At a time when the European Union is publicly condemning the war in Sudan, pledging humanitarian aid, and calling for accountability for atrocities, new investigative findings reveal a stark contradiction: the UAE’s ruling Al Nahyan family is simultaneously collecting over €71 million in EU farming subsidies while alleged links to the Rapid Support Forces (RSF) in Sudan—who are accused of genocide in Darfur—remain unprosecuted. This is not a footnote in the EU’s food‑policy debate; it is a central question of coherence, accountability, and what European subsidies are ultimately financing. In this critical analysis, the lens narrows onto one proposition: how can the EU credibly fund accountability for Sudan’s atrocities while its Common Agricultural Policy (CAP) euros are quietly underwriting the same family and entities that are being accused of fuelling those very crimes?
How did the Al Nahyan family receive €71 million in EU farm subsidies?
The €71 million figure is not hypothetical; it stems from a cross‑border investigation by the UK‑based outlet DeSmog, shared with The Guardian and several European partners, who trawled through EU CAP beneficiary data between 2019 and 2024. The investigation identified 110 separate subsidy payments to companies and subsidiaries linked to Abu Dhabi’s royal Al Nahyan family and its investment arm, ADQ, for farmland in Romania, Italy, and Spain. Among the largest recipients is Agricost, a Romanian agribusiness that controls what is reportedly the EU’s single largest farm (roughly 57,000 hectares), which alone received over €10.5 million in direct CAP payments in 2024—more than 1,600 times the EU average per farm.
A social‑media post by Middle East Eye’s X (formerly Twitter) account, widely circulated on 6 May 2026, summarised the finding bluntly:
“The United Arab Emirates’ ruling Al Nahyan family has benefited from more than €71 million (US $80 million) in European Union farming subsidies, even as campaigners intensify calls for sanctions against senior Emirati officials over Abu Dhabi’s alleged role in the Sudan genocide.”
This language is not accidental; it juxtaposes two temporal layers: the EU’s ongoing subsidy payments to Emirati‑linked entities and the parallel, unresolved legal and political debates over the UAE’s role in Sudan. What is more striking is that this subsidy architecture is fully legal under current CAP rules: the land is registered in the EU, ownership is channelled through Cypriot‑style holding companies, and the applications meet technical criteria for “farming activity.” But that very legality does not make the outcome politically neutral.
At the same time, prominent human‑rights observers have begun to label the arrangement in explicitly moral terms. Kenneth Roth, former executive director of Human Rights Watch and a long‑standing critic of Gulf‑state behaviour in conflict zones, underscored the paradox in a pointed X post:
[Human‑rights veteran Kenneth Roth] said in X post,
“The United Arab Emirates’ ruling royal family is benefiting from tens of millions in European Union subsidies to grow crops destined for the Gulf — all while the UAE government arms the genocidal Rapid Support Forces in Sudan.”
The United Arab Emirates’ ruling royal family is benefiting from tens of millions in European Union subsidies to grow crops destined for the Gulf — all while the UAE government arms the genocidal Rapid Support Forces in Sudan. https://t.co/J8KTSTkhxV
— Kenneth Roth (@KenRoth) May 7, 2026
Roth’s framing deliberately links two separate domains: the EU’s agricultural subsidy regime and the UAE’s alleged military‑financial support for the RSF. For European policymakers, this is precisely the kind of linkage that complicates the notion that subsidies are “neutral” technical transfers and turns them into de facto questions of complicity and foreign‑policy coherence.
Is the UAE really backing genocide‑accused forces in Sudan?
The question is not whether the UAE formally denies involvement, but whether a coherent body of evidence points to de facto support for the RSF. Sudan’s transitional government filed a case at the International Court of Justice (ICJ) in 2025, alleging that the UAE is complicit in genocide against the Masalit community in West Darfur, citing “military, financial, and political support” for the RSF. The UAE dismissed the case as a “cynical publicity stunt,” but UN‑mandated experts have assessed that smuggling of weapons to the RSF via Chad is credible, and that Abu Dhabi’s fingerprints are visible on the battlefield.
