Putin’s Wars: from Chechnya to Ukraine by Mark Galeotti (2022)

This is a very military history. Seeing as it also covers the decade before Vladimir Putin came to power, and that it is very focused on the minutiae of the Russian Army, Navy and Air Force, as well as details of the various reforms and reorganisations they have undergone during the Putin years, the book could more accurately have been titled ‘A History of The Russian Army, Navy and Air Force, 1990 to 2022’.

Military units

Here’s an example of what I mean by military minutiae. This is Galeotti’s description of the Russian army’s invasion of Chechnya:

From the north Major General Konstantin Pulikovsky led a mechanised force drawn from the 81st and 276th Motor Rifle regiments and a battalion of the 131st Independent Motor Rifle Brigade. From the west Major General Valery Petruk led elements of the 19th Motor Rifle Division supported by two regiments and two battalions of paratroopers along the railway tracks to seize the central station and then advance on the presidential palace. From the east, the 129th Motor Rifle Regiment and a battalion each of the 98th and 104th Airborne Divisions under Lieutenant Colonel Nikolai Staskov would make a similar thrust along the railway line to Lenin Square in the heart of the city and from there take the bridges across the Sunzha river. From the north-east, Rokhlin himself would lead elements of the 255th and 33rd Motor Rifle Regiments and the 66th Reconnaissance Battalion of the 20th Motor Rifle Division to take the Central Hospital complex, while units of the 76th and 106th Airborne Division would secure the Lenin and Sheripov oil processing factories and chemical works to prevent the rebels from destroying these crucial economic assets. (p.61)

The accounts of all the wars feature lots of paragraphs like this, precise accounts of which units under which commanders went where and how they fared in the fighting.

There’s also a lot of analysis of organisational and administrative reforms from between the wars, as Galeotti gives detailed accounts of the attempts of successive Russian defence ministers, most notably Anatoly Serdyukov and then Sergei Shogai, to reform the Russian army against opposition and inertia from the military high command.

Hence the chapter titled ‘New Look Army’ (pages 142 to 152), which gives us detail of how the Defence Minister and head of the general staff implemented the 2010 plan for a new-look Russian army, half the size of its predecessor but better equipped and better trained, with better retention of conscripts, fewer but better quality senior officers.

Galeotti explains, with maps, the reorganisation of the army into half a dozen military districts, gives a detailed breakdown of what a new-look motorised rifle brigade consisted of (3,800 officers and men) plus a list of all its components (including 1 nuclear, biological and chemical company) and so on. And a similar level of description of the new-look air force and navy, followed by an organogram showing the chain of military command starting with the president and working down.

And then the last 90 or so pages of the original edition of this book (before he added a new chapter about the Ukraine War), pages 229 to 310, present a very detailed review of the current state of all Russia’s fighting forces, army, navy and air forces, along with special forces, paratroopers and black berets, nuclear weapons and so on, as of the time of writing (April 2022).

In this long final section the book turns into a version of ‘Janes Fighting Ships’ only about all aspects of the Russian fighting machine, giving mind-numbing details of the speed, size, range, design and latest versions of a wide range of military kit, from machine guns (the AK12 to replace the ageing AK74) to its sole aircraft carrier (the Admiral Kuznetsov), along with equally excessive detail of each service’s organisational structure, divisions, brigades and so on and so on. Take the opening of the Spetsnaz section:

The Spetsnaz comprise seven regular brigades of various sizes, in total constituting perhaps 19 battalion-size units called Independent Special Designation Detachments (OOSN) each with around 500 personnel. The relatively small 22nd Brigade has just two OOSN, the 173rd and 411th, for example, while the large 14th Brigade… (p.292)

And so very much on, for page after page after page of excruciating detail.

I was looking for a book about the geopolitics of Putin’s Wars and that’s certainly here, attached to his fairly brisk accounts of each conflict, and when he summarises it, Galeotti is very good. But his accounts of the political background to each conflict, and even the wars themselves, take second place to his forensic analysis of Russian fighting forces and how they have changed and evolved since 1990.

Military biographies

As for the key political and military players, as the book trundled on I realised Galeotti was devoting quite a lot of time to them. All the key players in the 30-year period of the Russian army which he covers are given potted biographies. Putin is the most obvious one, along with sometime prime minister Dmitry Medvedev, but all the defence ministers, the key generals in each of the wars, and the leaders of the respective nationalist or independence uprisings, all are given a half-page potted biography (for example, the extended profile of key defence minister Sergei Shogai on pages 155 to 159).

Slowly this builds up into a sort of indirect social history, because all of them grew up in the ’60s, ’70s or ’80s, their life stories include snapshots of their lives and careers during the late Cold War, the Afghan War, the chaos of the Yeltsin years and so on. It isn’t a collective biography but, taken together, the many individual biographies begin to sketch out a network of real lives, and so start to give a feel for the institutional life of the last years of the Soviet Union.

The 1990s

For Russia the 1990s were a decade of chaos at home and humiliating conflicts abroad. The army almost fell apart amid the chaos following the end of the Soviet Union and economic collapse: stories of soldiers reduced to begging in the streets and even dying of malnutrition. In February 1991 the Warsaw Pact, which had been the West’s bogeyman since its inception in 1955, was formally disbanded.

Prime example of the chaos was how nationalist President Boris Yeltsin inherited a Duma packed with communists who blocked his every move, the standoff escalating to a crisis in October 1994 when pro-communist crowds seized TV channels and the Duma building, which prompted Yeltsin, on 4 October 1993, to send in the army who shelled their own parliament building, starting a fire which ended up gutting it. Like some chaotic Third World country.

Putin was manoeuvred into power by the KGB and other forces who wanted social and political stability after a decade of chaos under Yeltsin. As you’d expect, there are pages detailing Putin’s non-descript career, how he came over as loyal, reliable and dependable to a series of powerful men, until shadowy forces in the KGB and military helped broker the deal whereby Putin was nominated by Yeltsin to be his successor as president, on condition that he passed an act of immunity freeing Yeltsin from prosecution for his umpteen acts of corruption. Putin was made president in December 1999 and his first act was to pass this immunity law for drunk Boris.

All this Russian drunkenness, chaos and corruption is amusing to read about but the point that matters is that Putin came to power determined to restore Russia’s status as a superpower. He and his sponsors wanted to Make Russia Great Again (p.169).

‘Near abroad’

Putin wants to restore the territory lost to Russia when all the other Soviet states declared independence. Galeotti quotes a Russian defence minister in 1995 talking about ‘Near abroad’, meaning the countries and territories adjacent to Russia which it dominated for over a century through its Tsarist empire, and then bossed around through the Soviet era. It’s a well enough known phrase for Wikipedia to have an article on it, defining Russia’s ‘near abroad’ as ‘the post-Soviet states (other than Russia itself) which became independent after the dissolution of the Soviet Union.’

This concept overlaps with the nationalist notion of a Greater Russia which transcends modern borders to include all the old Tsarist territories. Both of them justify Russia interfering in, invading and taking control of their neighbours.

Reuniting the Russian people

During the Soviet Union entire populations were moved around the different republics with little concern for the consequences. It didn’t matter in the borderless USSR but it became very important when all the former Soviet Republics became independent states. At a stroke no fewer than 20 million Russians found themselves stuck in ‘foreign’ countries. To put it another way, all the countries bordering Russia contain Russian minorities, sometimes quite sizeable minorities.

The most obvious examples are the large Russian-speaking communities in the Crimea and in Eastern Ukraine which gave Putin the excuse for invading both of them in 2014 but there are also vocal Russian minorities in, for example, all three Balkan states. At any moment Putin might stir them into protests and then use these protests as a pretext for invading, pretty much as Hitler invaded the Sudetenland in 1938, to reunite its protesting Germans with the Fatherland. Which is why the leaders of the Baltic states are so worried.

So Putin 1) believes Russia has total command over its sphere of influence which can be defined as 2) Greater Russia, Russia at its greatest extent under the empire and also, maybe, the Soviet Union, and 3) wants to liberate these Russian communities now in foreign countries and reunite them with the Holy Motherland.

Russian irredentism

Yet another way of describing the same thing is the term Russian irredentism:

Russian irredentism refers to territorial claims made by the Russian Federation to regions that were historically part of the Russian Empire and the Soviet Union, which Russian nationalists regard as part of the ‘Russian world’. It seeks to create a Greater Russia by politically incorporating ethnic Russians and Russian speakers living in territories bordering Russia. This ideology has been significantly defined by the regime of Vladimir Putin, who has governed the country since 1999. It is linked to Russian neo-imperialism.

Insofar as all the old republics of the Soviet Union are now independent nation states, the Putin Doctrine represents a permanent threat to peace in Europe.

Comparison with Hitler

In many ways it’s like the situation of the German people after World War One. When the victorious Allies imposed the punitive Treaty of Versailles on defeated Germany they redrew the map of Europe so that no fewer than seven million Germans found themselves stuck in countries outside Germany. This was partly what Hitler was about with his popular promise to reunite all ethnic Germans in an expanded Fatherland. This, for example – its large German population – was why Hitler demanded the area known as the Sudetenland back from the state of Czechoslovakia, a nation which was only created by the Treaty of Versailles and which Hitler refused to recognise as a real country.

Putin is very close to Hitler’s way of thinking. He, Medvedev, foreign secretary Sergei Lavrov, members of his political party (United Russia), commentators and intellectuals, have all been lined up to claim that Ukraine simply isn’t a country, it has no claim to be a nation state. It was, is and always will be part of Greater Russia.

In his 2021 essay ‘On the Historical Unity of Russians and Ukrainians’, Putin referred to Russians, Ukrainians and Belarusians as ‘one people’ making up a triune Russian nation. He maintained that large parts of Ukraine are historical Russian lands and claimed there is ‘no historical basis’ for the ‘idea of Ukrainian people as a nation separate from the Russians’.

It would be one thing if this was just the view of a particular clique or party but in fact these nationalist, neo-imperial views are very popular across Russia. That’s the real worry. That even if Putin and his entire clique were vaporised it wouldn’t change the fundamental neo-imperial irredentist mindset of the entire Russian ruling class and a large part of its population. Russia is committed to being a source of instability and conflict in Eastern Europe for the foreseeable future…

Russian paranoia

To which we must add Russian paranoia. The whole premise of the Russian forces in all services, of Russian military doctrine, of the vast amount spent on arms and men, is that everyone wants to attack and destroy Russia. All Russian officials toe the Putin line that Russia is permanently under serious threat. Former head of the FSB, Nikolai Patrusheve, is on the record as saying the United States ‘would very much like Russia not to exist as a country’ (quoted p.312). As Galeotti puts it:

We can never underestimate the paranoias and resentments of Putin and his circle… (p.307)

Paranoia is defined on Wikipedia as:

an instinct or thought process that is believed to be heavily influenced by anxiety, suspicion, or fear, often to the point of delusion and irrationality. Paranoid thinking typically includes persecutory beliefs, or beliefs of conspiracy concerning a perceived threat towards oneself i.e. ‘Everyone is out to get me’.

If it’s a mental illness or psychiatric condition then the entire Russian military-political establishment is mentally ill.

Weakness of the Russian army

However, when he came to power Putin faced a simple challenge which was the army left to the Russian Federation after the collapse of the USSR was in very poor shape and this book is very largely about the efforts of his successive defence ministers, and hand-picked senior military staff, to reform and improve it.

Early on Galeotti mentions all kinds of reasons for the Russian army’s weakness. Obvious ones were chaos, mismanagement and universal corruption. The tradition of building a mass army of over a million using reluctant conscripts. The way the conscripts were signed up in two waves, in the spring and autumn, ensured lack of overlap and consistency. Galeotti also says the Russian army has a long-standing problem because it lacks the rank of non-commissioned officer that the British army has, the rank of men who’ve risen from private, command the trust of and speak the language of the ordinary soldiers, can convert officers’ orders into do-able actions.

Another problem was the Russian army has a centuries-old tradition of hazing, dedovshchina or ‘grandfathering’. Like everything Russian this is the legitimisation of brutal bullying designed to turn raw recruits into ‘men’. But, as well as regularly actually killing them, it of course does nothing of the sort, turns no-one into ‘men, it just brutalises them, preparing them to rape, pillage and torture whatever foreign population is unlucky enough to be occupied by them.

Then there was the vast problem of out-of-date equipment. Galeotti has passages throughout the book detailing the shortcomings of all kinds of Russian military kit, from tanks to body armour. The lack of reliable radios and communications led to friendly fire incidents in all the wars he describes. Half the Russian planes and helicopters shot down in the short Georgian war (7 to 12 August 2008) were shot down by their own side.

Hence the central thread which the book comes back to again and again, which was the efforts of successive defence ministers to reform the army, navy and air force at all levels, in all ways. Maybe the book should have been titled ‘The Reform of the Russian Army 1990 to 2022′.

Bad advice

I was amused that Yeltsin was encouraged to embark on the First Chechen War (11 December 1994 to 31 August 1996) by his advisers and Minister of Defence, who assured him they would take Grozny and pacify the country in a matter of weeks, that it would be a ‘bloodless blitzkrieg’ (p.56). The Russian attack began in November 1994 and was dogged by failure of every kind – ‘The plan was doomed from the start’.

Compare and contrast the over-optimistic advice given to George W. Bush about the invasion of Iraq, ‘they’ll be welcoming us with open arms and throwing flowers’ etc.

Compare and contrast Britain’s defence staff telling Tony Blair they could easily cope with policing Basra and sending troops to Helmand Province in Afghanistan, no problem.

Compare and contrast the Russian military establishment assuring Putin they could invade Ukraine, overthrow the government and elect a Russia-friendly administration within a week.

