Democratic Republic of Congo

M23, a rebel group active in the eastern Congo, advanced on the provincial capital of Goma over the weekend, but has subsequently pulled back. Instead of an attack on Goma, the rebels presented a list of demands to the Kinshasa government that include de-militarization of the city and its airport. It is also demanding the opening of a border post with Uganda, in the town of Bunagana. This military activity broke a cease fire that had been in place for almost three months. As M23 advanced on Goma, UN peacekeepers assisted the Congolese army. The UN Secretary General denounced M23 attacks. On November 17th, the president of the UN Security Council issued a statement expressing “deep concern” about the “rapidly deteriorating security and humanitarian crisis” in the eastern Congo, because of M23 military activities. At the same time, the foreign ministers of the eleven members of International Conference of the Great Lakes (including Rwanda and Uganda) have started exploring the possibilities of a neutral international force. The context of M23 includes issues unresolved from the 1994 Rwanda genocide and the resulting refugee movements, issues between “settlers” and “indigenes,” and quarrels over land use that often have an ethnic dimension. Outside intervention is also a likely part of this witches’ brew. M23 started as a military mutiny within the Congolese army. Its numbers appear to be very small and roots in the local population shallow. UN entities have accused Paul Kagama’s government in Rwanda of supporting M23, and in the past Ugandan elements have also meddled in eastern Congo. Kagame’s government has vociferously denied the UN charges. Nevertheless, M23 success makes credible the accusations that it benefits from outside support. It remains to be seen if the UN Security Council action will induce Rwanda, and perhaps Uganda, to stop supporting M23.

This is a guest post by Asch Harwood. Asch is the Council on Foreign Relations Africa program research associate. The Fund for Peace and Foreign Policy have released their 2012 Failed States Index. Fourteen of the twenty states listed as “critical” are found in sub-Saharan Africa. Among the highest scores (bad) are Somalia, DRC, Chad, Zimbabwe, and Sudan. How predictive is the index? Well, it depends on how you define state failure. If you mean coup, clearly it’s not 100 percent accurate. Mali ranked number 79, which means that it is in danger, but not critical. And yet the country has been struck by interrelated crises—the coup in Bamako, Azawad’s secession and occupation, Tuareg mercenaries, jihadist camps—that fulfill most definitions of state failure. (Jay Ulfelder argues it is indeed possible to assess the likelihood of a coup, which could be considered one definition for state failure.) But if you identify state failure not as a single incident but as a continuum of insecurity, alienation, and poverty, the Failed States Index provides a useful model. The United States, therefore, might benefit by testing its foreign policy against the index’s findings, particularly for any "cognitive dissonance" between the USG’s image of a country that underpins that policy and the reality on the ground. For example, such cognitive dissonance may be present when it comes to Nigeria, although this may be changing. The Failed States Index puts Nigeria in critical condition since the country struggles with Boko Haram in the North, MEND in the South, and sectarian violence in the middle belt—while Abuja’s finances dwindle. Yet, at least publicly, our stance does not always reflect this reality. (It does reflect Nigeria’s strategic importance to the United States, including oil.) However, this dissonance becomes more troubling when you consider who is responsible for state failure. Daron Acemoblu and James Robinson write “these states collapse because they are ruled by what we call ‘extractive’ economic institutions, which destroy incentives, discourage innovation, and sap the talent of their citizens by creating a tilted playing field and robbing them of opportunities. These institutions are not in place by mistake but on purpose. They’re there for the benefit of elites who gain much from the extraction …at the expense of society.” That sounds like what Nigerian critics say about their own elites. It is to be hoped that U.S. policymakers make use of sources such as the Failed States Index as they shape the bilateral relationship.

The ongoing tragedy in eastern Congo is closely related to the history of genocide in Rwanda. Herman J. Cohen, former assistant secretary of state for Africa, former ambassador to Senegal and Gambia and once deputy chief of mission in Congo-Kinshasa, has just published a must-read article (gated): “Rwanda: Fifty Years of Ethnic Conflict on Steroids.” Cohen shows that the 1994 genocide in Rwanda was not a one-off event but part of an ethnic conflict that started in 1959. Its root causes included overpopulation, poverty, and bad colonial policies, especially with respect to sharpening ethnic differences and identities. He identifies three episodes of post-independence genocide in the Great Lakes region: 1972 in Burundi in which the Tutsis murdered 80,000 Hutus; 1994 in Rwanda in which the Hutus murdered some 800,000 Tutsis; and 1996 in eastern Congo (Tingi Tingi) when a Tutsi-dominated Rwandan army murdered 80,000 Hutus. Perpetrators of these massacres have largely acted with impunity. In a sober conclusion, Ambassador Cohen assesses the achievements of the Kagame government in Rwanda but concludes that the country remains inherently unstable because the ruling elites are only about fifteen percent of the population. With continuing ethnic tensions in Rwanda and Burundi, there is possibility of another round of genocide. The UN developed the doctrine of “the Responsibility to Protect” in part as a response to the earlier genocides. It provides a structure for an international response to a future genocide. Yet, as Cohen observes, the international response to the earlier genocides does not engender optimism about the future. There is awareness in the United States of the humanitarian disasters of eastern Congo. Ambassador Cohen’s article puts them in context even if it does nothing to reduce their horror. However, greater familiarity of just what has happened in the Great Lakes region might have the salutary consequence of building popular support for the doctrine of Responsibility to Protect.

