INTRODUCTIONFootnote ¹

On a morning in November 2009, I was talking with a group of young political activists in Kasavubu district in Kinshasa. We spoke about political developments in the Congo since the signing of the peace agreement in 2002, and the promises and disappointments of democracy.Footnote ² A passer-by tapped me on the shoulder and said ‘Mundele, it is because of you’.Footnote ³ The people with whom I was speaking were slightly embarrassed but did not contradict the man when he spoke about how the West has betrayed the Congo and its people. He said to me ‘I don't like [President] Kabila’, and walked away. The man used a narrative commonly used in the Congo through which people explain the disappointments of the present situation in their country. For him the West is the cause of perpetual Congolese misery. He is disappointed in President Kabila, but he believes that Kabila is in power because Western powers want him to be, like Mobutu had been in the past. For him democracy and all that it entails has been taken hostage by devious and deceitful Western powers. His statement that he does not like President Kabila means that he does not like what Western powers have done to the Congo, rather than what he thinks of Kabila himself. He holds the West responsible for the perpetuation of misery in the country.

Mbembe has asked how identities that produce social practices are imagined in contemporary Africa and argues that African forms of ‘self-writing’ can no longer be based on European fictions of the African as victim (Reference Mbembe2001: 14–15). This paper argues that, contrary to Mbembe's argument Congolese people continue to imagine a Congolese Self as a perpetual victim and a Western Other as a perpetual oppressor. These identities subsequently manifest themselves in ambivalent Congolese attitudes towards the process of democratisation and political reconfiguration in Congo since the Sun City peace agreement. This raises important questions about the prospect of successful peace building and democratisation in the Congo.

After a brief section on historical narratives and democracy in the Congo, I will discuss several historic moments in Congolese post-colonial history when a central plot about the struggle for freedom was followed by failure and victimhood due to foreign intervention was repeated. Firstly, the assassination of Lumumba in 1961. As will unfold in the following paragraphs, the assassination of Lumumba is the foundation on which the narrative plot is based. Secondly, the National Sovereign Conference of 1990–92, which also offers a reflection on the era of Mobutu's rule through Congolese eyes. Thirdly, the toppling of Mobutu by Laurent-Désiré Kabila in 1997, followed by his assassination in 2001. And finally, the Second Congolese War, the Sun City peace agreement of 2002 and the transitional process following, which would culminate in the long awaited elections of 2006. Through these events and the interpretations of these events the concept of democracy has become loaded. The meaning of democracy for Congolese people today has less to do with a specific system of governance than with a project of emancipation for which democracy has become a key means to achieve this. In other words, the meaning of democracy for Congolese people is more concerned with what it represents in the historical trajectory of post-colonial Congo, than what it represents as a system of governance.

The initial research on which this paper draws focused on aspects of democratisation and the post-war political transition process (De Goede Reference De Goede2015). However, many of my respondents insisted that it was important for me to understand the present in terms of its proper historical context, and gave me elaborate accounts of historic events to contextualise the current political situation. The ideas on which this paper is based stem from this process of historical contextualisation by my informants. Evidently, there are multiple Congolese narratives, none of which is uncontested. What makes the narrative that will be discussed in this paper so important is that it is employed by various social groups – political elites, urban masses, rural poor, civil society activists, supporters of the opposition as well as those in support of the regime. Although people of course often disagree on many issues, they used the same repertoires to construct their (often opposing) arguments. Their repertoires on western powers are stable and shared. What is open for interpretation and argumentation is the role of Congolese actors in events, whether one acts as a liberator or redeemer, or as a pawn that serves foreign interests.

NARRATIVES AND THE MEANING OF DEMOCRACY

Congolese people of all walks of life commonly use versions of the narrative of the passer-by on that November morning. It is a narrative that offers a lens through which meaning is given to events of the past and the present. The understanding that foreign powers seek to control and dominate the Congo is deeply rooted in popular perception. A civil servant at the National Assembly once told me that ‘you cannot understand the Congo without understanding its history of exploitation. Congo is and has always been a field for exploitation. This explains everything in our country’ (Civil servant 2009, Int.). A widely shared belief holds that Congolese post-colonial history is explained in terms of a perpetual struggle between Western powers that seek to maintain control over the Congo to protect their financial interests, and Congolese patriots that fight for Congolese dignity, self-determination and true independence. Within this narrative, the struggle for freedom is constructed and presented as a struggle that began during colonial occupation and that still remains to be won. Central to this line of thought is the on-going and self-perpetuating belief in the continuation of foreign interference in Congolese affairs, (attempted) foreign occupation and the breach of Congolese sovereignty, and specifically the denial of Congolese dignity.