These military advisers, eh? Maybe the beginning of wisdom is never trust anything your military advisers tell you.

The First Chechen war (December 1994 to August 1996)

The First Chechen War was a disaster for the Russian army. It has been outsmarted and outfought, even losing cities to a ramshackle guerrilla army. All the inefficiencies, brutality and corruption of the army had been put on public display. (p.67)

The Second Chechen War (August 1999 to April 2000)

This time the Russians had a better plan and knew to advance slowly, pacifying and securing territory as they went, rather than the strategy in the first was which was to race to the capital Grozny leaving all the territory outside under the control of insurgents.

The Russo-Georgian War (August 2008 Russo-Georgian War)

The underwhelming performance of the military in Georgia… (p.88)

In 2008 when mighty Russia took on tiny Georgia, more than a quarter of all the armoured vehicles deployed simply broke down before they even reached the battlefield. (p.239)

It only lasted a week but, according to Galeotti, it was a war of blunders, including the bombing of abandoned airfields, officers lost to friendly fire and advances halted by broken-down vehicles (p.120). From his point of view – concerned with the issue of military reform – this little offensive was important because it gave Shogai and Putin the ammunition they needed to push through their sweeping reforms against resistance from the Army staff.

Annexing Crimea

Crimea had been part of the Russian empire for centuries and only (rashly) given by Nikita Khrushchev to the Ukraine Soviet Republic in 1954. So it was a prime example of the Greater Russia argument, the argument that, at the chaotic collapse of the Soviet Union, many territories which had for centuries been part of Russia were abruptly included in what were suddenly newly independent nations, often against the wishes of their Russian minorities.

Thus Ukrainians in western Ukraine were thrilled when their popular Euromaidan uprising led to the overthrow of Russia-leaning president Viktor Yanukovych and the establishment of a western-friendly government, but the large Russian minority in Crimea was genuinely scared, especially when the Kiev government indicated that they were going to remove Russian as an official language, remove Russian street signs etc. All this played into Putin’s master narrative:

In his 2021 essay ‘On the Historical Unity of Russians and Ukrainians’, Putin referred to Russians, Ukrainians and Belarusians as ‘one people’ making up a triune Russian nation. He maintained that large parts of Ukraine are historical Russian lands and claimed there is ‘no historical basis’ for the ‘idea of Ukrainian people as a nation separate from the Russians’.

Reading Galeotti’s account of the annexation of Crimea, what’s impressive was the lack of violence and Russian brutality. Russia infiltrated special units (Galeotti, of course, gives minute detail of just what units, led by which commanders, were deployed where) to all the key command points before the Ukraine high command had cottoned on to what was happening.

Crimea was an extraordinary military success. (p.178)

Local support

A key point is that a lot of Crimeans are ethnic Russians and genuinely welcomed the annexation. Putin organised a quick referendum and claimed 97% of the population approved the annexation (p.177). Do they think the rest of the world is stupid? Or are they so trapped inside their chauvinist box that they think Soviet-era electoral fictions are viable? Maybe both. They might as well have claimed 200% of the electorate wanted reunification with Russia. This kind of thing brings down derision and contempt on the Putin administration but they don’t see it.

And all along, as Galeotti points out, it isn’t necessary. If they had held a free and fair referendum, chances are the pro-Russian vote would still have won. But the Russian political elite has no concept of what democracy is and how to use it. The heirs to 250 years of Mongol khans and 400 years of tsars and 75 years of communist totalitarianism, the Russian elite literally knows no other way of ruling except via top-down diktats.

Comparison of Russian nationalism and Islamism

A key point, and a running thread through the book, is that in all these conflicts – Chechnya, Georgia, Moldova, Ukraine – the situation was made messy and confusing by the involvement of local militias. Chechnya is fascinating because some of the forces fighting the Russians were straight nationalists but, given the era and the proximity to Afghanistan, many of them were Islamic groups fighting for something else entirely, for the creation of an Islamic Caliphate in the Caucasus.

In a sense this kind of Islamic ideology and Russia’s chauvinism have a lot in common in that 1) they both inspire a kind of messianic intensity of belief and, 2) on a more practical level, that they don’t believe in borders. Greater Russia chauvinism flies free of accepted borders, borders are the enemy, keeping good Russians trapped in foreign countries created by an alien settlement somehow engineered by the perfidious West. Russia will only be great when these invalid nation states are swept away and the borders redrawn to include all true Russians in the genuine Greater Russia.

Identically the same with Islamist ideology, which believes all the borders and nation states of the Middle East were created by Western imperialists and the region will only be strong and pure when all believers are united in the restored caliphate, free of the trappings of the imperial West.

It’s a match made in heaven.

The role of militias in near Russian countries

To come back to the role of local militias, something which makes all the Russia wars feel very distinctive is that they were and are fought in places which are already riven by ethnic and tribal and cultural division. To read about Chechnya and Georgia is to be impressed by how fissile those ‘nations’ already were. The authorities in Georgia’s capital, Tbilisi, had only nominal control over the entire region of South Ossetia which was packed with pro-Russian separatists or, over to the west, on the Black sea coast, with the region of Abkhazia, ditto.

These are ‘countries’ which 1) already featured a large pro-Russian community and 2) were and are characterised by a high level of clan and tribal attachment which converts into tribal politicians, tribe-based mafias and, by an easy extension, clan-based militias.

The complicated role played by local militias in very clan-based, feuding societies is a central feature of all these conflicts.

Donbas and beyond

And continued in the Ukraine. For even as he was infiltrating his troops into Crimea for what proved to be a surprisingly bloodless annexation (February 2014), Putin was also encouraging local pro-Russian militias in eastern Ukraine.

The fascinating aspect of Galeotti’s account is how the conflict in the Donbas region of eastern Ukraine began spontaneously, with coalitions of independence politicians, activists, and rag-tag militias taking on the Ukrainian authorities. It certainly wasn’t a carefully planned operation like the annexation of Crimea, the opposite, and for some time the Kremlin didn’t know how to react. To begin with they began to siphon military hardware to the more successful pro-Russian militias, followed, after some months, by military advisers.

Galeotti says that in these early phases the aim was to warn the new pro-western regime in Kiev of the consequences of allying with the West, no more. However, as the Ukraine army got its act together and, working with pro-government militias, began to drive the pro-Russia forces East, the Kremlin had to decide whether to acquiesce in their defeat or escalate. They chose to escalate and sent in regular Russian troops, breaching the sovereignty of a European nation (p.187).

Galeotti describes the two ceasefire treaties, Minsk 1 and Minsk 2, their predictable failure, and the settling down of the problem into a permanent low-level conflict. It reminded me of some of the civil wars I’ve read about in Africa, contested borders, governments relying on local militias, all sides using exemplary violence i.e. carrying out atrocities on unarmed civilians designed to warn other villages and towns to surrender without a fight.

As 2014 turned into 2015 and 2016 the Ukrainians reformed and reinforced their army with a huge recruitment drive, better training, new kit. They drove the rebels back but could never win because whenever they looked close to victory, the Russians deployed a regiment to block them.

So the pattern was one of on-off ceasefires, trench warfare, sporadic local fighting, mutual sniping and shelling, and equally mutual recrimination, until 2022 when Putin decided that it was time to break the stalemate. (p.191)

Syria, the unexpected intervention

We in the West think the Arab Spring was a spontaneous uprising of oppressed peoples across the Middle East to overthrow their corrupt old rulers. See my review of:

From the paranoid perspective of the Kremlin, though, it looked a lot like the uprisings were the work of a West systematically getting rid of traditional Soviet allies (Gaddafi, Saddam, Bashar al-Assad). At the UN, Russia acquiesced in the West’s bombing of Libyan forces but felt betrayed when this led not to a ceasefire but to the overthrow of Gaddafi. All of this, of course, was in light of America’s overthrow of Saddam Hussein in 2003 which led not to a pleasant democracy but the collapse of the Iraqi state and chaos within and beyond its borders.

So Russia had at least three reasons for stepping in to prop up the Assad regime:

  1. the Assad family had been a friend and ally in the region: why not make him really indebted to you by saving his skin?
  2. as a message to America that Russia, too, could throw its weight around / be a regional force in the Middle East
  3. genuine concern that if Assad, too, fell, the whole Syria-Iraq strip of territory would fall to ISIS or other Islamist groups, which Russia has genuine cause to fear

Regarding ISIS, see my review of:

Regarding the international aspects of the Syrian civil war, see my review of:

The events of the Syrian civil war are complicated. But for Russia its intervention was surprisingly successful. It showed itself and the West that it could project its power significantly beyond its borders. It saved an old ally, thus bolstering its credibility. It served as a useful blooding ground for large parts of the Russian army, navy and air force, which were rotated through the theatre. It allowed the military to road test new technology, especially new drones, and to road test new doctrines and strategies for different situations and types of engagement.

It also marked the high point and maybe eclipse of the Wagner group of mercenaries, who were vital in holding the line during some attacks alongside the prone-to-run-away Syrian army, but also taught the Russian high command to keep them in their place.

Invasion of Ukraine

The 2022 invasion of Ukraine and the poor performance of Russia’s troops… (p.89)

Requires a post of its own…

List of post-Soviet conflicts Russia has been involved in

  • Transnistria war – November 1990 to July 1992
  • First Chechen war – December 1994 to August 1996
  • Tajikistan civil war – May 1992 to June 1997
  • Yugoslavia – 1992 to 1995 Russian forces were part of the UN peacekeeping force
  • Second Chechen War – August 1999 to April 2009
  • Russo-Georgian War – 7 to 12 August 2008
  • Russian forces joined international anti-pirate patrols off the coast of Somalia
  • Annexation of Crimea – February 2014
  • Start of Donbas war – February 2014
  • Syrian civil war – from 2015 Russian forces supported the Assad government
  • Second Nagorno-Karabakh War – 27 September to 10 November 2020 –Russia sent peacekeeping force in 2021
  • Invasion of Ukraine – 20 February 2014 to the present

Table of contents

For your information, here is a straight copy of the book’s table of contents, from which you can see its comprehensive scope and level of detail:

1. Before Putin

  1. Born in chaos
    • The Soviet Disunion
    • The August coup
    • Boris Yeltsin: the man without a plan
  2. A military in crisis
    • An army gone bad
    • Nukes for sale?
    • Bringing the boys back home
    • Empty dreams
    • ‘Pasha Mercedes’
  3. The first Chechen war
    • Resistance and resentment
    • High hopes, quick defeats
    • The plan
    • Taking Grozny…
    • … and losing Grozny again
  4. The wars of Russian assertion
    • Moldova’s post-Soviet hangover
    • Central Asia: the Tajikistan contingent
    • Balkan dash

2. Enter Putin

  1. Putin’s priorities
    • Who is Vladimir Putin?
    • Putin in charge
    • Putin’s ministers
  2. The second Chechen war
    • Round two
    • Retaking Grozny
    • Operation Wolf Hunt
    • The creation of ‘Kadyrovstan’
    • Lessons learned
  3. Ivanov, the Initiator
    • My name’s Ivanov, Sergei Ivanov
    • The spy and generals
    • Ivanov’s reforms
    • Size does matter
  4. Sedyukov, the Enforcer
    • Enter the taxman
    • Serdyukov’s purge
    • And enter Makarov
    • The Georgian excuse
  5. Georgia 2008: Tblisi’s move…
    • Harbingers
    • Provoking a war
    • The Georgian advance
    • The battle for Tskhinvali
    • The Russian advance
  6. Georgia 2008: …Moscow’s counter
    • The tide turns
    • The Abkhaz front
    • The audit
    • Did anything work well?
  7. ‘New Look’ army
    • Command and control: unified battle management
    • The ground forces: divisions to brigade
    • The air forces: rationalised
    • The navy: integrated at last
    • The airborne: survival

3. The New Cold War

  • Shoigu, the Rebuilder
    • Who is Sergei Shoigu?
    • ‘A servant to the tsar, a father to the soldiers’
    • General Gerasimov
    • Rearmament and recruitment
    • Ready for action
  • Crimea, 2014
    • Russia and Ukraine
    • ‘Returning Crimea to Russia’
    • Taking Crimea
    • Enter the ‘little green men’
    • ‘Crimea is ours’
    • An audit of the operation
  • Donbas, 2014-
    • Strelkov’s spark
    • A war of irregulars
    • The ‘Northern wind’
    • The fixing of the conflict
    • Stalemate
  • Lessons of the Donbas war
    • Command and control in a proxy war is hard
    • Information warfare is a powerful force multiplier
    • Implausible deniability has its place
    • Drones are the next big thing
  • Syria 2015 (1): the unexpected intervention
    • A long, bloody war
    • A friend in need
    • Heading to Hmeymin
    • Hmeymin’s hammer
    • Turning the tide
    • Victory of sorts
  • Syria 2015 (2); lessons of the Syrian campaign
    • Airpower is not (usually) enough
    • Mercenaries have their place, but need to know it
    • Brutality can work, but hearts and minds matter, too
    • Frenemies can find themselves in battle
    • A nice little war is good for business

4. Rearming Russia

  1. Rumble for ruble
    • When comparisons fail
    • ‘Let us starve, but let us export’
    • The metal-eaters
    • Buyer beware
    • Modernising the military
  2. Armiya Rossii
    • The battalion tactical group
    • The return of the division
    • Heavy metal
    • Specialised forces for specialised operations
    • Logistics
    • Capabilities
  3. The sky is Russia’s!
    • Always in transition
    • The aerospace forces
    • Defence of the motherland
    • Fist of the motherland
    • Heavy lift
    • Drones
  4. Contesting the sea
    • Never a naval power
    • Rusted, rebuilt
    • Organisation
  5. Power projection: blue and black berets
    • ‘Nobody but us’
    • By parachute, plane or track
    • The black berets
    • ‘Black Devils’
    • ‘Where we are, there is victory!’
    • Underwater sentinels
  6. The Spetsnaz
    • Special people, for special tasks
    • Tip of the spear
    • Putin’s Spetsnaz
    • The special operations command
  7. The nuclear backstop
    • Post-Soviet armageddon
    • Rail, road and tube
    • Under the waves
    • Strategic aviation
    • Modernisation and magic
    • Why nukes matter so much [they bolster Russia’s sense of itself as still a superpower]

5. The Future

  1. Political warfare
    • The rise of the spooks
    • Hybrid, ambiguous, non-linear, political
    • Outsourced warfighters [the Wagner group]
    • Information warfare
  2. New generation warfare
    • Small wars
    • Limited deployments
    • Big wars
    • Escalation, de-escalation and lesser apocalypses
  3. The challenges of the future
    • The Western flank
    • … And the turbulent South Caucasus, too
    • Central Asia: instability and jihad
    • China, the great frenemy
  4. Ukraine 2022: Putin’s last war?
    • Not the generals’ war
    • A police action, not a war
    • From Kyiv to the Donbas
    • How hubris destroyed a military
    • Deadlock
  5. Conclusions: the Eurasian Sparta?
    • A nation under arms?
    • The military myth
    • The security state?
    • A weak hand played well
    • After Putin?
  6. Ukraine 2023: a dispatch on a war in progress
    • The paradox of reform
    • War Putinism
    • The mutiny
    • The war in Russia
    • The imagination race
    • Prospects

General conclusions

The whole spectacle confirms my strong feeling that human beings simply cannot govern themselves. The naive expect humanity to take some kind of concerted action against climate change. Really? With people like this in charge?

