[2] Shocking Observations From Bukavu

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Shocking Observations from Bukavu

An Account of Sytematic Killings and Pillage

September 1997

The summary that follows is a brief resumé of a recent visit to Bukavu, which with a population of some 200,000, is the principal city in the northeastern corner of what was formerly Zaire, now the Democratic Republic of the Congo, on the border with Rwanda. The author has asked to remain anonymous.

During this visit contacts were made with men and women of a variety of social classes and ethnic groups. These notes can be organized into four headings: The killings, the iconic events, the systematic and massive pillaging, and the occupation.

The Killings

Bukavu was taken on the 29th and 30th of October 1996. It had long been one of the most important centers in Zaire for the organization of groups associated with "civil society," which included many of the most outspoken critics of the Mobutu regime within the country. But it is also an area close to the southwestern corner of Rwanda, which had been the focal point for the French-led "Opération Turquoise" during July and August of 1994. And so many members of the former government of Rwanda had escaped from Rwanda through Bukavu.

Around Bukavu, and most notably in Kalehe, Katana, and Ngweshe, were situated several large refugee camps. But there was no serious military presence on the part of Mobutu's Forces Armées Zairoises.

The attack took place early in the afternoon of October 29th, at a time when most of the leading figures of the city had been called to a meeting. Since the principal attack came from across the border from Rwanda, rather than from Zairian territory to the south and west, some youth assembled on the road to confront the army; they were killed. The population of Nguba, the area of Bukavu closest to the border, was then systematically pursued.

One of the elements that all Congolese in Bukavu remark on is the wanton destruction of human life associated with the taking of the city. By all accounts, there was little opposition on the part of the FAZ. Yet as near as can be ascertained, between 1500 and 2000 civilians were killed, with large numbers of bodies fallen in very public and visible areas--at Collège Alfajiri, and on Avenue Mobutu above Nyawera Market, in front of the cathedral. People cite between eleven and fourteen mass graves--"fosses communes"--in the city of Bukavu alone. And many people said that they were not permitted to retrieve from the pile of cadavers the bodies of family members or friends, to be given a proper burial. One woman is said to have sought permission from the governor himself to disinter from a mass grave the body of someone from her family, so that she could give the body a proper burial. She was refused, being told that to allow her to do so would be to admit publicly that there were mass graves in Bukavu, som

ething the administration denied. Many people said they lost between 20 and 30 friends and/or family members.

It should be stressed that these deaths were all within the city proper, and not in Kadutu, the major residential area. They included people of all social classes. Many people noted that vehicles were shot at systematically, under the pretext that any car had to be driven by a member of the FAZ or their family trying to flee, since all cars were assumed to have been requisitioned by Mobutu's troops. But virtually everyone denies that that was the case; they assert that many civilian families were shot and killed simply because they were in a car.

The first point is the extent of the impact of this wanton disregard for human life, which has become not only a moral issue, but a political issue. It is important to note, however, that after the first few days this stopped, although banditry continued and many people indicated that targeted individuals noted on lists continued to be sought.

Iconic Events

Several events in particular recur in numerous accounts of the occupation of the city. The first and most intense of those is the death of the Catholic archbishop. He was a man highly respected in Bukavu. Many people cited as proof of his courage the fact that he personally--not by sending a delegate, and not by sending a letter, but that he personally --had travelled to Katana (40 km. north of Bukavu) to escort back to the Rwandan border at Bukavu between 40-60 Rwandan religious sisters (members of the Benebikira order) who had been threatened by members of the Interahamwe at a nearby refugee camp. However, the Archbishop, a Zairean member of the Jesuit order, had also written a public letter of concern over the killings in South Kivu during the months of September and early October 1996. During the early stages of the attack on Bukavu, he had sought to travel from the cathedral to the Jesuit high school (Collège Alfajiri), a distance of perhaps two kilometers. Shortly after leaving the grounds of the

cathedral, his car was stopped by ADFL troops. In front of many witnesses, he left his car and identified himself, and showed his identification papers. Whereupon he was shot on the spot. What outraged people in Bukavu even more was that his body was left untended, uncared for, and unburied for several days: During that period no one was permitted to clean, bury, or care for the body--an example of what people frequently cite as a calculated humiliation and spite by the occupying troops towards the citizens of Bukavu.

In a separate incident, women who fled the fighting, often escorting children, were surrounded by soldiers who separated the women from the children. In some cases the women were placed on trucks and driven off, forced to abandon the children. Given the recent history of this area, this action of course drove fear into the hearts of both the adults and the children.