This Congolese understanding of the current democratisation process as being rooted in (post-)colonial history stands in stark contrast to the understanding of this process by the international donor community. A peace agreement is often considered as a clean slate, a new beginning; as if post-war reconstruction processes can occur in isolation of historical experiences that go back much further than merely the experiences of the recent conflict. What these interventions fail to recognise sufficiently is the long-term historical experiences in which current democratisation is contextualised and that provide a lens through which current processes of war and peace building are being understood from a local and national perspective. Democracy and democratic practices such as elections can have hidden meanings that fundamentally change the functioning of democracy. Such hidden meanings remain invisible to outsiders (Schaffer Reference Schaffer1998). The narrative central in this paper reveals hidden meanings of democracy in Congo. However, the international donor community pushes aside the narrative – and the messages that are hidden within it – as lies and nonsense and therefore as irrelevant. The narratives are indeed at times internally incoherent, sometimes more expressions of a (deluded) conspiracy theory than a rational understanding of events. The narrative is, however, far from irrelevant. Its relevance lies in what it reveals about the historical rootedness of meanings given to democratic transition by Congolese people. These are important truths for Congolese people.

Research on informal knowledge production and information sharing in Africa such as ‘pavement radio’ and street parliaments, has shown that there is often a wide gap between popular knowledge and knowledge produced by formal organs and published in formal reports and documents (Ellis Reference Ellis1989; Ellis and Ter Haar Reference Ellis and ter Haar2004: 29–30; Cutolo & Banégas Reference Cutolo and Banégas2012). These informal channels of information are important for the development of consciousness of ordinary people who may not have direct access to formal information channels. As with rumour and gossip, the truths that are constructed in this manner are true because many people know and share the story. These stories thus produce truth, while simultaneously enabling new episodes of the same repertoire (White Reference White2000; Veyne Reference Veyne1988; see also Sartre 2005: 360). It thus constructs an image (as opposed to the invention of an image) through historical processes (Banégas Reference Banégas2003: 316). This sets limits to the manipulation or invention of the narrative, while at the same time these historical processes and events have given the narrative historic underpinning (Hamilton Reference Hamilton1998: 26–7). The plot in the Congolese narrative that is central in this paper is repeated in various historical events that follow the same process: the promise of redemption through the heroic victory of good over evil, followed by failure, loss and tragic victimhood due to foreign intervention. Because the plot is repeated throughout history it is imaginatively reified. The paper is thus less concerned with the factual validity of Congolese historical narratives, but instead with how people perceive their past and their present experiences and have used repertoires to construct meaning.

LUMUMBA'S CALVARY: ‘THE DEATH OF OUR INDEPENDENCE’

The dramatic events following Congo's independence have made a deep and lasting impression on Congolese collective memory.Footnote ⁴ The murder of Patrice Lumumba is collectively remembered as a key event that has defined the course of Congolese history since. For Congolese people, the events following independence are understood as the establishment of a neo-colonial state. Mobutu was considered a puppet of the West, put in power by former colonial power Belgium and its Western allies, while Patrice Lumumba was assassinated because he defended Congolese dignity and self-determination (Wamba-dia-Wamba Reference Wamba-dia-Wamba1987: 35). Political events in the years following have since been interpreted as either a moment of reckoning of the murder of Lumumba, or as a repetition of the drama. The mythologisation of the death of Lumumba began almost directly afterwards, with Pierre Mulele launching a ‘Lumumbist’ rebellion in pursuit of a Second Independence (Wamba-dia-Wamba Reference Wamba-dia-Wamba1987; see also Martens Reference Martens1985; Van Reybrouck Reference Van Reybrouck2014: 341–2). The rebellion failed and Mulele was brutally executed.

In Congolese collective memory, the murder of Lumumba was much more than the death of a man that believed in a cause. It was an act that represents the loss of everything he stood for. The murder has become the symbol of the deception of independence that the country has experienced and represents the loss of Congolese self-determination and Congolese dignity, for which the West is held responsible. Reflecting on the assassination of Lumumba thirty years later, the National Sovereign ConferenceFootnote ⁵ concluded that it was ‘the original murder of our independent history’, a sacrificial killing (Conférence Nationale Souveraine 1992: 14).Footnote ⁶ Although in the years following, Mobutu tried in vain to silence the memory of Lumumba, his image has since developed as a martyr of messianic proportions: Lumumba was Congo's saviour (dia Mwembu Reference dia Mwembu and Jewsiewicki1999: 66). In popular Congolese artwork, Lumumba is represented as the Son of God who will liberate the Congolese from the chains of colonialism. The murder of Lumumba is often represented as Lumumba's passion, where Lumumba consents in his death as a true martyr for the cause of the Congolese people (Jewsiewicki Reference Jewsiewicki1996: 128–9).

