Beyond Bullets and Borders: How Livestock and Gum Arabic are Financing Sudan’s War

Photo Credit: Salahaldeen Nadir/World Bank

While much focus has been placed on the illicit flow of headline commodities like gold or oil, Sudan’s lesser-known exports of livestock and gum Arabic are quietly fuelling the war economy

In most contemporary discussions on Sudan’s ongoing conflict, international commentary often revolves around diplomatic exclusions, ceasefire negotiations, or the devastating human toll of aerial bombardments and displacement. Much focus is placed on the adage that when the elephants fight, it is the ground below which suffers. What is less discussed, but equally crucial, is the economy of war that thrives in the shadows of Sudan’s ongoing conflict. From livestock herded across frontlines to gum Arabic smuggled into multinational supply chains, the war is being financed not just by gold, oil and foreign backing, but by products we unknowingly use in our everyday lives.

While much focus has been placed on the illicit flow of headline commodities like gold or oil, Sudan’s lesser-known exports of livestock and gum Arabic are quietly fuelling the war economy. These goods, which are essential to both domestic livelihoods and global supply chains, are increasingly co-opted by armed actors, with revenue streams becoming central to the militarisation of trade routes and border communities.

Sudan’s livestock trade is among the country’s most lucrative export sectors, particularly to Gulf countries like Saudi Arabia. Every day, thousands of cattle, sheep, and camels are exported, with the value of these goods estimated at over US $715 million in 2023 alone. However, behind these numbers lies a darker reality: the routes from Darfur and central Sudan to Port Sudan are now controlled or contested by both the Sudan Armed Forces (SAF) and the Rapid Support Forces (RSF). In the areas they control, such as the Sim El Jarad Market in El Fasher, the RSF, have imposed informal taxes, protection fees, and often seize livestock, turning the trade into a direct source of conflict financing. Former United Nations (UN) official Nicholas Stockton has argued that this economic dynamic entrenches militarised governance and rewards territorial conquest. This has deepened communal divisions in already volatile regions like Gezira, Blue Nile, and South Kordofan, where nomadic herders, militia groups, and civilians are caught between competing war economies. Stockton proposed that Gulf states impose targeted import bans on livestock from conflict zones, cutting off a major income stream for armed actors. Without such measures, the conflict will continue to be financed, in part, by meat products consumed far from the battlefield.

Perhaps even more obscure, but no less important, is Sudan’s production of gum Arabic, a resin derived from the acacia trees of the Sahel and used globally in hundreds of products from Coca-Cola and M&M’s to L’Oréal cosmetics and pharmaceutical capsules. Sudan is responsible for up to 80% of the world’s supply, yet this vital export is now entangled in smuggling networks and conflict financing. As SAF and RSF forces battle for territorial control, regions like Darfur and Kordofan (rich in acacia groves) have become flashpoints of economic interest. Gum Arabic is extracted under the watchful eye of armed actors, transported via unofficial routes, and trafficked across borders without proper certification. While international companies claim to be sourcing ethically, the opacity of these trade routes makes oversight difficult, and conflict actors profit along the supply chain. The irony here is stark: products symbolising leisure and luxury in the minority world (global North) are now implicated in sustaining one of the world’s deadliest conflicts, which has precipitated the most dire humanitarian crisis in the world. Despite its benign appearance, gum Arabic is not a “neutral” product. It has become something of a geopolitical asset and, in the absence of regulation, a source of financing for the warring parties, fuelling the continuation of the conflict.    

Gum Arabic is extracted under the watchful eye of armed actors, transported via unofficial routes, and trafficked across borders without proper certificatio

Together, livestock and gum Arabic represent a broader category of informal and illicit flows that finance warfare while undermining the civilian economy. Unlike the highly publicised sanctioned gold or oil exports, these goods often bypass formal scrutiny, flowing through porous borders, informal taxation systems, and militia-controlled checkpoints.

This war economy has several critical effects on Sudan’s political and social landscape. First, it empowers armed actors: by controlling key export routes and production zones, both the SAF and RSF consolidate their military influence while undermining civilian governance structures. Second, it severely undermines civil society, as pastoralists, farmers, and gum harvesters, who have traditionally sustained these sectors, are increasingly pushed to the margins or forced into dependency on armed groups for protection and economic access. Third, it implicates external actors in the conflict, with Gulf and Western markets continuing to import these goods without adequate regulation, transparency or restrictions, effectively becoming complicit in sustaining the violence. Finally, it distorts prospects for reconstruction; any post-war recovery effort that overlooks the central role of informal economies will fail to address the structural financial incentives that perpetuate this conflict.

Echoes of empire: A neo-colonial economy in disguise

Moreover, one could argue that what we are witnessing in Sudan is not simply the continuation of conflict through economic means, but the reinvention of extractive colonialism through the global marketplace. Just as European empires once grew rich off Africa’s land, labour, and natural resources – while subjecting its people to exploitation and marginalisation – so too do today’s global and regional powers benefit from Sudan’s suffering. Western multinationals profit from the largely uninterrupted flow of gum Arabic, gold and oil into the consumer goods industry, while Gulf states expand their agricultural and livestock imports from Sudan rarely pausing to consider the conflict, displacement, or death that underpins those trade routes.

One could argue that what we are witnessing in Sudan is not simply the continuation of conflict through economic means, but the reinvention of extractive colonialism through the global marketplace

This economic structure mirrors the logic of colonialism: value is extracted from Africa and sent abroad, while the people who produce it remain excluded from the benefits, and voiceless in decision-making. Sudanese gum harvesters and herders, much like the labourers of previous centuries, are caught in a web of external demand and internal coercion, working within systems that enrich others while offering little in return but conflict, violence and oppression. The ethics of trade are suspended at the border, as long as supply chains continue to function. Moreover, foreign powers continue to shape Sudan’s political fate to serve their own strategic or commercial agendas, with scant regard for Sudanese sovereignty or grassroots voices. In doing so, they reinforce the same dynamics of domination, exclusion, and economic dependence that defined the colonial encounter. The problem is not just neglect, it is structural complicity. Peace will remain elusive so long as Africa continues to be treated as a resource warehouse, rather than a continent of rights-bearing peoples entitled to shape their own futures.

Shifting the peace paradigm

If international actors are serious about supporting peace in Sudan, they must go beyond diplomatic conferences and humanitarian aid. They must also target the economic engines of war.

This requires:

  • As suggested by Stockton, regulating Sudanese commodity supply chains in livestock and gum Arabic, including embargoes or conditional trade agreements that penalise sourcing from conflict zones.
  • Empowering Sudanese pastoralist unions, agricultural cooperatives, and civil society groups to take the lead in shaping sustainable, transparent export practices.
  • Introducing ethical certification mechanisms for Sudanese gum Arabic and livestock, akin to the Kimberley Process Certification Scheme.

Sudan’s war is not only waged with bullets but, like many conflicts through history, is also sustained by markets and the exploitation of resource extraction in conflict affected areas. The international community cannot claim neutrality while buying from the very hands that finance destruction. Nor can diplomacy restore Sudan’s future without addressing the economic roots of its violent present. The call remains the same as before: Sudanese voices must lead the path to peace. However, this time, we must also listen to the voices of those whose livelihoods are being weaponised, and who may hold the key to dismantling the war economy from the ground up.

Keenan Govender is an Independent Researcher focusing on leadership, governance, peace and security, and a former Programme Officer in the Research Unit at ACCORD.

Article by:

Keenan Govender
Research Consultant
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