Week 1, Stage 1: Classification. Case Study: Darfur.
Please Note: The following blog post contains descriptions of violence and genocide, as well as an analysis of human behavior relating to sensitive topics including racism, intolerance, sexual violence, physical violence, death, and genocidal acts. Some images may be disturbing to readers. Please be mindful of content before continuing.
Visit Mental Health America’s site for information on mental health, getting help, and taking action.
Introduction
The following is part of a series of blog posts concerning genocide and the ten stages of genocide outlined by Gregory H. Stanton. The purpose is to not only raise awareness of the multiple genocides from the past and the present, but to provide a set of actions within realistic time constraints that you can take immediately to promote change, prevention, and tolerance. Each week covers a different stage of genocide, with a specific country or region in focus that has or is currently experiencing genocide, concluding with an analysis of how that stage is or was evident in the featured genocide, and what actions can be taken specifically to work against it.
Stage 1, classification, is the first stage of genocide. The case study is Darfur, Sudan, with genocide occurring from 2003 to the present.
I. Mariam (2020)
Her name is Mariam Ibrahim Ausher.
On the outside, she embodies the traits of a true woman warrior — her face: stoic and still; her hands: rough and calloused. Her arms are strong and her shoulders square and wide, protruding through the ornate toub that cascades down her back, encircles her chest, and drapes past her knees as morning winds push through the jagged, unforgiving Jebel Marra mountain range where she stands; her toub’s composition of deep purple, royal blue, and bright orange represents an act of defiance against the monochromatic haze of the land in front of Mariam — land already lost, lives already gone.
It’s been 13 years since a historic treaty was signed between the Sudanese government and rebel groups in Darfur, but according to Mariam and the ever-shrinking number of individuals like her, the treaty was performative at best. The killing never stopped.
Now, Mariam is a soldier for the Sudanese Liberation Army (SLA), carrying an assault rifle as she travels on foot through caves and cliffs, while on the horizon, smoldering is still visible from recent burnings.
“The rape, the killing, and the burning made my heart strong, and brave enough to be a good fighter,” she says, speaking to a journalist, the first to be allowed into the harsh terrain of the Jebel Marra mountains in the western Sudan region of Darfur in over five years. It is the final rebel stronghold left in Darfur at the time of the 2020 interview, held together only by a group of rebel fighters — the SLA — in a fight for existence, with many the sole remaining survivors of entire families after years of relentless persecution.
Surrounding the mountains are scattered remnants of villages, an all-too-familiar sight for the people of Darfur, dating back to 2003.
When asked to take up arms, Mariam never hesitated.
By 2020, years after the campaign to Save Darfur long since exited mainstream media and everyday consciousness, the promise of a return to peace in Darfur has proven as empty as the land itself.
Toward the end of her interview, once away from others and alone with the interviewer, Mariam pushes aside her assault rifle for a moment and describes the horrors of what led her to take up arms for the SLA:
Government forces attacked her village, gathered all the men, and slaughtered them all, killing hundreds within minutes.
Miriam lost two children as the same government forces rounded up every child in the village, shoved them into a hut, and burned them alive.
After witnessing her husband’s father slaughtered and her children burned, she watched as the entire village was set ablaze. Then, the women were raped brutally and repeatedly.
Mariam is the type of woman who you can sense does not shed many tears. After recounting the murder of her family and the destruction of her village, the camera shows only her backside for a moment, as she wipes tears from her eyes with the back of her hand.
II. “Emi” (2016)
Four years earlier, in 2016, Emtithal “Emi” Mahmoud stands in front of an audience at TedMed, recalling how, at ten years old, in 2003, she first “learned what the word genocide meant.”
It was in 2003 when non-Arab rebels first armed themselves in response to unresolved neglect and discrimination, which resulted in government counterattacks led by Arab militias which were, to put it lightly, brutally effective.
Emi’s voice begins to tremble as she recalls asking her mother why so many of her people were being buried that year.
“I don’t remember the words that she chose to describe genocide to her 10-year-old daughter,” she says. “But I remember the feeling. It felt completely alone as if no one could hear us. As if we were essentially invisible.”
Her story, which she recalls presenting to her high school classmates years earlier, prompted one student in her class to protest, “Why do you have to talk about this? Can’t you think about us and how it’ll make us feel?”
Who is us? And where does that position Emi?
“I’m a young African woman,” she says, “with a scarf around my head, an American accent on my tongue, and a story that makes even the most brutal of Monday mornings seem inviting.”
“Will you see me?”