The use of Christian symbolism builds on a Christian tradition that goes back some 500 years. Throughout history, there have been several prophets and spiritual leaders, such as Kimpa Vita and Simon Kimbangu (Martin Reference Martin1976; MacGaffey Reference MacGaffey1983; Thornton Reference Thornton1998). In the colonial era, the Christian church was an important instrument of the colonial state, and as such had a profound influence on education and public consciousness. This strong and deep-rooted popular Christian tradition in the Congo has also been a powerful resource for political power. As Schatzberg observed, spirituality is one of the faces of power in Congo. Mobutu extensively framed his legitimating discourses in Christian terms, describing his access to power as a resurrection, the party as a church and himself as a pope (Schatzberg Reference Schatzberg2001: 51–2). Christian symbolism upon which the narrative draws to give meaning to the tragedy of Lumumba is thus part of a well-established discursive tradition in Congo (see for example MacGaffey Reference MacGaffey1986; Kaczynski Reference Kaczynski1990; Thornton Reference Thornton2013). In his painting on the assassination of Lumumba, Tshibumba makes explicit references to the crucifixion of Jesus. Three crosses stand on a hill on the background, and like Jesus, Lumumba is assassinated together with two other men. Lumumba is stabbed in the side, the stream of blood that pours from Lumumba's wound forms the word ‘unité ’ – Lumumba died for Congolese unity. The stars of the Congolese flag enlighten the dark sky. Lumumba's body has never been found, adding to the myth of Lumumba as messiah and the possibility of his resurrection (Fabian Reference Fabian1997: 121; Ceuppens Reference Ceuppens2003: 90). The symbolic significance of Lumumba's martyrdom is therefore powerful and resonates strongly with popular consciousness.

The lessons from the failures of independence have become the essential constituent of Congolese historical narratives, which argue that the West did not, and does not, want the Congo to be truly independent and sovereign and thus beyond the control of the West and its financial interests. Lumumba paid for this with his life. The final report of the National Sovereign Conference states that:

While Lumumba's tragedy represents the tragedy of the Congolese people, his heroism and his determination also represent the conviction of the Congolese population as a whole (Kinkela vi Kans'y Reference vi Kans'y1993: 135). Lumumba is remembered as the redeemer (Jewsiewicki Reference Jewsiewicki1996: 113–42). His death represents an original sin (‘the original murder of our independence’) and has left a legacy of victimhood that the Congolese people carry collectively. Overcoming this legacy through the reclaiming of Congolese dignity and self-determination thus became a political project in pursuit of redemption. In the minds of many Congolese, they are still in a process of resolving the crisis of the 1960s and its outcomes (PALU representative 2010, Int.). The emancipatory quest to make an end to foreign domination and to reclaim what was lost has remained an important political cause for Congolese people since – ‘winning back our self-determination is still our struggle’ (Street Parliamentarian 2010, Int.; UDPS Activist 2010, Int). As will be discussed in the remainder of this article, political leaders, from Mobutu to Joseph Kabila, have persistently framed their legitimating narrative in these terms.

‘THE HISTORIC MOMENT TO RECTIFY THE PAST AND TO PREPARE THE FUTURE’ (KINKELA VI KANS'Y Reference vi Kans'y1993: 143)

When Mobutu finally bent to domestic and international pressure for democratic change, the Congo opted for a National Sovereign Conference (NSC) as a transition mechanism, following the example of Benin and several other francophone African countries. The NSC lasted from 1990 to 1992, but failed to deliver a transition to democracy. The NSC was primarily intended as a participatory process of pacted transition from dictatorship to democratic governance. Founded on Rousseau's philosophy on popular sovereignty and people's right to renegotiate a social contract, the NSC was a round table at which government delegates, interest groups, opposition parties, civil society organisations and churches negotiated the future political organisation of the country and a roadmap to lead the country out of the economic, social and political crisis (Robinson Reference Robinson1994: 577; Nzongola-Ntalaja Reference Nzongola-Ntalaja2002: 190–2). It was an important national event when the nation collectively reflected on its past, present and future.

In its opening paragraph, the final report explicitly connects the National Sovereign Conference to the tragic death of Lumumba, by stating that the NSC represents the victory of the struggle of Lumumba and the Congolese people as a whole (Kinkela vi Kans'y Reference vi Kans'y1993: 135). Because Lumumba's struggle and fate is used as a symbol for that of all Congolese people, and because the NSC is an inclusive process of all people, the NSC became the heroic momentum to reclaim what the nation lost when Lumumba was killed. It offered the promised redemption for which Lumumba had died.

A key decision of the NSC was the appointment of a committee of eminent Congolese historians, under the directorship of Congo's foremost historian Isidore Ndaywel è Nziem, to produce a relecture de notre histoire, a re-consideration of Congolese history in the context of current events. The aim was to reflect on the past in order to provide a historical context of the (then) current political and economic crisis, so that the NSC could learn from the past to facilitate the transitional process. As such, the relecture is a very interesting historic source.

The committee's report on historical events was profoundly political. It sought to simultaneously blame and reconcile in order to clear the ground for a new beginning that would not be haunted by the past. What makes the text significant, as an important piece of Congolese historiography as well as a historic document itself, is that the document is a self-narrative that has been influenced as little as possible by the discourses and interests of the international donor community, this in stark contrast to the post-war political transition process of 2003–6. The narrative that the report offers is thus a self-narrative that was written for a Congolese audience in an attempt to facilitate a domestically steered transition process – a narrative by Congolese for Congolese.Footnote ⁷ It is therefore a rare source that provides authentic insights in Congolese historical self-narratives and has much authority in Congo as a document that provides truths. Although the report itself never circulated widely, its conclusions are very much similar to the popular historical narratives that this paper analyses.

