Africa's World War: Congo, the Rwandan Genocide, and the Making of a Continental Catastrophe

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Africa's World War: Congo, the Rwandan Genocide, and the Making of a Continental Catastrophe Page 30

by Gerard Prunier


  Kinshasa’s friends: godfathers and discreet supporters.

  The main player in Kabila’s survival scenario was President dos Santos, and his overriding motivation was the increasingly tense domestic situation in Angola itself, where the Mission des Observateurs des Nations Unies en Angola (MONUA) had been incapable of bridging the gap of distrust and hatred between the government and UNITA. But although the distrust was mutual, the attitude of the international community toward “these two appalling adversaries [was] far from even-handed.”38 The international community did not really seem to want to acknowledge that the November 1994 Lusaka Peace Protocol had been the result of military exhaustion and diplomatic arm-twisting rather than any genuine desire for reconciliation. New York and the three members of the Lusaka Troika39 acted as if everything was normal, as if the MPLA was a democratically elected government and UNITA an unreasonable spoiler. MPLA violations were simply “not seen,” while UNITA reactions to them were immediately pointed out as a sign of ill will.

  The first and probably most important violation concerned the security of Jonas Savimbi and his close associates. After the 1992 massacre of UNITA forces in Luanda it was difficult for the rebel movement to trust the MPLA, especially since, although it learned new “politically correct” tricks, it seemed to have lost nothing of its old thuggish ways. There were many examples, such as the time three top UNITA men who had just given a press conference at the Méridien Hotel in Luanda were trapped in their elevator, which shot up to the twenty-third floor and then crashed to the ground.40 Then there was the suspicious death of the famous UNITA general Arlindo Pena (“Ben Ben”), who passed away in a Johannesburg hospital on October 19, 1998, two days after the MPLA media had announced his death. Immediately after his demise the FAA General Staff sent a special delegation to South Africa to fetch the corpse and prevent the autopsy the family was demanding from being carried out.41 These were the famous cases, but there were many other “ordinary” ones: “In the provinces of Huila, Kwanza Norte and Kwanza Sul, where UNITA has handed over the administration to the MPLA, hundreds of its supporters were arrested in February 1998. This followed a more general ‘destruction programme’ in which [were] . . . assassinated hundreds of UNITA militants and arrested another 400 since May 1997.”42

  Given such a track record it is hardly surprising that Savimbi was extremely reluctant to come to Luanda in person, especially since his personal status, which was eventually voted by Parliament after lengthy delays, was in total contradiction with the sanctions voted against UNITA at the international level and did not give him any security.43 Demobilization was another one-sided charade. Over 50,000 of UNITA’s 75,000 combatants had been demobilized by March 1998, but the MPLA had demobilized none of its soldiers. In addition, there were over 4,000 highly trained mercenaries classified as “security guards” who protected the diamond mining sites whom the government refused to include as combatants to be demobilized, although they, and the Rapid Intervention Police, were probably the best troops Luanda had. The same double standard applied in the case of diamond production; UNITA had surrendered all its diamond sites to the government by January 1998, expecting to get in exchange bundles of shares from the foreign companies that were buying the permits.44 But the shares never materialized. The attitude of the international community remained completely biased against UNITA, no matter what actually happened on the ground. In June 1998 MONUA mediator Alioune Blondin Beye said, “It is abnormal that Savimbi’s party remains armed” without any mention of the MPLA non-demobilization or of any possible UNITA security concern,45 while U.S. Assistant Secretary of State for African Affairs Susan Rice declared in a speech symbolically given at the Agostinho Neto University in Luanda, “UNITA and Mr. Savimbi are undoubtedly the main causes of the derailing of the peace process and of the movement back towards war.”46 As Savimbi was later to remark, this was an attitude of “winner takes all, loser loses all.”47 So Savimbi “did not comply” with the terms of Lusaka by not putting his head on the block, and security started to slip. After June 1998 UNITA obviously decided that a renegotiation of Lusaka was not possible without war, and sporadic fighting erupted in Lunda Norte, Malanje, and Cuanza Sul provinces. Over twenty thousand refugees crossed the border into Katanga.48