Are modern wars doomed to failure?

Are modern wars winnable? When was the last time either Russia or America actually won a war?

For the Russians – Afghanistan, Chechnya, Georgia, Yugoslavia, Syria, Ukraine.

For the Americans – Vietnam, Afghanistan, Iraq.

Russian lies

I watched the BBC TV series ‘Putin and the West’ in which French president Francoise Hollande and British Prime Minister David Cameron baldly stated that Putin is a liar. Hollande said not only is Putin a liar but his entire approach to diplomacy is to lie, his strategy is based on lying about everything.

The Russians even lie when the lie is so blatant and absurd it damages their own cause. Galeotti’s book contains some nice examples. In 1993 during the Georgian war the Russians broke a ceasefire agreement by bombing Sukhumi while it was still held by Georgian forces.

Russian defence minister Grachyov responded with the implausible and widely derided claim that these were Georgian aircraft painted with Russian colours, bombing their own positions as a provocation. (p.122)

In moments like that you can see how lying is such second nature to the Russian establishment that it can’t see how stupid and ridiculous it makes them look to the outside world. This was captured in a recent press event in Delhi where Russian foreign minister Lavrov claimed the Ukraine war started when Ukraine attacked Russia and went on to claim that Russia was trying to halt this unfortunate war.

This is Göbbels-level lying which is so absurd that it makes you worry about the sanity of the Russian leadership. Putin ordered the military invasion of Ukraine but, having read Galeotti’s book it’s easy to think that Putin and his circle genuinely believe that they invaded the territory of a neighbouring country because they genuinely see Ukraine’s defection to the West as a kind of attack on Russia, on Russia’s idea of itself, on the Russian nationalist belief that Ukraine and Belarus aren’t independent nations at all. They felt culturally, psychologically and strategically ‘attacked’ and so sincerely believe that the military invasion was a justified response to the Ukraine government’s insult and threat to Russian hegemony.

At moments like this you can see how the Russian elite inhabits a different mindset, in effect a different reality, from the rest of the world, utterly blinded by their Greater Russia nationalism and prepared to do anything to protect it.

But there is, of course, an alternative interpretation, which is that a lot of these lies uttered in public fora are for domestic consumption. Edited by Russia’s totally cowed and quiescent media, they can then be broadcast on the nightly news, with the laughter track removed and roars of applause edited in.

Yes, it’s important to remember that the Russian government lies to everyone including its own people, and that if anyone finds out the truth and starts broadcasting it they are quickly locked up or pushed out a window or die of mystery poison. But then being lied to by your government is another venerable old Russian tradition. This isn’t my prejudice, it is a factual point Galeotti makes over and over again:

Russians have decades’ or even centuries’ experience of being lied to by their governments, especially regarding wars… (p.375)

The Russian bearhug

There’s a hoary old proverb about Mexico, ‘Poor Mexico! So far from God, so close to the United States!’ How much more true this is of every nation which borders Russia today. China, Mongolia and Kazakhstan probably needn’t be too worried, too big, nothing to steal.

But poor Georgia, Belarus, Latvia, Estonia and Finland – the Putin Doctrine, the concepts of Greater Russia, near abroad, Russian irredentism, Russian neo-imperialism, Russian nationalism – all these variations on the same theme mean the leaders and peoples of those countries must be permanently anxious about whether Russia will attack and invade them next.

It’s unlikely, seeing as most of the Russian army’s resources are deployed to – and being consumed in – Ukraine. But in planning for the future, the next five, ten years, should they be factoring in invasion by Russia?

Thank God there’s the whole length of Europe between my country and the resentful, angry, permanently aggrieved Russian bear.

War with China?

Although I’ve spent my entire life worrying about a nuclear war, subjected to movies and novels and documentaries about the horror of a nuclear war with the USSR or Russia, and although Putin and his mouthpieces go on and on about the threat from ‘the West’, Galeotti disarmingly says Russia is never going to face the threat of an invasion by NATO. Do you think the people of Belgium or Italy or Austria would ever want to attack Russia? Why? Let its people stew in the repressive authoritarian culture which they seem to love and recreate in every generation.

Galeotti argues that the real threat is China. The majority and the best Russian armed and air forces are concentrated in the west of the country, all on high alert for the mythical invasion by Holland and Denmark and Lithuania which is never going to come. But what about the vast area of Siberia?

Galeotti explains that during the imperial nineteenth century Russia seized large bits of territory from China. In principle these borders were re-agreed by a treaty of 2008, but what if China wants them back? Russia’s border with China is 4,000 kilometres long and very thinly protected (p.339).

The relationship between China and Russia is set to become more asymmetrical with China increasingly becoming the economic master and Russia the vassal. Deprived of trade with the West because of Ukraine sanctions, Russia is increasingly forced to sell its oil and gas to China which is aware of its partner’s weakness. What if China’s demands for unequal trade deals slowly, steadily increase? And apparently there has been growing concern in the FSB, some of it expressed publicly, at the growth of Chinese cyber activity against Russia, spying and hacking. And what about China’s growing influence in the five vast ‘stan’ countries to Russia’s south, Kazakhstan, Kyrgyzstan, Tajikistan, Turkmenistan, and Uzbekistan, where Chinese promises of investment and cash prove more attractive than Moscow’s penniless bullying? Likelihood is all these tensions will slowly ratchet up, the direction of travel is one way, with Russia contracting before an ever-growing China…

All of Russia east of the Urals is serviced by just two enormous train lines both of which could be easily ruptured and then none of its western forces could be redeployed. Any incursion could not be contained by forces which can’t reach the battlefield and so it is here, out East, that any escalation to battlefield nuclear weapons and beyond is most likely, or least unlikely. Discuss.

Over-optimistic?

The paperback edition of the book has a final chapter written in August 2023 covering the war in Ukraine up to that date and moving onto political conclusions. Galeotti’s account of the war (as of all the other wars he covers) is brisk and very readable, it’s his broader conclusions I question.

Writing in 2022, Galeotti pulls together a raft of evidence to suggest the war has been a disaster for Putin and Russia, it’s the end of the Russian army, public opinion is turning against him, draft dodging is up, there have been firebombing of draft offices, social media is awash with soldiers bitterly complaining about being used as cannon fodder, strongly implying that the president’s days are numbered and throwing in the old canard about him being ill, cancer, some immune disease etc.

It starts out sensible and maybe each of the strands are true, but life isn’t that sweet. There is no justice. Russia is an autocratic nation, ruled for its entire history by lying dictators. It’s not being pessimistic, it’s being coldly realistic, to assume that this will never change.


Credit

‘Putin’s Wars: from Chechnya to Ukraine’ by Mark Galeotti was published by Osprey Publishing in 2022.

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Do Not Disturb: The Story of a Political Murder and an African Regime Gone Bad by Michela Wrong (2021)

‘Paul Kagame is without doubt the most ruthless politician operating in Africa today.’
(US Ambassador to Uganda, Johnnie Carson, quoted on page 321)

‘The entire country is a spying machine.’
(exiled Rwandan economist David Himbara, quoted on page 422)

This is a major, comprehensive and blistering attack on a contemporary African regime.

In a nutshell, the West and the international community for many years regarded the Tutsi-dominated Rwandan Patriotic Front (RPF) as heroes for invading Rwanda and bringing to a halt the 1994 genocide of Tutsis being carried out by the psychopathic Rwandan government dominated by advocates of the extremist Hutu Power ideology.

Not only that, but the RPF and its leading figure – tall, ascetic intellectual Paul Kagame – were also praised for going on to invade eastern Congo where they 1) sorted out the problem of the massive refugee camps holding over 2 million Rwandans refugees where the Hutu genocidalists were regrouping, and then 2) pressing this invasion on to the capital of Congo, Kinshasa, where they overthrew the rotten old dictator, Mobutu Sese Seko in 1997.

In the years that followed the West, the UN and the international community fell over themselves to lavish aid on Rwanda and fête its intense, driven president, Kagame, who presided over a peaceful multi-ethnic government and promoted his intention of turning Rwanda into a highly educated, high-tech economy, ‘the Singapore of Africa’.

For many years Financial Times and Reuters journalist Michela Wrong went along with this version of events and this highly favourable view of Kagame, ignoring the rumours and scattered reports which threw doubt on this image. Now she realises she was completely wrong. She has completely changed her tune.

This book is a comprehensive rubbishing of the historical record of Rwandan Patriotic Front (the political wing), the Rwandan Patriotic Army (the military wing) and President Kagame himself. It’s what Sun editor Kelvin Mackenzie used to call a monstering, an exhaustive, scathing demolition of all the RPF’s claims; an indictment of its behaviour before, during and after the genocide; and a terrifying depiction of a paranoid, controlling, vindictive and murderous regime, which is still in power, still holding its population in a climate of fear, and extending the threat of assassination to exiles and dissidents around the world. Here are the key points.

Wrong’s indictment

The 1990 RPF invasion of Rwanda was naive and destructive. Having contributed up to a quarter of the rebel army which brought Marxist leader Yoweri Museveni to power in neighbouring Uganda in 1985, long-term Tutsi emigrants from Rwanda and children of the refugees from anti-Tutsi pogroms conceived the idea of invading Rwanda and reclaiming their heritage.

This was a mistake. The Rwanda they wanted to return to, the ones their parents told them about, no longer existed. Instead, the invasion revived all the paranoid fears of the Hutu majority (Hutus make up 85%, Tutsis 14% of Rwanda’s population) that these violent invaders wanted to return Rwanda to the bad old days when a Tutsi monarchy and aristocracy lorded it over a subjugated Hutu peasantry. This paranoia was egged on by media outlets including Radio Télévision Libre des Milles Collines which was to play such a key role during the actual genocide (p.228).

The conventional view is that the Tutsi exiles just wanted to reclaim their heritage. The revisionist view is that the RPF invasion wasn’t about reclaiming anything, they wanted to seize absolute power, which is why the invasion marked the start of a four-year civil war, throwing the entire country into a state of crisis and edginess.

In other words, far from invading to stop the genocide in 1994, the RPF invasion in 1990 created the hysterical paranoid environment in which the genocide could take place.

The RPF made lots of mistakes from the start. First off was something which remains a mystery to this day, which is the unexplained death of their most charismatic leader, Fred Rwigyema. Wrong considers the two main versions of his death, plus the numerous minor variations, in great detail, but doesn’t come to a definite conclusion (pages 207 to 213). A few weeks later two other RPF leaders, Peter Bayingana and Chris Bunyenyezi, were dead.

These unexplained deaths paved the way for the rise of Paul Kagame. Kagame was out of the country at the time, undertaking, of all things, a training course at Fort Leavenworth in the USA, so he is generally exonerated of these unexplained deaths, but they were very convenient, as was his swift elevation to strategic leader on his hurried return to the rebels base.

Anyway, these deaths were indicative of the failure of the RPF’s initial incursion into Rwanda. Not only did they meet stiff resistance from the Rwandan army but were dismayed to discover how much the ordinary Hutu peasants feared and disliked them.

The conventional story is that Kagame was a military genius who led the battered remnants of the RPF into the remote Virunga mountains where they regrouped and studied guerrilla tactics. Wrong’s debunking version is that most of these decisions were taken by people lower in command and that Kagame’s main contribution, then as right through to the present day, was to instil a regime of fear.

Ugandan journalist Sheila Kawamara, a frequent visitor to Mulindi (RPF headquarters), registered the staff changes taking place. ‘We heard about a policy of extermination of all the officers who had supported Fred. When you were with them you could sense this climate of fear. Those who were more ruthless rose through the ranks at that stage.’ (p.229)

Wrong goes out of her way to quote contemporaries, former members of the RPF, eye witnesses, who one and all testify that Kagame was a controlling, spiteful, sadistic man who used terror to control all around him.

