Rwandan Vulnerability: The State’s Failed Attempt to Eliminate Ethnicity
By Lieutenant Colonel Casey L. Taylor, U.S. Marine Corps
Editor's Note: Lieutenant Colonel Taylor's thesis won the FAO Association writing award at the U.S. Air War College. The Journal is pleased to bring you this outstanding scholarship.
Disclaimer: The views expressed in this academic research paper are those of the author and do not reflect the official policy or position of the US government, the Department of Defense, or Air University. In accordance with Air Force Instruction 51-303, it is not copyrighted, but is the property of the United States government.
Introduction
In April 1994, an East African country the size of Massachusetts erupted in chaos as peasant farmers used any means available to exterminate their cattle-herding neighbors with extraordinary efficiency over a period of one-hundred days. The distinction between the Hutu farmers and Tutsi cattle-herders of Rwanda is more social than ethnic, yet their minor differences, perpetuated first by Belgian colonists, proved sufficient to fuel a genocide from which the country may never fully recover. Rwanda’s primary, long-term mechanism for repairing societal division following the ethnically-based slaughter was a campaign to eradicate unique ethnic identities through state-enforced nationalism. Despite producing notable security and economic gains, Rwanda’s post-genocide policy of national unity and reconciliation has failed to adequately address Tutsi-Hutu animosity, thus leaving the country vulnerable to further socio-ethnic violence and complicating U.S. relations in East Africa.
In the late 1800’s, Tutsis were identified as the cattle-herding elite that comprised the king’s court, while non-elite farmers and cattle-herders were called Hutu. This social distinction began evolving into racial distinction under Belgian colonists beginning in 1916. “The culmination of this process of racialization was the census of 1933-34, in which every Rwandan was assigned an ‘ethno-racial’ label (15 percent Tutsi, 84 percent Hutu, 1 percent Twa) and issued with an ID card upon which the label was inscribed.” This readily identifiable distinction was important because Tutsi were considered more capable and “European” than the Hutu. As a result, “the best jobs in all sectors of the country under the hegemony of European colonialism were given to the Tutsis. Thus, the prevailing notion of being Tutsi was synonymous with privileges of wealth and power.” Twenty-five years later, as Rwandan independence appeared likely, the ruling Tutsi minority and disenfranchised Hutu majority began considering how the end of Belgian colonization would impact their respective roles in government, with Tutsi favoring the status quo, and Hutus desiring change. Prior to decolonization, the Belgians ultimately shifted support away from the Tutsi monarchy in favor of the Hutu majority in a bid for self-preservation. The political discourse that followed resulted in significant blood shed in 1959, propelled the Hutus to power in 1961, and set conditions for civil war in October 1990.
While agreement for a cease fire was reached in November 1990, thousands of Tutsi civilians were killed as negotiations, and eventually the Arusha Accords, stretched into the late Summer of 1993. With return rights of Rwandan refugees and a multi-party transitional government finally approved within the Accords, the United Nations Assistance Mission for Rwanda was established in October 1993 to provide oversight. However, the promise of the Arusha Accords evaporated days later when the Hutu president of Burundi was assassinated by Tutsis. As a result, anti-Tutsi rhetoric grew more intense and key signatories backed out of the Arusha Accords. The point of no return was reached in early April 1994 when the Hutu president of Rwanda (along with the new president of Burundi) was killed when his plane was shot down by unknown actors, thus beginning the Rwandan genocide.
Thesis
Despite producing notable security and economic gains, Rwanda’s post-genocide policy of national unity and reconciliation has failed to adequately address Tutsi-Hutu animosity, thus leaving the country vulnerable to further socio-ethnic violence and complicating U.S. relations in East Africa.
Ethnicity in Rwanda
To fully comprehend Rwanda’s need for social reconciliation, a more insightful appreciation of the genocide’s magnitude and volatility is required. In his 2009 article, “Scourge of Racism: Genocide in Rwanda,” Kenneth White writes, “people of all ages and gender were killed. Best friends, family members, and church members turned on each other, using whatever weapons available. Moderate Hutus, politicians, human rights activists, journalists, and clergy were massacred. The very social fabric of the Rwandan society was torn asunder.” Many scholarly works on the genocide conclude that approximately 800,000 Rwandans were murdered from April to July 1994 across the countryside. Capturing significantly less attention in scholarship is the estimated number of perpetrators that participated in the state-sanctioned chaos, a data point that may prove as compelling as the number of victims when dissecting the scope of the atrocity and the feasibility of planned reconciliation initiatives.