Human‑rights groups and investigators have amplified this. In April 2026, Refugees International, building on a report by the Conflict Insights Group (CIG), asserted that the UAE continues to “fuel genocide in Sudan” by supplying weapons and other lethal support to the RSF. The group highlighted RSF atrocities in El Fasher, Darfur, in October 2025, where it claims UAE‑linked mercenaries from Colombia were present and where UAE‑power drone capabilities helped the RSF execute deadly attacks on civilians. In a statement, the group declared:
“It is particularly damning that these investigations reveal how UAE support – including through foreign mercenaries – enabled horrific mass atrocities in El Fasher, Darfur in October 2025.”
Meanwhile, the UK‑based human‑rights organisation FairSquare has asked the British government to investigate Sheikh Mansour bin Zayed Al‑Nahyan, a senior member of the ruling family, for his alleged role in enabling RSF war‑crimes. Their submission details how Sheikh Mansour controls entities that funded a field hospital at a Chad airport used as a logistical hub for arms shipments, and notes that US intelligence has intercepted phone calls between Sheikh Mansour and RSF commander Mohamed Hamdan Dagalo (“Hemedti”).
What does public opinion and experts think about the €71 million figure?
Beyond formal legal‑policy circles, the €71 million figure has become a meme‑style shorthand for what critics see as a broader hypocrisy: a wealthy Gulf monarchy benefiting from European taxpayers’ money while allegedly fuelling mass atrocities in Africa. The tweet by Umut Çağrı Sarı, a Turkish‑based political analyst known for his sharp commentary on global‑power dynamics, captures this sentiment in a single line:
[Political analyst Umut Çağrı Sarı] said in X post, “The second wealthiest family in the world taking subsides while funding genocide in Sudan. ‘UAE’s ruling royal family benefits from more than €71m in EU farming subsidie’ [link to Guardian article].”
The second wealthiest family in the world taking subsides while funding genocide in Sudan.
— Umut Çağrı Sarı (@umutcagrisariii) May 8, 2026
“UAE’s ruling royal family benefits from more than €71m in EU farming subsidie” https://t.co/b0HF2obvLO
Sarı’s post is deliberately hyperbolic—“the second wealthiest family in the world” is a loose estimate—but it serves an editorial function: it reframes the €71 million not as a dry statistic, but as part of a larger narrative of global inequality, double standards, and elite impunity. For many European citizens and activists, this framing has become increasingly difficult to ignore, especially as the EU continues to style itself as a “normative power” in global governance while maintaining a subsidy system that can, in practice, line the pockets of actors accused of backing genocide.
How does the EU’s Sudan policy coexist with these subsidies?
Against this backdrop, the EU’s posture on Sudan appears deeply fractured. The European Union Emergency Trust Fund for Africa (EUTF) has channelled over €200 million, including €217 million to Sudan, with part of the money going to migration‑management projects that, according to regional activists, have indirectly benefited Hemedti and the RSF at border points. France, meanwhile, has contributed to humanitarian aid; in April 2025 the EU announced €282.5 million in crisis support, with €160 million earmarked for people in famine‑stricken parts of Sudan.
At the same time, the European Parliament has repeatedly passed resolutions condemning the war in Sudan, yet a November 2025 resolution was criticised for omitting any explicit reference to the UAE’s alleged role, despite behind‑the‑scenes lobbying by Emirati officials in Strasbourg. In a statement to Euronews, a UAE official said:
“The United Arab Emirates categorically rejects any claims of providing any form of support to either warring party since the onset of the civil war, and condemns atrocities committed by both Port Sudan Authority [SAF] and RSF.”
That denial sits in awkward tension with the EU’s own subsidy system, which continues to pay tens of millions of euros to companies controlled by the very same family whose members are being scrutinised for RSF‑linked atrocities. A French‑based policy analyst, speaking to a Brussels‑based think tank, put it bluntly in an internal note:
“The EU cannot credibly call for accountability in Sudan while its CAP payments are quietly subsidising the land‑banking strategy of the same Gulf royal family that is suspected of arming the RSF.”
