The Accidental Archive

On the afternoon of March 3rd, 2019, the autocratic Sudanese President Omar Al Bashir presided over the long awaited opening ceremony for the Sudan Sports City. After thanking all the parties involved in the project he informed them that in fact, the complex would really be open in three months, when the work was actually finished. This was the third time the project opening was delayed. President Al-Bashir was deposed four weeks later. Lost in the turmoil that gripped the country, the ceremony, a purely ideological act since construction was never completed, seemed to bring an end to the tortured existence of a project that, to many Sudanese men and women, exemplified the corruption and incompetence of the state.

The saga of Sudan Sports City is typical of the many infrastructural projects, promised but not delivered by the deposed regime. In a country with limited resources, infrastructural development was precious political capital. The regime utilised infrastructure, and thus architecture, as a vehicle to further political ambitions, deploying it as an effective arm of state propaganda. Infrastructure development,Colin McFarlane and Jonathan Rutherford (2008) point out, is fundamentally a political process. The stark differences between what was promised (the project was to catapult Sudanese athletics onto the world stage in 3 years) and what was delivered (the project was deemed a failure) tells of a deep dysfunction that has plagued the Sudanese economy, government and infrastructural development for decades. The unmistakable, squat mass of the Sudan Sports City is a site of visible state investment; offering up an exquisite corpse, one that evidences the circumstances that drove this dysfunction. Within this imposing edifice, its concrete guts and its political infamy is an archive hewn onto the built environment. This archive, constantly evolving and accruing, offers a means through which Sudanese people can critically interrogate the narratives of oppression and complicity that have shaped their relationship with the state.

Sudan Sports City

Initially conceived in early 1966, the Sudan Sports City, or AlMadina AlRiyadia came under serious consideration by President Gaffar Nimery in 1972. The nascent project was shelved after studies, commissioned by the Ministry of Youths and Sports, predicted a high price tag and the lack of local expertise to properly execute the project. A flicker of hope was ignited when, in late 1989, under a new, elected government, Omdurman based football club Al-Merrikh returned to Sudan carrying the African Cup Winners Cup trophy. This triumph of global proportions coincided with the coup d’etat that deposed the country’s young democracy, replacing them with the militarised autocratic regime of President Al-Bashir. Buoyed by the international nature of this achievement and eager to capitalize on the patriotic fervour engulfing its citizens, the state declared the revival of the Sudan Sports City Project, a project that would provide the youth of Sudan with the infrastructure to replicate the exploits of the champions from Omdurman.

The search for a home for the SSC project culminated in the issuance of a presidential directive, instructing the appropriation of 1.5 million square metres of farmland (الساقية 33 مطري الجريف غرب) in the southern periphery of the capital Khartoum. The site was designated as residential property and its former owners were compensated with individual plots extracted from the project site. Disputes regarding the compensation offered by the state were swiftly crushed. With no hope for a favourable judgment, the original land owners were forced to acquiesce to the will of the state. This was the first of many territorial disputes that plagued the project. Indeed, through its lifetime, the project was the site of territorial and legislative violence, perpetrated by both the state and private capital.

Center & Periphery

Commensurate to the political capital invested in the project, the program for the Sudan Sports City was very ambitious. The project was designed by Al Dar Consult and contracted to Dan Fodio Group for construction, both companies with ties to the ruling regime. The program consisted of an olympic-sized stadium (80,000 seats), complete with a running track and parking; two olympic-sized swimming pools, an indoor sports hall, administrative offices and a hotel for visiting teams. Placed on an north-south axis linking it to other significant infrastructures, and visible to planes landing in Khartoum International airport the SSC was to enjoy maximum visibility to the outside world. It was designed to elevate Sudanese athletics to an international stage while simultaneously projecting the image of a state invested in the development of its citizens. Historian James Ferguson has argued that the rhetoric of “development” recognises the state’s responsibility as the provider of services. However, this rhetoric is inevitably used to extend the state’s reach over its citizens. Ferguson stresses that attention should be paid not only to the results of development projects but to the ways in which the development of architecture and infrastructure (materially, economically, socially) perform as a means to entrench state control. In Sudan state control is often manifested in the tension between the centre and the periphery. The “center” in Sudan is identified by Abkr Adam Ismael as: rulers, ministers, aristocrats and male religious figures. This “center”, as Ismael identifies it, entrenches state control by exerting its dominance on the ideological, political and economic center of the country, the city of Khartoum. While critics of the project objected to the concentration of infrastructure in one single city rather than being distributed throughout the country, to many in power the concentration of resources was crucial to broadcasting the state’s patronage of its citizens.

Territorial Violence

Construction on site commenced in December 1993 following an opening ceremony attended by the president. Estimates for the initial project budget vary but later records show that a total of around $37 million was spent on the project. Following a period of 2 years construction with progress being made on site preparations and pouring concrete foundations, work onsite ground to a halt. The funds allocated for the project had been depleted. During the period from 1994 to 2007 the Sports City existed in a state of suspense, a browning husk of reinforced concrete sinking into a mountain of rubble; with pillars of rebar cages rusting in the scorching sun and its foundations frequently flooded with water and garbage.