On other occasions people were forced into the cathedral-many had already spontaneously gathered there--until it was jammed to overflowing. They were kept in the cathedral, separated from their families and especially from their children, for most of the day--in absolute silence--and finally released. But again, this is cited as an abuse of authority and a tactic of intimidation- -especially the separation of family members.

Many others fled the city and feared both the ADFL forces pursuing them, and the militias reconstructed within the Rwandan refugee camps in the area. Many fled 40 to 60 km. away, into the mountains, sometimes harassed, always fearful. Some people mentioned their fear of Interahamwe as well, and in fact were accosted by such groups. "When a serpent bites you, you don't stop to ask if it's male or female," said one person in referring to the dilemma of fleeing armed groups from different factions (ie, the Interahamwe and the occupying troops). Many people mentioned that they felt trapped between armed groups with conflicting agendas. Also many asserted that these ocuppying troops were from "Rwanda, Ethiopia, and Eritrea"; they said they knew that from conversations both with the soldiers and with Zaireans included among the ADFL forces, and from the texture of their hair.

Many people also spoke of walking over formidable mountain ranges and through full forest, to destinations such as Kindu, Tingi-Tingi camp, and Kisangani, often with large groups of young children. Children themselves spoke of being isolated from parents or adult relatives, and running fearfully through the hills without food or direction or friends, living for several days on the generosity of local residents. What most strikes a visitor today, almost a year later, is the fact that virtually every person has a dramatic history to tell. And the intensity of the experience rings through the telling of the tale.

Not only was there enormous physical suffering, but emotional and cultural traumas are prominent in these stories as well. For example, one medical doctor talked with vehemence and hate about how soldiers in the ADFL would force open people's mouths and spit into them, again a reference to the disdain with which the occupying forces--a term which recurred again and again--treated the people of Bukavu. Many people have similar tales of pure humiliation inflicted upon them. Numerous testimonies convey shock and deep disdain at the manner by which the Rwandan refugees were treated by the occupying forces. Though the attack was said to have been to free refugees to return to Rwanda, in Bukavu the border with Rwanda was actually closed for many days. Refugees were not forced to return to Rwanda, they were prevented from doing so. In fact numerous eye -witness accounts recounted how the refugees were actually hunted down. Many Congolese talked about "la chasse"; others referred to how, later, NGO trucks carryi

ng Rwandan refugees were frequently stopped by soldiers of the ADFL alliance; boys and men were systematically removed and taken to the forest where they were killed. Others were chased mercilessly into the forest. And civilians who were witness to such actions--or even who lived in nearby locales--were often themselves threatened to keep silent. Among people in Bukavu, the wanton destruction of life was often mentioned as foreign to "Zairean" norms.

Finally, many people spoke of the fear, humiliation, and losses from vandalism and robbery that accompanied this chaos. During subsequent months, some people were robbed several times over. Sometimes these robberies occurred within 100 meters of military barricades, yet when informed of the events those manning the barricades did nothing.

Systematic and Massive Pillage

Frequent reference was made to the manner in which armed forces and people associated with them moved into houses and through neighborhoods, taking what they wanted--and often taking everything. Especially targeted seemed to have been industrial or mechanical installations such as machines for depulping coffee, office equipment, and communication devices. People even note that parts were removed from the brewery, from tea factories, and other installations, and taken to Rwanda. A European missionary noted that the pillage had been systematic in missions: armoires, tables, chairs--anything movable had been taken and trucked to Rwanda. "Only the four walls were left standing," was a common refrain. In the eyes of the people of Bukavu, this was but another sign of the fact that this was not a liberation, but an occupation. Once again, they argue that this was not a moral issue alone, but a political issue--an indication of the character of the political order in which they live.

The "Occupation"

A recurring theme is that "We struggled for years against Mobutu. We endured and we undermined the regime. We sought a liberation, and we received an occupation." As one man pointed out, "the troops of Kabila plucked a fruit that was already ripe, from a tree that others had planted."

In the same vein, many people pointed to the rejection or even targeting of many of those who had been outspoken critics of the Mobutu regime for many years. Indeed, those who were courageous enough and articulate enough to oppose Mobutu politically, seem to have often been taken as a threat to the new order. Virtually everyone pointed out that the troops were predominantly foreign, of Rwandan, not "Banyamulenge" or other Zairian people. Several people mentioned that the young leader of the invasion of Bukavu had later expressed opposition to subsequent killings in South Kivu, and he himself had been imprisoned.

