Rwanda and Burundi:
Historical and Historiographical Explanations for Ethnic Violence
Contents
Introduction
p. 2
Rwanda: History and Historiography
p. 7
Burundi: History and Historiography
p. 10
The Hamitic Hypothesis in 1990s Ethnic Violence
p. 13
The Legacy of 1959
p. 20
Holding on to Power
p. 25
Fear and Opportunism
p. 32
Conclusion
p. 38
Bibliography
p. 40
1
Introduction
In 1994 the tiny African nation of Rwanda and its neighbouring Burundi were launched
into global attention as violence broke out on a massive scale. The independence of the
two countries from Belgium in 1962 had been largely overlooked by the international
concern over the Congo, a far more politically significant central African country. Now
the international community was paying for its ignorance of the region’s politics, as the
800,000 deaths in Rwanda were rather hesitantly labelled as genocide, and the
introduction of the United Nations Assistance Mission for Rwanda (UNAMIR) was
given a late, weak mandate to stop the destruction. The misunderstanding of what was
going on was crucial; the events were portrayed as a war between the legitimate leaders
of Rwanda and an invading force, the Rwandan Patriotic Front (RPF). In reality the
Hutu leaders of Rwanda were organising the complete destruction of the country’s ethnic
minority, the Tutsis. In Burundi the roles were reversed; under international pressure to
democratise, Tutsis were desperately clinging to power by using violence against the
Hutus. The events in Rwanda in 1994 have officially been called genocide, while in
Burundi ‘acts of genocide against the Tutsi minority were committed in Burundi in
October 1993’1 following the assassination of the Hutu president.
Many African wars have been forgotten about in mainstream Western thought, however
it is still considered important to establish the reasons behind the genocidal psychology
of Hutus in Rwanda and Tutsis in Burundi in the 1990s. There are three main reasons for
this. Firstly, the West is still seeking to absolve itself from responsibility for the
disastrous international reaction to the Rwandan Genocide, not helped by the accounts
of UNAMIR commander Romeo Dallaire nor provocatively-titled books such as Linda
International Commission of Inquiry for Burundi: Final Report,
http://www.usip.org/files/file/resources/collections/commissions/Burundi-Report.pdf [accessed 18th
March].
1
2
Melvern’s A People Betrayed: The Role of the West in the Rwandan Genocide.2 Secondly, did
Europe have a greater, longer-term role in sowing the seeds of ethnic hate? Equating the
Belgian introduction of identity cards defining Rwandans as Hutu, Tutsi or Twa in 1935,
and their continued existence and use sixty years later, seems an obvious and natural
connection between the colonial regime and post-colonial ethnic violence. Finally,
Rwanda and Burundi have both been left with tattered social fabrics, in which both
countries are seeking to move beyond ethnicity to form a common national identity. The
post-genocide Rwandan cabinet, led by Paul Kagame, consisted of sixteen Hutu
ministers and six Tutsi ministers. According to president Pasteur Bizimungu, a Hutu,
‘there are authorities in this country, Hutu and Tutsi, who are putting in place policy so
that people may share the same fundamental rights and obligations irrespective of their
ethnic background’.3 Yet despite the rhetoric of equality and democracy, Kagame’s
pursuit of exiled Hutus into the Democratic Republic of the Congo, and more recently
the elimination of his political opponents in the run-up to his presidential re-election in
2010, have left many doubting his commitment to democracy and fearing the return of
ethnic dominance and subordination, this time in favour of the Tutsis. In Burundi,
widely supported moves towards democracy in the early 1990s were shattered with the
assassination of the moderate Hutu president Melchior Ndadaye by Tutsi extremists. Is it
truly possible to simply forget about ethnicity after around a hundred years of it being
the sole concerning factor of Rwandan and Burundian politics?
Historians have to address these modern political issues, while at the same time
transcending them, to establish how genocidal violence came to be carried out in
Rwanda and Burundi in 1994. Both sides of the current debate can be equated to popular
Linda Melvern, A People Betrayed: The Role of the West in the Rwandan Genocide, Zed (London, 2000).
Pasteur Bizimungu, in Philip Gourevitch, We Wish to Inform You That Tomorrow We Will be Killed With Our
Families, Picador (London, 1999), p. 222.
2
3
3
European colonial theories of African society, neither of which can truly explain why so
many Rwandans and Burundians would become involved in killing friends, neighbours
and even spouses. On the one hand, seeing the Belgian introduction of identity cards as
the decisive factor in creating ethnic tension and violence inevitably removes African
agency, and suggests that even fifty years after colonialism the people of Rwanda and
Burundi were still passive victims of imperialism, unable to see themselves in any other
context other than that created for them. On the other hand, the media portrayal of the
Rwandan Genocide showed the events as simply ‘another African tribal conflict’. As
Christopher Taylor argues, ‘where Africa is concerned, ‘heart of darkness’ images
continue to lie close to the surface of consciousness’.4 The idea of basic tribal instincts as
the motive for violence in Africa, present in media representations of African wars since
independence, would not have looked out of place in colonial racial theory of the turn of
the century. Historians of Africa are therefore faced with the challenge of trying to
promote African agency while at the same time denying that African people are
inherently violent. Nowhere is this challenge more problematic than in explaining the
reasons behind the ethnic violence that has plagued Rwanda and Burundi.
This dissertation will use a wide range of sources in an attempt to accurately balance the
causes of the ethnic violence in Rwanda and Burundi in the 1990s. Did Hutu leaders in
Rwanda perpetrate the deaths of 800,000 Tutsis and Hutu ibyitso (accomplices) within the
space of 100 days because of ethnic divisions and distrust created by colonialism, or
because of more immediate political concerns? Did the masses of ordinary Hutus follow
them because of a historic fear of subordination to the Tutsis, or because of their loyalty
to leadership and the opportunity of grasping material rewards? And in Burundi, did
Tutsi extremists kill Ndadaye and ignite a new civil war due to their inability to accept
4
Christopher Taylor, Sacrifice as Terror: The Rwandan Genocide of 1994, Berg (Oxford, 1999), p. 3.
4
anything other than the power colonialism had given them, or out of fear that Tutsis
would soon become oppressed as they had been in Rwanda? Sources coming from
leaders of Hutu Power and propagandists for Radio Télévision Libre des Milles Collines
(RTLM) and the newspaper Kangura will demonstrate how those in positions of power
saw the Tutsi threat, and the ways they incited hatred of the Tutsi amongst the Rwandan
population. Emerging accounts of ordinary Rwandan people who turned into genocidaires
(killers) will show how and why they turned on people they had lived alongside for many
years. For those who fought for the RPF and moderate Hutus who formed the postgenocide government, their accounts demonstrate a view that for some, ethnicity was not
the most decisive factor in Rwandan and Burundian politics. Meanwhile sources of
Westerners caught up in the region’s history – such as Dallaire, the International
Criminal Tribunal for Rwanda, and colonial officials and missionaries – can play a
decisive role in helping us interpret the thoughts of participants in the ethnic violence.
Using all these sources I will critique the current historiography of Rwanda and Burundi,
and offer my own explanations of why the violence of the 1990s happened.
