Democratisation and Militarisation in Rwanda

Eight years after the genocide

Elizabeth Sidiropoulos
Director of studies at the South African Institute of International Affairs (SAIIA), based te the University of the Witwatersrand, Johannesburg

Published in African Security Review Vol 11 No 3, 2002


The political and military thinking of the Rwandan government is still informed by the 1994 genocide. Despite the strong trend toward democratisation and openness in many civil matters, the military establishment continues to be regarded as critical for the survival and protection of the state and is not subject to the same levels of accountability, though this is perhaps not surprising given the threats emanating in particular from the DRC. While the positive growth shown by the economy in recent years has contributed to the process of reform, poverty continues to be widespread. Sustainable peace is also elusive. Rwanda is not at war in its own territory and the state has managed to create a base of legitimate state institutions. However, organised political opposition remains difficult and civil society is too weak to play an active role. Future peace and prosperity depend on a resolution of the regional dimension of the conflict and the removal of the military option (including the militarisation of the civilian population) as the primary means of solving regional and domestic problems.

Introduction

No-one can deny the traumatic effects that the genocide bequeathed on Rwanda, nor of the long-term process any attempt at rebuilding and reconciliation would be. An assessment of Rwanda’s transformation since 1994 must happen in the context of understanding the genocide. As the single defining moment of recent Rwandan history, the genocide has informed government policies and shaped political and military thinking. It also underscores the twin and contrasting trends towards democratisation on the one hand, and militarisation on the other.

Rwanda has come a long way since 1994, when its institutions were incapacitated and shorn of any legitimacy, most skilled people either dead or fled and the state treasury plundered. Since the late 1990s, especially after its border areas were relatively stabilised (1998–99), Rwanda has established a number of institutions aimed at creating checks and balances, such as the National Human Rights Commission, the Unity and Reconciliation Commission, and the auditor-general. The government advocates a policy of emphasising the ‘Rwandanness’ of all its citizens and all references to ethnic origin have been eliminated from identity cards. However, the Tutsi-Hutu divide has not been eradicated and concern about growing ‘Tutsification’ is not unfounded.

Economically, it has made great strides. The Rwanda economy has realised positive economic growth since the mid-1990s, reaching its pre-war output levels, after a decline of some 50% in 1994. In 2000 real gross domestic product (GDP) growth was 5.2%. However, Rwanda must realise growth of 9% a year for the next 15 years to achieve sustainable growth and poverty reduction.1

Although the International Monetary Fund (IMF) teams that have periodically visited the country express their satisfaction with the economy’s achievement of macro-economic stability, they have nevertheless stressed that poverty reduction remains a key challenge. The majority of people are still worse off today, with about 70% living below the poverty line, compared with 40% in 1985 and 53% in 1993.2

About 90% of the population live on small family farms scattered on the hillsides and are involved in subsistence agriculture, but rural conditions have deteriorated and there has been considerable economic damage because of the intensity of the cultivation. As a result, agricultural production per capita and crop yields have been declining steadily since the mid-1980s. About 45% of GDP comes from agriculture and it comprises 72% of exports. Population growth is expected to average about 2.5% a year between 1999 and 2015 (compared with 2% in 1975–99), while some 45% of the population were below 15 years of age in 1999.3 Life expectancy in 2000 was 40 years and under-five mortality was 203 per 1,000.4

Even before the civil war and the genocide, Rwanda’s economy depended extensively on foreign donor assistance. In the 1990s the size of development aid increased—from US$45 per person in the 1980s to US$80 and more in the 1990s.5 In 1999, total overseas development assistance (ODA) amounted to about 19.1% of GDP, compared with 11.3% in 1990.6 In the period 1998–99, more than 25% of bilateral ODA was emergency aid, while about 35% went to education, health and other social sectors.7

This paper will analyse briefly the contrasting trends of democratisation and militarisation against the background of the challenges facing Rwanda, both politically and militarily. It will conclude by examining the prospects for the consolidation of democracy in light of recent developments in the region.

