How Syria's Captagon empire is being reborn in Sudan's war

Since war erupted between Sudan's military and the paramilitary Rapid Support Forces (RSF) in April 2023, a burgeoning trade in the illicit amphetamine Captagon has become a central feature of the conflict. 

The scale of this burgeoning drug trade was dramatically confirmed in February 2025, when Sudanese General Intelligence officers, alongside the army, finally secured the al-Jaili industrial area north of Khartoum from the RSF and uncovered a scene that laid it bare.

Inside a half-finished compound, they found industrial mixers, a tablet press still coated in a fine white residue, and crates of new machinery.

The raw materials, deceptively packaged in bags marked "animal feed supplement" and "manufactured in Syria," were stacked high.

"This factory produces 100,000 pills per hour," an intelligence officer stated grimly in a video from the site. "The raw material we seized is enough for 700 million pills. The militia used these to give their soldiers strength and motivation."

The massive al-Jaili facility was not an isolated operation. As the Sudanese Armed Forces (SAF) began retaking parts of the capital, further proof of a wider narco-strategy emerged with the discovery of smaller Captagon production labs hidden in residential homes and factories that had been under RSF control.

This pivot to narcotics offers a clear logic. While the RSF still controls significant gold mining operations, it has lost direct control over some key mines, and others in its territories are routinely targeted by SAF airstrikes. With this primary revenue stream under pressure, the chemical trade offered a golden, and perhaps more resilient, opportunity.

The discovery also serves as confirmation of a worrying new reality. Sudan, a country historically known for the cultivation of cannabis, or bango, is transforming into a hub for the production and trafficking of a synthetic and far more dangerous substance.

This lethal evolution is a direct consequence of the collapse of a narco-state thousands of kilometres away.

For over a decade, the global epicentre of Captagon production was Syria. Crippled by sanctions, the regime of Bashar Al-Assad turned to the illicit drug trade as a financial lifeline, creating an industrial-scale enterprise reportedly worth billions and overseen by his brother, Maher Al-Assad.

But the regime's dramatic fall in late 2024 decapitated the operation. The new authorities in Damascus pledged to "purify" Syria of the trade, publicly destroying labs and stockpiles.

However, a narco-empire does not simply vanish overnight. Long before the regime’s final days, increasing diplomatic and security pressure from neighbours like Jordan and Saudi Arabia had already forced these narco-networks to become smaller, more mobile, and more discreet.

The kingpins fled, but the infrastructure of expertise, smuggling routes, and corrupt networks remained, seeking a new, more permissive environment. They found it in Sudan.

This migration of expertise is central to understanding how Sudan became a production hub so quickly. 

"There is a clear link to Syria-based actors," Caroline Rose, Director of Strategic Blind Spots at the New Lines Institute, where much of her work focuses on the nexus of Crime and Conflict, explained to The New Arab.

She notes that the know-how was likely imported by Syrian networks that had already established operations in countries like Kuwait, Iraq, and Turkey following the 2024 crackdown in Syria.

The technical barrier, she explains, is surprisingly low. "It doesn't take too much," Rose told TNA. "All you need is a lot of cash."

The industrial equipment, such as dual-use mixers and tablet presses, can be acquired through shell companies masquerading as legitimate businesses - a plastics factory, a veterinary supply company, or even a food processing plant.

These networks often follow established paths of influence and diaspora.

Before its own civil war, Sudan was home to an estimated 150,000 Syrians who had fled their country's conflict. While there is not yet evidence directly linking any members of this community to the trade, videos have circulated on social media showing fighters with Syrian accents wearing RSF uniforms, fuelling speculation about the nature of the foreign expertise aiding the paramilitary.. 

Just north of Khartoum, River Nile state has become a frontline in this drug war. In August 2023, local police made one of the largest seizures in the country's history. Acting on a tip, they intercepted a truck on a remote farm outside the city of Shendi. Hidden inside were over two million Captagon pills. 

"This isn't a small operation," explained Ahmed Nour, a veteran police officer in River Nile State who requested his name be changed. "This is an organised, well-funded operation. They target places like River Nile state to create addiction and chaos far from the battle lines."

Once a shipment lands in a city, it is handed off to local Sudanese drug-dealing networks - now thriving amid the state's effective collapse. According to Nour, these networks offered his colleagues "big money to look the other way".

Quantifying the exact revenue Captagon generates for the RSF is nearly impossible. But with a pill costing cents to make and selling for up to $25 in Saudi Arabia, the trade undoubtedly represents a significant financial lifeline.

While the RSF is the primary suspect, Rose cautions that the full picture is still developing. "There is likely an RSF component, but we still don't have definitive evidence of this or the full scope of who is producing this stuff," she says, a vital reminder of the fog of war.

The true cost, however, is not just measured in dollars or pounds, but in the devastation of addiction spreading through a generation already traumatised by war.

Adila Ibrahim, a Sudanese Addiction Studies Researcher based in the United States, warns of an emerging public health catastrophe - one she says is perfectly suited for the country's dire circumstances.

In the “context of food insecurity and displacement,” Captagon’s appeal is dangerously simple, she says, as it suppresses hunger while inducing euphoria.

Additionally, in a country where the healthcare system is in a state of collapse, Ibrahim proposes pragmatic, low-resource solutions to begin confronting the epidemic.

"Small efforts could help curb future escalation, [like] beginning some type of data collection. Sudanese health professionals could also use existing platforms by embedding drug screening and education into existing TB and malnutrition services,” Ibrahim said.

“Working within the community could also be helpful by collaborating with imams and teachers to provide drug education and guide prevention efforts."

This strategy underscores the need for a multi-pronged response. Rose also emphasises international cooperation, where Sudan can "exchange as much intel as it can" with neighbouring states about smuggling routes.

Rose also points to the critical need for "forensic analysis" of seized pills. By understanding the precise chemical composition, she argues, authorities can create identifiers for different batches, helping them uncover patterns of production, trace supply chains back to their source, and ultimately identify the key players behind the trade.

In the end, the battle against the pills is inseparable from the battle for Sudan itself. The Captagon boom that has taken shelter in Sudan’s war, following the decline of Syria's narco-state, now threatens to leave a trail of addiction and instability that could plague the country for years to come.

Elfadil Ibrahim is a writer and analyst focused on Sudanese politics