In 1994, the world watched on in horror as Rwanda plunged into violence on a staggering scale. Today, over 30 years later, history is quietly repeating itself in Sudan. And the devastation is so immense that scars left on the landscape, the remnants of systemic slaughter, are captured clearly by satellite imagery.
While these scenes may resemble the gruesome scripts of a horror movie, they are the lived reality for the region’s ethnic minorities. In both Rwanda and Sudan, the primary weapon has not been the machete or the bullet, but the sinister weaponization of ethnic “unity.”
In both genocides, strong ethnic tension and pride led to the formation of ethnic militias to “cleanse” the country. After Hutu President Habyarimana’s assassination, the Interahamwe mobilized to carry out systematic ethnic extermination in Rwanda. Neighbor killed neighbor, and when all was said and done, Hutu extremists and allies slaughtered nearly one million people, most of whom were Tutsis. At its core, the slaughter was not collateral damage of the war, but rather a calculated ethnic extermination, with ethnic nationalism and vilification as means of justification.
Sudan’s genocide follows a parallel trajectory. In 2019, the ousting of Sudanese President Omar Al-Bashir created a power vacuum and raised questions about future leadership. Two factions emerged: the Sudanese military, led by General Abdel Fattah al-Burhan, and the Arab-Paramilitary group, the Rapid Support Forces. This political struggle quickly evolved into an ethnic matter, especially in the Darfur region. There, ethnic minorities, such as the Masalit, are framed as threats to the idealized notion of an Arab ethnostate. This framework encourages frequent atrocities such as RSF soldiers “opening direct fire on citizens.”
Much like the Interahamwe, the RSF’s actions are a nefarious attempt to use ethnonationalism to create an ethnostate, by any means necessary. In both instances, the notion of ethnic unity is weaponized as a mechanism of widespread ethnic cleansing.
But perhaps the most infamous narrative that came from the Rwandan Genocide was the lack of international intervention in a clearly defined genocide. As the situation escalated, the UN sat idly by and declared the genocide an “internal conflict.” And, devastatingly, this behavior seems to be repeating. In 2024, a UN investigation into the Sudanese situation fell short of concluding that a genocide was occurring. This is particularly puzzling, as UNICEF, the UN’s children’s agency, has fostered reports of armed men (RSF or affiliated) “raping and sexually assaulting [Masalit] children as young as one.” These recurring contradictions within the UN organization expose the paralysis that international interests impose. Under the 1948 Genocide Convention, if an event is deemed to be a genocide, the UN must intervene. By labeling the Sudanese genocide with softer terms such as an internal conflict, the UN can avoid the political nightmare that condemning the UAE-backed RSF would create.
As of this moment, it is estimated that about 400,000 people have perished. This figure represents not an abstract statistic, but an immense human loss that reflects families destroyed and entire communities shattered. Action must be swift, first getting peacekeepers into Masalit communities to protect them and subsequently reaching a conclusion to this civil war that enables genocide. The international community must intervene before this crisis worsens, as combat and food insecurity could balloon the death toll to millions. The international community must disregard entangling political agendas and prioritize humanity through intervention.
Arguably, the most vital question when evaluating a country that has perpetuated a genocide is how it reconciles with the victims and rebuilds a shattered society to one built upon unity, accountability, and justice. Traditionally, the most examined model is that of Germany post Holocaust. Their methodology is characterized by the term Vergangenheitsbewältigung (working through the past), which is characterized by openness, legal accountability, and an emphasis on the ongoing process of both formal and nonformal configurations of education for children.
German native and fourth-year UC Berkeley Ph.D candidate in the department of German Studies, Anna Lynn Dolman, recalls the lasting impact that Vergangenheitsbewältigung left. Dolman describes how she was shown “very graphic” videos of the carnage created by concentration camps, noting how “effective” imagery was for a young child to comprehend the full scale of this industrial murder. Through this, the German education system fosters an environment of moral reckoning and Erinnerungskultur (Memory Culture) that ensures genocide will never again occur on German soil.
Following the Rwandan genocide, the country took a starkly contrasting approach to that of Germany. Kagame champions a policy of “Unity and Reconciliation” — through this policy, ethnic labels have been abolished, and “Gacaca” courts, communal spaces of judgment for perpetrators, have evaluated more than 1.2 million crimes in 30 years. Rwanda has also flourished economically, with the continent’s best growth rate of 8 percent and a strong export economy. But is Rwanda truly thriving?
The short answer is no. First, the Gacaca courts are undermined by corruption, offering lesser sentences for the Hutu criminals who are willing to offer political support to Kagame, eroding the integrity of justice dispensed in the country. Additionally, those accused often had no legal counsel, while the courts largely ignored the RPF atrocities against the Hutus.
Kagame’s reign has been characterized by a variety of offenses against his opposition, such as torture or kidnapping. Furthermore, Rwanda has been identified as a nonfree state by multiple international organizations, with severe limitations on free speech and corruption of elections. Within the educational system, the topic of genocide is somewhat avoided, with an adoption of a policy more focused on passive acknowledgement rather than that of accountability and comprehension. Under the shroud of economic progress and social unity lies a reality where average Rwandan citizens have minute civil liberties and topics regarding the genocide are vigorously repressed.
So how do you heal a society that has lived through these unforgettable spectacles of violence? Using a combination of the Rwandan and German frameworks, the Sudanese future can be theorized.
Post-civil war, the most essential action is holding the RSF and other perpetrators accountable. By using gacaca-style courts, the Sudanese can ensure that citizens have a say in enacting the justice that will ultimately rebuild their country. With the provision of government oversight in these courts, the rampant corruption that eroded Rwandan courts can be avoided.
Next, education is paramount to long-term prevention of future genocide. Through the adoption of Germany’s blunt and confrontational approach, Sudan can foster an open environment where future generations understand the cataclysmic consequences of ethnic division and violence. Sudan must also integrate Rwanda’s policy of easing ethnic institutional identification; this must be done carefully, as ethnic divisions are substantially more defined within Sudan than in Rwanda. Ultimately, reconciliation must span far beyond education and justice, including addressing psychological support for victims, economic reconstruction, and the reintegration of millions of refugees.
Through all of this, the government must not be allowed to obtain obscene amounts of political power as has occurred in Rwanda. This means that there must be a degree of international intervention, even post-civil war, to guarantee a democratic and free society. Ultimately, the Sudanese project must imagine a society devoid of the culprit of countless lives in the last century, the deceptive notion of ethnic “unity.”
Featured Image Source: NBC News