In the revisionist version the holed-up-in-the-mountains phase is transformed from a glamorous Che Guevara idyll into a death camp where hundreds of new recruits would be taken off and killed in the middle of the night for the slightest reasons, sometimes simply because they spoke French which the Anglophone Ugandan Tutsis suspected. Wrong dwells on the way the kafuni or common farmer’s hoe was the weapon of choice used to kill suspects and undesirables.

When the RPF did come down out of the mountains in 1991 and fought their way through north Rwanda to within 50k of the capital, Kigali, it was not only the official Rwandan army they fought but many of the Hutu peasants whose land they passed through. Upset to discover the peasants didn’t welcome them with open arms, the Tutsi RPF got used to massacring entire Hutu villages if it was convenient. The accounts of massacres are disputed but no-one disputes that Hutu peasants retreated before the advancing PDF forces. Eventually as many as 950,000 people were uprooted by the RPF invasion and turned into internal refugees, 15% of the population (p.230).

The RPF’s advance, the civil war as a whole, was suspended by the Arusha Accords of August 1993 which gave the RPF representation in a new national government.

Then Wrong makes her biggest accusation, which is that it was the Kagame-led RPF, and not Hutu Power extremists in his own government, who shot down the plane carrying Hutu president Juvénal Habyarimana. This was the trigger for the genocide which followed and which commended within minutes of news of the plane crash.

The shooting down of the plane carrying the Hutu president was the trigger for the start of the genocide so it’s always been a deeply contested event. It’s the ‘Who Shot JFK?’ of Central Africa. Amid hundreds of theories, three main ones:

  1. White men did it, either Belgians, French or Americans. But why?
  2. Conventional explanation: Hutu Power hardliners within the government did it because they feared Habyarimana was giving too much away by signing the Arusha Accords, and had the extermination plans ready to go.
  3. Revisionist explanation: the RPF did it because they knew the elections demanded by the Arusha Accords would consolidate Habyarimana’s government in power, whereas chaos and confusion would allow them to continue their military conquest and seize power.

As you’d expect, Wrong leans heavily towards theory 3, assembling a raft of evidence but, more to her style, numerous interviewees who all claimed the RPF and Kagame planned it. Western investigators charged the RPF with it throughout the 2000s, for example in 2006 a French judge accused Kagame and his allies of then shooting down. Then in 2011 a leading RPF exile, Theogene Rudasingwa, from 2000 to 2004 Chief of Staff to Kagame, posted a frank admission of the RPF’s guilt on Facebook (p.375). In 2012 another former RPF top gun, General Kayumba, went public with the accusation. In 2013 ex-RPF intelligence officer Jean-Marie Micombero joined the chorus (p.376). In 2014 the BBC broadcast a documentary, Rwanda’s Untold Story, which contained the accusation.

So, again, Wrong’s pressing of RPF guilt is not exactly new, and nowhere does Wrong find a smoking gun. Like the controversy around JFK it will rumble on forever.

There’s no doubt that Hutu Power ideologues had a fully worked-out plan for exterminating the country’s Tutsi population in its entirety, and were responsible for passing orders and instructions for mass murder down through the chain of command to the remotest parishes. But Wrong’s accusation is that:

  1. the RPF invasion created the unstable, feverish atmosphere in which many, maybe most of the Hutu population felt threatened by a Tutsi takeover
  2. and that the RPF was responsible for downing the plane and so triggering the genocide

The conventional view is that the plane shooting and the abrupt start of the genocide triggered the RPF to restart their paused invasion and that they swept through the country in order to stop the genocide. Wrong counters that the actual route of the RPF was calculated not on the basis of saving Tutsi lives but purely with a view to securing power (p.242). The notion that the RPF heroically intervened to stop the genocide is treated as a joke by one of the RPF’s own diplomats (p.350).

The conventional view is that the RPF established law and order wherever they went and protected what Hutus remained, like the conquering allied forces established law and order in 1945. The revisionist view is that on the contrary, wherever they went the RPF massacred Hutu communities but that these massacres went unrecorded or unreported in the context of the wider holocaust.

The conventional view is that the RPF begged for outside help. The revisionist view is that when the UN discussed reinforcing its small demoralised force in Kigali the RPF objected, repeatedly claiming that all the Tutsis were dead and the genocide over. This was because they knew a major UN intervention would end up preserving the existing Hutu regime, albeit with new leadership, whereas the RPF was set on securing complete military control. In other words, senior RPF figures were prepared to let the killing go on and tens of thousands more Tutsis to die, if it meant securing power (p.243).

The conventional view is that once the RPF had secured control of the entire country, Kagame then established an enlightened government of national unity in Kigali, ensuring key posts went to Hutus to ensure balance and trust. The revisionist view is this was the case for a very limited period, 12 months at most, into 1995, before these Hutu ministers started being sacked or forced to quit, in all instances replaced not just by Tutsis but by Tutsis loyal to Kagame personally (p.251).

The conventional view is that this enlightened RPF government then begged the international community and the UN to do something about the Hutu genocidalists who had taken refuge in the huge Hutu refugee camps just across the border in eastern Congo, repeatedly asked the West to intervene but, eventually, being goaded beyond endurance by Hutu militias crossing the border and carrying out little village massacres, reluctantly invaded into eastern Congo, killing the genocidalists and shepherding the 2 million or so Hutu refugees back into their own country.

The revisionist view is that the RPF planned to invade Congo all along.

The revisionist view is that, in the process, the RPF themselves carried out numerous massacres of Hutu civilians, men, women and children. In fact some scholars estimate the total number killed at 300,000, well on the way to matching the 800,000 killed in the genocide.

The conventional view is that the RPF wanted the Hutu refugees to return to Rwanda and to their abandoned properties, guaranteeing them safety if they did so. The revisionist view is that in the meantime tens of thousands of Tutsi exiles returned to the country and seized vacant Hutu properties, farms and houses, urban businesses, thus feeding into the Hutu narratives of conquest and grievance (pages 260, 270, 285).

The conventional view is that the genocide was a one-off event with a datable beginning and ending (7 April to 15 July 1994). The revisionist view is that the genocide was just a kind of wild upsurge in an environment where ethnic killing had been going on as far back as the overthrow of the Tutsi monarchy in 1959, with the most recent surge starting not in April 1994 but with the initial invasion of the RPF in October 1990.

‘The troubles between Hutus and Tutsis didn’t start in 1994. The genocide was part of a process which began much much earlier.’ (Robert Higiro, quoted on p.269)

And continuing long after. The conventional view is that the RPF brought peace. The revisionist view is that massacres within Rwanda, and then in Congo, continued on after the genocide.

Wrong details important evidence suggesting an RPF policy of systematic violence and intimidation which carried on after the genocide, but which was hushed up or downplayed at the time:

  • the Gersony Report (pages 269 to 271)
  • the Kibeho massacre (p.273)

The conventional view is that the RPF pursuit of genocidalists who fled west slowly, reluctantly changed a temporary incursion into eastern Congo into a campaign to carry on west as far as the capital, Kinshasa, and overthrow rotten old Mobutu, installing a nice new democratic regime, much to the applause of the west.

The revisionist view is that the RPF invasion of Congo 1) continued to be marked by RPF massacres, now not only of defenceless Hutus but often of Congo civilians too, 2) overthrowing Mobutu had always been the core aim of Kagame (and his ally, Uganda’s Museveni). Gérard Prunier calls it the first imperialist invasion by one African country of another, a sentiment echoed here by Polish journalist, Hrvoje Hranski:

‘They were colonisers, pure and simple, but we were sympathetic.’ (quoted page 301)

On this reading it was not just an incursion to stabilise a border region but a deliberate attempt to establish colonial control over an entire country, to take over Congo via Kagame and Museveni’s puppet ruler, Laurent-Désiré Kabila. Wrong quotes her hero Patrick Karegeya as saying:

‘We weren’t looking for a rebel leader. We just needed someone to make the whole operation look Congolese.’ (p.297)

The RPF atrocities inside Rwanda were difficult to document in the chaos of the genocide, but there were many more witnesses to their behaviour in Congo. In 2010 the UN brought out a 550-page report which ‘detailed 617 separate incidents in which Hutu refugees were bludgeoned, macheted, bayoneted, shot or burned to death’ (p.300).

By 1998 Mobutu was overthrown, Kabila was installed as puppet ruler of Congo, the Hutu refugee camps had been emptied, and the prolonged security crisis was over. In February Kagame was elected RPF chairman, to go alongside his posts of Minister for War and Vice President.

The RPF regime claimed that relations only deteriorated with Kabila when he began reaching out to remnants of the Hutu regime and the Interahamwe. The revisionist view is that relations deteriorated when Kabila began ruling for himself and kicked his Rwandan advisers out of Congo. It was then that Rwanda and Uganda began planning a second invasion and only then that Kabila reached out to the genocidalists as a desperate resort.

In April 2000 Kagame arrived at the acme of power, being elected president (p.319). The Rwanda-Uganda alliance completely collapsed and the two armies fought a vicious urban battle in Kisingani. Kabila made the mistake of abandoning his child warriors, even ordering them to shoot fallen comrades. Thus it was an aggrieved former child soldier, Rashidi Kasereka, who shot him at point blank range in the presidential palace. Later, Wrong claims that Patrick freely admitted that Rwandan intelligence were behind the assassination (p.323).

By the time the Ugandans and Rwandans fell out, many of the journalists who’d been sympathetic to the RFP had fallen out of love with them. What had started as an attempt to hunt down the genocidalists had turned into a naked grab of land and resources. Wrong gives a fascinating account of Rwanda and Uganda’s blatant looting of Congo’s resources and then moving to the ‘active extraction’ phase i.e. controlling the mines, the extraction and export of precious minerals (p.328).

It was a great revelation and shock to the regime’s western supporters when a UN report revealed that this systematic looting and theft was carried out by a Rwandan state body called the Congo Desk (p.329). And guess who was in charge of the Congo Desk? The Zelig of central Africa, Patrick Karegeya.

When it was set up the RPF devised a solemn oath of loyalty which all members had to sear. By the end of the Second Congo War, this had mutated into a mafia with its oath of Omertà i.e., you talk, you die (p.331).

After the war

Kagame has been able to string along and play the international community and western donors (chief amongst whom is the UK) for several reasons:

  • the conventional view is that Kagame is a visionary New African Leader, committed to democracy and developing Rwanda into a modern, high education, hi-tech nation, ‘the Singapore of Africa’
  • western guilt about not doing enough to prevent the genocide, particularly afflicted Bill Clinton and Tony Blair

Clinton later delivered fulsome apologies for America’s failure to act quickly enough or acknowledge the killings amounted to a genocide.

The revisionist view is that throughout the post-genocide period and right up to the present day, Kagame, far from being a western-style democrat and visionary, was establishing a terrifying surveillance dictatorship.

Precisely how he did that is revealed by the central thread of the book, the life, career and murder of Colonel Patrick Karegeya.

Patrick Karegeya as central theme

This summary gives the impression that the book is a logical or chronological account of the historical events but it isn’t, at least not to start with. The first hundred pages are something completely different.

Wrong opens her narrative, and thereafter uses as a repeated reference point, the murder of Patrick Karegeya, former head of external intelligence in the RPF regime and, at one time, a key member of Kagame’s close-knit RPF elite. The idea is that Karegeya was murdered because he had become a critic, and then an outspoken critic, of Kagame and, in 2010, helped set up an alternative Rwandan political party, the Rwanda National Congress (RNC).

Karegeya was murdered on New Year’s Eve 2013 in a room at the Michelangelo Hotel in the Johannesberg suburb of Sandton. But Wrong doesn’t just give an extended description and forensic analysis of the days and weeks leading up to the murder, then of the crime scene and the probable cause of events. Three things:

1. Wrong interviews everyone who ever knew Patrick Karegeya – his wife, his mother, his children, his friends from school days, his colleagues in the RPF, and those who joined him in exile and set up the RNC. And not once, but repeatedly.* Their eye witness accounts of Karegeya’s life and personality and career are quoted very liberally on every page. In fact we learn that Wrong met and got friendly with and interviewed Karegeya on numerous occasions from 1994 till his death. There’s so much about him that the first hundred pages or so of this book amount to almost a biography of the man, but also, there’s so many memories of him at home with his family, at bars laughing and chatting, so many of which are Wrong’s own memories, that at many points it feels like a personal tribute.

This would probably be my main criticism of the book. What with the tearful testimony of his loving wife, his adoring daughters, his admiring colleagues and the often gushing testimony of lots of other journalists who met and liked Karageya, quite regularly the book is in danger of turning into a hagiography. I was struck when she described a 5-page personal statement he wrote out for his daughter’s application for US citizenship as ‘precious’ (p.304). What, like the Turin Shroud or the Rosetta Stone? The tone of voice often verges on the gushing:

  • Someone with a bigger ego might have staged a sustained sulk. Not Patrick. (p.352)
  • And so, mulish, steadfast, defiant, Patrick served out his sentence [in prison] (p.361)

When Patrick is reduced to shaking rage by a journalist accusing the RPF of shooting down Habyarimana’s plane, his anger is explained away because he is under pressure to nobble the International Criminal Tribunal for Rwanda (p.369). When a journalist jokily asked why Kagame won the 2003 election with ‘only’ 95% of the vote and Patrick threatens to have a journalist killed next time he visits Rwanda, this is excused as a joke (p.348)

But the man was a killer. He was head of RPF intelligence all through the 1990 invasion and civil war, through the genocide. He was paid to deceive journalists and the international community about the RPF’s own massacres and their ulterior motives in invading Congo, paid to lie to the world’s press about the failed attempt to capture Congo with Rwandan troops flown into the Kitona airport near Kinshasa (p.312). He continued to justify the regime even as he knew it was committing mass murder, charming and schmoozing foreign journalists while more and more RPF comrades were assassinated, fled the country or were thrown in prison.