  It is in that context that Kabarebe’s lightning attack on Kinshasa has to be seen. For dos Santos, having a loose cannon regime in the DRC brought back the ghost of Mobutu’s pro-UNIT A policies, at least potentially. And that was too much of a risk to run. But then, why did it take him so long (nineteen days) to make up his mind? Both the Rwandese and the Ugandans later claimed that they had had ironclad guarantees from Luanda that it would let them overthrow Kabila without interference.49 It seems that these claims were largely due to wishful thinking. President dos Santos later complained to a visiting diplomat,

  I just received a letter from President Museveni three or four days after they had launched their offensive. He was telling me not to worry, that everything would be all right. Now what is this? How would he have taken it if I had sent a large military force right up to his border and just notified him by letter two or three days later?50

  Such neglect of accepted protocol had a far more serious underside. There were strong rumors that both Museveni and Kagame had been in contact with UNIT A prior to August 2, 1998. Because these contacts did materialize later it is tempting to project them back in time, although I have not been able to substantiate the matter. But what is beyond any doubt is that there were close contacts between Arthur Z’Ahidi Ngoma and FLEC, UNITA’s ally in the Cabinda Enclave. And since 58 percent of Angola’s oil was coming out of the diminutive territory, Luanda was particularly nervous about anything having to do with Cabinda. Z’Ahidi Ngoma had met the FLECFAC leader Enriques Nzita Tiago in Paris in July through the agency of the notorious French influence peddler Michel Pacary.51 Z’Ahidi Ngoma had promised FLEC that he would support their cause politically and perhaps even militarily in case of victory. By early August FLEC troops were poised to cross the DRC border and to help Kabarebe, but the FAA moved faster. The FLEC–Z’Ahidi Ngoma connection was already cause enough to worry Luanda. But in addition there was also the behavior of Commander James when he occupied Kitona. There were UNIT A troops in the camp and also former “Zulu” Lissouba militiamen. James did not hesitate to take them on board, a move certainly due more to short-term opportunism than to any kind of long-term views. But was this not the main reason for Luanda’s concern? Since the “rebels” and their backers seemed to have no other guiding principle than short-term lunges for the jugular, what could stop them from allying themselves with UNITA later on? Dos Santos had no security guarantee worth the name, and he had the practical proof of reckless behavior on the part of the invaders. What finally tipped the balance in favor of intervention was the resolute attitude of FAA Commander in Chief João de Matos. As dos Santos later told a CIA visitor, “He [de Matos] told me: ‘Mr President, if you do not give me the order to intervene in the DRC I will do it anyway, with or without your approval.’”52 Dos Santos added jokingly for the benefit of his American guest, “You know, in Africa, when your Army Chief talks to you like that, you listen!”53

  To sum up Angola’s position, one could say that the uncertainty surrounding the aims and alliances of the Rwando-rebels was not acceptable for the MPLA, who knew that its confrontational policy toward UNIT A was bound to restart the war and who could not run the risk of seeing the rebel movement reacquire its old rear bases in the Congo. And then there were two other overriding considerations pleading for an anti-Rwandese choice. First, if Luanda had let Kabarebe and his friends take power in Kinshasa it would have had no control over them.54 On the contrary, a militarily impotent and diplomatically ostracized Kabila was an ideal tool as Congolese head of state since his weakness would keep him pliable. Second, taking an even longer view of things, the MPLA was weighing the closeness between Museveni and Kagame on the one side and the South African leadership on the
other. Of course the ANC was in power now, but South Africa remained South Africa, apartheid or no apartheid. Luanda knew that the ANC was in touch with UNITA55 and that, just as the old white leadership had dreamed, the new black leadership saw Katanga and even the whole southern African cone as a natural sphere for South Africa’s economic expansion. In a way, now that the psychopolitical block of apartheid had been removed, this made South Africa even more dangerous because it enjoyed universal recognition and support. Angola, which in spite of its large and well-equipped army and its growing oil-based economic clout remained a war-devastated country, preferred to move in close alliance with Zimbabwe, which shared its fear and resentment of the South African giant.