While estimates vary widely depending on the source, scholar Jason Stearns approximates 200,000 Hutus played an active role in the mass killing. Enabled by government coordination, road blocks, house-to-house searches, and hate-filled radio propaganda, tens of thousands of Hutu roamed unimpeded across the Rwandan hillsides publicly executing their countrymen with rudimentary weapons and farm tools “...because they appeared on a pre-written list; were personally known to their attackers; or because of ID cards.” Precious few remained untouched by the catastrophe after July 1994, either as a victim, witness, perpetrator, affected family member, internally displaced person, or refugee. Many fell into more than one category, making the notions of criminality and victimhood, apology and forgiveness that much more complicated.
For many outside observers, the Rwandan crisis began in the Spring of 1994 and ended soon thereafter when the Tutsi-led Rwandan Patriotic Front (RPF) emerged victorious over their Hutu attackers and installed an interim government. Yet, this narrow view masks a tenuous history, and future, of violence, oppression, gross human rights violations, and mass murder in the name of power politics, not just ethnicity. Paul Kagame, Rwanda’s current president and de-facto leader since the end of the genocide, noted in 2014: “the world has done a huge disservice to Rwandans and the memory of those who died by thinking that the genocide was just an event that had no aftermath. This is something that left us with an aftermath that you have to deal with on a daily basis. That will probably go on for decades.” In short, a generation removed from the genocide, we still have little understanding of how, and more importantly why, events unfolded in 1994, and the extent to which the government resorted to violence of their own to restore and maintain stability.
The official effort to reconcile produced the policy of national unity and reconciliation, a sweeping initiative to unify the country and shed the Tutsi-Hutu ethnic identities that had caused conflict since the days of colonial rule. The goal was “one Rwanda for all Rwandans.” The state, ruled almost exclusively by the Tutsi minority since the conclusion of the genocide, sought to completely rebuild not just the physical infrastructure and government, but their entire national identity in order to stem further ethnic violence and restore their credibility on the international stage. So horrific were the tragedy’s effects, “some people were already suggesting to cut the small land into a Hutuland and a Tutsiland, so deep was the divide that many feared it could not be bridged.” Despite such concerns, the ruling RPF set forth on an extraordinarily ambitious course to reconcile the Tutsi-Hutu relationship while the world watched.
National unity and reconciliation was pursued through the establishment of memorial sites and annual commemorative services; the adoption of “...new national symbols (flag, anthem, and emblem)”; changing the names of sites where atrocities occurred; and, enhanced legal protections that “...criminalized public references to ethic identity...as well as ethnic divisionism and trivializing the genocide.” These endeavors were supported by the locally-operated gacaca courts to hold Hutu perpetrators accountable in front of their neighbors, and the ingando re-education camps for Hutu genocidaires released from prison. On the surface, results over the last twenty years, since widespread violence ceased in 2000, have been largely positive. Rwanda is one of the most stable and secure states in Africa, and as a result, their economy is out-pacing the majority of their neighbors. While scholarly analysis on recent economic trends in Rwanda is lacking, available raw data indicates promising growth. According to the African Development Bank, “real GDP growth reached 6.1% in 2017 and was estimated at 7.2% in 2018, supported by strong growth in services...and industry..., particularly manufacturing.” The African Development Bank also reported favorable data regarding the fiscal deficit, inflation, public sector debt, exchange rates, and import/export balances, all indicative of an encouraging, but still developing, low-income economy. Data from the Heritage Foundation’s 2019 Index of Economic Freedom generally agrees with reports from the African Development Bank regarding Rwanda’s economic vitality, ranking it 32 out of the 186 countries they assessed (just below Austria).
While the policy of national unity and reconciliation has arguably been the catalyst for Rwanda’s security and economic development, the expense to society was post-genocide justice and accountability. The RPF’s plan relies upon ordinary rural citizens being so encouraged with the promise of financial opportunity that they will overlook the unresolved socio-ethnic tensions lurking beneath the surface since colonial rule. The telling caution offered by author Jeremy Sarkin in 2001 remains relevant today: “how a society deals with its past has a major determining influence on whether that society will achieve long-term peace and stability.” This study will now present evidence that Rwanda’s unwillingness to address root causes of the civil war and subsequent genocide have, while producing notable economic growth and security in the interim period, ultimately made the country less stable for the long-term.