There was palpable resentment about the slippage of ethnic categories involved in the dissimulation by which the occupying forces presented themselves to the world. "Who are these Banyamulenge? We know the people of Itombwe [the plateau west of Uvira, and the home to a long term community of Rwanda-speaking pastoralists]. But these troops [who attakced Bukavu] were from Rwanda." Although ethnic fluidity is a common cultural pastime in the society, used for personal achievement, it is resented as a form of "excusing" external invasion. In the eyes of many people in Bukavu, there was a distinction to be made.

It was remarkable how intense the feelings were, even after a year. And it was a sobering reminder of how challenging appears the political terrain to be traversed in the process of building a regime that can inspire a deep sense of legitimacy in the eyes of its citizens.

Concluding Remarks

The accounts were shocking, not only in their content but in their intensity, in their detail, in their consistency, and in the sincerity with which they were narrated. Nonetheless, it is important to note that these relate to the experiences of only one small region of the country, and cannot be blindly extrapolated elsewhere. Political process in the Congo has to be understood in regional terms, rather than in broad national generalizations. But that is exactly what makes these accounts interesting and informative. [For an account from Kinshasa which evokes similar themes, see Gauthier de Villers, "Impressions de voyage et situation politique au Congo-Kinshasa," in Traits d'Union Rwanda 16 (August 1997), 11-15.]

For outsiders, the important watchword is "stability." But these stories suggest that "stability" is not to be gained by the support of powerful outside allies alone; as long as the government is not seen as legitimate, and does not do more to incorporate the local populations within the processes of political consolidation and economic reconstruction, then "stability" is simply a chimera. It may be a mantra which sounds good to outside ears. But it doesn't always sound good to internal ears.

For in fact, such thinking reflects the policy adopted by outsiders towards the Mobutu regime--that external strategic imperatives are more important than the internal character of the regime. Yet as many pointed out at the time, this was a policy that was a ludicrous sham internationally; more important it was an utter disaster for the people who live in the country.

Yet the problem goes deeper still. In several areas of the Congo a broad opposition appears to be emerging, based to a large degree on the types of grievances articulated in Bukavu. The danger is that within this heterogeneous, and as yet amorphous, opposition, there are others eager to take advantage of the situation; this includes an unsavoury alliance of former Mobutuistes, former Rwandan Interahamwe, and former UNITA fighters. Therefore, to prevent this widespread disaffection from coalescing into a broader movement, the government is faced with the serious challenge of shoring up its ties with the local population, rather than to continue to disdain them.

To be sure, it might be tempting for the Kinshasa government to portray itself as beseiged by the remnants of the FAR, and claim that all opposition was in that camp. Indeed, the recent history of this region has shown a tendency by some governments to paint with just such a broad brush, to claim that all elements of dissent are simply tools of a single party--for example, that all Rwandan refugees are simply former members of the FAR.

But such a portrayal would be a gross misrepresentation of the nature of these popular grievances. For the attitudes expressed in Bukavu were clearly not orchestrated; instead, they appear to represent genuine grass roots disaffection, based on numerous individual experiences. What purpose would it serve to claim that all dissent is part of a Mobutuiste plot, aside from providing a pretext for trivializing and ignoring it? And is it in the long term interests of "stability" for outside powers to support a government that seems to be more interested in shoring up external support (in Africa and elsewhere), than in addressing the grievances of its own population?

In this light, two lessons emerged from these conversations in Bukavu. The first was the range and depth and intensity of the grievances. The second was their novelty: although some stories had trickled out, these accounts had mostly been suppressed and denied outlet: information flows had been controlled; poulation movements had been discouraged; and some people had been threatened. This may not be the case throughout the country, but the presence of such attitudes in Bukavu only raises the question.

For in Congo today, all knowledge is local knowledge; the political character of the regime has to be seen not as national ideology, but as personal experience. It is local experience which forms the basic foundation on which people interpret their world, and the platform on which they will act. So these issues are not just "moral" issues of goverance, an impediment to development, but political issues which vitally affect the prospects of development. While the people of Bukavu celebrated the demise of Mobutu, that was not the end of history for them. "Nous avons cherché une libération; nous avons trouvé un occupation," was a frequent refrain. As the people of Bukavu pointed out, history didn't stop with the demise of Mobutu.

To be sure, the tasks facing the current regime in Kinshasa are monumental. But as these conversations indicated, in addressing these tasks the government in Kinshasa needs the support of its own citizens--and their involvement in the tasks at hand--even as it needs the support of outside powers. So too, the people of the country need the support of their government in reconstructioning their own lives in this post-Mobutu world. Some of them don't feel they are getting it.



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