On Friday I blogged about the UN Office for the Coordination of Humanitarian Affairs’ report that internally displaced people in Congo-Kinshasa number more than two million, mostly in North and South Kivu. I also cited a BBC report based on UN sources of Rwandan involvement with mutineers whose violence is engendering the displacement—a report vigorously denied by the Rwandan foreign minister.  Today, the respected human rights non-government organization (NGO) Human Rights Watch issued a press release stating credibly that Rwandan military officials are arming and supporting the mutiny of Gen . Bosco Ntaganda and a (supposedly) separate one by Col. Sultani Makenga.  HRW’s conclusions are based on on-the-ground interviews. HRW reports Ntaganda, Makenga, and their followers frequently crossing the border into Rwanda to avoid capture and to be supplied with weapons.  It also reports Rwandan soldiers impressing "volunteers" at cinemas and other public places for service with Ntaganda and Makenga. HRW also reports summary execution by Ntaganda’s forces of those who refuse to fight. The UN Security Council’s arms embargo on Congo prohibits providing weapons or ammunition to Ntaganda or Makenga.    The relevant resolution requires all states to prevent the direct or indirect supply of such ordinance by their citizens to “nongovernmental entities” operating in Congo. Parts of the Rwandan military appear to be contravening the UN Security Council resolution, notwithstanding the foreign minister’s protests. The question is, to what extent is Rwandan military support of Congolese mutineers occurring with the support of the Kagame government. Or whether it is simply looking the other way, or whether it cannot control its own military.  Whatever the answer, it is the people of the eastern Congo who are suffering.

The UN office for the Coordination of Humanitarian Affairs (OCHA) reports that internally displaced people (IDP) in Congo-Kinshasa numbers more than two million, as of March 31.  That is up from 1.7 million IDPs at the end of December. Most of this increase is in the two eastern provinces of North and South Kivu. The UN Stabilization Mission in Congo (MONUSCO) is stepping up efforts to protect civilians, especially in North Kivu, in the aftermath of a mutiny led by Bosco Ntaganda. Ntaganda is a Tutsi warlord whose forces had been incompletely incorporated into the regular Congolese army as part of a deal between Kinshasa and Kigali.  MONUSCO refers to "significant" displacement of civilians and refugee flows into Uganda and Rwanda. Luis Moreno-Ocampo, Prosecutor of the International Criminal Court (ICC) is seeking new charges against Ntaganda for war crimes. BBC reports cite UN sources of Rwandan involvement in training fighters engaged in the civil strife in eastern Congo, presumably associated with Ntaganda and the Tutsis.  This has resulted in a blistering denial by Rwanda’s foreign minister, who is bitterly critical of MONUSCO. She said, "This billion-dollar-a-year operation makes up one quarter of the UN’s entire peacekeeping budget, and yet it has been a failure from day one...MONUSCO has become a destabilizing influence, primarily concerned with keeping hold of its bloated budgets and justifying its ongoing existence." A useful analysis published by Pretoria’s Institute for Security Studies (ISS) recalls the role of armed groups associated with the Tutsis and the Hutus and the complex relations between the governments of Joseph Kabila in Kinshasa and Paul Kagame  in Kigali. It was Kigali, ISS argues, that appointed Ntaganda as the head of the Congrès National pour la Défense du Peuple (CNDP) that supports the Tutsis, especially against the Forces Démocratiques de Libération du Rwanda (FDLR), a Hutu group associated with the Rwanda genocide.  It is apparently Ntganda’s CNDP that has mutinied. The Rwandan genocide still casts a long shadow, and the people of eastern Congo continue to pay the price.