III. Ahmat Mohamed Abubakar Mussa (2023)
It’s late 2023, and Sudan is knee-deep in a war between political rivalries. It is a prime opportunity for the Rapid Support Forces, who evolved from Janjaweed of the early 2000s (who carried out the murder of between 300,000 to 400,000 in the 2003–2005 genocide), to finish what was started: elimination of certain African ethnic groups, including the non-Arab Masalit of West Darfur.
The location is Geneina, the capital of West Darfur, effectively captured within less than two months by the RSF and allied Arab militias between April and June of 2023.
Since mid-June, at least 3,000 and up to 10,000 Masalit civilians were killed. At the time of this publication, dozens of mass graves continue to be uncovered in the capital, despite RSF efforts to hide the bodies. But room is running out, and the streets — once a path resembling some form of independence and self-reliance, are overflowing with bodies.
There are virtually no Masalit left in El-Geneina, and the SLA (recall Mariam in the Jebel Marra), has disappeared. The governor of West Darfur denounced publicly that the RSF had committed blatant acts of genocide. When he refused to recant this statement, the RSF and Arab militias tortured him mercilessly before executing him, along with nearly all humanitarian aid workers remaining.
The RSF blamed the Masalit.
Ahmat Mohamed Abubakar Mussa is one of them.
He’s in a nearby hospital in Chad, where he and millions of Darfuri have fled on foot, many carrying wounded babies, and on the path to camps in deplorable condition in Chad, witnessing hundreds and hundreds of bodies scattered throughout. If, at any point, RSF encounter what has been reported as “anyone black,” they are shot and killed. Women with children are raped, their possessions and money stolen, and children (especially boys) shot and left on the streets.
To make it to any place of refuge — much less as a male — is extremely rare for Masalit and other Black Africans. The genocidal pattern against them targets males first and foremost, particularly lawyers and other professionals. Children are prioritized next (especially boys) for killing, and women, if not killed, are then subjected to rape, dehumanization, and torture.
As Ahmat’s gunshot wounds are being treated with little resources available, he shares these same details, recalling how after all the men in his village were murdered, he managed to stay alive despite being shot and left for dead and hid among the bodies for days.
“The aim is to replace the Masalit ethnic group with Arab groups. They want to eliminate Black Africans. It’s terrible. It’s a crime against humanity. Not even animals can be treated the way we are being treated.”
The evidence in a video he watches makes this all too clear.
The RSF often document their crimes with great pride. In the footage Ahmat is viewing, one militia member is filming, while another proudly points to the bodies lining the streets.
“If you haven’t seen what’s happening here,” says the voice behind the camera in complete calm, “I’ll show you the work we’ve done. God is great.”
The camera is shaky, but so are Ahmat’s hands.
“We’re on the street leading to the Bank of Khartoum,” the voice continues, panning past the street with bodies lined against the sides and their belongings scattered nearby, “Look.”
The soldier being filmed is smiling with his rifle lowered, before posing in front of a building they’ve taken over.
“Look at the dogs.”
Ahmat remains still, staring through the camera, through the doctor tending to his wounds: “Not even animals…the way they treat…us.”
IV. Us and Them.
The words alone seem harmless enough, and in many contexts, they are inescapable and neutral.
They are echoed by Mariam, Emi, and Ahmat.
And in the words of a Sudanese civilian who spoke with me directly through social media, “In Sudan, it’s no longer us and them, or even us versus them. It’s us or them.”
This statement resonated with me, and it shows the evolutionary power that seemingly innocuous words can carry.
It makes sense then that it is the first stage in the ten stages of genocide outlined by Gregory Stanton.
The Ten Stages of Genocide
The “Ten Stages of Genocide” is a document developed by Gregory H. Stanton, a professor at Mary Washington University and the Vice President of the International Association of Genocide Scholars. He now leads Genocide Watch, a non-profit organization dedicated to preventing genocide and prosecuting perpetrators of mass murder.
In some ways, it can be thought of as “a formula for how a society can engage in genocide,” one that requires a large group (or usually, a state) to truly carry it out. This “formula” can be messy, though, as they do not necessarily occur in sequential order. Even more so, they more often than not occur simultaneously rather than in isolation. It starts with certain prejudices, growing increasingly more insidious over periods — even short periods — of time.
The ten stages of genocide are classification, symbolization, discrimination, dehumanization, organization, polarization, preparation, persecution, extermination, and denial.
In the stories above, almost all of these stages are present. It is undeniable that Darfur and much of war-torn Sudan has devolved once again into full-scale genocide — and the deaths of up to 10,000 Masalit civilians in less than 60 days has led multiple experts to compare the brutality to the genocide in Rwanda against the Tutsi in 1994.
