The Dynamics of Violence in Central Africa. Rene Lemarchand

that the result has been to promote huge social and economic inequalities, along with corresponding “genuine and extreme grievances,” and thus pave the way for the exclusionary policies that lie at the heart of ethnic violence in the Great Lakes.

      The Herbst thesis has the merit of looking at a range of variables seldom taken into account by political scientists: the combined effect on state failure of low population densities, weak and artificial boundaries, and the resultant inability of the state to control its hinterland; this, he adds, is in striking contrast with the historical record of European states, all of which have experienced “the brutality of interstate war” as a major ingredient of state consolidation.²¹ On each of these counts, however, the recent history of the Great Lakes offers massive counter-factual evidence. The region claims the highest population density in the continent; the precolonial boundaries of the interlacustrine kingdoms of Rwanda and Burundi were fairly well delineated, at least by comparison with the rest of Africa; control of these states over the hinterland was relatively well established; and the “brutality of interstate war” was a major feature of their precolonial histories, though by no means comparable to the devastation caused by the internal and interstate wars currently ravaging the region. What Herbst leaves out of the picture is the impact of colonial and postcolonial history. He leaves out what Crawford Young has so ably brought into view—the enduring disabilities arising from the impact of the colonial state on African societies.²² Predictably, Herbst makes no reference to the multifaceted crises of exclusion and social marginalization around which much of this discussion revolves and for which there are many parallels in the continent. Only by confusing optimism with fantasy and reality with illusion, can one take comfort in the view, implicit in the Herbst thesis, that the violent confrontations in former Belgian Africa will ultimately bring to the region the benefits of state consolidation along a bloodstained path similar to the one historically taken by European states.

      Policy Implications

      By postulating exclusion as a crucial dimension of the Great Lakes crisis, we do not mean to suggest that its conceptual opposite is the only solution to the region's woes. Inclusion is a theme that admits many variations. It can easily mask a policy of cooptation and serve as a substitute for a genuine sharing of power; carried to an extreme, with little or no attention paid to contextual realities, the result may be chronic instability, as happened in Burundi in 1995, following the so-called Convention of Government of 1994. The diffusion of ethnic violence across national boundaries, sustained by external forces, imposes severe limitations on the benefits of power sharing.

      The case of Burundi is instructive in this respect. A key provision of the precarious peace deal worked out in Arusha (Tanzania) in July 2000, through Nelson Mandela's painstaking facilitating efforts, involves a broadly based three-year transitional government incorporating the representatives of fifteen parties, almost evenly distributed between predominantly Tutsi and Hutu parties. For the next eighteen months a Tutsi (Pierre Buyoya) will serve as president and a Hutu (Domitien Ndayizeye) as vice president; during the following eighteen-month period, the roles will be reversed. This power-sharing arrangement is bolstered by more fundamental concessions to the Hutu majority, such as a commitment to restructuring the all-Tutsi army on the basis of ethnic parity. Demands which until recently were non-negotiable have now been met, such as the presence of a 1,400-strong South African peace keeping force; others will be negotiated in months ahead, such as the restructuring of the army, the dismantling of regroupment camps, and the appointment of an international judicial commission to address issues of justice and impunity. Incentives to cooperate go beyond the allocation of portfolios to a wide array of coalition partners. To the extent that the Burundi state is becoming less hegemonic and more open to the demands of the Hutu majority, it has gone a long way towards promoting a climate of trust. Nor has the international community faltered in its efforts to reward cooperative behavior, as shown by the promise of a generous aid package from the European community ($440 million).

      Despite efforts to widen the scope of Hutu-Tutsi cooperation, the Arusha framework faces an uncertain future. Inclusionary strategies so far have failed to convince the leaders of two extremist Hutu rebel groups, the FDD and the Palipehutu-FLN, to lay down their arms. That their obduracy is in part motivated by the financial and military support they have come to expect from external actors—whether from Zimbabwe or Congo-Kinshasa or from their ethnic kinsmen in the Congo or Tanzania—is reasonably clear. Equally plain is that Hutu extremism is bound to generate a response in kind from Tutsi hard-liners. Expectations of strategic assistance from external actors are not limited to any one group. They constitute major incentives for extremists at both ends of the ethnic spectrum not to cooperate in power-sharing arrangements.

      If so, there are compelling reasons for encouraging the full implementation of the Lusaka accords (1998), especially as regards the withdrawal of foreign armed forces, the disarming of the so-called “negative forces” (the interahamwe militias and Mai-Mai factions), and the resumption of an inter-Congolese dialogue. The success of the Arusha accords is intimately linked to a global settlement in the Congo. Only if the rebel factions in Burundi are deprived of the support of secondary level participants (i.e., Zimbabwe or Congo-Kinshasa) will they join in the peace process or at least desist from violence. The same is true of the rebel RCD factions in the Congo, currently supported by Uganda and Rwanda.

      Given the considerable economic stakes they have in the conflict, neither Rwanda nor Uganda are likely to envisage a withdrawal of their armies unless faced with vigorous pressure from the international community. Though providing convenient justification for their presence in eastern Congo, security concerns are of secondary importance for Presidents Kagame and Museveni; far more significant as a policy imperative are the enormous profits derived from the wholesale plunder of the Congo's mineral wealth. This is where a major reappraisal of strategic priorities is needed from donors, specifically from the World Bank, the United States, and Great Britain. By turning a blind eye to the “imperial” designs of Rwanda and Uganda in eastern Congo, while at the same time rewarding their economic performance, donors are in effect subsidizing their war effort. The time has come to recognize the fundamental contradiction involved in the pro forma support of the Lusaka accords and assistance policies designed to undermine their full implementation.

      A more fundamental contradiction exists between the ethos of participatory politics and the exclusionary implications of the foreign-linked clientelism operating in much of the Great Lakes region. Reinforcing the neopatrimonial features of their domestic politics, Rwanda and Uganda have developed multiple linkages—economic, military, and political—with their respective client factions, but these linkages extend far beyond the boundaries of the Great Lakes. Corporate interests in the West and elsewhere in the world also have stakes in the rents generated through the illicit exploitation of the Congo's resources. The unpalatable truth is that the multiplicity of interests in support of the regional status quo far exceed the pressures of the United Nations for implementing the Lusaka accords. Nonetheless, no matter how daunting the obstacles ahead, Lusaka is the only roadmap for charting a new course towards peace. From all the evidence, this basic truth has yet to sink in among certain key members of the international community.

      Part II

      Rwanda and Burundi: The Genocidal Twins

       Chapter 3

      Ethnicity as Myth

      Ethnicity is never what it seems. What some see as ancestral atavism, others see as a typically modern phenomenon, anchored in colonial rule. Where neo-Marxists detect class interests parading in traditional garb, mainstream scholars unveil imagined communities. And whereas many see ethnicity as the bane of the African continent, others think that it could provide the basis for a moral social contract and that it contains within itself the seeds of openness and accountability.

      So overwhelming is the evidence that points to the demonic face of ethnicity that it is tempting to forget its more benign traits. Yet not everything about ethnicity translates into bloodshed and genocide or into frenzied ethnic cleansing. Ethnic communities also generate responsible, civic-minded leaders, anxious to speak on behalf of their constituents and willing to protect them against the abuses of the state. The sense of belonging to an ethnic