The security environment

The security concerns of the Rwandan government have underpinned its actions for most of the post-genocide period. Given the imminent threat from the ex-FAR and Interahamwe in the immediate aftermath of the genocide, the RPF (first and foremost as a military body) relied extensively on its forces to ensure security. The first few years were characterised by extreme militarisation, for two reasons:
  • there was a very real security threat from the ex-FAR and Interahamwe; and
  • the army was the only organised force/institution in the country.
The security situation has improved since then, but Rwanda’s civil war, which began in 1990, continues, this time outside Rwanda, in the Democratic Republic of Congo (DRC). Its resolution is interlinked with that of the Great Lakes, and includes the conflicts in the DRC, Burundi and Angola.

The involvement of Rwanda in the Congo relates to the continued presence there of ex-FAR soldiers and Interahamwe who fled there after the genocide. The insurgents are now organised into the Armee de Liberation du Rwanda (ALiR). Their members consist largely of genocidaires, but their ranks have been swollen with new combatants, who are neither from the ex-FAR nor from the Interahamwe. Many of these new troops were recruited inside Rwanda during the insurgency—beginning in 1997. Others were recruited from the refugee camps in the Congo as young boys. Although some may have been forcefully recruited, the recruitment of others may point to the disenchantment of some Hutus, especially in the north-west where the government’s security operations in the past have been the most extensive and the harshest.

Estimates of the size of these ALiR forces vary. They are currently estimated at about 12,000 combatants,8 although in August 2001, the Rwandan army estimated them to have grown from 40,000 to 100,000. The numbers are exaggerated, but serve to reinforce the government’s security concerns both internally and internationally. It also serves as justification for the continuation of the central role of the military and intelligence in the state.

The most recent incursions in May–June 2001 were enfeebled. The insurgents received very little support from the local populations, who in fact co-operated with the RPF in capturing them. According to UN personnel in Rwanda, the ALiR forces that came across the border in May 2001 numbered some 4,000, but were emaciated, ill-equipped and unable to co-ordinate their efforts with ALiR in the south, from Nyungwe Forest. The fact that the attempt was a failure, however, has not diminished the concerns of the government. This is partly because the RPA was caught off guard in May. They believed they had neutralised ALiR in the Congo. But the pullout of Ugandan troops from certain areas of eastern Congo as part of the Lusaka agreement created power vacuums, which were exploited by ALiR, although not very successfully.

ALiR forces have been supported by President Joseph Kabila, who has also recruited some of the ex-FAR troops into his army.9 Rwanda believes that while the international community continues to allow these forces to operate in the Congo, Rwanda will not be secure from another genocide.

As Brigadier-General James Kabarebe (now the Acting Chief of Staff) said in August 2001:
The Interahamwe are unrepentant … They want to finish the job. If two or three of them [genocidaires] are picked up in Europe from time to time, just imagine how many are hiding in the Congo. They have received airdrops of arms from Kabila.10
The MONUC deployment in the DRC and phase III due to be implemented by mid-2002 (which will attempt the voluntary disarmament of militias in the east, including the ex-FAR and Interahamwe), if successful should address Rwanda’s key security concern. However, the chances of the process of screening and disarming running smoothly are believed to be slim, given that MONUC does not have the capacity or the mandate to enforce disarmament.

More recently, the agreement reached between President Kabila and the Ugandan-backed MLC in the margins of the Inter-Congolese Dialogue at Sun City in April 2002 has found Rwanda and its ally, the RCD-Goma, isolated diplomatically in the region. Although informal discussions continue to be held among those who were party to the agreement as well as those who were not, this development reinforced the fact that Rwanda (while engaging with Kabila’s allies in discussions) and having fallen out with Uganda, now seems diplomatically marginalised and the RCD-Goma regarded as a spoiler.

It is against this background that steps towards greater openness and democrati-sation within Rwanda have gone hand-in-hand with ongoing militarisation.

Democratisation and governance

As Rwandan society has democratised since the genocide, so issues of good governance and the development and implementation of checks and balances have emerged as part of government policy, correlating as they do with the conditionalities imposed by external multilateral and bilateral funders.