In chapters 1 and 2 this dissertation shall outline the histories of Rwanda and Burundi
from the pre-colonial era, through the age of German and Belgian imperial rule to
independence and the events of the 1990s, and briefly discuss the current
historiographical debates surrounding the region. Although the two countries have
similar ethnic make-ups, the histories of Rwanda and Burundi are fundamentally
different, not only in the formation and composition of post-colonial regimes but also in
the structure of society in the pre-colonial and colonial eras. I will consider the two
countries’ histories separately so as to avoid making assumptions on the causes of ethnic
violence in each.
5
In chapters 3 and 4 this dissertation will move on to assess the impact of the European
colonial legacy on post-colonial ethnic violence. Firstly I will assess the significance of
European racial ideology, more specifically the Hamitic hypothesis, and its impact on the
population of Rwanda and Burundi. Were such ideas of racial superiority and inferiority
still operational in Rwandan and Burundian society at the time of ethnic violence in the
1990s? Were these ideas artificially created by imperialists, or did they exist in the region
prior to colonialism? And did Tutsis, Hutus, or both, consciously and willingly embrace
these racial ideas, and use them in post-colonial government? I will also consider the
legacy the Rwandan revolution of 1959 and events in the region in the 1960s had on
ethnic violence in the 1990s. Did the sudden shift in Belgian support from Tutsis to
Hutus in Rwanda in 1959 create an insurmountable divide? And did Hutu propagandists
use the memory of the Inyenzi (cockroaches) attacks of the 1960s to stir up fear of Tutsi
domination in the form of the RPF?
In chapters 5 and 6 this dissertation will look at possible reasons for ethnic violence
unconnected to the colonial era, from the point of view of first senior politicians and
then ordinary civilians. Did Hutu Power extremists in Rwanda see the implementation of
the Arusha Accords as an inevitable move towards Tutsi domination? Were the RPF a
foreign, Anglophone invading force, an idea fuelled by the Hutus’ French allies? Did
ordinary Hutus participate in genocide not because the Hamitic hypothesis had created a
deep-rooted ethnic hatred, but simply for material gains? Was overpopulation a
significant issue? And did the people’s unquestioning loyalty to authority cause them to
blindly follow propaganda to kill?
6
Rwanda: History and Historiography
A teleological approach to Rwandan history would suggest that the 1994 genocide was a
quite logical outcome of ethnic differences, while pinning the blame firmly on European
colonialism for putting those differences at the forefront of Rwandan society. In precolonial Rwandan society the Tutsi, making up just 15 per cent of the population, were
pastoralists, whereas in contrast the ethnicity majority, the Hutus, were cattle-herders.
Although the Tutsis enjoyed the most senior positions within society, such as holding the
position of mwami (king), the situation was not nearly so rigid. Hutus could become as
rich and powerful as Tutsis.
This changed with the arrival of German colonialism. As we will see later, the Tutsis
fitted European ideas of leadership, and the German administration was woefully
understaffed. Tutsi hegemony was reinforced, and the opportunities of social mobility
for Hutus were weakened. After the First World War the Belgian mandate over RuandaUrundi extended Tutsi dominance, and the introduction of identity cards fixed Hutus
and Tutsis in place. Until the final years of colonialism Tutsis were treated as superior,
and given the best opportunities in local government and education. To many historians
the effects of the colonial regime were significant in the genocide of 1994. Gerard
Prunier argues that ‘the result of this heavy bombardment with highly value-laden
stereotypes for some sixty years ended by inflating the Tutsi cultural ego inordinately and
crushing Hutu feelings until they coalesced into an aggressively resentful inferiority
complex’.5 The scale of the changes in Rwandan society from the arrival of the Germans
to the departure of the Belgians cannot be disputed. However their significance by 1994
is still the subject of great discussion and one this dissertation will analyse later.
5
Gerard Prunier, The Rwanda Crisis: History of a Genocide, Hurst (London, 1997), p. 9.
7
The Belgian approach to decolonisation in the period around 1960 can also be seen to
have had a dramatic impact on post-colonial Rwanda. Following the Second World War,
ideas of racial or ethnic superiority were no longer in keeping with world politics. Now
the priority was given to self-rule, and in Rwanda that meant ensuring Hutu control after
independence. As Tutsi elites spoke of socialism and pursued the support of Soviet
Russia, Belgium was even keener to transfer power to Hutus. With the growth of a Hutu
counter-elite in the 1940s and 1950s, the Belgian administration orchestrated a ‘social
revolution’ to bring the Hutus to power.6 Between the 1959 revolution and late 1964 a
total of 336,000 Rwandan Tutsis7 fled into exile in Burundi, Uganda, Tanzania and the
Congo.
Under the first Hutu president, Gregoire Kayibanda, Hutus were actively promoted
within Rwandan society, while Tutsis were oppressed. The Bahutu Manifesto of 1957,
the first known document to challenge the established colonial hierarchy, showed the
importance of ethnic proportionality in the minds of Hutu elites. The identity cards
introduced by the colonial regime must be kept for fear of ‘preventing the statistical law
from establishing the reality of facts’.8 Despite this Kayibanda’s government deliberately
underestimated the Tutsi percentage of the population, limiting them to a quota of just 9
per cent of school and university places. The Hutus’ idea of democracy came under some
criticism, with Front Commun, a coalition of parties opposing Kayibanda’s Parmehutu,
arguing that the post-colonial system was no better than the old feudalism.9
Ethnic differences remained a priority in Rwanda throughout the post-colonial period.
Under Juvenal Habyarimana, the Second Republic redefined Tutsis from a race to an
Mahmood Mamdani, When Victims Become Killers, Princeton University Press (Princeton, 2002), p. 125.
Prunier, The Rwanda Crisis, p. 62.
8
Bahutu Manifesto of 1957, in Gourevitch, We Wish to Inform You, p. 58.
9
Rene Lermarchand, Rwanda and Burundi, Pall Mall Press (London, 1970), p. 189.
6
7
8
ethnicity.10 This was a move away from the colonial ideology, in that it saw the Tutsis as
natives of Rwanda, rather than as foreigners. This would suggest that even for repressive
Hutu leaders such as Habyarimana, the colonial ideology portraying Tutsis as foreign
invaders was not always followed. The Second Republic’s acceptance of Tutsis as
Rwandan natives would go some way to supporting Mahmood Mamdani’s view that the
war which broke out between the RPF and Rwandan government forces happened
during a time of reform, rather than repression.11
The invasion of the RPF from Uganda in 1990 was the short-term trigger that would
lead to the genocide four years later. Unlike Habyarimana, many Hutu extremists still saw
the Tutsis as a race alien to Rwanda, and the RPF invasion invoked memories of a return
of Tutsi hegemony. Hutu leaders feared Habyarimana’s apparent reforms and steps
towards democracy, and removed him from power, blaming it on the Tutsis to provoke
fear amongst ordinary Hutus. Later I will analyse whether the genocide that resulted
from Habyarimana’s death was set in the context of colonial racial ideology, or the more
immediate threats Hutus were faced with in the 1990s. Firstly though I will briefly look at
the history of Burundi, to assess how it differs from that of Rwanda and why we cannot
simply conclude the reasons for ethnic violence as being identical in each country.
10
11
Mamdani, When Victims Become Killers, p. 138.
Ibid., p. 159.
9
Burundi: History and Historiography
Rwanda and Burundi are inexorably linked, and inevitably the ethnic violence of the
1990s is often treated as having stemmed from the same problems in both countries.
