The Economist - USA (2020-09-05)

38 Middle East & Africa The EconomistSeptember 5th 2020

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1

In any case, monusco can stay only as

long as the Congolese government wants it

to. It is meant to work alongside the nation-

al army. Whereas Congo’s former presi-

dent, Joseph Kabila, routinely threatened

to kick it out, his successor, Félix Tshise-

kedi, is keener to co-operate with it. Yet

working with the army is tricky. Its unruly,

underpaid soldiers often collaborate with

rebels, selling them guns and tipping them

off. Sometimes they kill and loot together.

Many former rebel warlords have been giv-

en senior posts in the army in exchange for

surrendering their weapons. Their thugs

tend to go on pillaging as before—but in

army uniforms.

“We cannot trust our soldiers and we do

not know who the enemy is,” says a villager

near Beni whose eight neighbours were

rounded up and shot outside their houses

last year. He says the killers were uni-

formed Congolese soldiers speaking Linga-

la, the language of the capital and the army.

These murders took place barely a mile

from monusco’s offices, sparking the prot-

ests in which they were burned down. “No-

body came to help. We were forgotten.”

To make matters worse,un troops in

Congo have themselves often been accused

of violence. Dozens of women say they

have been raped by blue-helmeted soldiers

in eastern Congo. Posters in monusco’s

barracks remind un troops not to have sex

with under-age women.

Yet for all monusco’s faults, Congo

would probably be worse off without it. Its

soldiers are more trusted than the Congo-

lese army. “In many places, peacekeepers

are the only ones who are actually trying to

protect people,” says Séverine Autesserre,

author of “The Trouble with Congo”. mo-

nusco’s civilian staff have documented

abuses by rebels and the army that would

have gone unnoticed. Aid agencies rely on

monusco’s planes and armed escorts to

help them reach remote, beleaguered

places. If monusco leaves in a rush it will

leave a gaping hole that is bound to be filled

by rebels and predatory soldiers. 7

CONGO

CAR

CONGO-

BRAZZAVILLE

TANZANIA

UGANDA

SOUTH

SUDAN

ANGOLA ZAMBIA

BURUNDI

RWANDA

Kinshasa

Ituri

Bukavu

Goma

Beni

500 km

Violence against civilians

Jan 1st-Aug 1st 2020, fatalities

Source: ACLED

1 10 30

W

hat makes a national election na-

tional? One answer is that everyone is

able to vote. But politicians in Burkina Faso

disagree. With little consultation, the main

political parties have voted to change the

electoral code so that presidential and leg-

islative elections to be held in November

will be deemed valid even if people are un-

able to vote in the vast tracts of the country

that are plagued by jihadists.

One mp, Aziz Diallo, describes the

change as an “attack on democracy”. An-

other, Alexandre Sankara, says it “violates

the constitution”. It is but the latest worry-

ing sign in a country at the heart of the fight

against violent extremists in the Sahel.

Only a few years ago Burkina Faso

looked on the road to democracy after a

popular uprising toppled its longtime dic-

tator, Blaise Compaoré, leading to free elec-

tions in 2015. The first big setback was a

spillover of jihadist violence from neigh-

bouring Mali that has intensified since

2018. More than 1,700 people were killed in
      the first half of this year in fighting that of-
      ten involved ethnic militias, up from about
      300 in the whole of 2018. Roughly half the
      country (mainly rural areas) has been over-
      run by armed groups, says Héni Nsaibia of
      Menastream, a research consultancy. Over
      1m people, of a population of 20m or so,
      have been forced to flee their homes.
      Many more than that may struggle to
      vote. In July 52 of 127 mps said it was not safe
      to campaign in their constituencies. Voters
      in the countryside are the most likely to be
      left out. In almost a fifth of villages no vot-
      ers have been registered at all. Polling sta-
      tions will probably be abandoned in many
      more villages on election day, when the se-
      curity forces will be stretched thin. Mr San-
      kara reckons that people may be disenfran-
      chised across five of Burkina’s 13 regions.
      In July politicians ruled out delaying
      the elections because they feared that
      would deprive the government of legitima-
      cy. But ignoring the rights of millions may
      be no better, particularly since those who
      will be unable to vote because of insecurity
      are precisely those who have most reason
      to be angry with incumbent politicians.
      What with widespread accusations of
      atrocities by the security forces, Burkina
      Faso’s government could soon face a crisis
      of legitimacy much like the one that is tear-
      ing Mali apart. There, too, jihadists have
      overrun swathes of the countryside. Dodgy
      parliamentary elections with a paltry turn-

outearlierthisyearwere followed by mas-

sive anti-government protests and then a

coup. ecowas, the regional bloc, has told

the soldiers running Mali to hand back

power to a civilian administration and

hold elections within a year. But the men in

uniform want to stay in power for three

years. When democracy falls, it is hard to

restore. Burkina beware. 7

Insecurity and a change to the electoral

law risk disenfranchising millions

Elections in Burkina Faso

Sacking the voters

No home and no vote

T

he last time Trésor Rusesabagina

spoke to his father was on his birthday,

when the latter called from his home in San

Antonio, Texas, to wish his son well. “He

hadn’t been anywhere for ages because of

lockdown and I thought he was just hang-

ing out, watering his plants.”

On August 31st Trésor woke up to a wel-

ter of messages on his phone, asking if he’d

heard the news. Paul Rusesabagina had just

appeared in handcuffs at a press confer-

ence in Kigali, Rwanda’s capital, hosted by

the Rwanda Investigation Bureau. The au-

thorities accuse him of founding and lead-

ing “armed extremist terror outfits” fight-

ing the Rwandan state. Mr Rusesabagina

had told his wife he was flying to Dubai for

a meeting. How he ended up in Rwanda’s

capital remains unclear.

For the former manager of the Hotel des

Mille Collines, the rendition is a nightmare

come true. Since moving his family to Bel-

gium in 1996, where he applied for asylum

before relocating to America, he had lived

Paul Kagame’s regime grows more

brazen in attacking its critics

Rwanda’s celebrated hotel manager

We don’t need

another hero