The war in Darfur is one of the defining conflicts of this decade in Africa. It has raised profound challenges for domestic, regional and international actors: how best to respond to serious international crimes and to bring about peace? Mahmood Mamdani, following his widely discussed analysis of the Rwanda conflict, tackles key issues surrounding Darfur in Saviors and Survivors and adds his voice to those highly critical of international modes of intervention, be it in form of the “Responsibility to Protect” or the International Criminal Court (ICC).

I am someone who is at risk of being labelled a human rights fundamentalist by Mamdani, having worked for several years to further human rights protection, justice and accountability in Sudan. Reading Saviors and Survivors was always going to be a challenge, and a welcome one for that. I was ready to have assumptions questioned with a view to opening new perspectives, both to gain a better understanding of the complex Darfur conflict and to reconsider the adequacy of policy responses to date. The book largely succeeds on the first count, but disappoints on the second.

Mamdani takes a valid historical approach to the Darfur conflict, locating its roots in colonial policies of forming tribal identities, cold war rivalries and environmental degradation. Part II of the book (“Darfur in context”) provides a detailed account of Darfur's socio-political history, colonial policies and Sudanese post-independence politics. The latter include the (failed) attempts at nation-building based on different visions, namely Arabism, Sudanism and Islamism.

The crisis in Darfur is viewed primarily as a local conflict between ethnic groups over resources (ie access to land). Mamdani sees the accounts of “Arabs” fighting “African” tribes as misrepresentations that reflect colonial mindsets and historiographies. The Save Darfur coalition is singled out for its moralistic and simplistic advocacy. Mamdani argues (in part I: “The Save Darfur movement and the global war on terror”) that it distracted from the Iraq war, fed on anti-Arab sentiment in the context of the war on terror and served a broader interventionist agenda. As an alternative, he proposes a policy that focuses on a political process driven by local actors and the African Union (AU). Part III of the book (“Rethinking the Darfur crisis”) sets out his view that this is more likely to do justice to the local aspects of the conflict and would centre on reconciliation instead of individual punishment.

Mamdani's account is a salutary reminder of the importance of history and politics in the understanding of conflicts, particularly in respect of colonial roots and overtones in “western” responses. However, the analysis of the current Darfur conflict is based on significant omissions and sweeping claims, and the policy arguments derived from it are flawed. The resulting, highly selective, interpretation appears to be the very method used to assert a particular worldview, coming at the expense of a more nuanced analysis that also includes showing empathy for those suffering from the current situation (see part III in particular).

The book neither clearly identifies the nature of violations nor attributes responsibility for international crimes committed in Darfur. The roles of the rebel movements and different groups in the conflict are described in some detail. In contrast, the government of Sudan (GoS) only appears as one actor among many that happen to employ local militias for counterinsurgency purposes. There is no full appreciation, either factual or legal, of the concerted campaign of violence in 2003 and 2004 and the systematic, large-scale violations and their consequences (mass killings, rape, forced displacement and appropriation of land and property). Violations are referred to as massacres or mass deaths. These terms obscure agency and mask the underlying policy. There is no mention of the systematic use of rape, and the racist remarks accompanying it, which point to its use as a weapon of war and “ethnic cleansing”. Instead, there is a laconic referenceFootnote ¹ to a statement made by a US official in 2007 that rape has been committed by all sides. Violations committed after 2004 are downplayed, based on lower casualty figures; this ignores the insecurity, lack of protection and serious violations that have been prevailing in Darfur in various degrees of intensity over the last six years.

The determination of genocide has been at the centre of debates surrounding the Darfur conflict and adequate policy responses. There are two sides to the genocide argument. First, the political (ab)use of the term. The heightened sense of urgency it conveys may be employed to lend legitimacy to interventions. As Mamdani rightly highlights, using the label genocide for political purposes can easily disguise hidden agendas. This insight serves as a useful note of caution to be aware of the politics of genocide labelling. Indeed, the utility of pursuing an advocacy strategy around the term genocide has been discussed within the human rights movement. Paradoxically, the increasingly rhetorical debate as to whether the violations committed in Darfur constitute genocide or not has arguably distracted from the reality of the serious nature of crimes. Labelling human rights groups “fundamentalist” in this context does not adequately reflect, analyse and appreciate, critically and constructively, the many facets of human rights work and advocacy on and in Darfur.

