Darfur: What the Hell is Going on There?

"If you can't explain it simply, you don't understand it well enough."

- Albert Einstein

Start with the punch line and draw them in?…nah.

Lead with a flourish, then build to a crescendo?…not quite.

Keep it simple stupid?

Somewhere amongst the endless supply of writers’ handbooks, there lies the perfect antidote for nearly every literary conundrum. Writer’s block?...just start typing. Can’t decide where to start?...work backwards from the end. Spilled water on your keyboard?...unplug your computer – then freak out. Absent from these life-saving guides is the solution to a problem that most of us encounter more often than we’d like to admit – how do we explain that which we don’t completely understand? More aptly – why should we even try?

The ongoing crisis in Darfur is a situation that is at once simply tragic and tragically complicated. Can it be explained away in one article? No. Am I the one to be doing the explaining? Probably not. Fortunately, as Einstein surmised, sometimes simplicity is a powerful common denominator. It is in that vein that I will attempt to explain to you what I have learned about Darfur – as simply as possible. Along the way I’m likely to make mistakes – please don’t hesitate to correct me. It’s not likely that you, or I, will ever fully understand the nature of this crisis – it is important that we try.

Understanding Darfur has to go deeper than a George Clooney commercial or a summer benefit concert. To truly understand, we have to address the questions that many of us quietly ask ourselves when we hear that thousands of people are dying in a far-off place. The questions might sound a little something like this: “What The Hell is Going on There?”....“Ok – So Why Should I Care?”...and…hopefully…“What Can Be Done To Help?”

Glad you asked…

What The Hell is Going on There?

Darfur is a region in the western portion of Sudan, a place that you might have heard your kids refer to as “the largest country in Africa.” Though the Nile River meanders through eastern and to a lesser extent central Sudan, Darfur and other regions in western Sudan are sans-waterfront property. As you may have surmised, living in central Africa with no local body of water is a shitty way to go through life. Vegetation is sparse, the soil is dry and arid, and your only genuine hope for a comfortable existence comes from up above – in the form of rain clouds. Unfortunately for Darfur locals, the rain clouds disbanded in the mid-1980’s and they’ve yet to return for a reunion tour. Quality of life in the region has nosedived - those with the ability to do so have migrated east. Darfur has become the wasteland of western Sudan (picture the worst place you can think of in America and multiply exponentially).


In a testament to their fortitude and perseverance, some Sudanese have continued to call Darfur home – by the millions. To segregate for the purposes of explanation, the remaining Sudanese in Darfur consist of two separate (and entirely unfriendly) groups: farmers and herders. Unfortunately, these groups find differences not only in their means of obtaining food, but also in their ethnic origins – the herders are descended from Arab ancestors while the farmers generally pay homage to black-African heritage. When famine hit due to lack of rain in the mid 1980’s, the farmers began to consume more land, cutting off traditional migration routes from the herders and leaving them uniformly pissed off.

Further adding flame to this long-standing fire is the instability of the Sudanese government itself. Mired in what appears to be an ongoing civil war with continued uprisings in the south, the government essentially turned a blind eye to Darfur in the 1990’s and into the new millennium. During the uprisings, an Arab-influenced government took power, a development that no doubt added to the lack of concern for the predominantly non-Arab Darfur.

By the early 2000’s, the uprisings against the government in southern Sudan were beginning to spread North, into areas like Darfur. Non-Arabs in Darfur, fed up with the underdevelopment and political marginalization of their homeland, began to organize into rebel groups. In February 2003, one of these rebel groups (the Darfur Liberation Front – DLF) began organized attacks against Sudanese government outposts, embarrassing the Sudanese government by exposing what appeared to be military weakness. In response to the rebel attacks in Darfur, the Sudanese government began increased efforts to arm a group of local militia-men called the Janjaweed. The Janjaweed are Arab descendants of herders and they had a bit of an axe to grind with the non-Arabs in Darfur.

What happens next depends on who is telling the story. The Sudanese government claims that a local conflict or “civil war” has erupted between different sects in the Darfur region. The government downplays the body counts and refers to the conflict as “controlled.” In contrast, the United States has gone on record to state that since 2003 there has been an ongoing genocide in Darfur. The U.S. version of the story (that many outside Sudan agree with) is that the Janjaweed have become an uncontrolled group of mercenaries who, instead of targeting members of specific rebel groups, have instead lashed out against every day citizens in Darfur – so long as they are non-Arab. The result is that an estimated 400,000 people have been killed in Darfur in less than 4 years – with in excess of 2 million being displaced from their villages and homes (which have been burned to the ground). The Janjaweed pursued the fleeing villagers to the Western border of Sudan and into Chad, where refugee camps the size of small cities have sprung up. Lack of food, water and necessities constitute the general standard of living.

Perhaps most troubling in this time of turmoil are the reports from Darfur refugees about how the attacks on their villages were carried out. The Janjaweed are largely unsophisticated in their warfare techniques – many travel via horseback and while they now have automatic weapons and some explosives (thanks to the Sudanese government), they do not make use of heavily armored military vehicles or more advanced fighting technology. Contrasting the unsophisticated weaponry of the Janjaweed are the reports of villagers who have survived the attacks in Darfur. A number of these survivors have indicated that their villages were showered with “bombs from above,” an event that suggests not only an aerial assault, but an assault carried out by the Sudanese government. The horrifying possibility is that the Sudanese military was attacking its own people in Darfur. Unfortunately, the conditions in Darfur and the inhabitability of the region have made it difficult to establish proof of these alleged air raids.


Regardless of specifics, the situation in Darfur is dire. International response has been mixed. The U.S. has termed the conflict a genocide, but has limited avenues for which to pursue relief (as well as limited interests in the region – an article for another day). The United Nations has stopped short of using the term genocide, but has stated that “crimes of war” are taking place. In the face of this damning situation, the Sudanese government has been strongly resistant to outside help – stating that any concentrated outside intervention into Darfur would be treated as an invading army.

In January 2007, the government and several of the non-Arab rebel groups signed a cease-fire – peace lasted mere weeks before another attack took place. The current approach by outside nations to the Darfur “conflict” is to send aid to the refugees in Chad and Darfur, and attempt to foster continued peace talks between the government and the rebels. The ongoing suffering in the refugee camps constitutes the only images that you MAY have seen on TV – the suffering of the dead has been mostly forgotten. As we march further into 2007, there has been no end to the tragedy in Darfur and there is an apparent international apathy (particularly in the U.S.) that the tragedy has continued.


And so the cycle comes full circle. Einstein said to keep it simple, but we have digressed into a discussion of farmers, herders, and Janjaweed. Can't we simplify this complicated situation? Can't we just call it what we intuitively see it as? Isn’t it really just conflict and suffering in a far away place that we don’t really identify with or care about? I’ll tackle that question in Part 2 of this series but for now I’ll leave you with this thought…

In December 2004, a tsunami killed in excess of 200,000 people along coastal areas of the Indian Ocean. International response was swift and powerful. Telethons, charity concerts and lemonade stands came to the aid of those in need as the rebuilding efforts began. In the months preceding and 2 years subsequent to that tsunami, in excess of 400,000 people have been killed in Darfur, yet the telethons are few and far between and the lemonade stands are non-existent. The people of Darfur have long yearned for a local water source or continued supply of rain – perhaps they should have just prayed for a tsunami.

For Next Time: Part 2 – Why Should We Care?