However the histories of the two nations have many fundamental differences, and as
Philip Gourevitch argues, ‘the differences in their histories are often more telling than
the similarities’.12 In this chapter I will briefly track the alternative history of Burundi and
analyse historians’ interpretations of the causes of the country’s post-colonial troubles.
Burundi’s rather neglected place in the historiography of the Great Lakes region has led
to some reductive assumptions being made about its history. With a population
composed of 84 per cent Hutu and 15 per cent Tutsi, just like in Rwanda, it is easy to
assume that the countries had been virtually identical since the pre-colonial era, and that
the reasons for ethnic violence would be the same. This is clearly not the case. For
example as recently as 1993, when Rwanda was in the middle of civil war, Burundi was
making what was described at the time as a ‘remarkably smooth transition’13 to a
multiparty system. And while Hutus in Rwanda were keen to maintain their own grip on
power, the new Hutu president of Burundi was proclaiming that ‘this is not a victory for
any single group; it is a victory for democracy’.14
The voluntary end of a Tutsi dictatorship by Pierre Buyoya and the triumph of Melchior
Ndadaye in free and fair elections in 1993 was a course of events unparalleled in the
history of either Burundi or Rwanda. Looking beyond the salience of ethnic differences,
there are historical precedents for such a conciliatory approach. In contrast to Rwanda,
pre-colonial Burundian society was not so dominated by ethnic distinction. This was due
Philip Gourevitch, We Wish to Inform You, p. 53.
Rene Lermarchand, Burundi: Ethnic Conflict and Genocide, Cambridge University Press (Cambridge, 1996),
p. 181.
14
Melchior Ndadaye, in Lermarchand, Burundi, p. 184.
12
13
10
to the existence of a ganwa class; princely elites who fought for regional power. Although
the same European missionaries and administrators were there with the same ideas of
racial superiority and inferiority, any difference between Tutsi and Hutu in Burundi was
of secondary concern. The ganwa had to rely on the support of both Tutsis and Hutus,
while the mwami also ‘served as a powerful unifying bond and a prime focus of popular
loyalties’.15 The arrival of colonialists only served to strengthen the power of the ganwa,
but ensured that in times of difficulty Tutsi and Hutu would unite against their princely
authorities.
As a result, by the time of independence political parties were formed along ganwa lines,
rather than being a simple translation of ethnic to political support. The two major
parties were UPRONA, formed mainly from the Bezi faction, and the PDC, a mostly
Batare movement. In elections in September 1961 UPRONA triumphed with 80 per cent
of the vote, led by the charismatic Louis Rwagasore. Like Ndadaye over thirty years later,
Rwagasore was a popular and unifying figure; a Tutsi married to a Hutu, he sought to
prevent ethnic divisions becoming a concern in Burundi as they had in Rwanda.
The assassination of Rwagasore in a PDC plot did not reignite the rivalry between the
Bezi and the Batare. Instead, it pulled apart the glue that held Hutus and Tutsis within
UPRONA together. Rene Lemarchand identifies three crises brought about by
Rwagasore’s death.16 With no-one else as adept as Rwagasore at uniting ethnic groups,
there was a crisis of authority over who should lead UPRONA. A crisis of legitimacy
eventually saw the abolition of the monarchy in 1966, ending the last stabilising political
institution in the country. Most importantly in my opinion, a crisis of confidence arising
15
16
Lermarchand, Burundi, p. 39.
Ibid., p. 60.
11
from the Rwandan revolution meant that both ethnic groups hoped to gain power for
themselves. Displaced Rwandan Tutsi refugees arriving from the north further
contributed to the tension. After an attempted Hutu coup failed, Tutsis seized power,
abolished the monarchy and wiped out a generation of Hutu intellectuals and elites.
As Michel Micombero became Burundi’s first Tutsi president, the country took a
remarkably similar course to that of the Hutu-controlled Rwanda. But as part of the
ethnic minority Micombero needed a greater control over his subjects, and repression
against the Hutu was a significant part of the First Republic, most notably in 1972.
During later repression in 1988, Buyoya dismissed ethnic difference with the simple
claim that ‘We are all Barundi’.17 Although Buyoya tried to deny an ethnic basis for
repression, and Ndadaye thought ethnic difference had been overcome with his election
in 1993, it was clearly still prevalent in Burundian society. The assassination of Ndadaye
and the civil war that followed showed that large numbers of Tutsis and Hutus did not
consider power-sharing as a valid option. Now I will analyse the European impact on
ethnic violence in Rwanda and Burundi in the 1990s, beginning with the significance of
the imposition of an ethnic hierarchy.
17
Pierre Buyoya, in Lermarchand, Burundi, p. 9.
12
The Hamitic Hypothesis in 1990s Ethnic Violence
This chapter examines whether the Hamitic hypothesis promoted by the colonial regime
was prevalent in the minds of Hutus and Tutsis in Rwanda and Burundi and motivated
ethnic violence in the early 1990s. Commenting on the discourse of Hutu extremists in
Rwanda, Christopher Taylor remarks that one is led to believe that ‘the narratives, far
from being recent creations, date from late colonial times’.18 For those who argue that
ethnic violence in Rwanda and Burundi was an outcome of the colonial era, the use of
mythico-history by extremists is a clear example of how European racial ideas infiltrated
African psychology. In this section I will look at the extent to which ideas of racial
inequality were entirely a European imposition, and how much these ideas were still
prevalent in the minds of both extremist leaders and ordinary civilians by the 1990s.
As has been already discussed, the categories of Hutu, Tutsi and Twa existed in the Great
Lakes region prior to colonialism. Yet the consensus amongst historians was that these
categories were connected as much to social standing as ethnicity. A Hutu could become
a Tutsi through marriage, and physical differences were not a bar to social mobility. It is
of course difficult to dispute this argument; accounts of pre-colonial society are limited
and any accounts of that period are obviously tinged with the experience of the twentieth
century. One thing is clear though; although Hutus and Tutsis may not have seen the
significance of physical and material differences in ethnic terms, European colonialists
did. In 1931, the Belgian administrator Pierre Ryckmans argued:
The Batutsi were meant to reign. Their fine presence is in itself enough to give
them a great prestige vis-à-vis the inferior races which surround [them]… It is not
18
Taylor, Sacrifice as Terror, p. 104.
13
surprising that those good Bahutu, less intelligent, more simple, more spontaneous,
more trusting, have let themselves be enslaved without ever daring to revolt.19
Ryckmans’ ideas were standard beliefs for their time. The colonial rhetoric was clear.
Tutsis had come from the north, from Ethiopia, or Asia Minor, or perhaps from even
further away. They were, to European minds, clearly more advanced than Hutus or
Twas, in fact they had brought civilisation to the backward societies which were native to
the region. They also supposedly looked like Europeans; in fact they were often
described as Europeans under a black skin. Coinciding with Africa-wide moves towards
indirect rule following World War I, in which colonial powers distributed some local
power to local elites, the Tutsis seemed like the natural choice to lead Ruanda-Urundi
under a Belgian mandate.20
By the 1990s the colonial experience was clearly still an area of great discontent for
Hutus in Rwanda. Propagandists sought to invoke memories of colonial repression
through the radio and newspapers. Ironically the best example of this comes from a
Belgian, Georges Ruggiu, the only non-Rwandan charged for involvement in the
genocide. He clearly saw the significance of imperialism in fostering the Tutsis’
superiority complex:
It is not only today that the RPF’s Inyenzi Batutsis want to take and monopolize
power in order to oppress the Hutus and cast democracy out of the window, the
Batutsi’s superiority complex has been around for a very long time. Thus, they
established schools like the famous Astrida Secondary School in Butare and the
19
20
Pierre Ryckmans, in Prunier, The Rwanda Crisis, p. 11.