The second side of the argument is the legal assessment of the crimes committed. Mamdani's primary criterion appears to be the number of persons killed. There is a lengthy account of the accurate death toll in Darfur. This serves the ostensible goal of showing that numbers were exaggerated for political purposes and that the determination of the situation as genocide is factually wrong. The question of the number of victims as a prerequisite for a finding of genocide is controversial and not fully settled in jurisprudence. Numbers matter but certainly not as much as made out in the book. The crucial element in the Darfur case is the intent to destroy a protected group, or parts of it. Such a group can be defined by its innate characteristics but also through self-identification and the perception of others.Footnote ² It is clear that the “Arab” and “African” divide that Mamdani dismisses as a false construction, based on colonial legacies, has to some degree become a political reality on the ground. This is evidenced in accounts of Janjaweed militias calling Fur or Masalit victims of rape and killings “slaves” or “blacks”, terms that carry clear racial connotations in Sudan. In addition, there is little mention of the racist overtones of the “Arab Islamist” policy of the current government, which has been analysed in recent literature.Footnote ³ This policy seemingly both informed, and manifested itself in, the Darfur conflict.

These facts do not necessarily prove that the violations committed in Darfur constitute genocide for which President al Bashir is individually responsible. Indeed, the International Commission of Inquiry on Darfur and the ICC's first pre-trial chamber initially found that they did not (the latter's decision was reversed on appeal). What the debates triggered by these findings demonstrate is the high threshold for a finding of genocide and the difficulty of the legal assessment to be made. Mamdani's approach of glossing over the legal complexities in order to make an essentially political argument that corresponds to his portrayal of the conflict appears to be the very flipside of what he accuses the Save Darfur coalition and others of doing.

The Responsibility to Protect doctrine (RtP) postulates the “international community's” commitment to respond to international crimes through the UN Security Council where “national authorities manifestly fail to protect their populations”.Footnote ⁴ Mamdani raises important concerns about RtP's dark side. The language of seemingly self-justifying humanitarianism may open the door to myriad forms of intervention against weaker states. The term protection may also create or reinforce unequal power relationships of “saviours” and “victims”, in which the latter are denied agency.Footnote ⁵ However, the attempt to apply this critique to Darfur is unconvincing. The claimFootnote ⁶ that “humanitarianism heralds a system of trusteeship” is backed up by a footnote that refers to UN Security Council resolutions 1590 and 1591 as having “the effect of placing Sudan under foreign trusteeship”. Resolution 1590 concerns the UN mission in Sudan, which is mandated to oversee the implementation of the Comprehensive Peace Agreement and operates with the GoS's consent. Resolution 1591 imposes targeted sanctions. How these measures amount to foreign trusteeship remains a mystery.

An alternative reading of RtP may be closer to current realities. Rather than constituting an unbridled licence to intervene militarily, it defines the outer limits of sovereignty where the state concerned denies the very rights that Mamdani identifies as a prerequisite for citizenship. Even then, any action would have to be taken by the UN Security Council, which in practice further limits the doctrine's application. It does not, as the book seems to suggest, authorize unilateral interventions. The reference to Iraq made in this context seems misplaced as its proponents largely justified the intervention on other grounds. The RtP doctrine certainly deserves a more nuanced appreciation as is evident in wide ranging policy and academic debates on the subject.Footnote ⁷

The book presents a one-dimensional account of the justice versus peace debate, framed as the opposition between victors' justice and survivors' justice. The latter is said to exemplify an alleged African preference for reconciliation as a successful means of resolving conflicts. This assertion ignores ongoing debates and several surveys that have been undertaken, such as in Uganda, which show that the views of local populations are often deeply divided.Footnote ⁸ Many victims of violations and others concerned do not want peace at the expense of accountability and justice. Indeed, criminal accountability mechanisms have been adopted in some African countries, such as Sierra Leone.

