Painting by Cheri Samba

Lokuta eyaka na ascenseur, kasi vérité eyei na escalier mpe ekomi. Lies come up in the elevator; the truth takes the stairs but gets here eventually. - Koffi Olomide

Ésthetique eboma vélo. Aesthetics will kill a bicycle. - Felix Wazekwa

Monday, April 13, 2015

MONUSCO's military mandate: A red herring?

UN Security Council 
Much of the debate around the recent mandate renewal of the UN peacekeeping mission was centered on military action. News reports focused on the recent debate about a drawdown of UN troops and operations against the FDLR. But, pace Clausewitz, military action should always be part of a broader political strategy. And what is that strategy?

Yes, it is true, as news media reported, that the mandate renewal came at a time of intense tensions between MONUSCO and the Congolese government. And some of these tensions are indeed military ––the Congolese foreign minister wanted the peacekeeping force cut by 6,000, the Security Council answered with a preliminary cut of 2,000. And then there is the kerfuffle over the anti-FDLR operations: the government had been planning joint operations against the Rwandan rebels together with MONUSCO since last year, only to scrap those plans and go it alone this year when the UN raised concerns over the human rights record of two FARDC commanders. So it was no surprise that the Council reminded the government of the importance of going after the FDLR––it said that any permanent reduction in troops would depend on it––and of collaborating with UN troops.

But the real problem is not military. Yes, MONUSCO's human rights due diligence policy ("don't support FARDC commanders with poor human rights records") has rubbed Kinshasa the wrong way for many years. But it is actually in military matters that the interests of MONUSCO and the government most closely align. While Kinshasa has not always shown a lot of vigor in dealing with armed groups in the eastern Congo (read this recent post by Christoph Vogel on the FDLR), it has always been the threat of a Rwandan proxy that played the most important role in pushing the FARDC into complicity with armed groups. And for now, that threat has disappeared. Despite its lackluster performance against the FDLR, the Congolese army has deployed resources––and lost hundreds of troops––in operations against the M23, ADF, and APCLS in the past two years. So, broadly speaking, MONUSCO and the FARDC both want the same thing: to get rid of armed groups, although sometimes the UN wants it more, and the FARDC is particular about which armed groups.

Where interests diverge crassly is on the political process. The Congo is headed toward an election, possibly the most contentious poll since independence. This election could mark the first democratic  transfer of power between heads of state since independence in 1960. Or it could mark the critical erosion of institutions (constitution, parliament, provincial assemblies, etc.) that the Congolese people and donors have spent the past 16 years building.

The UN wants to play an important role in this political process. The formulation used about twenty times in the mandate renewal is "good offices"––MONUSCO is supposed to use its "good offices" to support institutional reform, democratization, and in dealing with armed groups. With regards to the elections, it says MONUSCO should:
Promote peace consolidation and inclusive and transparent political dialogue among all Congolese stakeholders with a view to furthering reconciliation and democratization, while ensuring the protection of fundamental freedoms and human rights, paving the way for the holding of elections. 
But "good offices" do little good if the government refuses to come to those offices. Or shuts them down altogether. Last year, when the head of the UN mission Martin Kobler tried to convene various political parties  to promote consensus around the electoral process, Kabila shut the initiative down. Prior to that, MONUSCO's attempts to get involved in security sector reform––as requested by the Security Council––and in the demobilization of Congolese combatants met with cold/lukewarm shoulders in government ministries.

This is the era that MONUSCO finds itself in––one in which it has been reduced to what it arguably does worst: protecting civilians in the absence of a broader political process. What it did best was precisely that: help negotiate and the shepherd through a political process during the 2001-2006 period. Since 2006, the UN has been almost entirely marginalized from the political process. It cannot broker peace deals with armed groups, arguably the most important task for the mission. It cannot, although it has tried, try to promote goodwill and consensus around the electoral process in Kinshasa. And it has struggled to play a meaningful role in institutional reform, although it has the mandate to do so.