There is generally open debate relating to many of government’s policies, in ministries that are not regarded as highly sensitive and critical to national security. In those cases the checks and balances are also in place and fairly effective. However, when criticism relates to the nerve centre of the system (security), the entire military apparatus is taboo. This relates not only to allegations of corruption by colonels relating to land issues for example, but also to the military’s involvement in the Congo. In other areas the process is also less than transparent because of vested interests, such as the land policy, which has been frustrated by certain elements of the military, who own large tracts of land.

On the upside…

In the last three years Rwanda has embarked on a process of developing a body of rules and regulations relating to financial and administrative accountability and governance. These are new processes and invariably require sufficient capacity and control in all the ministries to be effectively implemented—something that has been identified by all as a key shortcoming. Some of these checks and balances include:11
  • the adoption of an organic budget law;
  • the adoption of a public accounts law;
  • the further strengthening of the auditor-general’s office;
  • the adoption of a law on public tendering;
  • the adoption of a medium-term expenditure framework (MTEF); and
  • the adoption and implementation of public expenditure tracking surveys.
In addition, steps have been taken to eliminate ghost employees, strengthen control over the payroll across all ministries, start the process of job classification and grading of public servants, rehabilitate justice institutions and train the judiciary, prison and police personnel, adopt and implement the law against genocide, and initiate the gacaca courts process. The gacaca are community-based courts established in 2001 aimed at reducing the backlog in the higher courts by dealing with lower-level genocidaires within their own communities.

The enactment or adoption of these laws and regulations must be seen as a process. It is a recognised fact that there are both political and technical hindrances to their full and proper implementation in the short term. These relate to the continued perception of the overarching importance of security in government circles, and hence the reasoning that military and intelligence concerns should be the top priority. This is reflected in the fact that military and intelligence matters are very rarely discussed publicly or with elements of civil society, although input and debate on other socio-economic issues occurs frequently. On a technical level, the hindrances relate to the necessity of establishing the requisite mechanisms within the various government departments and staffing them with skilled personnel. Human resource and financial capacity is a key problem highlighted by government officials. Other bodies that exercise some oversight function and are in theory independent include the Human Rights Commission.

Currently, various donors are working on developing a set of benchmarks to monitor progress on governance. In particular, the UK, Germany and the Netherlands are seeking to sign a memorandum of understanding, which would on the one hand set out the duties of the Rwandan government regarding progress on political freedom, while on the other the donors would commit to transparency and predictability. The relevant question here is whether there will be effective carrots and sticks in the process.

The holding of cell and sector elections in 1999, followed by district elections in 2001, while markers on the road to greater openness, were seriously flawed. The voting procedure—people formed queues behind their candidate of choice—denied voters their freedom of choice and the secrecy of the ballot, taken for granted in classical Western democracies. In addition, troops were deployed at all polling stations and in many areas people were compelled to vote. The electoral committees, which picked the candidates, consisted of equal numbers of military personnel and civilian administrators, while there were also civilian-clothed military personnel observing the elections.12 This is a clear indication of the central role of the military in the political life of the state. On the other hand, the elections were the first step in the creation of a more decentralised system of government, a system encouraged by the international community and seen by the state as providing an opportunity for participation of the population in civic affairs at the community level.

District counsellors in the March 2001 elections were elected through secret ballot, but mayors and other district executives were chosen by an electoral college composed of the heads of cells and sector executives who had been elected in 1999. These elections were conducted by the National Electoral Commission (NEC). The law establishing the commission mandated the NEC with a technical role to prepare, supervise and conduct the elections. The commission did more than that. It ruled on candidacies and supervised all electoral campaigns. In essence, ‘neutrality, transparency and independence’ were doubtful in terms of selecting commissioners and candidates.13

In a more positive vein, although the local election processes have been flawed, they may also set in motion a move towards greater engagement of the population at the local level, with the concomitant expectations of accountability from their elected representatives, which should develop interesting dynamics in the next elections for these councils. The next step will be to ensure that these structures function effectively and substantively. However, the close relationship between the army and the RPF has been underscored in these elections, as has the fact that the military (both the army and the intelligence agencies) form an extension of the ruling party.