The relecture explicitly frames the events that resulted in the death of Lumumba and Mobutu's first coup in 1960 as being instigated by foreign manipulation; in particular the USA and Belgium, who were alleged to have operated via the United Nations mission in the Congo, in an attempt to recapture Congolese independence and confiscate its sovereignty (on Belgian, US and UN complicity, see De Witte Reference De Witte2001). Mobutu and others that worked alongside him are represented as being only the agents of these foreign interests (Conférence Nationale Souveraine 1992: 13). Likewise, the committee strongly condemned Mobutu's second coup in 1965. Primarily because, as the committee claimed, it could not be argued that this second coup solved a political crisis. Instead, it made an end to Congolese efforts to end the crisis peacefully. It was therefore a direct breach of Congolese sovereignty. The committee concludes that Mobutu's 1965 coup was thus an act of High Treason, suggesting that he was in fact an agent of the CIA, because he acted against Congolese interests while serving foreign interests (Conférence Nationale Souveraine 1992: 14, 20). This conclusion reveals a paradox about the place of order in the historical narrative. According to the narrative the disorder of the early 1960s was created by Western powers. Mobutu made an end to the disorder and restored economic stability, which was at the time indeed felt as such. In hindsight, however, it became framed as another phase in a history of Western domination, a form of Pax Romana. The notion of peace and order, which can only be founded on dignity and self-determination, thus became an important overarching theme in the narrative.

Mobutu's access to power thus started a new period of foreign domination, continued colonial subordination. The Mulelist uprising and the brutal assassination of Pierre Mulele, the student uprisings of 1967, 1969 and 1971, the Shaba wars and the intervention of foreign troops, as well as the struggle for political change within Parliament that started in the late 1970s and the women's protests in Kinshasa of 1990 – these are all episodes of the country's “30 years' war” against foreign imposed dictatorship that was finally won with the NSC (Kinkela vi Kans'y Reference vi Kans'y1993: 140). Similarly, Mobutu's attempts to obstruct the NSC are understood as foreign inspired attempts to prevent self-determination in the Congo (Conférence Nationale Souveraine 1992: 21), while it was by then clear that Western countries had ended their support to Mobutu's rule in favour of democracy.

It is interesting to observe that Mobutu's disastrous economic reform policies of the 1970s (Zairianisation and Radicalisation) are also considered to be based on the advice of foreigners who wanted to ‘ruin the Congo's economic power’ (Conférence Nationale Souveraine 1992: 19; see also Young & Turner Reference Young and Turner1985: 362). This is of course deeply ironic, considering that Zairianisation as an economic nationalisation policy could have only been against Western interests in the Congo. Such conclusions reflect an understanding of Western foreign policy as being informed only by efforts to harm Congo, irrespective of other interests.

Although the committee blames Mobutu for his wrongdoings, he is also considered merely a pawn in the Western conspiracy against Congo. The real blame lies not with Mobutu, but with the evil forces behind Mobutu. The relecture thus simultaneously accused Mobutu, but also sought to reconcile. It is relevant to observe that during his reign Mobutu tapped from the same repertoire, emphasising Congolese dignity and self-determination to seek legitimacy for his rule. Mobutu argued that many of the problems the country was faced with were a consequence of the continuation of colonial relations in the form of neo-colonialism (Ngoma-Binda Reference Ngoma-Binda2009: 89). In an interview, Mobutu stated that the Congo was still-born, ‘assassinated by those who installed their protectors and that did not want to know about Congolese independence, nor wanted to lead the country to real independence’ (Mobutu Reference Mobutu1989: 50). In 1971, just six years after his second coup, Mobutu launched Authenticité, the psychological and cultural decolonisation of the country. It was presented as a counter-hegemonic discourse that promoted the restoration of Congolese national pride and national identity through a form of cultural nationalism. It emphasised Congolese culture, traditions and values as a framework for development and a rejection of the exploitation from the West:

What matters here is not so much whether this narrative succeeded in delivering legitimacy to Mobutu's reign. Much more relevant is the fact that irrespective of one's support for Mobutu, irrespective of one's involvement in historic events, and irrespective of one's relation with western powers, political legitimacy requires a positioning of oneself as a political leader in the narrative of the perpetual quest for redemption and reclaiming of self-determination and dignity. This was the narrative used by Lumumba, Mulele, Mobutu and the NSC, and would be repeated by political leaders and their opponents in the years to come.

Consequently, it is also a powerful narrative for the delegitimisation of political leaders. For the NSC, Mobutu was a pawn of Western powers that had led the country in a neo-colonial system of rule. Making an end to Mobutu's dictatorial rule thus became the means through which an end could be made to neo-colonial rule in the Congo and through which the long-promised redemption would be possible. In the context of the end of the Cold War, and the wave of democratic transitions that occurred in Africa in the early 1990s, democracy was the most immediately available alternative for Mobutu's rule. From that moment on, democracy has been considered as the means through which Congolese self-determination and dignity could be reclaimed. The discourse of democracy thus not only aligned, but also merged with the narratives on the perpetual quest for emancipation, rooted in identities of perpetual victimhood. The significance and meaning of democracy in the Congo related since then thus primarily to the quest for redemption, much more than to democracy as a system of governance.