More and more, UN missions are being deployed into situations without a viable political process. That is the arguably the case in Darfur, South Sudan, and even Mali. Of course, the absence of a political process does not obviate the need for a mission. A lot can still be accomplished––most notably, the ushering in of a political process, but also, as in the Congo, political and human rights reporting, facilitation of humanitarian aid, and a basic check on military and political excesses.

To be blunt: It is a shame that MONUSCO cannot play a role in military operations in the eastern Congo; those operations would probably be more effective and less abusive of civilians. But it is a much greater shame that military force has become the primary remit of the mission. Brute force will not solve the conflict.

Monday, April 6, 2015

Kash: Mass grave on the outskirts of Kinshasa

This is the first in a series of caricatures the Congolese political caricaturist Kash (aka Kashauri Thembo) is providing exclusively to Congo Siasa.

The Congolese media have been abuzz today about a mass grave that has been found on the outskirts of Kinshasa. Local residents alerted the UN that trucks came in the dead of night on March 19th to bury corpses in a mass grave, and some fear that the bodies may include opposition and civil society activists who have disappeared since recent protests against the government. Since then, Congolese authorities have confirmed that they buried 424 bodies in Maluku, the suburb, but say that the bodies belong to indigents and dead-born babies who were never claimed from the city morgue in Kinshasa.

Two parallel investigations have been launched, one civilian, the other military, and the government has given contradictory signals as to whether they will exhume the bodies.

In the meantime, here is Kash:


Thursday, April 2, 2015

Podcast: Ida Sawyer on human rights trends in the Congo

For this week's podcast, I spoke with Ida Sawyer, the senior researcher for Human Rights Watch on the Congo. We discussed the recent arrests of civil society and opposition activists to the backdrop of an increasingly acrimonious election season.

Friday, March 27, 2015

What socio-economic data tells us about sexual violence, découpage, and living conditions in the Congo

A satellite view of Kinshasa (bottom) and Brazzaville (top)
For those of us who think numbers and statistics can give a useful––albeit partial––insight into political and social dynamics, the Congo frustrates. The are no reliable national political polls, and socio-economic data is usually limited to the extremely limited data compiled by the World Bank and other financial institutions.

Which is why the publication of the Demographic and Health Survey last September was such a boon. This is the second installment of the DHS for the Congo, the first having been published in 2007. The study was carried out by Measure DHS, a private company based in the US, along with the ministries of planning and health.

While the survey is largely focused in social and health data, there are some useful insights into more political issues.

If you want a better life, head to the city.

This might seem surprising to those who have seen the crammed slums of Kinshasa or the squalor of Mbuji-Mayi. But by almost all indicators, life is on average better in urban areas. Women in cities spend double the years of their rural counterparts getting an education (5,4 vs. 2 years). Around 57% of urban dwellers fall in the highest socio-economic quintile, compared with only less than 1% of the rural population––this is calculated based on things they own (fridge, cell phones, radio, etc.) and features of their houses (water, electricity, kinds of floor and roofing). Finally, health indicators are better in urban than rural areas––infant mortality is lower (5,9% vs. 6.8%), malaria too (25% vs. 33% for kids), and access to health care much easier.

Congolese know this. Each year, cities are growing by over 5%, meaning that Kinshasa alone will add 350,000 people this year. By 2025, it will rival Lagos as the largest city on the continent, with a projected population of 15 million. This will change political and social dynamics, including those of protest and elections.

Sexual violence is a problem for the whole Congo, not just the conflict-afflicted East.

Rape by soldiers and combatants is certainly the most brutal and gruesome. But it is not the most prevalent, not by a long stretch. Only 1,1% of women who had experienced sexual violence said that soldiers or policemen were to blame.

When asked about having suffered from sexual violence at any point in their life, the highest prevalence was in Kasai Occidental, a province where the war was relatively short. When asked about sexual violence in the last 12 months, the highest levels were in Bandundu province, where there has not been armed conflict in the past year.


Again, we should be careful not to conflate all kinds of sexual violence. The question the interviewees were asked was a form of: "Have you ever been forced to have sex when you didn't want to?" This includes Intimate Partner Sexual Violence, as well as gang rape, which is probably more traumatic and carries greater stigma. A report by Tia Palermo et al. in 2011, drawing on DHS data from 2007, confirms that violent rape is most prevalent in conflict-ridden North Kivu, but that other, more peaceful provinces such as Equateur also have very high levels of rape, and that IPSV is highest outside of the East.