In practice, reconciliation means the Hutu are expected to confess to their crimes and their Tutsi victims must forgive and forget. The penalty for either Hutu or Tutsi failing to uphold their respective reconciliation responsibilities is both swift and severe. The RPF understands that the appearance of successful reconciliation among Rwandans is important in the portrayal of a safe and stable country, one that is well-governed and ambitiously poised for foreign investment and international aid. Fundamental in their approach to Rwanda’s “psychological infrastructure” are beliefs that all Tutsi are victims, but not all victims will receive justice; and, all Hutu are perpetrators, but not all will be held accountable. The Rwandan concept for reconciliation presents a paradox in that ethnicity is both a critical component of public identity as a victim or perpetrator and a topic that is off-limits for public discourse. This represents the fatal flaw of Rwanda’s policy of national unity and reconciliation. While a fierce stifling of open dialogue has largely quelled wholesale violence and allowed Rwanda to focus on economic gains, it has failed to address the Tutsi-Hutu tensions that led to civil war and genocide in the first place. Noted Rwanda historian, professor, and author Susan Thomson writes of the policy: “on paper, it is a set of mechanisms that aim to promote unity between Tutsi and Hutu...in practice, it disguises the government’s efforts to control its population while working to consolidate the political power of the ruling Rwandan Patriotic Front... .” Rwandan professor Mahmoud Mamdani offers a similar view: “after 1994, the Tutsi want justice above all else, and the Hutu democracy above all else. The minority fears democracy. The majority fears justice. The minority fears that democracy is a mask for finishing an unfinished genocide. The majority fears the demand for justice is a minority ploy to usurp power forever.”
In a report released in 2000, the Organization of African Unity ominously concluded: “no majority will forever accept minority rule.” Therein rests the primary source of tension in Rwanda, where the power imbalance and political marginalization only grows stronger. Of a population exceeding twelve million, less than two million are Tutsi, yet their small minority crowds nearly every political space and source of power or influence a full twenty-five years after the RPF’s civil war victory. The prohibition on discussions of ethnicity prevents public challenges to the ethnic imbalance in government and serves to further consolidate the minority Tutsi grip on power. From this position of unchallenged governance, the RPF further marginalizes the Hutu majority, using their collective, prescribed guilt as perpetrators of the genocide as a tool to thwart their political and social mobility. Given this depth of subjugation, ten million Hutu, of which an ever decreasing number were genocidaires, will doubtfully remain quietly and willingly underrepresented due to the sins of their fathers. “Rwanda’s past points to waves of mass violence, occurring every forty years or so, when the ruling class fractures and ordinary people become the targets of physical, ethnically motivated violence. The ambitious, talented and heavy-handed RPF shows few signs of bucking this trend.”
In 2009, researchers Immaculee Mukashema and Etienne Mullet, in an attempt to understand the sincerity of social healing in Rwanda, studied two components of reconciliation sentiment. First, the intrapersonal component of reconciliation sentiment measures one’s basic ability to peacefully coexist with their former perpetrator. Second, the interpersonal component of reconciliation sentiment is a deeper, more personal and nuanced feeling of restored trust in those that harmed you. In the population they assessed, most felt a high degree of intrapersonal reconciliation sentiment, though “interpersonal reconciliation sentiment was considerably lower.” Their research also identified a “positive association between lasting resentment and intrapersonal reconciliation sentiment,” showing the concern inherent in this superficial level of reconciliation most common in the assessed population. “As a result, it is reasonable to consider that a reconciliation sentiment of this kind essentially expresses the strong self-control these people need to exert when they are in the perpetrators’ presence.”
