horrifying but still “manageable” war where regional partners can shoulder much of the burden, compared with more complex theatres such as Ukraine or Gaza.

His candid remark that Sudan “was not on my charts” underscores another reality: Washington is now acting in Sudan largely with Saudi priorities, framing and urgency – but under an American presidential seal. For Burhan and his circle, that marks a qualitative shift. Sudan is no longer just a mid-level State Department file; it has acquired direct presidential weight, tied to Trump’s personal pride and his broader bargain with Riyadh.

The military earthquake: fall of El-Fashir

Port Sudan’s political reversal is rooted in a military disaster. In late October, after an 18-month siege, the city of El-Fashir – historic capital of Darfur and headquarters of the 6th Infantry Division – fell to the Rapid Support Forces (RSF).

The loss shattered the SAF’s attrition-based doctrine and carried several strategic consequences:

  • El-Fashir was the last major symbol of “state sovereignty” in Darfur. Its fall effectively handed the RSF control over the region’s five states and allowed the Sudanese force to claim real authority over nearly half of Sudan’s territory.
  • The city had served as a cork in the logistics bottleneck linking Sudan’s western borders with Chad and Libya to its centre. With El-Fashir in RSF hands, long-range supply routes opened up, enabling the group to sustain its war effort in Kordofan and White Nile more effectively.
  • RSF units freed from the siege began moving east along an arc of towns that places Kordofan between two jaws, threatening to cut off White Nile and Northern states and increasing anxiety in cities such as El-Obeid and Kosti.

Rights investigators, including Yale University’s Humanitarian Research Lab, supported by satellite imagery, have documented mass killings, summary executions and targeted atrocities by RSF units in and around El-Fashir after the takeover, adding to earlier warnings of ethnic cleansing in Darfur.

These reports triggered shock and fear among communities in northern and central Sudan that traditionally support the SAF. The SAF’s failure to break the siege, despite repeated promises and airdrops, deepened a collapse in confidence among civilians and front-line soldiers in the high command’s ability to deliver.

Against that backdrop, a ceasefire stopped being just a “Western demand” and started to look, in SAF-held areas, like a popular necessity to avoid El-Fashir-style catastrophes elsewhere. Aligning with Trump’s initiative offered military leaders a way to respond to domestic pressure, defuse anger and temporarily freeze a deteriorating battlefield.

Islamists bend to survive Trump’s storm

The most surprising element, analysts say, is the Sudanese Islamist movement’s embrace of a plan fronted by Trump and Mohammed bin Salman. Their warm welcome reflects a form of existential pragmatism by a current that fears it could be wiped out.

Leading figures such as Islamist secretary-general Ali Karti know that Trump is ideologically hostile to political Islam. During his first term, his team seriously explored designating the Muslim Brotherhood as a terrorist organisation.

Even before Trump’s return, the U.S. Treasury had sanctioned the al-Bara bin Malik Brigade and its commanders, as well as Karti himself, for obstructing Sudan’s democratic transition. Under the new administration, Islamists fear that targeted sanctions could escalate into a full Foreign Terrorist Organization listing of the broader movement – a move that would freeze assets worldwide, criminalise support networks and potentially expose key figures to U.S. drone strikes as “legitimate targets” under counter-terrorism doctrine.

By lining up behind the Trump–MBS plan, Islamist leaders are trying to pre-empt that scenario. The calculation, according to people familiar with their discussions, is to launder their image as a “national” force backing stability and peace rather than a radical spoiler – signalling to Washington and Riyadh that “we are part of the solution, not the enemy”.

A parallel manoeuvre has targeted the United Arab Emirates. Statements from the Sovereign Council and Islamist-aligned commentators have heaped praise on Saudi Arabia and the United States while continuing to vilify the UAE and reject its place in the diplomatic “Quad”.

The aim is to drive a wedge between Riyadh and Abu Dhabi: by embracing Saudi leadership on Sudan, Islamists hope the kingdom will either restrain Emirati support to the RSF or, at minimum, introduce frictions within the Quad that slow or dilute measures hostile to them. In Washington, members of Congress have been pressing for the RSF to be designated a terrorist organisation and demanding explanations from the UAE over alleged arms supplies. Islamists see Trump – acting through MBS – as a vehicle for applying “hard” pressure on Abu Dhabi in ways they felt President Joe Biden’s team avoided.

After more than two and a half years of grinding conflict, Islamist fighting formations such as the al-Bara bin Malik and al-Bunyan al-Marsous brigades are reportedly depleted. A three-month humanitarian truce promises time to rest, reorganise and retrain, repair supply lines and rebuild stockpiles, and re-shape propaganda narratives away from the immediate pressures of the front.

A new fixer and the 3+9 roadmap

At the centre of the Trump-era Sudan file is a new figure: Musad Boulos, the president’s adviser on Arab and African affairs and a member of his extended family circle. He embodies a distinctly personal and transactional U.S. diplomatic style, relying heavily on back-channel contacts.

Regional sources say Boulos has engaged in intensive – and often deniable – meetings, including possible encounters with Burhan in Cairo or via other intermediaries.

Unlike traditional U.S. envoys who foreground “human rights” and “democracy”, Boulos and his team largely speak the language of “stability”, “counter-terrorism” and “economic interests” – vocabulary that senior Sudanese officers find more comfortable.

According to leaks from those familiar with the talks, Burhan has pushed for concrete measures to cut off foreign support, especially from the UAE, to the RSF. In return, Boulos has urged steps to curb Iranian influence and rein in the most hardline Islamist actors in exchange for broader international recognition of the Port Sudan authorities.