‘BULLETS SHOT BY A BODY GUARD, REMOTE-CONTROLLED BY THE ENEMIES OF OUR NATION’ (NZAZI-MABIDI Reference Mabidi2011)

A second series of historic events that were framed and are still remembered as a (lost) opportunity to achieve redemption was the toppling of Mobutu's regime by Laurent Kabila in May 1997. The NSC had decided on a democratic transition process that would culminate in elections. But before these elections could take place, Kabila's access to power made an end to the transition process of the NSC. While both supporters and opponents of Kabila frame his rebellion and access to power as a foreign instigated process, they do so each in their own way.

For Kabila's supporters the West had manipulated the NSC. Kabila's access to power before the completion of the transition process thus prevented the installation of a new regime that would have been supported by the West. Similar to how the NSC framed Mobutu's regime and its own momentum as a break with this historical pattern, Kabila's rebellion is also framed as being not just about ending a dictatorship, but about making an end to the perpetuated historical injustices of the neo-colonial state:

In his declaration of 17 May 1997 when he assumed control over the state, Kabila stated that his rebellion continued a war of liberation that had started on 14 September 1960 (the day of Mobutu's first coup d’état) (Kabila Reference Kabila and Mutamba Makombo1997a: 493). This is exactly the same argument that was used to mark the NSC in 1990–92 as the end of 30 years' war since the ill-fated independence of 1960. Like Mulele and the NSC before him, Kabila thus explicitly suggests that his own rebellion was a continuation of Lumumba's struggle, a struggle that Lumumba could not complete, but that was continued and eventually won by Kabila. At his Presidential inauguration, Kabila argued that Congolese people have for long been humiliated because of foreign obstructions to its liberation. His access to power has finally made an end to this foreign exploitation (Kabila Reference Kabila and Mutamba Makombo1997b: 500). He therefore also refused to co-operate with the UN in the implementation of the Lusaka Ceasefire Agreement (International Crisis Group 2000). His words closely resemble Lumumba's words in his speech on Independence Day in 1960, as well the language used by the NSC. Kabila's victory offered the redemption that was promised in 1960.

Interestingly, and like Mobutu did before him, Kabila constructed his legitimating discourse on the same repertoires of the quest for true independence that were used by his opponents to delegitimise his access to power. For the opponents of Laurent Kabila, the invasion by AFDL (Alliance des Forces Démocratiques pour la Libération du Congo-Zaire, the allied forces of Kabila's rebellion) was a foreign instigated war aimed at preventing the NSC to succeed in bringing the long-awaited redemption. Particularly for UDPS (Union pour la Démocratie et Progrès Social) supporters the NSC was a victorious moment, which was lost again due to Kabila's rebellion and the conflicts that followed.Footnote ⁸ In the words of a UDPS political party activist:

That Kabila had collaborated with Rwandan support in order to topple Mobutu's regime only confirmed this assumption. A civil society activist from Bukavu, who during the 2003–6 transition period took seat in the transitional National Assembly as a delegate representing Civil Society,Footnote ¹⁰ stated that ‘AFDL came from abroad. From abroad comes no liberation, only aggression. The war was a war of occupation. The state had been occupied, supported by Rwanda’ (Former Member of Transitional Parliament 2010, Int.).

Anti-Rwandese sentiments have existed in the Congo long before Kabila and Rwanda joined hands. The identity and citizenship question of the Rwandophone population of eastern Congo has been a contested issue throughout most of Congo's post-colonial era (Vlassenroot Reference Vlassenroot2002). However, the NSC and its failure, followed by the renewed promise of redemption by Kabila and his death, as well as the aftermath of the 1994 Rwandan genocide and the influx of Rwandan refugees and génocidaires in the Congo, gave anti-Rwandese sentiments new impetus in the Congo. From the mid-1990s a historical narrative emerged in which the Rwandophones were constructed as an existential threat to Congo. The narrative speaks of perpetual Rwandan expansionism towards the Congo. This perspective has since been informed and reinforced by historic events – the influx of Rwandan refugees in the aftermath of the 1994 genocide, the two Congo wars, and on-going conflict and instability in the border areas since (Huening Reference Huening2013). Although tensions between the Congo and Rwanda may for others have little to do with western interference, they do in the minds of Congolese people. The narrative of the quest for redemption and the perpetual Western obstruction to achieve this have placed the problematic relations with Rwanda within this struggle of resistance against foreign domination. Rwanda is held responsible for bringing violence and conflict to the Congo (employee civil society organisation 2009, in conversation). In Bukavu, a town in Eastern Congo where people have suffered intensely from conflict and structural violence in the region, people speak about the ‘Rwandification’ of the Congolese armed forces through the integration with various rebel movements since 2003.Footnote ¹¹ This Rwandification explains the Congolese Armed Forces' atrocious behaviour, a source of insecurity rather than security (Civil society representatives 2010a, Int.).