He was ‘implicated up to the hilt’ (p.342). He was a highly paid part of the killing machine, and was rewarded with a big house, lots of cars, a jetsetting lifestyle, plasma TV when they were an unheard-of luxury, his kids sent to private school in South Africa or America, his wife forgiving him his multiple sexual partners (‘all part of the job’), liked for his high-living and charm by even the most sceptical journalists. So while we read another tearful tribute from his loving wife, my criticism of the book would be that Wrong lets Karegeya off very lightly and regularly risks sentimentalising him.

2. Anyway, amid the great sea of blood which was 1990s Rwanda, why such extravagant focus on just one man, when well over a million men, women and children died in terror or misery as a direct result of the actions of the government of which he was a key member and which he assiduously defended for so long?

Because Wrong uses her super-detailed profile of Karegeya as a tool, as a way into exploring the world of fear and paranoia which political exiles from the Kagame regime work under. And once this is established, Karegeya’s entire career becomes a scaffold or structure on which to hang a historical account of the RPF, going right back to its roots in the Rwandan Tutsi emigre or refugee communities in Uganda in the 1980s.

Rhus, in Wrong’s hands, Patrick emerges as a kind of Zelig figure, popping up at all the right places. He was the lynchpin middle-man between Kagame’s government and all manner of outsiders, whether journalists or NGOs or UN leaders, or heads of intelligence from neighbouring countries. He played a key role in the First Congo War, accompanying the clumsy tactless Kabila everywhere, acting as his press and PR supervisor, the central liaison between Kabila and Kagame, as well as liaising with all the governments in the coalition which had invaded Congo (p.301).

3. It dawned on me that ‘Patrick’, as he is referred to pretty quickly and then throughout, has another key advantage for a journalist like Wrong. People were prepared to talk about him. Half way through the book it dawned on me that Patrick’s story gives Wrong far more access to events than if she had chosen the more conventional route of writing a biography of Kagame. Kagame doesn’t talk, his friends and family don’t talk, lots of people interviewed, even the ones who worked closely with him, said they never really knew what was going on in his head. By contrast, Patrick was famously outgoing, chatty, had hundreds of friends and acquaintances, all of whom were happy to go on the record for this book. Their collective memories and anecdotes are far more free and effective at building up a kind of collage history of the RPF then any attempt at a biography at the notoriously tight-lipped Kagame could ever have been.

In other words, the more the book progresses, the more you realise what a clever strategic move it was to make Patrick the star and use him to shed light on the entire regime and Rwandan history from the 1980s right up to the present day.

After the Second Congo War drew to an ignominious close in 2002, Wrong’s narrative reverts, for the book’s last 100 pages, to the approach of the first hundred i.e. using a detailed look at Patrick’s career, his growing misgivings, how he was sidelined by Kagame, with extensive quotes from friends, family, colleagues, journalists and commentators, to shed light on Kagame’s growing paranoia and vindictiveness, and the slow enmeshment of the regime in more and more assassinations, scandals and accusations.

* Interviewees

In fact the book is jam packed with interviewees, its main feature, as a text, is the number of quotes on every page. Wrong must have put in what feels like thousands of hours of interviewing and annotating, then careful selection and ordering of hundreds and hundreds of quotes. At one point Wrong lists the types of people she interviewed for this book, which extends far beyond the friends and family of Patrick Karegeya. She lists: ‘serving and dissident members of the RPF, Rwandan and western journalists, diplomats, intelligence officers and military attachés’ (p.341).

Mossad assassination technique

Karegeya not only defected from the RPF but, in exile, set up the RCN. The implication of the whole book is that this kind of thing is not permitted by the tightly-controlled and vengeful Kagame regime, so he was targeted and assassinated using methods perfected by the Israeli security service, Mossad.

What is this Mossad assassination technique? Have your target approached by someone they know and trust, in this case a friend of the family. Make appointment for drinks and a chat in their hotel room. Let in two strangers, one of whom holds everyone up at gunpoint, while the other injects the target with a quick-acting tranquiliser. Then one assassin holds a pillow or towel over the target’s face, while the other strangles him with rope. The point of all this is it is completely silent, causing no fuss or attention. Then quietly leave the room, careful to leave a ‘Do not disturb’ sign on the door, check out of your own hotel, drive to the nearest airport, and be far away by the time anyone realises anything is wrong (p.29).

Do not disturb. The book is named after the sign the killers hung on Karebeya’s hotel door. But is also a wider indictment of the wish of western donors, the international community and Rwanda’s supporters, even up to the present day, not to rock the boat, not to reveal uncomfortable truths, not to ask difficult questions, not to disturb.

One among many state-sponsored murders

General Kayumba Nyamwasa

Wrong gives a similarly detailed account of the attempted assassination of former General Kayumba Nyamwasa. Nyamwasa had been Chief of Staff of the Rwandan Army as well as head of Rwandan intelligence from 1998 to 2002 i.e. during the Second Congo War. He became increasingly critical of Kagame’s authoritarianism until he fled into exile in South Africa. Wrong describes the bungled attempt to shoot him in his car on 19 June 2010. This attack crystallised the General’s decision to join with Karagey and others to found the opposition Rwanda National Congress in December 2010 (p.69).

Seth Sendashonga

Wrong devotes an entire chapter to the career of moderate Hutu Seth Sendashonga, recruited into the RPF government with lots of promises of reconciliation, then witnessing the Tutsis takeover of everything, the scales falling from his eyes with the notorious massacre of unarmed Hutus at the Kibeho refugee camp. Soon afterwards he quit the government, then left Rwanda, going into exile. Two years later he was shot dead by assassins (p.277).

No other nation in Central or East Africa has witnessed an exodus of former insiders to rival Rwanda’s and their flight speaks volumes for an entire political class’s understanding of the regime’s capacity for violence. (p.277)

Other examples

  • Rwandan diplomat Alphonse Mbayire was recalled to Kigali and a month later a soldier with a grudge shot him twenty times
  • David Kiwanuka’s body was found in a car trunk in Nairobi, shot in the head (p.280)
  • Assiel Kabera, President Bizimungu’s adviser, assassinated (p.318)

Wikipedia:

She gives more examples and details of Rwanda’s policy of overseas assassination (p.432). Many more  opponents simply fled, becoming exiles like Patrick. The general name for the several escape routes from the country was ‘taking the subway‘ (p.318).

Wrong has two long sections devoted to detailed description of two separate assassination conspiracies where the middlemen hired to cosy up to the targets in preparation for hits admitted to the targets what was going on. This resulted in the targets taping the numerous phone calls from the minders back in Kigali to their agents in the field. Wrong explains the setups, introduces the characters, and quotes from the incriminating tapes, which in both cases were handed over to the local police as well as key western embassies, the FBI and so on (pages 395 to 401).

These cases amount to powerful evidence that the Kagame regime operates extensive assassination projects and teams to eliminate dissident and ex-RPF officials.

Buyer’s remorse

This book, then, is a case of buyer’s remorse, or an example of a western liberal fan of a third world political party, government and its leader, slowly coming to realise she’s been had.

The enthusiastic support of the West, and especially Western journalists, for an underdog rebel militia with a noble cause fighting a brutal stronger power reminds me of the decade I spent watching BBC and ITV journalists on location with the mujahideen in the remote mountains of Afghanistan, singing the praises of these plucky Davids fighting the Soviet Goliath. Only after the Soviets left and the country collapsed into a ruinous civil war from whose ashes arose the Taliban did those western journalists reconsider their decade of enthusiastic support for Islamic extremists.

Wrong has form here because her book about Eritrea’s long war for independence describes how western journalists such as herself were entranced by the commitment of the rebel Eritrean Liberation Front (ELF), young zealots who built an entire town in mountain caves, had daily education and self-criticism sessions in the best Maoist fashion.

Wrong says these western journalists wrote glowing accounts and counted themselves as ‘true believers’ in the cause. But, as so often happens, when the ELF zealots finally won independence and came to power, the intensity of their commitment and the harsh judgement of anyone in any way questioning the Party morphed into the paranoid dictatorship of ELF leader, Isaias Afwerki. Afwerki has been president of Eritrea for thirty years, during which he has turned it into one of the most repressive one-party states in the world, and all those ‘true believers’ and western supporters from back in the 80s…not so vocal now…

The moral of the story? It’s easy to be persuaded that one side in a foreign war, particularly if they’re the cool rebel underdogs, is standing up for justice and freedom, young and inspiring in their commitment and readiness to make the ultimate sacrifice etc. Wrong herself describes this psychological tendency as ‘the storyteller’s need to identify Good Guys and Bad Guys’ (p.299), the tendency I’ve ascribed to the influence of Hollywood movies on American foreign policy, especially in Afghanistan and Iraq.

But wars are never simple. War is always brutal. All sides in a war are compromised. The Good Guys-Bad Guys dichotomy comes from the Second World War when the Nazis unambiguously were Very Bad Guys. But most wars since haven’t had the same moral clarity. In general there are no Good Guys, just less absolutely appalling guys. That kind of childish moral simplicity has to be left behind in order to engage with the horrible, cynical complexities of the real world. The moral of the story is – don’t take sides in foreign wars. Gaza-Israel.

Disillusion with the RPF regime is not new

Disillusion may be new to Wrong but not to many other commentators.

  • In 2008 the Economist questioned received opinion about Kagame.
  • In 2010 the UN brought out a 550-page report which ‘detailed 617 separate incidents in which Hutu refugees were bludgeoned, macheted, bayoneted, shot or burned to death’ by the RPF (p.300).
  • A 2011 article by Human Rights Watch lays out the case against Kagame.
  • A 2012 article in the Guardian observed that America was having second thoughts about supporting the Kagame regime and predicted that Britain would, too.

The HRW article gives the tone of the revisionist, critical point of view. The author is phoned by a journalist enquiring into the UK’s ongoing support of the RPF regime in Rwanda, ‘a fragile country ruled by fear’:

We began by talking about the 2010 elections, in which President Paul Kagame was re-elected with 93% of the vote after three opposition parties had been excluded from the race; one opposition leader had been imprisoned; another opposition party member and an independent journalist were murdered; and a prominent government opponent narrowly escaped assassination in exile.

(Wrong describes the sinister and farcical events surrounding the same election on pages 67 to 68).

In other words, Wrong’s book isn’t a drastically new and stunning revision. Specialist reports and general opinion (of the specialists who care about the subject) have been heading in this direction for 15 years or more. What Wrong’s book does is pull together all the evidence, rewrite the history in the most damning way possible and, above all, use hundreds and hundreds of quotes from eye witnesses, from interviewees who were in at the formation of the RPF, of its successes in Uganda, its 1990 invasion, its role during and after the genocide, candid interviews with people who’ve worked closely with Paul Kagame and the regime’s other leading figures – to build up into an extraordinarily powerful, thorough and blistering indictment.

In the last hundred pages the comparison Wrong keeps reaching for is Stalin, a megalomaniac who spent all his time scheming, playing subordinates off against each other, organising random arrests, holding show trials, issuing random periods of imprisonment to anyone he even suspected of holding independent opinions, then demanding complete obeisance, ritual humiliation (pages 343 (Beria) and 356).

By the end of the book the reader is left thinking that Paul Kagame is the devil in human form:

The ultimate class freak has created a state in his own image: introverted, suspicious, unaccountable and a prey to sudden violence. (p.418)

The last few chapters

The last few chapters address more recent events:

Chapter 18: Do not disturb

Explains in detail why ‘the West’, ‘the international community’ and foreign donors continue to support and donate generously to Rwanda, despite the mountain of evidence about its wicked ways. 1) Residual guilt, even after all these years, about letting the genocide happen. 2) Generalised guilt of Western governments that the terrible plight of Africa continues to stem from the European colonial era (p.383).

Above all 3) the Kagame regime has brought peace and stability to Rwanda, and its defenders, such as former DFID minister Andrew Mitchell, emphasise that this is the first requirement of any government and so how, in that part of the world, it is to be supported (compare and contrast South Sudan’s recent collapse into ruinous civil war).

On many of the metrics used by western governments and international institutions, the Kagame regime has been a remarkable success, notching up unprecedented economic growth lifting one million Rwandans out of poverty between 2008 and 2011, improvements in metrics in public health and education, support for gender issues (for example, in 2010 64% of Parliamentary MPs were women) and so on.

Diplomatically speaking, Kagame has successfully positioned himself as maybe Africa’s most high profile statesman. In 2014 Kigali hosted the African Development Bank’s annual general meeting. In 2016 the World Economic Forum chose it for an ‘African Davos’. The 2022 Commonwealth Heads of Government Meeting (CHOGM) was held in Kigali.

So the continued support of western donors is explained by the way they focus on these positive achievements. And so the World Bank has invested more than $4 billion in Rwanda since the genocide (p.430) and the British government has given the Rwandans £200 million without, so far, sending a single refugee there.

Chapter 19: Song of the stool pigeon

The chapter explaining the setups, introduces the characters, and quotes from the incriminating tape recordings made of senior figures in Rwandan intelligence recruiting then managing Rwandan emigres into assassinating outspoken critics in exile (pages 395 to 401). And the disappointing lack of response from western agencies and governments when presented with this evidence.

Chapter 20: The inquest

The long delay of the South African authorities in carrying out a proper investigation of or inquest on Patrick’s murder, the implication being they were leaned on by Rwanda. Progress only came when the case was taken up by campaigning lawyer Gerrie Nel of not-for-profit AfriForum leading to an inquest in 2019. Complex machinations amid which the South African state prosecutor justifies the decision not to prosecute those suspected of murdering Patrick because of the ties that exist between them and the Kigali regime (p.412). In August a verdict of death by strangulation i.e. murder, was returned.