As indicated by the work of Mukashema and Mullet, among others, meaningful reconciliation among victims and perpetrators, and on a wider scale Tutsi and Hutu, has not taken place in Rwanda, where ethnicity remains an essential element of identity and mobility in daily life. Bert Ingelaere writes, “...ethnicity remains durable in post-genocide Rwanda despite a ‘new Rwanda’ where ethnicity has been officially abolished and where a discourse of Rwandan citizenship prevails over the use of ethnic identity markers.” Decisions on opportunity, employment, and influence are still made with a heavy preference toward the Tutsi minority, a trend most prevalent across government. Since the conclusion of the genocide, nearly all real power down to the sector level in Rwanda rests with paid, centrally appointed Tutsi, while elected Hutu fill unpaid, largely inconsequential positions. The resulting monopoly on power further perpetuates notions of Tutsi supremacy and limits the majority Hutus’ ability to influence their government. Even non-elite Tutsi feel the government sufficiently and equitably addresses their needs; accordingly, they report fewer instances of injustices or prejudices to researchers. While Tutsi, and more specifically genocide survivors, undoubtedly have a greater sense of security while power is wielded almost exclusively by their ethnic group, the political isolation forced upon their Hutu countrymen likely foments even greater discord in the silent majority and places the entire country at risk. Ingelaere notes Burundi’s unsuccessful attempt to abolish ethnicity in the 1970’s as a warning that “...ethnic identities can be mobilized for violent purposes even after having been ‘abolished’ for years. If ethnic sentiments remain, they may form a vector of grievance that may be mobilized, and they remain, therefore, a potential source of violence.”
The troublesomeness with the RPF approach to security and power consolidation appears more alarming as the genocide grows ever more distant in the past. While few would argue with the RPF’s power distribution methodology in the years immediately following the genocide, when stopping the bloodshed was the prevailing priority, the exclusionary approach to governance makes little sense now, a full generation removed from the violence. The ten million Rwandan Hutu have now endured twenty-five years of guilt, humiliation, and marginalization at the hands of the Tutsi minority, a group for which they have previously shown little patience.
Researcher Mark Naftalin writes, “most dangerously, Rwanda’s current policies are likely to polarize larger segments of society and deepen ethnic divisions.” The idea to reinvent Rwanda is not new, in fact, it was a prevailing mindset in the Hutu government that preceded the 1994 genocide. “In pre- and post-genocide Rwanda, visions centered on similar themes, including security, ethnic harmony or unity, development and democratic values, and were meant to illustrate the good that authorities intended to do for the country.” As President Kagame’s administration looks increasingly like that of Hutu President Juvenal Habyarimana, who preceded Kagame in the presidency and whose assassination began the genocide, “future instability and even violence in the beleaguered country will be ever more likely to recur.”
Political legitimacy, and international credibility, rests with the RPF’s ability to maintain security and prevent the resurgence of ethnic violence. The world collectively applauds their results while turning a blind eye to the extensive methods they employ to achieve them. Security in Rwanda is exhaustive and intrusive down to the lowest levels of rural government, where both speech and acts are heavily scrutinized in “...multiple, coded, cryptic, disingenuous, and ...indirect ways.” As a result, trust between neighbors has completely eroded, forcing ordinary citizens to precariously navigate their daily lives and social relationships, thus allowing fear to perpetuate unfettered and preventing the development of cohesive groups. The RPF’s ability to sow such mistrust among Rwandans contributes immeasurably to their ability to remain in power unchallenged. By prohibiting discussions on ethnicity or thoughtful reflections and debate on the genocide’s causes, Rwandans have no space to reconcile Tutsi-Hutu differences and achieve genuine healing. Instead, citizens are expected to blindly, and silently, accept the ‘new Rwanda’ built by the Tutsi-dominated RPF. Och’s assessment of exhaustive security mechanisms in Israel provides a helpful lens through which to view current-day Rwanda: “security, she writes, ultimately perpetuates rather than resolves binaries – between safety and danger, self and other, peace and violence – and becomes ‘an end unto itself, creating its own authority, its own truths’.”