Rwanda is thus considered to have prevented the Congo from claiming its true independence. Many people see confirmation of this interpretation in the events that followed when Kabila ordered the Rwandan troops that had supported his rebellion to leave Congolese territory. A week later, a new rebellion was launched by the Rassemblement Congolais pour la Démocratie (RCD) – a movement that was backed by Rwanda (International Crisis Group 1998). The narrative of the perpetual quest for redemption, however, makes that Rwanda is not considered to be acting purely on its own, but as a pawn for the West. In a discussion about perpetual conflict in eastern Congo, civil society actors from Bukavu argued that:

But similarly to how Kabila himself argued that his rebellion was in pursuit of true independence, so did his opponents in the Second Congolese War (1998–2002). Jean-Pierre Bemba, leader of the MLC (Mouvement de la Libération du Congo) that also fought against Kabila's regime, used repertoires of true independence to legitimate his rebellion. In his autobiography, aptly entitled Choosing for Liberty he stated that:

Locating one's political actions within the struggle for redemption is a necessary foundation for political legitimacy. Like Kabila's rebellion, the Second Congolese War has thus been given meaning by the warring parties in terms of protecting the hard-won true independence (Kabila) or as a quest for achieving true independence (Kabila's opponents).

However, both the opponents and supporters of Kabila's regime share an understanding of the assassination of Kabila in January 2001 as an act of the West and a repetition of the assassination of Lumumba. Kabila was assassinated on the eve of the 40th anniversary of Lumumba's assassination. What was also strikingly similar was the satisfaction of Western powers with the death of Kabila, similar to with the death of Lumumba (Bustin Reference Bustin2002: 539). The assassination of Kabila is narrated as an exact replica of Lumumba's murder. Like Lumumba, Kabila died ‘for his love for the Congo, for Congolese sovereignty and for territorial integrity’ (Nzazi Mabidi Reference Mabidi2011). He was killed because he agitated against Western imperialism (Former Member of Parliament 2009, Int.). In doing so, he ‘made the same mistake’ as Lumumba had done 40 years earlier, namely to stand up against international interference and to demand sovereignty, self-determination and dignity for the Congolese people (Le Potentiel 17.1.2010). Both were assassinated, in the eyes of many Congolese, by an international conspiracy. And although Laurent Kabila was shot by one of his bodyguards, it is widely believed by the Congolese that behind this act were in fact international actors and their interests – ‘bullets shot by a body guard, remote-controlled by the enemies of our nation’ (Nzazi Mabidi Reference Mabidi2011). Kabila's death was almost an exact repetition of Lumumba's death: both died a martyr for Congolese self-determination and Congolese dignity. Both promised to deliver redemption, while both failed in achieving this because evil forces have prevented them from completing their mission.

LEGITIMATING PEACE AND POST-WAR POLITICAL LEADERSHIP

A final series of events that will be discussed in this paper are related to the political transition process following the Sun City Peace Agreement. I will focus on the meaning giving and legitimacy of the peace agreement and the process of the implementation of the peace agreement, and secondly on the legitimacy of the political leadership that has come into power after winning the 2006 elections.

Although in December 2002 an inclusive peace agreement was signed that formally ended the Second Congolese War, in large parts of the country violent conflict has been on-going, or has since even deteriorated, and a general situation of human insecurity persists (Autesserre Reference Autesserre2006, Reference Autesserre2010; Larmer et al. Reference Larmer, Laudati and Clark2013; Stearns & Botiveau Reference Stearns and Botiveau2013). During the peace negotiations, all attention went to the national conflict and the installation of a new regime, while local conflicts were ignored or expected to end automatically in the context of the national peace process (Autesserre Reference Autesserre2007). In my interviews and conversations, people therefore hardly ever used the word ‘peace’ when referring to the period since the peace agreement was signed. The peace, people feel, is a farce. It is an illegitimate peace, a peace for the elites in Kinshasa, not for the rest of the population. Again, the blame is put with the international community, for whom the current ‘violent peace’ seems to suffice. Political activists of UDPS argued that the peace agreement was not a ‘peace on our terms’, that it served foreign interests instead of Congolese interests, and that it ignored the democratisation process of the 1990s. The NSC did perhaps fail to deliver a democratic transition, for the supporters of UDPS it was the great momentum. Compared with the NSC transition, the post-war transition is not ‘Congolese’ but ‘foreign’. The peace agreement and the political transition that followed are by them considered a betrayal of the Congolese people (Street Parliamentarians 2010, Int.). As an opposition party that has left the peace negotiations in discontent and that has boycotted the political process up until the 2011 elections, UDPS is perhaps most vocal in its rejection of the Sun City peace process and the political system it has installed. For them peace and democracy mean freedom, a freedom in everyday life; this freedom does not currently exist in the Congo (Street Parliamentarians 2010, Int.).