The lost leader

The critics, obviously, say that all the achievements catalogued in chapter 18 (if they’re even true) could just as well have been achieved without the creation of a Stalin-level surveillance state and climate of fear based on arbitrary arrests, imprisonment and murder of political opponents.

You can see why so many of them still mourn the unexplained death of charismatic, caring Fred Rwigyema right back in 1990, the ‘lost leader’ that so many weave legends around. Wrong ends her book with a visit to her hero, Patrick’s, grave, but the very last paragraphs are a hymn to beautiful, innocent Fred, inexplicably dead before the civil war let alone the genocide took place, the lost leader so many dissident Rwandans mourn.

But that was 33 years ago, and we are where we are.

Thoughts

I know I should care about the minutiae of every one of the killings and assassinations, the tape recordings, precisely which RPF heavweight was implicated in which massacres or killings, but after a while it’s difficult to follow all the details. The overall impression is of a dazzling, long, immensely researched revelation of the RPF’s corruption and brutality.

But, when you put it like that, corruption and brutality, it sounds uncannily like most of the other African regimes I’ve been reading about for the last few years. Which African nation in the 60 years since independence has not had at least one murderous dictator, at least one civil war, elements of pogrom and massacre?

That’s a fairly trite thought but it leads onto a more interesting one which is how, stepping back, you can see how the uniqueness of the Rwandan genocide has dazzled many commentators and politicians into thinking Rwanda stands outside history, a special and unique case.

Wrong highlights (as does Prunier and other commentators) how lingering guilt about their inactivity during the genocide has led international bodies and western nations to give Kagame the benefit of the doubt despite the, by now, tsunami of evidence about the regime’s malfeasance.

Not unlike Israel, the Rwandan government has used the unspeakably horrific crime at the centre of its modern history to overawe commentators and silence critics (Wrong makes this point numerous times), to obscure the more everyday oppressions and dubious policies which are the stuff of most governments.

But considering the Rwandan genocide as a somehow one-off, unique, unparalleled and inexplicable mystery – as writers at the time like Fergal Keane and Philip Gourevitch did – removes it from history, erases the troubled history which led up to it; which, of course, explains it; and the continuum of  wars and further atrocities which has followed on from it. Focusing solely on the genocide in effect helps prop up a dictator and a terrifyingly repressive regime.

Overpopulation

A leitmotiv of the narrative is how packed, cramped and overpopulated Rwanda was and still is (pages 238, 293, 417). Wrong claims it was and is Africa’s most crowded country (p.239, 280). In an economy based on agriculture you either own enough land to make a living farming or you don’t. Every inch of fertile land is staked out and assigned so, in order to acquire more land you must dispossess someone else.

Decades of land shortage have reduced agriculture to a grim battle for survival. (p.417)

If you learn of an invasion by the enemy tribe that is driving people like you off the land, then your natural reaction will be to fear for yourself, your land, your family and, if ordered by the government and the local authorities, be prepared to kill in order to protect your own.

I wonder if, in a way, the overpopulation of Rwanda and the demented, pest-control killing of the genocide is an allegory of our species – or maybe a vision of its future, packed like rats into a limited space, driven by mounting crises into hysterical psychopathy, the mass murder of our neighbours, quickly, before they murder us.

Day after day I read in the liberal press hand-wringing articles about the apparently unstoppable rise of authoritarian regimes around the world (China, Russia, India, Brazil) and right-wing anti-immigrant parties across Europe (in Germany, Italy, France, Holland).

Liberal commentators are at a loss to explain these phenomena but I wonder if there’s a simple explanation. There are too many of us, us humans, and we are turning against ourselves like rats in dungeon.


Credit

Do Not Disturb: The Story of a Political Murder and an African Regime Gone Bad by Michela Wrong was published in March 2021 by Fourth Estate. References are to the 2022 4th Estate paperback edition.

Recent Rwanda news

Michela Wrong reviews

African reviews

Blood River: A Journey To Africa’s Broken Heart by Tim Butcher (2007)

I walked inside [the former Belgian restaurant in the Congo town of Kalemie] to find a wreck. A wooden bar ran along one wall and a Congolese lady stood behind it.
‘Do you have anything I could drink?’
‘No.’
‘Do you have anything I could eat?’
‘No.’
(Blood River: A Journey To Africa’s Broken Heart, page 103)

In the 1960s it was in Maniema that thirteen Italian airmen of the United Nations were killed and eaten, their body parts smoked and made available at local markets for weeks after the slaughter.
(Blood River: A Journey To Africa’s Broken Heart, p.134)

The Congo river system is potentially one of the most valuable assets in all of Africa, but in recent years it has been choked to a standstill by war and mismanagement.
(Blood River: A Journey To Africa’s Broken Heart, p.295)

As the lurid title suggests, Butcher is a journalist, not a historian or scholar. He was appointed Africa correspondent of the Daily Telegraph in 2000 and this book is a colourful description of his self-appointed task of repeating Henry Morton Stanley’s famous expedition across central Africa, from Kalemie on Lake Tanganyika, across country for 500 kilometres until he hit the River Congo, and then 3,000 or so kilometres down Africa’s second longest river, right down to the sea, beyond Boma – a journey he undertook in August 2004 (just as the Athens Olympics were about to start, p.322).

Limited use as a reference

Early on, Butcher inadvertently indicates the limits of his journalistic style or knowledge or interest or research, when he knocks off a description of the Rwanda genocide and how it unravelled into the two Congo Wars, which themselves degenerated into the Great War of Africa, in a mere two pages (13 to 14).

As it happens I’ve read about six book-length or chapter-length accounts of the Rwandan genocide and the wars which followed, all of which go into vastly more detail about this complicated and terrible sequence of events, and so I flinched a bit at the superficiality and, in my opinion, errors in Butcher’s brief summary. He has an interviewee say that Mobutu ‘invited’ ‘the Hutu gunmen’, the interahamwe, to flee into Zaire. He writes that ‘the Tutsi-dominated Rwandan government’ then sent troops to support Laurent Kabila’s insurgency (p.13).

This is not only very simplified but, in my opinion, actively misleading. It wasn’t just the interahamwe that fled into Zaire but the entire Hutu government and administration which had planned and carried out the appalling genocide of the Tutsi minority. Justifiably terrified of being captured and punished for their crimes, the Hutu administration terrified millions of Hutus into thinking the invading Tutsi-dominated Rwandan Patriotic Front would take revenge on them for the genocide, and so it turned into a mass exodus of a large part (about a quarter) of Rwanda’s population across the border into Congo.

It’s true that Mobutu had a long-standing close relationship with the Hutu leadership of Rwanda, but he didn’t ‘invite’ the fleeing génocidaires nor their million peasant compatriots into his country, they just crossed the border and presented Mobutu with a crisis (and an opportunity).

Butcher skips any explanation of the pre-existing civil war in Rwanda which was the context for the genocide and helps to explain it. Nowhere in the book does he mention the Rwandan Patriotic Front (RPF), or its leader and still the current president of Rwanda, Paul Kagame, or the key role the RPF played in ending the genocide when the entire international community (the UN, Britain, America, France) was standing by and letting it happen (to our eternal shame).

He nowhere explains that the Hutu génocidaires established an iron control of the vast refugee camps just inside the Zaire border and used them as bases to launch attacks against Tutsi villages inside Rwanda, continuing the genocide on a small scale while marshalling their resources to launch a re-invasion with the aim of completing the job of exterminating all the Tutsis.

He nowhere explains that the new Rwandan government of national unity repeatedly complained about the Hutu exiles to the Congo government of Mobutu, and begged the UN and international partners to step in and stop the raids and to rein in the Hutu génocidaires but that, once again, the international community did nothing.

He doesn’t explain that this was why, after a year of putting up with this destabilising presence on its western border, the RPF-backed Rwanda government decided to do something about it: to send its army into the Congo, dismantle the refugee camps, force the Hutu population to return to their country with promise of safe passage and that they would be unpunished if they just returned to their villages, while at the same time chasing the genocidal Hutu leaders and their mass-murdering militia, the interahamwe, deeper into Congo with the aim of killing them and putting an end to their genocidal plans once and for all.

He doesn’t explain how Kigali found a willing partner in the government of Uganda, which contributed its own forces, and suggested they use as a fig leaf and front man for their invasion, the drunken, womanising guerrilla leader Laurent-Désiré Kabila, who had been ‘fighting’ a small-scale insurgency against the Mobutu regime for 30 years and who they now put at the head of a new rebel force concocted for the purpose (the Alliance of Democratic Forces for the Liberation of Congo). Nor that the initial operation was so successful that Rwanda and Uganda decided to send their forces on right across Congo to the capital, Kinshasa, forcing the ageing ailing dictator Mobutu to flee the country (May 1996) and  installing their puppet, Kabila, as new president of Congo.

Butcher’s narrative gives the rough shape of these events but is, on my reading of the sources, wrong in most of its details, for example claiming that Rwanda and Uganda ‘backed’ a pre-existing military campaign by Kabila rather than Kabila being a convenient front man for an armed group invented for the purpose to cover an invasion entirely planned and led by Uganda-Rwanda.

It was when Kabila, safely established in power as the new president of Congo in 1997, began attacking his own Rwandan and Ugandan backers, ordering their troops to leave the capital, refusing to obey their orders any more, that Uganda and Rwanda, infuriated that their puppet had turned against them, mounted a second invasion, in 1998, to overthrow him.

This is why people refer to two Congo wars. The First Congo War, from 1996 to 1997 was the Rwanda-Uganda invasion to a) empty the Hutu refugee camps and b) overthrow Mobutu. The Second Congo War started in 1998 and was Rwanda-Uganda’s attempt to overthrow Kabila and impose a regime more friendly to them. It was this second invasion which got seriously bogged down because many of Congo’s neighbouring countries sent forces to support either the Kabila government or to ally with Uganda-Rwanda. Generally the alliances were influenced by deals to get their hands on Congo’s mineral resources. Thus Zimbabwe’s Robert Mugabe supported Kabila in exchange for access to minerals in Congo’s south-east, and so units of the Zimbabwean army found themselves fighting units from other nations in the tropical jungles of Congo, an expensive and bewildering waste of men and resources which distanced the Zimbabwe army from the regime (as described in Douglas Rogers’s account of the coup which eventually overthrew Mugabe).

This second conflict unravelled as not only forces from ten or so neighbouring countries got involved, but as regional warlords arose and seized control of different parts of the huge country. This is the complicated, multi-party conflict which is sometimes referred to as the Great War of Africa. Theoretically it ended with a peace treaty in 2003 but, on the ground, much violence continued in the form of roving bands of ‘soldiers’ or warlord-led militias, who emerged from the jungle, massacred villages, terrorised towns, looted all the food, raped all the women, murdered the men, then disappeared back into the jungle.

This, then, was the deeply insecure and scary environment in which Butcher planned to stage his recreation of Henry Morton Stanley’s epic journey down the Congo river. In the event, although he hears many rumours of roving warbands, although he hears from inhabitants of towns and villages of past attacks, and although he and his travelling companions race past small guard posts, he never in fact meets or has any encounters with any of the terrifying army, militia or tribal warriors.

I’ve summarised the events of the Congo wars in such detail because they are the vital backdrop to Butcher’s adventure, and because he refers to them again and again throughout the book, but mostly in what I regard as a misleadingly simplistic way. In particular I went from being puzzled to feeling a bit disturbed by his complete omission of the context of the genocide (i.e. the Rwandan civil war) and its cause (a deliberate policy of mass extermination in the name of Hutu Power), by his systematic downplaying of the genocide itself, by his complete omission of the name of the key organisation in both the civil war, the ending of the genocide, and the Congo wars i.e. the Rwandan Patriotic Front, and his preference for using the phrase ‘the Tutsi-dominated’ Rwandan government. The repeated use of this phrase cumulatively gives the impression that the source of all the disruption and violence in the region was the RPF-backed government in Kigali.

Now it is definitely true that the two Rwanda-Uganda invasions of Congo, first to overthrow Mobutu, and then to overthrow Kabila, massively destabilised the whole centre of Africa. But you have to understand that the RPF’s aim was to dismantle the Hutu regime which had just carried out the worst genocide of modern times, and then to overthrow the génocidaires’ main supporter, Mobutu, and install a government which would ensure that such a genocide never took place again. Unless you grasp that underlying motive for their actions you make it seem as if the Tutsi government was the unmotivated source of the disorder in the region. It certainly evolved into that situation, especially once all Congo’s neighbours piled in, but that wasn’t their initial motive.

The general thrust of Butcher’s account is correct and he repeats the outline of events several more times throughout the book, but almost all the fine details and the deeper background, which would help you make more sense of these tumultuous events, are either wrong or just missing.

In particular I found Butcher’s underplaying of the genocide (he mentions it but never dwells on what a truly horrific and regionally seismic event it was), his casting of the Hutus as helpless victims, and his continual nudging references to the violence across the region being caused by the ‘Tutsis-dominated’ government in Kigali, build up into a misleadingly incomplete and worryingly biased account of events. A casual reading of the book would lead you to believe that the Tutsis are the bad guys in the story and behind all the violence.

What I’ve just written is based on the following sources:

And, of course, Wikipedia:

But the same goes for Butcher’s versions of earlier events. On pages 58 to 59 he gives a brisk summary of the murder of Congo’s first president, Patrice Lumumba, which is heavy on gruesome detail (the acid used to dissolve the corpse) but very light indeed on the complex international and domestic crises Lumumba found himself facing and made considerably worse by his own troubled character and his chaotic and rash decisions, alienating the Americans who found him impossible to work with, then inviting the Soviet Union to send armed forces to help him put down secessionist movements, which alarmed all the Western powers, the Americans and the UN.

