In April 1994, as SA was ushering in the dawn of freedom, Rwanda was engulfed in a genocide in which about 800,000 people were killed. But as SA steadily descended into a quagmire of corruption and depravity under its new rulers, Rwanda has picked itself up, nursed its wounds and changed the course of its destiny. It is now regarded as one of the economic success stories in Africa.
Most of the credit goes to Paul Kagame, its no-nonsense leader, who exchanged his guerrilla fatigues for the sharp suits of a politician. Suave, softly spoken and articulate, he’s as direct with words as he was with his rifle. He has taken this tiny landlocked country of 13-million people by the scruff of the neck and led it to relative prosperity almost by force of will.
Other African countries can only dream of making the kind of strides that Rwanda has made in health, education and economic development. Corporate executives speak in almost reverential tones about the ease with which they can start a business in Rwanda; there are none of the bureaucratic hassles they often endure in other countries. Corruption is almost unheard of. The streets are spick and span. Tito Mboweni, our loquacious finance minister, never misses a chance to put in a good word for Kigali — its cleanliness often competing for his adoration with his own questionable cuisine.
Kagame has earned himself something of a cult following on a continent long bedevilled by corrupt and self-serving autocrats. He’s treated almost like a rock star on the international conference circuit, hobnobbing with the great and the good. Charity organisations fall over themselves to support Rwanda, delighted that every buck they give is appropriately spent.
But there's a dark side. Kagame brooks no opposition. He has turned Rwanda into a one-party state. His opponents endure constant harassment and receive long jail terms on trumped-up charges. Those engaging in opposition politics seem to take their lives in their hands. Those who opt for life in exile frequently end up dead under mysterious circumstances.
As Faustin Kayumba Nyamwasa, a former Rwandan army chief who was shot in the stomach here in SA, once said: “Most of President Kagame’s political opponents are in exile or in prison or are dead.” Another exile told an interviewer he was mystified by the silence of the international community in the face of Kagame’s murderous escapades. “It is like he has a licence to kill,” he said. Kagame appears to harbour particular anger for former comrades or allies who dare to cross him.
For example, Seth Sendashonga, a former interior minister, was assassinated in Nairobi in 1998. Other high-profile Kagame opponents have come to SA, which has therefore become a happy hunting ground for his death squad. Some of the shootings go unremarked because of SA’s high crime rate. The Rwandan government always denies responsibility.
A case that stands out is that of Patrick Karegeya, a long-time comrade of Kagame. When Kagame took over as president in Rwanda, Karegeya became head of intelligence. Years later, the two fell out, and Karegeya made his way to SA as a refugee. On New Year’s Day in 2014 he was found dead in his hotel room in Sandton, apparently strangled. Nobody was ever arrested, and Rwanda denied involvement.
Needless to say the targeting of Rwandan refugees in SA has become a source of conflict between the two governments. But SA seems to lack the bottle to deal decisively with Rwanda’s flagrant violations of its autonomy. It tries its best to avoid picking a fight.
International attention has now turned to the fate of another prominent Rwandan dissident, Paul Rusesabagina. He was immortalised in the movie Hotel Rwanda for the courage he displayed when, as manager of the Hôtel des Mille Collines, he saved hundreds of Hutu and Tutsi refugees during the 1994 genocide. He subsequently won numerous humanitarian awards, including the Presidential Medal of Freedom from US president George W Bush.
He left Rwanda for exile in Belgium more than 20 years ago, and has been unsparing in his criticism of Kagame ever since. “Rwanda is today a nation governed by and for the benefit of a small elite of Tutsis,” he wrote in his autobiography. “Those few Hutus who have been elevated to high-ranking positions are empty suits without any real authority. They are known as Hutus for hire.” Kagame has claimed that Rusesabagina’s reputation is undeserved.
In August this year, Rusesabagina — who divides his time between Belgium and the US — travelled to Dubai. His family were stunned to learn a few days later that he was in custody in Rwanda. The authorities claimed he was arrested in Kigali, because “he was a founder, leader, sponsor and member of violent, armed, extremist terror outfits”. His family claims he was kidnapped in Dubai and would never go to Rwanda of his own free will. Rusesabagina said in an interview conducted in prison that he had boarded a private plane in Dubai that he thought was bound for Burundi, where he had a speaking engagement. Instead it took him to Kigali.
“We believe he was taken by extraordinary rendition to Rwanda,” said a spokeswoman for the Hotel Rwanda Rusesabagina Foundation. He now faces years in jail, or worse. But don’t expect any condemnation of Kagame’s actions from fellow African leaders or from his slew of international admirers. His intolerant and murderous actions prove he’s nothing but another chip off the old block.
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