In view of these disappointments the initial euphoria about the peace agreement and democratisation process have turned into a general complaint about the peace process being imposed on the Congo by the international community. Some see the war and the Sun City peace process as a strategy of the international community to install a new neo-colonial regime in the Congo. According to civil society representatives in Bukavu, the peace negotiations and the power-sharing agreement that was negotiated were imposed on the Congo by the international community. A great sense of injustice exists, and people feel betrayed by the international community which has imposed peace negotiations and a power-sharing agreement on the Congolese, while the regime in neighbouring Rwanda is not put under pressure to make peace with the FDLR. While Rwandan President Kagame refuses to talk to FDLR, eastern Congo suffers from the conflict which is being fought on Congolese soil.Footnote ¹² The international community is therefore considered complicit in the continuation of instability and insecurity in the Congo (Civil society representatives 2010a and 2010b, Int.; Member of Parliament 2010, Int.). It should, however, be mentioned here that since 2013 MONUSCO has launched a new and more robust Intervention Brigade (FIB) to neutralise armed groups in Eastern DRC. It is composed of Tanzanian, South African and Malawian troops, and thus possibly less implicated directly in Congolese concerns about Western power. It has defeated M23 in November 2013, but has so far failed to respond effectively to FDLR. This is largely due to the ways in which the FIB has also been caught up in the complex security politics of the Eastern DRC (Vogel Reference Vogel2014). Popular responses to the FIB are beyond the scope of this paper, and it remains to be seen how in future these events will be given a place in the Congolese historical narrative.

At his inauguration, President Kabila spoke of an ‘unjust war that was imposed upon us’, a war that was brought to the Congo by the UN and certain Western countries, who now fail to adequately solve the conflict (Kabila Kabange Reference Kabila Kabange2008). Not only has the Congo become a victim of a crisis that wasn't its own, it is also not assisted adequately by those responsible, leaving the country victimised twice. Evidently, Kabila's argument enables him to pass on the responsibility for the continued conflict and instability to others. But he can only employ this narrative for his own political purpose, because the argument resonates so strongly with his people. At the same time, in order to gain legitimacy he must also present himself as a victim of Western interferences just like other Congolese to counter claims that he is a pawn of the West.

An important element of the peace agreement was that during the transitional period the warring factions would share power in the transitional institutions. The President was assisted by four Vice-Presidents, coming from the Presidents' party, two coming from the two largest rebel movements, and one Vice-President representing the unarmed opposition. The idea behind the 1+4 formula was that the Presidency could function as a platform to forge consensus between the former belligerents, and where mutual trust and confidence could be built. However, in effect it functioned as a platform on which the war between the belligerent leaders continued, thereby paralysing governance and the transition process (De Goede & Van der Borgh Reference De Goede and van der Borgh2008). Such a power-sharing formula may have been necessary to end hostilities; for many Congolese it was another example of how the international community, the West, finds arrangements to keep the country under its control – ‘the West does not want a sovereign Congo, it does not want a democratic Congo, it does not want the rule of law in the Congo. It wants a weak Congo to exploit’ (Street Parliament, 2010, in discussion). A civil society activist told me that ‘since Sun City and the transition, Congo is under tutelage of the International Community. We have accepted the 1 + 4 in the name of peace. But the 1 + 4 was not legitimate, the whole transition process was not legitimate. All the problems we are faced with now are a consequence of the 1 + 4’ (Civil society activist 2010, Int.).

The idea that the 1 + 4 was a neo-imperialist structure through which the West could regain control over Congolese affairs was strongly fed by the existence of the International Committee in support of the Transition (CIAT), a committee of international Ambassadors, headed by the UN Special Representative of the UN Secretary General (SRSG) Bill Swing, that worked closely with President, Vice-Presidents and Government on the implementation of the peace agreement.Footnote ¹³ From the donors' perspective it made sense that the funders wanted to oversee a process that they were sceptical about, and that they arranged for a mechanism that would form some form of guarantee on the process. SRSG Swing called it a moral authority that had only a supportive role (CIAT 2006). For many Congolese, however, it was an interference in Congolese sovereignty, that was on occasion considered threatening by political elites (Member of Parliament 2006, Int.; Minister 2007, Int.; Vice-President 2007, Int.). A civil society activist who was a Member of the Transitional Parliament said that ‘we understood that Bill Swing was the real head of state, that he controlled everything. Joseph Kabila was only a farce’ (Former Member of Transitional Parliament 2010, Int.). The international community was overtly present on the political stage and involved in political processes. For many Congolese this was too much, either because it was seen as illegitimate interference in domestic affairs, or because it was interpreted as a conspiracy between the greedy political leaders and their foreign patrons. In either case, it was considered as a breach of Congolese self-determination that could only be intended to prevent Congolese emancipation.