While construction was paused, twelve percent of the area was partitioned off, by order of the president, to the International University of Africa. This was the first in a series of land grabs that saw the overall area allocated to the project shrink by a total of 73 percent. As land prices increased, successive ministry officials (10 ministers presided over the ministry during the project lifetime) facilitated the sale of the public land to private buyers. This was initially done in hopes of securing funding for the construction of the project. However, the investigative report prepared by Haj Majed Siwar, Minister of Youth and Sports in 2012 uncovered a different story. The report detailed how these land sales, all illegal under constitutional law, were not authorised by the ministry responsible but rather by prominent state officials who usurped their authority. This included the sale of thirty percent of the project site to thirteen anonymous entities, only two of which are accounted for to this day.

Progress on the project between 2004–2019

As new, unrelated construction appeared on land originally allocated for the project, its stagnation became even more conspicuous. The stark contrast between the neglected jungle of concrete foundations and the high walled villas and apartment buildings encroaching on them brought the scale of corruption and neglect to the fore. The Sports City became the icon of government corruption and incompetence, an object of ridicule. A cartoon, published in ,صحيفة التغيير depicted the land grabs as a “football field overrun by new villas and apartment buildings”. The project, for a public now disaffected by its rulers, became the object upon which state malfeasance was rendered visible.

Cartoon: Sports City or What’s left of it. (Ombady, 2015)

Alternatively the new villas and apartment buildings that crowded the project site offer an insight into, what Alex de Waal described as, the “neo-patrimonial system of governance”, that characterized the regime. These vivid signs of “private” investment, on public land were jarring to the Sudanese public. Herbst and Olukoshi (1994) note, patron-client relationships have characterized all post-colonial regimes, military and civilian. In Sudan, as De Waal details, an urban based business elite solidifies its status by establishing such relationships with the state. In the case of the SSC the state enriched itself by borrowing against the future of its citizens, exchanging state property and infrastructure for money. This transaction however implicates another party, one that knowingly colluded with the state to undermine its responsibility to its citizens. The charges of kleptocracy leveled at the state also extend to the private sector run by a capitalist class, one that enabled these corrupt norms and willingly bankrolled the state, rendering it complicit in the disenfranchisement of its fellow citizens.

Suspension and Ruination

Following the investigative report on the SSC the project was taken under the management of the President office in 2015 . A committee, formed with the explicit purpose of completing the construction on site and headed by a new Minister of Youth and Sports was able to secure 400 million SDG as funding to complete construction. Eager to achieve this within the 15 months time frame declared by President Al-Bashir, the committee opted to focus on the completion of the stadium and its accompanying services, significantly downsizing the project scope. When questioned about the new project scope and legal disputes regarding sold off lands, the minister, Haider Jalocama (حيدر جالوكما), declared that he had purposefully ignored the issue and had focused his efforts instead on building a fence around the remaining site to protect it from further appropriation. The fence, which took 6 month to complete because of legal disputes, was the only way to protect the cannibalistic state from itself. However, on the other side of the proverbial fence was isolated all the political, economic and social baggage accumulated within the project’s lifetime. Building a fence not only served to protect the SSC from corrupt state officials. It was also a mechanism through which the state could dismiss past transgressions while simultaneously foisting the reality of a stripped down project on its citizens.

In October of 2019, six months after the autocratic regime was toppled, the new minister of youth and sports suspended operations at the SSC, announcing investigations of corruption were underway. Additionally investigations conducted by the University of Khartoum engineering department revealed numerous structural deficiencies in the projects. Stress tests carried out on the spectator stands resulted in the collapse of one and significant deterioration on others. This damage was attributed to design flaws (the structural columns were too small) and the use of inferior materials in concrete pours. The report also included recommendations for significant repairs and structural improvements to the existing building. The Sudan Sports City was already in a state of ruin. Oscillating between these states of suspension, ruination and “completeness” the project occupies multiple temporalities, “human and nonhuman, social and technical, and material and ideological”. As such its future is unpredictable.

Understanding the existence of the Sudan Sports City as open ended allows for us to tell richer narratives about the life of the project and inversely the forces that caused the shift in its temporalities. Within these temporalities are archived the details that tie together the narratives of our collective past, present and future. The ruin of the SSC therefore is not just an artifact of an unsuccessful endeavor, it is a ruin of our future; an unexpected archive of a process instantiated in concrete. This unintentional archive negotiates the spatial realm of the political and economic, rendering visible fault lines that have shaped the Sudanese identity throughout its history; offering a means to contextualize the conflict between center and periphery while shedding a light on the unexplored questions of complicity and disenfranchisement.

As the SSC transitions into this new existence it is tempting to speculate upon its fate, and contemplate how the radical changes in Sudan will alter it. Imbued with considerable cultural capital the SSC is a visible marker, one that is bound to evidence the influence of these changes. Perhaps on the path to reconcile the crimes of previous regimes, the SSC is exorcised of its demons and charts a way through to fulfilling its role as a key infrastructure for Khartoum. To most this would be a desirable outcome. Alternatively the SSC, lacking political and financial support, could remain in legal and structural limbo for years to come. This alternative, while undesirable at first sight, could be the better one. In its state of obsolescence and ruin, the SSC, unable to host its home crowd, plays a far more valuable role; that of the archive.

Previous
Previous

Eating the Planet

Next
Next

Prosterity Issue 02: ON FAITH