Despite the press focus on the credibility of Congo’s presidential elections, legislative elections also took place in November on the same day. While presidential elections were widely seen as fraudulent, including by opposition candidate, Etienne Tshisekedi, Kabila was sworn in as president. However, perhaps in response to international criticism, the Congolese electoral commission suspended counting of the legislative ballots in December. The electoral commission promised the results would be posted on January 18. Now, however, the commission is saying that the results will be available January 26. The Roman Catholic Bishops Conference, which fielded twenty thousand election observers, in the meantime, has issued a highly critical statement: “What is happening right now in the tallying of the legislative election results is unacceptable. It brings shame on our country.” The conference went on to urge the electoral commission to reform or resign. Since January 5, elections experts from the National Democratic Institute and the International Federation for Electoral Systems (PDF), at the request of Congolese political figures, have been working to “assess the feasibility of conducting a review of the results tabulation processes of the November 28 elections.” However, today’s statement suggests they will have their work cut out for them. Despite the Bishops Conference statement, the Congolese population appears to be largely indifferent, in contrast to the Congolese Diaspora in Europe and the U.S. that has denounced the elections. The indifference probably reflects the desperate poverty of most Congolese and perhaps fear of repression from the Kabila regime. As for the Catholic Church, it does not have a monopoly on Christianity, with the rapid growth of protestant and Pentecostal churches in Congo. Nevertheless, when the legislative election results are announced, there is the possibility of local unrest if the proclaimed winners are not seen as credible.

For Africa watchers, this morning’s attention is focused on Nigeria. Over the weekend, murder of Christians continued, ostensibly by an Islamic radical group, Boko Haram. Various ‘Christian’ spokesmen have threatened retaliation against Muslims and mosques have been attacked. But, in some areas, there are grassroots efforts to forestall religious conflict, with Christians protecting Muslims while they pray and Muslims guarding Christian churches. While the nation has gone on strike, President Goodluck Jonathan sought to mollify public anger at his elimination of the fuel subsidy, including by cutting government salaries (including his own). Preliminary reports are that the strike has shut-down Lagos, Abuja, and Kano and protestor deaths are being reported from Lagos and Kano. I have heard nothing from Port Harcourt and the oil patch except that police allegedly prevented a protest from taking place in Bayelsa state. Personalities ranging from the president to literary icon Chinua Achebe are saying that the current situation recalls the run-up to the 1967-70 Biafra war. But, information is too incomplete, and too much is in flux for meaningful comment today. So, instead of Nigeria, I want to return the focus to the Democratic Republic of the Congo (DRC) and the aftermath of the November presidential elections. To recap: the incumbent, Joseph Kabila, defeated challenger Etienne Tshisekedi in elections characterized as “too flawed to be credible” by international and domestic observers, including the Roman Catholic Church, which had some thirty thousand observers in the field. The DRC supreme court, seen as in the pocket of Kabila, upheld the incumbent’s victory. Tshisekedi bitterly contested the announced results, and went so far as to have himself sworn in as president at about the same time as Kabila’s ceremony. The stage appeared to be set for a major clash that could re-ignite civil war. Yet, as of now, little has happened. The international community, with little stomach for further intervention in Congo, restricted itself to calling for “dialogue,” far from the robust stand it took in the Ivory Coast standoff between Alassane Ouattara and Laurent Gbagbo that resulted in a civil war. But, in Congo, while there continues to be high levels of violence, especially in the east, it does not seem to be related directly to the election results, and the population appears to have moved on. Only the Congolese Diaspora has been vocal. Of course, the international and domestic reactions probably re-enforce each other: the international community is unlikely to move when there is little domestic reaction, and domestic reaction may be more muted because of the tepid international voice. Future developments might ignite a stronger popular reaction. But, for now, how to account for the apparent passivity of the Congolese population in the aftermath of flawed elections? Part of the answer may be Kabila’s relatively skillful use of repression – enough to paralyze the opposition but not so much that it produced a backlash. More fundamentally, as Adam Nossiter pointed out in the New York Times, the deep and pervasive poverty of the Congolese population means that most people are more concerned about feeding their families than about political activity or flawed election results. Of necessity, this is speculation. But the question is worth asking. Why are some populations quiescent following flawed or stolen elections (Nigeria in 2007 and Congo now) while in others there is violent protest and the prospect of civil war (Kenya in 2007 or Zimbabwe in 2008). In Nigeria and Congo, the population historically has been largely alienated from government – any government. (In 2011, this may have changed in some parts of Nigeria, but not others.) In Kenya and Zimbabwe, with greater institutional development, however, government historically has mattered more to people. Maybe that has something to do with the different reactions to flawed elections, along with ethnic rivalries and a host of other issues. lt is an endlessly repeated cliché that African countries are all different – and their response to seemingly similar political developments reflects their own specific history and circumstances.