Disinformation and Deepfakes Emerge as Silent Killers in Sudan’s Digital War

25 June 2026

A pedestrian walks past a makeshift roadside graveyard in Omdurman, Sudan, on April 27, 2025

June 24, 2026 (KHARTOUM) – In Sudan’s devastating war, flying projectiles and drones are not the only weapons claiming lives and destroying cities. A silent, invisible instrument of warfare is killing civilians in their homes and emergency shelters.

Disinformation and fabricated news broadcast by specialized digital platforms and media rooms are being deployed by both warring factions. The rival forces use these networks as a systematic strategy to control the flow of information, engineer alternative narratives, and wage psychological warfare.

The human cost of this digital panic is stark. Musab al-Sayyid, a resident of the Jabra neighbourhood south of Khartoum, lost his mother and became a refugee after reading an unverified social media post.

Al-Sayyid had been trying to remain in his home with his ill mother, who required constant medical care and diabetes medication. Amid intense fighting between the Sudanese army and the paramilitary Rapid Support Forces (RSF), he saw a post on an unverified Facebook page warning of an imminent invasion, heavy artillery shelling, and the complete wiping out of the neighbourhood within hours.

“Panic gripped me for my sick mother’s life, and I didn’t think twice,” al-Sayyid said. Driven by collective terror, he packed a few belongings and fled with his mother toward Al-Jazirah state.

During the journey, they were robbed of their money, phones, and their mother’s medical supply bag. They reached a village in Al-Jazirah exhausted and homeless. Deprived of medical care, his mother suffered sharp complications from diabetes and died.

The digital rumours in Sudan’s conflict extend beyond local panic to grand propaganda utilizing artificial intelligence and deepfake technologies.

One of the most widespread psychological operations involved reports claiming the death of RSF commander Mohamed Hamdan Dagalo, known as Hemetti. Electronic rooms and pro-army livestreamers provided what they called definitive digital evidence of his absence.

One prominent pro-army media figure broadcast a video analyzing the voiceprint and movement of the RSF leader during an official appearance. The commentator claimed the footage showed an AI-generated robot or a body double who had undergone plastic surgery. The narrative was sustained for months to disrupt the RSF’s tribal and military bases.

Civilians have also paid with their freedom after believing false reports of military victories. Suha and her three brothers remained in their home in Wad Madani, the capital of Al-Jazirah state, after pro-army digital platforms celebrated what they described as a decisive defeat of attacking forces on December 18, 2023.

The next morning, residents woke up to find that Wad Madani had fallen and the armed forces had suddenly withdrawn. Suha and her siblings fled on foot toward the army-controlled city of al-Manaqil.

Upon arrival, they were detained at a military intelligence checkpoint. Distraught and lacking identification documents lost during their flight, they were accused of cooperating with rebel forces, a charge stoked by digital platforms targeting alleged “sleeper cells” and fifth columnists.

Rights organizations report that tactical rumours have triggered mass displacement from areas that had not seen active combat. In northern states, Nile River, and Sennar states, anonymous digital rooms broadcast urgent warnings via WhatsApp groups, accompanied by fabricated audio clips of women crying for help or simulated explosions, claiming that massive rebel convoys were approaching to commit atrocities.

In a single night in mid-May 2023, more than 15,000 citizens fled parts of Khartoum North and Omdurman following coordinated rumours. The areas were later found to be free of military threats, while the empty homes were systematically looted.

“Since the outbreak of the April 15 war, the military confrontation has expanded into the media and digital platforms,” said Mohamed al-Hadi, a journalist specializing in content creation and countering hate speech. “A parallel war over public consciousness has emerged, which can be described as a ‘war of narratives’.”

Al-Hadi noted that rumours thrive in environments of anxiety and a lack of reliable information. He added that the conflict has shifted from a political and military level to social, tribal, and ethnic dimensions, undermining peace initiatives by labelling calls for dialogue as treason.

Sociologist Najla Abdel-Mahmoud Ahmed al-Geili said these platforms rely on confirmation bias and echo chambers. “These platforms create closed environments that give users a false sense of certainty, isolating individuals and causing sharp divisions even within single families,” she said.

Psychologist Amina Mohamed al-Shafie warned that continuous exposure to these networks keeps the brain in a permanent state of fight-or-flight, causing sleep disorders, headaches, and a pathological tendency toward isolation and extreme distrust.

Investigative findings and political sources indicate the digital media landscape is funded and managed through a complex network. Sources report that some media rooms receive financial and logistical support directly from the warring parties or via platforms managed from regional countries to purchase sponsored ads and back specific influencers.

The pro-army digital apparatus operates from temporary administrative centres in Port Sudan, anchoring its narrative on state sovereignty and institutional legitimacy.

An anonymous Sudanese army officer said, “War is primarily about managing media, public opinion, and mobilization. The army finds itself forced to activate its digital platforms to debunk the other side’s narratives.”

This network includes official army social media pages, security platforms managed by the General Intelligence Service to track suspected collaborators, and supporting online newspapers like Al-Karama and Sudan Now. It also relies on high-traffic accounts like the “Electronic Deterrence Brigade” and over 1,500 WhatsApp groups to counter anti-war civilian voices.

Conversely, the RSF manages a wide network of digital platforms, with much of its technical administration located outside Sudan, alongside field centres in cities such as Nyala and Ed Damazin.

The RSF apparatus utilizes channels on instant messaging apps under names such as “Peace Government” and “TASIS-FCF” to promote field victories and political narratives, alongside a network of prominent digital influencers and coordinated platforms like Sudan Mix and Al-Haqiqa.

From a legal perspective, international human rights lawyer Al-Moez Hadra argued that digital media tools in the Sudanese war have been transformed into destructive weapons used to engineer collective emotion and fuel polarization.

“The danger of these digital activities is not limited to media disinformation,” Hadra said. “It may legally rise to the level of war crimes or crimes against humanity, especially when linked to broadcasting organized hate speech, inciting violence on an ethnic basis, or spreading rumours that directly cause deadly forced displacement.”

Al-Sadiq Ali Hassan, a member of the Sudanese Group for the Defence of Rights and Freedoms, stated that the speed of digital sharing has turned online media into a primary battlefield. He warned that the escalation of tribal alignment over national citizenship threatens to fragment Sudan into unstable, competing entities similar to historical conflicts in Somalia and Libya.

This report was supported by the Thomson Foundation.