• The Mass Murder we don't talk about (1/2)

    From Steve Hayes@1:229/2 to All on Monday, June 04, 2018 05:49:31
    XPost: soc.history, soc.rights.human, soc.culture.african
    XPost: alt.books, rec.arts.books
    From: hayesstw@telkomsa.net

    The Mass Murder We Don’t Talk About

    Helen Epstein

    New York Review of Books,7 June 2018 issue

    Review of:
    In Praise of Blood: The Crimes of the Rwandan Patriotic Front

    by Judi Rever
    Random House Canada, 277 pp., CAN$32.00

    During the 1990s, unprecedented violence erupted in Central Africa. In
    Sudan, the civil war intensified; in Rwanda, there was genocide; in
    Congo millions died in a conflict that simmers to this day; and in
    Uganda, millions more were caught between a heartless warlord and an
    even more heartless military counterinsurgency.

    This wasn’t supposed to happen. Although the US had for decades backed dictatorships and right-wing rebels across the continent, George H.W.
    Bush had declared in his 1989 inaugural speech that “a new breeze
    [was] blowing…. For in man’s heart, if not in fact, the day of the
    dictator is over. The totalitarian era is passing…. Great nations of
    the world are moving toward democracy through the door to freedom.”

    Bush and his successors supported peace on much of the African
    continent by funding democracy promotion programs and sanctioning, or threatening to sanction, South Africa and other countries if their
    leaders didn’t allow multiparty elections and free political
    prisoners. But in Uganda, Ethiopia, and a small number of other
    countries, the Bush and Clinton administrations lavished development
    and military aid on dictators who in turn funneled weapons to
    insurgents in Sudan, Rwanda, and Congo. In this way, Washington helped
    stoke the interlinked disasters that have claimed millions of lives
    since the late 1980s and still roil much of eastern and central Africa
    today. The complicity of the US in those disasters has not yet been sufficiently exposed, but Judi Rever’s In Praise of Blood explores how Washington helped obscure the full story of the genocide that
    devastated Rwanda during the 1990s and cover up the crimes of the
    Rwandan Patriotic Front (PF), which has ruled the country ever since.

    The familiar story about the Rwandan genocide begins in April 1994,
    when Hutu militias killed hundreds of thousands of Tutsis, mostly with
    machetes and other simple weapons. The RPF, a Tutsi-dominated rebel
    army, advanced through the mayhem and finally brought peace to the
    country in July.

    The RPF’s leader, Paul Kagame, eventually became president of Rwanda
    and remains in power today. He has overseen a technocratic economic
    revival, the installation of one of the best information technology
    networks in Africa, and a sharp decline in maternal and child
    mortality.

    Political dissent is suppressed, many of Kagame’s critics are in jail,
    and some have even been killed—but his Western admirers tend to
    overlook this. Bill Clinton has praised Kagame as “one of the greatest leaders of our time,” and Tony Blair’s nonprofit Institute for Global Change continues to advise and support his government.

    Over the years, less valiant portraits of Kagame and the RPF have
    appeared in academic monographs and self-published accounts by Western
    and Rwandan academics, journalists, and independent researchers,
    including Filip Reyntjens, André Guichaoua, Edward Herman, Robin
    Philpot, David Himbara, Gérard Prunier, Barrie Collins, and the BBC’s
    Jane Corbin.

    Taken together, they suggest that the RPF actually provoked the war
    that led to the genocide of the Tutsis and committed mass killings of
    Hutus before, during, and after it. In Praise of Blood is the most
    accessible and up-to-date of these studies. Rever’s account begins in
    October 1990, when several thousand RPF fighters invaded Rwanda from neighboring Uganda. The RPF was made up of refugees born to Rwandan
    parents who fled anti-Tutsi pogroms during the early 1960s and were
    determined to go home. Its leaders, including Kagame, had fought
    alongside Uganda’s president Yoweri Museveni in the war that brought
    him to power in 1986. They’d then been appointed to senior Ugandan
    army positions—Kagame was Museveni’s chief of military intelligence in
    the late 1980s—which they deserted when they invaded Rwanda.In August
    1990, two months before the RPF invasion, the Hutu-dominated Rwandan government had actually agreed, in principle, to allow the refugees to
    return. The decision had been taken under enormous international
    pressure, the details were vague, and the process would likely have
    dragged on, or not occurred at all. But the RPF invasion preempted a potentially peaceful solution to the refugee conundrum. For three and
    a half years, the rebels occupied a large swath of northern Rwanda
    while the Ugandan army supplied them with weapon, in violation of the
    UN Charter and Organization of African Unity rules.