On the downside…

Democratisation in Rwanda must be seen in the context of the following factors:
  • Political party activity has been banned since the inception of the Broad-Based Transitional Government, with the exception of the RPF, but the individuals belonging to the pre-genocide parties have been included in both Parliament and the government. Nevertheless, their inclusion should not be interpreted to mean that they exercise real political power. The RPF is the only party allowed to organise and the one that ultimately controls the army and the other security organs. The government is increasingly made up of people from the RPF. As a result, most of the other parties have been undermined and weakened.

  • Parliament is not an elected body. It is appointed. Parliamentary elections are only scheduled for 2003, after the government postponed the transitional period in 1999. The opposition perceived this postponement as a manifestation of the RPF’s strategy to consolidate power on all fronts.

  • The government also does not operate on a popular mandate, and it is regarded as increasingly dominated by ‘Ugandans’—anglophone Rwandan refugees from Uganda.

  • Civil society is weak and the government curtails its activities/operations—sometimes indirectly, sometimes less so.

  • Even though a number of laws are being drafted to establish procedures of good governance and financial accountability, actual decision-making processes are difficult to map out because the old informal networks of military/intelligence comrades from the old days when the RPF was operating from Uganda, continue to form the nucleus of authority. The ALiR threat from the DRC reinforces the need for policies and decisions to be centred on a small group of trusted advisers around the president.
Organised political opposition within Rwanda is severely circumscribed. The reason given by the RPF is that allowing political parties will contribute to ethnic divisions. As one representative of a non-governmental organisation said in an interview with the writer:
It cannot be that the leadership says that if I let you walk freely, you will bring divisions. I am the only man who can lead the country to unity and reconciliation … That would be another way of aiding violence.
One senior government official stressed that there were really no politics of the opposition; all political parties were being formed around individuals. Another member of civil society, reflecting the government’s perception, asked, “Does the opposition help to heal these wounds or does it confuse the people” and “Opposition for which purpose?” He added that the opposition did not have a clear-cut alternative vision of what was required to develop society. He implied, therefore, that it was unnecessary.

The failed attempt by former President Pasteur Bizimungu (a member of the RPF, but a Hutu) to establish a new political party in 2001 illustrates the growing one-party mentality of the regime. He has subsequently been accused of breaching state security, sowing seeds of division and spreading rumours that could cause fear in the population. The police say that he has also apparently been linked to a bank case in which clients lost their money. Other critics of the RPF government have also been implicated in corruption or financial scandals and elements of civil society and the international community in Rwanda see this as a means of eliminating opposition.

Although the concern about divisive politics may be a valid point, given the history of Rwanda, it also does not serve the cause of greater government legitimacy, when it manifests itself as suppression of any criticism of the ruling RPF.

The removal of the president, the speaker of the Parliament and the prime minister since 2000 is a reflection of tensions both within the RPF and among Tutsis: between the survivors (rescapés) of the genocide and the Tutsis of the diaspora, mainly those returning from Uganda. In addition, there also seems to be a rift between anglophone (Ugandan returnees) and francophone Rwandans, both those who were in the country during the genocide and those who had been refugees in francophone African countries, with the francophones feeling discriminated against.

The clamping down of opponents of the government, whether these are political figures or members of the media, signals that any political debate, if it is to happen at all, must happen outside the country. Many of the organised opposition groups are found abroad in Europe or the US, leading some inside Rwanda to refer to them, especially those active via the web, as ‘Internet oppositions’ with no real support base.

In an attempt to avoid the highly ethnic nature of the previous regime, and ascribing it to the forging of a national identity, the RPF government has sought not to engage directly the issue of ethnicity in Rwanda, preferring to identify it as a consequence of Belgium’s colonial policies. As such, it should not be difficult to uproot. “More things bind us than separate us”, says one official. One senior government official said that the key challenge facing the country was to “reconstitute the nation”. The commitment of the current regime to ignore the spectre of ethnicity that continues to permeate much of society is both short-sighted and lacking in a truthful assessment of the costs in the future.

