Opposition candidate Etlienne Tshisekedi campaigns

The Democratic Republic of Congo is, as this piece is written, conducting its second democratic election since the end of the civil war in 2001. As Marco Jowell reminds us, Congo remains a ‘post-conflict state.’ Meaning, in the language of international development consultants and Foreign Office engagement strategies, although the war might be over, the on-the-ground causes of conflict still remain. These can only be dealt with by delving ever deeper into a country with a vast and complex history of violence, and a political system which for many years has been characterised by inertia.

Elections are in themselves only the most overt expressions of democratic practice. But democracy is, internationally, the only game in town, and Congo’s leaders want to play this game. Even the country’s full name ‘the Democratic Republic of Congo’ seems to brazenly assert this fact, when there is little evidence to suggest that ‘democracy’ is making the lives of the people who live in the DRC any better.

The current election may seem like a healthy competitive process, with the incumbent Joseph Kabila facing a strong challenge from veteran opposition firebrand Etienne Tshisekedi (well-supported in Kinshasa) and the former speaker of the National Assembly, Vital Kamerhe (favoured in the East). In challenging Kabila’s political ascendancy it would have certainly been more effective for opposition figures to have united together behind a single candidate. However, this would have run counter to the orientation of politics in the DRC, in which politicians survive through myriad local alliances, patronage and business deals.

Some Congolese have been saying that if Kabila were to lose, ‘c’est la guerre’ – which means Kabila probably won’t lose, or won’t allow himself to lose. With executive command over what state resources have been assembled through deals with international corporations, and control over the country’s armed forces, Kabila holds all the advantages of the incumbent. However, Tshisekedi (who served in the government of former dictator Mobuto sese Seko) has already claimed that he believes himself to be the rightful President, and will almost certainly bring his supporters to the streets in the event of his likely defeat.

But whoever wins will face the same huge challenges that confront this huge country. Once the spectacle of democratic practice has faded for another few years, ordinary Congolese will be able, once again, to begin building from the ground up the houses, small businesses, roads, clinics and schools that are the real and tangible basis for and products of a democracy.

Youssou Ndour performs at the Mo Ibrahim Prize awards ceremony in Tunis - photo courtesy of Portland Communications

I spent last weekend in Tunis to attend the Mo Ibrahim Prize ceremony and the attendant conference on agriculture. The $5 million prize is for an African leader who is elected, rules well and steps down when his term ends. Unawarded for the past two years for lack of candidates, it went this year to the former President of Cape Verde, Pedro Verona Pires. He is a small, unassuming man and he made a modest but tough acceptance speech pointing out global injustice. He certainly had the democratic credentials to qualify for the prize but some may wonder about the relevance to the continent of these ten small islands off the west coast of Africa, population – just over half a million.

In fact Cape Verde was the birthplace of Amilcar Cabral, one of Africa’s most inspirational independence leaders. His parents were from Guinea Bissau and he founded the movement demanding independence from Portugal. He became one of the most influential independence leaders. Pires was one of his followers and his speech in Tunis was laced with 1960s revolutionary rhetoric. Cape Verde and Guinea Bissau on mainland Africa became independent as one nation in 1974 but they separated on very different trajectories after a coup in Guinea Bissau in 1980. While Cape Verde’s leaders, like Pires, put their energies into creating a better life for its people, Guinea Bissau is now a narco state and one of the poorest – and nastiest – countries in the world.

Mo Ibrahim has a knack of mixing serious business with celebration and fun. On Sunday we had to be up early for a high powered conference on the future of agriculture in Africa. But Saturday night was party time. Mo has attracted a diverse group of friends and supporters. He brought along two of Africa’s biggest rock stars – Youssou Ndour and Angelique Kidjo – to sing at a huge open concert for the Tunisian people and then at the prize giving ceremony. At the end of the evening they called up everyone onto the stage to dance and I found myself between Mary Robinson, the former Irish president, and George Soros.

It is strange and wonderful to be in a country where everyone is happy. I stayed on a day to talk to Tunisians I had met at the conference. Free from the greedy repressive 23-year dictatorship of Ben Ali, the “nice guys of North Africa” as the Tunisians see themselves, just cannot stop smiling whenever you ask them how things are now. I hope this is not a false honeymoon. On paper it looks good: a moderate “Turkish-style” Islamic party, Ennahda, in coalition with the two secular parties Ettakatol and Congress for the Republic. They are tasked with drawing up a new constitution. But many of the politicians in these parties have not lived in Tunisia in recent years. The students who overthrew Ben Ali are barely represented in the new government. Yet they still throng the Avenue Bourgiba and the bars in the surrounding streets. You felt the intense buzz as they talk animatedly, enjoying their new freedom, watching developments closely. What will happen if they disagree with the government? That’s one possible fault line. The other is that woman are worried that even the moderate Islamists may start to squeeze them out of public life and the workplace.