Much as Tutsi have reaped the benefits of RPF-governance, their lives are the least impacted by the aggressive, state-wide security apparatus, which tends to focus predominantly on Hutu youth. Tutsi are not completely immune to state meddling, but “...ethnicity continues to shape how young people...perceive themselves and those around them,” a factor that makes life, when everyone plays a role in security, exceedingly difficult for the Hutu majority. While the Hutu lack political space to voice their concerns, it seems their overwhelming numbers represent all the ‘authority’ they need to ultimately be heard. Thus far, twenty-five years removed from the genocide, the Hutu have largely been a silent, compliant passenger in Rwanda’s drive for economic development and security, receiving only enough of the state’s gains to manage a meager existence. It seems unlikely that such a sizeable population will remain forever pliable by the government and willing to subsist on the left-overs of the Tutsi minority, a likely eventuality thus far unaddressed by the state. How will Kagame’s RPF manage, under a watchful international eye, a rise of the Hutu they have spent the last generation marginalizing? Consequently, the more closely Rwanda aligns with the Western powers that fund it, the more scrutiny it will endure from outspoken democratic publics who prefer to keep company with nations whose views mirror their own. To date, the widely touted phenomenon of ‘genocide guilt,’ stemming from the West’s collective inaction to stop the atrocities of 1994, has insulated Rwanda from heavy criticism for the manner in which they achieve security. It is more likely than not that this international patience, much like that of the Hutu’s, will soon run out and force the government to take a more democratic approach to securing its citizens.
RPF policies purposefully shroud everyday Rwandan life in ambiguous strictures, emanating in “...anxieties surrounding the questions that Rwandans so often wander about with regard to each other: where were you in 1994, and what were you doing”? The Tutsi-Hutu relationship was complicated enough preceding the civil war and genocide, with violent flares of tension and abject oppression common since independence, yet the RPF has further magnified the potential for volatility by elevating Tutsis to the detriment of the Hutus. At times, ethnicity still matters a great deal to everyday Rwandans, yet efforts to erase this unforgettable aspect of a troubled history have actually returned Rwanda to an all too familiar level of tension and mistrust which the RPF is only equipped to address through force. Laura Eramian writes, “an account of the historical emergence of Tutsi and Hutu ethnic stereotypes develops the idea that, in everyday life, there is no single criterion that Rwandans can use to conclusively resolve how they belong ethnically. Thus, the question of how and when ethnicity matters in the post- genocide period remains uncomfortably open.” “...Belgian anthropologist Danielle de Lame notes that, historically, Rwandan society had a long-standing culture of violence, focused on avenging the losses of one’s lineage.” While Tutsi were most severely victimized by the genocide, the Hutu can justly claim victimhood for the generation of extreme marginalization they have endured since the RPF came to power. Therefore, if all Rwandans are justifiably considered victims, or at least understandably so, than from whom shall they seek justice?
Thomson writes, “this right of revenge results in the “omnipresence of fear” shaped by a near- constant threat, including loss of life in periods of both peace and war.” The socio-political impacts are complex, as most ordinary Rwandans may be viewed as a perpetrator, or at least an enabling accessory, to either the genocide or subsequent Hutu marginalization. This is the fragile social context in which Rwandans live, where extreme mistrust of both neighbor and government prevail. For now, the resulting divisionism has enabled the RPF to shrewdly maintain security and stability, thus supporting the international community’s belief in a competent and capable Rwanda that is well-suited for a leading role across the region.
Some undoubtedly refute the conclusions espoused herein, yet none as forcefully as the “new Rwanda’s” chief architect, President Kagame, who speaks often of the positive effects of reconciliation in his country. Rwandans are now “...living side by side, walking together, [and] developing the country.” He feels that meaningful reflection and the passage of time have enabled his citizens to move beyond the shadow of genocide, unite, and prepare for the future. “During Kagame’s two-decade rule, Rwanda has made spectacular progress. A country famously deemed “nonviable” in the mid-1990s has become one of Africa’s best-run, most orderly, least corrupt, and safest states, with a booming economy... .” Such notable results have earned President Kagame a host of influential admirers, including Bill Clinton, Tony Blair, pastor Rick Warren, Rabbi Shmuley Boteach, Bill Gates, and Howard Shultz (Starbucks). From a personal perspective, during the international military exercise EASTERN ACCORD 2015 in Jinja, Uganda, I personally served as a liaison and advisor to the Rwandan military’s contingent of officers and enlisted men. As such, I spent one week working in a tent alongside my Rwandan counterparts, navigating together the challenges of a command post exercise. I remember vividly my one-on-one discussions with a particular Rwandan junior officer, a supremely competent soldier I had grown to respect. He spoke passionately of the social reconciliation that had taken place in Rwanda since the genocide and pridefully predicted a very bright future for his country. I was struck by his enthusiasm and the compelling nature of his testimony, ultimately leaving Africa with a strong desire to examine for myself the veracity of his claims. Disappointingly, in the ensuing years, I have discovered few scholarly works that speak favorably of governance and social reconciliation in post-genocide Rwanda. Filip Reyntjens notes that the world has focused on the positive results produced by “...Rwanda’s decent technocratic governance while ignoring its deeply flawed political governance.” In the end, he concludes, we are left with “...an army with a state, rather than a state with an army.” Thus, the winner-take-all nature of Rwandan politics, coupled with a culture of revenge, makes for a precarious foundation on which to reconcile.