    Washington knew what was going on but did nothing to stop it. On the
    contrary, US foreign aid to Uganda doubled in the years after the
    invasion, and in 1991, Uganda purchased ten times more US weapons than
    in the preceding forty years combined. During the occupation, roughly
    a million Hutu peasants fled RPF-controlled areas, citing killings, abductions, and other crimes. An Italian missionary working in the
    area at the time told Rever that the RPF laid landmines around springs
    that blew up children, and invaded a hospital in a town called
    Nyarurema and shot nine patients dead. According to Alphonse Furuma,
    one of the founders of the RPF, the purpose was to clear the area,
    steal animals, take over farms, and, presumably, scare away anyone who
    might think of protesting.

    The Ugandan army, which trained the RPF, had used similar tactics
    against its own Acholi people during the 1980s and 1990s, so these
    accounts seem plausible.

    At least one American was angry about the RPF invasion. US ambassador
    to Rwanda Robert Flaten witnessed how it sent shock waves throughout
    the country, whose majority-Hutu population had long feared a Tutsi
    attack from Uganda. Flaten urged the Bush administration to impose
    sanctions on Uganda for supplying the RPF, noting that Saddam Hussein
    had invaded Kuwait only two months earlier and been met with
    near-universal condemnation, a UN Security Council demand that he
    withdraw, and a US military assault.

    By contrast, the Bush administration, which was then supplying most of Uganda’s budget through foreign aid, treated the RPF invasion of
    Rwanda with nonchalance. When it took place, Museveni happened to be
    visiting the US. He assured State Department officials that he’d known nothing about it, and promised to prevent weapons from crossing the
    border and court-martial any defectors who attempted to return to
    Uganda. He then did neither, with the apparent approval of US
    diplomats. In 1991 and 1992 US officials met RPF leaders inside Uganda
    and monitored the flow of weapons across the border, but made no
    effort to stop it, even when the Rwandan government and its French
    allies complained.

    Years later, Bush’s assistant secretary of state for Africa Herman
    Cohen expressed regret for failing to pressure Museveni to stop
    supporting the RPF, but by then it was too late. At the time, Cohen
    maintained that the US feared that sanctions might harm Uganda’s
    robust economic growth.

    But he hasn’t explained why Washington allowed the RPF—by invading Rwanda—to ruin that country’s economy, which had previously been
    similarly robust. Robert Gribbin, a diplomat then stationed at the US
    embassy in Kampala, has claimed that sanctions weren’t considered
    because they might have interfered with Uganda’s “nascent democratic initiatives,” without mentioning that Museveni’s security forces were torturing and jailing members of Uganda’s nonviolent opposition and
    also pursuing a brutal counterinsurgency in northern Uganda that would
    claim hundreds of thousands of Ugandan lives.

    The UN may also have turned a blind eye to Museveni and Kagame’s
    schemes. In October 1993 a contingent of UN peacekeepers was deployed
    to help implement a peace agreement between the RPF and the Rwandan government. One of its mandates was to ensure that weapons, personnel,
    and supplies didn’t cross into Rwanda from Uganda. But when the peacekeepers’ commander, Canadian general Roméo Dallaire, visited the Ugandan border town of Kabale, a Ugandan officer told him that his
    peacekeepers would have to provide twelve hours’ notice so that
    escorts could be arranged to accompany them on patrols. Dallaire
    protested, since the element of surprise is crucial for such
    monitoring missions. The Ugandans stood their ground, and also refused
    to allow Dallaire to inspect an arsenal in Mbarara, a Ugandan town
    about eighty miles from the Rwandan border, which was rumored to be
    supplying the RPF.

    Dallaire has not said whether he brought Uganda’s obstruction to the attention of the Security Council, and he didn’t respond to my
    interview requests. But in 2004 he told a US congressional hearing
    that Museveni laughed in his face when they met at a gathering to
    commemorate the tenth anniversary of the genocide. “I remember that UN mission on the border,” Dallaire said Museveni had told him. “We
    maneuvered ways to get around it, and of course we did support the
    movement [i.e., the RPF invasion].”

    The likely reasons why Washington and the UN apparently decided to go
    easy on Uganda and the RPF will be explored in the second part of this article. But for Rwanda’s President Juvénal Habyarimana and his circle
    of Hutu elites, the invasion seems to have had a silver lining. For
    years, tensions between Hutus and Tutsis inside Rwanda had been
    subsiding. Habyarimana had sought reconciliation with Tutsis living in Rwanda—so-called internal Tutsis—by reserving civil service jobs and university places for them in proportion to their share of the
    population.

