‘They’re not going to lose’: Sudanese activists sustain protest of military coup
Sara Elhassan has not had a good night’s sleep in 121 days.
On Oct. 25, 2021, the military in Sudan detained the country’s prime minister in a coup that continues to face backlash from the people each week. Elhassan, a Sudanese-American freelance writer and editor, has not been to the country since 2017 — a year before the Sudanese Revolution that ousted former president Omar Al-Bashir.
Elhassan has been posting daily updates on the state of the coup on Instagram and discusses news pertaining to Sudan in her podcast, “No Sir No Ma’am.” However, she feels that the work she does to raise awareness is not enough of a contribution to the people’s struggle in Sudan.
“A lot of people in the diaspora talk about this idea (that) whatever we’re doing right now is meaningless,” Elhassan told The Panther. “In the grand scheme of things, compared to the risks people are taking on the ground, what we’re doing over here on this social media stuff, it’s meaningless.”
Each week, protestors from across the country gather in “Millions Marches,” a movement of mass protests against the military takeover.
Crystal Murphy, a peace studies professor at Chapman University, spent the winter break and interterm period in Khartoum, the capital of Sudan. Murphy, who has been traveling to Sudan for years and particularly to Khartoum since 2018 to research the post-Bashir era, is moved by the spirit of the Sudanese people in face of the coup.
Roya Hassan, a feminist advocate and freelance writer based in Khartoum, works to promote feminism in Sudan through her work with the organization “Royaa for Feminist Studies,” which installs workshops across the country to educate young people on feminist issues.
“The center is focusing on building feminist knowledge (and) contributing to a network between young feminists in Sudan,” Hassan told The Panther. “(The workshops) discuss sexuality, a rethinking of state militarism — things like that — and I also facilitate discussions with grassroots feminist groups.”
In addition to her work with the organization, Hassan is also working to release a Sudanese platform introducing people to the topics of feminism, colonialism and capitalism.
According to Hassan, it was not until the revolution in 2018 that individuals could be more forthcoming about their feminist beliefs. Likewise, Elhassan recalls the state of women’s rights in her time living in the Sudan before the revolution, having spent eight years of her adult life in Khartoum.
“I think before (the revolution), particularly for women (Sudan) was a difficult place to live,” Elhassan said. “There was so much control of women’s presence in public in society.”
Things changed after the revolution, according to Hassan. Although from a legal standpoint, women’s rights have regressed since the coup, there are lasting effects of change, Hassan said.
“The revolution had opened a door for hope, and we had some spaces for freedom that we can work and mobilize without the security force targeting us,” Hassan told The Panther. “Now there is a chance.”
While Hassan tries to educate young women in Sudan on women’s rights, Murphy has been trying to raise awareness in the Chapman community of the situation on the opposite side of the globe.
“(The Sudanese) people have such a special place in my heart,” Murphy told The Panther. “I’m just racking my brains (trying) to get people to care.”
Murphy misses a sense of connectedness and political awareness that she feels is widespread in Sudan when she returns to the United States.
“The culture is an exemplar of connectedness (that) I wish Americans were better able to feel,” Murphy said.
Hassan worries about her friends who participate in the marches and are active in the resistance movement. She views her own role, however, as a documentarian, capturing this time in history through her writing.
“We have different abilities (and) different ways of revolt,” Hassan said. “I write, I collect the stories, because if something is missing, I'm afraid after (many) years, the authorities will own a new narrative.”
Elhassan “hates” that she has been away from Sudan during this time and worries about friends and family engaged in activism there. At first, she felt left out of a moment in history, but as people started dying, those feelings evolved into a desire to contribute in a meaningful way to their struggle.
“I wanted to know what it was like to live in that moment of the revolution, to be there on the streets (and) feel what it was like to speak truth to power,” Elhassan said. “(Now), it’s just intense survivor’s guilt, like I should have been there and I wasn’t.”
Elhassan is unable to return to Sudan for the present due to family obligations, but would ultimately like to return at some point, regardless of the political situation.
“If I had the opportunity, I would go back regardless of what the situation was like just because there’s a sense of duty that I carried,” Elhassan said. “I feel like I could contribute in a meaningful, impactful way if I was there, especially when I think about the possibility of building a new Sudan. This is everything that we’re working for.”