Again, Butcher’s account isn’t wrong, as far as it goes, but by focusing narrowly on Lumumba’s murder and heavily blaming the colonial power, the Belgians (Belgian army officers helped kidnap Lumumba then fly him to a remote part of the country, were present when he was badly beaten, then shot dead and buried in a shallow grave) Butcher’s account omits the six months of hectic crises which preceded it, and Lumumba’s role in exacerbating it.

He gives no sense of how Lumumba’s difficult character worsened the crises and, eventually, led everyone concerned (including many of his own ministers and his army) to believe that Congo would be better off with him out of the way and replaced by someone more stable and predictable.

I’m not defending these events. I’m just pointing out that Butcher’s zippy two-page account, focusing (like a thriller) on the gruesome events of the murder itself, omits the complexity of the context and so militates against a proper understanding.

For all these reasons I would actively advise against reading this book as any kind of authoritative source for the geopolitics of the region and the period. For that, the best place to start would be the outstanding ‘Congo: The Epic History of a People’ by David Van Reybrouck (2010).

Chaps in Africa

So, having established Butcher as a poor source of historical description or analysis, I was, in a sense, freed up to read the book for what it really is: a boy’s own adventure story, a ripping yarn, a white man’s tale of derring-do in the heart of Africa etc.

The ripping yarn tone of the story explains the praise on the cover from an impressive list of white, public school-educated, male Africa hands who recognise one of their own. These include: Alexander McCall Smith, Giles Foden, John le Carré and William Boyd. Boyd is quoted as saying: ‘The day of the intrepid traveller is not over’, which can be translated as: ‘White chaps can still have ripping adventures in the jungle’, a slice of cheery public school optimism which, once you’ve actually read the book with its bleak descriptions of super violence, social collapse and cannibalism, you might come to regard as pretty inappropriate.

Look at me, I’m woke

Butcher is at pains to stay on the right side of the reviewers and modern woke opinion by lambasting the wicked colonialists who exploited Africa during the wicked colonial period (the evils of wicked colonialism are described or referred to scores and scores of time) with a vehemence typical of a certain sort of middle-aged, middle-class, literary white man.

But I found the same is true of his dogged insistence on the evils of colonialism as of his references to the origins of the Congo wars, namely he’s not wrong, but, after a while, you start to realise he’s not describing the issue in its full complexity. He is, after all, a journalist, and so he’s writing in catchy headlines and peppy phrases.

For example, in several places he elides the truly evil, wicked, genocidal regime of the disgusting King Leopold in the 1880s and 1890s with the much more benign rule of the Belgian colonialists after the Second World War. OK, maybe they still had the same racist, white supremacist beliefs, but, as his actual narrative makes abundantly clear, they no longer massacred entire villages and cut people’s hands off; instead the post-war colonial regime built airports and railways and roads, and ports and docks, and ran mines and plantations and businesses and, above all, maintained the peace, creating the basis of a potentially prosperous country. Eliding the two eras and their policies into one thing struck me as morally dubious but also historically and politically misleading.

At one point, in a typically jeering throwaway remark, Butcher says it was one of Belgium’s most notable blunders that they didn’t train up a cohort of educated native politicians and administrators to take over the running of the country when they left. This sounds fine but it’s really a cheap shot because the Belgian colonial authorities, just like the French and British ones, thought they would be running Africa for decades to come and so had plenty of time to create an infrastructure and slowly train up the indigenes.

None of them anticipated the sudden rush for independence which was triggered by the independence of Ghana (in 1957). In particular none of them anticipated a key factor, which I’ve highlighted in my reviews of, for example, Martin Meredith’s bleakly hilarious book, ‘The State of Africa: A History of the Continent Since Independence’, which was that, once negotiations started, the African nationalist parties tried to outdo each other in demanding independence, soon, sooner, NOW!

With the result that the fiery nationalists at the conference called to discuss the future of the Belgian Congo demanded they be given independence within three months of the conference ending. Many commentators at the time thought this was wildly rash but they were, of course, all denounced as racist imperialists.

Ronan Bennett’s novel The Catastrophist is set against the backdrop of the crisis of 1960 and gives a lot of  factual detail about the lead-up to Lumumba’s murder. Some of the secondary characters who the impeccably liberal protagonist meets at cocktail parties etc point out that the Africans are nowhere near being able to run a country, that handing over rule to them will lead to massacres, white flight and the collapse of the country into civil war and…they are treated as racist bigots, disliked by the woke hero, ignored by the politicians. Trouble is, those racist bigots turned out to be 100% correct and then some. Rushed independence turned out to be an unmitigated disaster for the people of the Congo.

White privilege

Butcher takes every possible opportunity to slag off the wicked Belgian colonialists, but he is considerably less attuned to the way that he, a middle-class, well-connected white westerner, with thousands of dollars stashed in his kit, along with zippy technology (laptop and satellite phone) and possessor of tiptop connections to government authorities, numerous non-governmental organisations (NGOs) and the press (his employer, The Telegraph newspaper) is only able to undertake the journey because of his (relative) wealth, his white privilege and his western privilege.

Quite a few times he walks into the offices of bureaucrats or confronts African officials who are notably more respectful of him than of their fellow Africans who they’ve just been bullying, simply because he is a white man. The entire journey is only possible because he is, by Congo standards, rich, because he has thousands of dollars stashed in his clothes and so is able to pay Africans hard cash to drive him through the jungle, canoe him down the river, and generally bribe his way out of trouble.

That William Boyd quote could more accurately be rewritten as: ‘The day of the intrepid [western white male] traveller [with lots of cash and connections] is not over’.

In the footsteps of Stanley

Butcher’s entire expedition is an attempt to recreate Henry Morton Stanley’s great expedition across country to, and then down, the mighty Congo River, in which he was accompanied by three white companions and over 300 African porters, and which took three long gruelling years, from 1874 to 1877.

As you might expect, this inevitably entails several summaries of Stanley’s biography and character, of the great expedition (pages 44 to 49), and Stanley’s narrative (and illustrations) are referenced throughout the book, in particular whenever Butcher arrives at a place which Stanley first visited, or a town he in fact founded (for example, the settlement of Stanleyville which he founded at the end of the series of treacherous rapids which he modestly named, the Stanley Falls). Inevitably, Butcher also references Stanley’s central role in opening up central Africa for the murderous genocidal regime of the truly evil King Leopold of Belgium.

But again, I found Butcher’s account good as far as it went, but it never goes much beyond the stereotype of the wicked, brutal racist Victorian explorer. Butcher takes the standard journalistic view that Stanley was a wicked, violent, racist who treated his hundreds of native porters with appalling brutality and didn’t hesitate to open fire on tribespeople who got in his way. All the subtlety and complexity about the man and his achievements to be found in the (obviously much longer) biographies like that of Tim Jeal (2007) are simply absent. Jeal doesn’t gloss over Stanley’s brutality, but places him in the context of his time, compares him with other explorers, and explains the challenges he faced, from the treacherous Arab slave traders who dominated the region, to the often violent and sometimes cannibal tribes Stanley had to deal with.

I’m not in the slightest exonerating Stanley: the work he went on to do for King Leopold, systematically swindling scores of tribal leaders out of their ancestral lands by making them sign contract with Leopold which they obviously didn’t understand and had no legal validity, was obviously wicked and inexcusable. I’m just saying that, as with the Congo wars and Lumumba’s murder, Butcher’s journalistic summaries of Stanley gloss over the far more complex, more fascinating and therefore more useful facts.

Butcher’s mum

The blurb, the preface and much of the text all emphasise that Butcher is setting out to recreate Stanley’s epic voyage of explanation down the Congo – but on pages 8 to 11 we learn of a much more homely, domestic motive for his trip. His mother did it.

Butcher’s mum was a jolly hockey sticks daughter of the empire who, aged 21 in 1958, was packed off to southern Africa, with a friend, as a sort of finishing school. She travelled from Cape Town to Salisbury (modern Harare in Zimbabwe). It was the very end of the colonial era and so all the countries she travelled through – South Africa, Rhodesia – were still run by white colonial administrations, and so there was law and order and a good travel infrastructure: planes and trains and ferries ran on time and regularly.

This applied just as much to the 1958 Belgian Congo which the two young gells crossed as the final part of their journey. Leopoldville was the hub of one of Africa’s largest airline and the Congo’s chief port, Matadi, was served by a fleet of ocean liners. Everything – trains, planes, ferries – worked like clockwork , staffed by polite porters and obliging stewards – and so Butcher’s mother, when he used to question her, had little or no memory of it.

Now, 45 or so years later (2004), the countries she travelled through have collapsed into dictatorship (Zimbabwe) or chaos (Congo), most of the infrastructure of the latter having collapsed and disappeared back into the jungle (railway lines and railway sleepers long ago dismantled and sold for scrap or burned as firewood; stations derelict; docks abandoned, as in a dystopian sci fi movie).

Butcher’s mum kept brochures and posters and timetables from her trip which Butcher describes poring over lovingly as a boy and young man. And so Butcher’s adventure has this second level, not only retracing the steps of the man who ‘discovered’, mapped, named and revealed central Africa to western readers in the 1870s and 80s – but at the same time moving through the surreal ruins of what had once been the thriving and efficient colonial infrastructure remembered by his mum and recorded in the various brochures and timetables she kept, circa 1958 (plus other 1950s documents and guides he acquired in preparation for his trip).

So: two sets of ghosts, and that’s just the white ghosts. Obviously Butcher discovers, once he enters the country, that he is also moving among spirits of all the African tribes who lived and died, fought and were enslaved, and, more recently, burned and looted, their way through the same terrain. (See Ryszard Kapuściński’s excellent book, The Shadow of The Sun, for extended descriptions of how belief in the spirits of the dead continue to saturate African culture.)

So Butcher’s trip is alive with resonances and echoes.

Kalemie

Butcher starts his journey in the port of Kalemie on the west bank of Lake Tanganyika, which is where Stanley arrived with his huge expedition of over 300 porters, after having crossed country from Zanzibar and then crossed the lake from east to west. Instead Butcher kicks off his journey by flying there, direct from South Africa. I thought this was a slightly odd decision. To fully recreate the Stanley expedition he ought to have travelled overland from the Tanzanian coast to Lake Tanganyika, as Stanley did. It would have been interesting to have his description of modern-day Zanzibar and Tanzania, and would have maybe provided a useful contrast between one African country and another.

So anyway, Butcher flies direct to Kalemie on the western, Congo, side of Lake Tanganyika and it’s here that, after quite a few digressions about Stanley, his mum, the contacts he has drummed up in preparation for the trip, and the briefings he’s had, that he finally gets the journey started.

Kalemie straightaway provides a good example of the decline and decay all of Congo has fallen into, after 32 years of Mobutu’s systematic looting of his own country, zero investment and appalling corrupt local administration, followed by seven years (1997 to the time of his visit, 2004) of increasingly chaotic and widespread conflict. From a distance it looks like a modern town but once he’s landed and looks more closely:

What I had taken to be an estate of factories, damaged in the recent war in the Congo, turned out to be a ruin dating from a much earlier age. Faded advertisements could just be made out on the walls…Grass grew long and untroubled through the railway sleepers on the approaches to the disused station…An old railway carriage…stood rusting in the tropical heat. In one of the compartments someone had made a small cooking fire on the floor, now surrounded by various dirty pots…Instead of a functioning high street what I found was a dusty space filled by gaggles of meandering locals…Of the buildings themselves there was little beyond the fronts. Rust had not just coloured the roofs but eaten out huge holes through which tropical rain had flooded for countless rainy seasons…Pipes that once brought mains water to each building lay broken and there was not one working lightbulb…Without cobalt or diamonds or gold to draw outsiders’ interest here, Kelamie had been hollowed out by the years. Where there had once been a substantial settlement, nothing but the husk remained. (pages 85 to 85)

And this in ‘one of the biggest towns in the Congo’, a town with no state radio or TV, no newspaper, no landline phones and no internet, no petrol stations or cars, where the 1950s airport the Belgians built has become a bullet-riddled ruin (p.88).

This is what decades of neglect, lack of investment, lack of law and lack of local government produce, in a place ‘run by’ officials and administrators who do nothing but loot and steal and demand bribes for every transaction, a place where the state fails to provide either teachers or doctors or police (p.105). A key word or theme or image which threads through the text is ‘ruin’, along with its cousins, ‘derelict’, ‘wreck’, ‘decline’, ‘decay’ and ‘abandoned’.

Going backwards

Butcher hires some guys to take him by motorbike (two bikes and their owners for security’s sake, and because they know the route) inland from Kalemie. The key fact to grasp is that there are no roads any more, let alone railways. In the 1950s guides and the memory of his mother (and other accounts from the 1950s, which he cites) the major cities and many of the towns were connected by good asphalt roads which the Belgians built. Every single one of these has disappeared and been swallowed back into the jungle. Several times he comes across vehicles buried under decades of tropical foliage and realises that the narrow track through the jungle where he’s standing was, 50 years previously, an open, asphalt highway busy with cars and lorries. Now all gone, disappeared.

Similarly, Congo’s main cities were joined by railway lines and all of these have disappeared. In some cases the metal rails have been removed along with the sleepers and all that’s left is a track worn flat by the trudging of African feet. In town after town he comes across derelict, abandoned railway stations. In one particularly vivid moment he’s struggling through thick tropical forest, the sky blocked out by interlocking trees swaying high above him, dense foliage pressing right up against the narrow path he’s pushing his motorbike through when his boot clunks against something metallic. When he squats down and scrapes away at the thick soil and undergrowth at his feet he is stunned to reveal a metal rail. Beneath his feet and completely swallowed up by raw jungle is a railway which was part of thriving, developing country just 40 years previously. He is staggered by how quickly, and how totally all these infrastructures have been utterly lost, by how swiftly the country has unravelled and gone backwards.