Saviors and Survivors fails to give due weight to the rights of survivors and their agency. It would be interesting to know what survivors make of the sweeping claims expressed in their name. An important systemic question left unanswered is whether and how reconciliation that turns a blind eye to a history of impunity may perpetuate violence. While conflicts have multiple causes, accountability for serious crimes is one of the means by which a society can articulate absolute limits to the use of power. The history of Sudan provides ample evidence to suggest that broad powers coupled with virtual impunity, which includes the failure of the Darfur Special Courts established in response to the ICC referral, have been an integral part of the exercise of power, conflict and serious violations.

Mamdani's analysis of the role of international powers raises important concerns about the supposed new order. However, the connection to the “war on terror” remains vague. Yes, there may be a greater willingness to demonize “Arabs”. However, the book does not mention that the GoS has equally used the reverse rhetoric of jihad and fighting the infidels in the Darfur context. The statement in the bookFootnote ⁹ that the Darfur conflict was fuelled by the “war on terror” and constituted “Bashir's own little war on terror” does not link it to similar patterns of violations in Sudan throughout the 1990s (although these violations are highlighted in a different context).Footnote ¹⁰ In so doing, the book ignores the very political context that Mamdani is keen to emphasize as key to understanding local conflicts. There is no mention of the apparent intelligence cooperation between the United States and the GoS in the “war on terror”. This might be one of the factors explaining the apparent paradox that there has been little appetite to take any military action in spite of “interventionist” rhetoric. It would have been interesting to analyse whether the latter is a genuine reflection of interventionist ambitions or a smokescreen to placate public opinion.

Mamdani is scathing in his critique of the ICC and its prosecutor, in line with a wider backlash against international criminal justice. Undoubtedly, the ICC has performed rather poorly in several instances, such as in the handling of the Uganda situation. It is now widely acknowledged that the ICC needs to change its approach. This includes prosecuting individuals who are nationals of powerful states or their allies where it has jurisdiction and sufficient evidence is available. However, Mamdani's book neither captures these bigger debates nor does it account for regional developments, such as the Pact on Security, Stability and Development in the Great Lakes Region to which Sudan is a party. The latter affirms accountability for international crimes as an important and widely recognized principle that sets limits for what constitutes acceptable conduct. True, the application and politics of criminal accountability are frequently selective and contradictory if not hypocritical altogether. But it seems preferable to make the principle more consistent and effective at local, regional and international levels rather than to throw the baby out with the bathwater.

The book claimsFootnote ¹¹ that accountability of the perpetrators responsible for international crimes in Darfur “is a political decision that cannot belong to the ICC prosecutor”. One wonders whose political decision is referred to, even though all efforts to this end have failed to date?Footnote ¹² And, in the same breath: “[m]ore than innocence or guilt of the president of Sudan, it is the relationship between law and politics – including the politicisation of the ICC – that poses a wider issue, one of greatest concern to African governments and peoples”. One is tempted to think that many people in Sudan and elsewhere might be more concerned about the repressive (and frequently not democratically legitimated) governments under which they have to live and the denial of “citizenship” that this entails.

Mamdani seeks to prove the priority or even exclusive validity of local or regional political processes. He puts a remarkable degree of faith in what are often elitist and top down peace agreements and political processes, ignoring both democratic legitimacy and agency. This opens a dangerous trap of serving as an apology for the status quo.

The book's critical examination of simplistic accounts of the Darfur conflict must be welcome. However, its sweeping assertions obscure the fact that many of the issues are more complex and that there have been multiple manipulations and failures on several if not all sides. Mamdani's solution to the Darfur conflict is sound: “a regionally negotiated peace, reform of power in the nation-state of Sudan, and reform of land and governance systems within Darfur”.Footnote ¹³ But the crucial question remains: how are a lasting peace and a reform of power possible without acknowledging violations, the rights of survivors and the need for the rule of law, justice and accountability as an integral part of the solution?

The book's gaping silence is the story not told: of victims, survivors and their communities; of those who fight against marginalization and for “democratic transformation”, including human rights and accountability, in Sudan. It is the story of those who bear witness and whose recognition is key to peace. Any solution that ignores these voices and experiences is bound to be a deadly peace that contains the seeds for the cycles of violence and violations to continue.