Recommendations
The lack of widespread ethnic violence over the last two decades in Rwanda should not be viewed as an indication of successful Tutsi-Hutu reconciliation. The genocide serves as the macabre foundation on which Rwanda’s tenuous future rests, where individual potential, access to opportunity, and personal relationships are interwoven with ethnicity and the careful interplay of victims and perpetrators. To stem their growing vulnerability to future socio-ethnic violence, the RPF must more genuinely and comprehensively address the residual animosity and ethnic disparity between Tutsi and Hutu and pursue a lasting restoration. The following five recommendations are prescribed as a framework for introducing a transparent and accountable government while achieving a more restorative balance among the Rwandan people:
be more receptive to outside observers
reduce restrictions on the press
allow the creation of opposition political parties
enable fair elections
abandon attempts to eliminate ethnic identity
First, the RPF has a significant aversion to criticism and a storied history of expelling outside observers whose opinions run counter to those of the regime. From international non-governmental organizations to UN observers and academics, since the RPF’s rise to power, dozens have been swiftly expelled from the country in spite of, or perhaps because of, their work in support of the Rwandan people. These were the only voices empowered, albeit fleetingly, to present the ground-truth on post-genocide life in Rwanda and challenge the narrative offered by the RPF. Yet, “any research that concludes that life in Rwanda is not as the RPF purports is quickly discredited, including reports from the African Peer Review Mechanism, the Mo Ibrahim Foundation, the United Nations and the World Bank.” Public transparency is fundamental to a more peaceful and prosperous Rwanda; to achieve it, the RPF must entertain the presence and observations of outsiders, acknowledge truth, and recognize their domestic policy failures when identified.
Second, the RPF must reduce restrictions on the domestic press and allow them to report what they see in an objective and unbiased manner. “In November 2001, Reporters sans Frontieres called President Kagame a predator of press freedom and noted that only one weekly, Umuseso, was relatively independent.” Less than a decade later, Umuseso was prevented from covering the presidential election, while the co-editor of a similarly-viewed paper, Umuvugizi, was killed in Kigali immediately after publishing a story critical of the RPF. As a result of such restrictive measures against the press, little is actually known about Rwandans and what they may actually think about their country, the RPF regime, and their ethnic differences. Rwanda simply lacks a credible voice to dispel the single official narrative of prosperity espoused by the RPF. The less the international community, or the Rwandans themselves, understand about the state’s inter-workings, the more difficult it will be to promote meaningful, lasting change that addresses the needs of all Rwandans.
Third, the RPF must allow the unhindered creation of opposition political parties so that other agendas and policy views may be championed. At present, there is no space for political dissent of any kind within Rwanda, as the RPF is the undeniable paternal root of all parties, regardless of creative naming conventions, espoused views, or political affiliations. The Hutu majority of ten million citizens is almost completely isolated from the political process, to the direct benefit of elite Tutsi in the small ethnic minority. While a detailed accounting of the rise and rapid fall of post-genocide political parties is beyond the scope of this paper, Reyntjens’ research concludes that Rwanda represents a “...de facto single-party situation, where the RPF is the sole legal political operative in the country.” Accordingly, the RPF governs completely unchallenged and accountable only to President Kagame. This constitutes a dangerous arrangement considering such an ethnically imbalanced government precipitated the atmosphere leading to 1994’s genocide. Privately, several of Rwanda’s most influential international partners have posed the question: “if national security was fully under control, why not open up the political space to competition?” To date, this question remains unanswered by the RPF.