Civil society

The various policy documents brought out by government in the last few years refer positively to the role that civil society can play in addressing the challenges facing Rwanda. This does not reflect the reality, however. As with many countries, there are elements of civil society that are clearly aligned with the government. Those that are not, and that are critical of the government, have greater difficulty when making policy input, but may also find their ability to carry out their functions severely curtailed. Individuals within organisations are targeted as a means of weakening the institution.

The case of Rwanda Newsline, an independent newspaper, is illustrative of this. Its editor, John Mugabi, was forced to flee after threats were made on his life. In other cases the government may confiscate a certain newspaper, which is known to be critical of the government, or it may withhold advertising. In the case of Umuseso, a newspaper, the government sent the Rwanda Revenue Authority to insist on tax payments when it was not liable, as it was running a deficit. However, the fact that Umuseso still operates may perhaps be attributed to the fact that certain elements within government support the need for an independent press and sometimes use them as vehicles for ‘leaking’ information. Nevertheless, because of intimidation, many journalists exercise self-censorship. Their ability to exercise some type of ‘oversight’ or watchdog function on government activities is curtailed. The print media is also not the primary means of information for the vast majority of the population. It is the radio and it is over this medium that the government has a virtual monopoly. Opposition voices are given very little opportunity to air their views.

Human rights organisations have also been targeted by the state. One such organisation, LIPRODHOR, has been refused permission to operate its human rights sensitisation programmes in one of the provinces by the prefet because of a report it issued on the poor condition of prisons—something which the authorities insist is not true. LIPRODHOR has not retracted its report and the government will not allow it to operate in that province until the matter is ‘resolved’.

A key weakness of civil society is the lack of sufficient co-operation among the various bodies to ensure a stronger and united approach to the state. Coupled to this is the fact that most of these bodies emerged in the early 1990s, so they are institutionally still young and attempting to carve a political space for themselves in what, until very recently, was a restrictive political environment.

Legitimacy

All these issues raise the question of the extent of legitimacy that the government enjoys. Clearly, it does enjoy support and legitimacy among the new elite, many of whom are returnees. That support is also evident among certain elements of the church (although relations with the Catholic Church are strained given its involvement in the genocide), as well as elements of the urban population in Kigali.

It has some legitimacy among the general population because it has brought peace and stability. The army has also gained grudging admiration for bringing order to the country, and its exploits in the Congo. The introduction of checks and balances through bodies such as the Human Rights Commission has helped to reduce the level of human rights violations by the intelligence service and the police (especially since it was amalgamated into one national body), but violations continue. The close relationship between the military and intelligence in particular and the government impacts on perceptions of its legitimacy too.

However, the perception that a small elite, primarily made up of Tutsis from Uganda runs the country, has alienated some segments of the population. Human rights organisations and representatives of foreign missions increasingly highlight the lack of clarity and transparency emanating from the government. As one foreign diplomat put it, “it is a minority regime”. As long as that is the perception, the sense of ‘threat’ and the need to exercise control over the population will continue to limit the extent of transparency and democratic oversight of the security sector, given that it will continue to be seen as the pillar of the RPF.

Militarisation

Ironically, greater openness has not brought about a significant reduction in the role of the security services or the removal of a securocratic environment. Transformation of the security services has begun and the financial controls that the government is introducing in all government departments are positive markers for the future. However, senior elements of the military and the intelligence services continue to feature prominently in government decision-making circles—a role stressed by the outstanding matter of genocidaires in the Congo and perceptions that the internal and external opposition is sowing division, which could lead to another genocide.

The army

The size of the army continues to be substantial. Rwandan authorities say it numbers about 40,000 troops. European military experts estimate it to be as high between 49,000 and 64,000.14 While there has been some demobilisation, there has also been recruitment of troops and reintegration of some of the ex-FAR soldiers (about 15,000). These have been equivalent to those demobilised. The security threat from the DRC has militated against any substantial reduction in the force. It is estimated that about 15,000 to 20,000 troops are in the DRC.15 The acting chief of staff of the army, James Kaberebe, said that without their presence in the DRC, the army may have numbered about 20,000. The longer-term aim of the military is to establish a smaller professional force of about 25,000 soldiers.16

Further demobilisation and scaling down of the army will be determined by developments in the region—in particular the disarmament and repatriation of ex-FAR and Interahamwe in the DRC and the peace process in Burundi.