Découpage will create the strongest resentments in Katanga, Kasai-Oriental, and Province Orientale.

President Kabila just signed a law creating 26 provinces out of the current 11. The DHS data shows us that wealth is unevenly distributed across the country, which is bound to create trouble during this "découpage" process. The DHS data divides the population into quintiles. In Haut-Katanga (where Lubumbashi and many mines are located), 61% of the population is in the top quintile, compared with 0,5% in Tanganyika (northern Katanga). In Kasai-Oriental, découpage will split the diamond-rich capital Mbuji-Mayi from Sankuru and Lomami, which could also exacerbate ethnic strife between Tetela, Luba, and other ethnic groups.


There are many other gems in the report.

Tuesday, March 24, 2015

Podcast: Un interview avec Jean Omasombo sur la décentralisation, le découpage, et les remous politiques au Congo

Jean Omasombo est chercheur au Musée Royal de l'Afrique Centrale en Belgique et directeur du Centre d'Études Politiques à l'Université de Kinshasa. Dans cette émission, nous parlons de la loi sur la création des nouvelles provinces, promulguée le 2 mars 2015. Pourquoi ce découpage a pris autant de temps? Est-ce que c'est une bonne idée de décentraliser le pouvoir sans avoir consolider des institutions fortes? Et quelle analyse faire du contexte politique––la bataille sur la succession du Président Kabila, et les divisions au sein de la Majorité Présidentielle––dans lequel cette décision a été prise?



Tuesday, March 17, 2015

Kabila's ruling coalition frays as succession battle deepens


The battle over Kabila’s succession has begun, and is certain to be the leitmotif of Congolese politics over the coming two years. To a certain extent––to a large extent––the recent controversies over the electoral law and calendar, and the arrest of opposition members and civil society activists (a whole slew were detained on Sunday), are all part of this battle.

While the most visible manifestation of this struggle were street demonstrations, violently repressed by the police and Republican Guard, in Kinshasa in January, it is the divisions within the ruling coalition that are causing the president a headache these days. 

In early March, some of the largest parties in the ruling coalition wrote a letter to President Kabila. This included the MSR of Pierre Lumbi (the national security advisor)––the second largest party in the presidential coalition; the ARC of Olivier Kamitatu (minister of planning); the PDC of José Endundo (minister of environment); UNADEF of Charles Mwando Simba (former minister of defense); the UNAFEC of Gabriel Kyungu wa Kumwanza; and MSDD of Christophe Lutundula; and the ACO of Dany Banza. The letter––which has not been released publicly, but has been commented on in the press and confirmed by its authors in private––warned about splits in the presidential coalition and the souring of relations between the government and the people.

Several things stand out: The signatories include some of the largest parties in the countries, making up almost a third of the ruling coalition's seats in parliament. Banza, Mwando, and Kyungu are all from Kabila's home province of Katanga, where the succession battle has become increasingly linked to the current governor, Moise Katumbi. 

Katumbi has had a very public falling out with Kabila in December, and recently announced that he will soon step down as governor when Katanga is split into four new provinces. He is widely suspected to be preparing a run for the presidency in 2016. During a recent trip to Katanga, Kamitatu is reported to have met several times with Katumbi, and one of Kabila's advisors told me that this whole letter was linked to Katumbi's "insurgency," as he called it. 

Katumbi would have a head start in a presidential race: He is very wealthy and has built himself a national brand through populist gestures and his TP Mazembe soccer team, which has won several African titles in recent years. His disadvantages include being married to a Tutsi Burundian wife––suspicion of Tutsi runs deep and often virulent in the Congo––having a past of legal troubles related to his various business endeavors, and being from Katanga. The presidency has been in the hands of Katangans for the past 18 years, a fact that westerners often complain about. 

This is not the first time that the signatories of the letter have lodged such complaints with the presidency. Last year, Lumbi's MSR party led the charge against a constitutional revision that could have seen Kabila extent his presidency by another 5 years, and Lutundula, Kamitatu and Kyungu adopted similar positions. 

