The civil war in Sudan is entering a new, unforeseen, chapter. What began in April 2023 as a clash between two military leaders has spiraled into a national tragedy now pulling in foreign actors. A new push by the United States, Egypt, Saudi Arabia and the United Arab Emirates, often referred to as “the Quad Peace Roadmap”, was supposed to stop the bloodshed. Instead, it has made clear just how divided Sudan’s warring parties have become, and how complicated the conflict is.
In September 2025, Washington added another layer of complexity by placing sanctions on influential Islamist figures supportive of the Sudanese Armed Forces (SAF). Expected as they were, the timing of such sanctions is everything: they were imposed precisely when the world was trying to make sense of Sudan's shifting alliances, especially the growing partnership with Iran.
The Quad is offering a simple idea: a three-month ceasefire to get humanitarian aid to civilians, followed by nine months of political negotiations.
The Quad – not to be confused with the Asia-Pacific grouping – is offering a simple idea: a three-month ceasefire to get humanitarian aid to civilians, followed by nine months of political negotiations to restore a civilian-led government. A key objective is to stop foreign countries from sending weapons to either side.
The Quad framed its plan as the only realistic way to prevent a deeper humanitarian disaster. The problem though lies in implementation. The Rapid Support Forces (RSF), a paramilitary group formerly operated by the Sudanese government, are anxious to regain some international credibility and have publicly welcomed the idea; the SAF strongly rejected it.
Sudan’s military leader, General Abdel Fattah al-Burhan, argues that any deal must protect the army's authority and start with dismantling the RSF altogether. Accepting a ceasefire now would, conversely, legitimise a rival faction shaping Sudan's political landscape beyond the military-Islamist alliance under al-Burhan.
Behind Burhan's refusal lies the powerful but often overlooked element of the war: the network of Islamist political movements and militias that have become central to the SAF's operations.
- The Justice and Equality Movement (JEM), which contributes fighters, funding pathways, and political influence under the leadership of Finance Minister Gebreil Ibrahim.
- The Al-Baraa Bin Malik Brigade, which brings in manpower and ideological fervour from its roots in Islamist militias during the Bashir era.
Together, these entities have allowed the SAF to sustain its combat operations on most fronts. Not only do they act as allies, they are integral to the army’s survival.
The September sanctions from Washington targeted those Islamist actors directly, which the United States accused of sending thousands of fighters to the front lines, committing abuses, and deepening Sudan's military relationship with Iran.
On paper, the sanctions freeze US-linked assets and block American dealings with these groups. But in practice, they amount to a warning to global banks and governments: doing business with Sudan's Islamist networks is becoming politically toxic.
Notably, the United States did not sanction the SAF as an institution per se; it targeted instead the forces propping it up, hoping thereby to pressure the coalition without shutting the door on future diplomacy with the army.
For Tehran, Sudan is a strategic opportunity, a Red Sea gateway and hedge against US and Gulf influence.
This created fractures within the SAF coalition. Some SAF officers, already uneasy about how much influence Islamist groups have gained, now have proof that these alliances are isolating Sudan internationally. Islamist factions, however, interpret the sanctions as confirmation that the United States opposes their vision for Sudan. That perception could push them to dig in even further.
This internal divide makes the SAF’s consideration of the Quad's peace plan even more difficult. The hardliners are wary that any compromise, especially one crafted by foreign powers, would undermine their influence. The sanctions may incidentally strengthen their argument and make Burhan less willing to accept even small concessions.
Another piece of the puzzle is Iran. Over the past two years, Iran has emerged as one of the SAF's most important military partners. Iranian drones, advisers, and infrastructure projects, some reportedly near Port Sudan, have become essential to the army's war effort. For Tehran, Sudan is a strategic opportunity, a Red Sea gateway and hedge against US and Gulf influence. For the SAF, Iran is a lifeline at a moment when other sources of support are evaporating.
Here lies the unintended consequence of US policy: in pushing Sudan's Islamist actors out of the global financial system, the SAF may lean even more heavily on Iranian assistance, weaving Sudan's war deeper into regional rivalries.
For now, the Quad ceasefire proposal is the only serious diplomatic plan on the table. But it confronts a hard reality: Sudan's war is no longer a fight between just two armed factions, it is linked to regional power struggles, ideological networks, and foreign military support. It will take more than pressure to devise a meaningful solution, one that requires the understanding of the motivations, fears, and alliances that now shape the battlefield, and the region.