An additional caveat, however, is the potential pitfalls of insufficient reintegration assistance to ex-FAR, which may also ultimately threaten peace and reconciliation. This is particularly so given the failure of the key element of the demobilisation programme (the micro-credit scheme) and the fact that it has not provided any direct reintegration support to ex-FAR members.17 If ALiR fighters are disarmed in terms of the Lusaka Ceasefire Agreement, it will add to the financial and social burden of reintegration, further depleting the Rwandan government’s meagre financial resources.

sThe official defence budget was allocated 3.8% of GDP in 2000. Yet it is widely assumed that the defence budget is bolstered by extra-budgetary income, such as from its presence in the Congo, the embargo on Burundi until the beginning of 1999, and ‘voluntary’ contributions to the military.18 At their meeting in December 2000, IMF directors expressed concern at the extra-budgetary expenditures, especially those related to the military.19 Income from the embargo on Burundi took the form of ‘taxes’ levied on lorries in transit through Rwanda to Burundi. Lorries had to obtain permission from the Ministry of Defence, the Ministry of Trade and Industry and the Directorate of Military Intelligence (DMI). A 40-tonne lorry would pay about US$2,000 in tax either to the External Security Office or to the anti-fraud unit (where several members of DMI were working). Payments are made by public enterprises, such as Rwandex (the leading coffee exporting company), Sonarwa (an insurance company) and Rwandatel (the national telephone company). Senior members of the RPF sit on these boards. This overlap of political and economic power is seen by many as confirmation of the parallel financing of the army.

The UN Panel of Experts on the Illegal Exploitation of Natural Resources and Other Forms of Wealth in the DRC has published two reports in 2001, both of which highlight the involvement of elements of the RPF and Rwandan business people in the Congo. The UN report highlights a number of linkages and a substantial degree of integration between the Rwandan military apparatus, the state bureaucracy and the business community.20 Among the people implicated by the UN report is Colonel James Kabarebe, who served in the Congo and was the RPA facilitator for some deals. He is apparently a partner in a company involved in coltan purchasing in Bukavu and Goma.21 One of the joint ventures between European coltan traders and members of the RPA and Paul Kagame’s inner circle is Eagle Wing Resources. Its representative in Kigali is Alfred Rwigema, Kagame’s brother-in-law. Rwigema buys coltan from local traders in the DRC.22

Although the degree of exploitation is difficult to determine, it is clear that the campaign in the Congo is ‘self-financing’, a term used by President Kagame, himself. Rwandan commercial interests serve the state/party rather than the individuals alone. All military experts consulted by the panel suggested that the official defence budget of Rwanda could not, on its own, cover the costs of the war and the presence of at least 20–25,000 troops in the Congo.23 The findings of the Panel were strongly denied by the Rwandan government.24

Rwanda spends about 29% of its annual budget on defence. In the 2001 fiscal year, that amounted to about US$70 million. The panel estimated that the cost of the transport of troops in the DRC would average about $21.6 million a year; while average pay and bonuses for the troops there would be about $30 million a year, and troops in Rwanda would amount to about $11.4 million.25 In 1999 Rwanda ranked fifth in the world in arms imports as a proportion of total imports (11.9% of total imports).26

A substantial reallocation is projected in public expenditure from military spending, which will fall from 3.8% of GDP in 2000 to 2.3% in 2004, towards the social sectors. These will rise from 4.1% in 2000 to 6.9% of GDP in 2004.27 Such a reallocation is essential to focus more resources on social services. Certainly, unless the security situation greatly deteriorates, the government’s budget will reflect the necessary decreases. However, one also expects that extra-budgetary military expenditure will be reduced in the event of a significant improvement in the security situation on Rwanda’s borders—except that the involvement of people connected to the government (specifically the RPF) and the military in the exploitation of the Congo, may itself have become a prime justification for the continuation of the army’s involvement there.

