Sudan’s War Is Africa’s Warning: How the Muslim Brotherhood and Iran Are Weaponizing State Collapse

ANATOLIA REPORT
January 2026
by Amel Sabbath
Africa is entering a decisive moment. The continent’s vast natural resources, demographic momentum, and strategic geography give it extraordinary potential, yet these same attributes have made it a growing target for external powers and transnational movements that thrive on weak institutions, ideological radicalism, and prolonged conflict. From the Sahel to the Horn of Africa, armed groups inspired by extremist Islamist doctrines are expanding their footprint, often sustained by political Islamist networks linked to the Muslim Brotherhood and reinforced by Iranian strategic reach. Against this backdrop, Sudan’s war is not merely a domestic catastrophe. It is a frontline test of whether state collapse in Africa will be reversed—or systematically exploited. If Sudan’s crisis is not addressed at its roots, the consequences will not stop at Khartoum. They will radiate across Africa and, in time, directly affect Europe.
The prevailing international narrative portrays Sudan’s conflict as a struggle between the Sudanese Armed Forces (SAF) and the Rapid Support Forces (RSF). This framing is convenient, but dangerously incomplete. It obscures the central reality shaping the war: the deep entrenchment of the Sudanese Muslim Brotherhood within the state itself. The military regime led by General Abdel Fattah al-Burhan does not operate in ideological isolation. At its core lies an organizational force that has spent decades perfecting a strategy of state capture—by force when necessary, by institutional infiltration when possible, and by regional alliances when useful. What is unfolding in Sudan today follows a pattern seen elsewhere on the continent: institutions hollowed out from within, sovereignty transformed into a shield for militancy, and war prolonged to preserve ideological dominance.
Since the outbreak of full-scale fighting in April 2023, the Muslim Brotherhood has not merely aligned itself with the Sudanese army; it has embedded itself within its operational, intelligence, and political architecture. Networks linked to the Brotherhood mobilized thousands of former intelligence officers, Islamist cadres, and veterans of earlier jihadi campaigns to fight alongside SAF units. These forces were reorganized into ideologically motivated militias, most notably the Al-Bara ibn Malik Battalion, alongside formations such as the Shield of the Homeland and the North Shield. According to multiple documented reports, these units received weapons, funding, and logistical support through official military channels, effectively erasing the distinction between state forces and Islamist militias.
The political dimension of this strategy is equally significant. Brotherhood-aligned parties and media platforms have systematically undermined ceasefire initiatives, rejected negotiations, and delegitimized civilian alternatives. The war has been framed as an existential struggle against “foreign agents” and “enemies of Islam,” a narrative designed not only to mobilize fighters but to justify indefinite conflict. The endorsement of so-called “popular resistance” structures by al-Burhan’s command has provided the Brotherhood with a new institutional shelter following the formal dissolution of its former ruling party. War, in effect, has become the vehicle through which the organization has reinserted itself into the state under the banner of national defense.
This is not a new experiment. The Brotherhood’s current posture closely mirrors its behavior in the 1990s, when Sudan emerged as one of the world’s most permissive environments for transnational jihadist networks.
Under a Brotherhood-dominated system, Sudan hosted Osama bin Laden between 1991 and 1996, granting him safe haven, commercial opportunities, and operational freedom. During this period, al-Qaeda built extensive financial, agricultural, and training infrastructure inside Sudan, all facilitated by state protection.
The repercussions were global. Sudan was later linked to the 1995 attempted assassination of Egypt’s president in Addis Ababa, the 1998 bombings of U.S. embassies in Kenya and Tanzania, and the 2000 attack on the USS Cole. These connections led to Sudan’s designation as a state sponsor of terrorism for nearly thirty years. While ideological differences existed between the Muslim Brotherhood and al-Qaeda, they converged tactically. Sudan became a permissive space where extremist networks could operate with minimal restraint. The lesson is unmistakable: when political Islam gains control of the state, it consistently enables actors more radical and more violent than itself.
The Brotherhood’s relationship with Hamas further illustrates its role as a regional facilitator of militancy. Beginning in the early 1990s, Sudan hosted Hamas offices, personnel, and investment vehicles. Brotherhood leader Hassan al-Turabi served as a political sponsor and mediator, helping Hamas consolidate its regional standing. Over time, Hamas benefited from preferential business treatment, tax exemptions, and unrestricted capital flows through Sudanese companies and charities. After the fall of Omar al-Bashir in 2019, Sudanese authorities dismantled a network of Hamas-linked firms, seizing assets worth tens of millions of dollars. Subsequent sanctions confirmed that roughly $20 million had been transferred from Sudan-based financiers to Hamas. Sudan was not merely a financial hub; it functioned as a logistical corridor.
Despite Sunni–Shia differences, the Brotherhood’s relationship with Iran has been driven by strategic pragmatism. Sudan served as a transit point for Iranian weapons destined for Hamas, particularly between 2009 and 2012. Arms originating in Iran and post-Gaddafi Libya moved through Sudan toward Gaza, prompting repeated Israeli strikes on Sudanese territory. For Iran, Sudan offered geographic depth and access to Africa. For the Brotherhood, Iranian backing provided leverage, resources, and regional relevance. Ideology proved secondary to shared enemies and mutual advantage.
Taken together, these dynamics lead to an unavoidable conclusion: the Muslim Brotherhood is not an external influence on al-Burhan’s regime—it is its ideological and organizational backbone. The Brotherhood supplies fighters, intelligence expertise, political justification for prolonged war, and regional networks capable of mobilizing finance and propaganda. In return, the regime provides legitimacy, arms, and access to state institutions, replicating the same bargain that sustained Islamist rule under Omar al-Bashir.
For Africa, the stakes could not be higher. A Sudan dominated by Brotherhood doctrine and Iranian influence risks becoming a strategic hub for radical Islamist movements operating across the continent, from the Sahel to East Africa. Africa is a continent of opportunity, not inevitability. Yet prolonged instability in Sudan would accelerate the spread of militancy, criminal economies, and proxy warfare. And if Africa pays the first price, Europe will not be insulated. Migration pressures, security threats, and transnational networks do not respect borders. Sudan’s war has many battlefields, but its center of gravity is clear. Until the Brotherhood’s grip on the Sudanese state is broken, peace will remain elusive—and Africa’s promise will remain under threat.











