Sudan's General Burhan is a paper prime minister

Mail & Guardian

27-05-2025

Sudan's army chief, General Abdel Fattah al-Burha. Photo: Supplied
At a critical juncture marked by a devastating war and unprecedented institutional collapse, Sudanese military leader General Abdel Fattah al-Burhan unilaterally appointed a new prime minister — a move widely seen as a thinly veiled attempt to bestow civilian legitimacy upon a deeply unpopular military regime.
Yet the most pointed response did not come from the Sudanese street or revolutionary movements. Instead, it emerged from the dignified halls of the British House of Lords, where Lord Jeremy, a senior member, described the newly appointed prime minister as a 'puppet'.
This was not a casual insult but a symbolically dense diagnosis of a situation defined by absent will, hollow legitimacy, and elusive political truth.
Lord Jeremy was not engaging in diplomatic mockery nor seeking to shift power dynamics. Rather, he was laying bare the context of the appointment: a prime minister with no public support, no electoral mandate, no inclusion in any national consultation or dialogue.
This was not the result of a political settlement or a unifying national initiative — it was an imposed decree by a military leader whose legitimacy is eroding rapidly both at home and abroad. Worse still, the newly appointed 'leader' lacks a clear political programme or the background necessary to guide a country plagued by civil war, mass displacement, economic collapse and crumbling institutions.
The term 'puppet' should not be read as a personal attack but as a precise reference to the political dependency of the appointee on Burhan, and by extension, on the Islamist-military alliance attempting once more to disguise authoritarian rule behind a fragile civilian façade.
This fragile context raised concerns not only in London but also highlighted a deeper contradiction exposed by the African Union's hasty endorsement of the new government. Lord Jeremy expressed clear bewilderment at the AU's stance, questioning the ethical and political integrity of a continental body expected to represent the will of African peoples — yet one that appeared to bless a government born not of national consensus but of military fiat.
How could the AU overlook a record of systematic abuses and celebrate a government that represents no one but the ruling camp? To many observers, this position not only underscores the AU's limited independence but reveals a chronic structural bias in favour of regimes that wield de facto power, even when cloaked in the hollow garb of civilian rule.
The official British response came from Lord Collins, the minister for Africa at the foreign office, who articulated a clear yet composed position: no recognition for any government formed by the warring parties. The priorities must be stopping the fighting, delivering humanitarian aid, and resuming a genuine political process that leads to a civilian government with real popular representation.
This carefully measured stance reflects not only Britain's traditional foreign policy approach but also a growing awareness in the West of the dangers of legitimising imposed governments that serve only to extend the life of collapsing military regimes.
The message is unmistakable: legitimacy is not declared; it is earned — from the people, through political process, not military decrees.
In the end, what took place in the House of Lords cannot be dismissed as routine diplomatic commentary. It was, in essence, an early vote of no confidence in a political figure who had not even begun his tenure, yet failed to convince the international community that he possessed the independence required of national leadership.
To be branded a 'puppet' on one's first day is not merely a political or moral fall — it is an indictment of the entire political project he represents. It is a blunt reminder that what emerges from the barrel of a gun, even when dressed in civilian clothes, remains part of the crisis, not its solution.
What the Sudanese people — and increasingly, the international community — demand is not just a new government or fresh civilian faces reading scripted speeches in Port Sudan. What is urgently needed is a new legitimacy: one drawn from the suffering of the people, anchored in a unifying national vision, not brokered through military muscle or elite compromise.
What we are witnessing in Port Sudan is not a functioning political system, but a poorly staged theatrical production —r ecycling the same scenes: the stern general, the pitiful civilian front, and the tired, incoherent rhetoric. But this time, the audience is neither unaware nor silent. When the British, before the Sudanese themselves, call this 'prime minister' a puppet, it is not satire — it is the political obituary of a stillborn government.
Perhaps one day, when the history of this moment is written, it will read: the general pulled a puppet from his hat, the sycophants applauded, and the world chuckled. But the people, as always, did not laugh.
Dr Waleed Adam Madibo is a Fulbright scholar and the founder and president of the Sudan Policy Forum.