Other security actors

In what is clearly a positive step for good governance and the return of rule of law, a new police force was formed in 2000, shorn of its military past and with a new mission—to work “in partnership with our communities and [be] accountable to them for safeguarding the Human Rights of all people in Rwanda, upholding the law firmly and fairly, protecting people and their property and detecting offenders”. The police force has some 5,000 officers, of whom 2,700 are formerly from the army, or the gendarmerie. The rest are from civilian backgrounds. The aim is to make the force more civilian-based: the police has stopped recruiting from among ex-military officers.

A worrying development, however, is the re-emergence of local defence forces (LDFs). The LDF was created as a kind of citizens’ militia soon after the new government came to power in 1994 to protect against the remnants of the genocidaires. They were disbanded in 1995 as the police services became operational again.

However, when the insurgency began in 1997–98 the government organised the LDFs again. From 1998 RPF cadres were involved in establishing LDFs with the support of the army. This exercise formed part of the process of ensuring electoral victory for the RPF.28 They seem to have two functions:
  • to assist the police in its policing function. Given that they come from the local community they are assumed to be the eyes and the ears of the police. They do not have the power of arrest but notify the police in the event of a problem. In many areas they have been reasonably effective in helping the police maintain law and order; and

  • to assist the army in tracking down insurgents.
They are armed but unpaid and poorly trained. There is no screening process for recruitment, although, because they come from the community, the community would apparently not allow unsuitable people to assume such positions.29 This is not always the case in practice. They receive two or three months training from the army and work under their supervision or that of the police. At the district level there is a commander who is a member of the police. There is usually one unit made up of three persons for every ten houses. They do not all carry weapons but each unit has at least one weapon between them. They are normally drawn from the ranks of the unemployed, which means that there have been instances where they have abused their positions. It is not unheard of that they use these weapons to earn money. Some of them are informants to the RPF/A.30

Perceptions of the LDF vary. Some see them as effective in helping to address the manpower shortcomings of the police in both rural and urban areas. Others consider them as “dangerous forces and compare them to the former Interahamwe, as their modus operandi is very similar”.31 The truth is somewhere in-between. Many, no doubt, have been involved in killings, rapes and abuses. In some cases the state has not taken harsh and immediate action to arrest and charge perpetrators. That has created the impression among the population that these actions are condoned by the state. Their establishment and the move by the state to try to regulate their operation, however, is creating an armed force in all communities. Insufficient control and the possibility of weapons proliferation is a key concern in a state that has expressed its commitment to democratic governance and the rule of law.

Part of the restructuring of the security services has seen the re-organisation of the intelligence services in 2000 into a more streamlined operation within the president’s office. The service, however, still continues to wield great power, with senior officials within its directorates playing very influential roles in top government circles, some would say even greater than certain ministers. While reports of the Human Rights Commission have highlighted abuses by the intelligence services—itself a statement of how far society has come in terms of openness—they nevertheless continue to be feared in Rwanda, because of the role they continue to play in tracking down opponents of the government and their wide net of intelligence collecting throughout the state.

Conclusion

Rwanda continues to be a polarised society. In such a climate, any discussion of reconstruction entails an analysis based on mutually reinforcing pillars of a strong economic recovery and a strong peace. If either is fragile, the success of reconstruction will be compromised. Rwanda has not achieved a sustainable peace yet. This manifests itself in the oscillation between genuine reform and adoption of policies and systems aimed at improving control and accountability, and the unwillingness to apply those very same principles as rigorously when it comes to matters of security.

