Sudanese President Omar al-Bashir turned to local armed Arab groups to put down the revolt that broke out in the Darfur region of Sudan in 2003 after years of tyranny and neglect of African people. They were given the name Janjaweed and quickly rose to prominence, putting down the uprising and gaining al-Bashir’s trust and generosity.
Ten years later, when Ukrainians began to defy Moscow’s dictates, Russian President Vladimir Putin made the decision to retaliate by forcibly annexing Ukraine’s Crimean peninsula and sparking a war in the east of the nation. He ordered one of his friends, Yevgeny Prigozhin, to assemble a mercenary force to send across the border into Ukraine in order to conceal his invasion.
Putin used the Wagner force, which demonstrated impressive effectiveness, as a reliable military asset in his international endeavors.
Perhaps in their quest to consolidate their control, both al-Bashir and Putin believed that using mercenaries was a wise course of action. However, their violent creations inevitably turned on them, proving how risky it can be to play the mercenary game even for experienced tyrants.
Preventing coups to a civil war
To argue that al-Bashir’s decision to use mercenaries to put down the Darfur uprising ultimately contributed to his political downfall would not be an understatement.
The Sudanese army and the Janjaweed committed numerous war crimes against Darfuris, leading the International Criminal Court to issue an arrest warrant for al-Bashir.
The president of Sudan adopted policies that he believed would keep his rule stable because of fear of what may happen to him if he were to lose power. Al-Bashir had to be wary of his own troops after surviving a coup in 1990.
Therefore, in 2013, he made the decision to transform the Janjaweed militia into an official force. He gave it the name Rapid Support Forces and appointed Mohamed Hamdan Dagalo, also known as Hemedti, as its leader. The presidency had a direct relationship with the force.
The Janjaweed militia’s legalization and Hemedti’s promotion to the top ranks of the military were both part of a deliberate strategy to weaken the military and “coup-proof” al-Bashir’s government.
Al-Bashir granted Hemedti access to valuable gold mines in Darfur in exchange for his loyalty, allowing him to begin accumulating vast amounts of personal riches.
As its forces were dispatched to fight in Libya and Yemen, the RSF extended its international activities in the years that followed. As a result, Hemedti was able to create relationships with local leaders, establish new revenue streams, and, ironically, increase his independence from his complacent principal.
Al-Bashir’s precarious and careless juggling act between different military institutions did not keep his administration in power for very long. Thousands of people in Sudan came to the streets in December 2018 to demand his resignation.
The military elites in Sudan were no longer willing to be placated, and they began to act against the president in April 2019. Al-Bashir used to refer to Hemedti as “my protector”; when given the choice between supporting his hugely unpopular benefactor and the Sudanese military, Hemedti chose the latter.
Al-Bashir sealed not only his own fate but also the fate of the entire nation by giving the RSF authority. Power-hungry Hemedti and the military elite sabotaged the civilian protest movement’s efforts to usher the nation towards democracy in the years that followed. Tensions between the RSF and the army grew after they staged a coup against the interim civilian government, and in April, war broke out between them.
Over 800 000 people have sought safety in neighboring countries, thousands of civilians have been slain, homes have been stolen, and four million people have been forced to from their homes.
As the RSF and affiliated Arab militias assault African populations in Darfur, there are also alarming claims of genocide. Without a question, the protracted conflict is a catastrophe of epic proportions that threatens to bring down the Sudanese state.
Al-Bashir’s stupidity has now cost the entire country of Sudan.
From overseas explorations to mutiny
Putin probably did not consider that there might be comparisons and lessons to be learned between the RSF and Wagner when observing the events in Sudan in 2019 from Moscow. By that point, not only in Ukraine but also in Syria, Libya, and the Central African Republic, the Russian ruler had employed his mercenaries to wreak havoc.
The approach led to Prigozhin’s money, business empire, and hunger for power all growing tremendously, much like Hemedti’s had.
To the surprise of a sizable portion of the Moscow political class, Putin decided to invade Ukraine on a large scale. Prigozhin remained faithful to him and sent his skilled mercenaries to fight in some of the fiercest fights.
However, as the conflict did not go as expected and tensions between the commanders grew, Prigozhin began to criticize the military’s top brass, particularly Defence Minister Sergei Shoigu and Chief of the General Staff Valery Gerasimov.
The open conflict persisted for months, with the founder of Wagner accusing the army chiefs of undermining his forces and attributing combat failures to their actions. As per usual, Putin did nothing but watch this conflict escalate while attempting to distance himself from elite rivalry in order to pin any failures on it.
Putin, however, misjudged Prigozhin’s political aspirations and avarice, and his silence helped to pave the way for a devastating domestic crisis in Russia.
Wagner mercenaries mounted the most serious challenge to Putin’s 23-year rule on June 24 when they staged a brief mutiny against Russia’s top military command.
The southern city of Rostov-on-Don was quickly taken over by Wagner warriors, and a Wagner convoy made it to within 200 kilometers (124 miles) of Moscow in an effort to drive Shoigu and Gerasimov from power. The crews of several army helicopters were killed when they were shot down.
Some Rostov citizens were observed applauding the rebellious mercenaries in the meantime.
Even though Prigozhin eventually agreed to end the armed uprising after negotiating a settlement with Belarusian President Alexander Lukashenko, Putin’s painstakingly cultivated “tough guy” reputation had already been humiliatingly destroyed.
The military and security apparatuses in Russia were even more splintered when Prigozhin and his mercenaries fled the country. Senior army officials appeared to have implicitly supported or sympathized with Prigozhin.
For instance, General Sergei Surovikin, who oversaw Russia’s military operation in Ukraine, is said to have had prior knowledge of the rebellion.
Wagner’s uprising confirmed the rising resentment against upper-level decision-makers among the ranks and file as well as the broader public. And while Putin made another attempt to remain above the fray, sooner or later, it would be too difficult for him to deny that huge failures are ultimately the result of his decision-making.
Wagner’s insurrection rocked the Russian government to its very foundation, yet it did not cause a civil war to break out like it did in Sudan.
Putin was revealed by the uprising to be a weak, compromised, and indecisive leader who is unwilling to punish disobedient supporters. Five days after the uprising was put down, the Russian president met with Prigozhin and other Wagner leaders while labeling him a traitor. Prigozhin was spotted mingling with attendees on the sidelines of the Russia-Africa Summit in Saint Petersburg on July 27. He was chill and beaming.
All of this calls into question Putin’s solid grip on power ahead of the 2024 presidential elections, when he will run for another six-year term. He might eventually lose control of the military and security apparatus, similar to al-Bashir, and his supporters might turn against him.
These mercenary games ought to serve as a warning to other leaders who intend to delegate government duties to homicidal accomplices like Hemedti and Prigozhin.
Having a private militia is a surefire prescription for disaster.