  The case for Zimbabwe’s intervention was less obvious, for two reasons: it had no security stake in the DRC and it had, on the contrary, many domestic problems that seemed to preclude the idea of foreign adventures. With rich mineral and agricultural resources, a small but coherent industrial base, and a sophisticated service sector, Zimbabwe at the beginning of the 1990s had the potential of being a small regional economic wonder. Of course, there were certain structural problems: an overweight public sector (37 percent of GDP), a very unequal land and wealth repartition wherein the white minority retained a socially dangerous predominance, and a tendency to overspend, which had led to dangerous rates of inflation (26 percent during 1990–1995). But the country retained many comparative advantages, not least its highly skilled workforce (by African standards), a dynamic civil society, an active stock exchange, and a solid infrastructure in terms of roads, banks, and telecommunications. But two things triggered the Zimbabwean economy’s downturn: the first one was a tendency toward monetary over-supply, which got even worse during 1997, causing an inflation rate of over 30 percent (the Zimbabwean dollar fell from 14 to 25 to the U.S. dollar). Panicked by the consequences, especially vis-á-vis the already cool IMF, the government resorted to massive tax increases, pushing down economic growth for the year to less than 0.5 percent. This resulted in food riots in January 1998, which were brutally repressed by the police.56 The other problem was the November 1997 announcement by President Mugabe that he would confiscate about fifteen hundred white-owned farms and distribute the land to poor peasants. This was in fact cheap demagoguery because, although the land problem was real enough, previous attempts at “land reform” had only served to confiscate white farms to give them to rich cronies of the Zimbabwe African National Union and the Patriot Front (ZANU/PF), with poor peasants none the better off for it.57 By June 1998 the farms had not yet been confiscated, but the announcement had been enough to scare off potential investors and to cause tobacco companies (tobacco being one of Zimbabwe’s main cash crops) to switch to planting in a variety of other Asian and African countries, leaving a depressed market in Harare. The budget deficit was running at 10 percent of GDP, the currency plunged another 13 percent, and the 300,000-strong Zimbabwe Congress of Trade Union threatened to organize a general strike over new tax increases and what it termed “government parasitism.”58

  Strangely enough, it is that dismal domestic economic situation that goes a long way toward explaining Zimbabwe’s intervention in the Congolese crisis. Harare had a large financial stake in the DRC,59 and though most of it could be classified under the heading of “crony capitalism,” President Mugabe’s fuzzy populist vision probably saw it as a fine opportunity for the growth of Zimbabwean business, provided he could keep the South Africans out of the honey pot.60 As early as July 1997, a few weeks after Kabila’s victory, Zimbabwe Defence Industries (ZDI)61 had landed a small ($500,000) military supply contract. Things developed quickly when Philip Chiyangwa, a well-connected Zimbabwean businessman, arranged a $45 million loan to Kinshasa. It financed vehicle, fuel, and foodstuff imports.62 From there business grew quickly. By early 1998 ZDI had received orders from the Kinshasa regime totaling about $140 million, and large mining concessions were being negotiated.63 Because President Mugabe shared Luanda’s doubts about South Africa’s long-term economic and political aims and because he saw the Congo as Zimbabwe’s land of opportunity, this made it imperative for the Kabila regime to survive, debts, commitments, contracts, and all. The presence of South African Secret Service agents in Goma only served to reinforce the doubts about Pretoria’s position in the conflict,64 and the tension with South Africa over the Congo became such that President Mugabe himself felt obliged to deny it publicly.65

  To carry the day at the SADC Luanda and Harare needed another ally that would look more innocent than they. President Nujoma’s Namibia was the ideal patsy. Ever since its breakup with UNITA in 1976, SWAPO had remained in the political shadow of the MPLA.66 Although Namibia was economically quite prosperous,67 it was a mere flyspeck on the flank of the South African giant and for that reason kept nudging ever closer to Luanda. UNITA infiltrations in the north even forced the Namibian Defense Force to integrate its operational plans with those of the FAA and to operate as far north as Mavinga, five hundred kilometers into Angola, to protect its border.68 Thus President Nujoma was in no position to remain aloof from the DRC crisis, and his diplomatic and military support for the Angolan-Zimbabwean intervention was almost automatic.