Jason Stearn’s Dancing in the Glory of Monsters is a brilliant book on the war in Congo. I followed that war as closely as I could from London with occasional forays into that cursed country including a three day trip in a dug-out canoe down the Ubangi River to visit the site of a massacre. But I didn’t know the half of it. This book answers a lot of the vital questions: what is the connection with the Rwandan genocide and what role did Rwanda, Uganda and Angola play in creating today’s murderous chaos in Eastern Congo? Who murdered Laurent Kabila and why? Stearns gets close to former fighters, victims and witnesses, and tells their often horrific stories. Then he pulls back to make cool and generous judgements.

He points out that 800,000 died during the fastest genocide in history when the Rwandan Tutsis and some Hutus were slaughtered in Rwanda in 1994. The Rwandan Tutsis then murdered some 80,000 Hutus who had fled into Congo. No one knows the real figure. Yes, more Tutsis were killed in the genocide but the subsequent wars in Congo have killed some 4 million people, directly or indirectly over the next few years. And it is still going on. Will next week’s election be a turning point when Congo gets a decent and effective government?

The heroes are small people. The rulers come out badly. I would love to see honest responses from him and Presidents Kagame and Museveni to this book. All those who see Rwanda as the New Jerusalem and Paul Kagame as the saviour of Central Africa should read it.

Richard Dowden is Director of the Royal African Society

1. Although the 60 Minutes story focuses on current conflict in South Kivu, most of the footage used in the story is of a gold mine in the relatively peaceful Ituri District, a few hundred miles to the north. The story starts with dramatic footage of what the correspondent, Scott Pelley, describes simply as a “gold mine in central Africa.” This large, terraced pit mine is in fact the Chudja mine, located approximately thirty miles northwest of Bunia, the capital of the Ituri District. There was a bloody war in Ituri from 1999 until 2007, but the good news is that large parts of Ituri—including the rich gold fields in the Chudja area—are at peace. There are still significant problems around Chudja, related mainly to the Congolese army and police, but there is no active conflict. Yet 60 Minutes repeatedly shows Chudja when talking about ongoing conflict in Congo, thus creating a false impression about the extent of the connection between gold and current war. Which leads to the second problem.

2. The second problem could be summarized as “The Enough Project”, but more specifically, the problem is the statements made by John Prendergast, Enough’s director. In the segment, Prendergast states: “If you do a conflict analysis you will find that when there are spikes in violence, it has something to do with contestation over the mineral resources, gold and the rest of them.” Prendergast goes on to say that conflict will continue “until we break that cycle and address the root issue here, which is the gold and the other conflict minerals.” Academics and policymakers who have taken more than a passing glance at the Congo wars will scoff at Prendergast’s deeply flawed and simplistic “conflict analysis”, but Prendergast is not talking to people who know something—he’s talking to those who know very little or nothing, who are the target audience of Enough’s self-appointed campaign to “save Congo”. Enough is guilty of vastly understating the role of history, ethnicity, local and regional politics, and other factors in causing and sustaining war in Congo, or more accurately, war in the Kivus, since most of Congo is now in a state of quasi-peace. Prendergast should know better, and likely he does know better, but he has created a campaign that vastly oversimplifies the conflict in the Congo and ignores the fact that most gold produced in Congo is from areas at peace—not at war—which leads to the final problem with the 60 Minutes story.

3. The third problem is the suggestion that gold can or should be cut off from Congo. In his interview with Scott Rumsey from the Responsible Jewelry Council, correspondent Scott Pelley asks: “Why can’t the industry cut off the [gold] supply from Congo and strangle the civil war there?” Let’s think about that statement for a minute, which was broadcast into the homes of tens of millions of Americans. First, the wars in the Kivus are not simply about competition over gold, so cutting off Congo’s gold is not a practical solution for ending the wars. 60 Minutes and Enough have created the impression that wherever there is gold, there is conflict (and rape), but this is simply not true. Second, cutting off the gold supply from Congo would mean putting approximately 100,000 artisanal miners out of work in the gold mines around Chudja alone, plus untold tens of thousands in other parts of Congo that are not experiencing conflict. Cutting off Congo’s gold would be a social and economic disaster for areas like Ituri that are struggling to emerge from war. Third, cutting off Congo’s gold is completely impractical. Nearly all of Congo’s gold is smuggled out of the country, and short of heavily militarizing Congo’s entire border and strip-searching everyone at the airports, this suggestion is not viable. Pelley could be excused for making such a naïve statement, since it apparently comes directly out of Enough’s talking points, but his statement should be discredited because of its dangerous suggestion that cutting off Congo’s gold is worthwhile policy objective.

Some people might say that any press is good press when it comes to war in Congo, but I disagree. High profile media coverage, like that of 60 Minutes, can be a powerful tool in educating people about how they as consumers may inadvertently support war in other countries, and some recent stories have done an excellent job in this respect. But media coverage can also be a dangerous tool in promoting false notions about the root causes of conflict in a place like Congo, and in suggesting misguided policies to address those supposed root causes.