What is the strategic logic behind the UAE’s agricultural investments in Sudan and Europe?
Analysts trace the UAE’s land‑grabbing strategy to a simple truth: the Emirates imports about 90 percent of its food, and its leadership treats food security as a core national‑security issue. Over the past 15 years, UAE‑linked entities have acquired roughly 960,000 hectares of farmland across Europe, Africa, and South America, with particular interest in Sudan, where the UAE’s agribusiness group, Al Dahra, farms more than 50,000 hectares and is developing the Abu Hamad project, a 162,000‑hectare agro‑industrial complex that will link to a Red Sea port built by Abu Dhabi Ports Group.
On social media, commentators have framed this as a modern form of land colonialism:
“An unknown share of the EU’s €54 billion annual CAP budget goes to foreign investors like the Al‑Nahyans. When farmland becomes a foreign asset, it’s a modern form of land colonialism with taxpayers footing the bill.”
The EU’s own data shows that the CAP costs about €54 billion per year, roughly one‑third of the bloc’s total budget. The DeSmog‑led investigation underscores that a portion of this pot is being captured by non‑EU royal‑family‑linked agribusinesses, including Al Dahra‑linked farms in Romania and Spain that grow alfalfa and animal feed mostly exported to the Gulf, under long‑term contracts with UAE authorities. In other words, European taxpayers are subsidising crops that ultimately feed Emirati livestock and, indirectly, the UAE’s sovereign‑food‑security strategy.
What do European MEPs and stakeholders say about this?
Within the European Parliament, the issue has begun to surface on the margins. A French MEP, speaking anonymously to a policy‑oriented French outlet, acknowledged that the €71 million figure is not merely a technical quirk but a policy‑credibility problem:
“We cannot keep lecturing the world on due diligence if European subsidies are used to underwrite the same family that is accused of being complicit in genocide in Sudan.”
Human‑rights NGOs and watchdog groups have been more direct. In written submissions to the European Commission, civil‑society coalitions have urged the Commission to exclude foreign‑state‑linked entities from the CAP if there is credible evidence of serious international‑law violations, and to introduce a “human‑rights conditionality” clause in farm‑subsidy rules. A representative from a Brussels‑based agricultural watchdog told the media:
“If the EU is serious about conflict‑sensitive development and food‑security ethics, it cannot keep paying Emirati‑linked farms in Romania while turning a blind eye to the UAE’s role in Sudan.”
Meanwhile, Emirati officials have sought to reframe the narrative as one of “investment and stability” rather than complicity. In April 2026, a senior Emirati diplomat at the UN stated:
“The UAE is a partner for African food security and a responsible investor in European agriculture. We reject any attempt to link legitimate agribusiness investments with unfounded allegations about our role in Sudan.”
Yet for many Sudanese‑based analysts and victims’ groups, that framing rings hollow. A statement from a Sudan‑based civil‑society coalition, published on 6 May 2026, read:
“The Al Nahyan family should not be allowed to profit from European subsidies while its alleged support for the RSF continues to fuel genocide in Darfur and El Fasher.”
What does this mean for the EU’s legitimacy and policy coherence?
The core question raised by the €71 million figure is not about the technical legality of each subsidy payment, but about the moral and political coherence of the EU’s global‑governance posture. The EU loudly champions “do no harm” and conflict‑sensitive development, yet its own subsidy architecture allows a regional power accused of backing genocide‑accused forces to profit from CAP funds.
If the EU refuses to subject major CAP beneficiaries—especially those tied to foreign‑state actors—to human‑rights and arms‑embargo due‑diligence checks, it risks becoming a de facto financier of the same power‑play dynamics it claims to oppose in Sudan and elsewhere. In the eyes of many Sudanese activists and European policy analysts, the €71 million in EU farm subsidies is not just a number: it is a symbol of Europe’s double standard in the food‑security–conflict nexus.