The international community has committed significant funds to the process of democratisation, good governance and poverty reduction. These have helped Rwanda to make progress in opening up and creating a relatively secure and stable political environment for its people. The points of concern expressed by many diplomatic representatives and employees of donor agencies in Rwanda relating to the perceived omnipotence of the intelligence service, the prioritisation of military matters through ‘parallel financing’, and the unwillingness to countenance opposition need to be raised strongly and forcefully with the authorities. However, if the situation in the Congo—both disarmament, demobilisation, reintegration, resettlement and repatriation (DDRRR) and an internal political settlement—remains unresolved, the arguments of the more hardline security hawks in decision-making circles in Rwanda will continue to hold sway. In that regard, it is also important that the international community, and especially states in the region, insist that Kabila cease providing assistance to ALiR, a situation which only makes DDRRR more difficult to carry out. Efforts by countries like South Africa to ensure that agreements on the future of Congo are all-inclusive and take into account the role and interests of their non-Congolese supporters will be critical not only for the future of the Congo, but for efforts to establish a genuine democratic state in Rwanda—one which will increasingly have less reason to regard legitimate opposition as seeking to subvert the state, and will have no justification for continuing to view military options and the militarisation of civilians as the only way to maintain its position of power.

Notes

  1. IMF, An approach to the poverty reduction action plan for Rwanda, November 2000, p v.

  2. IMF, Rwanda to receive US$810 million in debt relief, press release no 00/84, 22 December 2000.

  3. UNDP, Human development report 2001: Making new technologies work for human development. New York and Oxford, Oxford University Press, 2001, p 157.

  4. <www.worldbank.org/data/databytopic/ssa_ wdi.pdf>

  5. OECD, Development assistance 1991. Efforts and policies of the DAC member states. Paris, OECD, 1999, p 189.

  6. UNDP, op cit, p 193.

  7. <www.oecd.org/gif/M00001000/M00001561. gif>

  8. International Crisis Group, Temps Couvert sur Sun City: La Refondation Necessaire du Processus de Paix Congolais, ICG Report Afrique, 44, 14 May 2002, p12.

  9. ALIR was placed on the US State Department list of ‘Other terrorist groups’ in November 2001.

  10. The Independent, 4 August 2001, on the UNHCR site.

  11. Ministry of Finance and Economic Planning, Rwanda development indicators 2001, 4, July 2001, p 198.

  12. See International Crisis Group, ‘Consensual Democracy’ in post-genocide Rwanda: Evaluating the March 2001 district elections, Africa Report, 34, Nairobi/Brussels, 9 October 2001, p 11.

  13. Ibid., p 12. For more detail on the procedure of appointing the NEC and the composition see pp 12-14.

  14. International Institute for Strategic Studies, The military balance 2000/2001, London, Oxford University Press, 2000, p 279.

  15. Ibid.

  16. Interview with acting chief of staff, November 2001, Kigali.

  17. See Kingma Kees, The Rwanda demobilisation and reintegration programme. Evaluation report, prepared for the UNDP, 6 July 2001, pp 5-6.

  18. F Reyntjens, Small states in an unstable region—Rwanda and Burundi 1999-2000, Current African Issues, 23, Nordiska Afrikainstitutet, Uppsala, 2000, p 10.

  19. IMF, Public Information Notice, no 01/31, 27 March 2001.

  20. The RPA finances the war through (1) direct commercial activities, (2) profit from shares it holds in some companies, (3) direct payments from RCD-Goma, (4) taxes collected by the ‘Congo desk’ and other payments made by individuals for protection RPA provides to their business, and (5) direct uptake by soldiers from the land.

  21. UNSC, op cit, 12 April 2001, p 18.

  22. International Peace Information Service, Supporting the war economy in the DRC: European companies and the coltan trade, January 2002, pp 23-25.

  23. United Nations Security Council, Report of the Panel of Experts on the illegal exploitation of natural resources and other forms of wealth of the Democratic Republic of Congo, S/2001/357, 12 April 2001, p 27.

  24. See, Rwanda Government Reaction to the UN Panel of Experts’ Report, 5 December 2001, <www.rwanda1.com/government/07_11_01_rwarespo.htm>

  25. UN Panel of Experts, op cit, 12 April 2001, p 27.

  26. World military expenditures and arms transfers 1999-2000, <www.state.gov/documents/ organization/9242.pdf>

  27. IMF, An approach to the poverty reduction action plan for Rwanda, November 2000, p 18.

  28. ICG report, 9 October 2001, p 7.

  29. Interview, Secretary-General of Local Government, Kigali, 27 November 2001.

  30. Interview, Kigali, 21 November 2001.

  31. Ibid.