With this in mind, it’s difficult to discuss any region in the throes of genocide in terms of isolated stages. Still, while there is much to discuss these other stages in Darfur (and should be), it’s also important to note, as mentioned in my previous introductory post, that it is in the earlier stages of genocide that the potential for prevention of escalation is at its highest. This in no way means it is too late for Sudan. This is especially true when, as accurately predicted by Mariam, the killing in Sudan is ceaseless, lasting decades now despite Omar al Bashir, the former head of state and military officer of Sudan responsible for the 2003 genocide, being overthrown and finally issued an arrest warrant by the International Criminal Court for war crimes.
Awareness, de-escalation, calls for a ceasefire, and immediate UN action in punishing and prosecuting war criminals is critical.
But to look at Darfur through the lens of classification, and as a case study for understanding how the stages of genocide play out in a context relevant to contemporary crisis (The situation in Sudan has been labeled the current worst humanitarian crisis in the world, with multiple warnings of worsening and further escalation), it is critical to understand what went wrong from the start, the role of classification historically and currently, and how an understanding (and misunderstanding) of classification has aided in paving the way for decades of persecution and mass murder.
Starting at Stage One: Classification
From Stanton’s original document, “The Ten Stages of Genocide”:
“Classification: All cultures have categories to distinguish people into ‘us’ and ‘them’ by ethnicity, race, religion, or nationality: German and Jew, Hutu and Tutsi. Bipolar societies that lack mixed categories, such as Rwanda and Burundi, are the most likely to have genocide.”
Historical Context
First, a brief summary for historical context:
Darfur is a region in western Sudan with a population of approximately 7 million.
Sudan has a diverse population and is divided into two main tribal groups: Arab Sudanese tribes in the north and Black African tribal groups in the west and south. While most of the population practices Islam, native African tribes also practice Christianity or traditional animist practices.
The Fur tribe, from whom Darfur gets its name, was incorporated into an Islamic-ruled Sudanese nation. After gaining independence in 1956, Sudan experienced civil wars, with Darfur being neglected and used as a military pawn in conflicts with neighboring countries.
In the following table, a breakdown of economic development expenditure highlights the regional bias that heightened tensions between 1996 and 2001.
Tensions escalated as Arab forces gained power and marginalized Darfur’s African groups. The Sudanese Liberation Army was formed and launched attacks in 2003, leading to a brutal response from the government. The government utilized militia groups, known as the Janjaweed, to terrorize and murder populations of Darfur in an ethnic cleansing campaign. Many people were forced to flee or died in refugee camps.
Between 2003 and 2004, an estimated 300,000 to 400,000 people were killed. Sudan’s head of state, Omar al Bashir, who came to power in 1989, obstructed peacekeeping forces and faced arrest warrants for crimes against humanity and genocide.
In 2019, he was overthrown and imprisoned, but military leaders associated with the genocide took control. The war in Darfur continues, with over 12,000 deaths and 6.5 million displaced.
On December 6, 2023, US Secretary of Defense Anthony Blinken publicly stated that Sudanese government forces were engaged in crimes against humanity and ethnic cleansing.
Classification, Complicated
So, this is where things stand in 2023. Notably, civilians all over Sudan have begun to realize the consequences of earlier complacency and inaction as indiscriminate killing becomes more widespread, threatening the entire country.
Still, the targeting of tribes including the Masalit, from where Ahmat fled, and where the Arab militias proudly filmed the atrocities, including rape and torture, remain the victims of relentless genocidal targeting.
In many ways, we can see in some sense the “bipolar society” that Dr. Stanton warns of in his “Ten Stages” document as being the most at risk for genocide, boiled down to simply African vs. Arab. According to Gerard Prunier, author of Darfur: The Ambiguous Genocide, “Arabs and Black Africans are not at each other’s throats because they are like cats and dogs but rather because, for the Arabs at least, they are not completely sure of what and who they are….They desperately strive for recognition of their Arab status by other Arabs, who tend to look down upon them.”
Prunier goes on to describe a “false consciousness” in which Sudanese Arabs have surrounded themselves with an illusion: the belief that native Africans have somehow accepted their place in society and that their “sacrifices” are part of a “brotherhood” despite the brewing resentments.
When I read Prunier’s detailed analysis of an Arab need to be recognized, it reminded me of Emi’s plea to her audience in 2016: “Will you see me?”