Prunier, The Rwanda Crisis, pp. 26-27
14
Ishuri ry’Indatwa, the elite Nyanza School in Nyabisindu, opened in 1907. The
schools were not for everybody, much less for the Hutus, who had been enslaved
for centuries and had no access to these schools. According to the feudal colonial
legend, the schools were meant for only those born to govern, in other words,
Tutsi children considered as the most intelligent. It is this superiority complex
which set the Tutsis apart because, even today, many of them are still convinced of
their intellectual superiority to the rest of the Rwandans.21
It wasn’t just Hutu extremists who made use of imperial racial ideology. RPF founder
Tito Rutaremara cited it as the reason for Rwanda’s ethnic tensions:
People of our political generation, whose consciousness was formed in exile, as
refugees, despised the monarchists – despised all the old colonial ethnic
corruption, with the Hamitic hypothesis and so on.22
Here we can see participants on both sides of Rwanda’s civil war evoking memories of
colonialism and the ethnic tensions it apparently created. But there is a crucial difference
between the two accounts, one that has played a major role in the historiography of
Belgian imperial rule. Whereas Rutaremara, a Tutsi, is keen to emphasise that the Hamitic
hypothesis was forced on all members of Rwandan and Burundian society by colonial
oppressors, Ruggiu implies that Tutsis were equal partners in contributing to the
widening of ethnic differences in the colonial era. As we will see, Tutsi complicity during
colonialism was at the forefront of Hutu political thinking from the late colonial period
right up until the 1990s. By the late 1950s, Hutus saw not only Belgians but also Tutsis as
21
22
Georges Ruggiu, RTLM Tape 0004, http://surplusknowledge.com [accessed March 9th 2011].
Tito Rutaremara, in Gourevitch, We Wish to Inform You, p. 212.
15
colonialists and oppressors. The extent to which Tutsis contributed and took advantage
of the Hamitic hypothesis has been debated amongst historians, and is an important
current within Rwandan politics today. As Nigel Eltringham argues, ‘if this were the case,
then the ‘Tutsi élite’ can be portrayed as having benefited from the policies of ethnic
discrimination that would lead, ultimately, to the 1994 genocide’.23 Even in an era in
which Africans supposedly had little say in their own affairs, the conception that Tutsis
were prepared to capitalise on every opportunity to gain at the expense of the Hutus was
one which would last for a long time after they lost their power.
Indeed, this concept continued to be articulated in Hutu-dominated post-colonial
Rwanda up until the time of the genocide. The popular newspaper Kangura regurgitated
negative stereotypes of Tutsis, based on the Hutus’ colonial experience. In the Hutu 10
Commandments of 1990, the Hutus were warned against working with Tutsi
businessmen:
All Tutsis are dishonest in business. Their only goal is ethnic superiority. We have
learned this by experience from experience.24
This source is just one of many examples of Hutu propaganda encouraging a direct
comparison to the Tutsis’ domination of the colonial era. Ordinary Rwandan Hutus also
associated Tutsis with the characteristics of self-importance and materialism. This is
evident in a range of sources, for example:
Nigel Eltringham, Accounting for Horror: Post-Genocide Debates in Rwanda, Pluto Press (London, 2004), p.
169.
24
Kangura No. 6, December 1990 http://surplusknowledge.com [accessed March 9th 2011].
23
16
The Tutsis don’t want to share this country with another race. They want us to be
their slaves again like in the old days.25
Our Tutsi neighbours, we knew they were guilty of no misdoing, but we thought
all Tutsis at fault for our constant troubles.26
If they had agreed to leave – for Burundi or other likely destinations – they could
have gone and saved their lives. And we wouldn’t have piled up the fatalities of the
massacres. But they couldn’t imagine living there without their ancient traditions
and their herds of cows.27
The similarities between the assumed colonial characteristics and the thoughts of Hutus
in the 1990s are striking. Despite having lost their political control of the country over
thirty years previously, Tutsis were still seen as power-hungry and unable to live without
their possessions and privileges. This collectivisation of Tutsis helped fuel the genocide;
propagandists could argue that Rwandan Tutsi were ibyitso and in league with the RPF, in
the context of the continued prevalence of ideas of Tutsi supremacy, Hutu civilians were
quick to embrace this rhetoric in 1994.
Here we have seen examples where both Hutu extremist leaders and ordinary Hutu
citizens were using the rhetoric of European racial theories as late as the 1990s. But was
this a conscious decision based on a genuine resentment of colonial policy? And if so,
why did it take thirty-five years for such feelings to turn into genocide? Was it in fact the
case that the cauldron of post-colonial Rwanda actually fuelled the ethnic violence?
Louis, in Feargal Keane, Season of Blood: A Rwandan Journey, Penguin (London, 1996), p. 165.
Léopord Twagirayezu, in Jean Hatzfeld, A Time for Machetes: The Rwandan Genocide: the Killers Speak,
Serpents Tail (London, 2008), p. 113.
27
Ignace Rukiramacumu, in Hatzfeld, A Time for Machetes, p. 217.
25
26
17
Following the Revolution, a large number of both Hutus and Tutsis had been exiled into
Uganda, where in 1987 some of them formed the RPF. How did the experience of exile
affect Rwandan’s sense of being Hutu or Tutsi? According to Rutaremara, the Rwandans
in exile looked beyond ethnic divisions:
Living outside Rwanda, you don’t see each other as Hutu or Tutsi, because you see
everyone else as strangers and you are brought together as Rwandans, and because
for the Ugandans, a Rwandan is a Rwandan.28
We can see that the RPF saw itself as a Rwandan nationalist movement, the first in the
nation’s history. It had been founded due to the encroaching oppression of Banyarwanda
in Uganda, and it expressed the desire of many Banyarwanda to return to their homeland.
To Hutus in Rwanda however, the RPF was simply a Tutsi invading force intent on
restoring Tutsi hegemony, and all Tutsis within Rwanda were by definition accomplices.
Here we can see two different views of the importance of ethnicity. To those who had
lived inside Rwanda there were clear differences between Hutu and Tutsi - not just
differences in social standing that could be addressed through reconciliation, as in the
pre-colonial era, but also inherent differences in characteristics and behaviour that, by
definition, could never be overcome. Yet to the Hutus and Tutsis who had left Rwanda
during the upheaval of independence, ethnicity was not a barrier in the formation of
nationhood or government.
So, had European racial ideology really become rooted within Rwandan and Burundian
society by the end of colonialism? We should go back to the colonial era and consider
the thoughts of the European missionary Louis de Lacger:
28
Rutaremara, in Gourevitch, We Wish to Inform You, p. 210.
18
One of the most surprising phenomena of Rwanda’s human geography is surely
the contrast between the plurality of races and the sentiment of national unity. The
natives of this country genuinely have the feeling of forming but one people …
There are few people in Europe among whom one finds these three factors of
national cohesion: one language, one faith, one law.29
Rwanda was the only African country that achieved independence not through a
nationalist campaign, but a social revolution that reversed ethnic domination. In Burundi,
violent opposition to a nationalist independence movement led to an ethnic war for
power, eventually won by the Tutsis. Yet just decades earlier, de Lacger had seen a level
of unity between Tutsi and Hutu sufficient to foster a national identity. After centuries of
informal Tutsi hegemony, had decades of formal control and imperial racial rhetoric
ended any hopes of national unity and sowed the seeds for ethnic violence? This
question invites an investigation of the transition to independence in the late 1950s and
the countries’ post-colonial experiences.