Fourth, fair elections will be an essential component of Rwandan restoration, as the gross ethnic imbalance in government is a key source of residual tension across the country. Presidential and parliamentary elections held since the RPF rose to power have been fraught with corruption, resulting in President Kagame and his associates receiving nearly one hundred percent of the vote. Reyntjens notes, “the campaigns preceding the 2003 presidential and parliamentary elections and the 2008 parliamentary elections were marred by arrests, disappearances, and intimidation. During the 2003 vote, an EU observer mission saw fraud, intimidation, the manipulation of electoral lists, ballet-box stuffing, lack of secrecy of the vote, and lack of transparency in the counting procedure.” Such governance has done little to build trust and confidence with Rwanda’s most marginalized citizens, who, as state-designated genocide perpetrators, must rely completely on the political whim of the genocide’s celebrated victims. While the crimes of ethnic violence in 1994 were undeniably horrific, the Tutsi minority cannot collectively ignore their ten million Hutu countrymen forever. As Rwandan history has shown, it is likely the Hutu will eventually make their voices heard, either on election day, or through less civil means.
Fifth, and finally, Rwanda must abandon their failed attempt to eliminate Tutsi and Hutu identities. The government cannot simply rewrite a tumultuous history to support a narrative of unity and reconciliation, a powerfully emotional story of redemption and restoration that is believed only by those who do not live it. The danger for the country rests, therefore, in a single well-understood fact: there is no place for Hutu in President Kagame’s new Rwanda. Rwanda has an identity crisis steeped in the ethnic divide that ruling regimes notoriously exploit to remain in power, a crisis further perpetuated by Kagame’s exhaustive marginalization of the Hutu majority. Until Rwanda addresses their troubling Tutsi-Hutu history in a sincere and open manner, ethnic tension and mistrust will continue to threaten national security and limit the country’s potential for growth and prosperity.
Conclusion
Post-genocide Rwanda hosts a complex interplay of polar extremes, where everyday life is defined by victims and perpetrators, prosperity and poverty, the past and future. Precious little attention is garnered by the space amid the poles, leaving large swaths of the population unaccounted for in the clamor for economic growth and stability. While the RPF achieved notable gains in the shadow of 1994’s genocide, methods matter. Under the guise of security-at- any- cost, the RPF spent a generation consolidating power to the tremendous detriment of the population’s majority. The result breeds resentment as the distance between the haves and have- nots grows beyond repair. The genocide was an all encompassing descent into mayhem and barbarism that continues to define life in Rwanda, where to this day trauma, grief, and mistrust remain widespread. The RPF response restored order, though the manner in which they did so has left the country vulnerable to further outbreaks of ethnic violence. Changing the flag, introducing a new national anthem, and dictating that all Rwandans will henceforth be the same does not achieve reconciliation, nor does it bring life anew for the thousands still seeking justice or forgiveness. Ethnic identity remains important to ordinary Rwandans who see little value or sincerity in the rewriting of their complicated history.
To move forward in any lasting and meaningful way, the RPF must enable greater transparency in government by allowing outside observers and the press to honestly report what they see, introduce accountability and legitimacy to the political space, and embrace rather than abolish the variety of ethnicities that call Rwanda home. Each of these measures would almost certainly result in the demise of the RPF and President Kagame, an eventuality they have been trying hard to prevent for more than two decades. Such preventative measures to secure the regime have repeatedly put the United States in a challenging position both at home and abroad.
Will we, and other Western powers, continue to partner with Rwanda once the scope of their misdeeds in the pursuit of security are more widely known? At what point, if we have not already reached it, will the United States be complicit in the violation of human rights by those whom we support? We sat idly as the crisis of the genocide unfolded in full view of international observers, thus abdicating our oft-professed leadership responsibilities on the world stage. In the ensuing years, as an increasingly aggressive RPF strengthened their grip on power and pushed Hutus to the outer margins of society, we collectively forfeited American exceptionalism, placing transactional relationships and regional access before morality and human dignity. The genocide was bigger than just Rwanda and East Africa, it brought forth a painful and visceral reality that national interests prevail above all others. As the RPF sets conditions favorable for future ethnic violence, we must consider now the United States’ role in the ensuing chaos.
About the Author:
Lieutenant Colonel Taylor is assigned to the Air War College, Air University, Maxwell AFB, AL. He is an active duty Marine Corps manpower officer and 2013 distinguished graduate of the Air Command and Staff College. He relinquished command of the Marine Corps’ Personnel Administration School in 2019, and prior to that, served on a variety of headquarters staffs at Major Subordinate Command, Marine Forces, and Combined Joint Task Force levels. Lieutenant Colonel Taylor is an advanced foreign security force advisor.