This understanding that the peace agreement and the political transition was an agenda of the international community as opposed to an agenda of the Congolese people did for some discredit the 2006 elections. Concerns about electoral fraud and the manipulation of the elections were not so much concerned with fraud attempts of the candidates, but much more with strategies to manipulate the outcome by the international community. To the frustration of many diplomats, Congolese politicians often referred to ‘your elections’ instead of ‘our elections’ (Western diplomat 2006, Int.). It was widely believed that the international community wanted Kabila to win. Although this sentiment was initially particularly strong in those parts of the country where UDPS and Bemba had strong support bases, in the years following people in the eastern part of the country where Kabila had had his support base also realised that ‘the hand that gives is also the hand that receives’ (Civil society representatives 2010b, Int.; Member of Parliament 2010, Int.). This is what the passer-by on that morning in November 2009 referred to when he said ‘it's your fault’ and ‘I don't like Kabila’. For them the elections of 2006 were a farce and the results have been manipulated because ‘the West wanted Kabila’. Likewise, a year before the 2011 elections, it was argued that ‘the international community already knows who will be the winner of 2011’ (Street Parliament 2010, in discussion).

During a discussion at the Street Parliament of Victoire in Kinshasa, a street parliamentarian that had taken the stage asked the audience ‘Kabila has declared 2010 as ‘l'année social ’, but who has eaten this morning?’ The audience remained quiet, until somebody from the audience uttered ‘Louis Michel’. The rest of the Parliamentarians present suppressed a bittersweet laugh. It was comical, but profoundly meaningful as well. A while later, another speaker argued that the West has assassinated Laurent Kabila, and placed Joseph Kabila in his place. ‘But where does he come from?’ ‘Louis Michel’, was the response. It was a reference to the popular discussion at the time when Joseph Kabila's nationality was a highly contested issue. People questioned whether he was the legitimate son of Laurent Kabila, and more importantly, whether he was actually Congolese, claiming that he was Rwandese, and therefore part of the international conspiracy against Congo. The suggestion that Kabila is the son of Louis Michel implies that Joseph Kabila as President is the son of the international community and thus a puppet of the West.

Kabila's opponents thus see a parallel between Kabila and Mobutu: both accessed power with the help of the West, but against the will of many people. A popular saying is that there is ‘Mobutism without Mobutu’ in the country nowadays (Taxi driver 2009, in conversation). This parallel goes further than the perceived similarity between Mobutu's and Kabila's access to power, their relations with Western powers and the rule they practice. Mobutu was on the one hand accused by the NSC while on the other hand the blame was in fact passed on to Western powers. The same now counts for Kabila. As a puppet of the West, his hands are tied and he cannot properly defend the interests of his people even if he would have wanted to. Even his opponents understand this. The West is often held responsible for the policy failures of the new regime, arguing that Kabila is controlled by the West. According to a civil servant in Kinshasa, who had made it clear that he was not a Kabila supporter, Kabila has no choice then to do as the international community wants, ‘[o]r else he will be murdered, just like Lumumba, just like Father Kabila, and just like how Mobutu has also been put aside when he was no longer useful’. A Congolese employee of a European NGO who was present at the conversation confirmed the story, ‘indeed, he has no choice’, she added (Civil servant 2009, Int.). What is fixed in this repertoire is the role of the International Community; what is open for debate and dependent on which political camp one associates with is the involvement of specific Congolese actors in this conspiracy against the Congo.

Paradoxically, the elections could also be framed as an opportunity for redemption, a new beginning and a symbolic end to the neo-colonial past. From this perspective, people were proud of the elections of 2006. A civil society activist argued that people have not voted for the person Kabila, but for peace, for self-determination, for sovereignty, for unification and against balkanisation of the country. For the people in Eastern Congo, ‘voting for Kabila meant voting for that’. For them, at least at the time, Kabila was not the representation of Western interests, but the redeemer. Contrary to their countrymen in the western part of the country, they did – at least at the time – not see the hand of the West in the electoral results. People saw elections as a means to make an end to all sorts of misery, war, poverty, lack of wellbeing, foreign interference (Former Member of Transitional Parliament 2010, Int.). For those that were successful in the 2006 elections, such as Antoine Gizenga and his PALU who won the Premiership and Kabila and his PPRD who won the Presidency, it was a victory over dictatorship, foreign interference, foreign-instigated conflict, and the reclaiming of self-determination. PALU members argued that ‘we have found our dignity again with the elections’ (PALU representatives and members 2010, Int.).Footnote ¹⁴ Kabila tells the Congolese that the future is ‘founded on the strength of emancipatory and democratic ambition which is discernible through the patriotic engagement of all our compatriots’ (Kabila Kabange Reference Kabila Kabange2008).

The elections and the launch of the new democratic state thus became understood as the emancipatory moment when Congolese re-claimed the self-determination and sovereignty that was lost in 1960. In the words of a former MP:

For those in power, the long awaited redemption was (or may have been) finally there, while the threat of foreign meddling remained ever present. For those who have lost power, the West has again stifled redemption and the struggle continues. The elections and the launch of the Third Republic in 2006 were therefore simultaneously a moment of change when dignity and self-determination were reclaimed, as well as a continuation of the historical sequence of foreign interference in Congolese affairs.