29
Louis de Lacger, in Gourevitch, We Wish to Inform You, pp. 54-55.
19
The Legacy of 1959
In this chapter I will consider the events of decolonisation and their effects on 1990s
ethnic violence. The sudden switch of Belgian support from Tutsi to Hutu completely
turned the Hamitic hypothesis on its head. Having thrown off Nazism in Europe, the
West now hoped to restore self-governance to all peoples. For Rwanda and Burundi, this
meant that the once ‘civilising’ Tutsis were ‘foreigners’ to the Great Lakes region. Hutus
who may have once sought to downplay ethnic difference now promoted it. Tutsis were
not native to Rwanda, and removing the colonial power meant removing the Tutsi at the
same time. These ideas were clearly replicated in the genocide, the most famous example
being Leon Mugusera’s call for all Tutsi to be killed and sent back to Ethiopia.:
The fatal mistake we made in 1959 was to let them get out. They belong in
Ethiopia and we are going to find them a shortcut to get there by throwing them
into the Nyaborongo river.30
This source plainly shows the significance of Belgium’s change of stance in the
decolonisation period. As Hutus succeeded in overthrowing Tutsi hegemony in the
process of achieving national independence, Gregoire Kayibanda highlighted the
problems colonial ideology had caused. In Rwanda there were now:
Two nations in a single state … two nations between whom there is no intercourse
and no sympathy, who are as ignorant of each other’s habits, thoughts and feelings
as if they were dwellers of different zones, or inhabitants of different planets.31
Leon Mugesera, in Taylor, Sacrifice as Terror, p. 129.
Gregoire Kayibanda, in Charles Villa-Vilencio, Paul Nantuyla and Tyrone Savage, Building Nations:
Transitional Justice in the African Great Lakes Region, Institute for Justice and Reconciliation (Cape Town,
2005), p. 74.
30
31
20
If we are to believe Kayibanda, by independence Hutus and Tutsis no longer had
anything in common. We can see a link here between the ideas of Pierre Ryckmans, with
one notable difference. The Hutus were no longer accepting of their subordination, and
they certainly didn’t see themselves as inferior to Tutsis. They were simply different. But
had ethnic differences become fixed and irreversible by this time, in which case making
the subsequent ethnic violence unavoidable? Philip Gourevitch argues that Kayibanda
used his ‘two nations’ rhetoric to maintain his power; ‘stirring up the Hutu masses to kill
Tutsis was the only way he seemed to be able to keep the spirit of the revolution alive’.32
Similarly in Burundi Michel Micombero saw ‘permanent revolution’ as one of the key
themes of his own ideology, Micombérisme.33 Exploiting ethnic tension could hide any
failures of the government to live up to the promises they had made in the movement
towards independence. In Rwanda, this took the form of propaganda against the Inyenzi.
The threat of the Inyenzi, real or otherwise, was useful to Kayibanda in maintaining his
grip on power. The Rwandan Revolution could also be used as an example by
Micombero to maintain his grip on power in Burundi, and use repressive measures
against Hutus to enforce it. The legacy of 1959 was spread from older members of
society down to children throughout post-colonialism. These sources traced the
animosity of Rwanda’s genocidaires towards Tutsis to the end of colonialism:
Basically, Hutus and Tutsis had been playing dirty tricks on each other since 1959.
That was the word from our elders. In the evenings, Primus [a Belgian beer
popular in Rwanda] in hand, they called the Tutsis weaklings, too high and mighty.
32
33
Gourevitch, We Wish to Inform You, p. 64.
Lermarchand, Rwanda and Burundi, p. 456.
21
So Hutu children grew up asking no questions, listening hard to all this nastiness
about Tutsis.34
I was raised in the fear that the mwami and their commanders might return; that
was because of all the stories old folks told us at home about unpaid forced labour
and other humiliations of that sad period for us, and because of the awful things
happening to our brothers in Burundi.35
The thought that the triumph of the Inyenzi would yield the return of the mwami and
Tutsi hegemony was therefore significant in the minds of Hutus growing up in Rwanda
following 1959. A direct connection can be made here to 1994, where the mass ranks of
Hutus supported their extremist leaders despite being in economic and social conditions
more comparable to the majority of Tutsis. Did the violence of the 1960s and the passing
down of stories through generations create a genocidal undercurrent in Rwanda and
Burundi, waiting for the right situation to come to the surface? Or was something else
needed to turn the legacy of 1959 into a full-blooded genocide? Naturally, Hutu
genocidaires and Tutsi survivors disagree on this issue, as these sources demonstrate:
I think the idea of genocide germinated in 1959, when we killed lots of Tutsis
without being punished, and we never repressed it after that … We heard no
protests about our murders.36
In 1959 the Hutus relentlessly robbed, killed, and drove away the Tutsis, but they
never for a single day imagined exterminating them. It is the intellectuals who
Adalbert Munzigura, in Hatzfeld, A Time for Machetes, p. 204.
Joseph-Désiré Bitero, in Hatzfeld, A Time for Machetes, p. 157.
36
Élie Mizinge, in Hatzfeld, A Time for Machetes, p. 51.
34
35
22
emancipated them, by planting the idea of genocide in their heads and sweeping
away their hesitations.37
We can see one legacy of the 1959 revolution here. By legitimising the Hutu revolution
to claim power,38 Belgium justified the use of violence against the Tutsis to gain and keep
power. When the West was hesitant to react to initial outbreaks of violence in the early
1990s, Hutu extremists knew that they could repeat the massacres of 1959 on a grander
scale with no foreign intervention.39 Ordinary Hutus, having been taught of the threat of
Tutsi power, saw killing Tutsis as a straightforward solution to retaining the dominance
of their ethnic group.
Of course we cannot necessarily take the view of the killers at face value, and evidence
from decolonisation supports the analysis of the Tutsi survivor. Despite Mugusera
arguing that Hutus should finish the job they had started in 1959, there is little evidence
to suggest these Hutus had any intention of completely destroying the Tutsis. The
Bahutu Manifesto argued for an end to Tutsi power and the establishment of a
democracy – one in which the ethnic majority held power. There was nothing about the
extermination or forced eviction of Tutsis, and nothing about them being sent ‘back’ to
Ethiopia.
So far then we have seen only half of the story. There are undoubtedly elements of
colonial rule, and the way in which decolonisation was handled by the Belgians, which
laid the groundwork for ethnic violence in Rwanda and Burundi. However it is not the
only cause. We must look at events and ideas in post-colonial society to determine how
Innocent Rwililiza, in Hatzfeld, A Time for Machetes, p. 145.
Lermarchand, Rwanda and Burundi, p. 175.
39
Romeo Dallaire, Shake Hands with the Devil: The Failure of Humanity in Rwanda, Arrow Books (London,
2004), p. 79.
37
38
23
ethnic tension flared into genocide some thirty years later. First I shall look at how and
why, according to Innocent Rwililiza, intellectuals legitimised genocide in the postcolonial era.