Butcher’s journey

So Butcher rides pillion on the back of a motorbike from Kalemie heading directly west, roughly following the old abandoned overgrown railway line which once ran alongside the River Lukuga and linked Kalemie on Lake Tanganyika to join the River Lualaba between Kabalo and Kongolo. But after a 110k or so they take an abrupt right turn, heading north towards Mukumbo, then onto Kabambarre, and then to Kasongo, a now-ruined port on the River Congo.

This journey doesn’t look much on the (very good) map in the book, but it was in fact a mind-boggling 500 kilometres. (The book contains one master map of the entire route, done in a professional cartographic style, and then each chapter of the actual narrative starts with a charming hand-drawn map of that particular leg of the journey, complete with hand-drawn dotted lines, place names, and distances. Sweet. And handy.)

Anyway, Butcher covered this awesome 500k on the back of a motorbike! Along rutted, narrow, earth tracks bounded by tropical rainforest and continually littered with tree roots, bumps and ravines, streams, gulley and occasional rivers. No wonder he got a sore bum!

He takes a (very basic) ferry across the river and, on the other side, contracts more motorcyclists to drive him through 200km more narrow winding jungle paths, via the (ruined) town of Kibombo and on to another riverside port, Kindu. It’s on this leg that he comes across the wreckage of an armoured car which was shelled and destroyed during a firefight on a major road paralleling the river. Now the road has completely disappeared and all that’s left is a rusting metal hulk, almost completely overgrown by jungle.

In Kindu he contacts the local UN station (‘Hi, I’m a white jounralist’) which agrees to convey him in one of their river patrol boats 150k north, to the riverside settlement (not a town, just a few huts on the muddy bank) of Lowa. Here the friendly, civilised UN sailors set him ashore, with much shaking of heads over his folly, and Butcher, very scared, approaches some local Congolese lounging near huge wooden canoes. He is greatly relieved when one of them agrees to take him by canoe, or pirogue, the 200k by river further north to the town of Ubundu. This man, Malike Bade, quickly recruits three other oarsmen and off they set.

Ubundu, the ruined town which had once been the thriving Belgian port of Ponthierville, marks the start of the 150k or so of rapids and waterfalls collectively (still) named the Stanley Falls. Butcher has to transfer from the river to dry land and hitches a ride with some motorcyclists who work for a western charity (‘Hi, I’m a white journalist’), who have just delivered supplies to Ubundu and are now returning to their base at Kisangani, the big settlement which marks the end of the Stanley Falls.

It’s on this leg that he has the haunting experience of stumbling across a rail from the railway the Belgians built running north-south parallel to the river, now not only abandoned but completely buried by the tropical jungle (pages 248 to 249).

It was one of the defining moments of my journey through the Congo. I was travelling through a country with more past than future, a place where the hands of the clock spin not forwards, but backwards. (p.249)

Kisangani is the first town in nearly 1,000 kilometres which has proper roads, car, electric power, hotels worth the name, and running water, and bed with clean sheets, so he has an orgy of showers and sleeping and eating proper food, and then more showers and more eating and sleeping.

He discovers Kisangani may look like a big functioning town but most of the infrastructure here, as everywhere else in Congo, is in ruins – the ruined railway station and the ruined harbour, the riverside cranes which look so impressive from a distance but haven’t worked for decades, broken beyond repair:

a shell, prone to spasms of political anarchy and chaotically administered by inept, corrupt local politicians…It owed what little stability it had to the artificial props of a large UN force and foreign aid workers. (p.255)

And the local politicians do everything they can to undermine even these fragile elements of stability. A few months before he arrived in Congo there had been conflict in the profoundly unstable Bukavu region far to the east on the Rwandan border, with reports of Rwandan forces massacring Congolese. Instead of calming opinion, Kisangani’s officials inflamed it and blamed the deaths on the UN for failing to protect the Bukavese, with the result that angry mobs went on the rampage, looting then setting fire to UN buildings, ransacking aid organisations’ offices and warehouses, while the so-called police stood by or even joined in.

When you read of events like this you wonder, why are we bothering to give money to help people who are so absolutely determined to ruin themselves?

I heard heartbreaking stories about corrupt Congolese officials pocketing aid money intended for local public-health workers, and local soldiers not just looting aid equipment, but brazenly asking for cash to hand it back to its rightful owners. Many in the aid community spent their time counting the days until their contracts were up and they could go back to the real world. (p.285)

A Catholic missionary, Father Leon, tells him about the notorious massacre of monks and gang rape of nuns which took place here in 1964 (24 November 1964, to be precise), was widely reported, and helped crystallise world opinion that Congo was slipping back into Stone Age barbarism (pages 270 to 274).

After five days Butcher moves out of his hotel and into the last large mission being run in the city, by the Missionaries of the Sacred Heart of Jesus. After two weeks of sounding out local ship crews and NGOs, trying to find a boat which will take him down the river, after numerous disappointments, Butcher eventually secures a ride on a UN patrol boat (‘Hi, I’m a white journalist’) which will take him the 1,000 kilometres down the river to the port of Mbandaka.

On the way he becomes ill and weak with fever so that by the time he arrives at Mbandaka, he just can’t face another week or two or three hustling for his next ride down the river. Mbandaka is much smaller and more ruinous than Kisanagani was, so there isn’t even a hotel. God knows where he’d stay. Whereas the UN riverboat captain had told him that a UN helicopter service left the following morning for Kinshasa.

Reluctantly, but with great relief, Butcher travels the 600k from Mbandaka to the country’s capital, Kinshasa by helicopter. Here he is put up in the amazingly luxurious gated compound owned by a major international mining company, which won lucrative contracts by helping with the smooth transition of power after wily old Laurent Kabila was unexpectedly assassinated (16 January 2001) and succeeded by his completely inexperienced son, Joseph Kabila, aged just 30 at the time.

Only after days of showers, lots of sleep, taking a variety of medicines, eating proper food and drinking clean water in this rich, privileged western enclave, does Butcher feel human again, and in a position to decide what to do next. He consults with the senior guy minding the mining company compound who explains that there are no buses or taxis in Kinshasa. The only possible option is to pay to have one of the mining company’s cars and driver drive him along the only remaining road in the entire country (recently refurbished with foreign aid money) the 350k to the Atlantic port at Boma. So that is what he does.

In total the journey took him ‘six harrowing weeks’, 44 days, and was a dazzling, deeply depressing insight into the state of contemporary Africa.

Butcher’s bleak view of Africa

As the Telegraph‘s Africa correspondent, Butcher is amusingly blunt: Africa is fucked, that’s his basic position. African nations were screwed by the colonial powers from the Congress of Berlin to independence (the 1880s to the 1960s); then suffered epic civil wars and/or the extended rule of vicious kleptocrats; and have now mostly fallen into states of disrepair, degradation, police states, autocracies, characterised by epic corruption, horrible everyday violence, and the regular occurrence of coups or civil wars.

The one constant through all these episodes was the heavy undertow of human suffering. It gnawed away at every African epoch I read about, no matter whether it was caused by nineteenth-century colonial brutes or twenty-first century despots. Generations of Africans have suffered the triumph of disappointment over potential, creating the only continent on the planet where the normal rules of human development and advancement simply don’t apply.

It was this sense of stagnation that troubled me most as I worked my way through my reading list. Sub-Saharan Africa has forty-one separate countries of stunning variety – from parched desert to sweaty rainforest, from wide savannah to snow-tipped volcano – and yet as I did my background research, the history of these varied countries merged into a single, pro forma analysis…as crude as the underlying assumption: that African nations are doomed to victim status.

By the time I started working in Africa as a journalist in 2000, its patina of despair had thickened to impenetrability… (p.4)

Certainly, when it comes to Congo, Butcher regards it as a country which has comprehensively gone to ruin, a place which has not only ceased developing but is actively undeveloping, moving at speed back into pre-20th century, pre-industrial times.

The failure of the Congo is so complete that its silent majority – tens of millions of people with no connections to the gangster government or the corrupt state machinery – are trapped in a fight to stay where they are and not become worse off. Thoughts of development, advancement or improvement are irrelevant when the fabric of your country is slipping backwards around you. (p.289)

Butcher has a map from 1961 which shows all the railways, roads, airports, mines and towns built by the Belgians. Now almost all of them are abandoned and have faded back into the jungle. The Great War has left the huge territory divided between regional powers, armies and militias or just local bandits, any of whom might stop and shoot you for no reason.

Butcher is continually, vehemently rude about the white man, about colonialists, about outsiders who came into Congo, and is much consumed by the white supremacist, racist, arrogance which thought it knew what was best for the Congolese. Again and again he makes the same point.

And yet very often, in the very next paragraph, he goes on to describe at great length, and very upsettingly, just how completely Congo was devastated by its kleptocratic rulers, by Mobutu and his clique in faraway Kinshasa, who developed the cult of the leader of the nation while all the while stealing every last dollar from their people, building grotesquely luxurious palaces and villas, buying scores of properties around the world, while the infrastructure of entire provinces such as Katanga collapsed and disappeared back into the jungle.

And then he goes on to describe the work of the United Nations which strives hard to bring the warring sides in Congo’s endless conflicts to the negotiating table, which expends a small fortune trying to police the ceasefire at locations all across this country as large as a continent. For example, the story of Kisangani which saw horrific levels of violence in various civil conflicts, whose infrastructure and economy collapsed, and is nowadays only just about propped up by the UN and western NGOs, when the local population aren’t ransacking them.

The point being that, no matter how woke, anti-colonial and politically correct Butcher tries to be in his editorialising, the blindingly clear conclusion from his long, gripping narrative is that the Congolese simply cannot rule themselves. (p.319).

As soon as they tried to (June 1960) the place collapsed into a series of civil wars along with tribal massacres on a hair-raising scale, and now, as he writes (2004), 43 years after independence, Butcher’s journey amounts to an odyssey through a country which has not only failed to develop but is, to use his powerful neologism, undeveloping, with communities all across the country deprived of the clean water, electricity, communications, industry, travel infrastructure, even minimal education, even the most basic medical facilities, all things they took for granted under the Belgians.

Now it’s all gone, decayed, corroded, overgrown, crumbled to dust, and the country has reverted to its African origins: impenetrably difficult to travel across, riddled with disease (cholera from the water, malaria from the ubiquitous mosquitos) and infested with blood-thirsty, savage warrior bands, who arrive out of nowhere, kill all the men, rape all the women, burn the village to the ground, then disappear back into the jungle.

It’s a tropical hell. It’s Hieronymus Bosch in the jungle.

Summary

As I’ve probably stated at too great a length, I was unhappy with Butcher’s journalistic and rather superficial descriptions of many key aspects of Congo’s modern history. And I am gently mocking of the contradiction that, despite his insistent criticism of colonialism and white racism and imperial exploitation etc, it is only because he is a white westerner and (relatively) rich that he can pay the locals to ferry him wherever he wants, waltz into UN offices anywhere in the country and not only get their attention but persuade them to help him out (by boat, by bike, by helicopter). He’s a white man. Of course they’ll help.

But what I haven’t emphasised enough is that Butcher is also a cracking writer, with a great eye for detail. His descriptions of the jungle, the ruined settlements, primitive villages or scary cities (like Kisangani) are vivid and compelling. It’s a gripping, exciting read.

And also, Butcher has a knack for interviewing people or getting them to tell him about themselves and stories about their trade, village, town, or local history. Obviously these stories are tidied up and made fit for western consumption, he’s a journalist, that’s what he does. But he talks to a wide range of people who begin to build up a sense of opinions and experiences from right across this vast country.

(There are obvious omissions: he never speaks to anyone from any of the armed militias which, according to his interviewees, roam so much of the jungle, emerging to carry out unspeakable atrocities, but then journalists rarely do. They’re not the kind of people who make for compliant and articulate interviewees and so their voices are consistently absent from most western accounts.)

So although there are better books to go to in order to to understand the recent political and military history of the Congo, Butcher’s sweaty, fearful, sleepless, buttock-bruising account gives you a really vivid feel for what the country and its actual population – thousands of miles from the slick government spokesmen and official narratives of downtown Kinshasa – are really like. And a vivid and almost overwhelming sense of the dreadful fate, almost complete social collapse back into the Stone Age, which so much of it has undergone.

On the long slow journey down the river aboard a UN patrol boat (more accurately, a primitive tug or ‘pusher’) Butcher finds himself audience to an impassioned diatribe by the Malaysian captain, Mohammed Yusoff Sazali, who explains that Malaysia, like Congo, was colonised for centuries; Malaysia like Congo was subject to a cruel racist colonial masters (the British); Malaysia gained independence about the same time as Congo (1957 and 1960); Malaysia like Congo was dragged into Cold War conflicts. And yet, 50 years later, Malaysia is part of the world, has achieved great things in education and health, has a booming economy, they even host a Grand Prix every year. While Congo is collapsing year by year into pre-industrial, Stone Age poverty. Why? Why has Malaysia stormed ahead and Congo fallen so far behind? The skipper:

had distilled the quintessential problem of Africa that generations of academics, intellectuals and observers have danced around since the colonial powers withdrew. Why are Africans so bad at running Africa? (p.310)


Credit

Blood River: A Journey To Africa’s Broken Heart by Tim Butcher was first published by Chatto and Windus in 2007. References are to the 2008 Vintage paperback edition.

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