In many multiethnic nations, leaders have tried to seize power by playing on communal fears and resentments. President Salva Kiir has pursued a similar tactic in South Sudan by promoting a false image of a “Jieng government” in which Dinkas monopolise power to the exclusion of others. On the surface, it looks as though the entire Jieng (Dinka) community is in control. In truth, it is a strategy designed to shield Kiir, enrich his inner circle, and keep the country divided. Yet this carefully managed impression of total Jieng dominance only scratches the surface of Kiir’s true intent.
Nevertheless, Kiir’s strategy outwardly mirrors the playbook of other exclusive regimes—using fear, control of the security apparatus, patronage, and calls to a supposed “rightful dominance” or “guardians of the state”—in reality, it is largely a façade. Historical examples, from Rwanda’s Hutu Power to Sri Lanka’s Sinhalese or India’s Hindutva (nationalism), featured systematic institution-building and coherent, even if destructive, ideologies; Kiir, by contrast, relies on crude intimidation and crude patronage without the intellectual rigor or disciplined structures that typically sustain oppressive systems. Thus, while it may look like a classic attempt at ethnic hegemony, Kiir’s approach is fundamentally fragile and self-serving, lacking the institutional depth of its notorious predecessors. Even so, it continues to influence how both allies and adversaries perceive his rule.
To understand how this façade works in practice, Kiir’s administration projects the impression that Jieng interests dominate every aspect of the state. Observers see many Jieng figures in the army, security agencies, and various government posts. This gives other ethnic groups the sense that the Jieng are collectively to blame for all the failures and abuses of the government. Kiir and his advisers exploit this perception. Once anger rises against “the Jieng,” Kiir then turns to his Jieng base and says, “The whole country hates you—only I or my government can protect you.” In this way, he stokes fear within his community and weaponizes that fear to keep himself in power.
However, the real beneficiaries of Kiir’s policies are not all Jieng. They are mainly his family, his closest cronies, and a small sub-ethnic clique. They control lucrative revenue streams, high-ranking security roles, and profitable business deals. Meanwhile, ordinary Jieng struggle with the same hardships—conflict, displacement, lack of services—that plague much of South Sudan. By carefully placing Jieng officials in visible positions, Kiir pretends to share spoils widely, but most meaningful gains flow right back to his narrow network.
This setup makes it extremely difficult for conscientious Jieng to criticize Kiir or propose reforms. Any Jieng intellectual, politician, or civil society activist who dares to speak out faces immediate labelling as a sellout. They are called traitors who threaten the very existence of their people. Some fear rejection by their community; many either keep quiet, flee the country, or offer highly calibrated and careful objections. Moreover, the mere appearance of a “Jieng government” under Kiir has delegitimized genuine Jieng opposition, leading some critics to be dismissed as agents of the state or informants rather than authentic voices for reform. This dynamic is deliberate: Kiir gains near-total loyalty from influential Jieng figures because dissent is equated with betraying the entire ethnic group.
Yet the truth is that Kiir has inflicted profound harm on the Jieng. Under his watch, Jieng communities have been displaced, divided, and neglected. Local cohesion has unravelled, and internal communal fights and power struggles have scarred the proud history of the Jieng. His policies and wars have cost countless Jieng lives, and there is little to show in terms of actual development or unity. In reality, the greatest enemy of Jieng today is Kiir himself because he uses the community as a shield while advancing personal and family interests.
Other ethnic groups, meanwhile, sometimes make matters worse by blaming the entire Jieng population for Kiir’s misrule. Instead of recognizing that most Jieng suffer as well, critics treat the Jieng as one block behind Kiir. This pushes many Jieng to cling to him out of fear: if everyone else is hostile, they feel they have nowhere else to turn. Kiir welcomes that atmosphere because it keeps him firmly in power. The more hostility is aimed at the Jieng as a whole, the easier it is for him to posture as their only defender.
The way forward must be to isolate Kiir and his narrow circle, not an entire ethnic group. The people of South Sudan—Jieng and non-Jieng alike—need to unite around genuine transformation. If the rest of the country allows resentment to focus on all Jieng, Kiir will keep exploiting that wedge. However, if communities recognize that the Jieng are also victims, the possibility arises of mobilizing Jieng, Nuer, Equatorians, and everyone else to pursue real change. This broad alliance is necessary before Kiir and his clique dismantle the nation entirely and carry off to their miserable graves whatever pieces are left of the country.
No lasting peace or reform can be achieved by excluding a large segment of the population. That only sets the stage for further divisions. Every ethnic group—especially the Jieng—must be part of the solution. Only through inclusive dialogue and a shared commitment to fairness can South Sudan break out of the cycle of suspicion and violence. Isolating Kiir and his cronies requires rejecting his narrative of ethnic fear. It demands clarity in identifying his corrupt, divisive strategies and refusing to blame entire communities for the damage he has caused.
For South Sudan to move forward, there must be recognition that Kiir’s government has weaponized ethnicity purely for power. We should call out how he exploits Jieng representation to hide the enrichment of his inner circle. We must stand with Jieng, who opposes Kiir, and acknowledge their courage in a climate of intimidation. We must also break the habit of lumping all Jieng together with Kiir’s regime. And we must do so quickly—before more people across all tribes are displaced, impoverished, or killed in a conflict that ultimately profits only a handful at the top.
Ultimately, South Sudan belongs to everyone: Jieng, Nuer, Bari, Zande, Shilluk, and all others. If we allow any leader to divide and conquer by pitting ethnic groups against one another, we will all keep losing. However, South Sudan can move beyond this tragic chapter if communities join forces, expose Kiir’s toxic brand of governance, and demand an inclusive alternative. Kiir’s days of fuelling ethnic fear to stay in power can—and must—be brought to a close through unified national action.
The writer, Dr. Remember Miamingi, is a South Sudanese expert in governance and human rights, as well as a political commentator. He can be contacted via email at remember.miamingi@gmail.com
The views expressed in ‘opinion’ articles published by Radio Tamazuj are solely those of the writer. The veracity of any claims made is the responsibility of the author, not Radio Tamazuj.