24
Holding on to Power
Elites in Rwanda and Burundi had many justifications for igniting ethnic violence, and
these will be analysed in this chapter. Around 1990 the international community began
putting pressure on all African dictatorships to democratise their systems, with the threat
of losing foreign aid as a stimulant. The leaders of Rwanda and Burundi handled this
pressure differently. In Rwanda Juvenal Habyarimana initially showed support by signing
the Arusha Accords, which would have given the RPF and Rwandan Tutsis a say in the
running of the country. However he hesitated, trying to keep a hold of power and only
succeeded in alienating both sides. The majority of Hutu elites were not prepared to
implement multi-party democracy. In Burundi Pierre Buyoya helped the process of
democratisation and acknowledged Melchior Ndadaye as the first elected leader. It was
ordinary Tutsi militiamen who assassinated Ndadaye and triggered the civil war that
followed. Here we can see that in Rwanda the ethnic violence of 1994 was very much
supported from the top, whereas in Burundi it started due to the views of the ordinary
people. For this reason this chapter on the role of political leaders in causing ethnic
violence will focus on the situation in Rwanda.
The birth of a number of political parties to challenge Habyarimana’s MRND(D) in the
early 1990s seems to contradict what would later follow, as Hutus united in the
murdering of Tutsis. Jean-Baptiste Murangira, a genocidaire, explains that Hutu parties
were originally established to watch each other:
When Habyarimana’s republic was forced to become a multiparty state, all the
different Hutu parties recruited militias, at first to protect themselves from one
25
another, because things were really hot amongst the Hutu extremists, and then to
focus on the Tutsis.40
The challenge to Habyarimana’s leadership from ‘moderates’ came largely from the south
of the country. The president had come from the north, the area last affected, but
hardest hit, by Tutsi and Belgian colonialism. Members of Habyarimana’s northern
clique, the akazu, were the main beneficiaries of his regime, while southerners were often
neglected. As early as 1970, Rene Lemarchand considered the division between northern
and southern Hutus as important as the division between Tutsis and Hutus.41 The threat
of the implementation of the Arusha Accords highlighted the akazu’s concerns. Linda
Melvern argues that they feared an alliance between the RPF, Rwandan Tutsis and
southern Hutus; which could successfully overthrow the northern clique.42 This
argument has its merits. With politics still permanently tied to ethnicity, the Tutsis alone
would have had no hope of power. But northern Hutu leaders were becoming agitated
with the threat of democracy and a southern Hutu-Tutsi alliance on their power, and the
best way to get southern Hutus onside was to murder their leader and blame it on a Tutsi
conspiracy.
Another line of rhetoric was present from the start of the RPF invasion in 1990, growing
after the death of Habyarimana. The RPF were treated as foreign invaders, and Rwandan
Tutsis were considered to be naturally supporting the foreign intervention. But this was
not a foreign invasion in the sense it had been considered in colonial mythico-history; of
Tutsis coming from a distant, more civilised place. We can even see an RTLM
propagandist, Gaspard Gahigi, arguing that the Tutsis did indeed come from Rwanda. In
Jean-Baptiste Murangira, in Hatzfeld, A Time for Machetes, p. 169.
Lermarchand, Rwanda and Burundi, p. 116.
42
Melvern, Conspiracy to Murder: The Rwandan Genocide, Verso (London, 2004), p. 18.
40
41
26
the rhetoric of 1994 the RPF were an Anglophone invading force, acting at the whim of
the Ugandan president, Yoweri Museveni. This idea was actively supported and
promoted by the French advisor on African affairs, Jean-Christophe Mitterand. The
unquestioning alliance between Hutu extremists and the French government was crucial
for the Hutu leaders. The thought of an invasion ‘organised’ by Museveni would destroy
the country’s position within la Francophonie:
We know that they are the Inyenzi, we know that they are the … Tutsis before
anything else, that is to say that they may be people of Rwandan origin, but that
does not mean they are Rwandans. We know, for example, that people like
Kagame are officers in the Ugandan army, as well as all the other officers in the
Inyenzi.43
So they believe in this and say that since they have Museveni, he will help them to
rule over Hutus. Since then Hutu have put their strength together and understand
that Tutsi should abandon forever their thirst for power, I think that this is clear
no foreigner will rule Rwanda for us.44
The Tutsis were not killed as Tutsis, only as sympathisers of the RPF. There was
no difference between the ethnic and the political. Ninety-nine percent of Tutsis
were pro-RPF.45
Analysis of Great Lakes politics of the 1980s show that these views were misguided.
Although Museveni seized power in Uganda by using an army composed of 20 per cent
Gaspard Gahigi, RTLM Tape 0070, http://surplusknowledge.com [accessed March 11 th 2011].
Kantano Habimana, RTLM Tape 0131, http://surplusknowledge.com [accessed March 11 th 2011].
45
Stanislas Mbonampeka, in Gourevitch, We Wish to Inform You, p. 98.
43
44
27
Rwandans, who would later form the RPF, their position within his regime was limited.
As under the previous regime, there was immense pressure on Museveni to remove the
exiled Rwandans,46 and the Rwandans were as determined to return to their ‘homeland’.
Despite the fact the RPF was clearly not Museveni’s puppet, whether the French and
Hutu leaders considered it as one is still important. Was this just another form of
propaganda to encourage ordinary Hutus to defend Rwanda’s position in la Francophonie?
The RPF leader Paul Kagame saw a contrast between the rhetoric and reality:
If they wanted people here to speak French, they shouldn’t have helped kill people
here who spoke French.47
Kagame’s analysis poses some interesting inconsistencies. While the RPF had learnt
English while in Uganda, Tutsis in Rwanda all spoke French. Despite the apparent
significance of language to the Hutu extremists, ethnicity clearly was a priority.
Propaganda called the RPF foreign and Anglophone, and called the Francophone Tutsis
supporters of the RPF. In my opinion the explanation behind Hutus’ use of this
propaganda was entirely to keep the support of the French, as extremists became
increasingly alienated. There is little evidence to suggest that the use of English by the
RPF was ever considered significant amongst the ordinary people in Rwanda.
So far in this chapter we have seen reasons why Hutu extremists saw genocide as a
legitimate action to solve the problems they faced in the 1990s. The actions of the RPF
also helped to provoke and incite Hutus to violence. The RTLM, using the legacy of
46
47
Gourevitch, We Wish to Inform You, p. 214.
Paul Kagame, in Gourevitch, We Wish to Inform You, p. 160.
28
1959, argued that the RPF had been lying to the Rwandan population regarding the aims
of the invasion:
The main common point between that war of UNAR’s members [the Tutsi party
which lost the 1959 elections] and this Inkotanyi [the RPF] war is the telling of lies
to the population … What we inherited from Parmehutu is the integrity, the truth,
and those were the reasons for which the Revolution took place. The rejection of
inequality, of the lie, of pretending to be superior. lt is the same thing now except
that when the war broke out, most of us thought that it was in connection with the
problem of the repatriation of refugees. Is it still the same situation? At the
beginning of the war, the Inkotanyi said that they wanted Habyarimana. Now that
they have killed him, what are they fighting for? They are fighting for the power
they used to have before 1959 and which they think they can reconquer.48
Rhetoric in sources such as this was important amongst the ordinary population, who
believed the story that Habyarimana had been assassinated by Tutsis. In reality the Hutu
Power conspiracy would have only served to extend the goals of the RPF. Habyarimana,
a president they had been prepared to negotiate with, had been killed, and in his place
were extremists pinning the blame on Tutsis and inciting ethnic violence against them.