Ironically, there seems to be a commonality between the “us” and “them” of Darfur, which is the desire to be seen, recognized, and given space, both physical and non-physical. Perhaps what distinguishes classification in terms of genocidal consequences in the ten stages versus classification that is harmless and necessary, is when classification creates division by silencing, ignoring, or neglecting.
In this sense, an innate need for attention and recognition surfaces, particularly if we step back from the violence, the inhumanity, and the personal connection. If we look at society and groups of people, especially those who are marginalized but also those who may only perceive a marginalization, and we accept fully that it is an inevitability that all groups will eventually make themselves seen, no matter what, we can attend to resolving tensions and unresolved conflict earlier. I would conclude then that it is not classification itself that leads to disaster, but forced classification which leaves someone out — whether it be the “us” or “them” or, in most cases, both.
In Darfur, the Arabs themselves possessed a need to be seen as worthy of the attention of other Arab “elites,” and continued to fail in doing so, while African tribes in Darfur harbored resentment for decades before launching an attack against the Arab government that had neglected them and deprived them of their once-cherished identity.
It can be uncomfortable and even unpopular, I think, to look at a situation such as that in Sudan and not immediately jump to a view that consists of one side being just inherently evil. Evil exists, certainly, but it is bred from the sting of feeling unseen, unheard, or unappreciated in one’s skin; as humans, we cling to identity more fiercely than anything, and to find preventative strategies that work, we have to acknowledge all identities. Nothing can or will change without a change in mindset and attitude. No policy, law, or government action will make any lasting difference until serious attempts at resolving this first critical piece take place.
V. Shifting to Unity
But is it too late for Darfur? Is it too late for all of Sudan? What about other genocides? Palestine? China? Where does one begin? It seems all too much to even wrap one’s head around.
Take a breath.
The weight of the world’s conflicts does not rest solely on your shoulders. This does not admonish one from their responsibility to be informed, and act in according to their ethics and values even if in the smallest of ways. For that, I have some suggestions, both for working to heal divisions of classification that harm societies, as well as specific actions that can be taken for Sudan in a broader sense. But if you begin to feel overwhelmed, step away. Take care of yourself. At the end of the day, you matter too, and you must be seen to shed light on the experiences of others. And if all you can do is take one small, seemingly insignificant effect from the ideas below, remember that the effect of one action can and has created unexpected changes we often aren’t even aware of in the past and present, and the only thing that is guaranteed to help nothing is to do nothing.
Here are some ideas for shifting from the tensions of “us” and “them” to a more harmonious “we.”
Stage 1 (Classification) Actions:
- If you have 1 minute or less: Visit genocidewatch.org and save the website to your bookmarks. Make it visible on your bookmarks bar. Check on the website when you see it and have a few minutes to review the information and reports in it. You don’t need to go down a rabbit hole of learning the entire history of every conflict going on but try to keep yourself aware of what is happening. Genocide works best when the world is distracted and passive. Your knowledge, built up over time, starting with just one minute of adding a bookmark, could lead to a conversation, a comment, or a teachable moment to others about a divided society that is showing signs of building resentment. Let’s put as many eyes on the global stage as possible.
- If you have 5 minutes: According to Stanton’s “Ten Stages of Genocide,” the main way of preventing genocide at this early stage is to develop opportunities in society for people to work and live together who are from different ethnic, social, national, or religious backgrounds. Essentially, the solution is tolerance. One way to become more tolerant while also gaining a better global perspective and familiarity with other cultures is to explore The New York Times’ Country of the Week. Each week, you can test your knowledge of countries all over the world, and more importantly, unlearn any stereotypes or misunderstandings. I love this resource. It’s quick and informative, and if you find yourself interested, it provides plenty of reputable articles and sources to refer to about the current state of each country and its people. Why not start now and try out the quiz on Sudan now that you’ve read this article? 🙂
- If you have 30–60 minutes: One of the most unifying elements of a culture is its language. Language is incredibly powerful in building community, understanding, tolerance, and visibility. This is a commitment of 30–60 minutes a day usually, so it is no easy feat, but if you’ve been meaning to learn at least the basics of another language for a while, why not start now? Check out free resources from the Foreign Service Institute to get started.
- If you have a few hours or more: If you live in the Houston area, there is an organization called Interfaith Ministries which “brings together diverse groups for dialogue, collaboration, and service.” I admire this organization so much, and I recently discovered more of their volunteer opportunities, and if you want to make a significant impact, check out their individual or group volunteer opportunities here. If you don’t live in Houston, search your local area for volunteer opportunities or interfaith organizations that work to build tolerance and diversity. Check out Amnesty International for ways to get involved in human rights advocacy.