The roadmap under discussion, often described as a “3+9” plan, follows a simple timetable:

  • An initial three-month humanitarian truce, involving a nationwide ceasefire, the opening of humanitarian corridors and a freeze on major military redeployments.
  • A subsequent nine-month political process of Sudanese-Sudanese talks aimed at forming a civilian transitional government.

From Port Sudan’s point of view, the trap lies in the second phase. Burhan and Islamist strategists appear to believe they can accept the three-month pause, pocket its military and political benefits, and later bog down the nine-month track in disputes over who participates, the RSF’s future status and the terms of transitional justice – hollowing out the initiative without directly confronting Trump.

Economic and humanitarian collapse as hidden driver

Behind the military and diplomatic manoeuvres lies a stark economic reality. The central government has lost more than half of its public revenues and foreign exchange sources.

Damage to pipelines and refinery shutdowns have slashed transit fees from South Sudan’s oil and halted Sudan’s own exports, eroding the state’s capacity to pay salaries, buy weapons and secure fuel. Saudi financial and in-kind support has become critical to keeping even minimal services functioning in relatively stable states.

In such conditions, rejecting a personal request from MBS would amount to financial suicide, officials and analysts say, risking a complete institutional breakdown in Port Sudan.

Meanwhile, the United Nations has described Sudan as the world’s largest humanitarian crisis. Famine-like conditions have been documented in places such as Zamzam camp, while satellite images showing mass graves and scorched villages in Darfur have intensified scrutiny.

There were mounting fears that continued obstruction of aid could push the UN Security Council toward Chapter VII measures for forced humanitarian access. By endorsing a U.S.-branded initiative built around a humanitarian truce, Port Sudan’s leaders have sought to defuse the immediate risk of coercive action while preserving at least a semblance of sovereign control over the process.

Possible outcomes: frozen partition, grand bargain or implosion

From these dynamics, three broad scenarios emerge for what Burhan’s acceptance of the Trump–MBS plan might produce.

In a baseline “frozen conflict” scenario, Trump and MBS succeed in imposing the three-month truce. The SAF uses the pause to train new units, repair air assets and construct layered defensive lines to shield eastern and northern states. The RSF consolidates administrative control over the territories it holds – Darfur, parts of Kordofan and Gezira – and rationalises its chain of command.

Even if the political process later stalls or collapses, the truce could create a de facto partition: two rival centres of power controlling different parts of Sudan with reduced high-intensity combat, echoing Libya’s dual government model.

In a more optimistic “grand bargain” scenario, Trump deploys genuinely heavy sticks against spoilers – sweeping sanctions, terrorist designations and potentially targeted strikes – while Saudi Arabia offers a “Marshall Plan”-style reconstruction package.

Under that combination of pressure and incentives, a more far-reaching settlement could include safe exits and guarantees for top commanders on both sides, the installation of a technocratic civilian government backed by Gulf states, and a long-term, phased security sector reform process to reconfigure and eventually integrate armed forces.

But such a deal would almost certainly require the marginalisation of hardline Islamist “hawks”, risking internal ruptures within the SAF camp itself.

In the worst-case “internal explosion” scenario, Burhan’s endorsement of the initiative – especially if it involves concessions to the RSF – could trigger rebellion among Islamist combat units like al-Bara bin Malik or among ideologically driven junior officers. For them, a truce might look like a betrayal of those killed in El-Fashir and other battles.

That kind of backlash could split the SAF from within, lead to political assassinations and push Sudan into an even more chaotic, multi-polar conflict that no external initiative could easily contain.

Risks and opportunities for SAF and Islamists

For Burhan and the Islamist leadership, the Trump–MBS initiative offers a series of intertwined opportunities and risks.

The three-month truce could allow the SAF to reorganise, slow the deterioration in Kordofan and ease popular anger in SAF-held areas. At the same time, it carries the danger that the RSF will entrench its control on the ground and that rank-and-file Islamist fighters will grow restless or view the pause as capitulation.

Trump’s direct role offers the prospect of international legitimacy, potential sanctions relief and a chance to further isolate the UAE. But it also exposes the Islamist movement to the threat of formal terrorist listing if the process derails, along with the risk that key political outcomes will be imposed from outside rather than negotiated.

Saudi Arabia’s central position in the deal promises financial rescue, Red Sea security guarantees and a path to keeping Port Sudan’s institutions alive. It also deepens Sudan’s policy dependence on Riyadh and risks turning the country into a bargaining chip in larger Saudi negotiations with Washington and other powers.

A survival tactic, not an awakening

For now, Burhan and the Islamist movement’s embrace of the Trump–MBS initiative in November 2025 appears driven by survival, not a moral awakening. They are hemmed in militarily by the fall of El-Fashir and cascading strategic threats; politically by Trump’s return with a record and rhetoric hostile to political Islam; economically by near-bankruptcy and reliance on Saudi cash and commodities; and diplomatically by intensifying global outrage over atrocities and looming famine.

Port Sudan’s decision-makers seem to have concluded that the era of playing international actors off against each other has ended with the arrival of Trump the bulldozer, backed by Riyadh’s deep pockets. Acceptance of the plan is, for them, a way to buy time, avoid terrorist designation and attempt to shape the next phase from inside negotiating rooms rather than having it dictated from outside.

But Sudan’s recent history suggests that “buying time” has often preceded even more violent rounds of conflict unless accompanied by enforceable guarantees and a serious regional and international mechanism that goes beyond good intentions and giant investment deals.

Whether this moment marks the beginning of the end of the war, or simply the opening of another bloody chapter, will depend on how Burhan, the Islamists, the RSF and their foreign backers manage the risks and opportunities in the months ahead.

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