Whether Hutu Power leaders believed what they were saying, such propaganda and the
RPF’s persistent fighting undoubtedly aided the Hutus’ cause. The needs of Tutsis in
Rwanda received little immediate attention, whereas Hutu genocidaires were considered the
victims as they fled to Rwanda. The portrayal of the RPF as liars thus encouraged the
genocide, allowing the killing to go on unabated.
48
Frodouald Karamira, RTLM Tape 0008, http://surplusknowledge.com [accessed March 11 th 2011].
29
At the same time as portraying the RPF as aggressors, Hutu leaders could also publicly
talk of their willingness to adopt ‘democracy’ when their rivals were ready. Jean
Kambanda, the president during the genocide and the first man to ever plead guilty to
the crime of genocide, implied that it was only the RPF who were preventing
democratisation and continuing the war:
Thus, the Hutu, the Tutsi and the Twa will know their rights to power without any
further confusion… without anybody trying to confuse the others by telling them
that they are no longer any ethnic divisions in Rwanda, whereas we all know that
ethnic groups exist. They can further cause confusion by telling others that they do
not want power to belong to such and such ethnic group, whereas we know that,
that is their goal. That should be clear and understood that we know that the RPF
is composed of Tutsis and their supporters and therefore must get positions
proportionate to their number … The RPF is deceiving itself by thinking that it
can conquer power through the barrel of the gun, because we would never allow
them to do so. If the Tutsis who represent 10 per cent of the population even
though I am not sure that all of them are Tutsis…49
Kambanda draws attention again to the differing views on ethnicity existing between
Rwandans and the Ugandan-born RPF. His refusal to acknowledge the presence of
Hutus in the RPF, and the support for them amongst moderate Rwandan Hutus, shows
how Rwandan politics was still bound to ethnicity. Kambanda talked of democracy while
preserving Hutu hegemony through ethnic violence, but even then the talk was hollow.
‘Democracy’ would be based entirely on ethnicity, and as in the 1960s the Tutsi
population was downplayed, from 14 per cent to 10 per cent. Even when talking of
49
Jean Kambanda, RTLM Tape 0109, http://surplusknowledge.com [accessed March 11 th 2011].
30
democracy, Hutus were working to maintain their dominance, and it is unsurprising the
RPF chose not to accept these unfavourable terms.
We have seen how the problems of the 1990s and the attitudes of Hutu Power and RPF
leaders contributed to ethnic violence in Rwanda. Northern Hutus felt democracy would
end their long-term hold on power, and were prepared to assassinate their leader to keep
it. Habyarimana’s indecisiveness led to his assassination, allowing Hutu extremists to rile
the population and encouraging the RPF to go extend the war further. The RPF’s history
in Uganda tainted it with the impression of a foreign force, helping Hutu extremists gain
the support of the French. And while both sides talked of a peace deal, neither offered
terms that were likely to be accepted.
31
Fear and Opportunism
This chapter will look at the reasons why the ordinary people of Rwanda and Burundi
were so quick to become involved in ethnic violence. There are numerous reasons why
Hutu leaders, under pressure to keep control, would have tried to eliminate the Tutsis in
order to keep a hold on power. However the willingness of the ordinary people to
become involved is a different question. It is unlikely that many Rwandans would have
cared if their leader was Anglophone, and many southern Hutus seemed as likely to
support the RPF as their own ethnic leaders until shortly before the genocide
commenced. Mahmood Mamdani argues that historians and academics have been
hesitant to discuss the initiative from below in the genocide.50 The participation and
attitude of ordinary civilians is as important as of their leaders, as the violence could not
have gained momentum without them. As a minister in the 1997 Rwandan government
argues:
In Germany, the Jews were taken out of their residences, moved to distant far
away locations, and killed there, almost anonymously. In Rwanda, the government
did not kill. It prepared the population, enraged it and enticed it. Your neighbours
killed you.51
The spread of propaganda by the RTLM and Kangura was far-reaching, broad and evoked
a wide range of memories, real or imagined, about what it would mean if Tutsis returned
to power. But why did it catch the attention of Hutus so easily? One decisive factor was
the significance of radio on the people of Rwanda and Burundi. The vast majority of
Rwandans had access to radio coverage, and the RTLM was seen as a legitimate and
50
51
Mamdani, When Victims Become Killers, p. 8.
Rwandan Government Minister, in Mamdani, When Victims Become Killers, p. 6.
32
neutral voice of the war. Commenting on the failure of UNAMIR, Romeo Dallaire later
argued that the mission’s inability to get its message across to the people was one of its
major weaknesses.52 In contrast the RTLM propaganda was unrepentant. The
International Crimunal Tribunal for Rwanda acknowledged that ‘radio broadcasts
exercised great influence over the Rwandan people (…) [They were] designed to create
inter-ethnic division and hatred’.53 The impact of radio is clear in the accounts of
genocidaires:
Afterwards the radios exaggerated to get us all fired up. “Cockroaches”, “snakes” it was the radios that taught us those words. The evil-mindedness of the radios was
too well calculated for us to oppose it.54
Despite the dominance of the RTLM over the radio, there are other factors as to why
Rwandan Hutus were drawn into following their orders. One is an unquestioning
obedience to authority, which had existed in Rwandan and Burundian society for
centuries. This loyalty can be seen both in the period immediately post-independence,
and in the early 1990s, where both Tutsis and Hutus supported ethnicity-based political
parties in spite of closer connections based on social and economic standing. Such
loyalty and obedience had existed since the pre-colonial era. The early colonial
anthropologist Jean-Jacques Maquet saw that the mwami had omnipresent power, and in
many ways the support of post-colonial presidents reflected that. Post-genocide sources
show that by the mid-1990s this unerring resulted in ethnic violence.
Melvern, Conspiracy to Murder, p. 103.
International Criminal Tribunal for Rwanda, Bruylant (Brussels, 2000), pp. 130-131.
54
Munzigura, in Hatzfeld, A Time for Machetes, p. 208.
52
53
33
When the ruler gives an order, he must be obeyed, not because his order falls into
the sphere over which he has authority, but simply because he is the ruler.55
Conformity is very deep, very developed here. In Rwandan history, everyone obeys
authority. People revere power, and there isn’t enough education. You take a poor,
ignorant population, and give them arms, and say, ‘It’s yours. Kill.’ They’ll obey.56
With such obedience, propagandists could easily exploit civilians’ concerns. The first was
the connection between Rwanda and Burundi, and the fear people in both nations had of
the impact of foreign affairs on their own position. The precedent had already been set
in 1972, where repression against Hutus in Burundi had led to repression against Tutsis
in Rwanda. Rene Lemarchand argues that ‘for every outburst of anti-Tutsi violence in
Rwanda, one can expect a similar explosion of anti-Hutu sentiment in Burundi, and vice
versa’.57 With such close scrutiny paid to the apparent links between the past and present
of the two countries, violence across the border acted as a warning to some and an
inspiration to others.
The people of Rwanda and Burundi picked up on these concerns. With the two
countries so closely linked, the deaths of Melchior Ndadaye and then Juvenal
Habyarimana would have created fear amongst Rwandan and Burundian Hutus.