Will this succession battle be led by members of the ruling coalition, or the opposition and civil society? Surely a mixture of both. But with the opposition leadership divided––Vital Kamerhe and Martin Fayulu have had a series of public fallings-out, and the UDPS is collapsing as its ailing patriarch Etienne Tshisekedi leaves the scene––these splits within the ruling coalition could be decisive. It remains to be seen whether Kabila will continue to allow this kind of dissent, or whether hardliners around him––people like intelligence chief Kalev Mutond and interior minister Évariste Boshab––will begin to crack down. 

For now, the gloves are still on, as Kabila met with the signatories of the letter individually over the weekend. 

Wednesday, March 11, 2015

A strange peace deal: The PSCF at two

Francois Mwamba, the coordinator of the national oversight mechanism of the PSCF (Courtesy: Radio Okapi)
I was on Radio Okapi yesterday, discussing the failures and successes of the Peace, Security, and Cooperation Framework, which turned two years old a few weeks ago. It was a sobering hour––and a terrible phone line––that gave me occasion for some broad reflections about the PSCF.

Here are some positive aspects of the PSCF:
  • The PSCF provided what we hadn't had for many years: the semblance of a peace process, with outside monitors and clear benchmarks and goals. This addressed one of the sad paradoxes of the Congo: The official Lusaka Peace Process (1999-2006) ended in 2006 with national elections, but conflict in the Congo escalated thereafter, with no commensurate peace process. 
  • It correctly identified two key drivers of the conflict: foreign meddling in the Congo, and the dysfunction of Congolese state institutions. 
  • Much was done: The M23 was defeated, a national demobilization set up (on paper), progress on supply chain due diligence in the mining sector, and a slew of laws passed on elections and SSR.
And the negative:
  • But the PSCF was a bizarre peace process, and probably more a framework (indeed, as its name says) than a real process:
    • It was extremely cumbersome, with eleven state signatories and four guarantors;
    • Usually peace processes involve the belligerents in a conflict. This one didn't really––neither the M23 nor any other of the fifty-some armed groups in the eastern Congo was a party to the process. While Rwanda and Uganda––both erstwhile backers of the M23––were signatories, they never recognized their involvement, which made any progress in official meetings difficult. At the national level, it was even more idiosyncratic: the Congolese government was the only official member of the oversight mechanism, although it received support from donors and the UN, and was supposed to consult with civil society;
  • The progress (listed above) was mostly on paper, and arguably could have––and should have––been done without the PSCF. 
    • The defeat of the M23 was largely to result of bilateral pressure on Rwanda that happened outside the PSCF, and increased FARDC/MONUSCO military pressure;
    • The demobilization program was set up in December 2013, but has yet to be financed by the Congolese government or donors;
    • Laws on elections and SSR have indeed been passed, but (a) those laws could have very well be passed without the PSCF, and (b) both the SSR and the electoral process have been tarnished by a lack of inclusion and transparency. 
  • The PSCF created a very cumbersome bureaucracy that appeared more preoccupied with establishing long lists of metrics and objectives than in getting the job done. That's a bit cynical: Some things were indeed accomplished, and the benchmarks did perhaps serve to focus minds and to muster momentum. But at times it seemed that some of the signatories wanted to mire the PSCF in bureaucracy to slow it down on purpose. 
  • There has been little progress on key objectives:
    • Despite some arrests of high-ranking officers, it is fair to say that there has been little systematic action on holding security forces accountable for their actions, either by the courts or through parliamentary oversight;
    • There is a lack of real dialogue among Congolese political forces over key aspects of the reform agenda––in particular, elections and security sector reform;
    • High-profile political prisoners are still being locked up, while others have benefited from amnesty;
    • Lack of progress on decentralization of political power.
So was it all worth it? Yes, the PSCF has helped focus attention on a core set of issues, and create a set of common benchmarks for progress. But it has also demonstrated its limitations, with a lack of ownership by many of the stakeholders, and a lack of leverage and oversight by civil society, the international community, and other forces.