Following an extended, and sometimes spluttering, registration process and the major migration south by thousands of voters, southern Sudanese voters begin voting on 9 January on whether to split their impoverished but oil-rich section of the Sudan from the northern part of Africa’s largest nation. This poll, scheduled to take place over a week of voting, is almost certain to lead to the emergence of Africa’s newest nation by July this year, according to analysts and experts.
This potentially peaceful vote is taking place in a nation that has witnessed a half century of warfare between the predominately Muslim-Arab north and the primarily Christian/animist and darker-complexioned ethnicities of the south – as well as years of government-inspired depredations against the country’s western Darfur region, flickering insurgencies in the eastern region and occasional conflicts between modernist, more secular Muslims and their fundamentalist opponents within the Sudanese heartland. In fact, fighting seems to have been the key constant of Sudan since the country’s independence from joint Egyptian-British rule in 1956.
Verdi’s great opera, Aida, ostensibly a love story embedded in the conflict between lighter-skinned Egyptians and darker complexioned Ethiopians, in addition to its glorious marches and splendid arias, could just as easily serve as placeholder for the racial/ethnic/religious fault line that cuts right across Africa – from Sudan and on through Nigeria and the Ivory Coast. The animosities between north and south in the Sudan extend backwards into history to ancestral memories of slave trading and worse for thousands of years.
To think of the Sudan inevitably brings to mind conflict: General Kitchener’s campaign against the Mahdi’s religiously inspired revolt against the Anglo–Egyptian forces at the Battle of Obdurman (courtesy of the Maxim machine gun); Winston Churchill’s journal of that conflict, The River War; or the film, Khartoum. Or perhaps that plangent documentary about Dinka young men who fled Sudan’s conflicts only to come to grips with the confusions of life in the American South. Or, just maybe, one of those luminous coffee table books about the Dinka or Nuer cultures, or even the basketball successes of a man like Manute Bol.

Photo: A supporter of the referendum on southern independence adjusts a banner on top of a car during a rally in Juba January 5, 2011. REUTERS/Goran Tomasevic.
Like just about every other African nation, Sudan is something of a manufactured country – assembled as a result of several different historical events, and then almost cynically merged together at the height of the European “Scramble for Africa”.
Throughout the 19th century, conquest of what became northern Sudan was the imperial dream of the Khedives of Egypt, the Turko–Albanian rulers of a nominally subservient part of the Ottoman Empire and then, later, the near-colony of Britain after the building of the Suez Canal.
Towards the end of the century, Egyptian overlordship was virtually extinguished by the crusading Wahabi Islam of the Mahdi, the spiritual-military leader of a revolt against the outsiders, until combined Egyptian-British forces defeated his religious-populist rebellion. Almost simultaneously, British and French imperialist expansion nearly caused a general European war when their respective expeditionary forces almost came to blows at a flyspeck on the map called Fashoda – until the French retreat left the Sudan ever more firmly in the British sphere of control.
Just a few years earlier, in a movement from the South, as part of efforts to ward off Omani slave-trading raids based in Zanzibar (and incidentally, to wring commercial interests in the area such as huge ivory harvests in the UK’s favour as well), and also to preclude encroaching German and Belgian claims on the southern region that was then named Equatoria, Britain slowly extended its imperial control over the South from new outposts in Uganda. This expansion also played to an imperial dream of a continuous swathe of British territory in Africa from the Cape Province to Cairo. Thus the two very different halves were brought together, essentially as part of an imperial administrative rationalisation, to become the newly proclaimed Anglo-Egyptian Sudan – setting the table for today’s conundrums.
And now, after decades of warfare in the South against the central government, often led by charismatic leader John Garang, and some five years after the Comprehensive Peace Agreement was eventually negotiated under US encouragement, hundreds of thousands of Southerners have been moving southward, registering for Sunday’s poll, contemplating the possibility that they will create a new nation after fighting that claimed about two million victims since 1956. In the referendum, around 95% of Sudanese southerners are expected to vote in the south, with the remainder in the North or scattered around the world in eight or nine nations. The vote will need 60% participation to be declared valid.
That accord originally must have seemed well beyond the realm of the possible, let alone the likely, not least by virtue of rebel leader John Garang’s opposition to it. But, after his death, the separation eventually came to be seen as the logical choice. Or as the almost-certain president of the South, Salva Kiir Mayaridit, said the other day, the vote for separation “is the final part of our journey”.
Remarkably, it appears that even Sudan’s president Omar Hassan al-Bashir too has come to accept the reality that separation will take place. In a speech he gave recently in Juba, al-Bashir told his audience that while he would be “sad” if the country splits, “I am going to celebrate your decision, even if your decision is secession.” While observers say the registration process for the vote has been a bit of a shambles, the voting now seems likely to be carried off peacefully as international groups like the Carter Peace Center in Atlanta and the International Crisis Group share in the observer detail.

Photo: South Sudan's President Salva Kiir and Sudan's President Omar Hassan al-Bashir review an honor guard at the airport in Juba January 4, 2011. REUTERS/Goran Tomasevic.
Moreover, in a true Hollywood-meets-the-IT-world-meets-making-the-world-safe-for-democracy-moment, heartthrob actor George Clooney has spearheaded a coalition of NGOs and glitterati to purchase global-imaging satellite time to monitor troop movements or major efforts at voter intimidation. The resulting images will get a very careful look-see by the kind of people who can quickly sort out an army troop carrier from a Coca-Cola delivery van and then the images will be posted on http://www.satsentinel.org, so anyone who wants to can check to make sure everyone plays fair.
Of his initiative, and the role of celebrity as the new, ultimate peacemaker, Clooney says, “We are the anti-genocide paparazzi. We want them to enjoy the level of celebrity attention that I usually get. If you know your actions are going to be covered, you tend to behave much differently than when you operate in a vacuum.” The project has some $750,000 in start-up money from Not On Our Watch, a human rights organisation Clooney founded together with pals like Don Cheadle, Matt Damon, and Brad Pitt – and Clooney is convinced he will have little trouble raising a whole lot more, as needed.
But behind all this kumbaya, “give peace a chance”, there is one crucial political economy fact giving the process a push: the south has lots of oil, while the north has the export infrastructure needed to turn the oil into all those dollars, euros, renminbi and pounds. Or as Zach Vertin, the International Crisis Group’s Sudan specialist, explains, “The oil is largely in the south, and the infrastructure to export it runs through the north. So there is mutual reliance.” This helps clarify why so many internal and international forces – from oil companies to the US, from China to Arab nations – have all now lined up to support the Comprehensive Peace Agreement and the vote it is about to generate. However, Sudan has yet to achieve a firm, binding agreement on how oil revenues, or extraction and transport costs, will be apportioned between the two sides, so there are still lots of ways things can go wrong after the vote.
Watch: Infrastructure a challenge in South Sudan by Al Jazeera.
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