According to a Hutu peasant in 1988, Rwandese immigrants, mostly Tutsis, had been the
cause of ethnic tension in Burundi. And when Rwandan Tutsis assassinated Ndadaye, the
RTLM was quick to pin the blame on the RPF and Paul Kagame, transplanting fear into
civilians:
Jean-Jacques Maquet, in Prunier, The Rwanda Crisis, p. 57.
Francois Xavier Nkurunziza, in Gourevitch, We Wish to Inform You, p. 23.
57
Lermarchand, Burundi, p. 175.
55
56
34
If it were not for the politicking of the Rwandese (…) Hutu and Tutsi in Burundi
would get along fine. If only they could have been installed in the provinces in the
center it would have been much better … In Burundi if you don’t behave well with
a Rwandese he threatens to kill you. Why? What he gets is usually by fraud, like the
smuggling of coffee we sell to him, and yet we are his main source of support. It is
the Rwandese who are largely responsible for all this.58
As it has been said, that coup d’état of Burundi during which they killed Ndadaye
was rooted here in Rwanda. Some people do not believe it, but you should believe
it. That Burundi coup d’état was rooted here in Rwanda. Whether RPF denies it or
accepts it, it is all the same. It is known that Kagame had a hand in the Bujumbura
plan. It is in the same context that RPF is now alleged to be making up other plans
in relation to that other coup d’état of Burundi.59
I did not believe the Tutsi were coming to kill us … but when the government
radio continued to broadcast that they were coming to take our land, were coming
to kill the Hutu – when this was repeat over and over – I began to feel some kind
of fear.60
The Rwandan genocidaires had other concerns too, one of which was overpopulation.
Gerard Prunier cites one example where a local population had increased eightfold
between 1900 and 1990.61 Hutu sources suggest that overpopulation had been a long-
A Burundian Hutu peasant, in Lermarchand, Burundi, p. 122.
RTLM Tape 0039, http://surplusknowledge.com [accessed March 11th 2011].
60
Alfred Kiruhura, in H. Adelman, and A. Suhrke (eds), The Path of a Genocide: The Rwanda Crisis from Uganda
to Zaire, Transaction Publishers (New Jersey, 1999), p. 99
61
Prunier, The Rwanda Crisis, p. 354
58
59
35
term problem in Rwanda, and when leaders authorised the killing of Tutsis in 1994,
civilians were happy to take the opportunity to free some of the pressure.
Hatred flourished in the fields because the plots of land were not large enough for
two ethnic groups.62
This source clearly shows that overpopulation was an important problem, but population
pressure was not uniform across the whole country. Feargal Keane argues that the
immediate impact of the refugee crisis, caused by the RPF invasion, saw a rapid increase
in population in certain areas. The migration ‘increased the competition for scarce
resources and made the mass of Hutu peasants fearful for the security of their land. The
extremists told them repeatedly that the Tutsis were coming to seize their land. In reality
the thieving of resources was being done by Habyarimana and his cronies’. 63
Overpopulation and the threat of Tutsi advancement coincided to foster a desperation
amongst Hutus to hold onto their land.
In addition to the desire to keep what they already had, Hutus saw the opportunity to
gain more. Despite having been out of power for decades, Tutsis still held on to many
material possessions ordinary Hutus had never had the opportunity to acquire. As many
sources from genocidaires show, killing soon became a necessity in the process of looting,
and radio propaganda was no longer needed to continue the genocide.
But in the Tutsis’ abandoned houses, we knew we’d find quantities of new goods.
We started with sheet metal, and the rest followed. That time greatly improved out
62
63
Rukiramacumu, in Hatzfeld, A Time for Machetes, p. 205.
Keane, Season of Blood, p. 23.
36
lives since we profited from everything we’d never had before. The daily Primus,
the cow meat, the bikes, the radios, the sheet metal, the windows, everything.
People said it was a lucky season, and that there would not be another.64
The keenest ones, when they killed, grabbed the possessions of the dead – they
wanted everything, right away, not even stopping to finish off their victims. The
looting excited them so much, they needed no advice or encouragement. Their
greed spread to those who followed, who went crazy in turn. The poorest ones
were excited by the spoils. And the wealthiest, too, because they had enough
money to buy loot and stockpile it. Everyone supported these profitable killings.65
We can see an abundance of reasons why ordinary citizens of Rwanda and Burundi were
taken in by propaganda and their more immediate concerns and prepared to commit
ethnic violence. They were not entirely under the influence of colonial mythico-history,
and propagandists needed to appeal to contemporary issues. Rwandan Hutus had been
programmed to follow the orders of their leaders, and the deaths of Ndadaye and
Habyarimana gave the RTLM the opportunity to promote the idea of a Tutsi conspiracy.
The threat of overpopulation and an RPF invasion encouraged Hutus to kill their
neighbours and in so doing profit from material gains.
64
65
Alphonse Hitiyaremye, in Hatzfeld, A Time for Machetes, p. 59.
Bitero, in Hatzfeld, A Time for Machetes, p. 78.
37
Conclusion
This dissertation has explored the reasons behind the ethnic violence that hit Rwanda
and Burundi in the 1990s, using accounts from both the perpetrators of genocide and
ordinary killers, in an attempt to move beyond the teleological approach that reduces the
ethnic violence in the region to a legacy of colonialism. In my opinion the Rwandan
genocide was the result of contemporary problems within the Great Lakes region and the
changing world situation; from the encouragement of the Ugandan government to
remove the exiled Rwandese population, to international pressure to democratise, and
the assassination of Melchior Ndadaye in Burundi. I agree with Mahmood Mamdani here
that the invasion of the RPF would not have happened without larger regional
developments – it was not simply a legacy of 1959.66 Those who organised the genocide
were determined to keep the power and benefits they had held for so long, and would
use any form of propaganda to achieve it.
For this reason the extremist propaganda broadly incorporated anything that might
appeal to the ordinary Hutu. The colonial era might have served as a reminder to
Rwandan Hutus of what the Tutsis were capable of, and propaganda certainly exploited
this memory. However the sources used in the second half of this dissertation show that
many genocidaires acted out of fear and opportunism, rather than any lingering European
racial ideas. Looting and the opportunity of material gains soon took over as the driving
force for killing, and the wealthier Tutsi were the logical targets. And although the
RTLM linked the RPF war with the Inyenzi attacks of the 1960s, and some civilians also
made this connection, the response to the threat of invasion in an already overpopulated
land would have likely been the same regardless of the historical link.
66
Mamdani, When Victims Become Killers, p. 157.
38
The response in Rwanda and Burundi over the past fifteen years has been to try to
encourage parties and governments across ethnic lines. Yet such an experiment in 1993
failed with the assassination of Ndadaye, and both Hutus and Tutsis must be willing to
acknowledge their part in ethnic violence to make genuine progress. Laying the blame at
the door of European colonialism, as RPF founder Tito Rutaremara did,67 will not help
resolve the issues within Rwandan society and address the legacy of the genocide.
Although Europeans readily embraced racial theories regarding the peoples of Rwanda
and Burundi, so too did Tutsis and Hutus themselves. The problems of Rwandan and
Burundian society in the 1990s that caused ethnic violence could have been resolved in
the period since independence, and continuing to ignore the role these problems played
will leave ethnic tensions unanswered.
67
Rutaremara, in Gourevitch, We Wish to Inform You, p. 212.
39
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40