  Between them Mugabe and dos Santos (with Nujoma in tow) rode rough-shod over the Pretoria-inspired SADC diplomatic niceties and brought their guns along. South Africa complained, but not to the extent of openly siding with the Rwanda- and Uganda-backed “rebels.”69 Although it was essentially Angola and Zimbabwe who saved Kabila, there were other friendly alignments with their camp that were less remarked upon.

  One was with the Sudan. The Congolese involvement of the Sudan was essentially motivated by its confrontation with Uganda.70 This had led Khartoum to side with the falling Mobutu regime in 1996–1997. But Kabila’s victory did not put an end to Sudanese military activity in Congo’s Province Orientale. The March 1997 slaughter of WNBLF forces in the Yei ambush had diminished the proxy fighting capacity the Sudanese had been trying to build. But they did not give up and kept resupplying the remnants of both the WNBLF and UNRF II.71 In addition, they continued to welcome the hard-pressed Rwandese former Interahamwe to Juba, and in March 1998 Col. Tharcisse Renzaho, the former prefect of Kigali, and Colonel Ntimiragabo, the former Rwandese Garde Présidentielle commander, arrived in Juba from Nairobi to reorganize them.72 When the war broke out in August they were joined by Idi Amin’s son Taban who came to recruit Former Uganda National Army (FUNA) Ugandan West Nilers; both units were later sent to bolster the defense of Kindu in Maniema. When Kindu fell in October a number of Rwandese and Ugandan rebels were captured by RCD-RPA forces; they were often described to the press as “Sudanese” since they had come from Juba.73

  Then by October the pro-Kinshasa alliance was reinforced by Chadian troops and Libyan aircraft. But the attitudes of the three countries differed in terms of acknowledging their involvement. Khartoum flatly denied any form of military presence, simply invoking “diplomatic and political support” for the Kabila regime.74 Tripoli simply did not talk to journalists, and Ndjamena declared openly that it had sent an expeditionary force of one thousand men to the DRC “to support the legitimate government.”75

  Kinshasa’s foes

  The most determined of all these countries was of course Rwanda and, given the security argument later advanced by Kigali to justify its intervention in the Congo,76 we must pause briefly and try to assess the security situation of Rwanda in early August 1998. As we saw in the preceding chapter, the end of 1997 had been rather bad. There had been regular Interahamwe-ALIR attacks since October 1997 and they had increased at the beginning of 1998,77 a situation that led the RPA to reorganize its forces in the northwest and to put them under the command of Col. Kayumba Nyamwasa, one of the best high-ranking officers in the Rwandese army. Some of the attacks were particularly atrocious, such as the ambush of a taxi minivan at Bulinga (Gitarama Province) on December 17, 1997, in which nineteen travelers were burned alive in their vehicle, and the January
19, 1998, attack on a bus transporting workers from the Bralirwa brewery just outside Gisenyi, in which forty-six people were killed and thirty wounded. To these the RPA responded with a policy of brutal counterinsurgency. Since the abacengezi (infiltrators) were trying to recruit the ex-FAR who had been repatriated in November 1996, the army often took to killing them preventively. It also cut down all the banana plantations over a two-hundred-meter swathe on both sides of the road so as to prevent ambushes. This further restricted the peasants’ food supplies in an already land-starved agricultural environment where calorie intake in 1998 was 30 percent lower than before the genocide. In spite of the official slogans about “national reconciliation” the Tutsi-Hutu community tensions were worse than ever and the presence of Hutu ministers in the government was a piece of window-dressing that did not convince anybody.78 The regime did not help when its only answer was to increase the degree of military repression and to concentrate all the power into the hands of General Kagame.79 The government bought Mil Mi-17 helicopter gunships from Ukraine and hired mercenary pilots, who operated without too much care for the safety of civilian populations. The public execution by firing squad of twenty-two génocidaires on April 22, 1998, which might have been understandable four years earlier, worsened the political climate even further.80 On May 8 the UN Human Rights mission in Rwanda was suspended by New York after a stormy visit by Kofi Annan to Kigali. But strangely enough, what probably contributed to push Kigali beyond the point of no return was the murder of former RPF minister Seth Sendashonga.81

 

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