Action for Sudan:
- Talk about it. While researching and diving deep into the current crisis in Sudan, I decided at one point one of the most valuable resources to seek out was the people themselves. We live in a digital world that allows us to cross borders virtually where we can’t physically, and I interacted with several people in and from Sudan and asked them specifically what they need, what we can do, and what understanding we should have. Without a doubt, every person responded quickly with something I didn’t expect: “Talk about it.” Sudan has been forgotten before and it is being forgotten again. It is always last in the consciousness of others, often overshadowed by more “relatable” or non-African conflicts. Now that you know about it, talk about it. If you see an article on Genocide Watch or in the news that is informative and insightful, share it on social media. Many of those I interacted with emphasized that social media is by far the most effective route for everyday people to spread awareness, and that just talking about it provides them the hope and will to move forward as they feel seen and heard.
- Hashtags. Consider using the following, as suggested by a Sudan civilian, when referencing the crisis on social media: #eyesonsudan #keepeyesonsudan #liberatesudan. There are others as well, but these 3 appear consistently in recommendations and pleas from the people living through it right now.
- Write your representatives here, urging for and insisting on action to protect the people in Darfur and immediate emergency recognition and scrutiny on the entire region. Furthermore, UN Peacekeeping troops must send an international peacekeeping force that is armed and prepared to aggressively protect citizens. Consider writing these letters personally instead of only using the templates provided. This is usually much more effective; however, if short on time, the templates will work fine as well.
- Donate if you’re able, but remember that talking about it is the overwhelming plea coming from civilians above all else. Some of the best organizations to donate to include Doctors without Borders, Sudan Relief Fund, and Darfur Women Action Group.
VI. “Emi” (2016)
Toward the end of Emi’s presentation at TedMed in 2016, where earlier she implored audiences to see her and her people, she tells the audience that she dedicates one final poem to her cousin, Zeinab, and I think her parting words are the most fitting for the parting words of this post as well
400,000 Ways to Cry
War makes a broken marriage bed out of sorrow
You want nothing more than to disappear but your heart can’t salvage enough remnants to leave.
But joy — joy is the armor we carried across the border of our broken homelands.
So allow me to express that if I make you laugh, it’s usually on purpose.
And if I make you cry, I’ll still think you’re beautiful.
This is for my cousin Zeinab.
I read her everything that I could. And we laughed, and we loved, surrounded by family, by remnants of a people who were given as a dowry to a relentless war but still managed to make pearls of this life.
By the ones who taught me not only to laughbut to live in the face of death.
To learn more about the ongoing genocide in Sudan, visit operationbrokensilence.org.
For more information on how to take action, visit amnesty.org.
For next week, we’ll be going back several decades, and shifting focus to stage two: symbolization.
Case study: Cambodia, 1975–1979.
Until then, and always, please keep #EyesOnSudan.
Sources:
Amgad. (2023, June 23). Darfur lawyers: “Bodies scattered across El Geneina.” Dabanga Radio TV Online. https://www.dabangasudan.org/en/all-news/article/darfur-lawyers-bodies-scattered-across-el-geneina
Designation of war crimes and crimes against humanity committed in Sudan: Statement by administrator Samantha Power. U.S. Agency for International Development. (2023, December 6). https://www.usaid.gov/news-information/press-releases/dec-06-2023-designation-war-crimes-and-crimes-against-humanity-committed-sudan
Diaz, F. A. (2016). Ethnic Conflict’? Armed Conflict From An Ethnic Perspective. SSRN Electronic Journal. DOI: 10.2139/ssrn.2763388.
Genocide watch- ten stages of genocide. genocidewatch. (n.d.). https://www.genocidewatch.com/tenstages
Inside the Forgotten War in Darfur, Where the Killing Never Stopped. VICE. (2020, July 13).
Mahmoud, E. (n.d.). A Young Poet Tells the Story of Darfur. Emtithal Mahmoud: A Young Poet Tells the Story of Darfur | TED Talk. https://www.ted.com/talks/emtithal_mahmoud_a_young_poet_tells_the_story_of_darfur?language=en
Michael, M., & McNeill, R. (2023, September 22). How Arab fighters carried out a rolling ethnic massacre in Sudan. Reuters. https://www.reuters.com/article/idUSL8N3AX633/
Prunier, G. (2008). Darfur: The Ambiguous Genocide. Cornell University Press.
YouTube. (2023, December 1). Stories of Horror: Investigating a massacre in Sudan’s Darfur Region • France 24 English. YouTube. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yv23oVWYQew&t=1002s
10 Stages of Change 