    Though desultory, this program was modestly successful, and the
    greatest rift in the country was between the relatively small Hutu
    clique around Habyarimana and the millions of impoverished Hutu
    peasants whom they exploited as brutally as had the Tutsi overlords of
    bygone days. While the elites fattened themselves on World Bank “anti-poverty” projects that created lucrative administrative jobs and other perks but did little to alleviate poverty, they continued to
    subject the Hutu poor to forced labor and other abuses.

    Habyarimana, like the leaders of Malawi, Ghana, Zambia, and other
    countries, was under pressure from the US and other donors to allow
    opposition parties to operate. Many of these new parties were
    ethnically mixed, with both Hutu and Tutsi leaders, but they were
    united in criticizing Habyarimana’s autocratic behavior and nepotism
    and the vast economic inequalities in the country.

    The RPF invasion seems to have provided Habyarimana and his circle
    with a political opportunity: now they could distract the disaffected
    Hutu masses from their own abuses by reawakening fears of the “demon Tutsis.” Shortly after the invasion, Hutu elites devised a genocidal propaganda campaign that would bear hideous fruit three and a half
    years later. Chauvinist Hutu newspapers, magazines, and radio programs
    reminded readers that Hutus were the original occupants of the Great
    Lakes region and that Tutsis were Nilotics—supposedly warlike
    pastoralists from Ethiopia who had conquered and enslaved Hutus in the seventeenth century.

    The RPF invasion, they claimed, was nothing more than a plot by
    Museveni, Kagame, and their Tutsi coconspirators to reestablish this
    evil Nilotic empire. Cartoons of Tutsis killing Hutus began appearing
    in magazines, along with warnings that all Tutsis were RPF spies bent
    on dragging the country back to the days when the Tutsi queen
    supposedly rose from her seat supported by swords driven between the
    shoulders of Hutu children.

    In February 1993 an RPF offensive killed hundreds, perhaps thousands
    of Hutus in the northern prefectures of Byumba and Ruhengeri, further
    inflaming anti-Tutsi sentiment. At the time, the Organization of
    African Unity was overseeing peace negotiations between the RPF and
    the government, but the process was fraught. Habyarimana knew
    the RPF was better armed, trained, and disciplined than his own army,
    so under immense international pressure he agreed in August 1993 to a
    peace accord that would grant the RPF seats in a transitional
    government and nearly half of all posts in the army.

    Even Tutsis inside Rwanda were against giving the RPF so much power
    because they knew it would provoke the angry, fearful Hutus to rebel,
    and they were right. Hutu mayors and other local officials were
    already stockpiling rifles, and government-linked anti-Tutsi militia
    groups (including the notorious Interahamwe) were distributing
    machetes and kerosene to prospective génocidaires. In December 1993, a picture of a machete appeared on the front page of one Hutu-chauvinist publication under the headline “What Weapons Can We Use to Defeat the
    Inyenzi [Tutsi Cockroaches] Once and For All?” The following month, the CIA predicted that if tensions were not somehow defused, hundreds
    of thousands of people might die in ethnic violence. This powder keg
    exploded four months later, when on April 6, 1994, a plane carrying
    Habyarimana was shot down as it was preparing to land in Kigali, the
    capital.

    The French sociologist André Guichaoua happened to be in Kigali that
    evening. The country was tense, but peaceful. But Hutu military
    personnel panicked when they heard about the crash. That night they
    began hastily erecting roadblocks around government and army
    installations, while militiamen, many from the presidential guard,
    began moving into position.

    The killing of Tutsis began the following afternoon. According to
    Guichaoua, Tutsis suspected of collaboration with the RPF, which the
    killers blamed for the plane crash, were sought out first, but soon
    the militias were killing every Tutsi they could get their hands on.
    The vast majority of the victims would turn out to be internal Tutsis,
    who had nothing to do with the RPF.

    For decades, blame for the plane crash that set off the genocide has
    fallen on members of Habyarimana’s army who were believed to be
    unhappy about the terms of the August 1993 peace accord. However, a
    growing number of academic studies, judicial reports, and other
    investigations now suggest RPF responsibility. They are based on
    eyewitness testimony from multiple RPF defectors who say they were
    involved in the planning and execution of the plot, as well as
    evidence concerning the origin of the missiles.

    It’s unclear what motive the RPF would have had for shooting down the

    [continued in next message]

    --- SoupGate-Win32 v1.05
    * Origin: www.darkrealms.ca (1:229/2)